Got home all in one piece, something I was beginning to wonder if would happen. The last several days were kind of tough on me. Train from Florence to Paris was delayed 2 hours, leaving only 1 hour of our transition between stations. We get off the train, and join the line for a taxi. None come. I was alert enough to hear a guy saying 'gare du nord?', and three more of us piled into a van with all our luggage, 6 in total. Turns out there's a one day taxi strike, and those people will be waiting in line for a while. The Eurostar Chunnel train was also delayed, so the departure lounge was a zoo.
Other stuff happened.
Then, I swear this is true. We're at the departure gate in Heathrow Terminal 5. There is no airplane, no jet way, but there is a bus. Can you believe they put us on a bus for a freaking 10 minute ride around the airport, till the driver apparently picked a plane at random. However, it all turned out well. We even had 3 seats for the two of us. It was a good plane ride for me. I spent much of it snoozing or trying to, or meditating, in between all the wine they plied me with. I needed some time with no further sensory input. But it's about 4 in the morning London time, and I'm going to go to bed RSN. There is almost a GB of photos to be organized. Tomorrow.
Our cat missed us, but has been spoiled rotten by our wonderful house sitter. The siding has been fixed, and other requested tasks done. My arm can go almost straight, and is much stronger, but still a long way to go. I might try swimming this weekend, just to see what happens.