We might have left Dublin but the holiday wasn’t over. As we were travelling back the way we had arrived we had to go through London again and it seemed sensible to stop and meet up with our two sons. One lives north of the river and the other on the south coast but with a direct train service to his brother. Youngest son told me we’d prefer to stay in St Alban’s as it was a more interesting town than his and close enough for him to join us easily.

Travelling on Friday the 13th worried me a bit but it was all fine. We got up at crack of sparrows and witnessed a beautiful red dawn. ‘Would you look at that?’ our taxi driver remarked. Our last Irish accent. 😊

The day turned blue and sunny and the sea was pancake flat…so much for all the naysayers! I went out on the tiny bit of deck devoted to smokers and marvelled at the jet propulsion that was making our crossing so fast.

Four jets propelling 60 tonnes of seawater a second! The sight and sound of it was very exciting. I was mesmerised watching the roiling water as we left a wild wake behind us.

The rest of the journey passed uneventfully although walking between Euston and St Pancras in the Friday evening rush hour was not much fun but we managed. A fast train to St Alban’s, a taxi to the hotel and an evening with youngest son and petit fils rounded off our day.

Saturday morning is market day in St Alban’s centre and we wandered along, me enjoying hearing the market calls I remembered although the fruits might have changed! ‘Come and get yer luverly mangoes!!’ ‘Only a parnd’..

Down by the cathedral we found a quiet spot for coffee. Our son had been right. It really is a pretty place that we had never visited except for a colleague’s wedding years ago in another part of town.

Around midday the various family members arrived and we decided on Zizzi for a jolly lunch although the choice of restaurants in town is vast and varied.

Petit fils, a veteran of the get togethers of his dad and uncle told us he was going to be our guide around the Cathedral…and he was excellent. 😊

(this website is telling me I don’t have enough space for some of my photos and I can’t remember how to resize them! So words only now, I’m afraid). Update, I think the problem was the internet speed so here goes with adding photos! Arghhhh! Only let me do one! 22/9/24 still trying

The cathedral is vast and it takes quite a while and some dedication to explore it all as well as read the useful information here and there.

Part way through our visit the choir started practicing which added to the whole experience. Petit fils made sure we didn’t miss a thing. Sadly, the place where he did some brass rubbing seemed to be closed off for some reason.

Towards the end of the afternoon the seaside dwellers headed off for their train while the rest of us retired to our hotel room to relax before it was time for them to leave.

Hoping for a simple supper in the hotel restaurant we were disappointed to find it closed so went out looking for a suitable place nearby. After a couple of false starts we found what we wanted to eat but in a very noisy setting. No matter, it was Saturday night and cheerful.

On Sunday the food stalls were replaced by bric a brac or what is known as brocante in France. I loved wandering around but himself muttered and sighed until eventually I agreed to a coffee stop.

We had a lunch date booked with youngest son, his ex partner and petit fils at an Italian restaurant, scarcer than hens teeth in our part of la france profonde so I was really looking forward to it.

And it was as good as anticipated with the added bonus of catching up with my lovely daughter-not-in-law as I’ve always called her affectionately. Another jolly family lunch.

But before that once more petit fils had been our guide. This time around the St Alban’s museum in the town hall and former courtroom. His favourite part is downstairs in the holding cells where we were ceremoniously and gleefully shut in. Upstairs the courtroom is now a cafe but with all the seating, gallery and dock still in situ so Dada was put in the dock and our ‘judge’/guide sent him down for 25 years!

Then a drive over to our son’s home for the rest of the afternoon, our first visit and surrounded by pretty farmland with Roman remains nearby. There had been some interesting finds on display in the museum attesting to the antiquity of St Alban’s and its Roman past. Well worth another visit!

Saying goodbye to them all is always hard, either in France or in Blighty but it is what it is and we are hoping to meet up at the extended family Christmas ‘do’ in December.

Meanwhile we needed a early night for the return on Eurostar today…and that has been a whole other story!!