Mum in Hampstead

Only a few hours sleep, due to more coughing. Off to London to see Mum. Just as the train was pulling in at Seaford, I realised I had no phone with my rail pass etc. so had to go home again. Told Mum I would be half an hour late. Almost a month since I saw Mum last due to the virus. Felt pleasure in noticing how much fuller and greener the landscape was. Lots of French people climbing on the train at Newhaven, from the ferry, crowding onto the shabby little train and asking each other if they were in Première classe. Climbing the hill in Hampstead, walked past a delivery many who was singing beautifully in what I imagined was an Indian language as he unloaded. I stopped to listen and he said hello to me at the end of a verse.

Mum in good spirits when we met, and we zoomed off to the The Old White Bear. Flask Walk looking very pretty, and wisteria flowering and Spanish bluebells in front gardens. 

Mum delighted that the man she calls the parson was in the pub. A youngish tallish guy in a dog collar, who drinks steady beers and taps thoughtfully at a laptop. He has a penchant for cowboyish hats, and long cowboyish coats. Mum is a fan. We like going there because it's our secret regular place that not many people seem to know about, when we go there at least. Mum had soup and a slightly disappointing treacle tart served cold. However we toddled back to the station in good spirits. 

The journey home fine, and Lorraine picked me up at Seaford Station when I arrived. Happy to have seen Mum, and to have pushed myself having done over ten thousand paces for the first time in a long time. Tired though, and an early night.