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What a month!
Although we moved house barely two years ago, a house which I have coveted for more than fifteen years suddenly became available. The timing could not have been worse, as our Open
Day was shortly due, followed by a weekend of crystal healing, and I was due in France to attend the 50th Anniversary of one of my older cars. Nevertheless time waits for no man and, if I wished to realise my dream, several
decisions had to be quickly made. Fortunately, both Jan and Justin were up for it and I was quickly packing up my books yet again. Justin, for some reason best known to himself, had wisely not bothered to unpack his boxes after
the last move!
The Open Day went extremely well and seemed particularly relaxed, perhaps because we were only fifty souls or so rather than the usual sixty or seventy. Caroline Ingraham was a big hit with her experiences
about elephants, and I know that several have tried to contact her since but have had no response. Unfortunately she has been having some email problems but hopefully all is now back to normal. Her email address is
caroline.ingraham@googlemail.com
Knowing little about crystal healing myself, I was genuinely surprised what a great success Gill Farrer-Halls' first course on the subject was. Sue Whyte, a distinguished
nurse/tutor and aromatherapist, wrote to say a very big thank you to Gill for the truly amazing Crystal Healing workshops held last Saturday and Sunday. Two very special days in more ways than one and very difficult to explain
why, but maybe, like the Tao, if it can be explained or described, it is not Tao! I have come away with much, much more than I expected.
If you have any requests for courses on matters that we have not yet covered
please do let me know as soon as possible, as I am about to start drawing up next year's Calendar of Events. However, next year, I intend to make sure that no course dates conflict with my motoring activities, as I should like Jan or Justin to accompany me on the odd event.
A couple of days before I was to depart for Vaux-le-Penil, a suburb of Melun, a few kilometres south of Paris, Justin decided quite rightly that it was better he remain at home with Jan to help with catering for
the Crystal Healing weekend than navigate me on the Facel Vega Rallye Touristique D'Automne. At the time, having been assured that there were bound to be other British participants on the event with whom I could team up
at the Channel Tunnel, I was not at all concerned despite having no satnav. However, when the day dawned it was obvious that I would be on my own and the prospect of circumnavigating Paris in the rush hour on a Friday evening
made me slightly apprehensive. Had I been in one of my German thirty-odd-year-olds I would have had no such qualms, because everything usually works, but temperamental fifty-year-old French sports cars are an entirely different
matter as nothing can be relied upon to function when it most matters.
I made excellent progress from Oxfordshire to a little north of Paris where at the final toll booth I arrived wreathed in smoke. Fearing that I was
on fire, a nearby group of gendarmes rushed to push me aside to perish at my leisure as they beat a hasty retreat to the protection of their van. Fortunately it was only a slight leak from the heater box dripping onto the
exhaust that was creating clouds of steam, but I suppose the boys in blue didn't know that at the time. All the same, it was a little worrying and did not augur well for the rest of the trip. Also, by now, the rush hour traffic
was building and I was finding it more difficult to navigate my way as hard-charging Parisians flashed and hooted me out of their way. Eventually, more by luck than good map-reading, I reached Vaux-le-Penil but despite going
around and around in ever decreasing circles I could not locate my resting place for the night. Extremely hot and bothered, and the car even more so, I was about to call it a day until I recollected that the French, somewhat
weirdly I think, often locate hotels in industrial zones. Sure enough there was my hotel for the night next to a factory and, what's more, there was a number of Facel Vegas parked outside. Relief!
Despite nombreux dos
d'ane (speed humps) along the towpath of the Seine which can be real car breakers, seriously overheating in Moret-sur-Loing which required a heater bypass, the engine cutting out twice for five minutes on the autoroute, and
losing a windscreen wiper in torrential rain on the M25, the car got me safely home which, when all is said and done, is all I pray for from an ageing motor. Upon my return, Jan enquired if the experience had put me off old
cars. Of course it hasn't, but it has made me realise that neither they nor I are getting any younger!
In comparison, the house move was a breeze. Nevertheless it still puzzles me why removal companies persist in using
too few men and too small a van for the job, with the result that they are on the go from dawn till after dusk and leave the customer to move anything that cannot finally fit into the van, even if it's your bed for the night.
Knowing this, we always rent a Transit for ourselves just in case!
Dutifully, I collected together my briefcase and laptop as I bade farewell to our old home, ready to crack on with the Newsletter as soon as the move was
over. Disaster! As the removal van finally disappeared into the gloom of night I went in search of my laptop, but I couldn't find it anywhere and haven't been able to find it since. Therefore, dear readers, I'm afraid this is
all you'll be getting from me this month as the rest has mysteriously disappeared into thin air. Enjoy the Special Offers instead!