Well, I was feeling a bit rough as we headed out for dinner on Monday night and, while it didn’t really spoil my enjoyment of the evening, it did curtail it somewhat. Dinner was pleasant, if humid, and afterwards we headed to The Piano bar where they have a singer regularly performing. With a beer in hand, we all sang along when he played ‘Seasons of Love’ from the Rent DVD before his set. It’s one of the Chorus’ signature tunes so we all know it well. It seemed to go down well with the locals… As the bar got more crowded though it became harder to chat and as I sank deeper and deeper into my seat I began to think how comfy my bed would be, so we bade the others goodnight and took a gentle stroll back to the hotel.
Tuesday morning, we breakfasted said farewell again to John and Rich and headed off to the airport in a taxi with PK and his partner Ken. Having allowed plenty of time to negotiate queues for security, we arrived to find that there weren't any. Nobody even challenged us as we carried our water bottle through. I guess nothing was flying from
After having been left with plenty of time on our hands in the airport, the flight was delayed by about twenty minutes but was otherwise mundane. We arrived back in the UK to what the weather men term ‘sunshine and showers’; we left a sunny Gatwick to drive through torrential rain over South London to arrive in sunny Wimbledon shortly thereafter. Once home, cases were ignored and sofas were sat on.
Wednesday was back to work.
I had spoken to Sid, my boss, on Tuesday afternoon and got an idea of what to expect but it was still like being run over by an express train; several problems had all kicked-off over the long weekend and he had had a bitch of a day Tuesday trying to get everything running again. On Wednesday it was his turn to be on holiday so, with Rav away in
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