The weekend bride's parents, Paul and Maryta, outside the church.
Still thinking about the great time we had at Portsmouth, which may be why I lost at chess again on Monday – or I may just be losing it completely. Despite this, new prospects may be opening up: on Tuesday Anne Coomes arrived, and we spent most of her visit discussing the possibility of my doing training sessions across the country for diocesan communications officers.
Anne, as well as being the ex-wife of my good friend David, is in charge of Parish Pump, a web-based organisation which supplies material and assistance to editors of church magazines, and which has grown remarkably in recent years. The idea would be that I would do sessions based on my UEA lectures but adapted to suit the audience. We hope to give a trial to a specially selected group in Norwich, but of course that does depend on the diocese agreeing and supplying a venue. I would be concentrating on the quality of writing, but there are additional possibilities. I was thinking of deregistering myself as self-employed because of my lack of earning in the last two years, but I may now change my mind. We’ll see.
Anne went off to Northamptonshire yesterday morning, after I registered her on Facebook. I guided her to Cringleford and then did a bit of walking. I had the idea of walking home, but found myself looking round the burial ground at Eaton, which I stumbled upon, and then found it was – amazingly – too warm to walk very far, especially as I had woken very early and written a new piece for my website. So I caught a bus on Newmarket Road (I had probably walked a couple of miles anyway), which took me home, where Dot was working hard on her pre-inspection briefing: she’s doing an inspection at Hickling on Maundy Thursday.
Later she walked up to Rymans to buy some paper for the printer and purchased 5 for 4 because it seemed a good deal. The trouble was, it was a very heavy deal, and she struggled down Prince of Wales Road, stopping every few paces. I had gone to meet her, but for reasons which need not detain us thought she had gone to Morrisons, which is in the opposite direction. When I contacted her by phone from Morrisons, she was about a third of the way down the hill, and I eventually reached her roughly halfway down, where she had ground to a halt. By the time we got home we were both pretty exhausted, but she still had to go to Gillingham, where she is a governor, for a 6pm meeting. I watched Spurs beat Fulham 3-1 in an FA Cup quarter final instead, which was slightly more restful, though Spurs were pretty awful in the first half (HT 0-1).
Today she has gone to Kessingland for a DSSO visit, followed by lunch with Anne, and this evening we’re at the Theatre Royal for an Alan Bennett play, Enjoy, starring Alison Steadman, one of my favourite actresses. Then off to Coventry with Phil tomorrow for a meeting with Andrew’s social worker.
Phil and Holly emerging from the church beneath a guard of honour after their wedding.
Just back from Portsmouth – new territory for me – where we witnessed the wedding of my goddaughter Holly Henderson at St Ann’s Church in the Royal Naval Dockyard. She is a lieutenant in the Navy, and her groom, Phil Dennis, is a lieutenant-commander, which is one rank higher. We stayed in the Queen’s Hotel on the seafront, which was excellent. Our large room had a great view of the Isle of Wight and of the ferries and occasional Navy vessels entering and leaving harbour: it was also extremely comfortable, and the food (we had dinner there on Friday) first class and reasonably priced. The staff in the restaurant were brilliant too, but all without any fuss. Pretty much my perfect hotel, except for some bizarre plumbing in the bathroom, but that was a minor issue.
The journey down started beautifully but gradually deteriorated after I took over the driving at Thrift Farm, near Buckingham, where we’d stopped for a cup of tea, only to find that it was shut – a fact they did not feel it necessary to reveal until we’d parked and walked about a quarter of a mile to the tea room door. We snatched some sandwiches at the next service station and progressed through ever-worsening weather until on the approach to Portsmouth you could hardly see where you were going. The traffic was very bad too: several hold-ups and particularly severe as we entered Portsmouth. I played it by ear and got to the hotel by a slightly roundabout but relatively traffic-free route. Took us about five and a half hours altogether. Roughly 230 miles. Looked at other guests keenly to see who might be attending the wedding, and had a chat with Maryta’s best friend Barbara and her husband Tim. Otherwise it was guesswork.
