Day 46. Holbury. Sept 21 2001.

Cold is much better, getting ready to go. Today is to be, though I don’t know it at the time, the last day at Brian and Sylvia’s. We plan on leaving tomorrow but don’t know if my cold will allow it and Heather seems to be catching my illness.

We went to Kerry and Simons for dinner the night before and being around Sam (the dog) exacerbated my cold until death seemed like a nice alternative. Too bad really because I really like Sam. I have no idea what kind of dog he is; he looks like a golden retriever whose legs have been shaved off until he stands no more than a foot from the ground at the crown of his head! Great dog but really easy to trip over.

I woke up this morning feeling very sick and wanting to delay our departure still another more. But Heather had booked our crossing to France for the next Monday and as today was Friday I thought it prudent to begin preparation, all right, Heather started and I felt stupid not keeping up so soon exceeded her and had everything packed.

Packing was an interesting prospect. Once you stop moving you find it very difficult to get going again and once you unpack you find it impossible to remember how you got everything into such a small space. I kept stuffing shirt after shirt after shirt into my pannier. Why I brought so many shirts I’ll never know, I didn’t know I had so many to start with, Most of them are simply extra weight that will never be worn. Once we set out I generally wear my biking shirt and the Nark shirt Chris gave us until they are both too rank to allow my entry into polite society. Then we try to wash it and start again.

As we packed we tried to clean. Man in a sedentary mode is an expansive animal. As soon as we stop we spread out until we fill every available space. From the second day we spent here parts of Brain and Sylvia’s house were impassable to all but the smallest of animals. Cleaning was very challenging task.

A side note to the cleaning is the fact both Heather and I have noticed, that food spoils much quicker here than at home. We would be able to keep bread no more than a couple of days before it began to grow moldy and meat was nearly as bad. It must be all the moisture in the atmosphere. Katherine, who was from Victoria, had said she was forced to move to Calgary because of mold allergies, but unless you spend some time in a consistently damp area it is hard to really understand what she meant. The place I have noticed the dampness most is in the books we carry with us. Some of the pages have mold spots on them even though I carry them wrapped in a couple layers of plastic. How the British manage to preserve libraries and rare collectible books with such a climate working against them is a puzzle to me. I’m afraid I don’t pay much attention to my books and assume that they will be ready for me whenever I want them, what a rude awakening. I will be in for it if we ever move to the coast. The logic of keeping valuable in a salt mine is made much clearer when you see the effects of moisture speeded up.

Kerry and Simon are reviving the dead fashions of the seventies by going to a seventies theme party. Actually it is very strange to see how the fashions of the seventies are becoming the fashions of the early aughts. Except for a few differences, most especially the sequined pattern on the front of her shirt, Kerry’s outfit wouldn’t look out of place at any mall now.

Farah Fawcett hair, shiny stretch pants, disco music and flashy lights, old fashions never die they're reborn when the new generations run out of ideas, or perhaps it is because the teens of now have never seen their parents in disco outfits and so are not revolted while they see eighties as the lowest form of life. Heather was delighted by the costumes and her eyes light up when she see shiny sequins and fabric. I think in a previous life Heather was perhaps a crow and lined her nest with worthless but shiny baubles.

The question that strikes me is: did they have forties theme parties in the seventies?

After we had said our goodbyes and finished cleaning packing, etc. Heather retired to her bed while I, fool that I am, stayed up late and watched TV. Perhaps just to ensure that I would be exhausted for biking the next day.

Next Entry: Day 47. Bedhampton
Previous Entry: Day 46. Holbury

Day 45. Holbury. Sept 20 2001

I am now officially sick.

Looking out at the vast expanse of these two pages I wonder how I can possibly fill them and so develop a new policy that I will write only as far as I can and begin the next days entry where the last one ended. Unfortunately when I bought the journal I labeled each day so I wouldn’t forget, up to 47, so I still have to fill in a couple of pages.

Today was very much a lay at home day. What had started as a scratchy throat and a couple of sneezes soon developed into a full blown cold and I was forced, yeah it was so hard, to sit in front of the television for the entire day. Heather had made plans with Paul and Tessa and so biked off to Blackfield, leaving me alone with my sniffles. Paul had previously fixed Heather’s pannier rack with fiberglass tape but she had forgotten to bring the bolts with her at our last visit, necessitating one more trip. Paul was possibly the most excited Orman about our trip, possibly because he is an avid biker in his own right. He also seems to feel a debt of gratitude to my parents because they hosted Paul and Tessa on their honeymoon. He offered us whatever we needed to make our holiday a success! Pretty generous offer, especially because I think my parents had even more fun hosting the Ormans than they had coming over. I still remember vividly Paul and Dad disappearing one morning in Yoho National Park (I think) only to reappear as tiny dots on the side of a mountain, climbing to abandoned caves.

It is really amazing how open and generous all the Orman’s are. They have hosted us with a generosity that is boundless and they have made us feel like honourary members of their families, even allowing their children to drool, vomit and play all over us.

Heather was at Paul and Tessa’s for a very long time and learnt that my cold was probably distributed family wide at Sam’s birthday party the previous weekend. Thomas was sick as was Nick, Sam, Emily, Imogine, Paul and sort of Heather. At least the family shares everything with their guests.

Oh, I forgot to mention that yesterday was Maxine’s birthday. She was so low key about it that I keep forgetting…. Oh and I think it was Paul’s as well. They were born on the same day years apart. Heather, being the responsible and social member of our twosome gave both cards that we had brought from Canada, beautiful photo cards produced by Dad.

My television watching experience was interesting. The news of course was saturated with events in America and Afghanistan. It is most unfortunate that Bush is president in these trying times. A man with genuine vision could parley the horror that grips the world into a more powerful United Nations, a truly international criminal court system and greater global unity, but instead America concentrates on revenge that will solve nothing, perhaps kill hundreds of innocents and fragment the nations of the world even further along religious and ethnic lines.

Strange how the BBC is held as an ideal that all other news programs should strive towards, a newscaster all others look towards for that quality. Most other British news sources are absolute trash. Reading the headlines it is hard to believe they don’t spark panic everyday. “Terrorists living in our midst” announces one paper when the article describes terrorists catching a connector flight from London. And every page is filled with the minute movements of celebrities. How anyone could care that much is beyond me.

