Within the last hour or so, we have safely returned to planet Normality to discover a pile of junk mail on the floor, 1738 spam emails and these strange things they call mirrors and flushing toilets.
How many folk were wondering, even betting, that Barp would get stuck in that now infamous Glastonbury mud? Yeah, she did. And we were towed out (btw - scary feeling, being in a bus that's sliding on mud...) by a great big tractor, who's driver thought it was a good idea to attach the tow chain to the bumper. Cos yeah, a bumper would withstand a tractor towing a 5 tonne bus out of mud....
Having pulled the bumper off, he discovered the chassis and we were free. Poor Barp.
Erm, embarrassed apologies for somehow managing to send a drunken text message come email to this blog. All will be explained, I promise (I hope)
This hopalong soul is now a sneezing, coughing hopalong who's heading off to bed. Until I post a decent account of it all, here's a view taken whilst waiting for the tractor to rescue us.