A smooth ride home

The trip home was mostly uneventful and went smoothly. Get the feeling that Emirates are showing off by having their own terminal in one of the biggest airports in the world. Seemless check-in, customs and short train to the rest of the airport where the non-blogger even grabbed a neck massage from the professionals there.

These model planes are definitely the best. Happy with our seats considering the build up to the flight. 12 hours went quickly. Yet another family who thinks it's ok to make a lot of noise when everyone else is trying to sleep. It's unfortunate that noise reduction headsets still let human voices through whilst blocking all else. Must work on that one for future journeys.

We arrived right on sunrise. Even Melbourne airport was running smoothly. They need to be careful there or their reputation for being the worst at arrivals may be seriously challenged going forward. Melbourne weather has changed. It was a beautiful sunny day to arrive home to.

The trees have leaves and the garden is in full bloom. Now all that is needed is to sort through the thousands of photos...The price of an itchy shutter button finger.

Swimming and Shopping

The only plans we had for the day was shopping and lounging by the pool afterwards. Thanks to a timely message from our hosts of yesterday we realised that shops are closed today. It's Friday. Day of rest in the Muslim world so we reversed the order. Straight after breakfast in the incredibly busy hotel restaurant we headed up to the roof - expecting a full environment and finding it wonderfully unattended.

So we spent the 3 hours lounging around in and out of the water, sun and shade. Reading and relaxing. The weather today was forecast exactly as all others for this time of year. Today though the sky was blue and it did not seem so oppressive. Therefore the explanation for the brown mist on previous day's is smog. When they aren't all running around creating pollution you can see for miles. The view from the top of the spire today would've been worth the mullah. We didn't care that we missed it on a clear day as our hours poolside were priceless. Even the crane overlooking us was silent and devoid of peering workers who would probably be religiously appalled by the swimsuits the women were wearing and yet insanely jealous their culture doesn't allow that sort of thing. After lazing around for few hours slowly acclimatising to the heat in this seriously perfect day to be doing exactly this we headed back to the room to shower and get ready to assault the shops as soon as they opened. Catching a taxi right out the front was easy. Getting him to understand where we wanted to go a little bit harder. Later on we figured out he couldn't read english or even interpret maps. So he went the long way to get where we wanted to be, refused to pull over when we asked and eventually had to be forceful in order to exit the car. We then walked to our destination using an app with can tell us where we are even when off net. Dunno how it does it but it sure would have been useful 6 weeks ago. After buying half of one stores goods we went in search of some specific items we'd seen on yesterday's safari. A few loops of one area was interesting to note the non-blogger actually getting heated by the continuous pressure to buy stuff by men in the street. Harking back to the days in Phuket when people still wanted to sell you a suit even though you're carrying one - we had one dude wanting to look into our shopping bags to see what we'd already purchased.

Being thankful that the place was relatively quiet with more than half the shops closed and not too many people about, eventually realising we were in the wrong demographic for the items we wanted we wandered over to the canal to see if we could catch a water taxi across to an area where a like minded tourist had suggested we go. Never got across the river as nearby were all the bric-a-brac stalls we needed. Non-blogger was in her element as the negotiations flew fast and furious as prices tumbled and sellers had pretend heart attacks and threatened to close the stores and/ or sell their firstborns in order to cover the horendous losses they were incurring. In the meantime we did catch a view of the chaos of the waterways.

Boats laden with mostly men going all over the place. Possibly ready to sink from overcrowding and the wash of other vehicles. There was a toxic looking sludge floating on top although it seemed relatively clear underneath. Suspect high salt levels like the Adriatic may create this phenomenon. Fully loaded with arms of shopping bags we walked all the way back to the hotel as we were only 15 mins away. It was hot and dirty in the concrete canyons.

