We returned from the weekend in the Peaks in good time this morning, but with a poorly barakta. I ceremonially unloaded the bike and camping stuff into the gangway, with instructions to clear enough space so I could get to the fridge, and went to make good use of the hour-and-a-bit remaining car hire by doing a milk and heavy things supermarket shop.
On returning, barakta had done as requested, and skulked off to bed. I unloaded the shopping, fridged the fridgables, grabbed the Brompton and returned the car to the SEEKRIT cubbyhole in Bournville where it sucks up electrons and waits for the next user. A quick ride back down the hill, and I hung up the wet tent and finished putting away the rest of the shopping. At which point I found the parcel shelf for the car, which barakta had moved from the conspicuous place where I left it, presumably so we wouldn't be reminded of its presence by tripping over the bloody thing.
So, considering my options, a bit more tidying up in order to extract the bike trailer and a suitably hitched bike, then back up the hill to Bournville, discovered that fortunately the magic car computer would still unlock the doors for me (and proceed to moan about my reservation being over), so I was able to return the shelf without creating a new booking. Then a CYCLIST appeared, stage right, upon a rather nice raw lacquer S-type. He looked at me and my empty bike trailer quizzically, so I imparted the words of wisdom:
Top tip: Don't forget to put the parcel shelf back before returning a hire car.
