DIARY EXTRACTS
ON BEING OLD
1st March 2007
There has been no "Pinch punch, first of the month," from H today. Too preoccupied with her Mum's complaints about us going to Florida tomorrow, no doubt. ("What, again! How long for this time?")
On Sunday I promised I would drop round to see her before we left, which I do, of course, and I am, gazing through the patio window at the leafless trees swaying about in the wind against a low cloud backdrop, grey and rain threatening, when from behind me she says, "It's alright for some - going off to Florida!" It's an accusation.
"You could come out there, you know that." I say, trying to imagine it, failing.
There is a funny snorting sound. "Don't be so daft, boy. At my age. I'm nearly ninety, you know."
Nearly eightynine, actually, in December. She says it in a kind of boastful way - and yet on Sunday when I happened to mention she wasn't far off the big nine-oh, she got quite indignant.
"No, I'm not!" She said, sharply, "I'm only eighty-eight."
"Plenty of people your age..." I was going to say 'fly across the Atlantic' but I don't complete the sentence. We've been down here plenty of times before. She has never flown - never been out of the country as far as I know. Never will now, I guess.
I brought her some flowers, which pleased her. She fussed around putting them in water, made me tea, and gave me two slices of fruit cake.
"Your lawn needs a feed and weed," I said. looking at the large patches of moss.
"Huh! I'm not paying out for that. It can stay as it is."
She is still as sharp as a knife - especially when it comes to money. she knows the price of everything.
She does very well. Gets about her bungalow and potters in her garden without too much trouble. But she can't walk far. When she comes to the cottage we worry because of all the steps, and have to watch her each time she gets up to walk into the kitchen or another room.
I wonder what it's like being "nearly ninety." But to be honest, these days, I am wondering all the time what it is going to be like being seventy. Another few weeks and there I am. I can't get my head round it at all. I mean - seventy is old. Sixty is okay. Sixty is still active, film stars are sixty, (Cher is in her sixties, Michael Caine is in his sixties. Okay, not Michael Caine. DeNiro, he's in his sixties. And I'm in my sixties, so I don't feel old. In factI still feel fourty, and fourty was only ten years ago - wasn't it? It can't have been thirty years ago. Can it?
But in four weeks time, and this is the bit which seems sureal, I will be seventy.
Old.
"I want to ask you something," Doris says, serious voice.
I turn round, "Yes?"
"What's the matter with Heather's leg. Why is she limping so much?`'
Why indeed, I wish I knew. Nor does Heather. She is not in any pain - she just limps.
When I get home Heather's limping leg is still on my mind and I tell her she must go to see Dr Darcy. To my surprise she agrees. As soon as we get back from Circle Bay, she assures me.
CHAOTIC GATWICK
6th MARCH 2007
Gatwick was complete chaos on Friday. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of people corralled in queues, no room to move, everybody bad tempered. Security took away my contact lens cleaner because the plastic container was too tall - six inches high instead of less than five, or some such nonsense. I know it's for our own good, and I know I, of all people should know better than to moan, but, oh dear, flying is not what it used to be...
We were put into World Traveller Plus which was a plus. It's not what you know...
Arrived at Orlando on time and were walking into the apartment at Circle Bay by 7.30 p.m. Uneventful drive down the Turnpike. A beautiful moon appeared as the sun went down.
Yesterday we said 'Hello' to all the neighbours. Adele and Kevin invited us in - after lots of hugs - for a drink. They seem genuinely pleased to see us. Kevin is not looking so well.
BLOODY COMPUTERS
12th March 2007
Bloody bloody bleeding computers! Here we are, in Florida, relying on the laptop to keep the business at home running from here - and what happens? The bloody, bloody, bleeding things packs up. Chas, next door, gives me a 'phone number of a lady who can probably help. The lady comes round - Angie, New York accent, small, in her fifties I would guess, laughs a lot, talks to herself as she works. Eventually, after some hours, ten hours in fact on Friday, it is decided the hard drive is kuput. A new one is put in, then - no sound. Angie eventually leaves late Friday night, the lap top still silent. She is back Saturday morning with audio drivers, and, finally we have sound. $350.00 altogether. But we still haven't got our e-mail back.