These locals playing volleyball were tough nuts indeed. Spent time recuperating and consuming drinks in the room before heading out again for dinner at a local Arabian fare place which was all white with a touch of blue inside. Thinking we were in Greece we soon noticed the differences. Primarily they'd run out of the rice wrapped in vine leaves and secondary in that no alcohol was being served. This is the norm here so not disapointing at all. The food was great and we rolled out looking for a taxi home in the chaos of jam packed roads. Looks like the locals were making up for earlier lost time for prayers and were now all out and about. No taxis but a non formal driver spotted us and got us home at the same cost anyway. All good. Not ripped off. So pretty happy about that. Back in the room for one last night in a different bed to that of home.

Red dunes in the sunset

Catching up on lost sleep was the main aim of the morning. Readers of this tome may have realised by now that the agenda has been full, the pace frantic, the experiences wide ranging, the senses assaulted and eventually the brain gets overloaded. If it wasn't for this diary most of it would be quickly washed away in the stream of life's cancophony. As it is is we took the opportunity of not having anything planned for a few hours, nicely stranded inside an air-conditioned cell where outside the oppressive heat taxes fortitudinal strength at an extraordinary rate. That's a long way of saying we slept for 14 hours. Missing our free breakfast even. Milking it for all its worth we even called room service for a brunch at 1:00pm and were more than happy with the cost, quality, quantity and timing. After all - we now had plans. Things to do. Places to go. People to meet. Therefore at 3:00 pm we were in the foyer wondering if our ride arranged by others would eventuate. It did. Bang on time a dude walked in and started asking people questions. A quick look at his phone revealed the non-bloggers name and our connection was made and we were off. Next adventure starts here: - The drive out of the provence took over an hour. We went past yesterday's mall in the middle of nowhere and kept going. Ever so slowly the landscape changed ever so slightly. From the grey coloured sandy barren drab ground dotted with boring buildings of varying heights, purposes and thus captivatingness to a more natural desert type feel as camel farms (big ones with fences and dunes with trees nibbled to a uniform Hight) became prominent. Slowly also the colour of the sand was changing into a red base which certainly helps the ambience as does the pollution based mist disappearing - so we could start to see hills in the distance.

We hung around for a while at a tourist depot where people get to jaunt around the red dunes on ATV's. Having done this in Moonambel it didn't resonate with us so we kept the wallet in the pocket. There was also the desire to travel home in a seat on the plane as compared to in the cargo hold. Then our hosts turned up and after having some interesting head dress fun we hopped into our vehicles and we went dune bashing. Big time.

The dunes are extensive and we could see many trains of land cruisers in the distance as well as ours closer up all doing the similar manouvers. Sliding sideways spraying plumes of red sand over the jalopy was a favourite action. There is no cause to be concerned about errosion as the winds quickly adjust for the next day to make it all pristine for the next attack. And so we lept, slided, reved, braked, gunned, swerved, sluced, lept, carresed, ploughed, dug our way through the red dunes of the dessert of the UAE. Eventually we pulled up for a photo shoot where we all jostled for a pose in front of the setting sun before heading off for the next installment.

Like a modern day caravan of nomads we snaked our way amougnst the dunes, passing numerous neon lit camps cleverly hidden in the gullies which made us think we were heading into an uninhabited area which was actually quite the opposite. The illusion was complete though, upon arrival at our oasis we were given the opportunity to ride a camel (for about 10 metres) which was great. The up and down was the best bit (had to hang on !) And then we went inside the camp for the evening's entertainment. The stars in the sky here move quickly as they are aircraft - nothing else penetrates the persistent haze. One can see why a supernova burning 2000 years ago would have inspired 3 camel riders to journey eastwards to eventually stumble across a crib in a barn. It would've been the only thing visible in these parts. The world may worked out differently if they had've said WTF, shrugged their shoulders and gone back to their flocks. No one else in the crowd was looking at the sky in the camp because the entertainment was full on. We all sat around the stage and had three shows of local ethnic origin. The first guy up was a great dancer who used the ancient aribic art of led lights sown into costumes to fabulous effect. It's interesting to note that the use of this technology has just taken off recently in the western world. Swirling to the rythmic sounds of (admittedly pre recorded and amplified) nomadic arabian music he kept us all transfixed as he swirled and twirled, slowly losing garments much to the girls delight. He really won them over when he converted one into a pseudo baby (effect accentuated by accompanying soundtrack).

