So, he's gone. He'd scarcely got back, and now he's off again.
Where he was back from was Glastonbury. Where he's off to is Tokyo. Then Vietnam, Australia, New Zealand, Fiji. It's the culmination of my son's gap year.
David's travelling with his mate Kes, whose parents are taking them to Heathrow right now. They set off in beautifully calm and laid-back style at 9:30 – just comfortable for an 11-o'clock check-in. Fifteen minutes later they were back and David was sprinting up the stairs to find his malaria potions.
They both have guitars with them, so if they need any more life-saving medications en route, they'll be able to busk for the money.
We'll see him again briefly at the beginning of September, in transit to university.
We're practising for the empty-nest years. His sister Blythe is in Germany on a trip with the school orchestra. But she's back soon.
In August she will be with the orchestra at the Edinburgh festival. To make sure she gets from there to the Reading Festival in good time (not with the orchestra – this is pleasure, not duty), she's arranged a flight back for herself. Enterprising, I call it. How come I can't afford any of this stuff?
