It feels great to be back at home with Brett and all of the animals. Camille and I had a great time in France and London. We walked, we ate, we laughed, we walked, we walked, we laughed, we ate. It was wonderful. I took some pictures, but not a truckload. Other than London and a few spots we visited in France, I had been to our destinations before. Camille took 1,100 pictures. I'm waiting for her to load them so I can steal some of them to share with you. Don't worry; I won't post all 1,100.
The weather was great almost every day. We did have rain during our visit in Paris and when we first arrived in London -- but we like rain. It's a novelty for us and is far more comfortable for walking than hot sun and humidity - which we had on our "day from hell." Fortunately, that was also our last day in London. We staggered around the Tower of London melting in the hot moist air, craning our necks to hear the Beefeater's voice on the tour. Then we walked across the Tower Bridge and walked the wrong direction on our walking tour map. We decided to take a bus back over the bridge and to St. Paul's cathedral. But, the numbers on my bus map didn't match any of the numbers on the buses or the bus stations. We finally found one going the right direction, climbed on, held our noses and tried not to pass out in sweltering, crowded bus interior. Then the bus died. In the middle of an intersection. We weren't allowed to get off. After 10 minutes (which felt much longer than that), the bus hobbled to the curb and belched everyone onto the sidewalk. Camille and I staggered onward. We saw a shop selling smoothies and walked in, full of anticipation, for a nice cold drink. ... they were out of ice. No cold drinks available. We finally saw St. Paul's and then hightailed it onto the Tube (which was accurately reflected on my map) and back to our hotel. We picked up our luggage and walked to an intersection where we were told it would be easy to catch a cab to the train station. It took us 20 minutes to hail a cab and then I somehow managed to simultaneously scrape my shoulder and gash my shin scrambling into the cab while he sat in traffic. We looked like washed out, wiped out zombies getting on the EuroStar back to Paris.
But, every other day in London was wonderful and there has to be one bad day on vacation to laugh about. Right?
And, it is wonderful to be home. Last night when Brett pulled into the garage, I couldn't wait to go see Jackson. He was hanging his head as far as he could over his stall door and his ears were straining forward towards me. I planned to ride him this morning but he is a bit off so I groomed him and fussed over him instead. We were both in heaven. I tried to help Brett with the evening chores but I kept getting mobbed by critters looking for attention and welcoming me home -- the dogs, the donkeys, and the goats.
To be honest, I was too tired to be much help. After chores, Brett and I drank a glass of wine on the viewing stand. Then I took a shower to wash away all the travel grime and crawled into bed. I heard 4th of July fireworks going off as I slipped into sleep.