We went to the bus stop for the ferryport bus, cunningly near our airbnb, and waited. And waited. 45 minutes before the ferry was due to leave we teamed up with another couple at the bus stop and shared a cab.
On the boat almost all horizontal spaces were taken by sleeping teenagers - about 60 of them - in jackets labelled 'UK and Irish Rugby Tour'. Goodness knows what they'd been up to overnight but they slept solidly for three and a half hours. When they woke in Holyhead we discovered that they were from a school in Argentina and had lost every one of their matches in Ireland. Not so surprising when we learnt that when the rugby tour was announced in the school, almost everyone signed up to go, whether they'd played rugby before or not.
We got to Holyhead train station just in time for the train I'd hoped we'd catch, except we and other puzzled passengers were told it didn't exist. An hour later we caught one that did exist but the train it should have connected with at Crewe was cancelled. That didn't stop the platform notices telling us how many carriages the cancelled train had, where first class was, and listing all the stations it wouldn't be stopping at. Other trains we might have caught were variously cancelled or delayed due to signalling problems. Or staff shortages. Or an incident that was being investigated. Or earlier problems between Watford and London. We got as far as Stafford and waited some more.
Hey ho. By the time we finally reached Oxford we were so pleased not to be sitting any longer that we happily walked the half hour home, baggage notwithstanding.
And at home, the boiler wasn't working...
...but I found a photo on my phone that my son must have taken of me on sunrise day (in extras for sentimental reasons).