Next Entry: Day 46. Holbury
Previous Entry: Day 44. Marchwood

Day 44. Marchwood. Sept 19 2001

We went to Nick and Maxine’s today in the second to last day in the Orman game “pass around the visitors.” Every family we told we wouldn’t be able to see seemed offended by our desire to leave, until we were forced to relent and visit anyone who asked. We had initially planned on leaving Brian and Sylvia’s after a week…two and a half weeks later here we are still. It wouldn’t be so bad but we did a quick calculation and found that even with free accommodation and lots of food from the generous host families we are still spending almost as much money as we would camping.

Dinner at the Middlesditches was mostly uneventful, a pleasant evening out. Nick and I walked to the local fish and chips shop by a path that left me completely lost and confused. We passed an Islamic shop, at least the owners were Muslim, and the front was adorned with an enormous pair of British and American flags. Even here people are very nervous about world events.

Nick chatted excitedly the whole way. He seems like child at heart who is having absolutely no difficulty adjusting to life as an adult. He chatted as eagerly and as excitedly about stocks and retirement options and the aches and pains of age as Colin did about model planes and Emily does about her Barbie’s. Nick was very excited by the idea of our trip and congratulated me heartily for having conceived of it. He seemed very disappointed that he was not doing something similar until I mentioned the adventure of having a family, he perked up immediately and started chatting about that. He is the most excited father I have ever met and is very into his children’s lives.

The fish and chip shop was very much like every other fish and chip shop in Britain, small, overheated and with a sheen of grease that makes the shop sparkle when hit just right by the too powerful lights. The Chinese couple running it seemed very nervous, hardly daring to meet their customer’s eyes, looking up only to toss a grease-soaked package of paper across the counter.

I am a little surprised at the quality of seafood in Holbury and the area surrounding the Southampton water, or perhaps I should say quantity because we have seen virtually none at all. I suppose with the power station and refinery, along with millions of tons of shipping every year that the fish from this area might be a little polluted, but it seems odd to be within spitting distance (a metaphor that, not tested) of the ocean and to be unable to get much seafood. I have a bit of a craving for crab but it won’t be satisfied here.

After getting our fish we walked back to Heather, Maxine, Sam and Emily, going by another path completely that left me even more lost than before. Dinner was quick and quiet. Emily was very bouncy, eager to show off her Barbie pants and Barbie everything. Not being around very many little girls back hone I’m not sure if there is equal obsession of all things Barbie. Imogine is having her room repainted Barbie pink, a color that strongly reminds me of bubble gum after it has lain on a sidewalk for a few days.

On the topic of toys there was a little boy with a machine gun on the way to the shop. I had never really given my parents “no war toys” policy much thought before but in light of recent events it was more than a little disturbing to see a child running up the street pretending to murder someone. How will people learn not to devalue life unless brought up to it from the beginning? I could be answered that children are only playing and having fun, that child’s games are meaningless and normally I would agree but children can have fun in so many way, their minds are creative and unstructured, so what makes us put guns in their hands instead of cardboard boxes or pens or…anything else? Thoughts that wouldn’t ordinarily trouble my mind have grown dramatically more important in this new state of affairs that plagues the world.

Sam’s toy are for a younger mind and seem better suited, a steering wheel and games with flashing patterns. Both Heather and I were soon entranced. I believe that toys for toddlers, perhaps all toys, are made with the adult buyers in mind. Maxine was very excited by a light sensitive puzzle of Sam’s, every time you put in a piece the animal it represented made a noise because the light sensor was covered. It also made a noise if the house lights were turned off so Maxine kept running between kitchen and living room, to shutting off the lights to hear the puzzle roar. It was bizarre to be sitting in the room with four, sorry three; other adults and listening intently to a child’s puzzle sound off.

Maxine, as a podiatrist, has been writing a series of children’s stories with shoes as their characters. One story was a blatant propaganda piece in protest against high heels.
After dinner it was time for Emily to go to bed, something she could not do without Heather to tuck her in. I’m so amazed at the patience Heather has for children. While I respect children’s role as replacements for dying adults sometimes their minds are more alien to me than the furthest foreigners and I am more comfortable leaving them to others. I am a spectator child raiser. I don’t mind watching them, but I have no talent with them.

After the children’s bedtime it was our own and Nick drove us home. Immediately upon leaving the house, even before getting into the car, they began to bemoan our imminent departure from England, telling us to stay longer and visit them again. It’s nice to be wanted but Brian and Sylvia are coming home soon and might want their own home.

I am a little worried, tonight my throat was sore and I sneezed a lot more than usual.

Next Entry: Day 45. Holbury
Previous Entry: Sitting here, thinking quietly, looking at this pretty flower.

Sitting here, thinking quietly, looking at this pretty flower.

To Everyone:

Well, just a brief (Yeah right) note to let everyone know what is going on here and just what part of the world your Brave Traveller and Fearful Voyager happen to be in.

In fact your overseas correspondents are in exactly the same place they have been for the last 14 or so days. The lesson here is; do not let us into your house lest we get comfortable. We are still enjoying the comforts of Brian (everytime I type that it comes out as Brain) and Sylvia Orman's house. We have plunked ourselves in front of a televison and I think we will never leave one again. Actually the truth is that for recently sedentary travellers we are moving about the New Forest area quite alot.

The day after we wrote last was a terrible day for everyone, the day of the New York and Washington attacks. We spent the entire day sitting at home eyes glued to the television set and worrying about everyone. Britain was as stunned as the rest of the world and is now watching the States' every move with baited breath.

That day also marked the beginning of the Fearful Voyager's new criminal career as Nick Middleditch forgot the keys to his theft proof Club (you know, the thing that goes over the steering wheel) and we got to hack it off with a saw. The ads are right by the way, they do take forever to cut through.

The day after was the day our plans began to change. We phoned the ferry lines to discuss prices. We discovered that not only do they not recognize the Hostelling International discount that we have, they had also never heard of Hostelling International. So, after much discussion with the ticket agents, some of it bordering on rude (we did little for Canada's reputation as quiet and meek that day) we found out that the ferry to Cherbourg (France) was 1 quarter the price. So now we are going to see some of France and none of Spain. We also spent a large portion of the day in Southampton and perused the shopping district. Since we had no money it was a mostly futile excercise but we did get to venture into the adult shops to see if they were similar to ours at home (not like we visit those...ever...really...oh forget it).

