Days after Herself’s funeral, I knew Spurs Fan was exhausted from driving up and down, back and forth, round and round; from the child management; from his own grief; from attempting to read my mind, as I kept forgetting to tell him about jobs I’d signed him up for…
Being a kind soul, I drove the first part of the way. Oddly, this did nothing to ease his stress. He could just about cope with the ‘what is the speed limit?’ speed on an empty road, but the weaving between empty lanes when distracted by a sculpture was worrying. It was a great relief to him when I decided to swap. Especially when I settled into the passenger seat and promptly fell fast asleep, being woken up in time to get on the boat.
The long journey from North Wales to Cornwall was dotted with me admiring the scenery, falling back to sleep and then snorting awake. Attractive or what? He truly is a lucky guy.
I’m always surprised by the English countryside: it’s so often pretty and postcard like. I wouldn’t be surprised to see Miss Marple cycling past on her way to do some crime solving crochet. We drove through a place called Mary Tavy, passed a sign for Peter Tavy and wondered if the next place would be called ‘and all the wee Tavys’. Surely that’s what Tavistock means? The romantic in me was so disappointed that everywhere was named after the River Tavy and not after a family. I’m sure we also passed a sign for a place called Chipshop, but my family believe I’m delusional with grief.
We passed through many beautiful areas, and much to our delight, are staying in one. Many hours after leaving home, we arrived here.