Oh wow! It’s our penultimate day. I’m not sure where the last four months went. Just as well I have the blog to look back through – between it and Google photos tracking my every move at least I’ve got the timeline covered.
We (and by we, I mean I) settle for a reluctantly quiet day, staying in Truro rather than venturing further afield.
There are the last minute things to do – picking up our cases and packing boxes from the motorhome storage place, picking up the hire car, laundering linens etc, but it’s the last stretch of Dobby’s efforts. Thank goodness for that.
Himself has man flu, allegedly caught from me, post Versailles. He’s taking it personally, as if I conspired to pass over my bug, just before he’s due to board a plane.
We pop in to Truro to run last errands and have a very English, home cooked, nursery food lunch, as befits someone with man flu. The Cloisters serves up an excellent beef pie, perfect for a grumpy sick boy,
whilst I have a ham, egg and chips. You can’t get more English than that.
The ham is the reason I ordered it – English ham (gammon) is different to ours, cured but uncooked to start with. I’ve always been curious to taste it. It’s a little sweeter than the cooked hams of home, far less salty and has a slightly softer texture. I can see Nigella’s Christmas ham recipe would work really well with this as the base.
Truro is packed with people rushing through their Christmas lists. I’ve never seen it so busy. There are the beginnings of what might be a Christmas market being set up at Lemon Quay and there’s a new food stall with an interesting interpretation of a nativity scene – it revolves above!
Eventually we have everything we need and the cases and packing boxes are to hand. The late afternoon and evening are spent packing everything away, filling the suitcases and snipping at each other unfortunately far too often. Packing is such a joy, said no-one, ever. Somebody bought quite a bit of stuff in the last four months, all of it somewhat fragile. Surely it wasn’t all me?
There was one bright spot of joy in the day – spotting a little grey squirrel just as we started the drive to Truro. I stopped and left him the last of my hazelnuts. I hope he enjoys them.
We need to be up, bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow, for the trek to London. It’s going to be long day. Let’s hope moods improve before then.
Miss Baci Travels 