15th March 2018

The adult members of the Rothwell and Braunstone branches of the family, along with Jamie, thoroughly enjoyed the Murder Mystery weekend in Grantham that I had gifted them for Christmas. Unfortunately, Ashton was unable to accompany Jamie, having become the latest victim of the flu virus. She spent a week in bed back at her parents’ home in  Daventry.

Sue and I looked after Lucas, Ellis, and Mia over the weekend, although I managed to sneak away on Saturday afternoon to the Angel to witness a disheartening defeat by England rugby at the hands of a far superior Scotland. I suspect no lessons will be learned from this loss, and next up is France!

On the day we took charge of the grandchildren and dog, Sue and I both had dental appointments. My broken tooth was assessed and deemed to require a crown, and during Sue’s check-up at a different dentist, she was informed she also needed one. It was an unfortunate coincidence, as at £244 per crown, we truly were King and Queen for the day! With my 65th birthday approaching, it seems fitting that my first month’s pension will be going straight back into the Government coffers. Both crowns were scheduled to be fitted after our return from Macedonia.

After the 24th of February, the weather took a turn for the worse, with fierce frosts and biting cold winds from the east. Much of the country was blanketed in snow, and repeated media warnings of heavy snow with a “danger to life” were broadcast. Harborough, however, seemed to escape the worst of it, though keeping the wood burner stoked became a constant chore to ward off the chill. I did manage to take advantage of a huge mound of leaf compost left by the Council at my Welland Park allotment. Over several days, I mulched all the fruit and vines, dug some into the raised beds at home, and then transferred 12 dustbin loads to my vegetable allotment on Douglas Drive. Unfortunately, the frost had turned the soil rock hard, so I scattered it across the surface, ready for a warmer day.

On 1st March (white rabbits!), Sue and I woke to a steady fall of snow, none of which had been forecast! We were scheduled to fly from Stansted at 4:30 pm to Thessaloniki, expecting to leave for the airport around midday. However, we reviewed our plans and decided to set off straight after breakfast at 8:15 am. It turned out to be a wise decision. The snow quickly turned into a blizzard, and we only just made it out of Harborough to the A14, passing several abandoned vehicles along the way, as we crawled through the worsening conditions.

Despite hearing on the radio about widespread chaos across the country, with train and bus cancellations and, more worryingly, a growing list of closed airports, our journey was relatively straightforward, with no delays. The A14 and M11 were unusually quiet, as most people seemed to have heeded the warnings and stayed at home. For most of our route, the snow held off, and there was only a light covering in the surrounding countryside the further south we went. We arrived at Stansted far too early, so we stopped at a nearby service area on the M11 for a leisurely lunch and a rest before heading to the car park and catching the shuttle bus to Departures.

After checking in, we made sure to be first in the queue at the departure gate. Annoyingly, with just 30 minutes to go, an announcement informed us that the gate had been changed. This led to a mad dash to the other end of the airport alongside our fellow passengers. Although we boarded the plane only slightly late, we missed our air slot and ended up sitting on the runway for two hours before finally taking off. Despite the delay, we considered ourselves lucky, as the list of cancelled flights was growing rapidly. Heavy snow was falling as we took off.

We landed in Thessaloniki just before midnight (local time) and waited in the Arrivals Hall for our pre-booked transfer. As the hall gradually emptied of passengers, I rang the number included in a text message I received as we landed. It was from the transfer company, informing me that our driver was waiting. After a somewhat chaotic conversation with a flustered Greek representative, I discovered that he somehow thought we were at Athens Airport and that someone named Thompson had already been picked up in our place. Once I clarified that we were in Thessaloniki and I am called Palmer, he assured me our driver would arrive within half an hour. Ten minutes later, he appeared. It seems our two-hour delay had shifted the schedule on his iPad spreadsheet to the following day, and this oversight had gone unnoticed. We were too tired to care and just wanted to get to the hotel. His repeated apologies stretched my patience, but eventually, we arrived and gratefully collapsed into bed. (Our return transfer would bring another problem, but that’s a story for later in the blog.)

