Askett

Despite being very tired last night, we did not sleep well at Stratford. Last time we stayed here in September we were beginning our adventure. Now nearly over our minds were racing, full of what was awaiting us back at home. Despite our tiredness we were up early to purchase a parking ticket. A couple of vans slipped out, keen to avoid the charge.

The sky pink from the rising sun we breakfasted and tidied Marge keen to walk along the river into Stratford before we left. The parking area was busy from early on, including a visit from the lowland search and rescue team who appeared to be carrying out a training course. It's not like Baywatch when after two chest compressions the casualty jumps up and runs up the beach the instructor stated. If the events of last night had gone pear shaped, they might have been needed to retrieve marge from the alligator teeth. I do all my own stunts. We know Marge, but don't be tempted anytime soon. Then two fire engines arrived, blue lights flashing. Why, we were not sure. Leaving Marge to listen to the talk on CPR we walked along the path that ran past the holy trinity church, the bells peeling, calling a congregation to morning service.

In the town a Sunday market was on replacing the funfair that was in town when we arrived last night. The cabochon lighting bouncing of the half-timbered buildings.

Crossing to the other side of the river Avon we watched a rainbow of kayaks emerge from the lock, whilst others slid easily down the smooth falling water of the weir. 
O.K. Marge next stop Buckinghamshire. Relatives, Christmas, catching up, meal and wine. We'd been away so long we felt a little disconnected from real life. Tonight, Marge is tucked up in a quiet little village. The sounds of the sea, waterfalls, rivers, wind and rain a distant memory.