Portsmouth decay

Uncharacteristically, I partake of the continental breakfast. It’s included :)

I do a bit of work. Read a bit more. Watch Oslo (not as good as the play). Doze. Make cheese and tomato sandwiches for lunch. Eat one of the Spanish apples that I’d brought - looks like a Russet, tastes a bit like a pear.

We chug through Portsmouth harbour. Eventually they allow pedestrians to disembark, herd us onto a shuttle bus, and process us through border control.

The sun is baking, so I head off on foot to Portsmouth Harbour station. Luckily, Google maps helps me realise that Portsmouth & Southsea is closer. And I’m on my way to Brighton.

Dan and Charlotte are in the last stages of preparing dinner - mac, spinach, and cheese plus salad. They have both recently had Covid. Dan can’t taste anything, Charlotte has balance issues. Samala has Maths A level tomorrow, Isaac has Maths GCSE. Eli is back late from cricket.

It’s all go, but by 10:00 it’s just the oldsters sitting round the kitchen table. Not for long, though. Dan and Emergency Exit Arts were part of the Jubilee procession in London yesterday and he’s knackered. Charlotte goes to bed first, but he’s not far behind. I retire to the downstairs Airbnb flatlet.