The food was great. The dress up in the local garb was hilarious - hopefully not too disrespectful. Surrounding the central stage was a range a stalls providing a variety of items for consumption or purchase. Mostly free though. Shisha was an experience worth while doing - accentuated by hearing the camels snorting outside just behind us. We didn't purchase any but hats off to the guys doing coloured sand art in bottles. This was really clever stuff. The other dancers were also very entertaining. The belly dancer was extremely sensuous (whilst not crossing any boundaries of course) and had a lot of fun in engaging the kids in the crowd and the fire dancer was lucky not to envelope himself in a conflagration of flames. We had dinner late due to dress ups and subsequently were the last to leave the camp. Our hosts were fabulous and the whole experience raised our enthusiasm for the country and we now realise there is a heap more to the place. The drive home started out with dune bashing in the dark, a quick stop to pump up tyres properly and then onto the brightly lit highways. 9:00 pm and workers are on the side of the road doing manual landscaping. The construction here goes on and on. Getting back to our room we popped upstairs to check out the views. Nup. Our concrete wall is as good as the car park or the high rises across the road. Maybe the pool will be enticing in the daylight.

In to the heat

Flying into Dubai the place looked exactly the same as 6 weeks ago. The brown land has been parched so much by the harsh sun it is almost white.

So we'll go with a grey colour which the whole landscape seems to compromise of. Even the buildings. It's extraordinary that mankind is prevailing in this climate. Even thriving to an amazing extent. How this is being achieved is currently a mystery. Obviously there is heaps of electricity required and there has to be fresh water. No idea where these come from. What we can see is buildings rising up out of the ground and reaching into the sky at a furious pace. There is a cloud of low lying mist laying all over the land. Obscuring clarity it has the same brown tinge as everything else. Immediate thought was this is pollution, however once you feel the heat and breathe the humidity it becomes apparent that this may be natural. We spent the day in a kind of foggy haze ourselves due to the lack of sleep and the need to keep moving. The cultural differences are apparent everywhere. First up was when exiting from the airport we were confronted with women taxi drivers. All wearing the traditional garb including head dress. Picture that. Women taxi drivers. They were not prevalent elsewhere but certainly have the airport market sown up. A 20 minute journey to our hotel and we arrived in the heat and chaos to find our room not ready (expected) and so we eventually found some change rooms upstairs to enable a refresh, change of clothes before braving the heat and the metro to get to the next destination. There's always a destination. This was a big one. The metro has a curious system of gender separation with women up the front bit and males packing out the rest. Assuming this is in order to protect the gals it's an interesting insight and sad indictment on the males in society here that these lengths need to be taken. This trip was negotiated easily thanks to the kind help of a stranger who talked us through the process on our way.

Experiencing the scale of what they have achieved here we walked through a raised air-conditioned tunnel to the Dubai Mall where we successfully found our way to (even though the signage was really poor) to the Burj Khalifa. Coffee was a necessity before entering the extensive maze of crowd control which was obviously set up to cater for the huge queues they get here. Luckily for us we went straight through all of these (as there were only a few people there) and caught the lifts up to the 124th story of the worlds tallest building. Basically this failed to impress. Sure it's high up but with the views obscured by the mist we could only see nearby landmarks, cityscapes and just make out the coastline. There was an army of photography vultures pouncing on people to take thier pictures and superimpose them on clear photos of the view.

Souvenir stalls abounding as we saw some ridiculously inane hanging swings which were obviously designed to simply ammuse those that cant get close to the windows. Basically it a tourist trap. And a really big one. Thank goodness we didn't spend the extra to go right up and also not having to suffer the normal queues and crushes.

