Oh I have had a lovely day. Started the morning in the gorgeous medieval market town that is most famous for the birth of the Bard of Avon. Whilst Bardolatry abounds, I rather like the historical links as the gateway to the British canals. The flight over was super easy. I knew I was exhausted from the crappy cold that I have had for the last week or so, but didn’t think I would pass out and sleep for about 17 hours. The lovely flatbed upstairs helps, and I was totally cocooned away in my favourite Qantas pod with no-one beside me. Felt incredibly decadent to drink champagne and then just doze away as though I wasn’t being jettisoned across the world at 1000km hour.
I arrived into glaring sunshine in Dubai, where the heat was radiating off the glass. Heathrow was also bathed in brilliant sunshine and after the terrible winter at home, I felt like a snake, wanting to simply lie down and sun myself. The good thing about the Qantas pod, is that your bags are usually first off. I whizzed through passport control quickly but then stood and stood and stood some more. Now I had slept for hours, but still had that jetlagged, sleep deprived feeling, where you go to say something and the words make no sense. The older man was standing beside me. I kept thinking gee you are familiar, and when he spoke, I thought, I know that voice. Anyway, Mr Geoffrey Rush and I waited ages for our bags. If you are going to lose your bags at Heathrow and have to wait for ages, then waiting with Mr Rush sure stops you complaining.
I left Heathrow in a beautiful brand new C class Mercedes. I sure should have taken more notice of how Fiona drives because I found myself on the busy Heathrow Northern Perimeter Road with this lovely black piece of German machinery that wouldn’t drive beyond 20 miles an hour. Of course there was no emergency stopping lane, so I drove down the middle of the road with the hazard lights on. OMG. I have no idea what I did to the car but it was 15 minutes of total stress. When I eventually turned it off and on and put my foot down, the lovely engine purred and the damn thing took off at 100 miles an hour.
Oh I love this car. I have felt like I have flown across England’s mountains green. After a lovely day with Jan in Lincoln, and her fantastic Indian fare, I am now holed up in Chesterfield. Tomorrow Mr Darcy’s Pemberley.
Sleeping under the stars 