Here I am back, and only 1 tooth down. The other 31 fighting fit and ready for more years of active chompsing!

The whole thing went amazingly well, and if possible I now love my dentist (and Mrs Dentist) even more. Less than 5 minutes, and the anticipation was SO much worse than the actual event....not to say longer! Actual event, under 5 minutes, worrying about the event about 3 and a half weeks. I was still quivering like a pooping whippet throughout, mind you.

The trip started well, ferry and pre arranged taxi to airport all tickety boo. Both ferry and airport had plenty of sockets for me to plug in my old school lap-top...that and simple text on my antique non-smart mobile is my only means of communication when travelling.

I am about one stop short of actually carrying an office desk around with me, tied to my back. A sort of travelling admin tortoise.

I snuk round the airport, watching the cleaners to see where they'd plug in their floor whizzers, so I could plug in me gadget!

Flight was ok except the man in the seat next to me had decided to do that manspreading thing, legs wide, arms wider, elbows on both seat arms, squishing those of us on either side into the wall of the plane or in my case, the aisle. Turns out the seats on Jet2 ARE small, I noticed the shoulders of even the tiny little elf-sized female in the adjacent row were protruding over her boundaries.

Behind me someone was eating a liver sausage...I mean really, on a plane??What sort of an inconsiderate unthinking dolt would do this?

I noted also that I was pretty much the only person reading an actual book. Looking round some had their noses buried in a gadget, but the majority looked like somebody had pulled the power cables out of them. Slumped, asleep, staring into space, possibly dead.

But, I arrived to meet my lovely friend at 2 of the Manchester airport hotels (couldn't get 2 rooms in the same hotel!), for a night of girlie gossip, supper and drinkiepoos. Having landed at Terminal 2 I can tell you its a flipping long walk to get to the other 2 terminals, the rail station or our hotels. I kept catching glimpses of them as I schlepped along the miles of walkways, but never seeming to get any closer...always separated from my goal by car parks or large roads with larger roundabouts. In the end, I asked for directions and was told to simply call the hotel from one of the courtesy phones! I was only a few hundred yards away but the whole design is not conducive to easy travel for the intrepid walker! A bus arrived within minutes and I was whisked the 300 feet to my hotel, lovely chum, and a VERY convivial evening.

The net day it was trains to York and WBD (worlds best dentist). Ah yes, that particular torture known as British Public Transport.....I'd already had to tiptoe a way through all the pending strikes when in the planning stages.

Arrived at the airport station to find the train I had a ticket for was cancelled, I was told to get a train to Manchester Picadilly, then a tram to Victoria, and pick up a train there, which I did. The 1st train I could get from there - also cancelled, no one seemed to know why. The 2nd train was on time until 2 minutes before it should have been leaving when it displayed as 25 minutes late!!!! So there I am watching the display, grumbling, when I hear a tiny little guard mumbling into his hi-viz something about 'Train to Saltburn -anyone else for Saltburn?' and I realise the delayed train has magically become UNDELAYED and I am standing right by it!! Eeeeeeeekkkkk...even though the overhead display is STILL saying delayed until 13:37!!!

Then they announce that this Is the train that SHOULD have started from Manchester airport at 12:45, but didn't due to Technical Difficulties,'.....so in fact, I am actually on the train I should have been on all along.

THEN, at Leeds!!!! Suddenly the train is full of police, and an announcement saying we are to stay in our seats, and not try to leave as the doors have been placed on manual closed!!!!! The guards say they don't know what its about either. Lots of people marching about, looking important... all terribly Line Of Duty!!!

Anyway, I arrived, the tooth trauma was swiftly over with and then on to Mr & Mrs Lovely Dentists equally lovely house in the Yorkshire Dales for a few days R&R. Including grand tour of actual wild and windy Yorkshire moors! Cue Kate Bush in a swirly skirt.

We spent Day 1 at a gorgeous National Trust place (and yes, we did do coffee & cake. And the gift shop. I know, I know I am officially an old fart) place called Fountains Abby and for some reason I was telling the chums about HH & I going to Anglesey, and seeing the red squirrels, and this bloke behind us piped up with 'There are red squirrels not far from here, up at Snaizeholme'

Now, I have to ask, at this point has YOUR dentist ever showed you his squirrel? I bet he hasn't!!

My peeps suggested we ought to go and take a look...so the next day, we did!!! It was well over an hours drive (glad I hadn't suggested it - poor dentist...some relaxing w/e this was! ) but off we went, and saw about 6 squirrels!!!! And we had the place totally to ourselves! It was a bit bloody brilliant! at one point the 3 of us were silently fist pumping the air, and grinning like loons at each other as the squirrels came forth and did squirrely things. They came really close to us, and we did photos, the good ones sadly are not mine, I kept missing the moment and only getting a squirrels bum!

