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Published: December 24th 2020
Well , Well , it's me Gabby . They have spent two nights sleeping in me. Two days preparing me for something . I am getting excited . We are on a journey I think . This time last year we were setting off for Christmas in France . Must be the same thing .
Sadly Gabby was going to be disappointed . Our reason for sleeping in her was because we were on the verge of moving house . At last the bed had been taken down . That meant sleeping on the floor or in Gabby . We had boxed up all our belongings and had nowhere to cook . So that was the reason for being inside our motorhome. It felt good being in her even if we were not heading for a holiday in France . Covid had well and truly put paid to that . The numbers of deaths were rising. The number of infected folk gradually creeping off the scale and to make matters worse there was a new variant of the disease . Could it get worse ? Everything though felt familiar in our girl Gabby . Apart from the TV which
would only pick up the BBC. Thursday was our second night and day in Gabby . I took a final walk down Longedge Lane and along the busy main road . I wouldnt be doing this again . I said my farewells to the neighbours. The removals turned up and all our belongings disappeared . The house felt hollow and empty . It felt better being in Gabby . They woke up early . It was dark and there was a lot of things going on . Where was Sion I wondered ? And Breheg the Gallic Breton sheep .Little did I know that Glenn would be driving me and Jen would be bringing Ziggy together with Sion and Breheg to Wales . Both were hiding in the glove compartment . The drive took me to Matlock . Jen drove through a red light . Oh dear she wasnt very happy. Matlock was quiet and dark . It was taking a long time for dawn to break . Along the way there were many cylindrical white mileposts . I almost thought Jen would stop Ziggy and photograph them but she did not . Not like her to miss
a good milepost . Next stop the wettest place in the UK - Buxton . Spa town with impressive Georgian buildings . Birthplace of Tim Brooke Taylor and Dave Lee Travis . The highest market town in England . I know these things . Over the Cat and Fiddle we went .
Now that was awful . I could hardly see Gabby in front of me. The mist had come in and it was windy up there . Not a pleasant drive over to Macclesfield . The cold whistled through me . Over the top we finally met up at Chester services a very convenient and tidy stop on the motorway where we got the first phone call . The house was sold and we were effectively homeless . Time to move on to the home for Gabby for the next six months. Not sure I like the sound of that . I always stay close to them . Although to be fair Emral Gardens in the walled garden sounds quite attractive . Oh no it wasnt . First my boots got very wet as the road was flooded . Then I had to park up and
wait for a nice lady to finish delivering oil to the old gatehouse . Now that was nice . Jacobean in style and quaint . Then there was the road . Potholed , filthy , muddy . Sheep wandering the road . If this was where they were dumping me I was not impressed .
To be fair I wasnt impressed either . Ziggy was so slow I worried the water would flood the engine and leave us with a problem . We had had the phone call that we had become the proud owners of the new house and needed to get to Ellesmere to pick the keys up. The walled garden was unimpressive . Yes it did have high walls to protect our girl , electric fences along the top, CCTV to cover the site . But it was a farm and muddy and miserable . I felt bereft leaving our girl behind . She looked a mess . Sadly we left her and headed for Ellesmere . The roads were flooded and it was a fraught journey . To make matters worse the keys were not available and would not be brought in until 3pm . Now that was taking the proverbial . After a long journey down that was the last thing we wanted to hear . Our introduction to the new house was not going well .
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