Since that day was the first month anniversary celebration of the BT and FV we had a nice dinner with Paul and Tessa Orman, along with their children Megan and Thomas (if you see Amy as she runs around in our backyard remind her that her parents want her to behave). We played Trivial Pursuit, only to discover that, after our bragging, we could answer none of the questions and played another game instead, Taboo. The Brave Traveller and Megan won but Tessa and I think they cheated! Paul also had a topographical map of Europe that showed us just how insane we are, French Alps here we come! The plan calls for a trip to Bordeaux now, but things change too quickly to keep track.

Next day we went to Old Sarum, a great earthen donut on the outside of Salisbury. Kerry Topp was convinced that we would get lost on the way but we found it alright, its the first left after the Electric Circus. Hard to believe that Sarum used to be the seat of royal power, especially since all the walls look like they have melted with age. The groundskeeper was very friendly and kept asking what Canadian winters were like. Since we both were a little tired don't be surprised (Canadians anyway) if you visit Sarum and are asked about Polar Bears in the streets. Sarum has a great view of Salisbury which I would have loved to seen but when they call it Misty England its not some sort of metaphor.

Day after was a trip to Rockbourne Roman villa with Tessa. The villa was great, with many artifacs and surving mosaic floors in the bath houses. They really like to bath those Romans. The museum was intresting too but I couldn't help noticing that the artists who paintined the baths used only naked women, I rather liked them but I kept getting pushed on by my companions. We also spent a tranquil and relaxing time in the village of Fordingbridge before being wisked through the New Forest and going for dinner at Paul and Tessa's again and...wait it was this night that we played Trivial Pursuits. Remember that, there will be a test.


Next day (Its getting dark and we have to bike home from Paul and Tessa's so you'll notice things moving along rather briskly) we went with the Topp family to Hurst Castle. Unless you like large concrete things that look like prisons and require a two mile walk along a gravel bank to get to I wouldn't recomend Hurst. It was built by Henry VII because he was a paranoid git...I mean because all of Europe wanted to kill him. Henry, along with disbanding the monasteries, must have killed off all the good architects and is responsible for the ugliest series of castles anywhere.

Day after, we went to Samuel Middleditches first birthday party where our plans really got messed up. Since we now have plans with every Orman and sundries that we bump into we are going to be in Holbur1y at least until Friday and since ferry prices might change over the weekends we could be here until Monday. If it wasn't for winter it wouldn't be a problem, but hey, we can freeze for friends. We had a really good time seeing most of the Orman (Sorry Topps and Middleditches its just easier to write one family name) and we got the opportunity to see children at almost every stage of development, the best form of birth control in the world. Its not that we don't love the kids but we also love being able to hand them back when they get icky!

Day after, which is yesterday, we did nothing. Hey give us a break!

Then today we returned to Paul and Tessa's where we were fed and fixed, at least the Brave Travellers bike was. We got to learn all the juicy gossip about Megan, Amy and Thomas and...well all the rest of the family.

From here we are going...we don't really know, we might be here when Brian and Sylvia return and we can argue about squatters rights. The plan is for France and soon, but we can't say anything for certain.
Until next time
Lots of Love from
BT and FV

P.S. No, no P.S. this time, sorry.

P.P.S. I really must apologize for my spelling and grammer by the way. I write to quickly to pay attention so it ends up atrocious. I balme Heather entirely.

P.P.P.S The title of this email comes from the muppet version of the Frog prince, watch it, its good.

Next Entry: Day 44. Marchwood
Previous Entry: Day 43. Blackfield

Day 43. Blackfield. Sept 18 2001

Slept late today. Very late.

Heather, who stayed up until early morning reading Harry Potter was up, before noon. But I finally pried myself from my sheets and got dressed. I’m afraid that I might be getting a bit of a cold, wouldn’t that be a wonderful way to be biking. Sneezing my way to France!

We finally got back on our bikes today and pedaled down to Paul and Tessa’s. Paul had promised to fix the broken strut on Heather’s bike and he had, using fiberglass tape and resin. Unfortunately Heather had forgotten her bolts, so we couldn’t see if it had worked.

Paul seemed very excited to be helping us out. We broke a tent peg yesterday and he ran around everywhere trying to find a replacement, we now have four. Paul was working a night shift, four days on four days off, for twelve hours at a time so he disappeared quickly with a promise that we would visit again another day!

Tessa was pretty eager to chat and learned a great deal of Orman family gossip. I sent out a mass letter to all our ardent fans at home. The more I write about what we have been doing the more I realize how sedentary we have been. I’m getting the urge to move on strongly now and I am itching to get going despite the fact that only cold weather and hard biking await us. But we won’t be leaving for a week or so. And then there is only a couple of days before Brian and Syvia get home so we might as well wait for them. At this rate we will never leave. At least Heather gave back Harry today so one less tie that binds.

We showed Tessa our pictures of the journey so far and was amazed to see how few we had and how little territory was had covered, especially considering what we are planning on doing. I had a little scare just now as I realized that this is the last page page in this journal. Where did forty three days go?

Anyway we stayed very late at Paul and Tessa’s sharing stories with Tessa and Megan and occasionally with Thomas. By the time we left it was very dark and windy and there was a fine mist blowing in. The weather is getting worse and still we don’t get going. My mind keeps going back to the same topic. I know that once we have left this place I will be longing for the surety a roof can give.

Next Entry: Sitting here, thinking quietly, looking at this pretty flower
Previous Entry: Day 42. Holbury

Day 41. Marchwood. Sept 16 2001

Samuel Middleditches 1st birthday. Every Orman was invited; Only a few couldn't make it, especially Brain and Sylvia, them being in Canada. It was nice to see all the Orman’s et at. in one cluster.

Paul picked us up in their, relatively, new car. He was absolutely thrilled to get away from their Mercedes; most people are the other way around.

Tessa found it hilarious that she was mistaken for Paul’s mother instead of his wife so that became one of the major jokes of the evening.

Maxine spent all day frantically trying to make sure everything was perfect while Nick looked a little swamped with all the company.

Colin was bouncing from toy to toy with the rest of the children while Hayley sat in a corner buried under virtually every toy that the kids were finished with.

Nicks sister and mom were there as well but I had little opportunity to speak with them.

The birthday party was an interesting opportunity to study party dynamics. After family pleasantries were exchanged the party seemed to fragment into two groups, those who had children to look after and those who didn’t, logically enough I suppose. We tried to hang out with those who did not have children.

Children seem to react with a strange synergy when together, so that two feels like four and four like sixteen. It was very amusing to watch the parents run after their children and to compare the different misbehaviors of the different age groups. The very young ones are best because their misbehaviors are limited to going where they should not and crying a lot, whereas the older ones can be a tad destructive.

