29November1996

29 November 1996
My dear family,

Riches to rags in one fell sweep. Having being delivered to a door in a limo yest. a.m., I set out with lots of time to spare to fetch Jones from Heathrow late p.m. First hitch was that the car declined to start - flat & ailing battery. I’d half suspected that I might have a problem there, so I grabbed my weighty laptop computer with a view to filling in spare time on a letter - & set out to get the bus to the airport instead. There are meant to be two buses from Paddington Station an hour. You guessed. No bus. I waited for 45 minutes before reluctantly entering the station to take the underground instead. The rush hour carriages are always packed & not much fun!

You guessed again. No train. Not for 45 mins anyhow - and they are meant to run every five to ten minutes. The platform filled with growing numbers of anxious people. The signboard promised that the next train would go to Heathrow but the next train didn’t show. And when it eventually did, it was not going to Heathrow. Anxiety & frustration grew. After much waiting, somebody went off to wake the underground authorities who informed us over the tannoy that there’d been a signal failure. At long last, the Heathrow train showed, only the carriages were packed tighter than matches into a box. I got on somehow, the bloody computer half choking me & weighing a ton. The bloody train crawled all the way. I knew Jones would be hopping up & down & when we eventually got to the airport, I ran all the way to the Terminal. Damn near ran out of puff! Thank God, Jones plane was delayed.

Eventually she showed - and we took the bus home. I’d taken a coat to the airport with me & she needed it. It was cold. From the Quinta, she’d walked with all her spare figs & God alone knows what down the hill to Loule & caught a bus to Faro & then the airport. She said they weighed a bomb & she was dead right. Why not a taxi, I enquired. That would have cost £15 she told me...instead of £1. What can you say? She’s in one piece & fit & very pleased to be back in London...if only I can put a little weight on her bones now.

We spent part of the morning getting rid of excess clothing (to the charity shop over the road) & unpacking & repacking the invaluable sheets & towels I brought back from Bren, Mum. I had them stuffed into two small bags, one borrowed from Bren. Many thanks. They will do service at the Quinta for many years to come. There are also the two tassled bedspreads which are still look splendid. We both remember them well. Bren, I will take your case over to Germany at Christmas & give it to Micaela to take back. Thank you again.

I also had 30 mins on the phone to a very patient man at Dr Solomons, my virus programme manufacturer, who helped me resolve a conflict caused by the latest version. They send me updated discs every 3 months to take account of the latest nasties. Problem eventually resolved I’m pleased to say. He asked me if I’d ever come across a virus. I was pleased to tell him that I had..and his programme had screeched at me to alert me. Expensive but well worth while.

Jones has a light lunch ready. After that I must go and fetch a new battery. Then I’ll kip ahead of an overnight shift tonight. My thoughts have been much with the Calgarians as crunch hour arrives. Could not get fax tone from you last night, Calgarians. I’ll try my luck with this letter a little later.

Blessings ever
T