The wedding went very well, despite the frequent rain showers and overcast sky. Being inside the Dockyard was a fascinating experience, driving past huge ships and eventually finding the church, where we discovered Barbara and Tim again, as well as Celia from Cambridge, who turned out to be Holly’s other godparent. We were very early, but the church was packed eventually, and we watched the guard of honour practising. Afterwards we all drove to the Royal Marines Museum, east along the seafront, which was an impressive setting for the reception. There was the usual delay, but the gap was well filled with bubbly and canapes, followed by speeches and then a fine meal of lamb. We were on a table with Barbara and Tim, Celia and other people from Norfolk, as well as a couple from Mottingham Lane. All got on well, and my only regret was that I had to curb my drinking of the abundant wine, because I was driving. After the meal there was a live band, disco style, and I danced briefly with Dot and Maryta before we went back to the hotel around 9pm. There we saw the end of the rugby, France beating England and taking the grand slam.
This morning, with improving weather, we strolled over to the seafront after breakfast and then had tea in the bar with Paul, Maryta, Holly’s brother Joe and his American girlfriend Chessie, who was charming. Chatted for well over an hour, and we eventually left at about 12.45. The drive back home was much better, though still marred by the apparently permanent road works after Milton Keynes at the M1 junction and beyond – about 10-15 miles at 40mph. Got home about 6pm. It’s now 10.10pm, and I’m feeling very tired. I don’t know why.
Bruce, Shelagh, Brian (with Marian), Robin, Cynthia, Brian and Marian before setting off on a short walk at Caistor St Edmund
Hazy few days: think I’ve just about got back on to an even keel, but never quite sure. We had a fun evening with Menita and Regis – the continental way of eating, which lasted all evening till after 11pm – and just about made it to bed before going to sleep. On Monday I had my temporary crown replaced with a permanent one. Sad, really. The temporary one was doing really well, and the replacement process turned out to be painful. Two lots of anaesthetic needed to drill away the cement, leaving my mouth sore. Happily, the effects only lasted the rest of the day. I gave chess a miss.
On Tuesday we had a large group of ten, and Dot cooked roasted vegetables to go with my fried bacon and some goat’s cheese. Good meal, and fruitful conversation. Earlier Dot and I went out to North Walsham to leave flowers in the cemetery and to visit Jessie. This was after calling at the garage, where they managed to fix Dot’s defective door release by reprogramming it very simply. The mechanic also told me how to sort out my problem with the electronic windows; so a useful visit. I managed to leave my mobile phone at Jessie’s (it fell out of my pocket), so had to return yesterday to pick it up after going into Norwich with Dot to buy a suit and tie from Marks and Spencers for the wedding. Went for a grey one for a change: I think it works all right. Afterwards called in at Starbucks on The Walk, and Dot asked for a tall americano and an extra shot with room, thus fulfilling a recent ambition. They knew what that meant, but when she asked for half-and-half, the assistant thought she wanted to pay half cash and half on card, which is a bit bizarre. Another assistant, however, was able to supply the half -cream, half-milk required. Boringly, I had a boring tea, which was boring. Ran into Adrian busking on London Street and bought one of his CDs.
The weather has been milder this week, and today I joined some former colleagues for a yomplet at Venta Icenorum. Not exactly strenuous, but a pleasant hour before I had to hurry back home to take a call from a hospital nurse about my recurring technical problem. Dot meanwhile was at Park Farm and then at her aunt’s. I’m still catching up with mail and other things. We are off to a meal with the Robinsons this evening, and tomorrow we head for Portsmouth and the wedding of my god-daughter Holly. Of which more later.
