And That's Summer Gone For Another Year...

So I'm sure you're all dying to hear about my holiday, right?

Right?

Heh, so I had a pretty good time. Three full days and two half-days of sun (mostly) and sand and sea - and yes, suntan cream and the smell of coconut - as well as just that wonderful sense of relaxation, knowing that there's nothing urgent that needs doing. I didn't get to the gym (I wanted to try out the one in Bournemouth, because it has a pool and an aromatherapy room - I've never been in an aromatherapy room before) but we shopped a little on the one day that it rained, and went to the beach every day (even the rainy day - and yes, I swam in the rain, although not in the lightning and thunder).

And we ate a LOT of food. I can see I'm going to be working it off at the gym for a long time.

I actually made a detailed diary, in a pretty little notebook, that I'm going to give to Oli when he gets home. But I'll give you a short run-down:

Thursday we drove down there. I like the drive down because it's always the same. We leave early in the morning, early enough that I don't want to eat much and feel a bit cranky because I'm still half asleep. Drive through town, down to Chiswell Green, and take the M25 West to Heathrow. At Heathrow we change to the M3. At Fleet services we rest the car, since it's old and tends to get a bit hot on long journeys, especially ones where we're carrying a lot of weight. At Fleet I use the bathroom, buy a couple of those chewable toothbrushes that I never find anywhere except motorway rest stops, drink a cup of coffee to wake me up a bit, perv over all the army guys who you can find there on any given day, gasp in shock at the price they charge for meals (no matter how many times I make the trip, the prices still astonish me), buy a baguette - either tuna or chicken salad - and sometimes a burger from KFC. It irritates me that every time I get there I want McDonalds, because I love McDonalds breakfasts and the only time I'm ever up early enough to get one is when we're driving down to Brian's, but although there's a McDonalds sign when you pull into the service stop, there isn't actually one there, it's on the other side of the road. But that's just life. *shrugs*

Mom uses the bathroom and then stands outside smoking three cigarettes in quick succession, because I don't let her smoke in my car, even with the roof down. Occasionally she eats a pastry from the coffee shop - a cinnamon danish this time - or gets KFC with me.

From Fleet we carry on down the M3 and then when it ends, onto the M27. The M27 takes us through Winchester to Ringwood, which is always a nice leg of the journey, especially when you're travelling through the New Forest and get to see deer and ponies. I was happy this year to see that they've fenced it off so the wildlife can't wander onto the busy road. At Ringwood, we basically follow the signs for Poole. We always end up going the wrong way on this last bit of the journey, because Bri's directions are wrong and in four years we've never bothered to change them. Every year Mom says "this doesn't look right" and every year I remember, oh yes, we should have turned left there. It doesn't really matter though, it just means we go the back way and add a mile or two to the journey.

A couple of things change from year to year. Sometimes I buy something from the gift shop, although I still haven't bought one of those beanbag pillows that I've been wanting for four years. Often it's a Ben & Jerry's ice cream sandwich (that's another thing that I've been looking all over for, and rest stops are the only places I can ever find them.) The flavour of my sandwich varies between chicken salad and tuna mayo, and sometimes I get chips with it. I may or may not get KFC; if I get it I save the sandwich for later. But the bathrooms are always the same. The toothbrushes are the same. The army guys are the same - different guys, but always there as a definable presence. The ridiculous prices - £8.99 for a cooked breakfast - are the same. The car always overheats slightly, and Mom always smokes like a chimney, and I always wonder whether I should leave my laptop in the car, in which case I need to worry about whether thieves (something I don't usually worry about until I see the signs on every lamppost warning you against it) or bring it inside, in which case I have to keep an eye on it every minute.

Did I ever mention that I like things that always stay the same?

The other thing that's always the same is this feeling of excitement. Fleet is Mart's territory, and there's always a little thrill that I get as soon as I see the signs for the turnoffs to Farnborough / Farnham / Fleet, always a voice inside me saying, maybe you'll see him this time. Most of me knows I won't - Marti lives in Fleet, and there is no reason he'd be using the motorway rest stop. I'm never disappointed that I don't see him. But every year I still get that shiver of anticipation.

So anyway, the journey's always the same. The first night is usually the same, too. I unpack in the guest room, put my clothes in the closet, my cosmetics on the vanity, and go over to Brian's apartment to take a shower. After I shower, I nap for an hour or two. Then Mom wants beach, so Brian drives us to Branksome Chine, because it's the closest to where he lives. I swim every year, even at 8 or 9 at night, since it's my first opportunity to commune with the ocean ( LOL ). This year Mom swam too. Usually we go home and shower and get Chinese takeaway, but this year Brian bought a rotisserie chicken from Tesco, and we ate that instead. It was a fantastic chicken, actually. I've never bought one of those ready-cooked ones, but I'll have to remember it for the future. The flavour was incredible.

I always go to bed early the first night. Travelling exhausts me. Last year I retired early and texted Oli all night, but this year he's not available, so I read for a while and then fell asleep. I like somewhat-junky books for the beach, either sweet teenage romances or big fat love-and-lust books in the Jilly Cooper vein. This year I took a little of both: Jilly Cooper's Wicked, which funnily enough is what I read while I was down there last year (and actually didn't get round to reading this year) and Laramie Dunaway's Hungry Women and Wicked Women for the fat paperbacks, and L.J. Smith's Dark Visions trilogy for the teen romance. Somehow, even though I'm 24, I still enjoy reading some of the books I read when I was 12. With L.J. Smith and Christopher Pike and a couple others, I imagine I'll still enjoy reading them when I'm 84.

Well lookie that, I've been writing for ages and I've only managed to tell you about my first day. I'll have to update the rest of it later or tomorrow, because my back aches and I need something to eat.

And yes, dear one, it's good to be back.