Okay, so......
I woke up at the unreasonably early hour of 9am on Thursday morning, to be on the road shortly before 10. Four hours and something like 250 miles later, and bang on schedule (8)), I arrived at Heathrow. And it looked like rushlight's flight was already landed (yay! Last time she came, her flight was 4 hours late), so I stood and waited....
and waited.....
And eventually, out she came (yay!). Towing a single suitcase. I had tried very hard to persuade her to reduce the amount of luggage she was planning to bring (with only two hands, two bags seems to me to be a reasonable maximum number), but one case was still less than I was expecting. Just as I was about to ask, she explained: the other bag had gone missing during (yes,
during) one of the flights. It had been hand-luggage, but due to the previous flight arriving at Minneapolis late she'd been the last passenger to board the second plane, and so there hadn't been room for it in the luggage compartment above her seat. So, she'd had to stow it in a different compartment - and when the plane landed at Schipol, the bag was gone. The staff to whom she enquired weren't very helpful, and their "best" advice was for her to catch her third flight and then look for her missing bag at Heathrow.
Needless to say, it wasn't there. (Since it had quite obviously been taken by another passenger, how could it have found its way to the baggage-collection area of a different airport?!?!?)
So my baby was upset about that. She'd lost her camera, two or 3 pairs of shoes, several DVDs, her mother's walkman, some gifts she'd bought for my family, and sundry other items.
She'd already gven the airline people my address and phone number, so we left and I drove us to Bristol. We overshot the entrance to the hotel's car-park, and ended up in one of the city-centre's main car-parks. But that turned out OK because it gave us the perfect opportunity to wander around that part of the city and to find somewhere to eat.
The next day, I wasn't feeling too good, so rushlight insisted that I rest. I had planned to go to neighbouring Bath, and to visit some of the Bristol's landmarks later in the day. But because I was feeling unwell we missed Bath. (With hindsight, we couldn't have done both cities in the one day in any case.) By noon I felt a bit better, and we went for a walk to find some lunch. Then we wandered up the hill to take a look at the cathedral, and then further uphill to Clifton Suspension Bridge. Along the way we found a shop or two and replaced some of her lost Stuff. Then we walked up to Clifton Down, a large open park area with views down the Avon Gorge to the Severn estuary. Then I realised that Bristol would be the best place for 'light to get new shoes, so I steered us back towards the city centre, via all the shopping areas I could think of. None of them sold shoes. Eventually, we found ourselves near the hotel, and stopped at a nice little Italian restaruant for dinner.
Then, yesterday, we headed for home. Via Cheddar Gorge, Wells and Glastonbury. But the car was sick. It would cough and splutter and jerk whenever I tried to accelerate. We drove down the stunning Cheddar Gorge, pretended not to notice the horribly touristified Cheddar village, and cruised gently to Wells. There we had a look at the cathedral, with its famous west wall, and found a little tea-room for lunch. We also came across a shoe-shop where 'light found a nice pair of shoes to replace one of the lost pairs. Next stop, Glastonbury. After all the walking the day before, neither of us felt like climbing the Tor, but we had a pleasant wander around the ruins of the Abbey, where King Arthur and Guinevere are buried.
Then we headed for the motorway, with the car spluttering and misfiring all the way. Just after we crossed the Severn, a little light on the dashboard came on. I pulled the car over to the hard shoulder and 'phoned home to ask my father if he knew what the light might mean, and what I could do about it. Since the car was brand new, with only 93 miles on the clock when I'd left home on Thursday morning, it shouldn't have been misbehaving. He told me where to find the number to call for breakdown-recovery. Which I did, to be told that help should arrive within half an hour.
A little over an hour later, it arrived. He towed us to a nearby motorway service station, and had a poke around. Presently, he told us that the problem appeared to be a cracked spark-plug. And that he didn't have a replacement amongst the Stuff in his van. So he wrapped a few turns of insulating tape aroud the plug, and assured us that it would last for the 130-odd miles home.
To my surprise, it did.
Then, today, my grandmother and her sister came to visit, because it's my father's birthday tomorrow. They took us all out to dinner.
and that's about it.
Hello my fellow By-toreans. My trip is getting closer. I depart for Wales on October 13. I'm getting excited and nervous. 
I'm preparing my things already and I got vacation from my job. D.A is counting down the hours. What I will hate is going on 3 airplanes. Ugh! What a pain that will be. 
Wish me a safe journey guys. 3 days and counting! 
It has been tough prepping for my trip. Everything is packed. D.A. will be heading out early to reach the airport. My boss and some friends all wished me a good time and good journey. I have been jittery all day. And D.A. knows how excited I am! 
I'll have a final report before I head out. 
