Stratford

Mutterings continued.

It's been a while - a lot has happened and some things won't now happen. Mum is very sick and I'm heading home early. I managed to change my flight from the 21st to the 12th, the earliest Qantas can get me home without charging me $6000. I won't have the extra days in London, nor will I be going to Paris, except to sit in the airport for 6 hours waiting for a connecting flight.

Derek Jacobi in Don Carlos was brilliant, of course. The Crucible theatre was only half full, unlike the Tempest a couple of years ago that was sold out. Sir Del plays a baddie so well.

I will never, never, ever drive into Sheffield ever, ever again. Unlike last time, we got into the city ok, found the hotel, found the car park. This time we couldn't get out and ended up driving where no cars are meant to drive - the tram tracks. We were rescued by a lovely man from Supertram who said consolingly, ''You're not the first, you won't be the last. Trucks have done it, buses have done it. Don't worry about it.'' After realising that I was was heading towards the abyss (ie oncoming trams) I ended up on the footpath outside a bank. Ash went for help, I sat in the car looking for all the world like a getaway driver trying not to look suspicious.

We did a search on the net afterwards, using the keywords 'trams' 'cars' 'Sheffield' and 'accidents' - seems there are a lot of people who go astray on the tramtracks, mostly they skid on the metal and plow into the pylons. At least I didn't do that.

Yesterday I visited the Museum of Photography, Film and Television in Bradford with Nick. Fascinating stuff, though the Photography section, with its old photos of long dead people, really creeped me out. Not sure why.

Today was spent driving from Huddersfield down to Stratford and having a bit of a wander. Tomorrow I think I'll go to Portmeirion.