I think Heather and I will keep any kids we have until they are weaned off their milk, then farm them out to nannies. Many older societies, Romans and Florentines come to mind, did so, and it seems about time to bring back the custom. I wish I knew if I was kidding or not.

All the Orman’s have booked times to be with us and in doing so have pushed back the departure date until sometime next week. Only hope we can deal with the cold.

Next Entry: Day 42. Holbury
Previous Entry: Day 40. Hurst Castle

Day 40. Hurst Castle. Sept 15 2001

We decided to visit Hurst Castle today. Hurst is a coastal castle built as part of Henry VII’s shore defenses and I had seen it many times from the Isle of Wight ferry. Heather and I had intended to bike there alone, but the Topps eventually joined us and made the whole day into a family holiday. I was a little worried because the only way to the castle was a two mile walk or a couple of pounds each on a ferry. Accompanying us on our trip were two children, the cousins of the child who was run over the other day. They were very sweet and, I think, somewhat apprehensive.

We ate a picnic lunch at the ferry launch, and realized that is was very far for the children to walk and, for such a large group, the ferry was too expensive. Finally we all walked to the base of the spit where Heather and I took our leave and began walking to Hurst, leaving everyone else behind to play in the rocks.

Hurst was a gray castle that I’m sure inspired many prisons. The original keep was a small rounded tower similar to Calshot, which had been gradually built upon. Calshot castle is a perfect donut of stone, sloping walls protecting a moat with a single tower in the center. Because of Hurst’s late additions it looked to us as though someone had entrapped Calshot Castle in a wall of brick or mortar. Hurst seemed almost industrial in its scale and had little domestic appeal. Only soldiers would have occupied this place, no lords or ladies here.



It was almost a history of cannonry in its emplacements from 10 pound balls to 10 180 pound cannons.

 

Such a heavily armed fortress, protecting the Solent from Henry VII to WWII and it is completely obsolete.

There was also an exhibit of the Solent fortresses, heavily armed and armored circles of cannonry that have been erected in the depths of the Solent, accessible only by boat. Rumour has it that they have been purchased as heavily isolated and easily protected homes for the super rich.

Returning along the spit we walked at the waters edge. The waves were running high in the wind and it was exhilarating to walk beside it, feeling water and salt spray over us.



We ran into Simon and Cameron coming to find us. Cameron was not enjoying the walk and having temper tantrums every five feet.

Despite the brevity of the day we returned home absolutely exhausted. Kids and fresh sea air will do that I suppose.



Next Entry: Day 41. Marchwood
Previous Entry: Day 39. Rockbourne

Day 39. Rockbourne. Sept 14 2001

Tessa picked us up today for a trip to the Roman Villa that had been unearthed at Rockbourne.

 
It was very nice spending time with Tessa. The villa was fascinating, though not much remained. It had been the home of wealthy Romans for hundreds of years and sprawled over a huge area.

 
The layout of the tour was interesting as you were forced to walk out to the farthest corner then back, then back and forth again. But it was fascinating to look at the mosaic floors in situ. One floor was in the shape of a swastika and it brought home the fact that Hitler had appropriated roman symbols wholesale to try and give his third Reich legitimacy as the heir to the Roman Empire and hence to Europe.

 

Strange that most of Hitler’s Germany had never been a part of Rome.
The villa also had a large quantity of archeological items. Most of them lost millennia ago or thrown out with the trash. Spring shears and buttons and strigils, all a cross section of life on a very wealthy farm, wealthy enough to boast two separate bath structures. The first was obviously built in haste, to give the property legitimacy as a roman dwelling. The second was obviously the product of wealth.

 
With the possibilities of Rockbourne exhausted we went with Tessa to the local town of Fordingbridge, a beautiful town on the river Avon.


We stood on the bridge watching the water swirl beneath us as Tessa told us tales of their family trips on the canals in narrowboats. It sounds like enormous fun but a little expensive for our style of travel.

From Fordingbridge Tessa took us back to their place with a new route in the New Forest. We passed by Pig Bush where the Ormans had once lost a dog, only to have him walk home, many miles away.

Tessa had us over for dinner, which we shared with Paul and their children Megan and Thomas. Their daughter Amy was in Canada. Thomas went to bed early and Paul was tired from working night shifts at the esso plant at Fawley. But Tessa and Megan stayed awake quite late and we played games. Heather and Megan won but Tessa and I were only a single point behind in a game to fifty points. I must say that we went home very tired but that the day was one of the most exciting and fun we have had since we’ve stopped in Holbury.

Next Entry: Day 40. Hurst Castle
Previous Entry: Day 38. Old Sarum

Day 38. Old Sarum. Sept 13 2001.

Kerry came early this morning and we climbed into the car for a day trip out to the ancient town of old Sarum. It was a nice, relatively tranquil, drive up through the gray mists of a south England day and it was nice to be able to talk to Kerry.

The day dawned bleak and gray and it remained that way throughout. At times the wind and rain was so powerful it seemed to push us along the drenched grass.

 

Old Sarum rose like a great grassy donut out of the northern side of Salisbury. A steep hill rising in a circle to a great flat plateau that had once housed the entire town and now had only a lawn in the center.

  Rising from an excavated moat was a great grassy wall that protected the ancient seat of royal power for Britain.
Inside, the ruin had been so long abandoned and quarried for the nearby city that the walls of the ancient building seemed to have melted under the weight of ages. The shape and power of what must have been an amazingly powerful place was almost impossible to see from the remains.

 
From the walls we could see a panoramic view of the entire Salisbury area. The cathedral rose like a threatening needle that captured the grey clouds as they went racing by.


We both felt nostalgic looking at it, remembering our last trip and our climb inside the tower. The cathedral at old Sarum was little more than rocky paths in the outline of the ancient walls. It was hard to believe that something so large, so grand, had stood for only a few years before being demolished and then rebuilt and then completely moved.


As we walked around Sarum’s walls we wondered if we could see Stonehenge in the distance. We could not, but it graphically illustrates the tourist dilemma. We wouldn’t mind going to the monument but neither of us really wants to fight the crowds of other tourists.

After touring Old Sarum we were picked up by Kerry and returned home.
The return trip was less tranquil than the one going out. Imogene was rather bored with the car and determined to stand up and walk around with Heather frantically trying to convince her to sit down.

