Henley Mansions and Farewell Wifey

So after a final night in Colchester we bade farewell to Clan James and with a cheery wave and a final Thuggernaut Kiss off we went to Dad and Shirley's place in sunny Ipswich, where we spent a pleasant evening before Nicole departed for whatever mysterious Teutonic work-related delights lay ahead of her in probably sunny Deutschland.

And that was our activity for the next day, getting young Nicole to Stansted Airport. With Lyra in tow (not actually literally, as we didn't ask for a tow bar on our rental Ford Faff) we toddled off to the Airport without a clear idea of where we were going and though we allowed plenty of time to get there we arrived surprisingly in plenty of time only to find ourselves in the bizarre situation of having to pay actual cash money to drop Nicole off at the passenger terminal.

In sheer disgust we decided to laugh in the faces of the authorities and stage an on-spec al-fresco dismount manoeuvre whereby Nicole de-carred by the side of the road and lugged her buggage across the car park. And that was the last we saw of her. No teary farewells, very business-like. Efficient even.

Needless to say Lyra soon fell asleep and I took the cross-country route back to Henley Mansions, intermittently swapping messages with Grandparents who were at Colchester Castle with Eloise showing her a good time in the museum where, according to the photographs taken, several costumes were attempted and a computerised chariot was driven.