I love how the BBC's latest round of nature programmes are all "the most dangerous expedition ever" to "unexplored lands". But I can't really mock them, they're fucking brilliant, mostly.
It's been a week. Or it will have been a week, tomorrow. I still miss him horribly, look for his grumpy face when I head downstairs in the morning and find myself collecting loo-rolls for his amusement (Dorris was never as interested as he was in knocking things over). The house isn't empty without him, but it does feel... less full. There's a Pete-shaped gap that I know won't be filled, but will merely become less sharp.
I hope he went happy, and I hope that he and Daphne are back together - there is a strange consolation in him leaving almost two years to the day after she did.