We'd already met a road full of sheep on the road on the way there, and on the way back, almost in the dark, we almost ran over an owl that was standing in the road! Fortunately we weren't going that fast so the owl just flew away...but gosh, what a day of Wildlife!

Next day was off to Much Wenlock for more trains, more fun with airport friend, fish and chips and an evening of almost unbearably brilliant female fun watching The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas - I've not done that in about 25 years!

Not content with visiting the WBD, I got an appointment also with the WBHD (worlds best hairdresser) step forward one Tia Jones from Salon Ten . After a splendid English breakfast (see random sausage fact at the bottom) at a proper tea shop....Tia worked her usual magic, sending me back to Tinos a vision of swishy splendidness with no badgery bits....its a shame she can't sort the WHOLE of me out so brilliantly......but at least the hair is good.

I also had time during the trip to stock up on all those important little purchases............900 scented nappy bags (cat litter tray duty), reams of wet loo paper, good birthday cards, real shortbread biscuits, new undies, decent Cuppasoups, HH's fave chocolate, contact lenses, a large piece of cheddar even a Ryas porkpie (all wrapped up in spiderman paper - thanks again Supa-Barb) and other sundry items too numerous to list.

You'd be amazed what you can cram into a small wheelie case, and still have it come in at under 15 kilos!

No doubt I've missed lots of bits out, lest I put you all to sleep but this is the general gist of my trip. The trains back to Manchester airport were uneventful, And my one night at an Ibis Budget was uneventful but won't be repeated......never have been a budget sort of bird, and this felt very like the set of Prisoner Cell Block H, especially the public areas which really have the ambiance of the visitor centre at Holloway.

Plane trip the next day was good, quite full, and this time my over-the-aisle seat neighbor was a Jewish gentleman, what I think is called a Hasidic jew (is that rude, I don't mean it to be!) with the really big hats, and the hair ringlets and a huge coat, he was one of 4 but the others were further down the flight. The minute the seat belt signs went off, he was up, ferreting about in the overhead bins, I actually started to worry a bit...was he about to pull out a gun or something? Could he maybe sense the porkpie I had concealed in my bag?

But then he returned with a little book in a zippy case (metallic pink - surprisingly), the Torah I am assuming, as well as a massively bejewelled shawl thing, and a black and silver embroidered cushion. He started twitching and tapping his feet...ritual? Fleas? St Vitus dance? Then he did something curious with an apron type thingy, and rolled up a sleeve, and took one arm OUT of his big coat, and wrapped a thin leash round his wrist (I thought blimey, he's not going to shoot up, is he?) and then also popped what looked to me (it couldn't be, could it??) a go-pro on his bonce! Then he completely covered himself up with the shawl.

There simply isn't the room for this amount of religion on an Easyjet flight.....I am afraid to say as I got caught looking, looking a bit worried at that, I think, and he said, 'Do not worry, I am only praying'. I said "No problem. Looks a bit more complicated than me taking off my coat and muttering "Please God, don't let this bloody thing fall out of the sky "

Other inflight entertainment was provided by the French cabin crew lady getting very cross with my other neighbour who had pre-bought a vouchers to purchase food and drink.....she wanted to use half the voucher on this flight, the other half on the way back...no can do, said Miss Air-France...tu ne comprends pas, espèce d'imbécile?

So she ended up buying 3 muffins and 2 coffees which I am pretty sure she did not want. Shouldn't laugh. But I did.

Once at Athens it was simply bus to the port, but as expected, wind had stopped play as far as the boats went so I got another night in a hotel, this time at the MUCH nicer Hotel Avra......sea/port view room, diner and wine for £1 less than I paid for the Budget horror at Manchester! Just another reason to shout "I Love You, Greece!"

3 ½ hours on the ferry, some very spectacular scenery, snow capped mountains, bright blue winter skies, white horse water and soaring sea birds and I was back on Tinos with HH and the Girls by noon. And this time HH had had no poorly cat adventures so that was good!

Here is a random fact. When I get an English breakfast served to me, I generally wrap the sausage in a napkin and eat it later, when cold. Having done this with the Lovely Airport Chum on Friday, imagine my delight on Tuesday when I found the afore mentioned cold sausage lurking in my hand bag. And any sausage surprise is a good sausage surprise. And yes, before you ask, I ate it.

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17Nicole Lauwerijs, Debbie Fisher and 15 others