The first cold day of the year. Not cold enough for frost but chilly enough for the post lady to complain about the biting wind. Bob and Sophie are completely oblivious to the change in temperature. If anything they seem even more fired up and full of life than usual. Polish Lowland Sheepdog weather.
A little before noon the Old Farmer sets off for Belarus in his motor home. I help him carry the gravestone he's had made for his fathers tomb from the back of the ancient Mercedes into the back of the equally venerable Ford Transit . We wedge it firmly between the base of the bunk bed and the cooker. '' Should be safe there " he says as if carrying tombstones in an ancient motor home is something he does every day. We stand at the gate and wave the old fellow goodbye.'' See you soon " he shouts out before disappearing in a cloud of blue diesel smoke. First stop Strasbourg, then Berlin, then Warsaw, then the frontier.