Saturday 2nd December 2017

We woke up at seven on Saturday, wishing we both had had more than the seven hours sleep. Traveling on Friday was never going to be easy, but the second half of the journey, from the M25 down to the Blackwall Tunnel, through Docklands, past the old Olympic Park, under the Thames and out the other side, and then having to go via Ramsgate as the A20 was blocked at Folkestone and the A2 blocked before Canterbury. That we got home by midnight is amazing to be honest.

Being a Saturday, there was shopping to be done, not much we thought. A list is written as we drink coffee. And still it came to over ninety quid! Still, it was done, and we could go home, unpack and Jools decided that it was a bacon kinda morning. And who am I to argue?

Bacon cooking as the sun broke through the clouds over the back garden. Bacon cooked, brew made, and we could sit and enjoy breakfast.

By the time we had eaten, washed and cleared up it was ten and time for Huey on the radio. Time then to relax, Jools began reading The Book of Dust and I had shots to process and blog to write. And so the morning passes: I warm some soup up for lunch, served with some fresh buttered bread.

THe afternoon was spent, at least by me, in the Rack of Ale, which, sadly, was to close that day. Long story, but Trish had enough of fighting and called it a day as someone wanted to take over the lease of her shop, for more money, and the landlord did not help. So, most of her regular and long-time customers came in during the day to celebrate and say goodbye, and drink the stock. I won't lie, it won't be the same, somewhere to go, have a chat, meet new and old friends and drink great beer/cider.

There are other bars and micropubs, but only one Rack.

Jools drops me off as she goes off to get a hair cut, and I walk over to the Rack, go in and chat to Trish while I sup my first ale.

It was quiet, but would be rammed later, obviously. It is a day for laughter and tears. More people come in, some talk others just drink. I sit and read, sometimes talking to other customers.

Jools comes to collect me at quarter past four, by which time I had supped two pints of ale and three halves of cider. That was enough.

As we left, Trish was out back crying; there would be more tears by the end of the night, but for us it was enough. I hug here and we leave for the last time.

I wasn't worried about the footy results, as City had already played, and lost, on Friday night. So back home I listen to the last 15 minutes of the main batch of games, then settle down on the sofa to listen to the Utd v Arse game, which ends in a 3-1 to Utd, and was a cracker of a game. I even managed to stay mostly awake, which was nice.

More party food for dinner, and a wine.

But some nine in the evening, and with City having lost, I could not bring myself to watch all of the C5 highlights, so we go to bed early. Shattered.