The journey here was quite an ordeal, as two rows behind me in the plane was a two-year-old who managed to scream for eight out of the ten hours. I've known a good few angry children in my time, but this was like something out of The Exorcist. I was stuck between sleep-deprived righteous anger and a grudging respect for the effort involved. I made sure I got a look at this force of nature as I stepped off the flight, and she was three feet tall, blond with a turquoise hair clip, cuddling a fluffy purple kitten, and smiling. She'd just learnt that if you tantrum long enough you always get what you want.
Anyway, the UK has already offered up some choice occurrences. There are record high temperatures, the government has managed to manufacture a petrol crisis even though there is no crisis by telling people not to panic, and they're about to put a tax on the pasty, the British national dish.
Luckily I escaped the madness by heading straight to Hannah's parents in Dorset, who gave me a wonderful lunch to make up for the plane food, and a tour around their new house. It's in the process of renovation, and is going to be pretty amazing when it's finished. It has a fantastic back garden, perfect for a water slide for the grand kids, but that is not apparently part of the plans.
From there I got to Southampton to see Emily, where we decided to experience the news in real life by trying to buy petrol. From our sample of one petrol station, yes, people are panicking. And the real petrol strike isn't due until Easter Monday. Luckily my hire car is so small I think it might be clockwork.
Hannah's parents' new house!
They're going for the brutalist/minimalist look.
In the bathroom too.
The view from the top of the garden.
Emily has made sure I'm well-stocked for my trip.
Yep, looks like the news. (And, US readers, that price is in Great British Pounds, and per litre).
Emily is shocked that we finally got to the front.
I've got the gas! Quick! Drive!
