That's a landing of the architectural variety, not the airline sort (I've been reading Bill Bryson's At Home for the last few hours, full of easy to digest domestic history of UK and US interiors - but we haven't moved upstairs yet, so I don't know if he explains why a landing is called a landing). This, many hours ago, was Wimbledon in the early morning light. As I explained yesterday, it was a wet day. So the towels and bathmat that were washed could hardly be hung outside, and so were draped - on polythene sheeting - over the stairs banisters. I'm not even sure whether or not my parents possess a drier - surely? - but doubtless this method keeps the fabrics usable for longer. Economical, practical - it characterises completely their way of life, and it's a shock, after a week in their environment, to return to 7 hours (!) in Chicago airport, which epitomises a whole lot of other ways of being.
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