31. Devon the Island.


Howling gales, dashing rain – and floods. The railway lines from the South West are all blocked.  Devon and Cornwall are pretty much cut off from the rest of Britain – at least by rail. Much of Sunday is spent periodically checking on the updates of how I can get back to London tomorrow.

Is it critical? Yes. The treatment is three weeks of five days a week. I know Dr. Wetzler would try to help if I couldn’t get there on Monday but he is an orthodox Jew in a very orthodox area; he cannot work on a Saturday.

The problem is not just the flooding; there’s engineering work on a tunnel on the line from Paddington to Exeter so those trains are being diverted via Honiton. And now the line to Waterloo is closed by a landslide.

I often don’t realize that I’m stressed. I’ve got so used to it through years in the media and all the crises/adventures that it’s not until afterwards when the tears come that I know how relieved I am. I’m uncomfortable too. The vitamin C therapy is bound to have some effect on my body (even before it does the job it’s meant to do, which can take some time). It has made parts of me very raw and sore ... and I’ve been travelling so much, which, nowadays, makes my neck stiff. So that’s a bit of a nagging worry as well.

Today I know it’s going to be okay. The voices in my head tell me. The websites and the radio don’t. I try to phone Exeter St. David’s station on Sunday afternoon and get through to some guy in India. Well he’s not going to know any more than I do when I’ve got the local radio and Internet! Hopeless service!

I haven’t written much about my guidance or the messages yet – didn’t want to hit you with too much WBX but they are there – and they are sound. I know that because they have warned me of disappointments on this journey when I really, really didn’t want to know about them. And they have comforted me all along and encouraged me to strive.

‘They’ are my guide or mentor, the Holy Spirit, God, my higher self. Call them what you may, they are my spiritual rock. They have never let me down – when I remember to listen to them. This journey is helping me to listen a lot more. But it is much easier to listen in Devon than it is in London – or Birmingham.

We go to bed, fairly confident, that London is achievable. Worst case scenario is bus(es) to Bristol and a train on from there. It’s quite likely that there are trains to Waterloo as the Crewkerne landslip has been sorted. It will be tiring and possibly long but it will be okay. And Dr. Wetzler will fit me in late if needs be.

On Monday morning, we are up early in time to have a good, long cuddle in bed before we get up. I hate leaving Lion and the beagles; I know it must be done but being away really has shown me (again) how much I want to be with him. It is true that absence makes the heart grow stronger. All this weekend he has looked after me and we have stopped nearly every time we passed in the house, to touch or cuddle. This week, without my being there, he may have really faced up to the possibility that life without me might actually happen.

If it did, he would cope; he’s like that. But we don’t want it to happen. We have so much to do together and so much to offer to God from this Earth.

First Great Western on Twitter says that the engineering works are finished and the line to Paddington will open at lunchtime. But trains are running (slowly) to Waterloo although there is no timetable. That’s fine.

We get to Exeter and Lion parks the car as I go in (he is quite prepared to drive me to Bristol if necessary). I ask one of the women on the information desk about the next train to Waterloo. She looks at my ticket and says ‘your train to Paddington is running and it will be faster.’ The engineering work has been finished and all is well.

Not only that but there are hardly any people at the station. Most have taken the option of cancelling their tickets and getting a refund. Only those who have to go are travelling.

I tell Lion the good news and cry. Again, I didn’t know how stressed I was. This is half relief and half sadness at leaving him for another five days. I think I need those kick-ass boots.

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