Back to childhood. Get on the coach. Is everbody here? Time for he start of endless counting. Off we go. comfortable seats set to become a slow means of torture as the hours slip by, as across Europe and time we slip. Stop. Ordered ti the toilets. and ''you can buy food here''. Really?
Onwards and final blessed arrival...no not yet. A mnii tour of a place noyt yet open for our kind. Onwards. Headcount.
Arrival and the wonderfulness of the anti-climax, for here is our base, our nest in lands foreign. Really, we unpack and stay here in the 1970s? Yes, and tomorrow we set off before the birds arise in search of our dates, places and times to be present according to an unyielding itinerary.