I've lost count of the days....

After being in Quebec City for months, we began to feel like natives but realised it is time to move on.

With one false start we made it to somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic. Luckily my Dad (Martyn Smith) is a seasoned sailor and he got us back on track. With his steady miles and a huge contribution of literally thousands of miles from Tom and H, we decided to give ourselves a little treat and stopped off in Ireland. Obviously we couldn't leave until St Patrick's Day (due to the moon, religious week, and other such things it couldn't fall on the Sunday 17th) - so we had to celebrate twice, both on the "official day" - the 15th and also the 17th. Naturally I had to partake in the colcannon, champ and boxty, (yum, I was in heaven - potato heaven) and bread with lashings of butter. The meat eaters savoured the traditional Easter dish of corned beef and cabbage - obviously all washed down with copious amounts of Guinness and whisky. Not surprisingly it took us a while to sleep off our over indulgence.

Tom and H needed to get back for the London Marathon and pushed us on, when we would rather be in bed.

We finally touched down on GREAT British soil three weeks ago, unfortunately my camera was ruined by the saltwater, so don't have any evidence to prove it....

It was amazing how quickly the miles passed once we got back to the UK. Before long we could see the Parkinson Tower and that gave us the final inspiration that our weary limbs desperately needed. In total we covered 22745.27 miles - impressive eh?

We've had a wonderful journey, and I certainly couldn't have made it without such a wonderful team (gosh, I'm gushing like an Oscar winner), but, as Dorothy said, "there's no place like home".