A airplane last night and three trains and a car ride today to get me to a small village in North Lincolnshire for a funeral tomorrow. My sister in law’s Mum died after a brave crusade against the bastardly sly motor neuron disease (or ALS). She was young, energetic and bubbly, and fortunately for me that is how I remember her, and we will all celebrate her life tomorrow morning.
I wanted to support my bro and his missus, and as sad as the occasion, the upside is I get to spend some time with them until I go back to Bermuda on Sunday.
The journey up to Cleethorpes took in some fine northern outposts such as Grantham, Scunthorpe and Grimsby as well as a city in South Yorkshire called Doncaster, where I had to switch trains. The fixtures have been kind to us and my brother and I will head back there on Saturday.