Home again, home again, jiggity jig!

We set off from Dover at the break of dawn on Monday. Customs didn't want to search our bloated trailer and car, which was one worry dispensed with- I was dreading having to unpack it all, as I'm convinced it would never have fitted back in! 

The sea crossing was bearable, but there was very little open on board. We weren't able to indulge in our usual Brasserie breakfast and had to queue* in the Food Hall to grab a sterile (literally) bonanza breakfast in a box. It was actually delicious and copious! I saved one half of the sausage baguette for lunchtime, but there were four, yes, FOUR hash browns with an egg on top, and a bottomless mug of tea. I don't think it was supposed to be bottomless, but Kevin struck up a blokey rapport with the man on the till. We were required to wear our masks for the duration of the journey, but we were permitted to remove them to eat, thank goodness! 

There were very few people on the ferry, and large sections of seating were roped off, as were most of the toilets, so we spent most of the crossing on deck, watching the beautiful white cliffs slowly disappear into the sea mist. 

I'd envisaged finding yet another new perfume in the shop, but it was only open for half an hour, with a maximum of five people in the shop at one time, so, knowing I would selfishly need the full half hour, I decided to endure my current perfume collection for now. We were first on our car deck on the ferry and, therefore, first off, which is always unexpectedly exciting! We had decided to avoid the terrifying peripherique around Paris, so headed towards Rouen.

The journey was smooth, but it takes quite a bit longer going 'off toll'; there are a lot of traffic light and speed bumps to contend with. We stuck on a CD and enjoyed the countryside. After exhausting Elton John, The Greatest Showman soundtrack and James Blunt, we decided to see what we thought of the 2013 Ibiza dance CDs we'd obtained from our nephew. Quelle surprise! We loved them! We were, however, exhausted from seat-thrubbing dance moves. 

We only had to stop for fuel once, and we were pleased to find that the French are taking their coronavirus precautions very seriously; there were gloves and anti-bac gel available at the pumps. About 200 km from home, the engine light came on. I know; our previous journey down through France was severely hampered by a wildly-leaking radiator, and we didn't expect to suffer another breakdown. We pulled off the motorway and turned the car off and on again. That did the trick. It did the trick seven times.

As we neared home, we were delighted to see the Monedieres mountains, well, big hills, slide into view. So close to home now!

At this point, we started to speculate about the potential catastrophes that would greet us: rodent takeover, roof collapse, buildings lost under brambles and weeds. It turned out that only one of these was true, well, nearly.

The desperately sad state of my vegetable garden!

The desperately sad state of my slate tile chimes.

The pool base and caravan are still visible...

The pottery and piggery are lost!

The terrace has not fared well weed-wise, well, Kevin's bit hasn't.

There were a few tufts of growth on my stones, mainly due to the 'attractive moss' I'd promoted.

This is what I laughingly call my 'top lawn'.

This is where we sat to have a well-earned glass of wine before going to bed. France is an hour ahead of the UK, so it was still lightish at 10.30pm.

Some of the wood in the sitting room had developed a green mould. This is the mango wood chest; the mould wiped off easily and a bit of beeswax has returned it to its usual beautiful patina. I suspect that the mould might be related to the 'miracle of the geraniums'. Kevin thinks it's related to the damp in the cellar below, but then, he thinks that every ill in the world is related to that. You wouldn't believe how much he talks about it.

The Miracle of the Geraniums:

My geraniums, which normally adorn the windowsills at the front of cottage #1, due to our long corona-virus related stay in the UK, had not received any water since mid-November. But, THEY WERE ALIVE and flowering! What kind of nature-based miracle is this?!

I'm not citing this as a miracle (heaven actually forbid), but, look at the onions, potatoes, garlic and ginger we inexplicably left here in November! Three of the onions were fine, and we've now eaten them with no ill effects. Yet.

For now, we remain in quarantine.

* We were actually first in the queue, but I'm a natural moaner and exaggerator.