Loaded up with full-sized rucksacks, we stomped down to the Station on Tuesday morning. Apart from a slight balancing problem on the tube (which ended without disaster) the trip was without incident.
The trek across London was efficient enough that we arrived at Paddington just as the 1.30pm train pulled out of Platform1. To be honest, although this leaves us with a 30-min wait for the next train, it's just less stress and huffing around whilst we try and find appropriate seats.
And so, just after 3.30pm saw us landing in the flat and doing the "hello, we're home" ritual. All was well.
Absolutely no debate whatsoever about the next step: Barleymow. Every. Time.
Because of all that's going on with work, and the sheer embuggerance of it I'd been a bit anxious about travelling to Bristol.
My lovely staff reassured me they'd be fine.
The second we sat in our usual seat in the pub and had the first swig, a load felt like it slipped off. The BM is very much like home and the second we settle in, it feels like no time has passed since the last time. It's just like Narnia...but less evil and with less religion.
It's not that the work job's done - it more that we're halfway to a proper holiday (St Ives) where I turn my comms off (with the exception of SMS for emergencies).
Books have been ordered, new games have been gifted, B&W film and a new rucksack are being purchased on Monday...and then it'll feel like a stroll to the end of the week.
Meanwhile we've spent pleasant evenings in Martha, Kings Head and Moor and we haven't yet settled on today's venue. Choices, choices...
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