Lunch was a yummy pizza and salad in a (very empty) combined supermarket/restaurant in the mall before we headed off on the next destination. On the way we got well distracted by the waterfall which is truly spectacular. A cab ride out to the Outlet Market to meet up with non-blogger work colleague.

It was a dry journey out there and we discovered an parallel to DFO which was much bigger, less populated and not any real cheap goods when compared to back home. So whilst an interesting experience it will not go down as a highlight. The taxi ride back was over the same roads but we did see some camels in the distance and the Burj Khalifa looms over the skyline like an evil spire described in a fantasy story.

Finally back in our room we tried to catch lost Z's for a couple of hours. Deciding to eat in the hotel restaurant was a good idea as the cost and food were OK and we didn't have to suffer the heat. Thinking we'd done the wrong thing the place was empty when started but they swarmed in later which explained why all that food was sitting idly in the buffet. Back to the room to enjoy the view of the concrete wall out the window. Apparently the hotel has good views of the city. But not for us plebby Aussies. So we watched TV whist getting ready for more catching zeds.

Leaving Europe

Her royal highness got tea delivered to her bedside by her page boy/nephew - just to kick the day off.

He was on the second day of first aid training this morning and today was dealing with bleeding customers and similar types of injuries. We had a delightful breakfast in the ball room which consisted of all the fare associated with a grand buffet as well as a full English breakfast served a la carte by Owens minions. Rushing to pack and shave the blogger then took a hunk of skin off his nose which promptly bled profusely and kept on doing with no sign of abatement. Managing to pack and check out he sat in the foyer catching up on posts with one hand while trying to stem the flow with the other.

A trip to the local pharmacy by the non-blogger resulted in some advice that worked brilliantly - Vaseline. Too easy. We then caught up with Owe for coffee and farewells in an extremely well appointed cafe across the road. We also empowered him with our new found first aid knowledge ( which was very timely given the circumstances). The drive to Manchester was through more typical English countryside and eventually onto the motorway which seemingly had no speed restrictions.

Cruising along at sometimes 140kmh was quite fun with the roads so well made it seemed effortless. We had a bit of fun finding a petrol station near the airport until the phone came to the rescue and sorted that for us as well. Basically no matter how hard we tried we could not get lost. So with the car dropped off, an easy check in and another hickup at security ( lesson not learnt - so it seems) we had a quick bite and refreshment and then onto the great seats up the front of the A380-800 to have the flight ruined by a spoilt brat and selfish family right behind us that insisted on talking for the entire overnight trip. Let's hope we don't run into them over the day or so, best to keep international relations running swearluy,,. And so it's farewell Europe and to those who chose to stay or those that will try to exit , for us we move into the last leg of the journey.

Across the Cotswolds

An unfortunate faulty alarm meant a bit of stress by running 30 minutes later than scheduled. Nick graciously did not say anything as we headed off through school traffic jams to Milton Keynes to collect the hire car for the next 2 days. Bucks is such a quiet and quaint centre, surrounded by major satellite centres that it does not have infrastructure such as significant shops, trains and hire car companies. Part of its charm. Hopefully soon the government will be opening up an old rail line so at least they'll have that service available locally. If they can afford it. So hopefully Brexit will fix this.

After getting the new wheels back to base we packed our bags and said our fond farewell's. It will be great to catch up with them in 2019 when they take their turn and come downunder. They can hear the thunder. Where the women blow and the men chunder (Men at work line ... Don't blame the blogger). Finally working out how to use the phone to navigate we didn't miss the missing in built GPS as we headed into the majestic Cotswolds on the hunt of missing relatives. Rain and drizzle tried their best to make the place look gloomy, however the charm of the old buildings combined with the bright colours of the autumn leaves overroad those attempts and it was still an entirely enjoyable drive. Stopping at Dedington for coffee and muffins was a good spur of the moment thing to do. Got caught up in a cellar of an antiques shop purely because we'd seen a TV show doing exactly that. Fascinating trinkets containing thousands of memories, most guessed at as the artefacts don't actually tell their story verbally. It's more a case of applying your knowledge and imagination to fully understand the messages contained within. Continuing over the rolling hills, making the occasional diversion always delighted and surprised E.g. with pheasants strolling across narrow country laneways. And the phone always getting us back on track with no stress. The sun tried to break through but no success. When we arrived in Broadway we were greeted by a barrage of bright stone buildings (local Cotswolds stone) and a surprising tap on the window. There was Owen grinning away peering in the window 2 cms from his Aunt's face.

