Day One – London to Somerset
Driving through London and out onto the M4 was easy for, whilst the late morning traffic was heavy, the route is one I commute every day. After a Little Chef lunch – often the highlight of the journey for the sprogs – we continued to Bristol and swung left onto the M5 – and straight into one of the monster tailbacks that the motorway is known for. As our overnight stop as just off a junction further down the same route, there was little to be done except grin and bear it. After a couple of hours of what I call ‘concertina’ driving, where cars repeatedly bunch up and then spread out, we turned off the motorway and headed across the Somerset Levels. Five miles of narrow roads following the tidal dykes and rivers past small huddles of houses built with burnt orange and red brick brought us to a beautiful looking house surrounded by lush gardens and over looking the river. The home of friends who had fled North London a year back for a quieter, more relaxed life in the countryside surrounding Taunton, the house was straight out of a painting. A 300 yearold cottage that had been added to and altered over the years, it was idyllic and we made suitably jealous noise as we flopped around the farmhouse table slurping Earl Grey whilst the kids vanished to various parts of the house to get acquainted. More friends pitched up shortly after and so, with a total of 17 people, the hours that followed were filled with catching up on news, eating too much, drinking even more and generally winding down and getting into the holiday mood. The gathering was not planned – we and the other visitors had called to ask to stay over on the same date within a day of each other – but the mix made for interesting company. Between us, we could count a GP, a middle manager, two hassled mums, a well-know session musician and a hand therapist, so the conversations ranged far and wide until the small hours and then some. Not surprisingly, sleep came very easily.
remotebignoseduglyguy
with Palm T3 and SE T610
I did that drive once straight off a transatlantic flight. Never again.
And I hope you took in an all-day breakfast at the Little Chef; that is the most quality breakfast ever.