Hello.
We have dawdled, shockingly badly, and it is almost one o’clock in the morning.
I have got to get up at seven and so I am going to desist from writing very shortly.
We are, however, home and our usual life is in the process of being restored. The washing machine has been started, the sand has been emptied from our trouser turn-ups, and the camper van has been scrubbed out and put away.
The conservatory was terrifically hot when we arrived, although it was half past ten at night. It was so hot that some of the fig leaves, the ones that had been touching the glass, had got brown and curled up. We had watered it hard before we left, and so it had all survived, but it was beginning to look a little wilted in places. I do not know what we are going to do about its, because we water it with two massive tanks at the side of the house that fill with rainwater from the roof. They hold a hundred gallons, and they are nearly empty now. I do not want to waste expensively processed tap water on it, this seems shocking, so perhaps if you all post me a bucket of water for my birthday in a few weeks that might be the thing. Thank you in advance.
We opened the doors to the house and the heat instantly drifted into everywhere else. We unpacked the camper van, eventually hauling Roger Poopy out from his hiding place under the bed at the very last minute before we left. He hates the holiday being over and always pretends not to be there. We shouted him and shouted him, and he pretended to be deaf, and only came out when there was no alternative left to him.
They have had a brilliant holiday. The reason we are late is that instead of getting up and setting off, punctually at the crack of dawn, we loitered and went for a long walk on the beach.
The crack of dawn is about two o’clock in the morning in Scotland in any case.
Just in case you are all feeling the heat in other parts of the UK, I can tell you here that Scotland still has snow on the tops of the hills. We saw it this morning.
We had a splendid walk. There were seals on a sandbar out in the bay, and the dogs belted up and down the sand, barking their heads off and rolling in everything horrible that they could find. I had some exciting adventures trying to clamber through sand dunes, which are hard work when you have got a tipsy ankle, and by the time we staggered back we were exhausted already.
You will be pleased to hear that we decided the cure for this would be to fortify ourselves against hunger and exhaustion, and ate the most colossal breakfast, of enormous bread rolls with cheese and home-made mayonnaise, three slices of bacon and two eggs each. Just to make sure we would not go hungry, after that we had coffee and a couple of bits of home-made fudge.
We went to the Himalayan Hippie Sale then, and bought a splendid smock. It is so large that we could both wear it at once, which is exactly how I like my clothes. I will have to cut the sleeves down, but that will not matter.
We were very, very tempted by a paper-mache elephant’s head, but refrained. It was painted blue and was wearing a sort of crown affair. If it is still there when we go back next we will perhaps think again.
After that we had no more excuses and had to set off.
I don’t suppose you need to hear about the eight-hour chug back down the motorway, but I am pleased to announce that it passed without a single misadventure, the camper van is surely beloved of the Gods. Yet again it has carried us on a seven hundred mile trip, plodding along patiently despite our endless neglect and abuse.
It is forty two years old now. That is a very lot for a van.
I think that takes me through to bedtime. Sleep well.
