Park attack
Up fairly early this morning to pack and have a sturdy breakfast to prepare us for the road. Jumped into the car, and headed home. Our route took us along the Wye valley again and past Chepstow. A strong sense of déjà vu as we drove between the long stone wall of the racecourse, and the trees opposite -- although I have never been there. Nor had I ever crossed the Severn bridge before. First you cross the Wye, then the bridge becomes a viaduct going over a nub of land called Beachley then over the Severn. It takes a few minutes of booting across it in the car before you reach England on the other side. I felt a bit exposed and weird on it, even Lorraine determinedly zoomed ahead. The journey back, was pleasant and uneventful, the best kind of motorway driving for most of it. I was sad to be going home though, as getting away had been a tremendous mental boon, and broke patterns that badly needed breaking. Home and the cats were reproachful, but all in one piece. Spoke to...