Anyway. In what might be a first we actually caught a train into the city to go to the book festival. We end up doing these sorts of things when I'm the one having the ideas, although Eloise was very keen as books are right up her alley at the moment.
The train was easy squeezy and cheap and clean! Probably even cheaper than driving and parking down on South Bank and the train went straight there. And trains with children, how could that not be fun? Oh... when one of the children can't sit still and climbs over everything and runs up and down the carriage and molests fellow travelers, that's how.
The Book Festival was fun, in a sort of poring over endless, and I mean endless, rows of books, kind of way. We bought lots of books. Lots. Of. Books. Bagsful. Bagfuls?
I put my back out lifting them into the car.
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