Blowing in to Dorset and going down a storm
As the clocks went back, so did we.
A wild old ferry crossing was predicted as we headed across the English Channel back to my beloved Dorset after twelve, adventure-filled months in Corfu.
I felt like Odysseus. Would our friends in Lush Places be held captive by new 'suitors' eating them out of house and home? Would Mr Grigg lash himself to the mast as he listened to the Sirens' song?
Would we have to go through various tasks before being accepted as the rightful heirs to our home?
No Scylla or Charybdis crossed our paths on the journey home from Corfu. No cyclops outwitted us, no witches turned those close to us into pigs, although on Calypso's Isle we were tempted to stay for more than just a year.
This time, it was an interesting, but, thankfully, uneventful trip home.
We stopped in Italy outside Faenza...
And then we came home to a hurricane, lucky to be on the last ship out of Ouistreham. We rocked and we rolled, we passed the time with on-board quizzes and tried desperately to connect to the internet.
From Portsmouth to Dorset, there was rain, surface water and cars driving too fast and cats eyes glimmering too low.
And then we got home. In the dark, we didn't appreciate this. (For A Year in Lush Places readers, note the ginger wig hanging from the hanging basket bracket).
And as Champagne Charlie escorted us into the house to investigate the Aga which had blown out, we walked in through the door to find a host of fairy lights, delightful homemade decorations and friends jumping out saying 'Surprise!'.
What a homecoming.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
A wild old ferry crossing was predicted as we headed across the English Channel back to my beloved Dorset after twelve, adventure-filled months in Corfu.
I felt like Odysseus. Would our friends in Lush Places be held captive by new 'suitors' eating them out of house and home? Would Mr Grigg lash himself to the mast as he listened to the Sirens' song?
Would we have to go through various tasks before being accepted as the rightful heirs to our home?
No Scylla or Charybdis crossed our paths on the journey home from Corfu. No cyclops outwitted us, no witches turned those close to us into pigs, although on Calypso's Isle we were tempted to stay for more than just a year.
This time, it was an interesting, but, thankfully, uneventful trip home.
We stopped in Italy outside Faenza...
In the Italian Alps...
In France...
At an old school friend's...
And not far from the ferry...
From Portsmouth to Dorset, there was rain, surface water and cars driving too fast and cats eyes glimmering too low.
And then we got home. In the dark, we didn't appreciate this. (For A Year in Lush Places readers, note the ginger wig hanging from the hanging basket bracket).
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
Glad you are home safe and sound and wecomed no less by loving friends. I read about the hurricane this morning and hoped that you had traveled back unscathed. Thanks for sharing your adventures Maddie!
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