Much of Friday (5th April) was taken up with issues concerning our little friend.

Moi?

Oui, toi.

J’ai presque pas bougé  – I hardly moved!

YOU didn’t, but we did a lot of running around for you.

Oh, how kind!

Hmm …. Anyone who believes in European co-operation / standardisation should try taxing a British car insured in France. It can’t be done! Anyway, we took her over the road to a nearby service and MoT centre and by 3pm that was all sorted. So now we needed the tax which was nearly a week overdue. Armed with the renewal notice, a perfectly valid, but French, insurance certificate, and the newly-acquired MoT we set off, chauffeured by Philip, to a Post Office not too far away, but not the nearest, where the garage man had told us they might not be as nit-picky as some other places. But no! The man behind the glass explained that by law the car must be taxed and insured in the same country.

(Why haven’t we imported her to France by now? Well, we understood we couldn’t do that till we had evidence of permanent residence in France for 6 months. That target has only just been reached.)

So how to get insurance, including the certificate at 4pm on a Friday afternoon? We heard there was a branch of Swinton in Kinsgton. We rang up and were told they were open till 5.30, and they would be able to insure the car. We put the postcode into Philip’s satnav and thought we had plenty of time…

Goodness knows why, but the crazy gadget took us through very slow moving traffic to the WRONG SIDE OF THE RIVER! Returning at the same speed seemed unwise, so on Kingston Bridge we got out and walked, eventually finding Swinton’s place (hiding under scaffolding) about half an hour after we had first driven straight past it!

Basic insurance turned out to be more expensive than comprehensive! But the nice lady worked beyond closing time to get the job done and we came away with only one or two fewer sheets of A4  than when we opened a French bank account; but it included a BRITISH insurance certificate!

That evening we were to have an early birthday dinner;  there was a rich choice of restaurants, so because it was unusual, I chose German. There were lots of beers in huge tankards and stone jars, but wine as well, and the menu seemed to be ‘echt Deutsch’ A good time was had by all:

 

except, perhaps by Philip, who really wasn’t well and left early.

Saturday (6th): Philip wasn’t well enough to go to his conference as planned, and Christine showed signs of having caught the same bug. However, Carol Jnr was still fit and came with me to the nearest Post Office where the car tax was handed over with no problems.

Then we heard that there had been a bit of a DIY disaster at Vik’s house, where we were going to go that afternoon, and Roger felt there was too much dust, or soot, everywhere to receive visitors. So it was decided that Vik and Scout should come to Surbiton, where at Scout’s request, we got an Indian takeaway and enjoyed it in Carol’s flat. Time passed quickly, looking at photos and chatting. We said we would drive Vik and Scout home to Plumstead, and Roger had tidied up so that there was no evident sign of the earlier event, and we were treated to a lovely pasta supper.

Then came the music! The fact that there wasn’t room for my guitar as well as four people in the car didn’t matter, because Roger had two, and a four-stringed bass guitar as well:

(Left to right: Vik, Scout, SKT, Rhiannon, Roger)

And, of course, we mustn’t leave Rosie out! But unfortunately all the pictures of Rosie are out of focus, probably because I didn’t put the flash on. This may be the least bad:

Sunday 7th: The invalids in the ‘other’ flat were disinclined to do much more than get up to say hello then go back to bed! Carol Jnr was out walking for the day, so we did our own thing. We had a light lunch at the Riverside Café in Kingston, watching the boats go by:

Then we hopped on board one ourselves and went down to Hampton Court.

An impressive approach!

Anyone seen my dragon?

Oh, there you are!

Back at Porton Court, Christine went out to do duty for the Samaritans, in spite of still being under the weather, but Philip had recovered enough to get dinner for us, and Carol was back from her day’s walking. So the first  phase of this visit drew to a close; thanks to everyone at Porton Court and Plumstead for the hospitality, and we hope that the discomfort of the flu-type affliction will be short lived – and that we’re not taking it away with us!