Peaceful Brighton, and about to go on long solo journey. It’s good to be here to connect with Lou before I go despite the fact I’m rotten with cold. I’m just run down from not having stopped. “Well if you’re gonna lower your immune system by drinking then you can’t look to me for sympathy when you get a cold,” says my beloved. She’s right of course. Nevertheless she cooked me hearty food and made me healthy tea and put the immersion on for a bath and thought about filling up water for by the bed and just made me chamomile and how the hell did I meet this incredible human?
The wind is howling outside. Lightning and constant crashing gales. It’s primal. Been like this for two days running, apparently. I’m glad I’m on the tunnel tomorrow and not the ferry. Car alarms keep going off from buffeting. I’m glad it’s a peaceful home here.
Today was just making sure things were ready to go. I had to empty my car at the lockup and then go and attend to the fishies and make sure they were gonna be ok. Then grab my passport and europlugs – both of which I have A PLACE FOR. Then shove loads of clothes into a denim bag and go to Hampstead. A car to load with a really random selection of antique furniture. I have no idea what they’re gonna say at the border having never done this sort of thing before, but I’m not a commercial vehicle so it’s hopefully gonna be okay, or am I being naïve?
It was going very well, the pack. Then Sam suddenly appeared with two huge chairs and it all went sideways. I went from a neat and logical load to a chaos of wood. There’s no backwards vision in Bergman. I even tried to repack when there wasn’t a rainstorm, but there’s no way of arranging it that lets me see behind me so I’m just gonna pretend it’s a van and hope nobody gets weird with me. The hardest border will be into France. I only have to get as far as Chartres though…
Let tomorrow do tomorrow. Tonight I’m just gonna go to sleep and listen to the wind and rain on the glass and snuggle Lou…
AlBarclay 