Still not a word

My friend still hasn't been in touch. I shall ring her on Sunday, because that's about the only time when she isn't working - though she often goes out doing walking or boating things. If I could drive, I would drive over to see her, though it's a fair old trip through the depths of the Essex countryside.

You don't realise what a vast area Essex is until you drive through it mile after mile, and see the way the countryside changes, and the pretty villages and vast skies and narrow lanes where you're suddenly surprised by the sight of boat masts and sails poking into the sky, as you didn't know you were near water. It reminds me a bit of Holland. What a quirky country that is. I love the way they encourage cycling,with really good cycling lanes everywhere that don't suddenly peter out and leave you floundering amongst the buses and lorries. And then there's the visual shock of driving down one of their long, straight country roads and seeing a boat sailing along at a higher level than the road, down a raised canal. I always felt free to express myself there. There's an artistic, eccentric vibe. One day I must go back.