Check out of the apartment, manoeuvre the car out of the garage and head somewhere before returning the car to Marseille St Charles and checking into the hotel. We decided a shopping plaza would be easy, free parking and we would be able to fill in the time. Not quite! It was Saturday. The traffic was manic, and Marseille is a huge city, and the roads are not easy to negotiate. And then we had to drive through the centre to Gare Saint Charles. The challenges mount! There is a lot to be said for organised travel!

We were familiar with Grandes Halles du Vieux-Port and seeing it was just one stop on the metro and we had a few hours and our stomachs to fill we decided that was the best destination. Brilliant move. We got to take in the Friday afternoon vibe, a few drinks and some tapas. 

The hotel was well located, and we had booked a package which included a couple of hours in the Spa. Bad move. It was just awful! Anyhow – you get that.

The last time we came to Marseille was on the Eurostar- a direct service from London. It must have been a special because I couldn’t get a direct return. It was a matter of getting to Gare du Lyon and getting on the metro to Gare du Nord and then we would have a couple of hours to fill. It all worked well. 

We had agreed to catch up in London with friends. There was a slight hick-up and our friends did arrive at the rendezvous a day early but not perturbed they met us at Paddington the following night – my red hat garnering their attention. We initially attempted to store our luggage, but it was prohibitively expensive, so we found a pub across the road and settled in and easily filled the first hour. That was at the Charles Dickens.

Max spied a beagle obviously very happy at the pub across the road and given that it was a beagle she thought it would have good taste and after reviewing the ambience, décor and menu she decided the Sawyers Arms, would suit our requirements. She booked a table, and we headed for dinner. It really was a delightful pub. There were several floors, nooks and crannies all on different levels. We had our own alcove with a section almost tailor-made for our luggage. We settled in for an evening of good wine, good food and above all good company. 

Max suggested we use the Elizabeth Line to reach our hotel at Heathrow. It was gold. Paddington has the Heathrow Express which would have taken us to Central and required a change. This way we arrived at Terminal 4 and the walk bridge led us to our hotel. The departure was just as easy as we retraced our steps and then after just one stop, we were at Terminal 3.

Heathrow is just enormous. We had plenty of time and John was twice disappointed. Firstly, when the WIFI didn’t work to enable him to view the NFL Grand Final but then when his favoured team lost again, he faced disappointment. 

First leg – LHR to HKG -the eleven-and-a-half-hour flight began with a ‘technical difficulty’ which caused us to wait on the tarmac for an hour. Lunch was served after an hour in the air. Both of us find sleeping sitting up quite a challenge. I popped a pill and eventually had an hour or two.