Now, if there's such a thing as being suitcaseaphobic then I'm afraid that I suffer from it badly. I have a deep rooted terror of the things, which stems from my early childhood. You see, I was a very reluctant "boarder" at Wymondham College, a jail like teaching institution in the outer wastelands of rural Norfolk. To be fair, it gave me a good education but the place belonged in a Dickens novel & I was desperately unhappy there. Whenever I saw Mum attempting to drag the heavy leather bound travelling chest from the attic, I knew that it meant that I was about to be sent away for what at that age, seemed eternity again.
Right, so that explains why it's 05:30 on Nov 4th & I have just reluctantly started packing for our now imminent trip. The flight departs from our local airport, Norwich, at 10:00. Marcia is still in bed trying desperately to ignore my frequent calls for assistance & repeated demands to know what she's done with my regs.....as they certainly aren't where I left them! Finally this nighmare task is completed as I toss our bible, Coral Reef Fishes by Lieske & Myers on top of the heap of tangled hoses, sandals, pants & of course the essential supply of English tea. (How you folks manage to pour that disgusting Liptons witches brew down your necks never ceases to amaze me!). I manage to get at least two corners of the case sealed together & stand back drinking my fourth coffee of the morning whilst I admire my handiwork. That Mr Samsonite sure was a clever guy.
I've just discovered a potentially serious problem. My annual travel insurance expired a week or two ago & for some reason the providers haven't automatically renewed the policy.....I call my long suffering younger brother, Roj, & wake him from his Sunday lie in. Surprisingly, he seems delighted to hear fom me & assures me that he will sort everything later that day, or at the latest on Monday if the firm don't trade on Sundays. This is most unlike him & I'm sure there must be an ulterior motive. Sure enough...confirmation of our insurance cover later in the day is accompanied by a request for duty free Scotch on our return. Bless him!
It's now 08:00 & the other party members are starting to arrive. I've organised the trip for seven us & all are meeting here to leave their cars as we only live one mile from the airport. It's strange, I enjoy organising trips & think that I do a fair job but when it comes to looking after myself, I'm hopeless. I once even managed to leave my video camera at the airports metal detector! Perhaps I should have been born a century or so ago in the days of the British Empire, as I'm never happier than when travelling & it was quite acceptable then to have hoardes of servants & porters to carry out all those tiresome chores associated with it. Yes....I can just picture myself in my best Sunday pants & pith helmet smoking Silver Clouds from a long cigarette holder on the verandah of our tea plantation mansion as the sun eases its way majestically into the welcoming Indian Ocean. Ah well...maybe in the next life, eh?
Marcia & my shovel are calling, so I must be gone. This is going to take longer than I thought. We haven't even caught the plane yet, have we?
Until tomorrow....

ahhh, Andy, I have this feeling that this narritive is going to be spun out like the old Saturday movie serials (Steven King's Green Mile for you younger folks). That's OK, it will give something to look forward to each day.

Andy. Glad your back, missed your humor. Can't wait for the next installment.

Also I have been waiting what seems like ages to put up this little gif I found of you hard at work.

Well Hello Andy. Glad you made it back OK. I've been under immense pressure to divulge the site you took me to. I have, however, been steadfast in my resolve.

Tim, I know where it is too....keep it a secret...

andy (would have cap'ed the "A", however, i spilled my "Liptons witches brew" on my keyboard this am, and now have a non functional shift key...good story, I can't wait until you get on the plane...and yes, I can picture you in your "best Sunday pants & pith helmet smoking Silver Clouds from a long cigarette holder on the verandah of your tea plantation mansion as the sun eases its way majestically into the welcoming Indian Ocean"....have me on pins and needles1...damn shift key...

You could be right Dean....let me know if it gets tedious.
You implying that I can't keep my tongue in whilst working Chris? What happened to the "u" in "colour"? It's a slippery slope...in next to no time you'll be saying "Mom". Come on, pull yourself together lad!
If I had to pick anyone to be steadfast Tim, it would definitely be you! You're a good man...& so are you Cynde, I've not forgotten you.

Heave Ho, Sir Andrew....we await your tales with baited (?) breath...return to us when your shoveling duties "are no more"...trying to find some Monty Python humoUr, here....please do return to us shortly...Carole (Shutterbug)