I write to you from Bridge Farm Britford, back in
Getting here was a bit problematic, though. We left the Apollo Hotel at about quarter to ten and got to the airport at about 10 past ten. So far so good. We left the hire car (good car, thank you!) in the car park, as instructed, dropped the keys into the key box and went to check in. So far, ok, though we noticed that some of the early planes had been delayed or cancelled. The man at check in said they were expecting our flight to leave on time - - but!
We went through to the departure lounge. And remembered that
I’m not absolutely sure what the problem was. They kept talking about the severely adverse weather conditions. Agreed, it was a bit foggy, but visibility didn’t seem that bad to me. However, no doubt they know what they’re doing, and I emphatically don’t want to be flying if it is not safe!
Mercifully, our flight left. And on time. It was a perfectly untroubled flight and we landed nice and smoothly, bang on time.
As we were leaving last Monday, going into the departure lounge, The Builder said: Did I lock the car? Well, I hadn’t noticed, but assumed he had. He normally does it automatically. We pondered this question from time to time while we were away, but didn’t fret too much. No point fretting about something you can do nothing about. We approached the car on our return. “Try the door handle” said The Builder. No need. The little red flashed “locked door” light wasn’t on. Oops. We’d left all the Wiltshire/Hampshire Christmas presents in the boot while we were away. Gingerly, I opened the boot. Hooray! All the presents were still there!!! Mind you, if I were planning to raid a car boot, it wouldn’t be in a carefully monitored airport carport!
Reunited with the Vixen (and with Jenny, who hadn’t enjoyed being left in the (unlocked!!!!) freezing boot all week; her battery was flashing red, if the car’s light hadn’t been), we took off down to
Norma does do a lovely breakfast. It helps that it’s cooked as you ask for it. But she does a magnificent fried egg, to the point that even when we go to equivalent B&Bs, I still come away saying: that was a lovely breakfast, but the egg wasn’t a patch on Norma’s. She’s close to retirement age. But I’m sorry; she can’t retire ever, ever, ever!
Really enjoyed our time in