On the move at last.

Neither Clare nor I slept well Sunday night. We were up early and by seven driving to Cardiff Central station through quiet morning streets, the sun just over the horizon. Clare was going to Birmingham to attend Lydia's funeral.

After breakfast I completed packing and checking my bags, and amazingly by eleven, I was ready, though not leaving home until five. I think this rates as a personal best in terms of readiness. The only things I forgot were my alb and the suitcase strap. Fortunately Ibiza has albs to save clergy having to bring their own. I just hope the suitcase is sturdy enough. I was one kilo inside the limit, the heaviest case I have travelled with in the past decade.

I didn't expect to see Clare again as there was the possibility of an overnight stay, but she decided against it, and walked through the door at ten to five. She drove me to the bus station, and left me to board a coach with seven other passengers on board, only three for the airport.

The start was delayed as the driver refused to take a passenger smelling of drink and behaving obnoxiously. He protested vehemently and threatened a sit in confontation on the bus steps. Rather than call out the police to remove the man, the coach station manager overruled the driver. I guess that was to allow the coach to run to schedule. The man's small bag was confined to the baggage compartment for the trip to Bristol. The driver said this was necessary for everyone's good since he had no authority to search his belongings to confirm the man's protest that he wasn't carrying any drink or drugs, except in his digestive system. It was a disconcerting moment and the driver handles it very well I thought, so the journey thereafter was incident free.

We arrived early at the airport, and a shuttle bus was called for me to reach the Holiday Inn for my half a night's stay in a clean, quiet comfortable room. How much sleep I'll get is anybody's guess, but I can at least relax.