We ended our stay in Ontario with a delicious fillet steak sandwich lunch (B Murray), then were driven to the airport, where everything went smoothly again – in fact even more smoothly, because Canadians are less up themselves than the English. Through security very quickly and without taking our shoes off. Coffee at Tim Horton’s, then I bought a wallet (because my other one was falling apart) and a thriller to read while enduring the endless waiting that is synonymous with airports. Plane took off on time, and despite the lack of a tailwind, was only late at Heathrow because it had to circle a couple of times. Scheduled for 0625, we eventually landed about 0640, and then had to wait ages in the plane for buses to take us to the terminal. The plus side was that when we eventually reached the baggage hall, our luggage was already there. Food pretty good on plane again, and I watched Angels and Demons, though of course you don’t get the full impact on a small screen and with interruptions. As I’d read the book, this didn’t matter much. It was OK.
Heathrow Express, Paddington station, and £25 for a taxi through the rush hour to Liverpool Street, with a driver who really had a lot to complain about. He must have been happy about something, but we didn’t discover what. Basically, too many roadworks in London, and most of them cosmetic. I paraphrase. Still he was kind enough to drive us right into the station (another £1 or so). We grabbed a baguette and tea / coffee, and then made the mistake of getting on the 9am to Norwich. It turned out this wasn’t off-peak – although I would have thought all the rush-hour traffic was coming the other way – so we had to pay another £26 each or get off at Shenfield for an hour. I couldn’t face Shenfield for an hour, but this added about 50% to the total return fare. Grrrr. Got revenge by not buying anything from the refreshment trolley. Arrived Norwich just before 11am, which meant TM was not really ready for us and hadn’t quite finished clearing up. Entropy had taken place on a large scale: the oven had become totally messed up and took well over an hour to clean; the car battery had gone dead, and we had to call out Mazda Assistance; a brick had fallen out of the wall on the steps for no apparent reason; the milkman hadn’t delivered the food we thought we’d ordered; and neither Tweetie nor Apple TV was working (both now fixed).
After the Mazda man fixed the battery, I took TM for a 40-minute ride to charge it up and then delivered him home with his various parcels. He is moving to a new place tomorrow. Later I delivered Phil’s birthday present. I was in pretty much of a haze all this time, but we did manage to unpack and do a few essential things before falling into bed about 8.45pm – which, if I’m not mistaken, was roughly 32 hours since we’d got up. Yes, I did manage about ten minutes to half an hour’s sleep on the plane…
Got a good sleep, unsurprisingly, and got up on Saturday about 9.30 to have our hair cut. Did not do much else all day except start to go through the post and answer some e-mails. Oh, and I watched a couple of rugby matches: an exciting win by Ireland against Wales and a tryless bore draw between England and Scotland. Plus a little more TV. Dot went to the shop and cooked a delicious salmon meal not unlike one we had in Canada, but closer to home. To our astonishment, it was suddenly 10pm. It felt like about 6pm. I wonder why.
Another reasonably good night, but woke up feeling tired again, though with an improved head (not before time, some might say). Happily both cars were working, so I went early to church to fix everything up, and Dot followed. Very small congregation – not dwarves, just few people. The Rev Peter Varney was guesting, and Dot and I were the music group. Rather strange service – still feel a bit disconnected from reality, and we’re off to evening meal with the Medionis in an hour’s time. As they’re French and Italian, it probably doesn’t matter. Oh, yes: we’ve booked a plane to Venice for June. Dot did the research, and it seemed the cheapest option as well as the easiest. We fly from Norwich and change at Amsterdam. Coming back, same thing, but from Florence instead of Venice.
Dot takes advantage of the Ontario sunshine to secure her tan, despite the accompanying snow
Another stunning Ontario day, with snow melting fast. We’ve just about packed, and Dot has gone upstairs for a shower after coffee in the kitchen with Barb. She even managed it out on to the deck in her nightdress without any obvious signs of distress. Checked in last night online after another beautiful meal, this time salmon, potatoes, mushrooms plus. Delicious. White and red wine, which meant I barely stayed awake through Scoop, our last movie. Not Meg Ryan this time, but Scarlet Johansson and Woody Allen. May have seen some of it before, but it was very funny, and I can never remember films anyway. Wish I could. Likewise books.
