A busy boat week.
Pictures have winged their way to us since the last post. At a rate of knots too fast to keep up, came news of a delivery date. This, of course necessitated a trip to the marina to pick up the mail, see Martin – the mooring man, and check out the garden.
As we arrived the woodburners were starting to do their thing, so the air was full of the kinds of smells that Dylan Thomas would associate with Christmas, and to Terry Prachett would indicate Ank Mor Pork was under seige.
A pleasant hour was spent watching the ducks, before we headed into Ely for the night.