A night we won't forget - Singapore

By five we were dozing again, by nine out for the count, bur really that is no way to combat jetlag we thought, so once again forced ourselves upon the town.

We dragged ourselves through alternating bouts of numbness and pain through the day as we retraced old steps, until our evening rendezvous with Rob and Janet, who appeared fresh from the morning’s flight, and refreshed from a few hour’s sleep, bright eyed and bushy tailed.     

Our bodies must have been coming back into morning as well, because as we walked at length through the evening sights we too, were enjoying ourselves immensely.   So much did we enjoy that walk through Clark Quay and Marina Gardens and the amble home that for the second time in three nights we found ourselves returning to our room with a very few hours remaining until we were required to depart for our flight.

The day we don't remember - Singapore

We arrived at our hotel before eight in the morning, grateful for the room that was available, determined somehow to beat the fatigue that was to come.   Just a few hours sleep we said, and set the alarm for lunchtime, waking in a fog, forcing ourselves into the heavy tropical outdoors for the afternoon.

The fog in our brains didn’t lift, the coffee didn’t hit wherever caffeine is supposed to hit, we returned to our hotel at six, ate early and were in bed by eight, determined to get a proper sleep.

We did too, until not long after midnight when we woke, together as though an alarm had alerted us each to the other’s state of mind.   

The night that never was - Paris to Singapore

We thought we were clever booking a day flight to Singapore, after all it would be before midnight for us when we arrived, and it was but of course it was also tomorrow, very early, and we hadn’t been to bed and we were supposed to be getting up.

Singing for our supper - Paris

Tomorrow we fly out, coincidentally on the same flight as Joan and Peter who not coincidentally are staying in “our” hotel.

There is a restaurant in Paris according to Peter, where the staff are fair dinkum Opera singers and the food is worth eating and we should he has been saying, make a point of going there on our last night in France.   So we did.

We fiddled around in Paris all day, which is not a difficult thing to do, and met Joan and Peter and the appointed hour at Bel Canto, where as promised the food was indeed worth eating, and the music incredible.  We were the first to arrive and if not the last to leave, the last who did not have a key to the premises.

When we arrived back at our hotel thankfully close to the airport, it was the day we were supposed to be leaving.

That feeling you get. - Port-Saint-Marie to Roissy CDG

There’s nothing worse than waking to a carefully timed alarm, to dress in a relaxed manner, ready for breakfast and a five-thirty am departure only to realise that something has been left on the boat fifteen minutes drive away.

A high(ish) speed chase in the pre-dawn mist had us back in time to pick up Joan and Peter, and together we traced our commute by car, train, bus and train, checking in to our airport hotel in early afternoon, feeling strangely exhausted.

Perhaps that's how the plants are feeling after a long hot summer.  

It's a wrap! - Lagarde and Port-Saint-Marie

The covers on, the last of the cleaning done, the instructions written and the last of the food and drink deposited with Grahame and Aileen to do with what they will in the few days they have remaining, packed, we checked into the bed and breakfast place at Port Saint Marie, showered and shot back to Lagarde for one final night of rollicking good times.

The alarm is set for “too early”, we arrived home “too late”, but tomorrow our year is done!

The end is nigh. - Luneville

When the time comes to arrange a lift to Lunéville to pick up the car, we know we are close to the end.   

We’re strangely relaxed knowing that no matter how much or how little time we have left now, the work will expand to fill it, so we have hired the 2CV and have co-opted Joan and Peter to drive us to pick up the hire car which will get us all to the station on Sunday.

While we were at it, we figured a walk around the town centre and the chateau would definitely be in order, and perhaps a nice lunch to put us in the mood for our penultimate party in Lagarde.

Yes, it is tough work, but someone has to do it.