It's a summer weekend somehwere in the North-East of England, near Norwich. It's sunny and the end of a hectic week during which new acquaintances were made amidst an appreciated full schedule of lessons. Some of us even tried out new food, with different outcomes -one of those (the dreadful French toast H. didn't see coming as sweet) will become a landmark and will add a new loyal and assiduous customer to one of the big supermarkets in the area. A safe lunch is a must.
Today the weather's perfect as it can get, not the slightest hint of rain in the air. We get off the coach at the pier and there's your hustle and bustle of people waiting for the next boat tour, gladly killing time with snapshots and introductions and tales of the previous day and our new and fleeting everyday lives.
And when we're back on the coach chatting and snacking we look at our photos and I see the beginning, when the true oath was made, in a picture gracefully captured by Pearl: