Back to blighty

Alarms bleeping this morning in our room. Although I'd not slept well and nor had Lorraine. Up and dressed, and carried our cases quietly out of Las Casas de la Juderia, and into the street. Just gone seven in the morning, but Cordoba still sleepy and cool. We walked to the station, through the park and the occasional violet carpet of Jacaranda tree petals.  Our baggage scanned again in the station, and soon we were zooming off to Seville again. The trains leave exactly on time, and arrive exactly on time too. We arrived at the station at 8:40 and our flight was 9:50 so we didn't hang about. We zoomed outside, and fortunately found a taxi driver who agreed to drive us, despite Lorraine greeting him with 'adios!'

Into the airport, and I felt very relieved that we were all sorted and through security with time to spare. Lorraine and I bought some Iberian ham and cheese rolls, and then boarded our plane. We were at the back row crammed into the twitching tail, despite this squeeze and there being a bit of choppy sky, I remained sedate and calm. Flew directly over Jersey at one point, and I glimpsed Guernsey and the smaller islands.  After a bit of circling of Gatwick we landed, and after lots of airport walking, were eventually in the Qashqai and zooming homewards. Warm and sunny in blighty, and everything looking green.

As Lorraine parked, her brother Ken was on the pavement stroking his chin and shaking his head in a brotherly way at her parking. Maureen and Pat had enjoyed their holiday in Brighton, and had looked after Calliope and Brian admirably. We had waited for a clay court tennis match to finish before Ken drove them home.

New decking delivered, and a chat with Clem over the fence about the job he's going to do next week for us. Indoors on the gold sofa in the afternoon, and I dozed waking up just in time to start watching the friendly match between Nigeria and England at Wembley. This done, with England blowing hot and cold, and Nigeria a much more dangerous team in the second half, Lorraine and I walked down through the park and had the Shahi curry, which I had been visualising for a while. Delicious, and friendly in there as ever, although our friends there all starving due to Ramadan. Working as a waiter serving others food while you've not eaten since before dawn is a bit of a trial I imagine. Walked home with Lorraine feeling happy. We'd had such an excellent week, and there was still Sunday to go.

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