Our day ended, I’m afraid, on a very sad note. After eating dinner with Kerry and Simon we walked home only to find our way blocked by police tape. A local man had backed out of his driveway without realize that his daughter was behind him. She did not survive.

Next Entry: Day 39. Rockbourne
Previous Entry: Day 37. Southampton

Day 37. Southampton. Sept 12 2001.

Kerry and Simon dropped us off in Southampton today as Simon had to visit Colin to have his teeth done. We didn’t go expecting to find much of interest, mostly a day of browsing through shops and strolling casually. I’m afraid the city lived up to our expectations. The whole day felt very grey.

We visited the town quay and ate a packed lunch on the Southampton waters, watching the ferries to the Isle of Wight dock. From there we walked to the maritime museum. Southampton’s past contains an era when it was a great port for cruise ships and this was showcased in this small but intricate museum. Now, few major cruise ships dock here, and almost none for a transatlantic crossing. It's sad really that such an elegant way of traveling must be lost from the world. Southampton was also the major departing point for the Titanic and so there was a Titanic exhibit.
What it is about the Titanic that captures the human imagination is so intangible it eludes me. Eerie to see the collection of titantic items from surviving passenger’s pockets. I know that people steal from hotel rooms; great liners must have been the same. But who does it when their grand hotel is sinking?

From the museum we walked along the old town walls, disappointed that the museum of archeology was closed. These we followed up into the central shopping district, which surrounded the main surviving gate of Southampton, the Bargate. We browsed through some bookshops and Heather bought herself an introduction to yoga. We tried to buy a good road map of France, our new destination, but we couldn't find one that showed us the location of campgrounds, kind of important information the way we are traveling.

Finally we were picked up by Kerry and taken home. Tonight we dined with Paul and Tessa and Thomas and Megan Orman and stayed well into the night.


Next Entry: Day 38. Old Sarum
Previous Entry: Sept 11. 2001

Yachts Anyone?

Greetings and salutations to all:

We are now safely ensconced in Brian and Sylvia’s house in Holbury, as they visit our parents in Calgary ironically enough, and we thought that we’d share our most recent news with you while we have the chance.

We left Colin and Hayley’s in high spirits, glad of our rest and eager to ride forth on our bikes once more. A mile later we were less excited and already moaning for the comforts of Rolls Mills farmhouse. That day I’m afraid we both earned the title of Fearful Voyager. The first day back on the seat of a bike was more painful than the day we left Audrey and Den’s; Colin and Hayley had let us relax too much (yes, that’s it, its their fault) so we had lost whatever biking edge we had developed.

We stopped that first day at a place known as the Badbury Rings, more from exhaustion than any real desire to explore. But it turned out to be a fortuitous stop. The Rings were the defensive fortifications of an ancient town that sat at the cross roads of four major Roman roads. Most intriguingly, for the Fearful Voyager at least, was the fact that the Rings were a candidate for Mount Badon, the place were King Arthur defeated the invading Saxons and united England for a time. Since the Rings could hardly be classified as a mountain the association is unlikely, but it was neat none the less.

We carried on from there to the town of Wimborne, where we found a small, out of the way campground that had, wonder of wonders, a swimming pool. We immediately determined to stay an extra day in the place, our sore bottoms playing only a small role in our decision.

The next day the Fearful Voyager magically transmogrified into Dr. Colin Orman, while Heather, the Brave Traveller, became Mrs. Hayley Orman. Using our new alias’ we gained entry to the National Trust Property of Kingston Lacy, a manor house that would be a little beyond the price range of all our friends…combined I’m afraid.

We toured the inside of the magnificently decorated building, The Fearful Voyager being a bit snobby about the paintings of Greek legends and the Brave Traveller gasping loudly at the paintings she recognised from her years of attentive study. Unfortunately the Velasquez was a copy but the Titian and the Van Dyck were genuine (Don’t worry if that is meaningless to you, it was to me). The Fearful Voyager also found the fact that the dinning room was adorned with paintings all depicting famous cases of sexual assault somewhat suspicious, but who can understand the super rich?

That night we retired to our campground and the pools. Ah yes the pool, how we longed to bath our sore muscles in relaxing warm waters. Warm…like Canadian winters perhaps. The Brave Traveller well earned her title this day by plunging head first into the subzero waters and paddling about like a contented polar bear. The Fearful Voyager earned his title as well, taking a good three quarters of an hour to get into the water up to his knees! What an insane wife the poor Fearful Voyager has!

From Wimborne we biked a long trip through some really twisted, not mentally, roads along the British coast and entered the New Forest, new as in 900 years old. Heather was delighted by the heather and Brendan was …nope shouldn’t say that! The heather was a purple carpet coating everything except the New Forest ponies, and sometimes even them.

After passing Bealieu Heath, possibly the windiest place on earth, we stopped in the small town of Bealieu, near to the birthplace of the Fearful Voyagers grandmother. Here we called Kerry and Simon Topp, who lived nearby in Holbury, to arrange a time to meet them…no answer. We called again…no answer. One ice cream cone later we braved the open heath land of the New Forest once more and pedalled to Holbury where at the first phone we called again, only to have their son, Josh, step of their house and wave us over. Kerry and Simon quickly escorted us to their parents house, hand over nose, so that we could shower, and then proceeded to stuff us with food.

The next day, or soon thereafter (days kind of blur for us) we were taken to Portchester Castle, to see our very first medieval tournament. Heather was enthralled by the archery and falconry displays, while I enjoyed watching idiots on horseback run at each other with long pieces of wood and expect to survive. Our guy won, even if we were only cheering for him because we happened to be standing by his tent, but hey, take your wins were you can. Kerry and Simon became the Bravest Travellers ever by purchasing their three children wooden swords and bows! We took a side trip to Portsmouth Ferry terminal where we were told a trip to Spain would cost around £250, only five times the expected price! After leaving and reading the companies brochure we discovered the price to be £44 so now we must work that out, but it gives us the opportunity to stay for Sam Middleditch’s birthday party, next Saturday.

The next day Heather and I took advantage of significantly lightened bikes (dropping our panniers off at Brian and Syl’s) and biked down to Lepe Beach. For those who are not British I should clarify that anything called a beach in England might qualify as a gravel road at home. The Brave Traveller was delighted to see her tree still standing, the one in the picture titled "Roots" for art enthusiasts and proud print owners.

