On our way

Tuesday 29th December was all a bit of a rush; doctors for our private malaria prescriptions (NHS quite rightly won't prescribe for them, we'll see why later), a solid hour for Elaine on the phone trying to find a pharmacy that had enough Malarone to fill the things, a consultant's appointment for Cliff's hip problem (who wanted to give him an epidural - yes, 22 hours before we fly - Cliff declined), a quick visit with Elaine's niece Vicky, a trip to the post office and library to drop off our library books (didn't want THAT kind of fine when we get back) and then back to Mum's for some last second packing. We had to get our final rabies jab at the travel clinic at Gatwick that afternoon, as our local surgery couldn't get hold of it, so it was a quick detour there on our way to Heathrow for that (also the Boots at Gatwick had managed to get the 300 Malarone tabs we needed). If you ever need to go to the travel clinic at Gatwick, don't let anyone tell you it's near the south terminal, it's not, it's right next to the north terminal. We asked the man at the information counter who directed us to the back of the south terminal (it's not there), a man in a high vis jacket (always thought they could be trusted?) told us it was down by the coach station (it's not) and finally when we realised it was at the north terminal, the shuttle bus driver was immense help - Cliff: "Do you know where the travel clinic is?, Driver: "Yes thanks", his conductor friend thought that was very amusing. Driver: "It's at the south terminal" Cliff: "No, it's definitely at the north terminal", Driver: "Whatever". It's at the north terminal.