Getting to England

The hardest part about getting to England is... getting to England! Our plane was an hour late leaving Phoenix on Monday morning, then another delay with the trans-Atlantic flight connection in Detroit. But that wasn't the worst part. I got to the gate about 35 minutes before departure (one has to be there 30 minutes before , so I was cutting it a little close), and they had a terrible time finding the code for my seat and boarding pass. At first, I wasn't even sure I would be able to get on the flight, but eventually after three agents had tried, I finally got a boarding pass. However... you guessed it, it was NOT the aisle seat I had reserved. I was now in the MIDDLE seat for 10 hours! Not only that, but the woman on my left went to sleep and the longer she slept, the more she leaned in my direction. She was progressively encroaching on what little space I already had. In some countries, I believe we could be considered to be married now!

All that aside, we arrived at Heathrow airport about 9:00 am Tuesday morning. After standing in line for customs and then retrieving our bags, we got directions to the bus station. A labyrinth of tunnels and ramps finally found us at the bus terminal at 10:20. The next bus to Salisbury was at 12:20. After a hot chocolate and a bit of walking around to get the kinks from the flight out of our bodies, we had a lovely bus ride through the countryside and arrived in Salisbury about 2:30 pm. A short (?) walk to the YHA with our 45 pound bags and we were HERE!

Our next task was to walk to the train station to see if our bikes were still there. Carl has been to England four years in a row, and each time has left his bike locked on the platform at the train station. Each time it was still there. Would our bikes be there this time?

AMAZING!

Well, it is truly amazing that our bikes were there again, and except for a little soot, were no worse for the wear. We rode back to the YHA and began to clean and adjust. Last year, I had settled for the standard seat sold to me. NEVER AGAIN! This year, in serious doubt that I would find a seat that I liked at any of the shops in Salisbury, I had brought my own (very comfortable) seat with me. It was the correct choice!

With our bikes clean, our bodies a bit exhausted, we had dinner at a local pub, returned to the Y and quickly crashed. No problem falling asleep this night!

Wednesday found us visiting various shops to not only buy some essentials like propane gas to cook our meals on the road, but also to purchase those proverbial chotchkis (Yiddish for knick-knacks). We can never seem to find too many and are always enticed to buy more. Such is life!

We made more fine-tune adjustments to our bikes, secured our chotchkis to various cross-bars and bike tubes and set out for a lunch of meat pies. Cookie (Carl) had a veggie, I had a chicken and asparagus. They are actually turnovers, and are quite tasty. After lunch, a new camping store caught our eye, and we were compelled to enter. And yes, I was COMPELLED to buy a new day-pack!

It was a little gray, and we felt a few drops, but nonetheless, decided to go for a 12-mile day-ride. As we were about to leave on the ride, a couple walked past and the man stopped. He said he admired our bikes, and then began a ten minute exchange with us about a long line topics.

The Brits are truly a friendly, and very talkative sort. Once they hear our American accents, they launch into a barrage of questions about us followed closely by where they had been on their visit to the states, suggestions about where we should visit if we haven't, where they live, the politics in England and America, and all manner of other information.

Earlier in the day, a chap had passed us on the street and when he heard our accents, asked us where we were from and then proceeded to take several minutes to tell us the “real” story of how the Battle of Little Big Horn had been started by a cow! We are not sure if the story is true, or if he just got Custer mixed up with Mrs. O'leary's cow from Chicago! All-in-all, it is a truly fascinating process to both observe, and be involved in.

Oh yes, our day-ride. Last year, this was the ride that set me up for pain as I had the very hard, uncomfortable seat. This time, the one I had brought from home made all the difference. It was smooth sailing (actually riding) this time, and I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

Back at the Y, we sat in the common room and promptly... took a nap.

A late dinner of fish and chips for Cookie and mild (notice the spice wimp said, “mild”) lamb curry for me finds us both writing our blogs before retiring.

Although I have logged into my e-mail and had some contact with work about a couple of web changes I needed to make, I have lost all track of time and days. I constantly have to pause to focus in on, “what day is it?” This is a good thing! The only other long vacation I took was a two-week kayak trip on the Colorado river in the Grand Canyon. That “big water” trip provided many thrills, chills, spills, and a great deal of adventure! I can only believe that this three-week tour of England and France with my best friend will surely yield the same... and perhaps more!