I think I've been ripped off.
During all this H has painted the bathroom. One of the bathrooms I should say. Looks good.
I walked up to the office this morning and filled out a 'fault order' re the lack of e-mail. Someone will contact us.
Not by e-mail, though.
The phone rings this afternoon just after H decided to go to the hobby shop. It's Dennis Robinett, the Circle Bay computer man. Nice chap, very laid back. I remember meeting him last year when we had problems with the e-mail system then.
''What's the problem, Gerry?"
I explain. Within about 45 seconds it's all working again. Wrong password.
Bloody computers.
Lots of boats on the river today, more than usual that is. Maybe something is going on. It's very warm. 80 degrees or so, though it rained this morning. The sky went a strange oily colour and then it suddenly started pouring down. But it was all over in five minutes. Been quite sunny since.
Talked to Cyril on the phone - no Skype now, I will have to download it again - and he tells us Doug Edwards has written about the Big Build. (About time.) They are sending a construction engineer round to test the strength, depth, etc of the foundations at the back of the cottage. To ensure the whole thing won't collapse once it's up, presumably. The bill for this will be sent direct to us, it's not part of the contract we have with Doug. No indication of exactly how much, though. Or when.
Five more faulty DVDs back from Erik. Why doesn't all this super-duper modern tecnology, that's supposed to be making our lives so much easier, actually work? He's ordered another five, though, so there is always a bright side. That must be fourty or more we have sold, now.
We met Jim and Sharon for dinner at Ruby Tuesday's. They are fine. We are invited round next week for their grandaughter, Ariana's, fifth birthday party.
Bet that will be wild.
TV and MALLS
16th March 2007
Got up late. Very Late. Eleven a.m. or so. H was bustling around as usual.
"What does it matter?" She says, as I try to make out I feel guilty, "You're retired, relax."
Conscience now clear I sat out in the lanai to continue the book I am reading "The Chamber" by John Grisham.
It is very warm again, cotton wool clouds, blue sky. Later I rode on the bike up to the 'Hollywood' shop to take last nights DVD back and choose another one for tonight.
We have got into the habit of watching DVDs each night - the normal TV programmes are so awful. Adverts every ten minutes, mostly about illnesses which you probably didn't realise you had until you watched the advert - the cure for which you need a doctor's prescription, which costs a small fortune I'll bet, (and the "cure" has so many side-effects you would be crazy to buy it in the first place.) Some lousy 'comedy' shows; and the news programmes are so in-your-face-dramatic, with, Barbie Dolls, male and female presenting them, and, it seems, very little foreign news, that watching and trying to make sense of it all becomes tiresome. The worst is,'Fox News' which is so slanted politically (to the right, of course) that it becomes difficult to view without comment - which Heather hates - so, well, we don't. I guess I am too used to the calm tones and (apparent) un-bias of the BBC.
So, we don't know what is going on at home. I could tune the computer into the BBC but I haven't done yet. We assume nothing much is happening or Cyril would have told us. Blair hasn't resigned yet - that's for certain - we would have heard about that! He will hang on for as long as possible, no doubt, like they all do. Wouldn't surprise me if he is still there, spinning and smiling one week before the next Party Conference - which he said he would resign before.
On Wednesday evening H cooked at home again: Scollops. Really, really, good. Couple of glasses of wine, watched a DVD, bed.
Today we drove up to "The Treasure Coast Mall" at Jenson Beach, and went to the cinema again to see "Ground Hogs" with John Travolta. Very Funny. We both enjoyed. Afterwards we ate at the 'Ruby Tuesday's' there.
Before the cinema we split up and H wandered the shops and I went into 'Borders' to look at the books. It was pleasent walking through the Mall. As I strolled along it suddenly struck me how clean the place was. I started to look for rubbish on the floor, or spillages, or any kind of debris or dirt. Couldn't see any. The place was spotless.
