Well, we are off on our adventures again. Barely had I recovered from Family Tree Live (let us be truthful I hadn’t recovered), when it was two days Swording and Spindling in the seventeenth century at a nearby school. This involved a first. My colleagues are used to coping with fainting students – it may have something to do with the fact that they are amputating limbs and hanging, drawing and quartering folk. Trying on clothes and armour is quite tame by comparison. This week though, I had my first fainting student whilst they were trying on armour. I almost managed to release them before they crumpled to the floor.

Hot on the heels of this was the annual Braund Society reunion, with 39 members and friends gathering together in North Devon. Although the temperatures were a tad on the low side, we did keep dry for our trips to Rosemoor and Coldharbour Mill. The latter was a first for me and it was very interesting, well worth a visit.

I don’t know what possessed me to decide to arrange to go away on the day immediately following the reunion but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Add to this the fact that I had a meeting with our lovely authors’ group on the morning of our departure and I was giving a talk in the afternoon, it all made for a hectic time. Just to make matters worse, on my final night at home, my hot water solar panels decided they would make a worrying noise at an unearthly hour. Despite turning the panels off, the noise persisted for several hours. I attempted to summon assistance from a fisherman of my acquaintance but inevitably his mobile was on charge and I did not want to ring the land line in the middle of the night as he had guests. I debated getting in the car to fetch help but decided against it. Even when the noise stopped, all that going in the loft in the middle of the night meant that sleep eluded me, so I was functioning (just) on two hours’ sleep. Fortunately, all seemed to be well when I left, so my house-sitters should not be disturbed.

In addition, to avoid having to park in town, I am normally dropped off for my authors’ meeting and then ring to be collected when it is over. On this occasion, time was particularly tight because of the talk in the afternoon. By a quirk of fate, both landline and mobile of my trusty assistant were malfunctioning so I had to power-walk the mile up the hill afterwards. My numerous attempts at making a telephonic connection also cost a small fortune as the malfunction mean that the landline went straight to answerphone, so I was charged. My thirteen-year-old pay-as-you-go phone has a flat rate charge of 35p per call. Multiply that by as many calls as I made and it would have been cheaper to get a taxi.

So, what was meant to be a relaxing holiday did not begin in very relaxing manner! We headed towards Tewkesbury for an uneventful overnight stop. The next day and it was off to the frozen north (I am not joking, there is currently snow where we are due to be next week). The weather was truly awful and the driver amongst us (not me) braved storm, tempest and roadworks as we wended our way to Whitely Bay in Northumberland. Our site has a view of the sea – in theory. We can just make it out through the mist and murk.