I got up this morning to discover I can't remember where the Christmas cards I had for my family had been secreted away. I bought them earlier in the year and put them away where prying eyes and little hands couldn't find them. The trouble is my normally perfect memory can't remember where I hid them.
Christmas Day.
On Christmas morning, I got up early, around 8:45, and made my way downstairs to open Christmas presents with my mother. Imagine my surprise when I unwrapped my present and found a new external, writeable DVD drive to use with my ultrabook. I turned on my Ultrabook to test it out and discovered another present: a digital copy of 'The Lonely Planet, Guide to China' had downloaded itself to my Kindle library.
Mother, on the other hand, discovered presents for her under the tree, which included a nice pair of trousers and a beautiful jumper. She thanked me for my kind gifts, complimented me on my choice, and said how clever I was in getting the correct sizes for her. It, indeed, was a Christmas Miracle. Mum had chosen high-tech gifts for me that I wanted, and I had chosen clothes for her that she liked and fitted.
We soon set off for dinner with Karen, Brett and Holly. We arrived and were immediately forced to drink Bucks Fizz by our hosts Karen and Brett, whilst my niece, Holly, kept buzzing around demanding cuddles from her Uncle. We had a great dinner: turkey, gammon, sausages in soy and honey sauce with all the trimmings. After a few bottles of cider, the party games began.
Of course, Brett and I were teamed up against the Wicked Witches team (Holly, Jean and Shireen), whilst Karen refereed and showed total bias to the girl's team. Amazingly, Brett and I overcame the numbers and bias of the referee to win the quiz and the game of 'Call My Bluff'. We were entertained still further by the magic circle's newest member, 'The Amazing Hollyuisionist'. Holly entertained us with magical moving wands, cup and ball tricks and incredible feats of mental prediction by correctly predicting the numbers on hidden dice every time. She will, of course, soon be replacing Dynamo on television with her brand of Hollyuisionism.
A warm mug of mulled cider put a nice warm glow in me and helped me off to sleep for the night before tomorrow's onward journey.
Boxing Day.
On Boxing Day morning, I woke to be forced by my sister to eat a cooked breakfast of bacon, fried potatoes, tomatoes, sausages and toast. Not content, Brett went out and fried up the eggs my sister Karen had forgotten and added them to my breakfast plate. Cheers, Brett. They finished the breakfast off.
Many hours later, after the ladies of the house had finished putting on their war paint, we all climbed into Brett's car to drive to Pulborough in Sussex for Boxing Day with Ken, Armelle and their family. We were soon turned back from our route when the main A27 was blocked entirely. Brett showed off his local knowledge and rerouted us without the help of a GPS and managed to avoid floods, and many crashed or overturned cars. He soon got us back on route.
We arrived at Ken and Armelle's home and were warmly greeted by Ken, Armelle, Pierre, Antoine, and Armelle's parents, Jean Louis and Marguerite. Jean Louis and Marguerite had arrived from France a few days earlier and were dealing remarkably well with the power outage that had greeted them on their arrival. Our host, Ken, lived up to his Rambo image and plugged in a generator to supply us with enough electric power to cook us a wonderful dinner. I am sure Rambo would have done it by rubbing sticks together to raise a fire, but Ken is a more modern-day man who buckles his swash in a much more advanced way. Well done, Ken, you provided us with fire to keep us warm and feed us.
So, with Ken and Armelle providing us with a lovely dinner, it was the turn of Jean Louis and Marguerite to entertain us. I sat around a large dining table and was regaled by stories of their travels. If there is one thing that keeps my attention well, it is people's tales of intrepid journeys, courageous stories of doing and dare, with humorous anecdotes about people they have met and of places they have been. I found that I had travelled on my trip to the national parks and monuments of the USA and many places they had previously been to and found their stories very interesting. I hope we can one day meet again and share more of their travelling adventures. I would only be too happy to share my tales of a travelling Gooner with them.
After dinner and many stories, we left Ken, Armelle, Jean Louis, Margueritte, Antoine, Pierre and Lizzy behind us as we ventured back out into the rising floodwaters and dangerous roads on our journey back through Sussex to Hampshire. Brett steered us manfully through everything that Mother Nature could throw at us, and we were soon back at Karen and Brett's house in Cosham. Mother and I soon transferred to my Mercedes Benz, a 2-seat sports car, for the short, high-speed dash back to Fareham.
The Christmas break was rounded off nicely. I sat at home in the warm, watching MOTD and witnessing the mighty Arsenal hammer West Ham into submission to return to the top of the premier league. This travelling Gooner has returned safely from his Christmas travels and will now be a happy Gooner, at least until the next game.