The Last Post

Well, here we are.

My writing desk is pretty bare except for the computer. It's our last day.

In a few hours time we'll be somewhere in France. I will be either

a) in a motorway service station, ordering a Happy Meal.
b) panicking about the bikes/ the contents of the roofrack falling off.

c) hotly denying we're lost

d) asking Emma if she needs a wee

e) ensuring a continous flow of biscuits from the front to the back seats

Thanks for reading, everyone. I've loved writing this silly diary and I've loved all the comments. This blog thing has been a great way of staying in touch with old friends, and making some new ones. There will be a Uganda blog, but we don't get there til end of November, and til then I am on sabbatical. I have no idea what it'll be called yet, but it'll probably have Uganda in the title.

Goodbye, Switzerland. You were beautiful, and still are.

Goodbye, Swiss chums. I've made some friends for life.

Goodbye, readers. Thanks for hanging in there: let's keep in touch.

Goodbye, Switzerlady. Stay on the straight and narrow.

Au revoir!

I Had a Farm in Arfricah

As part of a general genning up on our next adventure, I've just re-watched Out of Africa. (It first came out in 1985 - don't that make you feel old?) It won a cabinet full of Oscars. What I don't quite get though, is why didn't anyone notice - between superlatives about the acting, cinematography etc - that it's crashingly dull?

The first hour goes like this.

Scene 1: Meryl looks out wistfully across the savannah to soaring classical music.
Scene 2: Low-level flirting between Meryl and Robert. When Bob's passion runs high, he gets out his scratchy gramaphone and they dance.
Scene 3: Meryl works on the farm and talks patronisingly to the natives.
Scene 4: Meryl meets a lion. Bob to the rescue! (They repeat this lion thing 3 times in all. By the third time, I was hoping it would eat at least one of them.)
Scene 5: Meryl looks out wistfully...zzzzzzzz.zzzz

Occasionally interesting things happen, like Meryl gets syphillis or the farm burns down, but they are thin on the ground in 2 and a half hours of staring and encounters with big game. Do you see what I mean? Or has the X Factor addled my brain?


In other news. I am very nearly not sick anymore, though I still need to take it easy. Friday is our last day in Switzerland, and therefore the last day of Switzerlady. There are boxes everywhere, though most of them are yet to be filled. I turned 34 yesterday, and had special breakfast of pancakes with maple syrup. It stayed down. 'God bless America', I say.

Those nausea cures: the results

1. Vitamin B6. Definitely helping. 7/10.
2. Dr Herb's granules. Taste nice. Not convinced they're very effective. 3/10.
3. Watching hours and hours of clips of The X Factor on YouTube. TEN, TEN, TEN, TEN MILLION OUT OF TEN!

I LOVE the x factor. I love the contestants. I love the judges, despite Sharon and Dannii looking increasingly like their own waxworks. I love the stories.
I don't know why so many of the women sing I Will Always Love You, because it's very hard to pull off. Here's someone who did:



*sniff!*