My return train will depart the depot to chug me back to merrie olde Manhattan in just about four good old American hours. Please don’t meet me at the station. I don’t like a fuss. I’ve had a lovely, lazy, lethargic time in this quiet pastoral land of farms and shopping malls. I’ll tell you all about it when I can post the photos. But don’t wait up tonight for them as, well, you know how the Flaming Curmudgeon is on a Sunday evening with a bottle of wine.