Today we are being hosted by the Middleditches (I remind Nick that all names are spelt phonetically!), Nick and Maxine, who have kindly excused my eccentricity as I got over to their house and disappeared from sight into the computer room.. I’m not a recluse, really. Maxine, the decorator of our cake by the way, has promised to show me to a photo developer so I can send pictures home (I’m getting pretty anxious to see my fingerprints enlarged fifty times). We have also been promised a visit to the local candy store. I think Nick and Colin have an arrangement on the side. Nick rots our teeth and they split Colin’s dentist fee!

Next on our agenda is Spain, with a week or two rest and argument with P&O ferries first, but at least the ferry terminal is only a bike ride away. So until the next time I can write, hope everyone is well wherever you happen to be, and we will contact you as soon as we can again.

Love

The Brave Traveller and the Fearful Voyager

P.S. If anyone owns a really big yacht could they please ferry us over to Spain? Or maybe we can hook pontoons to the bikes, hmmm……

P.P.S. If anyone see’s Brian and Sylvia while we have switched places, Nick gently reminds Brian that he was given a single, simple, task to do from Canada

Next Entry: Sept 11. 2001.
Previous Entry: Topless Women Ride Free

Topless Women Ride Free (not a porn offer, Brendan swears!)

An email out of sequence:

Hello Everybody once more.

I just thought I'd relay our adventures here at Rolls Mills Farmhouse before we moved on into that strange dark land where we have no idea of the locations of any computers.

The first day here we managed to take in the Dorset Steam Fair, an event that showcased ancient steam tractors. Imagine, if you can, rows upon rows of steam tractors, all billowing black coal smoke and white steam high into the air while steam organs pump carnival music out at unimaginable volumes. Next to that is a flea market so big that it sprawls across several fields and it so vast that you can hardly see the other side, or is that the smoke? Next to that still, is a massive carnival midway, filled with shrieking kids, people vomiting from the rides or is that the smoke? Heather, The Brave Traveller, did not react well when I suggested getting a job with the carnival and she just ignored me when I pointed to one of the rides that sported a sign proclaiming "TOPLESS WOMEN RIDE FREE."

We stayed late into the night and forced poor Colin to fight horrendous traffic just to pick us up. We also got the grand tour of Colin's dental practice, a tour that had us both covering our mouths and racing for our toothbrushes as soon as we got home.

The next day we were treated by Colin and Dave, Hayley's dad, to a trip on their motorboat. Heather, despite being a Brave Traveller was teriffied that she would throw up all over the boat, but she didn't feel the least bit queasy. We shall see how she does on the thirty hour ferry ride to Spain. It was very exciting to be on the ocean, salt spray in our hair, wind upon our face, our spines shattering as we leapt from wave to wave, yeah really exciting. Actually we had a really good time, especially racing around one harbour where Colin did not feel like paying his dues and felt we should avoid the harbour partrol! We also got the oportunity that day to see the giant of Cerne Abbas, though not the oportunity to test out his reknown powers. Picture a chalk figure with a phallus around twenty feet long and you can imagine what goes on around him every night. We also got to watch an important English football match were England smashed Germany 5 to 1. Hayley was so excited she was almost through the roof, she was very careful to put down her tea everytime England got near Germany's goal. She sometimes regretted cheering so loudly as she woke up the baby and got to hear another sort of screaming! The highlight of the day was, of course, the chance to sit down and watch American movies on DVD. Travel across all of Canada, a great big ocean, down throught the hills of Wales and what do we do? Watch American movies!

The next day Colin and Hayley raced us about the local countryside, showing us important sites. We took a drive to the stone age fort atop the hill known as the Bulbarrow and got to smell the wonderful english sheep. we also got to see an incredible view over the area as the Bulbarrow is the highest hill in the region. From there we travelled down to the Mill that once served Sturminster Newton. We got a personal tour from the last Millers grandson and we delighted in everything, leaving poor Hayley and Evie (The Baby) waiting in the car and keeping the tour guide well past his quitting time on what turned out to be his wifes birthday. What can we say, we're tourists.

Today Colin took us up to watch him fly his remote control model gliders. Heather was not too excited about watching someone else fly a something. Instead she would rather have sat in the jeep and talked to Hayley about the differences in Candian and British English. Her attitude changed as soon as she saw Colin launch his glider into the turbulent air and sending in practiced swoops over our head. We now know where the shriek of TIE fighters came from. From there we toured outside the Stourhead Gardens, the house was only about the size of the House of Parliment and the replica Pantheon in the back yard only a little lawn ornament. I will be that rich someday, I will, I will, I will!!! Or probably not!

We have greatly enjoyed our time here, resting from our labours. In fact we are so rested that getting going again might be a challenge. The first night was intresting, the soft bed beneath us kept feeling like the ground giving way and I could hardly sleep. Hayley has been a marvel, though she would deny it, she keeps begging off on meals, saying that the baby makes her too tired to do what she would normally, then she puts a full and beautiful meal in front of us. We have gained back any weight we had lost.

Tomorrow we head one, going to visit the other Orman's and the new Forest. In fact we will be switching places with Brian and Sylvia, Mick and Kath and Amy, so if your in Canada and want to see some of the people we are talking about drop by the Fearfull Voyagers parents place. Try not to take too many pictures of them though, they are people too. We will wait around the New Forest (only four hundred years old the forest is, very new if you ask me) for a week or so. Hayley has suggested we visit a medieval festival in Portsmouth, so we will see if we can hijack an Orman or two to go with us. From there we are off to Spain. Spain!! We can hardly belive it will be us going to Spain, it sounds so exotic, and our stomachs clench thinking of going to a county where we know no one. It will be a whole new challenge. They have a completely new brand of funny money that we have to get used to.

We hope to write before leaving but who can say. We are thinking of you all, except maybe you and you and you, so give thought to us now and then. We will try not to rub in how good of a time we are having.

Lots of Love
The Brave Traveller and Fearful Voyager

P.S. Because we have so many people on our address line some email filters think we are junk mail (I hope my writing isn't that bad) or that we have viruses (I've been vacinated I don't know about Heather) (OOOUCH!) and our letters are shunted to other folders. So if you know someone who should be getting our messages but isn't (Hint: look at the people in the address line and see if you recognize any addresses), let them know and tell them to change their settings, its not hard.

Next Entry: Yachts Anyone
Previous Entry: Day 35. Marchwood

Day 35. Marchwood. Sept 10 2001

Today was to be spent traveling all over the New Forest in the company of Nick and Maxine Middleditch. Unfortunately Nick was unable to get his car fully insure and so we spent the day at their home in Marchwood, a small town in the greater Southampton area.

