I wasn't intending to post again, but the journey home took 9 hours and, as a proportion of the whole weekend, took quite a significant amount of time.

We had a little swap around and switched drivers more than once to combat tiredness. All of us were feeling the effects of a long day and more than one of us had nearly fallen asleep on Miriam's sofa.

Each of us found that we had eaten quite a lot of food over the preceeding 24 hours and, as a result, we didn't stop for a proper Sunday lunch (as we had half planned to do) and carried on snacking on flapjacks (later, flapjack crumbs) and sandwiches bought from motorway service stations. We learned a lesson that flip-up picnic trays don't hold cups of coffee very securely and that you should hold on to your hot drink unless you want it all over your leg!

Both cars arrived back at Graham's house at roughly the same time and disgorged their contents of half-packed bags and weary bodies. Showing our resilience, (or maybe our stupidity) conversation had already started to turn to "what form might the next challenge take?", however, the consistent theme at this point was the need for a long, hot bath. Oh, and a large glass of wine.

Until next time,

Rob.