Day One: Our hotel, the Ilisia, was chosen for its central location near the attractions located along Egnatia, one of the Roman Empire’s most important roads, plus the fact that it included breakfast. The facilities were basic, the room was comfortable, though the shower was rather small.

We had done some prior research about what to do in Thessaloniki, but hadn’t finalised how we would get around. Hiring a car was quickly ruled out, as parking seemed to be a nightmare, and this proved entirely correct. After a substantial breakfast, we set off to find a Tourist Information office. We scoured the harbour, the train station, and the bus terminus without success. Even an inquiry at the concierge desk of an international hotel proved fruitless.

To our surprise, when we returned to our modest hotel, the receptionist produced some brochures. From these, we chose a trip to visit some monasteries, and he kindly called the tourism company for us. He also provided instructions and a map to help us locate their office so we could book the tours in person. After a short walk, we soon found the office and successfully booked three trips.

With our activities set for the coming days, we set out to find Thessaloniki’s iconic White Tower. On arrival, it appeared small from the outside but is a veritable ‘Tardis’ within. The tower houses a museum that details the city’s history and development across five well-curated floors. We found it fascinating and were pleased to find that the ticket office provided a device offering English commentary on the displays. From the battlements, we enjoyed an excellent panoramic view of the city, spotting many of the historical sites mentioned during the audio tour. The White Tower is truly worth a visit!

Feeling peckish, we walked around half a mile to the Skyline Tower for lunch. The restaurant, which rotates 360 degrees over the course of an hour, offers yet another fantastic view of the city. We discovered that when you order food and drinks, it’s quite customary to receive a free bottle of water, bread, and dessert. This generous practice quickly became something we took into account during our meals throughout the week, as what might seem like a light snack can often turn into a rather substantial feast!

Afterwards, we enjoyed a leisurely wander through the backstreets and alleyways of this bustling city, eventually stopping for our evening meal at a small restaurant conveniently located next to our hotel. Tired after our hike around the city, we slept soundly that night.

DAY TWO: Today, we had booked a historical tour of the ancient cities of Pella and Vergina, which meant an early breakfast followed by a short walk to the central square to meet our transport. True to schedule, our minibus arrived promptly at 8:15 am.

After our guide introduced himself, we then drove a short distance along Egnatia to pick up another couple from their hotel who hailed from Torquay. It was a lovely, sunny, and warm day, perfect for exploring ancient ruins. We chatted among ourselves and admired the views as the landscape transitioned from a bustling city to coastal views and eventually to open countryside, framed by snow-capped mountains in the distance.

After an hour, we arrived in Pella. This now-ruined city was once the birthplace of Alexander the Great and housed the palace of his father, Philip II, who constructed the city on a grid plan. Once situated on the coast as a significant port of the ancient world, Pella is now several miles inland, as the bay has since silted up.

Although much of the site remains to be excavated, what has been uncovered is truly impressive. The museum within the site houses superb artefacts, most notably, stunningly intricate golden oak leaf crowns found within the excavated graves, which highlight the city’s former affluence.

Thessaloniki itself takes its name from Princess Thessaloniki of Macedon, the half-sister of Alexander the Great.

After thoroughly exploring the site and museum, we boarded our minibus and travelled the 15 miles to Vergina, best known as the site of ancient Aigai, the first capital of Macedon. This is a site of immense historical importance as it contains several burial mounds, including one that houses the tomb of Philip II. While many of the other tombs had been looted, Philip’s tomb remained undisturbed and, much like Tutankhamun’s, still contained all its original artefacts.

Returning to the hotel, we rested our legs before enjoying our evening meal at the same restaurant as on the previous night.

DAY THREE: It was another early start, and the weather was once again perfect for exploring the mountains and discovering some truly unique monasteries. Our destination for the day was Meteora, where we would visit both female and male monasteries.

