Jellycat found he was now spending some of his time inside an oversized purple handbag. He didn’t mind too much as it generally signalled a new adventure.
Mothers bag is always safely strapped into the back seat, for mothers bag is of the large variety and needs a chair of its own! If placed on the floor for the journey it would be too easily kicked around by fidgeting feet and this would make Jelly’s journey most uncomfortable.
Once Mothers bag is strapped into the back seat of the 7 seater and the audible rumblings of the diesel engine can be heard, Jelly reaches up inside the bag, adds a little pressure to the top and the bag springs open; this is Jelly’s chance to free himself by squeezing out; Jelly squeegees himself between the bag and the side back window. His little chocolate button nose pressed up against the window pane acts as an anchor.
Settling himself Jelly watches the countryside whizzing bye; it’s a two hour journey and there’s so much for Jelly to see.
Rolling hills and field; many have now become lakes due to the heavy rain, the wild fowl are enjoying these new delights. The blue sky with dappled white clouds hiding the bright winter sun, it’s rays bursting through the cracks highlighting the furrows of the muddy fields below waiting for this year’s crop.
Birds of prey flying overhead as hikers wonder through the bare tree forest with twig nests tightly embedded and squirrels make their merry way.
Soon the countryside is replaced by sound barrier fencing with secret padlocked doors; no more rolling hills or trees but roads with houses nestled close together; buildings, office blocks, supermarket car parks full, sign posts to new and interesting destinations like; Beaconsfield, Watford, Uxbridge and today’s destination ‘London’. Matrix signs warning of danger ahead and traffic getting heaver ,the car’s speed slows so Jelly can see inside the passing cars. The car that has its backseat piled high with toilet rolls, the man in his brightly printed jumper or the little girl cuddling her multicolour teddy while she sleeps and an old man wearing his Sunday best and flat cap.
The car makes its way along the motorway; under solid concrete bridges and out the other side leading under the flight path from Heathrow, allowing huge metal birds to fly overhead as they leave white scorch marks in the sky.
Skyscrapers, tower blocks, empty Victorian water pump houses with their large decorative chimney’s and the impersonal hotels waiting for the weary travellers. Orange boxes that take your photos; red controlling lights, small and large roundabouts, places of worship with flags fluttering in the breeze, large red double Decker buses and sirens of emergency vehicles obliterating the bird song.
The wide roads becoming narrow streets for families to go walking, wrapped up in their winter woollies; keep fit enthusiasts jogging along the pavement whilst the cyclist weave amongst the cars.
The return journey always stopping at the services! a large glass fronted food emporium that caters for travellers every needs. Coffee Shops, Golden Arches, Deep Fried Chicken, Pasta or Pizza even the well know shop who’s 19th century humble market stall slogan was “ No need to ask the price everything a penny” and should you have enough time before your next journey to read, then there is even a high street News Agents.
After such a journey there’s nothing quite like returning home for a hot mug of chocolate, biscuits and resting your weary bones by sinking into your favourite chair.