My second last day of my holiday was spent visiting my old flatmate from my London days, who now lives in a thatched cottage in Oxfordshire. My sister and I caught the train down from Hertfordshire, where we had a quick flit around Oxford itself, then headed out to Cathy's house in a little village for lunch. We hadn't seen each other for 18 years, but it felt like yesterday. Isn't that the best when that happens? In that time she has married and had 3 children, but it still felt like we were flats mates in London 25 years ago.
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