BACK HOME TO DAFFS

M O N D A Y,  1 0  A P R I L

I slept quite well on the train, but it was a bit funny with just a blanket.

The weather was deadly, it didn't exactly help the dreary French landscape. Honestly, the north of France is awful.  Nobody seems to care about their houses. We rushed off the train at Lille to get ham rolls for breakfast - and rushed back on with no time to get our change. At Calais we got the 'Cote d'Azur' and were on deck all the time. The sea was rather calm but the boat rocked a lot and I felt rather ghastly. Overheard this man saying we'd won the Eurovision Song Contest. 

“​​​​​​​Miss Urgh Sandie Shaw. I hate Puppet on a String.”

Got train Folkestone to Victoria, it was cold and miserable. I looked everywhere for a snazz similar to Dutronc but there just wasn't one. Read 'Petticoat' on the train - it's jolly good, I might get it instead of 'Rave'.

The daffodils are only just out, so we haven't missed them after all. Sat by the fire after tea and wrote letters to Lucy and Anya about everything, and how fed up I am to be home.

Unpacked horribly late. Light out at 12.