My Delegates arrived today; a few hiccups, but speakers all arrived on time and everyone enjoyed the sessions. Went back to the lecture theatre to do some work while the others went into the City until 8pm, then walked the way they’d come back so that I’d bump into them, if that makes sense.
It had been a lovely sunny day, windy but warmish, and it was just turning to dusk. On the way I saw and heard a lone guitarist playing and singing "Sail Away With Me, Honey". He was sitting on the pavement, and three other people had stopped to listen, as did I, and we were soon joined by others. He had a beautiful voice, and was worth the coins that we gave him! Are there any talent scouts out there? He has long dark hair in a ponytail, and deserves to be Found.
I had a feeling that my lot were going back to ‘our’ café, and sure enough that’s where I found them! Too late for me to eat any pud though, so I was good.
We came out into rain that was coming down in stair rods, and sploshed our way back. However, in my case it was more a case of splosh-slap, splosh-slap…. the sole of my right sandal was gradually separating from the top half! I knew that it wouldn’t last long and earlier had mixed up a paste with the contents of my emergency tooth repair kit before setting out, in the absence of having any glue about my person, and had used that to stick them together. It had stuck and held, but didn’t stand a chance in the torrential rain and puddles, and had come apart again. Soon my right foot felt a whole lot lighter, and there was the sole all by itself on the pavement. The rest of the straps were only held together with stitches and a strip of metal.
We all laughed and I picked it up and continued, marching along holding the sole in my right hand and using it to point the way ahead at turnings. This time I walked like Hopalong Cassidy, with my right foot an inch lower and with a splosh-squish/clatter, splosh-squish/clatter, as my foot got soggier and soggier and the metal strip clattered on the pavement. It was hilarious and we arrived back at the Uni in a gasping heap of merriment.