Before we left Brian and Sylvia's we had the opportunity to meet the neighbors, who commented salaciously on the fact that we have not opened the curtains on our bedroom since we have arrived. The truth is that we couldn’t be bothered to open and close them every day, but now, knowing that all the neighbors are peering into our windows the curtains will most certainly remain closed.

Nick and Maxine house was small, a perfect little place.We got the opportunity to use the Internet and we sent out a mass email. We were lucky to be online at the same time as Edna, and we kind of chatted across thousands of kilometers. It was thrilling to speak to her but sent thrills of homesickness through us.

After Emily and Sam (the children) were sent off to bed and we had chatted awhile with the Middleditches we decided to go home. Nick took us on a little drive into the very quaint town of Eling with it's very small marina, tidal mill and many pubs.

It was lit in a soft yellow light that made it seem like a town from ancient history with flame for streetlights. In Eling we were delivered to an Aladdin’s cave of candy. A store that appealed to sweet teeth with a collection of old style candies and new style chocolate bars. Our purchases started off light but rapidly grew.
We spent the night watching movies and gorging ourselves on our new candy until we were sick and we did it all with curtains firmly closed.

Next Entry: Topless Women Ride Free
Previous Entry: Day 34. Lepe

Day 33. Portsmouth. Sept 8 2001

We took a trip into Portsmouth to see a medieval tournament at Portchester castle. It was very exciting for both Heather and I.

Heather was enthralled by the falconry display. To watch a predatory Eagle Owl, with talons as long as my fingers under the control of a slip of a woman was enchanting.

Heather was also very interested in the Archery display, talking about taking classes when we return home.

 
I was interested to compare rates of fire for the difference weapons. 18 shots a minute for a bow to 12 for a crossbow and 1 for a musket. The cannons fired 2 with a crew of three.


The most interesting aspect for me was the joust, something I had never seen before. The rules are different than Hollywood has led us to believe and there were no unhorsings.


Our knight, Sir Edward Stacey,

 
won the joust while another won the grand melee.

 
To see in action things I have studied and in such a setting was almost magical. The castle itself was a solid structure that from a distance looked like the classic ideal of what a castle should be.


It lost little of its appeal close up.

 
From Portchester castle we drove into Portsmouth ferry terminals where we had a long conversation with the Spanish lady at the Bilbao counter who didn’t understand English even though she spoke it and she quoted us ferry prices five times higher than we had expected causing us both a lot of depression that lifted slightly when we read their brochure and saw something like the prices we had anticipated, but we still have to spend time sorting things out.

On the way back we passed Whale Island, where you could still see the ancient submarines askew in the water as they awaited their ultimate fate.

Next Entry: Day 34. Lepe
Previous Entry: Day 32. Holbury

Day 32. Holbury Sept 7 2001

The great pen search continues, oh my kingdom for a keyboard.

Well what a day this has been. It started in relative tranquility, watching The Sound of Music for Heather’s first time and starting to read C.S. Lewis’ “The Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe.”

Intriguingly as we use Brian and Sylvia’s house they are using our place back in Canada. I called home but as everyone was busy promised to call back at 2 in the morning.

We were woken by Brian’s cousin coming for a visit, after which we lounged around in our undress uniforms.

Being in a city once more, coming home to all the lights being off from a blown fuse, and walking along darkened alleyways has made Heather and I feel less comfortable and jumping at every noise. We feel like we want to move on but we are hoping it is merely tonight and that the feeling will pass.

It would be very difficult to give up free accommodation and the creature comforts of a home just because of squeamish feelings cause by phantoms and too long in the county. After all, how can I find the perfect pen is we avoid the cities?

Next Entry: Day 33. Portsmouth.
Previous Entry: Day 31. Holbury

Day 31. Holbury Sept 6 2001

What a long ride today. We slept late, forgoing the morning swim we had planned on and, hopping on our bikes, we were on our way.

The first stage, though a little confusing, passed in relative ease. There even was a path for a large portion of the Bournemouth journey. We biked from milestone to milestone, first following the signs that pointed to Bournemouth then Christchurch then Lymington, Beaulieu and finally Holbury.

We managed to make it to Lymington, with only a brief pause for groceries and a jaunt inside a local library to find a copy of Hesiod, before we truly needed to stop.

Lymington is a beautiful port town with an old quay and high street. I must admit that it seemed to have shrunk a lot since I was last here. How perception changes as you age.


From Lymington we were forced to go uphill, a curse word for bikers, onto the Beaulieu heath portion of our trip. The heath was beautiful, a portion of the New Forest (which is 900 years old, instead of the young 400 I had thought) that was covered in a carpet of heather and dotted with ponies.

Unfortunately it was blasted by a blistering wind. It was, if such a thing is possible, even worse than going uphill. Still we made it to Beaulieu, though Heather, who was in the lead, biked right past the correct turn and kept going, me yelling behind. We will see who leads next time!

Not being able to reach Kerry from Beaulieu we continued on to Holbury and called from the nearest phone box, which was, incidentally, right near their house. After meeting and greeting we were shipped off to Brian and Sylvia Orman’s where we could shower and shave before returning for a pizza dinner.

It was during this respite that we discovered that Heather’s pannier rack had broken. Sometimes I swear her bike is cursed.

The Topp family was a bundle of energy, their littlest shying away from me, their middle child, Cameron, delighting in his ability to pass wind and their eldest, Josh, becoming quite smitten with Heather, a feeling I understand, she being beautiful, foreign and mine.

We stayed up quite late drinking with Kerry and Simon, discussing their plans to move to Australia and stumbling home rather drunk. And now I’m afraid I will be forced to change pens once more.

 

Next Entry: Day 32. Holbury
Previous Entry: Day 30. Wimbourne

Day 28. Sept 3 2001

A stay at home day for the most part.

We took a trip up through Shaftsbury, a city on a plateau with spectacular views all about.

You can see the ancient defensive motivation while at the same time enjoying the beauty it produced.

The major thing we did todays was watch Colin fly his gliders. We climbed a narrow track directly opposite the Stourhead folly tower. We stood on the grassy sides of a steep hill and launched delicate winged gliders into the buffeting wind and the listened to their eerie howl as they climbed the currents of air.

