Home.

Mutterings continued.

Let's see...my last post still had me in Stratford.

On the Monday at breakfast at the B and B I got talking to a chap from London who was down for a few days for a break. A few years ago he had made himself a promise that he would see the entire canon on Shakespeare's play in 10 years - he did it in four! Having the RSC play all of The Histories in 2000 helped - he said that he saw all the Henry VIs in the one day and could quite happily have seen the sequal, Richard III, that night. Apparently the RSC is doing the complete canon next year in Stratford. I'd loved to have spoken to him for longer as he had attended a workshop the RSC ran where acting families discussed what it was like to have siblings, parents, children etc all in the same profession and David Troughton and his son Sam took part.

I dropped the hire car back at the Hertz office next to the railway station (where the poor woman who single handedly runs the place was trying to clean and check in what looked like a dozen cars! She took my keys, had a quick look at the outside of it, checked the petrol gauge and said "Thanks." and that was it.). I was about an hour and a half early for my train to London but was befriended by an elderly lady from Edinburgh who told me her life story, bought me a cup of tea and helped make the time pass most pleasantly.

On the train I sat next to a chap from Stratford who lives in Twickenham who was down visiting his family. He's had glandular fever and is off work on sick leave. That was another pleasant couple of hours. The things strangers tell you.

Got off at Paddington and immediately got on the Heathrow Express. I had to have my air ticket amended at the BA office in Terminal 1. I then got a cab to the Sheraton Skyline Hotel. As I was flying out at 6.20am the next day and had to be at the airport a couple of hours before then, I’d booked a room, a very expensive room (it was the cheapest they had!) to try and get some sleep before the next horrendous couple of days. There was a bit of confusion at the front desk as the confirmation number I’d been given by the Heathrow hotel room finder was wrong, however he managed to dig out a fax that confirmed that I had actually booked a room.

<>The room was wonderful! King sized bed, bath, huuuuge fluffy towels (which I had to ring down for), telly with lots of channels. I had a bath and went to bed about 7pm, with a wakeup call for 3.15am. <>

It turned out that I didn’t need to be at the airport until 5am. Caught the plane to Paris, wandered around the poorly serviced Terminal 2A for 5 and a bit hours before boarding QF18, one of the Longreach planes. I think I dozed on the plane as I seem to have seen Harry Potter 3 about four times but never in its entirety. 11 hours and 55 minutes it was off the plane at Singers for an hour while they changed the cargo and got a different crew. I dozed but didn’t really sleep during the flight to Perth. <>

As I had handed my luggage over to Qantas at Heathrow and wasn’t catching one of the scheduled connecting flights, I was concerned that my suitcase could end up anywhere, but after about 15 minutes it came tootling around the baggage conveyor. I had nothing to declare, except a nearly empty packet of Mark and Spencer’s Chocolate Digestive biscuits, which after consultation with Customs, I waved in the face of the AQIS officer. <>The wonderful Robandleece met me, plied me with water and Leece took me to Dad’s where I spent the night not sleeping very well.

So, that’s the trip – I shall post more in the future when I get my souvenirs, which are heading this way by sea, and photos.