Almost across the Channel

It’s been a busy time, especially as we are currently up to our elbows in ski socks and knee braces. Our ferry leaves at 8.30 tomorrow morning and we’ve decided on a 3.30 am start. The good news is we have booked a hotel in Dijon tomorrow night so we have split the French bit of the journey. I’m sure it will all be fine. This time around we been very particular about what we take with us. Normally, even with the back seat down, we’re overflowing. However, because Brexit restricts what foodstuff you can carry – and other self imposed restrictions – it looks like the boot might have some room in it, and the car will be lighter. Hurrah! We have got all the paperwork ready – there is no need to complete a covid test, but there is still a declaration form to fill in and other stuff. I think we have the Ts crossed etc.

it’s rubbish, isn’t it?

The army pal of mine with Parkinson’s came and spent a few hours with us on Friday. He is quite an extraordinary man. If you leave aside his battle against the disease, his life is one great adventure, with so many stories of trips (and jobs) into jungles an deserts. I think I’m well travelled, but I clearly am not. His next journey, from Sierra Leone to Cape Town, is going to be his toughest – he struggles to tie his own shoe laces, so you can imagine what difficulties lie ahead. There’s a film crew going out three or four times to capture his travels and help him shine a light on Parkinson’s in Africa. He wants me to join him for the tricky bit, around the Congo, and travel with him to get a sense of the journey. I’m up for that, but it does depend on timings. C and I do have immovable things in the diary.

My next decision is how to tell his story. Should it be biographical, or autobiographical? I am going to start to write it as a snap-shot biography, focusing on his journey through Africa, planting historical anecdotes where they make sense. That means I can start to write it from this weekend … when I first caught up with my pal post his diagnosis (which is 9 years old). It may be that a first person account reads better, and I am happy to do that. I just need to work out which suits both the narrative and our time. I’ll keep you posted.

For the record, I fitted a new car battery and that seems fine. And then I backed the poor old Focus into a tree. The one in our front garden, that’s been there forever (in my defence I was thinking about something else). That’s another dent in our very dented car. Thankfully she’s not pristine …

Oh, and the wedding. Bless them. We were always going to travel down to Devon on the day but the 80 guests who were staying at the hotel on the Friday night had to be relocated because there was no power. Then there was no power in the village on Saturday … so the church was lit only with candles (and chilly). Post service the hotel still had no power, so we had a glass of fizz in the church until, by the luck of social media, a local offered a very lovely house for the wedding party. It had electricity … and then it didn’t. The hotel served some drinks and then the caterers did their best to relocate, but it was slow. C and I, still covid-concerned in a smallish room with a lot of people, did our best to get around and then pulled away. It was a sad spectacle and did feel for them. Although, to be fair, the church service was lovely with some fab music, so there were some positives.

colder than it looks

And more storms are coming? What with Johnson unlikely to resign over partygate, even if he is given a police fine, I feel now is a good time to push off to the Alps for three weeks skiing.

How lucky are we?

Stay safe.

Some light …