Written 8.30am Friday 8th June on arrival at the office.
To say it’s wet this morning is an understatement. I really hoped by the time I left the house the weather would have finished venting its spleen on the UK, but not so. With difficulty I managed to control my umbrella aware that one gust could have me airborne like a modern day Mary Poppins floating over the valley. The footpath that connects our road with the A4 gave me a false sense of security. It was sheltered and quiet, but I knew when I reached the main road not only would the wind and rain be back, but I would be at the mercy of every passing car and lorry ploughing through a virtual lake of surface water. I’m not sure whether they just don’t see the water, or whether they’re up for a challenge – let’s soak a pedestrian on our way to work. Whatever passes through their minds, by the time I got to the bus stop I was well and truly soaked, not only from traffic spray but from the fact that water runs off my lovely waterproof mac straight into my trousers! Our bus stop has no shelter, despite many pleas to First Bus and the local Council, therefore I was anticipating an even wetter wait, but then, just as I got there, a bus pulled up. The driver, long blond hair and the chiselled features of a young Sean Bean became my knight in shining armour. I don’t usually catch this particular bus as it goes through the village picking up the world and his dog. My usual bus runs a good five minutes later but because it uses the bypass, is quicker and arrives in the city in good time for my connection to the hospital. However this morning I was just glad to get on board the first vehicle that came by and out of the monsoon, umbrella and me dripping nicely over the floor of the bus!