Heard that Tim M has found new accommodation, which is very cheering: he’s been putting up with aggro for too long. And Vicky M has sold her house, though it seems there’s some doubt where she’s moving to. Possibly Old Costessey. Things are changing.
Still relaxing. Had a lovely meal last night and then watched French Kiss, another Meg Ryan film and a very funny and satisfying one. Today I am taking it easy again after a delicious Lighthouse-style breakfast from Barb, following which she and Dot departed alarmingly for Toronto with shopping in mind. Roger and I stayed here. I have done some packing and checked e-mails, etc. Nothing from British Airways yet, but at least they’re not on strike. Lovely as it is here, I think I’ve reached the stage when I shall be glad to be home, which should be about noon on Friday (or 7am Toronto time).
Have read a few books – two by Randy Wayne White which I think are not quite as good as his earlier stuff, plus Blink, by Malcolm Gladwell, which is excellent. Hard to describe what it’s about: maybe the way we perceive things is as close as you could get in a sentence. Have also read Gawain and the Green Knight, which against all the odds was quite compelling – and very pleasing too, though not exactly politically correct. Plus a book by Roger’s brother John called If we only knew, which I found very moving. It’s broadly about our relationship to God, but consists mostly of people’s surprising and humanly inexplicable experiences, often in Eastern Europe, where he used to work. I’m thinking of getting it for our Tuesday Group. Have written the makings of a few poems, but only two of them are anywhere near complete. Nevertheless, I’m very hopeful. Have just been watching Crossroads – the DVD of a guitar festival organised by Eric Clapton. Some excellent stuff on there, including a number of the greats.
Unbelievably, it’s warm enough here in Cedar Mills for Dot to sunbathe on the deck, with a nice snowy background while drinking a mimosa. We’ve just been for a “half-hour walk” (B Murray) around local roads and have also toured the garden, which is quite a jaunt in itself. Yes, we’re back in Canada, relaxing. The past few days went something like this.
Evening of Thursday, March 4
Because of language difficulties and different customs, found ourselves in an embarrassing situation at Traders, where we had booked in and (apparently) arranged to meet the Murrays’ French friends (Valerie & Co), should they care to drop by. They did drop by, and were under the impression that Roger had booked a table for nine so that we could all eat together. Happily the restaurant was able to accommodate us all, but of course our own meals were already ordered, and it all got a bit chaotic. Still, it was a fun evening, and we continued the trend of chaos in France by watching Day of the Jackal when we got home.
Friday, March 5
Our final full day in Florida, which dawned sunny and apparently warmer. We went for breakfast at the Lighthouse, and then Barbara and Roger decided to walk to Redfish Pass. It then emerged that it wasn’t as warm as it seemed, and we were glad we decided not to join them. Even though they went out by the road through the resort so that the wind was behind them on their way back along the beach, they still got very cold. Dot and I meanwhile visited the dock briefly before going up to Starbucks, where we had drinks out of the wind, then went into a gallery, where we met photographer Ted Myerson, who was part of an arts collective. He was interested in my poetry, and I gave him my website addresses. Saw Barb and Roger walking past, and Roger came in and talked to Ted about photography. Meanwhile Dot bought a kind of bracelet made locally. Back at the house, Dot decided to go into the pool while Roger and I had a brief game of tennis. Played much better than last time. Roger and Barb went up to Mucky Duck to order meal for 5pm, but Dot and I got there late, so we eventually had the meal shortly before 6pm. Window seat, fantastic sunset, fish and chips. What more could you ask for? Certainly not broccoli. After packing for the journey, we watched You’ve Got Mail, starring Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. A feel-good movie.
