And then there were two

A few weeks ago, Bob made the decision to no longer come along for the ride. "It's too cold!", or something like that, I hear... And there he was, him warning me that we were going to be roughing it!(Apparently his family were asking who was this young woman that was joining him and Tony on the trip. I gather they were a little concerned I'd be too much of a princess/too delicate for the trip. Bob  explained to them I'd been to Scotland on a pushbike and so I was pretty hardy. #sogladididthattrip #biggestachievementyet 👏💪😁#cantgetenoughoftheemojis)

I do hope our Bob's been reading these entries and that he'll enjoy continuing to read these updates (from the warmth of his cosy, snuggly-wuggly, fuzzy-wuzzy armchair, armed with a cuppa char and nice choccy chippy biccie).

So, that means it's just the two of us (I'm sure we can make it if we try...) *ahem*: Cousin Tony/our Tone/Gorge and I.

Oh. And the van, of course. (Ivan/Ivanka are best suggestions for names so far. Sadly I can't figure out how to do a poll on this so please do continue to comment with ideas - though I don't think it's going to get much better than the suggestions we have now! NB: The author of this blog reserves the right to decide if it's Ivan or Ivanka at the end of the trip, based on performance!)

Bob dropping out means that our Tone will head back to ol' Blighty with me at the end of the few weeks. And what this means is that we'll need to find somewhere to leave our trusty (🤞) stead before Tony heads back out there to go on to Japan.

When Tony and Teresa were driving to Australia, they befriended a local taxi driver who was happy to stick the van on their drive whilst Tony/Treez came back home to sort other bits. From what I read, Tony/Teresa became close with the taxi driver's family, eating dinner altogether, etc. and they, no doubt, still send one another Christmas cards. <3 Here's hoping we get that lucky...!

With Tony and I both returning to the UK at the same time, it also means that we could potentially change our plan a little, get across to the east earlier than planned and jump on the train back to Moscow, flying back home from there. Oooooh!!!!!

I've read up about the train hostesses that run their carriages like super-duper clean military camps. I'd love to experience these infamous women first-hand but I guess all of this will depend on what happens in the first week or so.

And before all of that, I need my passport back from the Russian Visa Centre. 

I joked with Tony about this last week:

"And course, our visas have arrived now, haven't they, Tone?", I says, jokingly. (I hasn't got mine!)

"Yeah." he says, with an airy tone (that Tony, so full of tone - fwiw, he does have shins).

"Eh? What do you mean 'yeah'?", I says.

"Well, I got mine last week. Dint you get yours?" he asks.

"No I bloody didn't!", I says.

Fingers crossed the visa arrives this week, peeps - or else then there was one...!