It was up at the crack of dawn for an early breakfast. After that, I went for a quick walk round the lakes. Somebody told me that if you do that you will return to Swanwick which is something I definitely want to do.
At twenty past eight, people started gathering outside to wait for, and board, the coach to the station. There was much waving, hugging and a few tears.
I’d managed to find a lift home which meant I didn’t have to ask my lodger to come and pick me up. It was a bit daunting as I had no idea how good a driver Hilary was, but I needn’t have worried. She was fine. The lovely lady dropped me at my door too.
It felt really strange coming home to a quiet, empty house (my lodger was out).
I was left with a mix of emotions. Happy that I’d had such a wonderful time, sad that it was over. Happy that I’d learned a lot and had pages of notes to inspire me. Sad that I hadn’t been chatted up by anyone under seventy!
It wasn’t until I actually went there that I realised why people love Swanwick so much. It’s a magical place to escape to. I’m counting down the days until next year.
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