7 hours… 

There’s nothing like the feeling you get when arriving at your destination…. But the trick is to enjoy the journey, however long it takes and no matter how many times you have to stop or slow down
7 hours of driving…. 
7 hours, 3 movies on the boys’ tv’s – how to train your dragon, Jonny English and Wreckit Ralph – audio only for me of course… 
7 hours, 2 stops.. One for coffee and comfort, one to handover the forgotten passport to james (travelling from

London to Paris unexpectedly via Bristol!) and for Grandad to be handed over to us from family Amey’s car..
7 hours, driving almost blind by the low sun not being able to see the road ahead or inky black, pitch black, Cornish darkness… Trusting the road ahead continued even though I couldn’t see it

7 hours, 2 traffic jams – broken down Lorry on the m42 and rush hour over the Bristol bridge..at least we got to count the cars!

7 hours, one box of breadsticks for tom, one bag of gluten free pretzels for willy, one packet of giant rice cakes, a tub of sliced Apple, one of grapes and one berries, one packet of wiggly worms gone in 2 minutes and 2 fun size fudges… And those were just the snacks I brought and not the ones I bought… Eaten by my bottomless pits of sons… Don’t mention the crumbs to Mr OCD (they will be hidden by the sand!)
7 hours, driving, numb bum
7 hours, driving, dry eyes
7 hours, took longer than expected… But felt less than anticipated 
7 hours after leaving Yorkshire we arrive in Rock… And it is like coming home. Bliss. I love it here. So grateful for generous parents in law… I love it here. The darkness. The smell of the sea. The anticipation of the first surf. 
7 hours sleep before the new day starts!
  

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