We stroll the streets but have to keep an eye on the time. Rosa, Dolenta's mother is giving us a lift to the airport for our flight and we have a deadline of twelve to check out of the hotel. We leave everyone at one and are off to the airport. Of course we are far, far too early but are able to check in and go through to departures. Thanks to speedy boarding we are third in the queue to get on the plane !
It is the bloody English. All my time on holiday of course I get looked at, sometimes spotted but as soon as we land at Gatwick the pointing starts and the remarks are made. What is it about us that we both need to make remarks about others loud enough for them to hear and point and I am not even en femme !
Our journey home is both uneventful and synchronised perfectly, getting us at our door around nine. Then the frustration starts, oh dear where are the house keys? Trying to unpack in the drive outside the front door in the dark is not a good idea and we are rescued by our neighbours who let us unpack in their house. Keys found we spend the next two hours drinking wine and getting very slightly tiddly before we retire around midnight holiday over. A holiday which while short has just been the most fabulous holiday. To be dressed every day whether it was all day or part of the day has been spectacular. Admittedly having the company of others helped no end but the total lack of pointing and whispering was remarkable. I didn't spot any other 'girls' so it was not as though we are a common sight. To be accepted by your nearest and dearest is more than one can ask but to pass amongst strangers is amazing too. The hotel staff and establishments we visited saw me both as male and female and not an eyebrow was raised, amazing, although one comment perhaps explains some of it, yes Madame, when you said I dressed classy.
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