The English weather is doing its bit to make us feel homesick before we've even left. This weekend the sun shone brightly as we continued our farewell tour. We headed south, to the rolling hills of the North Downs. Beautiful, quintissentially English countryside, and peaceful - provided you ignored the jets landing at Gatwick and the packs of motorcyclists terrorising the locals. Gus drove his Mini (named Miranda...I know...don't even go there) and it was fun bombing down the M4/M25/M23 at illegal speeds with the top down. The wind was blowing in our hair. Well, the wind was blowing in Gus' hair. I felt the breeze on my bald patch.
We went for dinner and stayed overnight with our friends Michael and "Champagne" Jane, whom we met on SeaDream last December. They were the perfect hosts. Especially as they let us watch the Britain's Got Talent final. Their house is stunning with great views and a wine cellar that rivals Oddbins.
We tried our best to make a significant dent in it however. Gus has been a bit fragile today. These youngsters - no stamina.
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