Now then...
Why does the floor of the Mall in Crawley, West Sussex, always seem to be covered in bits of paper, empty coke tins, coned off spillages, and has a general air of neglect? Money is the answer, I suppose. They won't spend the amount of money they should spend to keep it clean because that would eat into the profits.
CITY PLACE
22nd March 2007
It seems we have got the induction DVD job. The construction management company in County Durham has been in touch and is arranging for me to meet someone at the site in Eastbourne next Monday. But he wants us to keep it below two thousand. Oh well, every little helps I suppose. And that reminds me - we have heard again from Doug regarding the Big Build. He has been in touch with a building firm that specialises in period property and asked them for a rough figure so we will have something to work on. And worry about.
It has been quite windy with the temperature down to the low seventies. On Wednesday we drove down to City Place. 'West Palm Beach's most exciting shopping area." It is an attractive area. Expensive shops, piazza's, restaurants, a theatre, pavement cafe's, and fountains. We split up and I browsed the books in Barnes and Noble, while H went off to spend in the expensive shops. After and hour or so we met up and decided to have a drink at Ilbellagio, an Italian style restaurant and bar with tables set up outside in front of some fountains - which we sat near.
Bad mistake.
We sat chatting and taking photo's, ordered a glass of wine. The sun came out and it became quite warm and pleasant. Then music started playing and the fountains began to leap and down and sway back and forth in time with it. It was very effective and we were quite entranced. Then a gust of wind swept across the square and through the fountains blowing most of the water over us. We were both soaked - well, no, I got wet - H got soaked. It seemed to afford some amusement to a few onlookers - but it didn't seem so funny to us at the time. The waiter brought out some towels for us to dry off, but it took quite a while for Hs tee shirt to dry out. A woman sitting near by came over and said in a strong New York accent. "Hey, I saw that - you should sue them, you should get a free meal off them. I tell ya - don't let them get away it. They got no business putting the tables near the fountains like that. Sue them."
We got $5 knocked off the bill.
SHOULDER TO SHOULDER
28th March 2007
Opposite the door of each apartment are flower boxes and in each of them is a small American flag - unlike us the Americans seem to fly their flag everywhere you look.
This morning the doorbell rang and Chuck and Laurie, our next door neighbours, are standing there. ''We bought you a gift," says Laurie. They are both smiling as they present us with a small Union Jack. Laurie points to the flower bed and says, "You should plant it there, next to our flag."
''Shoulder to shoulder, as Tony Blair would say," I laugh.
Al, who lives next to Kevin and Adele, came up and asks what we are doing.
""We are about to sing 'God Save The Queen' said H. ""We have just planted our flag."
Al grinned, came to attention and saluted.
"We'll take it in when we leave." I said,
"Like the Queen, when she leaves Buckingham Palace." said Chuck,
H has picked up another bug which had hay-fever type symptons at first but has now developed into a head cold. The soaking a† Ci†y Place won't have helped - if it turns into pneumonia we'll sue...
Heather tells me, in between sneezes and snuffles and through the permanent filxture of her handkerchief, that Al is "Around 84." God! There's hope yet! `He doesn't look, or sound, much over 70. Amazing. I wonder how old his wife, Betty, is. She looks to be in her mid sixties but...
CANADIANS ARE INFERIOR
29TH March 2007
Chuck and Laurie have gone north for a week or so to 'baby sit' for their son and daughter-in-law, so we won't see them again before we leave.
This week Adele and Kevin have organised the decoration of the building for Easter. One of the trees hanging with plastic eggs which are filled with money for the kids, (a horde of which are set to invade the place over the holiday.) Large 'Bunnies' sitting around and various other Easter decorations. We never seem to be around when all this work is done - it is even more elaborate at Christmas time, with strings of lights, decorative plaques, sledge, reindeers and Father Christmas.
Jim rang - could we meet for dinner before we leave? But with only two nights left we couldn't fix it.
