Well, heavy day. Several trips to the dump after very serious editing of my ex-belongings. Tim, brother number 1, came over with a van to take the bulk of the decent and sentimental stuff away to Mother's. We all had our last lunch together for some time - and very good it was too - as always. Not too much wine was taken - Tim and I were both driving - Tim collecting, me delivering.
It's all getting a bit close. I'm feeling a bit emotional most of the time. Luckily, because I'm British, nay English, I'm not letting it show.
Tim has spent quite a bit of time abroad, so we spent some moments chatting about what it's like to be an 'oddity' in someone else's country. He told me about the time he was attacked in St Lucia for being white - purely and simply for that reason. Even though he was there working to improve the lot of the people. Makes you think.
Luckily, having been racially abused by my neighbour - a Frenchman calling me an 'Anglo-Saxon' (it's a shame he couldn't have been more specific: an Anglo/Norman/Celtic/Saxon/Gallic/Viking/Rift Valley curly haired immigrant would have been so much more entertaining) I'm semi-prepared. Only semi.
It's certainly going to be a turned-tables situation (with apologies to Private Eye).
Moscow.
Hey John,
So you are off on an adventure. Great!!
Keep in touch and when you are next over do come and stay .....there will be a few pints waiting.
Glad to see you shaved that rug off your face.
Be good.....Scott