Post our fantastic evening with Fake That, Mrs F wanted to prolong our quality time together. I didn't fancy a spa day, I'm too fidgety to enjoy it, so I suggested winging it. Mrs F suggested afternoon tea, which is, in my humble opinion always a winner.
We took a drive through the Hampshire countryside and we came across a little treasure of a place, Jane Austen's house.
The house was owned by Jane's brother, who was the heir to a local land owner (I wasn't able to find out why he inherited the entire estate. The best guess was that he was just lucky).
The first room we arrived in was a cinema, which told a potted history of Jane and her family's life before and up to them arriving at the house in Steventon.
We made our way into the rooms of all the family members, we saw the actual table and chair Jane sat at while writing her novels.
In the library the society which ran the house had collected Janes by Jane in languages from across the globe, books about Jane, her family and the stories she had written. They had graphic novels, woollen versions and hardback copies for babies.
As we looked across the street we saw a little tea room, feeling a bit peckish we headed over for a spot of afternoon tea and a bit of a heart to heart.
It was a lovely end to a weekend that I will not forget in a very long time.
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