Got word from the daughter to say she and family got home safely… though I think to say that might mean a reassessment of the meaning of the word ‘safe’.
From reading between the lines… no detail of course… it wasn’t the best journey ever. She reported that the flight had a two hour delay somewhere along the way, and that at the other end, in Heathrow, the pushchair got ‘lost’ and *that* took another two hours to find! Then they had to scoot across London to catch their train home… which they only just caught. And finished off the holiday with a three hour journey back home.
Ahh… home sweet home. Nice, except that some kind souls had decided the thing they needed most while they were away was to have their house burgled… so they did it *twice*. Apart from the other bills that build up when you’re on holiday they now have a police bill to pay for having the house boarded up! Talk about having salt rubbed in the wound!!
Still, at least they *are* home and can start to take stock of where they are and what they need to do. Apart from paying bills, they need to sort out a migration application asap… Australia isn’t perfect, but it’s pretty close to it as far as I’m concerned!!