Great Granparents Donald and Davis (D39)

For some reason I didn't realise I had today, or at least I was confusing today with tomorrow. So it feels like I've got an extra day. I'm at Vivs and she needs to go to work. The plan is for me to see Matant Marceline and Robert Benett, my eldest cousin, in the afternoon.

Viv drops me off at the train stations and I buy the ticket to Carlton. The train goes from platform 4. No worries. I make my way to platform 4. A train is due in 6 minutes, marvelous. One problem, the list of stations on the helpful screen does not list Carlton. So I go back upstairs and ask someone and sure enough platform 4 is correct. If it says 'and all stations', that'll be right, I am assured.

There are lots of people on the platform so this must be a mainline destination. Stay calm. Still not mentioning Carlton though. All sorts of people on the platform. Shapes, sizes, colours, expressions, all different. A lot look Mediterranean. I always thought Italians and Greeks were a good looking lot. Not any more.

A train is pulling in. 'The train arriving at platform 4 is the 13.45 to ##***## calling at *##$#** and all stations'. Excellent. But still no mention of Carlton on the screen. Oh well, this must be it. The train pulls in, the doors open. I'm just about to get on when a guard seems to be in the doorway. I know, I'd better just check. Don't want to get it wrong. That would be a laugh wouldn't it? Not. 'Nah mate you want the next train to Sutherland in about ten minutes' he says in a peculiar mixture of Aussie and (I think) Greek. Thanks.

The correct train comes along and on I get. The carriage is one of those double decker, air conditioned good ones. They have a seat that you can flip over to change the direction you're facing if you want. I face forward as not sure when to get off.

That's a point, when do I get off? I forgot to check how many stops it was and which station was before Carlton. I think it was about five, or was it four? I definitely can't remember.

There is a line map at the front of the carriage. No, that would mean getting up and looking at it, and giving away that I'm a tourist and lost. That would make me look silly. Not that it's already obvious, with my 'man bag', shorts and flip flops.

Shall I ask the young lady facing me with her i-pod in her ear? I don't think so. She might think I'm trying to make up a feeble excuse to chat her up - 'Do you travel on this line often, can you tell me where the Carlton station is and would you like a dance?' Anyway, she doesn't look like she'd want to be disturbed and is studiously looking out of the window. I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable and so avoid eye contact altogether. My daughters tell me about travelling on public transport and weirdos staring at them. I definitely don't want her to think I'm a weirdo.

What about the Chinese man sitting next to me? Oh, I don't know. He's reading a magazine with squiggly writing that goes up and down, presumably Chinese. What if he's not very good at English? Then I'd have to shout and people would know I didn't know the way, and it would be embarrassing. No one else looks likely to be able to help. There are some 'young people' playing their music loudly. 'We don't all want to hear that stuff' I think to myself, silently. I turn into a grumpy old man for a while. No seriously, why do people think you'd want to listen to their racket? They seem to live in a world of their own, oblivious to anyone else. Someone in the carriage has severe BO. How can people walk around and not notice themselves? I have a discrete sniff, just in case it's me. Not me. Honestly.

The train pulls in to a station. It can't be mine, and the platform sign confirms that it isn't. The train announcer announces something indiscernible, then 'crackle crackle, the next stop will be crackle crackle'. Hmm, well at least there's an announcement. I'll listen carefully next time.

Next time comes, and no better. At least I figured I probably have enough time between seeing the platform sign and and the train stopping to get off before it leaves again. Still it would be nice to know.

Fortunately, out of the blue, my phone goes and it's Viv. She wants to check I got on the train OK. That's nice. 'I'm just pulling into Killi Willi station (or something)', I inform her. 'Where?' she responds. After a little confusion it turns out that rather than being on the wrong train, this is a new station that she hasn't heard of before. So brief panic over and now more confident of getting off at the right place.

I duly do get off at the right place. I don't know what all the fuss was about. Marcelines is about 10 minutes away. Robert comes and gets us and we go to his house for a cup of tea. There I meet Karen, his wife, and we discuss family stuff again. Veronique lives and works in London for the Nursing Council in some capacity, and Alexandra lives at home with mum and dad. Robert and Karen are coming to London in a few days to see Veronique. I get to see the view of the city from their lovely house, and the story behind the rebuild they went through about seven years ago.

Richard Benett, Robert's brother has scanned in a load of pictures of our family from way back when. We have a look, and Marceline helps us to name the various people. There are various family names who are all a bit of a jumble to me. There are Abrahams, Derblays, Davis's, Donalds, and of course Benetts. Where they all fit is still a bit of a mystery to me, but I have got one more bit of the tree. I also discover that my father had two brothers who died. France was second born and died age two of what sounds like septicaemia of some sort. The other was called George, the last to be born, age ten days, cause unknown. Robert burns a CD of all these photos. Now I just have to remember who's who. I might have to get my father onto this one.

So then Marie-Claire, Marcelines youngest and JD, Viv and Joss's sister, comes to take us to her house for dinner. Marie-Claire too has a lovely house and I get a brief chance to catch up with her. The evening ends all too soon. It's been a long day by now and I'm ready for bed. Viv is up when I get in, so we look through the family photos. She seems to know most of the people. There's a picture of Granmere Suzanne's mother Marie Davis (nee Donald) and Marie's sisters Marthe and Rose, and her brother Louis. There is also one of them all with their mother Louise, the mistress of Dr Clarenc. There's also a picture of Suzanne's father David Davis. There are lots more sisters and brothers of Suzanne, but by now it's in one ear and out the other. They had so many children in those days, I wonder they coped. I certainly can't , so it's off to bed. Tomorrow really is the last day. I think I'll try to write some of this down.

Wouldn't it be nice to have a house in the sun, like JD and Kim have? Within easy access. My cousins could come and stay from Australia, and my children too when they have their own, and my friends...I start to dream, as I drift off to sleep.