Since getting home it has been an ecletic time. I have spent much of the time in bed trying to get well enough for the various activities I was supposed to be doing, the rest has been a mix of tennis, music, and passing out or off.
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| England V Ecuador Davis Cup. |
Sometimes when just finishing a break, there's a day or two if I am lucky, when I function before collapsing and that was how it worked on my return from Italy. I rushed up to the allotment, managed to get a lovely evening of music in the local church and then saw England defeat Ecuador in the Davis Cup. But yoga finished me off very badly.
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| Pelleas Ensemble |
I was just recovering by Thursday when I had to go down to my nephew's passing off parade, near Woking, except because he too was injured he did not march, he limped and sat with us and explained the scene before us. Seeing families from around the world celebrate their loved ones getting through basic army training was a joy, from tiny children to oldies like me, we were all immensely proud. And of course fascinated. Everywhere we looked people were marching, marching down back streets, marching across the footpath, some in uniform, some with camoflage,and some especially for today marching across the parade ground to the army band's Abba renditions, and then being inspected. The women ullulated with joy, the rest of us almost sang along then remembered where we were. It was so hot, some people really did pass out. They wobbled, their colleagues rushed across the patrol ground with a wheelchair and inelegantly flopped them in and rushed them off. Despite the real worry that these young people, some with families, might be sent off to WW3, it was a happy morning, followed by terrible tedium all afternoon just waiting. I was feeling so rough by this time, I did not even think I could slope off and go and lie down somewhere I just waited with everyone else until all the soldiers were released. My sister's family had attended the event with me and in theory were going back to our hotel and then travelling up north the following day, but with her son injured and unable to go on to the next bit of training, they were all free to disapear, which they did, whilst I crawled back into the hotel bed, and treated myself to sleep and rubbish TV all night, knowing that it would be much worse if I had travelled home and then crawled into my own bed.
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| The rest of the platoon in action |
Woking, is associated with HG Wells, it is also home to the oldest mosque in the UK. Determined to have done something in Woking, I dragged myself the 15 minutes up to gaze at it, and it is a lovely building, and then went home and back to bed, so that I could be ready to go to Norfolk and then onto Lincoln. Which would be nicer than expected, but have some unexpected up hills and down dales.
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| HG Wells. |
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| Built 1889, the country's first purpose built Mosque. |
