It’s a year and a month since Willma and I first became acquainted; which I realised when I took her back to Needingworth Campers for some minor warranty work yesterday. She’d developed an interesting jingly noise coming from the rock’n’roll bed. This turned out to be a screw holding down the seat panel, which had worked loose just enough to rub against the metalwork. After half an hour Steve and Andy had taken it apart, fixed it; and also rehung the fridge door the other way. No charge. They are great guys. As my brother and his wife live five miles away we went for a pub lunch, very pleasant too. I had time to do a bit of birdwatching at the RSPB Ouse Fen nature reserve – lots of birders there with scopes and binoculars: there was a particularly rare Peuduline Tit there, beyond the flock of Bearded Tit that are usually present. But what got me going was a flock of lapwings that rose in a murmuration, climbed a hundred or so feet in the sky (30m +/-) then slowly dispersed.

When I reflect on where we’ve been together, and our adventures since the first try-out it’s been quite a journey, spiritual as well as physical. 7700 miles, five countries, and lots of interesting people. who I hope I haven’t bored too much. Life is more bearable; fewer trigger incidents, and when they happen, as they inevitably will, I seem to be facing them with a greater equanimity. Ambulance sirens for some reason tend to provoke flashback moments, awkward, since I live so close to the hospital. Regarding the big journeys of the year, I have laid a series of memories over the ones Rosie and I made together, plus of course some new ones. And, like a second adolescence, I have begun to work out who I am as a singleton; ‘widower’ seems a more familiar term the more I have to fill it in on forms as my marital status. I am now a member of that club: someone commented that there was a a privilege in living alone. Not that it would be my first choice, but it does have its compensations.

It has been a while since I got back from trip to Germany and the Twinning event in Gravelines. Life is filling up a bit. Every Monday I go walking with a group of friends, mostly Labour members of my age, which ends up in the country park café with bacon sandwiches and analysing world events, and listening to birdsong on the Merlin app. One day a week is shopping, one day a week is washing. One day a week is bread making, sometimes other baking or batch cooking; the grandchildren seem to like my bread, and at least some of my cooking. James finishes school early on Wednesdays so we get to hang out together, then have a family tea when the others arrive. And there’s been a by-election to help with, and Labour Party socials. I’ve joined the Folk Club, and been to a couple of gigs, harking back to my first adolescence. And there’s the Town Twinning Association, where I’m now Membership and Social Media Officer: having presented a development plan I now have to implement it.

The other aspect of the aging process is the endless rounds of medical appointments and ailments, connected with either diabetes or the lung condition. Fortunately nothing seems too serious, so on we go. But as oldies do, much conversation seems to be on this topic. I’m told the French have a phrase for it: Monsieur tu-as-quoi-de-mal?

Now Willma has had her annual service, and her quirks have been rectified, I think I need to start planning some expeditions. I keep reminding myself I know how to do winter camping – in February I went to Salisbury and survived. For the start of February I’ve arranged a week in Florida, to catch up with old friends. Then, I think I need to go and explore Sutton Hoo and associated archeology. James and I had a lovely day out at the British Museum, and I want to see how they are getting on building the replica of the buried ship.

There’s some serious planning to be done for the annual May expedition. I did get a hankering to revisit Provence: there’s a lot still to visit there:

• Le Palais Idéal du Facteur Cheval
• The ochre mines at Roussillon
• The Verdon Gorge, Castilanne, and more vultures
• The Route Napoleon
• The wine towns of the Côtes du Rhône
• The Riviera maybe
• Flamingos, White Gardien horses, Black bulls on the Camargue

Winter is a good time for getting the maps out, and planning routes and stops. 2025 starts here – but first, Christmas.