Europe, the Final Frontier.
These are the voyages of the Flying-Brick ‘Gnome’. Its continuing blah blah blah. You get the message...
Chapter 3: The first leg.
Our mission: To head into winter...
The day had finally arrived. We were to leave our home in the care of our brave family, to head north towards .... er ... the north.
Annick's family had arrived, against all the odds, to care for our menagerie. Instructions had been left (don't forget to feed the dog, cat, fish, ducks, peacocks, cranes, poultry and, oh yes, maman). The Gnome was packed to its eyeballs with food, drink, clothing and... more drink.
What could possibly go wrong?
Well, here's a thing. Quite a lot actually.
Our plan was to travel north in several stages. You know. Take it easy. Relax. We would take a few days to get to the tunnel, then stay at my long unseen youngest son's home. Fine. No problem. Except, well, we'd be stuck in quarantine for fourteen days, forced to stay there. We were not even allowed to take our dog for a walk! This was lucky considering we didn't have her with us.
We didn't have far to go that day as we left in the afternoon from home. However, we had a bad feeling...
The world is changed
I feel it in the water.
I feel it in the earth.
Much that once was is lost.
For the time will soon come when Covid will shape the fortunes of all.
A distant rumour, a sense of concern, a problem.
My young sons better half (hereon-in called the Elf) was not well. Feverishness. Stiffness.
Gulp.
Our plan was starting to unravel...
We arrived near Rocamadour in a small village called Lacave...
Here, under the eye of a distant hill-top edifice of sorcery and indoctrination (a church) we awaited news of what is and what should never be...
Coming next: The next bit...
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