After the night thinking of my early life in Tottenham, then catching up with messages after which the day trip from San Diego to Mexico was abandoned in favour of Pacific Beach outing in the sun. Then to bed, missing Wiggly
I was awake early; probably because I had gone to bed very early and it was some time before Diana and the girls woke up and we could get going.
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As I lay in bed early today, I remembered my youth in Tottenham, the street names and places that I used to know and the names of the friends I had and neighbours that I knew.
As soon as Di was up and it was decent to do so, I dialled up my UK CIX database and collected messages from both Wiggly and Mark Rainer who wanted election information and details of my return to the UK.
She had received my postcard as well as my messages and was getting on all right. However, there would be no chance to swap messages after this until Monday and so I tried to call her later. By this time, it was late on a Friday night and all I did was succeed in upsetting myself and missing her as she was undoubtedly out with Michael.
At least I could leave a message for her to say that I was thinking of her. A chance to change some more pounds into dollars first thing, after having breakfast at a Coco's.
Today, we decided to take the trolley car down to the Mexican border with the idea of walking across to try shopping in Tijuana but we were put off by the droves of beggars that made the exercise seem like running the gauntlet and so we turned back.
The drive to Pacific Beach where we relaxed and sunbathed after I had hired surfboards for the girls for the rest of the afternoon. It was another day of nice, fine and sunny weather and, with great care, I stripped off and allowed my torso to get some sun.
Eventually, we packed up and drove back, stopping off at a Denny's on the way back to the hotel for a nice meal. Then the girls had a swim at the hotel pools whilst I watched that old film on the TV, Ben Hur, and we all bathed to get rid of the sand of the day.
In sadness, I typed up my latest message for my love; knowing that she would not get it for another two days at least. So ends this month of March, in separation from her, half of the world apart.