Heading Back Home

Antonia flew back from her graduation ceremony to Alicante and we drove back to the UK, taking a week to do it. The first night we stayed high in the Pyrenees in a tiny village where the air was crystal clear and vultures cruised on thermals, searching for the dead. Don’t worry birdies, you’ll find them – but will you beat the wolves? Driving up through Andorra we swapped 37c for 37f and played in snow on the top. then a night in Toulouse and a few days in a tent on a campsite north of Limoges. The advantage being that the site – Le Bouiex – had a private carp lake. We caught around 150 carp over 4 days – fantastic sport in a beautiful location.

We picked up Georgie’s stuff from her apartment in Paris on the way home and now we’re here. I buggered my back up somehow. It hurts and went into spasm so I had difficulty walking in Le Bouiex. Surely fate wouldn’t be so unkind after my anticipation over the last year? Surely the God I don’t believe in wouldn’t reveal his wicked sense of humour and stop me getting to first base just to prove the stupidity of my atheism. ‘Cop that Smith and genuflect your way back to mobility!’ Naa – that kind of August fool prank would come from the other side – ‘He’s already in me’.

I haven’t walked in a fortnight since Spain. I’m relaxed about that. Save my back for Thursday. The debate in the household at the moment is whether I should take a tent or the tarp that I really want to take. The consensus view favours tent; purely on the basis of insects and animals being able to waltz into the tarp whilst I’m asleep.

Tarp or Tent? Fiiiiight!!!

 Tarp Wins.