Thurs, 5/10/06
Went to the formal marital home to say goodbye to the girls after school. Mercedes was the proud owner of a new haircut brought about not by fashion trends but by a thick patch of un-combable tangles which had to be removed. The hair looks great and although there appeared to be some uncertainty in her eyes she appeared to have taken to the new look. Tara was just...Tara. She always sports that look that says, "Whatever....I'll just enjoy myself come what may". They are good about the trip and are on a promise to make me proud while I am away.I have no worries about that and soon started to make my way to my first port of call.
Simon is an ex-relative thanks to divorce and has agreed to let me take advantage of his proximity to Gatwick Airport by offering to let me stay the night before the flight, give me a lift to the airport and allow me somewhere to park the car for a couple of months. Uneventful car journey east. Took photo of Stonehenge on the phone whilst driving past on the A303 and tried to send it to Laura in Ohio but technology failed me alas. Journey took about 4 ½ hours with the only real hold-ups happening on the M25. Getting to Simon's could have been a nightmare but for the mobile phone and the hands-free.... Surely created by God him/herself....now if only this divine intervention had also taken into account a great swathe of Sussex that seems to have no coverage. I must have sounded like a 'Mayday' call on a crackly short wave radio, but despite this, good luck and guess-work got me to my destination. I was met by Simon and German Shepherd 'Jazz' and taken to the dining room where Petra was entertaining four of the girls from work. Simon led me to a very large glass of red and all was well. After about an hour the girls left and Simon gave me a tour of his very impressive house. The 'up these stairs, through these rooms and down these stairs' gave a very 'East wing/West wing' feel to the house. Is this what has become of the Devon lad who just a few short years ago was a tour rep escorting hordes of lager-frenzied Brits around the watering holes of the Med? The lad done good. A few more large reds and entertaining chat led inevitably to my retiring some time after midnight.
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