Somethings don't change - his sense of humour is one of them. We were extremely well looked after in Lygon Arms. This hotel has been been hosting travellers in the region for over 600 (maybe 700) years. It's had royalty and those who brought royalty down. Indeed a room which hosted Oliver Cromwell the night before he defeated Charles 1st is now dedicated to him. Owen kindly replicated the fireplace pose, have a suspicion what he was considering conquering but he didn't ellucidate.

We got put up in one of the old house rooms at a ridiculous price and thus lived like royalty ourselves for a few hours. The floors creak and are wildly uneven ( even though recently renovated). The doors are once again built for hobbits and there is no set plan to the layout at all. It was great to catch up and hear about the adventures he'd undertaken so far and continuing to follow. He's rapidly rising to a position of authority in the the hotel and thus can swing some favours for relatives as they are so far travelled and infrequent at that. We went out for dinner at a rival salubrious place with Laura in tow. Being Italian she struggled a bit keeping up with our banter however was delightful in doing so. They seem pretty happy together. Ahh young lust.. what a wonderful thing. Catching a taxi back into town we had a nightcap in the servants quarters just to check up on the health and lifestyle of the workers just to make sure they're not too unhealthy.

As it turns out they are cramped but warm and comfortable. Getting by OK. So all good on that front. Tired and exhausted we retired to our palatial room and fell into a deep sleep. The ghosts that haunt the place didn't disturb us. No idea even if they tried.

Sunday in Bucks

Being a Sunday things were relatively quiet in the town of Buckingham as we went for what turned out to be an unexpected and yet pleasantly long walk on our way to lunch. Past the Olde worlde gaol we diverted away from the road and climbed up the hill through the enchanted forest which was rife with squirrels.

The vermin kind unfortunately. Looks like the Poms got their own back on that front. They gave us rabbits, the Yanks gave them Grey Squirrels. Emerging onto green playing fields with the sound of yelling and cheers we stumbled onto a junior ruby match just as they scored a try. Very exciting for them.

The journey continued as we went past fields trying to shoot blackfaced sheep. Arriving at the Wheatsheaf we ducked through the doors and sat down for a refreshing drink whilst admiring the old architecture which was constructed so long ago it catered more for hobbits than men. The small folk have either been pushed away or evolved using growth hormones. Unfortunately the buildings haven't changed to suit. It's quaint but also quite dangerous for the average height person these days. And so stooping our way through the establishment we made our way to the sun room had had delightfully over the top roast for lunch. The walk back was vital in order to work off some of the gained calories. The sun started to seriously shine completely upsetting our metabolisms and forcing layers to be removed. Once back at base the women went shopping via vehicle and the gentlemen went looking for open establishments in town by foot. Needless to say they found a couple serving local wares of the liquid variety and had a splendid afternoon consuming them.

A fab dinner was whipped up by Sarah after which more of the worlds bigger problems were duly solved. It's interesting that Brexit may actually achieve some of this. If anything by making the masses more aware of the details, the issues at stake and the consequences of their actions. We can only hope so.

To market to market

The four of us were up early and drove with Andy (mate of Nick's) to Milton Keynes where cars were sorted and the four then boarded am express train to London. Lucky it was fast because there were no seats and thus had to stand for the entire 40 minutes of the journey. Arriving at Euston station (yep the game of monopoly was immediately underway) we met up with Carol of whom the girls had not seen for over 30 years.