W Hotel in Atlanta, Georgia, with its unique shot at a toilet/shower room/basin combination. At least, I hope it's unique
Saturday, March 6
The journey home began in bright sunshine, which was to last for just about the whole three days. We left at 9.15, and I did my only driving stint from near Gainesville, Florida, across the border and well into Georgia. It then emerged that Roger actually preferred driving, and I didn’t mind either way, so I became a passenger. Pretty uneventful drive, with constant temperature – only dropped below 10C as we got to the W hotel after dark. Roger and Barb hated the hotel, but Dot and I thought it was just trying to be too avant garde and get as much of your money as it could, which I suppose is not good. Had room service – an excellent chicken club sandwich with egg and avocado, but lukewarm chips. Dot’s caesar salad was on the vinegary side. But tea and coffee were first class, and so was the bed. The bathroom was peculiar, to say the least, a sliding screen leaving you in full view of the rest of the room while you were on the loo. There was no bath and a kamikaze shower. OK, I can see what they meant, especially as Roger arrived with a bad headache. Had a very small breakfast before leaving, because they charged excessively for that too.
Highway 20: a beautiful mistake
Sunday, March 7
Around freezing at 9am, but soon warmed up, and we were around 15C for much of the day. Went wrong out of Atlanta and found ourselves heading for the Carolinas on I-85. Made the mistake of pointing this out, so we missed the chance of adding two more states to to our list. Instead detoured across country on Highway 20, which as it approached the I-75 proved to be a beautiful route. Very enjoyable, though it cost us about an hour and a half. It’s those pesky traffic lights. Dot started taking pictures of the many churches that dotted the roadside. Back on the I-75 we listened to a couple of Garrison Keiller tracks as we entered Tennessee – “The Radio Announcer”, which was hysterical, and “The Young Lutheran’s Guide to the Orchestra”, which was more gently funny. Reached Cincinnati Cheesecake Factory about 6.20 and had about 20 minutes to wait for a table. Very nice steak. Waitress a bit dozy, but quite sweet. Only a few miles from there to our LivInn hotel at Sharonville, where we had a goodnight’s sleep in a basic but comfortable room with a bathroom that was quite separate and could not be seen from the bed.
Monday, March 8
Last day on the road. Again sunny and warmish. North on the I-75 through Dayton, where it was 8C, and the temperature contrarily increased the nearer we got to Canada, despite occasional snow at the side of the road. Clear run to Detroit, where we missed the bridge turning because of a blocked ramp and so experienced the tunnel, thanks to directions from a large black man who pulled up conveniently alongside at traffic lights and gave us directions. Equally genial was the female border guard, who chatted to us for a while and then waved us through. Dot and Barb were desperate for a coffee, so we stopped at a Tim Horton’s. Needless to say the Starbucks they were looking for was 50 yards further down the road. Still, I like TH. While I was in the restroom Dot tried to send my doughnut back, but she retrieved it when I told her it wasn’t a mistake. From there a long run on the 401 – everything looking so much more cared for than in desolate Ohio, but with the disadvantage of very few rest stop options. In the end one of our party got desperate a few miles before our turn-off, and we detoured to a MacDonalds on a side road, where we ruthlessly made use of their restroom without even holding the burger. From there it was only about 20 minutes to Chrissy’s house in Waterloo, where we had superb roast chicken with yorkshire pudding and great mashed potato! Chrissy on good form, and the children keen to see their grandparents – even keener to see their presents. Chatted to JD quite a bit, and we all got on really well. Very spacious and well located house. Glad we were able to stop. Back in car about 9pm for 90-minute drive back to Cedar Mills / Palgrave by back roads, this time intentionally. By the time we got there and unpacked I had pretty much had it and collapsed into bed. At one point during that short trip the temperature dropped to -1C, but it was back up to 3C by the time we arrived. When Roger turned the house water on there was a slight leak, but he fixed it by tightening a nut.
