The Winterfood Diaries

The Winterfood Diaries

Thursday, 29 December 1988

Cirencester Chrimbo


My No.1: ‘Life Kills’ – The Human League



 

Today, Flash and I left Wisbech St Mary and set out to Peterborough to meet our friends Jonny Badcock and (his girlfriend) Kat Hill.  Once we were all together, we finalised our details and arrangements.  Flash and I ate pizza and then, eventually, our journey began. 

 

We four progressed on NATIONAL EXPRESS COACHWAYS to London (many hours later).  At London we changed coaches for Cirencester in Gloucestershire.  When we arrived, hours later, it was unfortunate that as we left the coach I lost one of my boots by accidentally leaving it in the luggage compartment.

 

Cirencester felt warmer than London and the four of us delighted in the beautifully white and grey old buildings.  I felt quite passionate about them.  But where was Donna?  That was the question.  But only moments later it was answered when she appeared.  We all hugged happily and it was a wonderful feeling to have some of my greatest friends all assembled in one place.  Donna had missed us and we had all missed her.  Flash and Donna met for the first time and it seems to be the beginning of a great friendship.

 

We dumped our stuff at Donna’s place – the Davidson family home, which is extremely beautiful; a flowered + frilly sofa, a huge stone fireplace.  It’s very traditional but also very modern.  And for the next few days, this lovely home belongs to the five of us as Donna’s parents are away in Australia.

 

Once settled in, Donna gave me a Christmas present of two great-looking Doctor Who books that I am now dying to read. 

 



 


 

How kind of her.

 

She then rang the coach people to trace my boot + took us to a very gross pub in Cirencester, which was far too busy and a bit too boisterous for my liking.  As drinking establishments go, it wasn’t too pleasant.  It was packed to near-bursting with the local youth and in my opinion (and those of Flash and Jonny), the heat, bustle, sweat and lack of chairs really wasn’t what the doctor had ordered for such a (hopefully) quiet and restful holiday.

 





 

 

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Next time: ‘Cheltenham Christmas…’

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