Much gossiping ensued as we all ploughed deep down into the depths of the underground finding our way eventually to Fenchurch Station (tick) where after a bit of mucking around we caught up with Jeremy and thus the reunion was complete. Standing in the queue and going through security to get up to the Sky Garden was pretty easy. As was snaffling a comfy seat for us to catch our breath and snap some selfies. Nick and the blogger then did a quick walk around the garden - admiring the view.

It was great to have a direct line of sight into the tower where so many years before the argument to bring down an empire was conducted. The boys then left the reunionists to their revalries and reminiscing and once again toured the complexities of the tube system to emerge at Borough Market. This is the place not so long ago got into the world press headlines for all the wrong reasons. It was great to see that the attacks had not dampened the enthusiasm or the size of the crowds which certainly just go to show how pointless and ineffective these events are.

We spent some time sampling some of the offerings in Lathwaites, which sell fine wines under the impressive stone archways of some old ancient store house. Very nice ambience well removed from the crowds outside. We did however join the throng later at the Market Porter for a pint on the sidewalk whilst the market crowds busselled around us. Next stop was the Southwark tavern which was pretty much the centre of the attacks. No sign of any fear or panic. Just distant memories for those that care to remember.

As we had great seats to crowd watch and partake in the fare we stayed for a few pints of various flavours as well as indulging in a lunch of fish and chips. Moving on we used the noisy little underground bullets to get to Camden Market. This area is a revelation with a wide range of cultures, stereotypes and thought processes on display. Everyone had the same attitude though. Have fun. And that they were. Saturday evening in Camden and all the weirdos were out on display. A huge variety of tatts, piercings, hairstyles were moving all around - seemingly moving eclectic to normal.

Negotiating our way into a pub which seemed to resonate with the vibe we soaked up the ambience with old punk rock blaring in the background and watching the various individuals all happily interact with each other. Being transient ourselves and watching the clock we moved on up the street to end up in a far more normal establishment next to the canal, which just happened to be showing the only bit of colour in the entire city for the entire day.

So whilst the people and the vibe were colourful the rest of the place was shrouded in its usual drab grey coat. Leaving the Ice Warf we grabbed some travellers from the corner store (you can that sort of thing here) shot through the underground again and met the girls on the train for a fun trip home.

This time we had seats so it was pleasant and we ended back at Bucks for a debrief with a 16 yo red and cheese platter and conversations late into the evening.

Across the Isle

Finalising our packing and getting ready for yet another migration we spent a few more hours in the pristine residence of P&P. With sun shining through the blinds the kitchen was toasty warm and the linen was drying nicely on the hoist outside. The weather has been really disappointing in that we'd love to hang it on the Poms that their country is permanently covered in a dull, grey and thus boring cover of cloud however with all this sunshine highlighting the variety of autumn colours currently bursting out of all the trees the place seems to be thriving with life and general painters pallets of joy. P&P drove us to the train station and we said our fond farewell's. And then we shot off through the brilliant sunshine making the green fields and hedgerows glow at a speed which blurred the nearby bushes. At this speed the trip two days earlier would've lasted about 10 minutes. Would've missed spotting the pheasants though. A change of services at Swindon did a great job of re-enforcing the traditional view of the old country by managing to be grey, dull and boring even whilst the sun was shining.

15 minutes rail travel later we embarked in Didcot and being greeted by the sunny smile and disposition of Sarah who bundled us into her jalopy for a fun drive up to Buckingham through quaint towns with many traditional buildings with Maggie roofs. She's dead now so the locals refer to them as chocolate box houses. We stopped at Averby for a shop in a local food festival market thingy they had going in the main square. We collected ingredients to put dinner together as well as lunch in a local supermarket (very civilised).

