Ah. The joys of travel at surely not hidden in the concept of transit.
It is but to be endured for the greater purpose of arrival. Still, at
least it’s an A380 which isn’t bad and because I am exhausted I
actually sleep….and as I sleep, I don’t move, so am rewarded with
some exceptionally fine cankles on arrival.
Poor Chris has it worse. What started as tickle in his throat has
developed into a full blown man flu. By time time we land he’s very
ill indeed. Poor Chris. It’s pretty much on his head in terms of what
happens from here and how, so to be unwell at this point is a blow.
We land, collect a car (the wrong one by accident and it’s very
nice…and we get to keep it) and then drive down to Cornwall to
collect the motorhome. Not sure what awaits us on this first return
trip, but all is fine and we are actually here, safe and sound.
And there are bunnies! Lots of babies spring bunnies just waiting to
say hi. I’m sure they knew we were coming. Chris says he saw 13 on
one trip out and I count 5 and 4 and 6 and then lose count. Love the
We fuss with unpacking and finally settle to a deep, well deserved