Thursday 2nd June 2022

Wer're all going on a spring holiday.

If we can round up four cats, at least one of which will get a good idea as to what's going on.

I mean, I should be excited, but until all four mogs are in their cages, then we're not going anywhere.

There was a plan to leave on Wednesday of we got all four of them, or get which ones we could Thursday and take the one or more we failed to nab Friday. But we kinda liked the idea of an extra day's holiday.

Jools was up and about erlym nabbing Cleo straight away, and she cried at the injustice of it all.

Next was Poppy who didn't come until eight, but she was put in with Cleo, and when that didn't work out so well, we realised we were one box short. So I would have to go into town at nine to get a new one.

And then there was traffic.

There are three ways into town from St Maggies, apart from the main Deal road, so when I found that closed, I turned round and went through Guston and round the bakc of the Duke of York's school, then down into Buckland to be at Jollies when it opened.

One large box at £25 was purchsed. I just had to get back home.

Jubilee Way was blocked, as was the Deal Road, and at the end of Maison Dieu road that was just about blocked, but sounding my horn to encourage a poor Belgian to clear the junction, I was able to turn up Castle Hill, then go via Reach Road back home.

Jools then packed Mulder and Scully into their boxes, aand took them to the cat hotel in Walmer. I had breakfast and packed the last our stuff. And we were done. Six bags, two with cameras and another with computer and cables, all in the car and we were done.

It was half ten.

Hit it.

We drove out along the Alkham Valley to Folkestone, then up the motorway, traffic not too bad, but dreadful heading for the coast. For the most part, solid lorries and trucks from Dover back to Maidstone, 35 miles. Brexit is really the gift that keeps on giving.

We cruised up the motorway, turned east to the M25, where traffic was mad. Clearly. It was stop start and took 3 hours to do a 90 minute trip, but we made it to the M3, turned south-west and then up through Windsor to the M4 and then west.

To Swindon.

Or that was until I had a bright idea, because it was the early afternoon, why not stop off at Hungerford? I mean, depsite living in the area for four years two decades ago, I never visited.

The signs said Hungerford had a hostoric church, a canal and good shopping street. And what we found once we parked was all of that, but also a fine ice cream parlour, whose wares we sampled standing on the tow path of the canal, looking on as children fed the ducks and swans.

We wandered about, and ended up at the John O Gaunt Inn, by the river, where they had La Chouffe on tap, which I drank in the beer garden, where else.?

The day was panning out perfectly.

And from there the sat nav guided us to Swindon, across rolling lush green countryside, picturebox perfect villages, until we ended up on an industrial estate on the outskirts of town.

All we needed was a bed for the night, and somewhere to eat.

We had an overnight bag, and little else, so we listened to the radio and waited for half six when we would eat.

Food in a Beefeater Grill is fairly basic, but good enough, as was the cocktail. I dined on double burger, which was pretty darn good.

We had coffee and retired to our room. The su was still shining when we went to bed.

On holiday.