Ferdie joins the tour...

Off we head on Saturday morning. I have to have my usual conversation with a traffic warden when I stay at my brother's and am loading up the van.

"What's going on here then?"
"I'm just getting the ice cream all tucked in - it's prime scooping weather and I've got to get this show on the road...only a bit more to do, how about giving me another 30 minutes?"
"Fifteen"
"Let's call it 20 and I'll throw in an ice cream".
They usually walk away trying not to smile at this point and I burrow on.

I feel like death. I've hardly slept and have never needed my shades so much. Luckily Ferdie is getting involved with the tour for the weekend and has been up since eight, busily tidying up the kitchen and making a picnic for the journey. Off towards the M3 with Ferdie only just about contained by the stingy seatbelt. It really isn't one for the larger passenger. Still, it doesn't keep him quiet and before long we're at Stone Henge where I want to sling some ice cream.

This goes down like a lead balloon. What a bunch of bores! How can that many people be that inanimate? They all just trudge about looking gormless. Ferdie leers out of the window with his constricted gut and chest "Ice cream?! Who wants a lovely Turkish Delight flavour ice cream?!" and they recoil from the lunatic at large, back to the safety of their Kagools.

We decide to tuck into our picnic instead and then charge on down the A303 to Upton Noble, Somerset.