Thursday afternoon: sunny but with a cold wind. Temperature 14C – checked with David, and it’s 6C in Bedfordshire, but with an even higher wind chill than here on Captiva! After a leisurely breakfast today we drove over to Sanibel to visit the high spots of the island, using the term “high” in a strictly non-geographical sense. Started by returning our videos (watched Girl in a Cafe last night, followed by A Perfect Murder on videotape – supplied by the house), then called at an art gallery on the way to Tarpon Bay, where the wind was whistling across. We’d taken a trip from there three years ago when it was hot, and even then it was chilly on the water, so we decided not to risk hypothermia. Instead I bought a pair of binoculars – good value at $20.
Back to Periwinkle Place, then on to Dixie Boulevard, which turns into a dirt road round by the bay. Beautiful spot, though no real way of getting at the beach. We parked illegally for a few minutes and found the skeleton of a snake, as well as some dead “no parking”signs. Also saw some ospreys flying quite close up: amazing birds. Amazing also to think how rare they are in the UK. On to the Sanibel Marina and then the Lighthouse. The pier was very cold indeed but just round the corner out of the wind it was pleasant, and there were people sitting on the beach. A couple of dolphins were having lots of fun right up to the beach, and I may have got a couple of decent pictures, or I may not. Dolphins are very quick. My first memory card ran out here. I have started using the other one, but have found that it still has pictures from Switzerland on it, so I’m a bit worried how many more I can take. May have to do some deleting.
After a tour down Gulf Road to the residential part of the island, and taking in the Sanctuary (ditto) we returned home. Barb and Roger are now flaked out on the sofa, and Dot is reading on the balcony upstairs.
Yesterday was overcast and even cooler than today. In the evening it could even be said to be very cold, and when we broached the beach for the sunset we had to wear anoraks and coats. Unheard-of here. We had started the day with breakfast at the Lighthouse Cafe and driven on to Fort Myers, where we found one of the dullest malls in captivity. Even Barb and Dot were unimpressed, and I think I had the only book in the entire place,so I read some of it. We returned to the island and found another bookshop, which was excellent. I bought a couple. On to Periwinkle Way and a bit more shopping. Indulged in another black cherry ice cream in a waffle cone and managed to negotiate it successfully.
Back on Captiva I walked over to the dock while the girls went up to Starbucks. It was very cold there too, but there were some dolphins interacting with pelicans quite close in. Seemed at first that the pelicans were attacking the dolphins (which seems a bit foolhardy), but we decided they were just interested in the same fish. Later Roger and I fetched desserts from the Bubble Room for everyone except me. I had cheese, bread and crisps, which was much more fun. Oh yes it was.
Well past the halfway point how, and into some warm weather unmarred by chilly blasts. Also we all seem to be well. It’s Tuesday, and Barb, Roger and Dot have been absent since 11am, apparently calling at Starbucks on the way to repeating my Redfish Pass walk. Poured with rain first thing, but once that moved on the air was warm, and the breeze likewise. Would have gone on the walk too, but my metabolism isn’t suited to early-morning walks, and it turned out to be a wise decision. Instead went to dock and beach, checking on reported high tide two foot above normal. Eventually realised that this would only bring the water halfway up the beach anyway, so plumped for the dock, where the water was certainly the highest I’ve seen it, but not in any danger of coming over the top. The only problem water-wise was the deep puddle left by the rain across the entrance to Sunset Captiva, but I scrambled round that on the way out and returned by a slightly circuitous route involving the Chapel by the Sea. Incidentally have finally discovered the right address for this place, courtesy of a letter from the US Census this morning. Obviously I can’t reveal what it is.
Saturday was the low point for Roger and Barb: both were flaked out on the sofa. In the end Dot and I got a sandwich from the deli, and brought in a Bubble Room desert for Roger. We watched the Olympic curling final, won by Canada against Norway in pretty convincing fashion.
