Sunday 28th December 2014

Saturday

And so, once in the festive period, we must load up the car and drive to Suffolk to visit Mother. And due to the way the days fell over the holidays this year, that day was Saturday.

Driving to Suffolk and back, about four hours each way is just about do-able in a day, whilst getting some visiting in whilst we are in Lowestoft. But, at this time of year, it means leaving home some hours before dawn, and returning home well after dark, and most of the travelling being in the dark, and that is never fin, but add in torrential rain to the mix, and it all adds up to a grim day all round. And that is without taking Mother into the equation!

The alarm went off at five, and after plenty of faffing around, we left home at six, and went to find an open petrol station. Tesco was closed, but the Shell one in the centre of town was open, I filled up, bought some chocolate, and pointed the car north. At least the road was quiet, and we drove up the M20 through Folkestone, Ashford, Maidstone and upto Dartford. Where, thankfully, theey are sweeping away the toll boothes, to be replaced with number plate recognition, which means you have to set up an account, but it should do away with most of the queues. At seven in the morning there was little traffic, and we drive through and into Essex.

As I have stated on many occasions, Essex seems to be the home of the boy racer and the mad driver. I take my time, and despite still being dark, the traffic is light so the drive was not too bad. Dawn came as we drove over the border into Suffolk, round Ipswich, over the Orwell and then into the dark heart of the county. It is some 46 miles from Ipswich to Lowestoft, so should take less than an hour, but there are few overtaking places, and once stuck behind a lorry of tractor, you had better get used to it, cos you aint going nowhere fast.

But we make steady time, and are soon rolling into Kirkley, then onto Lowestoft, over the river. Now, Mum's house is filthy, so we do not drink or eat there, so we head to a Premier Inn for breakfast, like we always do when in town. Being Christmas, it is much busier, but we have fruit, toast and a bun. More than enough to set us up for the day. Now for the main reason for us being here: to Mum's.

I won't bore you here with the whys of why we don't really get on: it goes back years, but I am her only son, and she is my only living blood relative. We make small talk, she makes a show of her presents. I show her the calendar I have made for her, and made a joke of 'if you don't want it'. She said she really didn't need it, but said she would look at the photos, but we could tell she wasn't really interested. Mum used to coo over these, but has fell out with a mutual friend, Pat, who used to rave about my shots, so now MUm can't show off, she isn't interested. Well, as long as I know.

And as we talk, Mum drops off several times. Despite her denials, I see her jaw drop and her false teeth partly come out. Just peachy. Anyway, after an hour and 50 minutes, we take our leave.

We drive along much familiar roads to see my Godfather and his wife: they are nice people, but now in their 80s, and getting ever more infirm. I do worry about Heather, she repeats herself so much a times, but we ignore that. After half an hour, we take our leave from them too, and begin the long drive home. However, we would be goin via our friends place in south Suffolk, Rob and Sarah. It is about a 45 minute drive down through Bungay and Diss, the sun is low in the sky, and driving is difficult with the sun so low. But we arrive safe, where there is the promise of cake. And tea.

We stay a good couple of hours, outside the sun sets and dusk begins to fall. We really have to make tracks. Be say goodbye, not before more tea and a mince pie is served. I point the car south and off we go towards Ipswich. The traffic is light, and listening to the radio, there are queues, but none on the part of the M25 we will be travelling, which is some kind of once in a lifetime event. Indeed, once we get onto the motorway, traffic is light, there are no queues on the bridge, and we all drive in four lanes off the bridge and into Kent. It is the first time I have driven over the bridge at 50mph all the way!

It is dark now of course, but we are in no hurry, so we cruise along at 60mph, retracing our route from this morning. We see the castle from the Capel turn off, and then as we descend from Shakespeare Cliffe on the A20, the lights of Calais twinkle from across the Channel.

We are home, met by our trio of cats. Mum has given us a dozen bottles of old spirits and wines, which will sort out, but now have several litres of spirits. Partay?