The end of my Honeymoon
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The end of my honeymoon? Not before a long 36 hours!
This morning we paid and left Moness resort, leaving our snow folk (snowman and snow woman) leaning towards each other as the temperature rises they are collapsing into each other’s arms, a bit like this morning with my new wifee, Sheila Gibbons, who at last is less pain free, and was feeling ready for my amorous attention.
Yesterday was a walk by the tumbling river then the Dewars Whisky distillery tour before an Italian meal cooked by a well established Nepalese chef in Aberfeldy.
This morning was an amazing drive through snow covered mountains, the M6 motorway and a total of 485 miles.
A full Scottish breakfast in Perth and 200mg of Modafinil (what keeps fighter pilots, politicians and half the city of London - smart drugs, coke for the brain, awake). Sheila drove for 3 hours, snow, sleet, trucks and scarybits. Wow she is fab.
I took over at 4pm, the Lake District was amazing as the sheep seemed dark against the white snow. The Manchester rush hour was my first challenge, I saw M61, Blackpool pleasure beach and the rest begging me to stop. Have you been to Blackpool? I have! Then Manchester appears twice, M61 to the north and M62 south and Liverpool in between. Torrential rain covering an entire motorway, cruising at 70mph, made me appreciate the modafinil, I get it. South of Manchester and quiet. I’m driving at 90 mph in middle lane with odd idiots swerving undertaking then overtaking (Sheila’s just confessed to doing it on her 30’s) and Stoke on Trent appeared. I went to Stoke once. It’s tiny, 5 Towns, Hanley and the rest (I thought Mark Hughes was a good manager) and next its Wolverhampton (their civic hall is an Art Deco masterpiece). Birmingham awaits with it’s elevated bit of M5 motorway crumbling and down to a single lane at 30miles per hour whilst loads of orange clad Eastern Europeans, Indians, and many other nationalities working to get this road back on its own feet. Phew. M42 to the left and down towards Bristol. The biggest issue was where to eat and next to stop. Colin, modafinal fuelled was determined not to turn off before Taunton.
So it was 6 hours solid with only a pee (sugar in the form of a Chocolate Nancy from an amazing M6 organic-even, farmer selling Beef, Lamb and the rest at Tebay Services). I make onto M5 and plan a last night of honeymoon in Glastonbury only to find ‘Road Closed’ on leaving motorway.
Home safe and sound and I can’t believe the presents, charity donations, fruit trees and other amazing bits from our wedding. I am truly blessed.
My mum and dad stayed here so it’s clean as a whistle and wow... all my Jack Herer cuttings are thriving and happy.
Here’s to our next phase, gardening and the rest.
The end of my honeymoon? Not before a long 36 hours!
This morning we paid and left Moness resort, leaving our snow folk (snowman and snow woman) leaning towards each other as the temperature rises they are collapsing into each other’s arms, a bit like this morning with my new wifee, Sheila Gibbons, who at last is less pain free, and was feeling ready for my amorous attention.
Yesterday was a walk by the tumbling river then the Dewars Whisky distillery tour before an Italian meal cooked by a well established Nepalese chef in Aberfeldy.
This morning was an amazing drive through snow covered mountains, the M6 motorway and a total of 485 miles.
A full Scottish breakfast in Perth and 200mg of Modafinil (what keeps fighter pilots, politicians and half the city of London - smart drugs, coke for the brain, awake). Sheila drove for 3 hours, snow, sleet, trucks and scarybits. Wow she is fab.
I took over at 4pm, the Lake District was amazing as the sheep seemed dark against the white snow. The Manchester rush hour was my first challenge, I saw M61, Blackpool pleasure beach and the rest begging me to stop. Have you been to Blackpool? I have! Then Manchester appears twice, M61 to the north and M62 south and Liverpool in between. Torrential rain covering an entire motorway, cruising at 70mph, made me appreciate the modafinil, I get it. South of Manchester and quiet. I’m driving at 90 mph in middle lane with odd idiots swerving undertaking then overtaking (Sheila’s just confessed to doing it on her 30’s) and Stoke on Trent appeared. I went to Stoke once. It’s tiny, 5 Towns, Hanley and the rest (I thought Mark Hughes was a good manager) and next its Wolverhampton (their civic hall is an Art Deco masterpiece). Birmingham awaits with it’s elevated bit of M5 motorway crumbling and down to a single lane at 30miles per hour whilst loads of orange clad Eastern Europeans, Indians, and many other nationalities working to get this road back on its own feet. Phew. M42 to the left and down towards Bristol. The biggest issue was where to eat and next to stop. Colin, modafinal fuelled was determined not to turn off before Taunton.
So it was 6 hours solid with only a pee (sugar in the form of a Chocolate Nancy from an amazing M6 organic-even, farmer selling Beef, Lamb and the rest at Tebay Services). I make onto M5 and plan a last night of honeymoon in Glastonbury only to find ‘Road Closed’ on leaving motorway.
Home safe and sound and I can’t believe the presents, charity donations, fruit trees and other amazing bits from our wedding. I am truly blessed.
My mum and dad stayed here so it’s clean as a whistle and wow... all my Jack Herer cuttings are thriving and happy.
Here’s to our next phase, gardening and the rest.
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