Bristol

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We left Scotland 5 days ago and the first leg of the journey took us 390 miles south to the City of Bristol. We will be here for another few days before we head to Dover, for the ferry over to France. It is wonderful to have long lazy evenings in front of the fire with my parents (and wine) and long awaited catch-ups with all my wonderfully funny, creative and caring friends.

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My Dad is an artist and we’ve been running around all weekend together collecting foliage and unusual objects, borrowing mums hats and snipping her late blooming flowers to play around with light and still-life. All the time drinking far too much Earl Grey and just pottering to the rhythm and silence that only people who have known each other all their lives can do.

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My very organised husband (who is in charge of the colour coded spread sheet budget – this is a real thing) had all his kit packed in separate places for each leg of the adventure. I just chucked mine in the van randomly. Bikinis on top of thick jumpers, insect repellent next to woolly hats and hiking poles, Brazil books on top of The Rough Guide to Portugal. We leave for France on Wednesday morning so I will spend the next two days repacking, reorganising and trying terribly hard to pack light. Wish me luck.

Kit list still in the works.

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