On Thursday evenings some of the buildings have a get-together on the deck at the Club House. Lots of gossip, cooking on the bar-b-cue, b.y.o. booze, and the good thing since this is Florida is that it is rare for the weather to put a stop to proceedings. This is our last night (22nd March) and as Hs head cold is now at its peak - well, I hope it is, I can't beleve it could get worse - and she is definately not in a socialising mood, she urged me to go up on my own, so I grabbed a bottle of wine and walked up to the deck .
I got talking to a Canadian couple, Bill and Joan, (late fifties, early sixties?) We discussed the war in Iraq and Blair's Weapons Of Mass Destuction ( highly cynical about both) and then we moved on to the subject of being Canadian. Joan made me laugh as she described how, as they met new people on their travels, most would assume they were American, but as the realisation dawns that they are actually Canadian "You can see the disapointment on their faces. As if we are nearly there, but not quite."
BACK TO THE UK
4TH APRIL 2007
We left Circle Bay at 1.30pm and drove to Orlando International via Florida's Turnpike. Two hours. It must be the most boring journey on earth. After Fort Pierce is left behind the countryside becomes just stumpy and straggly looking trees, the occasional bridge over long featurless canals and, to relieve †he boredom, large wooden advertising hoardings telling us "Avoid the lines at Disney! Great Deals at Heehaw Junction!" And "Only 35 minutes to Heehaw Junction!"
Dropping the car off takes all of 20 seconds and we are checked in quickly. We are put in the back with the rest of the cattle, but we can't complain, we don't do too bad on our journeys with BA.
It takes nearly ten minutes to walk from the gate to the Immigrations Hall at Gatwick, and this is via long corridors, a great big bridge, and then more long corridors with travelators that are not doing any travelling. After Orlando International the place looks tatty and cheap - or maybe it's just me, tired and not so glad to be back in England. It looks cold out there. Long queues at the immigration controls. No "Welcome to the U.K. sir!" `(in contrast to the "Welcome to Orlando - have a good vacation!" of a few weeks ago.) Just a "Next!" a quck glance at our passports and a nod of the head "Alright."
We are home.
ON BEING OLD
1st March 2007
There has been no "Pinch punch, first of the month," from H today. Too preoccupied with her Mum's complaints about us going to Florida tomorrow, no doubt. ("What, again! How long for this time?")
On Sunday I promised I would drop round to see her before we left, which I do, of course, and I am, gazing through the patio window at the leafless trees swaying about in the wind against a low cloud backdrop, grey and rain threatening, when from behind me she says, "It's alright for some - going off to Florida!" It's an accusation.
"You could come out there, you know that." I say, trying to imagine it, failing.
There is a funny snorting sound. "Don't be so daft, boy. At my age. I'm nearly ninety, you know."
Nearly eightynine, actually, in December. She says it in a kind of boastful way - and yet on Sunday when I happened to mention she wasn't far off the big nine-oh, she got quite indignant.
"No, I'm not!" She said, sharply, "I'm only eighty-eight."
"Plenty of people your age..." I was going to say 'fly across the Atlantic' but I don't complete the sentence. We've been down here plenty of times before. She has never flown - never been out of the country as far as I know. Never will now, I guess.
I brought her some flowers, which pleased her. She fussed around putting them in water, made me tea, and gave me two slices of fruit cake.
"Your lawn needs a feed and weed," I said. looking at the large patches of moss.
"Huh! I'm not paying out for that. It can stay as it is."
She is still as sharp as a knife - especially when it comes to money. she knows the price of everything.
She does very well. Gets about her bungalow and potters in her garden without too much trouble. But she can't walk far. When she comes to the cottage we worry because of all the steps, and have to watch her each time she gets up to walk into the kitchen or another room.
I wonder what it's like being "nearly ninety." But to be honest, these days, I am wondering all the time what it is going to be like being seventy. Another few weeks and there I am. I can't get my head round it at all. I mean - seventy is old. Sixty is okay. Sixty is still active, film stars are sixty, (Cher is in her sixties, Michael Caine is in his sixties. Okay, not Michael Caine. DeNiro, he's in his sixties. And I'm in my sixties, so I don't feel old. In factI still feel fourty, and fourty was only ten years ago - wasn't it? It can't have been thirty years ago. Can it?