Our tour group was much larger today, necessitating a coach to accommodate everyone. We were the only Brits on board, alongside a single American traveller. However, the guide was excellent, ensuring everything said in Greek was also translated into English.

The journey took us past the majestic Mount Olympus, its snow-capped peaks shrouded in clouds. We visited this legendary mountain over 30 years ago and still cherish fond memories so central to Greek history and mythology.

After a couple of hours of travelling, we stopped at a café for refreshments. Unfortunately, Sue broke her sunglasses during a quick visit to the toilets. Peculiarly, the café had a rack of sunglasses for sale, and she was able to buy a replacement pair.

Another hour of travelling eventually brought us to Meteora, famed for its ancient monasteries perched atop towering rock formations. Once, there were many more monasteries here, but several were destroyed in antiquity by Muslim forces. The remaining ones likely survived due to their inaccessibility.

Our first stop was at a small female monastery. Upon entering, we noticed that the nuns operated a little shop just inside the entrance, which, judging by the steady stream of visitors, must be a lucrative source of revenue. Sue chose to contribute to their earnings by purchasing a lovely decoration for our Christmas tree.

Despite wearing slacks, Sue was required to cover her legs with a wrap-around skirt provided at the entrance. Unlike the locals, we, as foreigners, had to pay a fee. However, the breathtaking views from the monastery more than justified the cost, and I can agree that the Greeks should not have to pay to experience their own history.

Moving on, we next visited a male monastery after a short trip in the coach. We paused the journey to scramble up one of the many rock towers, taking the opportunity to capture some photos of the unique surrounding vista.

 Whereas at the female monastery, there was no climbing required to enter its inner sanctuary, here, after disembarking the coach, our next adventure involved a steep and strenuous climb up a winding staircase that clung precariously to the rock upon which the religious building was seated.

This monastery was much larger and housed some beautiful ancient tapestries within its church. In ancient times, the original method of entry was via a windlass and rope, which raised a box from several hundred feet below. Although this method is still in use today, it is now only employed for the transport of goods, with the windlass having been replaced by an electric motor. As there was much to explore, we tried to explore as much as possible on our wander around the building. Eventually, our guide found us inside the church and gave us a detailed description of the tapestries, explaining that his PhD on the Byzantine period included several of the tapestries we were admiring. It seems that every detail within them was symbolic, and it was fascinating to have them explained.

With our visit eventually completed, we boarded the coach for lunch in a small town located below these impressive rock towers. It was delightful that from our dining table, we could see the little caves that the original hermits had carved out of the rock so long ago.

On our return, we passed a Syrian refugee camp located in a particularly isolated and seemingly inhospitable part of the country, sited next to some ancient quarries. Though I had only the briefest of glimpses, I could see that they were living in new, purpose-built portacabins. Each had a solar panel on the roof, and there was no fencing evident; they seemed to be able to freely go wherever they liked. However, as we drove on, there were no other settlements nearby, just a few isolated farmsteads. The camp appeared to be populated by women, as I could only see fully garbed figures in black moving between the units. It begged the question, where were the men? With another short stop for coffee and a toilet break, we arrived back in Thessaloniki quite late in the evening. Feeling rather tired, we opted to eat out in a nearby restaurant by the harbour before retiring to bed.

DAY FOUR: While returning from Meteora, our guide informed us that the tourist company had cancelled our trip planned for a couple of days hence. We were expecting to visit a lake and enjoy a boat trip to see the flora and fauna along its shores. However, it seems that the water level was too high, and no boats were venturing out. So, after breakfast, we made our way to the Ammon Express offices to discuss our options. After some deliberation, we decided that a refund was the only viable option, as our remaining time in Macedonia was limited, and the only option was a visit to some thermal pools, and we had no swimsuits with us.

