Everything went pretty well on the mainland trip but not entirely smoothly. I did manage to get to Truro for the Day School but I had to leave at least an hour before the end which was a shame. It was interesting but I felt my lack of reading when it came to discussions like “Have you read ’such-and-such a book’?”. I really must try to read more but finding time is sometimes difficult. I quite enjoyed the writing exercise we did and was proud to have had a hand in two of the most successful characters our group produced 
Then I had a long exhausting slog across country from Truro to Birmingham, dragging my large black wheeled holdall and being heavily weighed down by the rucksack on my shoulder. I decided I would take my laptop plus writing materials but left the Big Red Book at home. Even so, when a couple of glossy magazines and a packed supper were added to the load, the rucksack seemed to be full of rocks 
The Truro to Plymouth leg was an hour and a half of sitting on a little flipdown seat at the side of a tiny two carriage local train – fortunately it meant that I could keep my luggage right next to me which was reassuring, but it was an uncomfortable journey and my back was aching by the time we pulled into Plymouth.
Then it was ‘drag-the-luggage’ time up and over the footbridge to the far station where a sleek Virgin Voyager train was waiting for the next leg of my journey. To my surprise and delight, I found my reserved seat was at the far end of coach D, opposite a luggage rack where I could keep an eye on my bags, with not only a toilet just through the door into the link section but also the Shop I settled down and enjoyed the first part of the journey until it went dark and there was nothing to see outside the window except lights flashing by. I had a big paper beaker of hot strong tea from the Shop to keep me going – I hadn’t had my usual ‘tea fix’ since I had a cup at breakfast and was feeling a bit shaky. The train got noticeably hotter and stuffier the longer we travelled and I simply couldn’t face the ’supper’ of poached salmon and watercress sandwich, crisps, bakewell slice and carton of orange juice tucked into the top of my rucksack.
We arrived in Gloucester on time but the train stopped at the very far end of an extremely long platform and I swear I had to walk about ten minutes before I reached the exit! Then there was a fleet of coaches parked outside the station and men in fluorescent lime green jackets clutching clipboards directed passengers to the relevant coach for their onward journey. I was SOOO glad to find that the Birmingham coach was parked just a few steps from the station exit but it was a struggle to get my heavy holdall into the belly compartment beneath and I banged my head on the lift up door flap. There were officials standing around talking but no-one offered to help single travelling ladies with their luggage – miserable toads! I struggled to get myself, the laptop rucksack, my fleece and handbag down the oh-so-narrow aisle of the coach until I found a vacant window seat and flopped gratefully into its welcoming embrace.
Then we were heading out of Gloucester, onto the motorway beneath a swath of eye-aching orange lights and towards Birmingham. Someone was listening to a transistor radio on fairly low volume several seats in front of me but I could hear a lot of excited yelling coming from the commentator. Of course, it was the England versus France rugby semi final from Paris and I deduced from the almost hysterical outburst at 9.30pm, as we rolled smoothly along the motorway, that England had beaten France…
Approaching Birmingham, we left the M42 at Junction 2 and headed towards the city centre, passing along the length of hotel-flanked Hagley Road, through Five Ways and onward. We arrived at Birmingham New Street station about ten minutes ahead of schedule because the motorway was clear. Mum-in-Law was waiting for me and whisked me home in a taxi. I was absolutely SHATTERED! She’d made a lovely Cottage Pie and we sat down to eat at which point I suddenly realised I was also STARVING and had two helpings.
My driving lessons went better than I had expected although I was extremely nervous about it all. Driving through Moseley for the first time, I swear my knuckles were white on the steering wheel. But my lovely instructress was calmness personified and called me ‘chick’ and ‘miss’ which made me chuckle inside, especially since she was almost young enough to be my daughter. Unfortunately her Vauxhall Corsa was playing up because the ball-and-socket joint beneath the bonnet, that was part of the gearstick assembly, popped out on at least four occasions during my lessons. I’d put it into first and the stick would go about 4″ further forward than it should – I was terrified the first time it happened, I thought I’d broken it! So she had to cancel my last two hour lesson booked for Thursday lunchtime and I’ll have to reschedule for my next visit to Birmingham.
Hubby arrived safely, and ahead of schedule, on Thursday evening and we collected our daughter from college in Leicestershire on Friday lunchtime, before driving down to Devon to stay with my best friend and her family for just one night. Saturday morning saw us rising at 5am – what a dreadful time – and leaving at 6am to drive down to Penzance to catch the helicopter back to the islands.
So now we have a week in which I have to juggle Gallery, daughter and study to produce my first TMA for A215 by Friday because I don’t know if I’ll have any internet access when I’m on the mainland next week and I can’t guarantee having time to go to an internet cafe It’s going to be quite a challenge …