  They were spectacular as they seemed to glide effortlessly above the greenery but looking at Colin and the beads of sweat on his forehead as he struggled to keep his craft aloft dispelled that notion.

 
Colin cracked up one glider while landing and brought the other craft into a perfect landing.
Then, with the wind picking up, we abandoned the hilltop for the safety of Colin’s driving. He took us on the poor mans tour of the Stourhead gardens, peering in from the road we saw the grotto, the lake, the replica pantheon and could only dream about having that money.

The rest of the day was mostly quiet, spent in conversation with the Ormans and each other.
We had a long conversation about what it means to be Canadian and what vitues Canadians hold dear. Both Heather and I found as we talked that we loved how the new generation of Canadians had been brought up with the a belief that we have a right to access all cultures and not only study them but experience them to their fullest.

We also felt proud that we are striving to be ethnicity and nationality blind. As a country built of immigrants it would not behoove us to be so worried about the states and nations we have left behind except to admire all that is good in our mother cultures. I say this knowing it is not fully true but that it is a goal that we would even think about striving towards makes us feel good.

What I have written makes no sense, so I must mean every word of it.


Next Entry: Day 29. Wimbourne
Previous Entry: Day 27

Day 27. Sept 2 2001

Woke today at noon. Yesterdays rest let us stay awake deep into the night, watching British television and American movies. So we were exhausted this morning. In all honesty I would have preferred spending a day lazing about the house preparing to move on. But we have not come all this way to lie about, so the day was spend sightseeing.

We traveled first to the hill fort atop a local landmark known as the bul barrow.



The sheep flocked here despite hoof and mouth disease and since there was no warning to stay out we felt fairly comfortable around them. It was a beautiful site, drenched in history and a heavy mist. I would have loved to stay longer but we had other things to see today. So we we had a whirlwind tour of the Dorset countryside, with hardly enough time to take it all in.

Finally, on a long plunge down towards Rolls Mills Colin decided that our daytrip was not complete unless we saw the mill in all its glory.

We traveled past the tranquil waters leaving Hayley and baby behind in the land rover and ran into a short balding old man who proceeded to take us on a wonderful tour of the little mill. He delighted in showing us how each machine worked and reciting the history of the place as an antiquarian would recite names and places of ancient battles. He was a descendant of the millers of Sturminster and he loved the history of the place. I delighted to discover that every year the little mill pond flooded, rising eight or nine feet and spilling into the mill. Every year for a thousand years the mills here have flooded and instead of complaining or trying to devise a solution all they have done is take the day off.

Midway through our 45 minute tour Colin remembered wife and baby and ran off. I’m sure he had some explaining to do about what happened to our LITTLE visit to the mill.

It began to mist again as we pulled in from our trip and my mind is now, as it has been since the mist began, atop an ancient fortified village, dancing in the rain.

Next Entry: Day 28
Previous Entry: Day 26

Day 26. The Sea Sept 1 2001

Colin took us out in his boat today.

Though our voyage on the ocean waters was brief it was exhilarating and soothing. Our trip amounted to merely dipping our our toes in almost infinite waters, yet it was easy to see how the ocean had inspired poets through the ages, from Homer to Melville.




The ocean is something so primal that it seeps between heart and gut and grabs hold. Perhaps the memory of it is so deep in our cells that we can never forgets and the sound of crashing waves call us home.



Perhaps the similarity between sea and blood calls out to each other and the rhythm of the sea controls the beating heart. Whatever the attraction it is easy to understand the despair the sea can also evoke, for what writer can find the words to convey all that the infinite sea can define with its mere existence.





Drinking from the wine dark sea was tiring and when we returned to the hard shore our exhaustion was great and we slept through the afternoon, a rest that would have grievous consequences on the nights sleep.

We met Hayley’s parents and found that Hayley's Father and Colin are two men cut from the same cloth. They are both thrilled by anything that is man-made and fast and preferably more than a little dangerous and they love hashing out tiny details.

We drove about Dorset countryside alot today, a most beautiful country. On our trips we passed the Maiden Castle, a native hill fort conquered by the Romans which I would dearly love to explore but for which we did not have time. We did, however, manage to stop at the giant of Cerne Abbas, a great chalk figure carved out of the turf on a hillside, outlined in white. He was well muscles and brandished a club and no one could say his true age. He also sports an enormous phallus, which made him the butt of many jokes but also a fertility symbol of some power and, we were told, was usually populated at night by great herds of beasts with two backs.
We had the strange and slightly surreal experience this evening of watching what was deemed an important football match between England and Germany. Given the energies involved, and the intense emotion, I can only be glad that the two formally warring powers have chosen sport as the ground for their future conflicts.

Next Entry: Day 27
Previous Entry: Day 25. Dorset Steam Fair

Day 24. Sturminster Newton. August 30 2001

Today was almost all pure riding. We got up early, early for us at any rate, and headed towards the town of Sturminster Newton. The going was hard, but no harder that any other day. We stopped at Maiden Bradley for a full meal that gave us enough energy for the ride and at another town, I have forgotten where, to pick up some groceries.

The only other stop was at the town of More where the road continued through in a U shape so that we were headed back the way we had come before we realized we were supposed to turn off.

Once we got here we phoned Colin and Hayley Orman and they invited us to stay at their place. Trouble was we couldn’t find it. Finally, after Heather falling off her bike and hurting her calf and me dropping her bike and hurting my calf we arrived.

Rolls Mills Farmhouse, a thatched cottage that has been much added on to in its two hundred year history, with the city just building up to it now. Scarcely had we pulled in when Colin whisked us away on a whirlwind tour of his house and gadgets, leaping from one project to another with the glee of an imp.

After a brief cleaning up they took us on a whirlwind tour to take his children back to their mother. Over some beautiful roads and past some enormous Iron Age forts we went to a nearby town, so nearby that it would take us a day, maybe two, by bike.

Riding in a car, actually a jeep, was a highly disconcerting experience. Fast, far faster that I feel I can handle anymore and dizzying as things rush by you pell mell. I will be absolutely ruined for society when we finally return. We passed some gypsies as we drove and their slow way of life seems more attractive to me at this stage.

We checked over our email today and I find that I am missing family and friends more than I thought I would.
I am composing a long letter to send back. I hope they find it entertaining. We also took this stop as an opportunity to to phone home. Got through to my dad on the second try.
Tomorrow promises to be busy. I only hope we rest on this rest stop.



Next Entry: Gravity Works. Letter Home
Previous Entry: Day 23. Frome