On Sunday Roger was still pretty bad, so the three of us still on our feet walked down the beach to Tween Waters, at which point I returned for the car while they continued to Blind Pass. I picked them up there and we continued on to Sanibel, where we bought some medicine for Roger and some ice creams for us – superb black cherry in waffle cone for me. Later Dot and I walked over to the dock and on to the gift shop and then Starbucks, where I had a caramel cider drink, which would have been nice if it had been about a quarter of the sweetness. While there we witnessed (or to be more accurate, I heard) a car park collision. Just dents, but as one guy put it, “that’s the end of our day”. When we left (after I had posted cards round the corner) the police/security people still hadn’t arrived. Later we returned to the deli by car with Barb to get a sandwich. Watched The Human Stain (on DVD) and Proof (on TV). Both were good films, but in the first Nicole Kidman was too young and pretty. and in the second Gwyneth Paltrow was too wimpishly annoying. This was a warmer day, but still with a sharp wind.
Yesterday was a big improvement, both in health and weather. There was still a touch of cold breeze, but hardly enough to notice. We started out at the Lighthouse Cafe, the did the tour of the Ding Darling nature reserve. Not quite as much wildlife activity as last time, and no sign of alligators, but still an impressive place. More bird activity later on the dock, where a fisherman was inundated by pelicans, a heron and an egret while gutting his catch. Finished the first Randy Wayne White book, which was good but not one of his best, then ended the day at the Mucky Duck. We had a 75-minute wait which turned out to be very pleasant – chatted to two women from Minnesota – then had a cheeseburger. Afterwards went to video shop on Sanibel and then watched Amelia, which was quite good but not riveting.
The other three have just got back, and Barb, Dot and I are about to drive over to Sanibel. Roger is resting – sensible man.
At the end of the day on Thursday Dot and I went up to the Bubble Room for desserts, and we then all watched 3.10 to Yuma, which is as good as I remembered. Makes you think a lot about why people behave as they do, and what really corrupts.
Yesterday Roger was feeling really bad, and today he’s worse, and staying in bed. Barb not too good either, but she and Dot went shopping yesterday as the weather got warmer. Dot bought a really nice skirt and some tops. Meanwhile I was doing a lot of walking. Started at the dock while there was still a chill in the air and saw three or four dolphins about 100 yards away. Watched closely by pelican, which seemed to think I had food. Then Dot and Barb dropped me off at Tween Waters on their way to the shops, and I walked back along the beach, taking in the chapel and cemetery (not morbid: both are picturesque). After a quick lunch of biscuits, cheese and blueberries, I embarked on a hike up to Redfish Pass, the most northerly point of Captiva. Outward part by beach, then back through the South Seas resort that annoyingly owns all the tip of the island. The last stretch is a quite wild bit of road between the bay and the Gulf, which I had forgotten was so long: mildly concerned that a large alligator might leap out of a roadside pond, or a deadly snake lurk in the grass. But no: in fact snakes and alligators rarely make an appearance, though I’m told there are lots of them. Passed hardly any pedestrians in final mile and a half. Whole walk (about six miles) took a couple of hours. In the evening we went to Doc Ford’s Sanibel Grille and Bar, which is a restaurant owned by R W White, the top local thriller writer whose main character is (of course) Doc Ford. The books are good, and so was the food. I had a delicious large rib-eye steak with mashed potato-and-parmesan and other goodies. Plus a couple of Tropical Breezes, which are rum-based cocktails. Amazing. Back at the house we watched the Olympics – mainly curling, which the Canadian women should have won, but didn’t.
Now it’s pouring with rain, and it will probably continue most of the day. Seems quiet without Roger, and there is only a very remote chance of Dot making it downstairs before noon, though to be fair she made me a cup of tea earlier. Barb is tackling bookfuls of bridge problems, Dot is reading a brilliant book called Blink, and I am roughly halfway through the compelling Black Widow, by the aforementioned RWW. If I am not mistaken, we have reached the halfway point of our holiday.
