I have totally got the taste for short breaks. And Marina is recommending the Hull Festival. It's the first weekend back at work after the summer hols, and here I am on the train, oh no, and the replacement bus to Hull. I gazed with some trepidation at the motorway bridge on my right.
We turned left.
Well, it's really raining when I get to Hull; I search for the bus to the festival, get directed to Stand Whatever and then it pulls up; I get on board, and am now Harry Potter ie the one passenger on this bus that has materialised only for him.
I am dropped off in the Museum Quarter and walk along into the Festival proper. Which turns out to be excellent.
Big bird puppets in the park, blue piano in the park, tiger floats, Ruby Turner free on the waterfront, Roland Gift free on the waterfront, little giggettes in every shop and ex-dockland warehouse. Food, cocktails, streets teeming with happy but often quite wet visitors.
I found Marina, Glen, Sadie and friend on Saturday afternoon; we watched an interactive sporty-arty experience, I then went to find, and found, the last hotel room that night in Hull! Phew. Met up again with Marina and the gang; then they went back home for the evening.
I hung around the festival and the evening light and fire shows until the rain told me to call it a day.
I found a shop and bought a toothbrush and bottle of wine to use in reverse order. Then settled for a couple of hours of writing and watching rubbish Scandinavian crime thrillers. Didn't even know there could be any rubbish Scandinavian ones!
Worked out how to do a selfie on the new phone.