The Accidental Archaeologist

(Almost) Homeward Bound

It’s 07:00am, and I’m once more sitting at the Diamond Shoals restaurant and once more having an argument with the mayor about biscuits vs scones. GET ME OUT OF HERE!!! (The mayor, btw, is enjoying this heartily). Were all getting a little punchy at this point, but spirits are high at the news of all the airports reopening. I leave around noon to take Mark & Andy to the airport for their flights home, and then tomorrow I get to leave at the crack of dawn to get myself and one other crew member for our flights. Hard to believe I’ll probably get to come home on the exact flight I originally meant to take. It feels like I’ve been trapped and delayed just like everyone else. It’s actually been fun, though, (if somewhat aggravating) to have a bunch of folks around to keep me amused during my last week here. It was going to me all by myself at the hotel this week drawing artifacts and cataloging inventories.

As usual, we all ended up last night in one of the rooms trading stories and trying to avoid talking about the university or archaeology. The students were very sweet and got Mark and I thank you cards and champagne to toast a successful dig. We joked about tipping off the sheriff’s department that Mark was leaving today so that they could all hang out at the county border and wave goodbye. I imagined a bunch of deputies standing by their cruisers with a banner saying “Goodbye and Good Riddance” or “Don’t Let the Door Hit You On the Way Out.” As it is, Mark somehow managed to steal the car keys last night, and he’s been gleefully dangling them in front of me this morning. This could be bad, since I’ve several times flatly refused to give him the keys to let him drive around the island this week. We had a very “mum and dad fighting” moment the other night when a bunch of students had piled into the car to head back from the site and Mark wanted to drive them back. He even went as far as to get in the driver’s seat and to start making “vroom vroom” and “honk honk” noises like Mr Toad. I had to sternly order him out of the driver’s seat while the students protested loudly through their tears of laughter.

So all of the madness should be ending tomorrow (for me). With any luck, I’ll be back on English soil Saturday morning, whereupon I will take over the washing machine for an entire day, try my best to catch up on Lost, and generally try to recover my sanity. I look forward to having a real pint with those of y’all in Bristol. Brace yourselves, I’ve got lots more stories to tell! For everybody else, I’ll do my best to get out a podcast and a bunch of photos as soon as I recover a bit.