No trace

In retrospect it was a mistake to still be draining the dregs of a cafetière at 6pm yesterday. Winding down at bedtime presented some challenges, and I was awake late. For the first time this year it was warm in bed and I had to fling the window open during one sweaty episode.

I received a police clearance certificate through the post. In theory receiving this ‘no trace’ (of a criminal record) statement is another one of the thousands of pieces of my visa puzzle done. Or it would have been if it didn’t display a piece of information that I need amending before submitting to the Mozambique High Commission. I had to call the Criminal Records Office and ask if they would amend and reissue it, which they surprisingly agreed to. Some more days lost but almost one step closer. I’ll see what happens when I eventually submit the amended certificate to the Mozambican authorities, as currently I don’t bear much resemblance to the hale and hearty fellow pictured on it.

In the evening, a soaking on my bike and a warming shower before bed.

The Little St Mary’s Church garden is verdant and magical. Spot the skulking grey cat.