Things I did this weekend:

After recovering from my exhaustion I went on an adventure. It was supposed to be pretty simple – I drove to dad’s flat in Windsor, stayed the night there (and ate three Krispy Kremes... One of them for breakfast. Oops!) Then set off the next morning for Marlborough to visit my adorable friend known as Gandalf (for reason I cannot begin to explain here).  The journey was, uh, interesting. My normally trusty sat nav (named Miss Deborah, my car is Mr Holbrook) decided the best route was cross country, which I could just about handle. Imagine this: Driving through the beautiful Wiltshire country side, windows down, as a Laura Marling album playing softly against the gentle summer breeze. The single track road leads you to the top of a hill, where you are surrounded by beautiful patchwork valleys. Miss Deborah’s shrieking tone breaks the silence; ‘Arriving at destination, on left!’

My beautiful summer-drive dream was shattered. I’d only been to Marlborough a few times, but I was pretty sure in the last two years it hadn’t been raised to the ground and replaced with a field. Yet my sat nav was adamant that I was in Marlborough High Street. Tits. I did what any self-respecting young woman would do and panicked, phoned Gandalf to say I’d be a tad late and grabbed a handful of Haribo.

I eventually made it, despite traffic jams and the lack of parking in Marlborough. Amazingly I was early. Gandalf was late. Lunch in Ask was pretty normal, except for the restaurant filling with smoke every ten minutes (the only advantage of sitting by the door – asthmatic Gandalf could breathe)

Strange moment - a man in his late 20’s came up to Gandalf and started a full-on, but friendly conversation about her knee (she’s on crutches), he was so comfortable in the conversation I assumed she knew him – she didn't. Turns out neither of them knew the second man that joined the conversation, though they all seemed pretty animated in their knee-focused conversation. I have a bad knee, but am not on crutches nor having an impending operation so was not permitted to join the conversation. Didn’t want to take part anyway. Pah.

I eventually made it down to my old school for a BBQ and a trip to the pub. Most of the old pupils were old, though there were a few ‘youngsters’ there. I spent most of the night being embarrassed in front of the Headmaster and his wife by the old pupils that had attended a wine-tasting evening when I was a Prefect – that was an epic night!

I was supposed to be camping in a field in the village with two boys that were in my year. I say boys - they are both over 6ft, individually weigh more than three of me and are generally a bit boy-ish. There was only one tent so I was intending to sleep in my car. Luckily, whilst at the pub, an old pupil, who happened to be my old biology teacher, and now house mistress of my old house offered me her sofa. I could not have been more grateful! I skipped the cricket on Sunday – it started to rain and I wasn’t in the mood for sitting in the rain whilst old men got far too excited by the prospect of standing around for hours.

I cannot think of anything more lovely than sleeping in my own, giant bed. It is the most comfortable bed in the world. That’s not an exaggeration, it really is! Strange how home-sick I got just by going back to school for a day. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it when I was there, but I love being at home more.

Mostly because I get to play guitar all day and eat real food. 

Fxx

PS. If any of the above seems a little German in it's grammar, apologies, but for some reason that I cannot fathom, my Germanic heritage seems to be showing itself in my written language...