Fly Away

The next day was almost our last, or maybe it was.

The upshot is that we went back to Mum's place after Gamlingay whence to Boreham to return the kindly lent car thence to Heathrow to end our English sojourn and return to warmer climes.

And that was the end of that.

The flight passed uneventually. Eloise was as good as a good thing. The excellent in-flight entertainment kept her amused as she watched the same stupid TV programme about four hundred times.

I slipped my mind into neutral and watched a silly film about the Baader-Meinhof gang, amongst other things, none of which I remember now.

The stopover at Singapore was short and sweet, with time for a coffe and a visit to the butterfly garden.

Eloise slept all the way from Singapore to Brisbane. Wish we could say the same.

And for all that a return to waking up at 4am for no apparent reason and the joys of reverse-jet lag.

Though the trees have been removed properly now and their chippings are mulching the garden now with a nice blonde covering, which is nice.