During the rest of the morning, we caught the city hop-on-hop-off tour bus, which began its route next to the White Tower. It is a convenient way to see the sights of the city, though we didn’t hop off and completed a full circuit. As we arrived back at the hotel, it began to rain. We took lunch in the restaurant next to the hotel, watching the rain get increasingly heavier. Satiated, we spent the next few hours in our hotel room, Sue read a book, and I listened to HFM (the local radio station in Market Harborough) on my mobile phone and caught up with local news.

As it began to get dark, the rain ceased, and we decided to visit the Thessaloniki Liverpool Supporters Bar that we had discovered a few nights prior. However, on arrival, it was shut.

Making our way back to the hotel, we came across a bar called ‘Rehab’. It turned out to be a rugby bar! After ordering drinks, I got chatting to the barman, who happened to be 37 years old and played fullback for the local side. Interestingly, he explained why the bar was called ‘Rehab’; Macedonia doesn’t have many clubs, but several years ago, they were offered financial support from the RFU. To qualify, they needed to have 20 playing clubs (a viable league), so in typical Greek fashion, they made up the shortfall with phantom clubs. Inevitably, they were caught out and ejected from the RFU fold and are now officially seeking rehabilitation. I suppose you can’t blame them, it is the Greek way, live for today and hang the consequences. It is plain to see that this attitude manifests itself in every facet of life. Egnatia is filled at all times of day and night with myriads of smartly dressed locals scurrying along the pavement, carrying several bags of items newly purchased from the hundreds of clothes outlets along its length. As evening descends, the bars, cafes, and restaurants become filled to bursting with locals intent on eating and engaged in pleasant conversation. And the country is supposedly broke.

DAY FIVE: Today, we had a late breakfast and, under cloudy skies, took a walk to Thessaloniki Castle, which is perched atop a nearby hill, or so we thought. When we reached what we thought was our goal, we discovered that it was an optical illusion;  it was standing proud on an even higher hill, half a mile away. It was a steep climb, and we were glad of the cloud cover, preventing the sun from heating our already sweaty bodies. As if by magic, just as we reached the main gate, the sun made its appearance.

During our ascent, Sue unfortunately somehow, lost her new sunglasses. Despite a thorough search and a backtrack, they remained lost.

Entrance to the castle, which was recently used as a prison, is free. Not even we foreigners had to pay a fee. The inside of the castle has a sinister atmosphere, invoking thoughts of pain and torture from times gone by, but offers superb views from the ramparts of the city below. I found the isolation cells particularly spooky and couldn’t possibly imagine being locked away there for any length of time.

Escaping the prison, we had drinks at a small bar by its main gate before heading back down the hill towards the hustle and bustle of the city. We stopped briefly for a rest on a bench next to the castle’s perimeter wall, where a Greek gentleman, who had obviously finished his shopping, kindly offered us a couple of oranges. He was carrying groceries up the hill to his home. Though he didn’t speak English, we thanked him, peeled the fruit, and savoured it as we watched him continue on his way. The fruit was so refreshing!

Once we found Egnatia again, Sue spotted some African vendors selling sunglasses, and after a bit of haggling, she purchased another pair. A little further down the street, she bought some nuts from a market stall to nibble while we rested, soaking up the sun on a bench. After we had returned to our hotel room, we heard a growing racket from the street outside. It was a demonstration marching up Egnatia, led by the K.K.E. (Communist Party).

Later, as we searched for a restaurant for our evening meal, we again stumbled upon the K.K.E. holding a rally in the central square. We joined the large crowd standing around, mingling like locals and listened to speeches from the platform, oblivious to what was being said. A TV crew were there filming the event, so I guess there was a good chance that we might have been on Greek television! It was our first political event, and it felt more like a visit to the circus. Flags were waving, fast food was being sold among the crowd, and most people seemed more interested in chatting with each other, ignoring what the ‘main man’ was saying.

