I am sitting here with my travel journal wondering where to start. I have doubled its used pages in the last month. I guess the beginning is always an effective launch point. My parents were meant to visit in April and were interrupted by a little ash cloud problem. The boyfriend had always meant to come in June, and it worked out that he would arrive in early June, and stay for two weeks. My parents booked their flights to arrive the day after he went home, like two jet planes passing in the night. This was a brilliant situation and at the very least saved me a trip to London. Because I love planning, I immediately began sorting everything out, booking hotels, hostels, ferries, hire cars, and train tickets like nobody's business. Then, all I had to do was wait. I remained no more than cautiously optimistic about the whole thing because I knew it would be difficult to take another disappointing blow and I wasn't going to believe in any of it until I saw it. The morning I was to meet C, I was waiting at the rendezvous point, when all of the variables I hadn't thought of ran through my mind. What if he got delayed, lost, couldn't access money, lost his bags, or was detained at the border? How would I know? How long would I wait for him there? He had my mobile, but while waiting in the tube station I had no signal. So many things could have gone wrong that I had no contingency plan for. But, suddenly, there he was! Really, really there, and I could scarcely believe my eyes.