And then there was one.
That one small post tomorrow will bring to an end a journey that started in the small hours of a sleepless night in February, morphed into being a proud cheerleader for England, wobbled around the edges of anti-capitalism when that phrase meant so much more than just anywhere but london, and has resulted in a daily postcard from somewhere in England for the last 149 days…regardless of being in places with incredibly poor wifi signal, weekends away at weddings, trips abroad and even the aftermath of a stag do.
Trust me when I say I have survived some near disasters on the road to tomorrow. There have been nights when I have stood arm aloft in the middle of a deserted road in a place I am unfamiliar with at two minutes to midnight trying to get the words to upload. Thankfully for me, and the neighbours curling one hand around their curtains and another on speed dial to the local constabulary, those words finally went, but I did think a number of times that I might fail in my commitment to provide a daily delivery.
And so, with 24 hours left until the opening ceremony I have just 32 words left to write. 32 words that, by the time the floodlights are fired up in the Olympic stadium to signal London 2012 is about to begin, will take the word count to 4800. My Olympic challenge will be complete and in the process I will have produced a not so insignificant body of work on behalf of St George.
So what of the last remaining post?
Well, it is a pure personal favourite. A place I adore and would recommend to anyone in the world. It is one of those places you build a holiday around and one that stays with you when you leave.
Where is it? Well, a few of you have suggested to me where your number 1 post would be, but as yet they do not match tomorrow’s final entry. There is not long to go before you find out, by which time I, like the rest of the country will be looking forward to the London Olympics starting – and taking a healthy break from worrying about the world’s wifi signal strength.