Off to Bristol

This day, 7th Sept, is the earliest morning I've had for a while - the alarm was required as my body clock is now well and truly on Spanish time. The taxi arrives and I thank and farewell Jill & Peter. Tears brew and I head to the airport, with tears flowing, where the Tui plane that will take me to the UK awaits me.

I've had a fantastic time in every way enjoying special times with my friends and fab times out and about around Mallorca - but now it is time for the next stage of my journey.

There is a queue at the Tui desk but it is moving swiftly and in extremely orderly fashion. These are mostly Brits heading home and Brits always do a good queue! Tui is what used to be Thomson Holidays - new branding with something of a Kiwi flavour! They mainly specialise in holiday packages, but you can also hitch a most satisfactory one-way ride on a plane, which is a good thing as flight options between Palma and Bristol are a bit limited.

The flight is on time and check in is speedy and simple, as is security - there are multiple zones you can go through and the one I choose is smooth sailing. The other zones all look just as easy. Having these different zones breaks up the masses and makes for easy processing and shorter queues which is all good for the travel psyche.

Once at the gate, I discover the plane is delayed about an hour. It's no big deal and we are soon up in the sky with the pilot apologising for a baggage issue at Bristol airport on the inbound flight which meant it arrived late and hence left late.

It's the end of the school holidays so lots of families on board - all very well-behaved. It's a seamless flight in a clean and modern aircraft. With no grizzling, hyperactive or highly irritating kids, which is quite heartening given there were plenty of them on board.

We touch down in Bristol and I emerge on UK soil. I've never been to Bristol before. I find my way to the A1 Bristol Flyer bus and take the 8 pound ride into Temple Meads where I am met by Libby - a friend from schooldays at Epsom Girls Grammar. She is British, a lawyer and has lived in Bristol for many years after returning to her homeland. We last met up in 2017 - twice - both in NZ and the UK, after nearly 40 years since leaving school!! And here we are again, as though there were never any years in between.

We walk towards the harbour area on a lovely sunny day and Libby is a most excellent tour guide, providing lots of info about the area and its maritime history.

Libby and a lovely boat

Bridge with lots of padlocks

We have coffee by the water and catch up on things. We take the little taxi ferry boat across to the other side and continue our walk back to her workplace where her car is parked. She usually bikes to work but this obviously wasn't a viable transport method today given me and my baggage!

Libby and her husband Patrick live in a lovely street by a park and we settle in for a refreshing G&T before heading across the common for an Indian meal at their favourite little authentic restaurant that serves street food alongside traditional offerings. Patrick recommends the panipuri (fried puff pastry balls filled with spiced mashed potato and served with spicy flavoured water). Fill it up, pop it in your mouth, taste explosion occurs! Every dish is sensational, washed down with red wine and lots of laughter.

If you're ever in Bristol check out Indian Junction on Gloucester Road!

We walk home under a moonlit sky and I am replete with great food, wine, company, conversation and environment. I sleep like a baby.

OBSERVATION OF THE DAY:
I love how English cities have lovely leafy squares to sit and contemplate the world in, spacious commons to walk across, and residential streets that are somewhat uniform and [mostly] tidy. Whilst things may look similar out front, especially the terraced variety - out back each home has a garden that is individual and private to its residents, but hidden from the passer-by. I love imagining what sort of garden glory lies out back behind closed doors and curtained windows.

On our walk to the restaurant, we pass a tidy terraced street in which Cary Grant once lived.