Things nearly got ugly today. The taxi was booked for 6.30 so I stood outside the hotel from 6.20 just in case it came early, which it didn’t. Actually by 6.45 it seemed to me it wouldn’t come at all, and I was in a panic, as the train was leaving at 6.56. Fortunately a knight rode past on a white steed just at that moment, and asked if everything was okay. I explained my problem, hoping he would put me on his steed and take me to the railway station, but instead, he told me to call 118118 and ask for help. What amazing services modern knights have at their disposal – I was asked what I needed, and before I could think of all the life-saving events I could request (such as a holiday in Paris), I told them I needed a taxi to the station, and to cut a long story extremely short, a taxi arrived within a few minutes, I paid the driver and walked to the ticket office, purchased a ticket, walked on to the train, and the doors closed. Phew. I looked for the lady selling coffees and croissants but she didn’t appear, so I caught up on my emails and learned how to play Sudoku in case it came in handy. It didn’t.
The Cavendish Hotel was everything I expected it to be, so I ironed my clothes, checked the programme (my first paper was at 2.30 that day), and had a cup of tea. My room had a stunning view of the sea and a verandah for sniffing at the sea air and taking photos from. Phew.
The next morning I walked along the foreshore before breakfast, but I wasn’t allowed on the pier. Apparently there weren’t enough staff to catch me if I fell.
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