Little did we know that a strange coloured mango looking fruit labelled "Kim Fruit" was actually a Brazilian/Chinese variety. We would've believed the seller as well but he mentioned on parting that he made the whole thing up on the spot. Pondering what sort of possibilities could create an effective combination between the two cultures (!!?) we headed off though the lush green fields and onto Bucks. With two players in the original household missing (one permanently away on campus and the other at an '80's rockers concert) the Britton's place was still very welcoming and homely.

First thing noticed on the wall was a framed dedication to Nick's attendance at the MCG where we witnessed the greatest capitulation of the Aussie cricketers of all time ( they've done worse since - practice makes perfect heh boys?). Talk about rubbing salt into the wound. At least we can be comfortable in the knowledge that they'll never be able to understand - let alone play the perfect code of football.

Perched high above the green parks below we watched the sky on fire as we relaxed, caught up and had home made burgers constructed from the ingredients previously purchased. Early to bed as we suspect tomorrow could be a big one. Old London town ... Here we come.

Down time

Today was downtime day. One in which one can can ones breath, put ones feet up so to speak. Collect ones thoughts. Pack ones things. Prepare for ones forward journey. Etc. Etc. We did venture out for a spot of shopping at the local supermarket. This was insightful in that these establishments (like everywhere else) sell alcohol on the shelves the same as all other goods. Unlike the nanny state back home. Also Aussie wine is the equivalent price to that on sale in country of origin. Given prices on most items are generally more expensive here (after currency conversion) the only way this could be explained is they charge too much tax back there. Nothing for Brexit to fix here.

We then did a P&P thing and went to the golden arches for a coffee. Even more P&P we sat in the car whilst consuming them. No complaints about either the quality (apart from a sprinkles mix up on the cappuccino's) or the ambience. Great conversations can be had in any location. The afternoon was whiled away by updating blogs, catching up on emails, getting some shuteye and teasing the cat. This flowed into the afternoon game show viewing which was once again pointless... followed by eggheads. This actually turned out to be reasonably useful the following day when the blogger stumbled across a harlequin ladybug and could not only identify it but also highlight the fact that it's not native to the Island.

As the sun was performing its long decent over the southern horizon (as is it's wont in this part of the world) creating a typical long lasting photographers joy zone called "Time of Day" we went for a walk to experience this part of the world in this specific situation. The suburbia recently created sits amougnst a very confusing network of of interconnecting roads which don't have names.

All those deceased people who could've been imortalised by having their moniker stamped on signs and maps forever passed up up for obscure titles such as A303, M5 or A324. No idea where they go, what purpose they hold , or how it applies to to getting from place to place. Back home we have signs saying "Ernst Wanke Road - exit 2 km" which brings a smile to everyone who sees it.

Every day. Over and over again. The locals here really should lift their game as far as street naming goes. So much missed opportunity. Anyway, we did grab some snaps to show there is country beside the estate - making the most of close ups.

Paul showed off his culinary skills by cooking up a fabulous french provincial dish for mains followed by a chocolate tart desert and then a delightful selection of cheeses and biscuits with matching wines and ale's to wash it all down with. It was pretty cool to discover an old artefact made by a talented artist.

Rattle and roll to the beach

Today we had a surprise excursion to the seaside town of Minehead. This was a fabulous treat by our hosts. They ( the organisation, not specifically our hosts) have an extremely well run tourist railway which has a vast array of engines, rolling stock, permanent employees, volunteers and various paraphernalia. It took just over an hour rolling through green hills and valleys, dotted with brightly coloured pheasants, black faced sheep, Shetland ponies and the occasional cow.

Harking back to yesteryear we chugged, blew, snorted and whistled our way enjoying the serene countryside and local characters as they played out their passion of toying with trains. Being the off season we four were pretty much the youngest people on board - which provides an insight into the demographics involved. No one was complaining of a sore throat so the advertising must be true.

