The Cheesy Rucksack Incident

Rubbish - two months off but I'm back and through to the end of the year.
I recently completed what I'd forgotten was a challenge which was to take a 60 year old lady who had never been abroad before to France. It wasn't much of a challenge to be honest as she's an absolute dear and it fitted nicely with plans to visit Portugal. We 'did' Paris, well the Eiffel Tower which is quite a lot like Blackpool really, although I have to say that the food in Blackpool tower is better (although still dire), and it has a circus and a sea view so Blackpool actually knocks the spots off Paris, in tower terms at least. Hayden, our 10 year old companion was most impressed, so much so that he now wants to visit Blackpool next time he is in the UK.
It was a great holiday, not least because I was ready to come back at the end and glad to pull into Manchester. European trains are fabulous and I heartily recommend them over flying for more than just the carbon reasons.
A lot happened but you've hopefully had postcards, or rung me or we've met or something so I won't do the whole holiday as what I really want to blog about is Desperate to be Doris which opens tonight but I will recount the 'Cheesey Rucksack Incident'
I drove up to Seia on my last full day to get a new mountain hat and various delicacies. Included in this was a serra cheese - mixed sheep, goats and cows milk, unpasteurised, very soft at room temperature (runny - remember this, it is important). I packed my rucksack carefully with the cheese at the top so it wouldn't get squashed (and remember the location of the cheese). I spent a lovely evening in Coimbra - if you ever go visit A Capela - the little chapel that has been renovated as a fado club (Portuguese version of the blues sung by women in Porto and men in Coimbra) and has fado every night and expensive (by local standards) wine. It's well touristy but very well done and the Vinho Verde was chilled and delicious. I spent a night in cotton sheeted air conditioned luxury in the Oslo hotel, had a monstrous breakfast and checked out to explore the botanical gardens and the University, leaving my rucksack in the boot of the hire car. After a lovely day exploring I dropped off the car, sat down to write last postcards with a beer and got the train up to Coimbra B where my sleeper was departing from. 20 minutes to go and I looked down to see something white and squidgey oozing from the zip at the bottom of my rucksack (remember where I left the cheese?). I quickly realised what it was and sat there for five miserable minutes thinking 'I could just ignore it' but then accepted that as I had over 24 hours on trains including a night in a cabin with five strangers that wasn't an option. Two minutes later I'd got the rucksack unpacked and had a swarm of flies buzzing round me as I scraped handfuls of molten cheese from the inside. I did the best I could and then on the train unpacked again and tried to wash stuff (it was on everything) in the train toilet under a tiny tap that dribbled water. I merely succeeeded in covering everything, including myself with a thin film of cheese.
My rucksack - since scrubbed in the bath still smells of it. The cheese that I did manage to save I had on some toast at work yesterday lunchtime and it resulted in the most malodourous wind I can remember having. I cooked some of it into a pasta sauce last night thinking that boiling it would kill whatever has developed in it. I've just had a big bowlful and am sat at my desk hoping for my work colleagues sake and the Choir in the performance tonight (and the audience to be honest given yesterday's experience)that I'm right.