We knew that we wouldn’t be at home for the Referendum and so we’d applied for a postal vote. We were beginning to think that our application had gone astray but the papers finally arrived and we filled them in and put them straight back in the post on Monday morning.
Storm worked on his motorbike in Laura’s garage in the afternoon while she and I went shopping. He was really chuffed with himself as he’d got it going and had ridden it down the street and back. There is only one problem with it though apparently – it won’t turn off. The brakes all work so at least Storm didn’t have to keep riding round the street until he ran out of fuel.
Tuesday morning, between showers, we headed into Chester to make final arrangements for dry docking the boat next week for propeller replacement and bottom blacking.
I spent the afternoon sewing while Storm attended to emails and in the evening we headed out to The Institute for a drink. I’ve yet to see another woman in there, although I’m assured there are lots of female members. We’ve never been on a Friday or Saturday night so perhaps they only come out at weekends.
Today we got up early and headed to Leeds. We’ve had our eye on a plot of land for sale in the centre of Chester which was going under the hammer at an auction at Elland Road stadium (the home of Leeds United) today. We’ve never been to a property auction before. We got there early and registered to get a Bid Number, satisfied the money laundering regulations and then we were allowed to view the pitch and the stands from one of the hospitality boxes before taking our seats for the auction in one of the suites. The auction began at 12.30pm and the auctioneer began by setting out the rules for placing a bid.
It was soon evident that we weren’t the only people interested in Lot 2. We didn’t even get a chance to use our Bid Number. It finally sold to a telephone bidder for three times the guide price and for more than double the price we were prepared to pay. By 1pm we were on our way to IKEA where we consoled ourselves with a plate of meatballs.
Back on the M62, we hadn’t gone far when we ground to a halt with all three lanes gridlocked. The radio TA announced the congestion was due to a sheep on the motorway. We were in a Baa B Queue! Just as suddenly as we’d stopped, the traffic set off again after a wait of half an hour and we travelled back to Chester without further incident.