I started writing this post on Friday 22nd Oct; four days after I got back from Glasgow. It was only on the Thursday did I start to feel like I was actually the right way round after my trip and the madness that it involved. Let me start at the beginning.
I woke up on Monday night (11th) into Tuesday morning with horrendous stomach cramps. "On no!", I thought, "I've got gastro". It's been doing the rounds here and I was nervous that I would catch it, and that it would affect all my travel plans. I worked out the likely scenario in my head; 48hrs: that would take me up to late Wednesday night and I would be absolutely fine by Thursday morning and my trip would be unaffected. Phew. Of course, it didn't quite go accordingly. I spent the next three days in and out of bed, not sleeping particularly well, but also not experiencing the full overload that gastro usually brings. I just felt absolutely washed out. Not the idea preparations for my first solo trip in six years.
Thursday morning rolled round and despite the week I'd had, I was ready. Poor William got dragged out of bed at 5.30am so that Iain could drop me at the airport for my 7am flight. I got up to Paris and headed out of Orly to get the shuttle to CDG to find that now the shuttle doesn't exist! Brilliant. I had to, therefore, get a bus into central Paris then take the RER train out to CGD. It was a bit of a faff but with seven hours to kill, it was actually a welcome break from sitting around in airports. I was actually kicking myself once I'd safely boarded the RER though, as I realised how easy it was to get to CDG and that I should've just stayed in Paris for a couple of hours and done a wee bit of sightseeing / GF-ing. I think that, because I hadn't originally had that in the plans for the day, it didn't even dawn on my that it was a possibility. I just had one thing in my head: make your connection. So I arrived at CDG around 10.30am, people watched outside for a while (mask-free: ahhhhhhh) then headed through security to grab lunch and settle in for a couple of hours with my book. The whole thing was actually pretty straightforward and I boarded my flight on time and headed for the Motherland. I took loads of photos of my journey to send to William and he was apparently pumped to see them:
Big Alg was ready and waiting for me at the pick up zone when I landed and before I knew it, I was back at Jinty's, drinking tea and blethering with her and Tricia. Standard. Alg then dropped me round at Clare and Joe's and was I able to unpack and settle in for the weekend. Joe had made a brilliant roast pork dinner and we got on the wine. Again; standard! We certainly set our stall out for the weekend with a 2.30am bedtime. Christ.
Despite the late shift the night before, Friday ended up being a reasonably productive day. I cleared the kitchen, made food, got my rehab done and Joe and I ran errands first at the Fort, then at the bank at Barrachnie. The day started to run away from us and it suddenly was time to get back to their house to start getting ready for the party. Jinty came down to Clare's too and it meant we could all get ready together. It was a really great atmosphere and we got stuck into the fizz while we did our nails, make up and put our gladrags on.
We arrived at the Bowling Club just after 7pm and it was game on: full noise socialising! I barely spoke to Clare, Joe, Jinty or Algy for the whole night as the five of us floated around the room catching up with family and old friends, meeting new people and going hard on the bar. It was a really, really great night and I'm so delighted that I made it home for it. It was particularly great to see Lorraine, Rosie & Wullie, Colin & Martine and Steven. Although the club closed at about 12 or 1 (?!), a squad of us ended up back at Joe and Clare's place where the bevvy continued to flow at an unprecedented rate while the music was at full dig and the disco balls were providing just the right ambience. Kid Kreole & The Coconut's "Annie, I'm Not Your Daddy" will be forever etched into my mind when I think of that after-party. I think I was after 4.30am when I finally fell into bed.
As you'd imagine, Saturday was an extremely slow affair. I managed to get out for a much needed walk down to Jinty's in the late afternoon and Clare and Joe swung past to pick me on their way back up from collecting all the presents from the club. Alg was nowhere to be seen as he died a slow death in his bed all day. I was absolutely delighted when Clare and Joe suggested that we just get a takeaway for dinner. And even better to get a GF Chinese meal from a place in Baillieston. That plus Strictly. Exactly what I needed. I could barely keep my eyes open at 11pm so retired for the evening. Waaaay earlier than my hosts! - They're next level!
On Sunday, I managed to escape the family bubble, briefly, with, quite literally, a hop, skip and a jump across the road to see Gail for a couple of hours. It was great to catch up, especially as I hadn't managed to see her when I was back in the summer. It was also really cool to just head round for a cup of tea and to see her full gang. You can't put a price on old friendships like that. Later on, Clare and I went a spin out to Lanarkshire as she needed to drop some things at her colleague's house to do with her retirement presentation. Quite unbelievably, the woman lived in a street called, simply, Glen Noble (?!), in a village called Cleland. You honestly couldn't make it up.
Jinty came round for dinner and we sat and drank wine whilst unpicking all the fun from Friday night again. Mum finally managed to get a taxi around midnight and Clare, Joe and I sat blethering for another couple of hours. Stupidly, I agreed to let Clare get all the old photos out - at 3am - and it was 6am by the time I called time on the madness and went to bed. I honestly felt like I'd been sucked into a black hole and that everyone around me was operating in a micro time zone. Like I said about, it took me until Thursday to come right again. Almost like bloomin' jet lag!
It goes without saying that after such a massive weekend, my travel back to France was actually a bit of a mission. Thankfully, the flights and the connection were fine but operating on such little sleep over the previous four nights meant I was making mistakes so ended up a bit stressed. Within a short 40min window at Edinburgh Airport I'd managed to get more than half of my toiletries confiscated, spill water all through my backpack (and laptop), and find out that there are no ATMs in the entire building, meaning I was unable to activate the HBOS bank card that I've been trying to get activated since June! What a day. No matter, I landed at Pau slightly early and my boys arrived to pick me up just going on 10.30pm. William was absolutely exhausted but my heart was utterly bursting seeing and feeling how much he'd missed me. We were home in 15mins and it was straight up to his room for a big snuggle. Oh, how it's good to be home.
L. ;-)
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