Innocents Abroad

Nellie and Edna were related to us by marriage. We met these delightful British sisters when they were in their eighties.  They had always lived together and travelled all over the world as companions.

Edna was sturdy, dependable, kind and thoughtful.

She drove their little car and Nellie, who did not drive, and tended to be a little snippy, read the maps and gave directions, sometimes accompanied by acidic comments, whereupon Edna would gently respond "Now Nellie, that is not necessary."

Off they would toodle on a road trip, having first PUSHED the car to an appropriate spot (they felt the car should never be allowed to idle) where they then loaded a picnic basket and supplies.  Edna was a very cautious driver and often extended her hand out the window with a somewhat regal wave, encouraging impatient drivers to pass them.  It was a hilarious experience to be a passenger on one of their journeys.

These two indomitable old girls travelled together to many countries. In China Nellie had to be lifted onto the Great Wall, but she was determined she was going to have that wondrous experience.  We often told them they would have made a great comedy series "Nellie and Edna go to Russia" etc.

We stayed with them on one of our many trips to Britain. They were so kind and thoughtful.  One day we as we strolled along the seafront chatting, they asked us various questions about our lives.  Did Ken and I give each other gifts? No, I said, but I often made Ken a rice pudding on his birthday as that was his favorite dessert. Shortly after that, Edna said she would just slip home and put the roast in the oven. When we returned to their little cottage (appropriately named 'The Haven') we discovered Edna had made Ken a rice pudding!

Another time when they stayed with us in Victoria (having just completed a tour of the Rockies) I tapped on their bedroom door and then opened it.  What greeted me was a miniature clothesline strung between two chairs on which hung two pairs of large bloomers.  I immediately offered to hang them out in the sunshine.  "Oh no!" they chorused, "Kenneth might see them!"  I laughed and hung them in the sun anyway.  At the end of the day, Ken, always full of fun, brought the offending bloomers inside and with a broad smile handed one pair to Nellie and the other to Edna.  "Oh, Kenneth!" they tittered, and ran off to the sanctity of their bedroom.

Another day when Ken was walking around our garden with them, admiring the flowers, the conversation somehow strayed into dangerous territory during a discussion about pollination.  Little Nellie admitted that she still did not know what 'went on' in the bedroom...In this present day and age, when you are actually in the BED in a movie and language is so foul, it is certainly a delightful memory to have known two such sweet, innocent ladies.

Nellie and Edna always seemed suspended in time.  I don't think they coloured their hair, yet they never seemed to look their age, unsullied by everyday pressures, their childlike innocence shone through their lives. And now they have both taken their last and greatest journey.