A good trip

Pack, eat lunch, speed to the airport, arrive, start dragging cases
towards check-in.

Melanie falls off a kerb and badly wrenches her ankle. I think it’s
because she’s Jewish. The airport summons two firemen — what are
they going to do, throw water on it? They’re very helpful anyway. None
of us can tell whether it’s broken or not; Melanie decides to fly home
and get it sorted there, assuming she’s allowed. She gets wheeled
around the place VIP-stylee, Chris in tow. At the gate we blag
reserved seats for all seven of us at the front of the plane.

Back in the UK it’s cold and dark. Chef is the only one happy about
this.

(They didn’t charge us for the dent in the car.)

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