… but we had a slight change of plan.

Cécile had a ‘phone call from her mother’s neighbour or someone on the island on Sunday – apparently Mother has had another funny turn and so Cécile’s presence was required.

After working on Ice Station Zebra to fit a few extra locks and so on, we went round to see Rosemary to pick up our shopping from the UK and to leave her a bicycle that one of her visitors wants to borrow. And then we headed off to Liz and Terry’s for tea (and gorgeous it was too) before going back to Ice Station Zebra for an early night.

Next morning, wide awake at 06:00, we loaded up Caliburn with a pile of stuff and after his Controle Technique (passed, of course), we got our motor running and headed for the highway, in the best Mars Bonfire tradition, and the general direction of Fromentine.

That’s Fromentine there, looking from under the new bridge that links the isle of Noirmoutier to the mainland, but Cécile’s mother’s island is a little too far out for a bridge (like one hour’s sailing time) and so, having arrived nice and early, it left us the time to go for a wander and a little bit of looting and pillaging in a second-hand bookshop.

Once Cécile was safely installed upon her ferry I hit the high road and the 880-odd kilometres to Brussels. It is in fact more than 880-odd because the sat-nav, that works these things out, wants to send me around the Boulevard Peripherique in Paris, but even though that might be 60kms or so shorter, the hassle of getting around Paris, even after midnight, is simply not worth the effort and I always take the Francilienne, the N104 that does some kind of tortuous circular route around the city but far enough out so as not to ne encumbered by traffic at that time of night.

I was back in Brussels after my 1500km drive at 04:00, having stopped off at Ancénis for a pizza (thanks for the cheese, Rosemary) and by the time I had finished unloding Caliburn and parking him up in an uncontrolled parking zone 10 minutes walk away from here, it was 06:15.

Yes, yet another working day of over 24 hours. Brings back the good old days, doesn’t it? It must be all of, ohh, I dunno, three months, since my last over-24-hour working day.

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