June 6th, 2009
Well, being born in Devon, YOU HAVE TO FACE THE INEVITABLE: All My Family Are Pirates! This is something that predated the fame of Johnny Depp as Jack Sparrow, and harkens back to the days of Errol Flynn, and quite possibly, even Robert Louis Stevenson. It’s the accent that gives them away. And the fact that without rum, Pirates would just be Sailors. But perhaps I should bring you up to date on why I would mention this.
I had considered hitchhiking up to London from Exeter, but the coach fare is only £22 (with tax). And it’s my last day in England so I can spend everything I have except the Underground fare to Ian’s and from Ian’s to Heathrow tomorrow. I said my goodbbyes to Martha. Harry wasn’t up yet, and I thought about going in to say goodbye, but decided against it. I walked up to High Street from St. Thomas in time to catch the 10:45 to London, but it was full so I booked a seat on the 12:30 bus. Barbara came to the station to say goodbye which was a pleasant surprise, and to make it even better Lorna and Lindsey showed up as well. They hadn’t planned on it, but they saw my Highlander sword thropugh the crowd and knew it had to be me. That was great!
The bus ride was insignificant other than when I got hot, I pointed the vents at myself and opened the valve to coo.l off the rude Polish girl beside me snapped it off right away, and in one breath said she was cold and if I was hot I should move to another seat. This, despitye the fact that the bus was full and there were no other seats. I had bought a ticket for Victoria Station, but realizing that the bus stopped at Heathrow, I got off tere and took the Underground to Richmond. For some reason, I passed the stop at Talbot Road on the Hounslow bus and had to walk back a fair way to Ian’s house.
Still I arrived and had enough time to get into my pajamas I had bought in Ethiopia (which coincidentally were not really pajamas in hot countries and look exactly like a pirate costume). I wrapped my head in one of the scarfs I had bought earlier in Exeter ( 2 for £5) and wrapped the other one around my waist. Adding my Highander sword, an Eye patch that Kim had given me with a stick on moustache. Et voila! Je suis un Pirate! Of course, not a French Pirate...
The party was terrific and I danced with Donna from Boston (Not really living in Boston, from Boston. She’s a relationship counsellor, so maybe that’s also why she’s such a great dancing partner). Turns out we were well matched dancing partnerrs, and I drank a lot. I don't know if the two go together, but they seem to. Which breaks my rule of not drinking the day before I fly in an airplane. But then, as I said, I come from a family of Pirates.
5th 0f July, 2009
I am now travelling back in time. On the 5th, I visited my god mother Eileen in Exmouth and we had a great visit and toured about Exmouth, visiting the beach front, my old and first school Exmouth Primary Church School. It hasn’t changed at all! In more than 50 years! I also stopped by the church where Mum and Dad were married, I was christened, and my Gran took me for my first communion!. I have to tell you I remember it vividly as I was afraid theat God would strike me dead because I didn’t believe in him. I can’t even tell you how tense I was, expecting to be struck dead before the altar in fron of the priest and the rest of the congregation, and the absolute amazement when nothing happened. It wasn’t until I was older that it actually was a confimation that there may not BE a god. At least not the one in the Bible that smites his enemies and turns them to salt.
Still, I digress. But by now you’re probably used to that by now!