We can never work out why no matter how much time is available to complete a task the size of the task expands to consume it all. Today was no exception although with as little fuss as we can remember, we finally had the boat locked, next year's list (now grown to several volumes) tucked safely away ready for a new round of procrastination, finalised our farewells and were on our way with minutes to spare.
"Minutes" is a relative term, it means if all goes well as indeed it did today, we would be at the station before the earlier train had departed. That connection would of course leave us time for a coffee and perhaps the last Tart Citron of summer during our change in Nancy, and of course there's the three hour wait in Paris and what has become a sort of obligatory argument with the nice British Border people who seem to have it in their heads that we are somehow plotting to sneak in unannounced and settle somewhere dreary.
We had thought, oddly enough that procuring a passport to confirm my Citizenship of that country may reduce the venom with which we are interrogated, but it seems that it puts the other of us under even greater suspicion. Perhaps it's the lack of Australian Visa in my British Passport which tends to make them suspect that we don't ever intend to return to the Antipodes.
As always, logic and a bit of common sense prevailed and by dinner time we had been reunited with Shelley and Jules in London.