Dreamaticus

On the final day of the conference in the Lake District I packed my bag, checked in online for my flight to Amsterdam, and then wandered down to the hotel dining room to ask for a sandwich (in French). Although service for lunch was almost over, the head waiter said that the kitchen staff could make something up for me. I chose a large seed roll from the bread basket and requested a filling of ‘jambon et fromage’.

Afterwards I joined the others for a final walk outside. CS led us down to the tall thin multi-arched bridge designed by her husband AH. It served no purpose whatsoever, other than as an architectural ornament from which to enjoy the view across the lake.

We climbed up to the top of the bridge to watch the planes come in to the airport to the west. An EasyJet flight almost took out a chef who was sitting on top of a distant skyscraper. We guessed that he was doing the same as us, admiring the view from the other direction.

Then we left the bridge to continue down to the lake. A little way along water’s edge, and further than most tourists would venture, we discovered discovered a sandy beach. The water was so warm and inviting here that some members of our party couldn’t resist a swim. ETS jumped in fully-clothed for her dip.

Later I returned to the hotel to make a final check before our departure. In my room I apprehended a bunch of child thieves rummaging through my belongings on a hunt for cash. I saw through their pathetic boy scout disguise. When questioned they didn’t even know the Boy Scout Motto, and there was no chance that they would be able to recite the Boy Scout Promise. I retrieved my leather pouch of loose change from the clutches of the ringleader and then marched the boys off to their adult leader. She had no idea that her scout troop had been infiltrated by this bunch of baby criminals.