But in four weeks time, and this is the bit which seems sureal, I will be seventy.
Old.
"I want to ask you something," Doris says, serious voice.
I turn round, "Yes?"
"What's the matter with Heather's leg. Why is she limping so much?`'
Why indeed, I wish I knew. Nor does Heather. She is not in any pain - she just limps.
When I get home Heather's limping leg is still on my mind and I tell her she must go to see Dr Darcy. To my surprise she agrees. As soon as we get back from Circle Bay, she assures me.
CHAOTIC GATWICK
6th MARCH 2007
Gatwick was complete chaos on Friday. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of people corralled in queues, no room to move, everybody bad tempered. Security took away my contact lens cleaner because the plastic container was too tall - six inches high instead of less than five, or some such nonsense. I know it's for our own good, and I know I, of all people should know better than to moan, but, oh dear, flying is not what it used to be...
We were put into World Traveller Plus which was a plus. It's not what you know...
Arrived at Orlando on time and were walking into the apartment at Circle Bay by 7.30 p.m. Uneventful drive down the Turnpike. A beautiful moon appeared as the sun went down.
Yesterday we said 'Hello' to all the neighbours. Adele and Kevin invited us in - after lots of hugs - for a drink. They seem genuinely pleased to see us. Kevin is not looking so well.
BLOODY COMPUTERS
12th March 2007
Bloody bloody bleeding computers! Here we are, in Florida, relying on the laptop to keep the business at home running from here - and what happens? The bloody, bloody, bleeding things packs up. Chas, next door, gives me a 'phone number of a lady who can probably help. The lady comes round - Angie, New York accent, small, in her fifties I would guess, laughs a lot, talks to herself as she works. Eventually, after some hours, ten hours in fact on Friday, it is decided the hard drive is kuput. A new one is put in, then - no sound. Angie eventually leaves late Friday night, the lap top still silent. She is back Saturday morning with audio drivers, and, finally we have sound. $350.00 altogether. But we still haven't got our e-mail back.
I think I've been ripped off.
During all this H has painted the bathroom. One of the bathrooms I should say. Looks good.
I walked up to the office this morning and filled out a 'fault order' re the lack of e-mail. Someone will contact us.
Not by e-mail, though.
The phone rings this afternoon just after H decided to go to the hobby shop. It's Dennis Robinett, the Circle Bay computer man. Nice chap, very laid back. I remember meeting him last year when we had problems with the e-mail system then.
''What's the problem, Gerry?"
I explain. Within about 45 seconds it's all working again. Wrong password.
Bloody computers.
Lots of boats on the river today, more than usual that is. Maybe something is going on. It's very warm. 80 degrees or so, though it rained this morning. The sky went a strange oily colour and then it suddenly started pouring down. But it was all over in five minutes. Been quite sunny since.
Talked to Cyril on the phone - no Skype now, I will have to download it again - and he tells us Doug Edwards has written about the Big Build. (About time.) They are sending a construction engineer round to test the strength, depth, etc of the foundations at the back of the cottage. To ensure the whole thing won't collapse once it's up, presumably. The bill for this will be sent direct to us, it's not part of the contract we have with Doug. No indication of exactly how much, though. Or when.
Five more faulty DVDs back from Erik. Why doesn't all this super-duper modern tecnology, that's supposed to be making our lives so much easier, actually work? He's ordered another five, though, so there is always a bright side. That must be fourty or more we have sold, now.
We met Jim and Sharon for dinner at Ruby Tuesday's. They are fine. We are invited round next week for their grandaughter, Ariana's, fifth birthday party.
Bet that will be wild.
TV and MALLS
16th March 2007
Got up late. Very Late. Eleven a.m. or so. H was bustling around as usual.
"What does it matter?" She says, as I try to make out I feel guilty, "You're retired, relax."
