Bumping

Back to Blighty today. Up early and said a fond farewell to Jane. After coffee, Richard and I stopped nearby and stood in the driving rain again, before clambering back into Richard's van with wet dogs, and driving off to the airport. Sad to say goodbye, but we both felt that we had accomplished a good deal.

Astounded in Guernsey Airport by the staff in the little cafe. Nobody there but it took twenty minutes to be served. All too soon hurtling into thick clouds and the pilot warning about bumpiness. Nervously quaffed a can of beer at the earliest opportunity, reflecting on what is now 50 years of turbulence hating. The trouble with these little prop planes is they do not climb above the clouds.

Home and into some French work. Thunder this afternoon, but the house still standing and Calliope and fish all smiling. Spoke to Mum, and worked on poems all evening, apart from when Lorraine came by to collect Beth's belongings. Spoke to Mindy who is coming this weekend, which will be nice.

And so to bed.

Below more rain around Bordeaux harbour, more damp poets. View from my window.