Homeward Bound.

The long drawn out journey from a comfy bed in Amiens to another on the eleventh floor in Lovell Park Grange is done. A smashing night's sleep. Sans alcool...

Coming back to the flat I washed everything and put fresh linen on the bed. Switched on the night time storage heater to have a warm bath come Saturday morning - those little things I don't see when my mind is somehow hampered by conflicting emotions, like a knotted ball of twine, I can never lay flat and untangled. 

An hour to wake up, pack up an get into the post 7am bath - 11 until 7 nighttime cheap electricity... Now I've added my tent equipment to the 40litre bag I purchased last year at Intersport Beauvais, when all my own baggage disappeared into the ether of airside, and affixed the sleeping Thermarest mat to the bottom of the sack with the webbing there; it's going to be heavy!

Now breakfast: porridge. Since yesterday I've become the healthier me once more. In the entirety of this trip to France, which was five days walking two days heavy drinking and two days recovering, I'd not eaten a piece of fruit or made my own food. For some reason I was blocking my own resourcefulness. I think I was still hoping I'd drop dead so eating healthy didn't matter?

At the bus stop on Cross Stamford Street waiting on the X99 to Deighton Bar. Flat left as I found it yesterday: I must make an effort to give it a clean, but I find that so hard to care about. True I always wash up and put toilet cleaner down the bog before I depart, but rarely do I vaccum or dust, and the windows are appalling but that's due to the work being carried on rendering the blocks at Lovell Park Hill.

Now as I drop off the sack I've come to our to the allotment, after saying hello to mum's Airbnb guest and dog, to return to the familiar routine in a better frame of mind?