Thursday 27th March 2025

I awoke at half six still on the mattress on the floor between the two sofas.

Outside it was a typical Manchester day with glorious sunshine, which will make the journey back down south enjoyable.

I listen to a podcast, and as I have access to the kitchen, make a brew, and soon all was well with the world.

I folded up the bedding and then sat, waiting for Jen and Sylv to stir.

Jen is straightforward, plans and prepares well, Sylv is like herding kittens: easily distracted and prone to wandering off, several times a minute.

I set the target of leaving soon after nine, and once we had more brews, breakfast of hot cross buns, then packed, took out the trash, loaded the car, so, that wheels strarted to roll at half nine with the car full of us and Sylv's bags and possessions.

A quick fun through Kearsley, left at the roundabout and onto the motorway, through one junction where the other lanes heading towards Manchester were jammed, we cruised east at seventy, and soon began to climb towards Saddleworth Moor and the border with Yorkshire.

It was a glorious day, and while we were heading east over the Pennines, the sun was to our right, but once we turned south, and for most of the rest of the journey, we were heading straight into its light, and it hurts my eyes, Precious.

In order to avoid the jam on the A1, I turned down the M1, through Barnsley and Sheffield, before turning east on the M18, which to Jen's alarm was signposted to "The North".

Don't panic, I said.

Nine miles later we turned south onto the A1, having cut out the jam and back on track, I reckon having saved half an hour and quite a few miles with this new route.

Into Nottingham Shire, past Newark, into Lincolnshire, the land flattened out and thoughts turned to lunch.

My favourite place is the OK Diner, there are two on the A1, and the southbound one is near Peterborough just about halfway home.

I programmed that it, and had 40 miles before the lunch stop.

A shiny diner, full of American memorabilia, in these changed times, that might have to be rethought, but for now, with Little Richard over the cheap sound system we were shown to our seats and so we could look over the unhealthy menu.

I had a burger (of course) with added pulled pork, while Jen and Sylv had very small breakfast of bacon, eggs and fried potato.

And then, back in the car to go further south.

Modern road etiquette seems to be that on a four lane road, hardly anyone uses lane 1, middle lane wankers and trucks use lanes two and three, and everyone else uses lane four. If people used the roads like they should, move back to the inside lane except when overtaking, there'd be much room.

But no. This is my lane and I'm not moving from it, even if I drive only at fifty.

Twats.

So, in this way we head south, turning off back towards Cambridge on the A14, then south on the M11.

The aim was to be over the Dartford Crossing by three, when rush hour would make it even more busy. Thankfully, the M25 was pretty freely moving, and we reached the Crossing just after two, and crossed into Kent.

After surviving the madness that is the junction onto the A2, we cruised down through Kent, on the motorway past Faversham, then on past Canterbury to home.

I dropped them off at just gone three, and after taking their bags in, back via Pineham, as the school run had left most of Whitfield jammed with Chelsea Tractors.

Home at half three, with the feline welcoming committee telling me they had not been fed in 36 hours. I ignored them for a while, then placated them with kitty kibbles until dinner time at five.

Jools was having cocktails after work, and I was to collect her at seven from The Bell in Hythe, so into the glory of a stunning sunset, I drove to Dover then on to Folkestone to Hythe, to find the local cycling group filling the car park with expensive bike and lycra, before embarking on their weekly evening ride. Before returning to the pub after 90 minutes for a few swifters.

Jools wasn't there, but she called to say she was on her way, so I had a pint of stout and some crisps and chatted to the locals.

She arrived, tipsy fart, but happy, and with a takeaway. So after drinking up, we walk to the car and drive back home, traffic almost reduced to nothing.

Back home.