A Special Un-Welcome Back

I'm just back from two lovely weeks in the UK: one week chez mum, and one week in Rhossili with my big bro and his family in a fantastic house for nine, including four teenagers...

Yesterday, it was back to France on the train. My suitcase had finally given up the ghost on the journey over, and been taken to the dump, so I was going back with a massive one my mum didn't need any more that used to be used by my dad on his visits over when it had been filled with goodies. It was heavy... and unreliable. Sitting in a train on the Circle line, my eldest, who'd been given the task of hauling it around, realised the trolley handle was stuck and wouldn't retract. Ah.. We decided to worry about how to get it into Eurostar's luggage space later.

I popped into M&S in St Pancras to pick up a couple of their tasty salads for the journey, and found myself also paying for four bottles of ale that my son added to the basket. He discovered ales such as Gower Gold, and 1555 this summer and took to them like a bee to honey.

Almost first on the train, my suitcase found a home in the roomy empty luggage space but had to be jiggled about later to make room for others as the train was heaving. Crossing Paris was as ghastly as usual. I'm so glad I don't live there and have to travel on the RER every day! We had enough time before our train to Montpellier to venture outside Gare de Lyon to buy the boys some kebabs and chips at their favourite Turkish place next to a sex shop...

The TGV was half an hour or so late much to my eldest's disgust as he was planning to go out and see his buddies when we arrived home - I don't know where he finds the energy! Eventually we were let on, and I managed to get the recalcitrant suitcase snugly stowed on the luggage rack as I was one of the first in that carriage too. Thank heaven!

Back home, my cat welcomed me with neurosis and revenge poo on the bed. Not the first time either, the little sod even though next door pop in and keep his dishes full and give him attention. Shame catteries are so expensive because he'd be in there like a flash!

Next up was the fridge. My eldest had joined us (just) in London, travelling by himself from Montpellier to London. He nearly missed the train however, as he partied the night before he left and didn't hear the alarm, or me calling his phone. As a result, he didn't do all the things on the list I left, such as to put all uneaten chicken breasts in the freezer, and ten days later, they were not a pretty sight, or smell. You can imagine how happy I was throwing out six raw chicken breasts!

He also left the dishwasher full and unwashed despite me telling him not to use it. It was a repulsive sight in there, I can tell you, and the smell was foul. One wash was not enough either, and one of my wooden spoons has been consigned to the bin covered as it is in mould even after everything the dishwasher could throw at it.

Finally, this morning, my car wouldn't start so I had to call out the Assistance, then watch as the car was taken away to deal with the battery, and wait for a taxi to take me to the car rental office. A morning's worth. As I was in the taxi heading for the centre of town, I saw the truck with my car on the back that I'd seen off an hour before going in the opposite direction to where Toyota is located in Montpellier. Bizarre. I presume it's all okay... and will get to where it's going eventually!

The rental car is a snazzy DS3 which is black with a white roof, runs on turbo-charged diesel and goes like a bat out of hell. All paid for by the Assistance. Could be worse...