Clive and I were staying nearer the route to Finedon than Jo was so she dropped by for us on Tuesday morning. Packing took longer than expected again — this was becoming a pattern. Despite ice and stretching my knee wasn’t great, but I still wanted to try to cycle. Our kind hostess loaned me a house key just in case I needed to store my bicycle in her garden overnight, and off we went, along the guided busway. It became clear by about Longstanton that I really wasn’t going to manage an entire day, so I sadly turned back toward Cambridge, had lunch with a friend, and tried to figure out what to do. Trains via London were not cheap; eventually I decided a train via Leicester was going to be a better course of action than a coach/train combination. That still only took me as far as Wellingborough, and I was grateful that the organist was able to pick me up there rather than my having to negotiate unfamiliar buses. Clive and Jo had arrived at the church a good hour or so before I did, and had a good rest in the churchyard and a natter with someone who later came along to the concert. There was time for a cold drink at the vicarage before rehearsing, much appreciated — from my perspective, the reminder not to feel guilty about my dodgy knee was especially helpful. The concert went much better than the one at St Bene’t’s had, and Compline was very well-attended. After that the three of us, the organist and the organ scholar were treated to a curry by Rev Richard Coles, and then got to bed, late but comfortable, in a parishioner’s home.
Follow us on TwitterMy Tweets