Minehead is a tourist destination for locals who can't afford passports. As such its beach is on the Bristol channel and over the far side in the mist we could see Wales ( tick that off!). The seaside accommodation area with its fair ground, water slides, entertainment stages etc. was all pretty much empty as were the resulting game arcades and other places. All pinging and singing and flashing in vain attempts to entice kids to insert coins. No kids. No coins.

The beach was deserted apart from one insistent baby, the cold Westerly blowing off the Atlantic ocean was pushing sand towards the exposed mud flats as the tide was a long way out. As we were leaving, the pristine brown waters had begun to creep back over the sodden flats, it easily would be a very picturesque sight for the totally colour blind. We walked into town and stopped in a pub for coffee and carrot cake and further admired the architecture being nicely highlighted by the autumn leaves in the main Street. The plethora of cheap one pound shops had all their wares out on display on the footpath stalls and it was sort of surreal not having the hordes milling past consuming it all.

The sun was attempting to break through the clouds so once again the weather is not adhering to it's reputation. The trip back was the reverse of the trip there. Literally. The same pheasants were in the same fields etc. etc. One wonders what the horse was thinking whilst he was watching us so intently. You'd reckon that as these trains go by at least 10 times a day he'd be totally over it by now. Maybe he's keeping an eye out for passengers making subtle rude gestures to camera wielding Trainspotters ( which is apparently a sport the locals play ).

We had an insightful update on the happenings in nearby Porlock from Phillip the Guard as Polly and Paul know him quite well. The conversation and indeed the script could've been straight from the same writing hand as those who created the Vicar of Dibly. Dawn would've been delighted in hearing the local cafe owners menu had improved enormously since she had shacked up with a 19 year old. After catching our breath for a couple of hours at home including another session of pointless TV (will Brexit fix this? Highly unlikely...) we headed out for dinner at a local pizza (chain ) place. It was surprisingly really good. Reminiscent of those created in the big apple. Home for couple of quiet ale's before hitting the sack.

Carving up Taunton

First up the boys ran around town dropping the hire car off and getting the girls into town so they could look around the shops and.... do the sort of things that girls do when looking around shops. The boys went off to play golf. Gotta love a day of stereotyping whilst visiting far off lands. The golf course is an intelligent use of available space on the grounds of an old manor house which has the space for only 9 holes which they extend to 18 by having multiple approaches to the same green.

Being on old grounds they are obviously not allowed to cut down significant trees. Even if they are directly in the way. This led to some interesting outcomes with some fabulous shots being rudely interrupted by broughs getting in the way. We discovered some magical qualities of the course. We had steam trains distracting putts, fighter jets screaming overhead. Moles (in the ground), squirrels, stinging thistles, ball gobbling drains and mysterious fairways that you can run a ball along, see where it went and still not find it.

Lack of adaptive skill level aside, a great time was had. The grey clouds were strangely missing all day. Making it seem warm and even more effectively making the autumn leaves glow in spectacular fashion. Very unlike what we know England for. Possibly something Brexit could fix. Maybe not the weather itself but the reputation it has. So whilst the boys were carving up Cedar Falls golf course the girls were carving the centre of Taunton. The non-blogger wheeled Polly around the various shops proving that a licence is really required to perform this task safely. Not so much for the person in the chair but more so for the unsuspecting public anywhere in the vacinity. Large L-plates may have helped, failing that a sign saying "sorry" may have made some recipients of hurt feet and the occasional ankle scrape somewhat better. However due to that lack of planning (and training) the public had to suffer the unexpected pain and accept the verbal apologies being sprayed around with frequent abandon and many laughs to boot. The threats to sue were not fullfilled and so the population of the town will slowly forget. The dints in the town's infrastructure will remain as reminders for much longer.

An afternoon break watching local TV which was Pointless (name of the show - not time spent...LOL). Dinner at the Merry Monk (aren't they all after having a few?) was a feast for royalty based on the carvery method. The atmosphere was very "Olde worlde", the company delightful and the stroll home under the almost full moon very merry indeed. Just like the Monks - so that worked.