Wilson, assuming that our car will be what he calls the Wedding Carriage, has decorated it with messages, and a white ribbon at the front.
We'd got as far as Gatwick before my nerves snapped: stopping the car I stepped outside and cut the strings trailing the tin cans from the rear bumper.
Thereafter W passed the time rehearsing the Wedding Song he's written for tomorrow — he can't manage the guitar in the passenger seat so he's making do with his spoons and kazoo.
I don't mean to be critical, but after a while I began to think I preferred the sounds of the tin cans dragging behind us.
There won't be any post tomorrow due to the wedding — but I hope we'll be back Wednesday, perhaps with some of the wedding photos!
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