Conscience now clear I sat out in the lanai to continue the book I am reading "The Chamber" by John Grisham.
It is very warm again, cotton wool clouds, blue sky. Later I rode on the bike up to the 'Hollywood' shop to take last nights DVD back and choose another one for tonight.
We have got into the habit of watching DVDs each night - the normal TV programmes are so awful. Adverts every ten minutes, mostly about illnesses which you probably didn't realise you had until you watched the advert - the cure for which you need a doctor's prescription, which costs a small fortune I'll bet, (and the "cure" has so many side-effects you would be crazy to buy it in the first place.) Some lousy 'comedy' shows; and the news programmes are so in-your-face-dramatic, with, Barbie Dolls, male and female presenting them, and, it seems, very little foreign news, that watching and trying to make sense of it all becomes tiresome. The worst is,'Fox News' which is so slanted politically (to the right, of course) that it becomes difficult to view without comment - which Heather hates - so, well, we don't. I guess I am too used to the calm tones and (apparent) un-bias of the BBC.
So, we don't know what is going on at home. I could tune the computer into the BBC but I haven't done yet. We assume nothing much is happening or Cyril would have told us. Blair hasn't resigned yet - that's for certain - we would have heard about that! He will hang on for as long as possible, no doubt, like they all do. Wouldn't surprise me if he is still there, spinning and smiling one week before the next Party Conference - which he said he would resign before.
On Wednesday evening H cooked at home again: Scollops. Really, really, good. Couple of glasses of wine, watched a DVD, bed.
Today we drove up to "The Treasure Coast Mall" at Jenson Beach, and went to the cinema again to see "Ground Hogs" with John Travolta. Very Funny. We both enjoyed. Afterwards we ate at the 'Ruby Tuesday's' there.
Before the cinema we split up and H wandered the shops and I went into 'Borders' to look at the books. It was pleasent walking through the Mall. As I strolled along it suddenly struck me how clean the place was. I started to look for rubbish on the floor, or spillages, or any kind of debris or dirt. Couldn't see any. The place was spotless.
Now then...
Why does the floor of the Mall in Crawley, West Sussex, always seem to be covered in bits of paper, empty coke tins, coned off spillages, and has a general air of neglect? Money is the answer, I suppose. They won't spend the amount of money they should spend to keep it clean because that would eat into the profits.
CITY PLACE
22nd March 2007
It seems we have got the induction DVD job. The construction management company in County Durham has been in touch and is arranging for me to meet someone at the site in Eastbourne next Monday. But he wants us to keep it below two thousand. Oh well, every little helps I suppose. And that reminds me - we have heard again from Doug regarding the Big Build. He has been in touch with a building firm that specialises in period property and asked them for a rough figure so we will have something to work on. And worry about.
It has been quite windy with the temperature down to the low seventies. On Wednesday we drove down to City Place. 'West Palm Beach's most exciting shopping area." It is an attractive area. Expensive shops, piazza's, restaurants, a theatre, pavement cafe's, and fountains. We split up and I browsed the books in Barnes and Noble, while H went off to spend in the expensive shops. After and hour or so we met up and decided to have a drink at Ilbellagio, an Italian style restaurant and bar with tables set up outside in front of some fountains - which we sat near.
Bad mistake.
We sat chatting and taking photo's, ordered a glass of wine. The sun came out and it became quite warm and pleasant. Then music started playing and the fountains began to leap and down and sway back and forth in time with it. It was very effective and we were quite entranced. Then a gust of wind swept across the square and through the fountains blowing most of the water over us. We were both soaked - well, no, I got wet - H got soaked. It seemed to afford some amusement to a few onlookers - but it didn't seem so funny to us at the time. The waiter brought out some towels for us to dry off, but it took quite a while for Hs tee shirt to dry out. A woman sitting near by came over and said in a strong New York accent. "Hey, I saw that - you should sue them, you should get a free meal off them. I tell ya - don't let them get away it. They got no business putting the tables near the fountains like that. Sue them."
We got $5 knocked off the bill.
