We sail for America on the evening tide. Those of you who know me well will know that I have been rolling that phrase around in my mind for a while, savouring it like a particularly delicious and lasting candy. Farewell to England. We sail for America on the evening tide.
That said, if I could I would not say farewell to England and would stay much longer. Also, the setting sail business, as romantic as it is, will be proceeded by the decidedly unromantic schlepping of the duffel bag through tube stations and train stations. Our actual luggage is carry on size, but the duffel contains the camping equipment, principally sleeping bags, from Africa. The plan had been to mail them home from Cape Town, but best laid plans being what they are... We did give one away to a homeless guy, but the other three have been our constant companions. Plus a few souvenirs the duffel is now the size of a small person, say a dwarf. And it is ill tempered as well, having an odd soft shape that makes slinging it over my shoulder a struggle. Again, like a dwarf.
But for now I still have an hour to sit in the garden and say farewell to England.
Isabel, Ravenclaw. Good choice, better colour scheme.
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