The day has stayed more or less dry so far, despite promises of heavy showers. A few spots fell whilst we were out with H.
It was a bit of an up and downer of a night, with the odd dream, causing me to fight my way to surface reality. But the content has slipped my memory. For now.
I was ready to take H out relatively early, but the walk spoiler decided to accompany us so that meant we departed a little later. Since we will soon no longer have easy access to Pangbourne, that was today’s destination.
The meadow grasses keep being re shaved which is helpful. But the heavy rain of the last two days has caused the swamps to return and has confined the boat people we met the other day. There are red warnings along parts of the Thames which means prohibitions come into existence. No idea what they are. I can’t imagine anything worse than sitting on a boat for days at a time. Someone I was talking to a couple of summers ago described it as being in a heated cigar tin. No heat today though.
Heidi made for the log – the one and only log or seat she graces with her presence. I think she’s having a laugh.
We cut short our walk after a couple of spots of rain. T was concerned he might get wet. Should have stuck by my early resolution and left him behind.
We ate a snack lunch at the Waterfront which was underwhelming. We haven’t been there for a few months and it is usually reliably good but today disappointed. Well my lump of mashed potato didn’t taste quite right. They are short staffed in the kitchen and have heavy duty road works going on outside.
But, on the plus side, they have a ferry in operation between the boatyard and Benson Lock. We used to walk to Benson Lock from Castle Meadows. You still can. But you cannot cross the lock which is a rather large pain. Apparently it is falling apart and dangerous. So the ferry solves this problem at a small cost.
Upon our return home, the predictable happened and I have not completed the admin chores. But, hey I’m hoping the Carers’ assessment ( tomorrow) will help with some of those.
Yes, the predictable, promised happened. The rain bucketed down trapping some strange old fellow in our shed. It came out of nowhere and without warning and was very heavy lasted a long while. The old bloke decided he was caught out in the wrong place. I had been looking for him for a while!
And the grass needs cutting again. We watched a bit of Eurovision until I nodded off. T was enjoying it. A few years ago and the mention of the word Eurovision sent us scurrying. Scurrying anywhere. But there is a certain deadly attraction and I can see why the gay sector of our society love it.
There was a lot of pink around last night. Starting with a Danish young person who looked about 12 but was 25. Israel’s entry looked about 25 and was about 18 and sang a shouty song. I don’t like shouty numbers.
And despite it being clear that Ukraine would win last year, before a word had been sung – I think Stephania was a great number. Liverpool are doing a great job!
I nodded on again later and completed the blue badge form. I’ve just got to upload screenshots of paperwork. 4 lots of different paperwork – 2 for proof of identity and 2 for medical diagnosis. I suppose if people could be trusted to be honest it would not be necessary.
A cool breeze is wafting across my knees and toes.
I lie here trying to come to terms with the fact that I shall probably never travel overland across Europe again. This is very distressing. I think of the land mark bits of familiar road – Auvergne and volcanoes, dropping down into Chambery, Frejus and it’s tunnel and the snows above. Oulx and David. I wonder if he survived Covid – a haemophiliac with lung cancer in Northern Italy? Odds against, I would say.
The Italian plain, must not forget Asti and it’s hospital or the many happy days at Baia Flaminia at Pesaro. Arriving at Patra and the Olympian Highway. Rafina. The spirit and congestion of Piraeus. And Souda.
Then the best bit – leaving the National road and joining the road to Voukolies. There is a road junction there that means relax. We have arrived.
Last year we were just above Voukolies for sunrise.
I suppose I should be thankful for our past trips and get on with living in the present.
Or back to the very distant student past – sleeping in haylofts in Austria or dripping German woodland. In tractor tracks in Yugoslavia and grappling in the red dust with Paul Wilkinson. He’s a professor now somewhere out in Canada. Stuck in Innsbruck with failing brakes which were eventually fixed in Thessaloniki. Then there was Turkey and Israel. Another couple of stories where bright young things will have become decrepit and stiff and grey. The boat beside Ioannina lake where some guitar playing guy serenaded us with September.
And the same wind blowing across my knees ruffling up my sleeping bag.
Thought for the Day
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