As we left the square, we spotted a small group of riot police hidden around a corner. I asked them what the rally was about, and they shrugged, saying it was just communists complaining about America and NATO. They didn’t seem to be expecting any trouble.

We found a restaurant and, while eating, we noticed that the communists had peacefully ended their rally and were trickling past in ones and twos, their flags now carefully furled as they made their way home. Maybe to a meal of beetroot and cabbage, washed down with Greek vodka.

DAY SIX:  After another late breakfast, we ventured outside to find it already hot and sunny. The morning was spent visiting the Archaeological Museum near the Skyline Tower. The Greeks certainly have an abundance of artefacts, and I suspect many more are stored in warehouses all over the country, packed to the ceiling with ancient trinkets. Lord Elgin helped out years ago, but this museum must have the pick of what he didn’t take, housing a comprehensive collection of items that are very well displayed. It takes quite some time to work your way through the exhibits, and if you read every description, you’d probably wear away several layers of retina. The museum is very popular with school groups. I lost Sue among the exhibits for about 45 minutes, eventually finding her in the sarcophagus display. I may have passed her a few times before I noticed movement.

For a lighter activity, we boarded the pirate ship moored next to the White Tower. We’d passed it several times during the week, but this time we were going to sail on it. We shuffled up the gangplank past a fierce-looking, parrotless Black Beard. Surprisingly, passage on the ship is free, but refreshments are sold at appropriately inflated prices. Our voyage lasted precisely half an hour, with just one circuit around the bay. We thankfully engaged no one in battle and luckily weren’t sunk by any rival privateer.  However, it was nice to see Thessaloniki from a different perspective.

On our return to the hotel, we discovered the ruins of Gallius’s palace, tucked away amidst the apartment blocks of the city. It was fascinating to see such an ancient historic site nestled so peacefully among the modern surroundings of a busy urban zone. The ruins were a stark reminder of Thessaloniki’s long and complex past, and it wasn’t difficult to imagine what life might have been like here centuries ago. After a cursory exploration of the site, we headed back to the hotel to rest and reflect on the day’s adventures.

While Sue lay on the bed and read her book, I took to the streets, determined to follow the ancient castle walls as far as I could and uncover other archaeological sites along the way. Unfortunately, I found much of the wall in poor condition, and there isn’t a clear or well-maintained path to follow. I think it’s a huge missed opportunity for the city, as it could offer another intriguing route for tourists at very little cost. There are a few scattered information boards, but the path I followed felt scruffy and unkempt. With a bit of effort, it could easily be spruced up to provide a better experience. Despite this, I enjoyed the hour I spent immersing myself in the city.

That evening, we returned to the Skyline Tower for a meal. A piano player was employed to entertain the diners. And, as expected, Thessaloniki’s nightlife was in full swing with the streets and restaurants crammed with Greeks. The panoramic views of the city from our rotating perch were breathtaking, and as we dined, enjoying the music, it seemed a perfect way to end the day.

DAY SEVEN: It was raining while we had a very late breakfast, but as luck would have it, once we had packed our suitcases in preparation for departure, the sun came out to welcome us. We seized the opportunity and headed out for a bit of shopping. Sue bought a pair of slacks from a stall at the open-air market off Egnatia, perfect for her Tai Chi classes in her U3A group back in Harborough, and I kept my wallet firmly in my pocket.

Returning to the hotel, we checked out, stored our luggage in reception, and then found a sunny spot near the central square for lunch at a small cafe.

Afterwards, while relaxing on a bench in the square and soaking up the sun for one last time, Sue noticed a man acting rather suspiciously near a small group of Indians/Pakistanis. I didn’t think much of it at first, but he seemed quite wary of our presence. Not long after, the group surprised us by producing a cricket bat and began playing the game between two lampposts. At this point, the dubious character began a conversation with a young Greek-looking lad on a nearby patch of grass and handed him a bag. Absorbed in what was turning out to be an excellent game of cricket, suddenly, several police officers arrived and began searching the area, lifting manhole covers, checking bins and searching in the long grass.