SHOULDER TO SHOULDER
28th March 2007
Opposite the door of each apartment are flower boxes and in each of them is a small American flag - unlike us the Americans seem to fly their flag everywhere you look.
This morning the doorbell rang and Chuck and Laurie, our next door neighbours, are standing there. ''We bought you a gift," says Laurie. They are both smiling as they present us with a small Union Jack. Laurie points to the flower bed and says, "You should plant it there, next to our flag."
''Shoulder to shoulder, as Tony Blair would say," I laugh.
Al, who lives next to Kevin and Adele, came up and asks what we are doing.
""We are about to sing 'God Save The Queen' said H. ""We have just planted our flag."
Al grinned, came to attention and saluted.
"We'll take it in when we leave." I said,
"Like the Queen, when she leaves Buckingham Palace." said Chuck,
H has picked up another bug which had hay-fever type symptons at first but has now developed into a head cold. The soaking a† Ci†y Place won't have helped - if it turns into pneumonia we'll sue...
Heather tells me, in between sneezes and snuffles and through the permanent filxture of her handkerchief, that Al is "Around 84." God! There's hope yet! `He doesn't look, or sound, much over 70. Amazing. I wonder how old his wife, Betty, is. She looks to be in her mid sixties but...
CANADIANS ARE INFERIOR
29TH March 2007
Chuck and Laurie have gone north for a week or so to 'baby sit' for their son and daughter-in-law, so we won't see them again before we leave.
This week Adele and Kevin have organised the decoration of the building for Easter. One of the trees hanging with plastic eggs which are filled with money for the kids, (a horde of which are set to invade the place over the holiday.) Large 'Bunnies' sitting around and various other Easter decorations. We never seem to be around when all this work is done - it is even more elaborate at Christmas time, with strings of lights, decorative plaques, sledge, reindeers and Father Christmas.
Jim rang - could we meet for dinner before we leave? But with only two nights left we couldn't fix it.
On Thursday evenings some of the buildings have a get-together on the deck at the Club House. Lots of gossip, cooking on the bar-b-cue, b.y.o. booze, and the good thing since this is Florida is that it is rare for the weather to put a stop to proceedings. This is our last night (22nd March) and as Hs head cold is now at its peak - well, I hope it is, I can't beleve it could get worse - and she is definately not in a socialising mood, she urged me to go up on my own, so I grabbed a bottle of wine and walked up to the deck .
I got talking to a Canadian couple, Bill and Joan, (late fifties, early sixties?) We discussed the war in Iraq and Blair's Weapons Of Mass Destuction ( highly cynical about both) and then we moved on to the subject of being Canadian. Joan made me laugh as she described how, as they met new people on their travels, most would assume they were American, but as the realisation dawns that they are actually Canadian "You can see the disapointment on their faces. As if we are nearly there, but not quite."
BACK TO THE UK
4TH APRIL 2007
We left Circle Bay at 1.30pm and drove to Orlando International via Florida's Turnpike. Two hours. It must be the most boring journey on earth. After Fort Pierce is left behind the countryside becomes just stumpy and straggly looking trees, the occasional bridge over long featurless canals and, to relieve †he boredom, large wooden advertising hoardings telling us "Avoid the lines at Disney! Great Deals at Heehaw Junction!" And "Only 35 minutes to Heehaw Junction!"
Dropping the car off takes all of 20 seconds and we are checked in quickly. We are put in the back with the rest of the cattle, but we can't complain, we don't do too bad on our journeys with BA.
It takes nearly ten minutes to walk from the gate to the Immigrations Hall at Gatwick, and this is via long corridors, a great big bridge, and then more long corridors with travelators that are not doing any travelling. After Orlando International the place looks tatty and cheap - or maybe it's just me, tired and not so glad to be back in England. It looks cold out there. Long queues at the immigration controls. No "Welcome to the U.K. sir!" `(in contrast to the "Welcome to Orlando - have a good vacation!" of a few weeks ago.) Just a "Next!" a quck glance at our passports and a nod of the head "Alright."
We are home.
