The walk into Farnham late this afternoon was delightful. Lots of happy families in the adventure playground, many groups of people smiling and saying hello, sun out, beautifully green. It was a lovely swap for the traffic all the way home from Devon.
Honestly, the traffic was awful. And not the bit by Stonehenge either. In fact, after the clogged up lane convergence, the ancient stones sped by like never before.
No, the traffic snarls were everywhere and unavoidable.
I felt particularly sorry for the thousands of single lane cars trapped behind two weird trike things that appeared to have had an altercation with a van. It was at a particularly narrow stretch of road and the queue consisted of trucks, buses, caravans, the lot. And our lane was just as packed but, at least, it was moving.
Still, it had to be done and arriving home is always a joy. Especially when the first thing I do is go and collect the girls from Sue. They were rather keen to see me.
Then, of course, I had to go shopping.
But, for Devon, I have to say, while I really loved the isolation of the cottage, it did leave a lot to be desired. The damp was a problem, as was whatever insects decided to feast on me over the week. The latter was a surprise because, generally, I never get bitten by insects. I’ve always figured it was because of the high alcohol content in my blood. Clearly, the insects in Devon are all piss heads. At least, they are now.
We ran into the owner, almost literally, as we left and told her how much we’d enjoyed our stay before heading home. It occurs to me that, rather than the cottage, I’m really going to miss the excellent Dartmoor Inn.
In the meanwhilst, back in Farnham, I noticed that the only-historical-but-important-for-all-that stile has been attacked. I wonder if it will be fixed or just left to rot. I guess only time will tell.