Life after Lockdown – The Holiday Part 2

A Five-Part Holiday needs a Two-Part homecoming. Here’s Part One. And here’s Part Two –

What We Did After Our Holidays Part 2 – by 67 and Stopped Counting

We are back! Our journey home was not too bad, just a little stressful with a lot of different elements that had the potential to go wrong.

It was 11pm by the time we pulled on to the drive.

The first thing we noticed was that the grass on one of the lawns was thigh high. Our neighbour had been mowing our lawn but not the one across from the house – but it was good of him to do what he did.

We noticed that part of our drystone wall was down. We didn’t care. We were home.

We’d picked up a hire car at Heathrow. It was a bit chaotic, with a shift change taking place leaving a nice young man on his own.

We’d arranged, online, to deliver the car back to Leeds Bradford Airport because there was no option to do otherwise – eg have it picked up. We asked the chap how we could have it picked up because we would be in quarantine. He advised ringing the Airport depot in the morning.

He gave us the keys and waved us towards the car park asking us to wait about ten minutes because he was on his own and he would come and open the gate to let us out. He didn’t show us round the car. No problem.

We took the M25/M1 north stopping at Tibshelf Services for a comfort break and driver change.

I’d been fantasising about a cup of tea since leaving Palma. There was no drinks service on any of our flights – no tea, coffee or water never mind a nice G & T, so we were quite thirsty. We had picked up some water in Palma and again at Heathrow but tea was the thing we needed.

I called in to W H Smiths at Tibshelf for some milk, wearing my face mask as we understood was required in the UK. This caused much amusement to a teenage girl in Smiths who came up and coughed at me. No idea why. She kept walking towards me and I kept backing away. Finally, her mother called her off. What was that all about?

The tea was wonderful.

The next morning, after a fitful night, we began our tasks. We had to let our family know we were home. Foolishly, we hadn’t left our keys with anyone – we were only going to be away for 12 days…

We had to wade through mountains of post.

We discovered that DH’s car had run out of tax. He rang the DVLA who didn’t think being marooned in a foreign country unable to get to your mail, counted as sufficient reason to not pay your car tax and told him that he may be investigated and fined. Great.

Then we tried to have the hire car picked up. Wow, talk about difficult. I was given the run around by apathetic, lackadaisical staff and on the fifth attempt got someone to agree to pick it up.

When they came for the it they tried to claim that we had scuffed an alloy wheel. Not so, as we hadn’t parked it anywhere with curbs. We told them that and also that we hadn’t been shown round the car beforehand or any note made of its condition. After much huffing the car was taken away. We weren’t charged for a wheel we didn’t damage but we were charged £58 for a pick up.

Welcome home.

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