The man seemed to join the game but quickly moved to the far side of the square, away from the police search. I don’t think the players knew him. Then, Sue pointed out that the young lad was now handcuffed and being led away in a police van. It was clearly drug-related, and while we should have been good citizens and informed the officer around us that the ‘pretend’ cricketer was linked to the arrested lad, we had a flight to catch and didn’t want to risk missing it. We quietly made our way out of the square, none the wiser as to what happened next.

In the photo below, the man sitting down was the drug dealer, watching the cricket.

We took one last opportunity to explore Thessaloniki by visiting one of the many churches on our way back to the hotel.

Our taxi pick-up was scheduled for 6:30 pm. I received a confirmation text about 15 minutes before the scheduled time, and then at exactly 6:30 pm, the driver called to let us know he was just four minutes away. A few minutes later, a taxi arrived, and the driver asked, “Airport?” I confirmed, “Yes,” and asked if it was for Palmer, to which he replied, “Yes, airport.”

We got in, but something felt wrong as we drove away. I asked the driver if he knew I had already paid for the taxi. He confirmed, “Yes,” but I repeated, “I am not paying YOU for this taxi.” He stopped the car. He obviously didn’t have a great deal of English. I called the number of the driver who had contacted me earlier and explained the situation, then handed the phone to our present driver so they could communicate. As we got out of the taxi, he drove off with a new fare, leaving us confused and stranded by the roadside.

I quickly rang the transfer number I had used on our arrival at the airport, but when I was asked where we were, I had to admit I didn’t know. Fortunately, I managed to hand my phone to an elderly lady who was crossing the road. Though she

didn’t speak English, but she managed to explain our location. Just then, our taxi arrived, flashing its lights. It seems he had been caught in a diversion and was late on his way to our hotel when he stumbled upon us. How incredibly lucky is that!

The rest of the journey home was thankfully, relatively uneventful, and we finally arrived in Harborough at 2 am to a very chilly house.

Reflections on Thessaloniki: The Greeks, and particularly the people of Thessaloniki, are undoubtedly a warm and friendly bunch. They are quick to apologise when things aren’t quite right and are invariably helpful. Shopping seems to be a favourite pastime, and people are generally smartly dressed. Coffee, meanwhile, is treated with the utmost seriousness. In the late afternoon, it can be a real challenge to find a seat in one of the many cafés, some of which even advertise a “Happy Hour” for coffee. The same applies in the evening: if you wish to dine in one of the countless restaurants, it’s best not to leave it too late, or you may well be disappointed. After dinner, the city’s residents flock to the numerous bars to drink and talk well into the night, often until two in the morning.

Given Greece’s economic difficulties and its dependence on reluctant EU support, the people of Thessaloniki appear to take their circumstances in their stride. They seem largely content, with the Communist K.K.E. being one of the few groups openly expressing concern about the future. Conversations with hotel, restaurant, and bar staff revealed that many juggle more than one job. It is common to hear, “Today I’m a waiter, tomorrow I drive a taxi, and the day after I’ll be working in a hotel.” This flexibility is clearly a way of coping with a tough economic climate, and perhaps also a way of sidestepping taxes by living a cash-in-hand lifestyle.

It is evident that while the Greek economy faces real challenges, the people of Thessaloniki remain resilient and, despite the hardships, seem to live life with remarkable joy.

Membership of the EU appears to have provided the Greeks with a framework that enables them to maintain a lifestyle which might otherwise be unsustainable. They accept EU rules only to the extent that it suits them. For example, as we disembarked the plane, the steward reminded passengers that smoking was prohibited inside the terminal. Yet in every café and bar we visited in Thessaloniki, people smoked freely, seemingly unconcerned, or wilfully ignoring, the Europe-wide ban on this antisocial habit. This illustrates a broader tendency to push the limits in order to achieve or preserve what they want, even if it means bending the rules. The story of the Greek RFU obtaining funding through a ‘little white lie’ exemplifies this willingness to stretch credibility. While it may appear harmless in the short term, I fear it could one day have unpleasant consequences, and the Greeks may ultimately have only themselves to blame.

