Day Ninety One

Hurrah!  It’s the last day of domestics all that’s left to do is pack everything into storage tubs and organise the take home bags.  I now have a full cross seasonal wardrobe here and have persuaded Chris to leave most of his wardrobe as well.  Makes future trips so much easier. The only things I need to lug back and forth are the items I want to wear this summer.  Having a summer getaway overseas is a great excuse for two summer wardrobes.  It’s only fair. I have two summers, after all.

Even with this, there’s still a surprising amount we’ve accumulated over the past three months.  And there’s the last minute  actual cleaning as opposed to packing.  And there are two control freaks in charge, each with opposing views on how things should be done. 

 It’s fair to say we have at least one day like this each trip, and today’s the day.  I’m left to ponder, not for the first time, the irony of the fact that staff are much easier to manage than husbands. In the workforce you learn early to encourage people to play to their strengths.  This would be a good lesson in marriage too. When I need advice on how to clean or pack, I’ll ask for it, thanks.  

Finally, it’s done. All that’s left is to drop everything into the bags when we pick them up tomorrow, when we put the motorhome to bed. And go for a walk in the woods, to clear my head.

It’s time for a treat, so it’s off to Truro so my favourite shops, The White Company and Waterstones so they can relieve me of some money. Neither of them disappoints.  With their perfect palette of neutral tones, I absolutely adore the range of clothes and homewares at The White Company.  If there was any shop I’d wish for at home, it would be this one.  My sales boy helpfully tells me they now ship to Australia.  Yippee! 

Waterstones is a wonderful bookshop, one I’ve lost many happy hours in.  At the end of each trip we have a tradition of buying the travel books for our next journey.  I think there will be a few countries on the list next year, but to get the ball rolling, Croatia comes home as does a book on the southwest of France, the only part of France we’ve not yet explored in detail. I’d love to add Spain and Greece to the list, but there’s a limit on what can be done in three months. And we’re keen for less driving next year: there’ll be lots of long distance ferries I think.

There’s time for coffee too, a new discovery this trip, a great little coffee shop in the Truro Museum that serves excellent coffe and homemade baking. Delicious. And a quick peek at the fabric Shop – there’s a mannequin in the window dressed like my friend Rachel!

Later, we head back into Truro for a classic pub dinner on our last night.  Fish and chips for Chris and a slow cooked pork belly bap for me.  Yum!  When in Rome etc.  It’s a local haunt as evidenced by the fabulous accents that surround us, and my shop boy dropping in for a pint with his mates.

There’s time for a last shot of the river at full tide, and the cathedral under the night lights.

I can’t believe we’re off tomorrow. Where did the last three months go?  Can I do it all again?  Would they come looking for me if I forgot to come home? These are excellent, if unanswered questions as I ponder into the night.

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