Thessaloniki is, however, a marvellous destination for a week-long visit, especially for anyone with an interest in history, archaeology, and Greek cuisine, all set within a lively, festive atmosphere. If you are planning a trip, I would recommend going sooner rather than later, before the economic challenges truly begin to take their toll.

Family News: While we were enjoying our time in Macedonia, we became increasingly concerned about Charlotte. We keep in touch via a family Messenger group, and from the frequency and tone of her posts, it was clear she was in severe pain from a slipped disc. To make matters worse, both Ellis and Lucas were also unwell, Ellis with tonsillitis and Lucas with a stomach bug. Suraj was doing his best to hold everything together, taking time off work, but then coming under pressure from his bosses about his absence. Charlotte was prescribed seven different medications, including morphine, which was worrying in itself as it showed just how severe her pain was. Even with the medication, there were times when the pain became unbearable, leaving her in tears. No position, sitting, lying, or standing, seemed to bring any relief. It has been a truly miserable ordeal, and Sue and I are doing what we can to help.

On 13th March, things became even more difficult. In the early hours, Suraj had to rush Ellis to the hospital with a high temperature and a serious infection in his ‘nether regions’. He was admitted, while Charlotte, weakened by her own pain, had to remain at home. When Sue and I heard what had happened, we collected Charlotte and brought her home to Willow Bank to give Suraj a break so he could rest. We then stayed with Ellis until he was stabilised and discharged later that day.

On the 15th, we visited Rothwell again. Sue looked after the boys, still poorly and out of school, while I accompanied Charlotte to her doctor’s appointment. I was keen to hear more about her diagnosis and to press for an early MRI scan. I am not entirely convinced that a herniated (slipped) disc is the only explanation; I suspect Spondylolisthesis should also be considered. The doctor listened carefully, increased Charlotte’s painkillers to a stronger dose, and promised to push for an early scan. By that afternoon, Charlotte had an MRI appointment for the 7th of April. I suggested she ring the hospital regularly to check for cancellations, in the hope of being seen sooner. Fingers crossed.

The medical challenges in the family seem relentless. Sarah has an appointment for laser treatment on ingrowing eyelashes, which have been causing her severe irritation. I had never heard of this condition before, but apparently, it is not uncommon for eyelashes to occasionally grow inwards. Adding to the Braunstone household’s woes, Lee, who is rarely ill, has also succumbed to tonsillitis. For once, it seems that Mia is the healthiest one of the lot!

There is, at least, some brighter news. Suraj and Sarah have both secured new jobs. Suraj remains within the NHS but has moved into IT security, while Sarah has successfully obtained her current seconded post following a competitive interview.

Jamie, meanwhile, is having fun with his very noisy quad bike, which now lives in our garage. Earlier this month, he had to recharge the battery of his Aston Martin, having left it unused over winter. The car’s security and engine management systems drain a significant amount of power from its two batteries, so he has now learnt that trickle charging is essential. He and Ashton have also booked a holiday in Rhodes for April. Last night, they invited us round for dinner, and Jamie produced an excellent meal of minted lamb chops with mash and kale, very tasty indeed.

Yesterday morning, Sarah dropped Mia off at Willow Bank before heading to work in Northampton. Sue went to the cinema and later visited Charlotte, while I took Mia for lunch at Bridge 61 at Foxton Locks. Afterwards, we popped in to see Peter, who had just returned from six months in New Zealand, and he joined us on our walk home after a coffee and a chat. On the way back, we paused at the Coach and Horses for a few refreshments. Just as we settled down, Sarah rang to say she had finished work and was ready to collect her little doggy. She arrived about ten minutes later to pick Mia up.