On the Road Again

So, I thought I would start today's post by talking about driving. I'm starting to enjoy it and have actually regained that sense of accomplishment I felt when I first got my license. It's really very cool. I have always enjoyed driving and the idea of being unable to just hop in the car and go where I want was distressing. The roundabouts are starting to make sense, which is a relief. If you aren't completely sure of your exit, just drive around again to get your bearings. Of course, you do tend to tick off the other drivers if you hesitate. Believe me. I know.

There are almost no Stop signs, which means that almost every intersection is a 'yield' situation ('Give Way' is what it says on the signs). Makes sense when you think about the idea of economy. Rolling stops use less gas. My sweetie has arranged a couple of driving lessons so that he can get a license to drive manual transmission vehicles (you have to be able to prove you were tested on a manual to get a license to drive one here) and according to his instructor, rolling stops are the order of the day. I think we're going to have to get a drivers' handbook to learn the actual rules here, as I have a feeling there are a lot of finer points we're missing.

On the M6 near Birmingham

The use of headlights as a communication tool is marvelous here. In Toronto, people have forgotten that headlights have a use other than intimidation to make the guy in front of you go faster. Here, they are indespensible, what with the extremely narrow roads and all. Driving through the village, with cars parked on one side of the road, a two lane roadway becomes a one lane. If you meet someone coming the other way, whomever gets to the row of parked cars first is the one that takes right of way. Usually, if there's confusion, one driver will flash headlights to indicate, "I'm staying here, you go first." As the other driver approaches the one that waited, he often flashes his headlights to say, "Thank you." Often there is a wave and smile, as well. And if three or four cars use the opening you've provided, the last one in the line will also flash headlights in thanks. If you're the one who's been waiting, and another car approaches from the other end, she'll realize that you've already waited and will flash her headlights to let you go through first. So, as you pass by, you flash your headlights to say thanks ... if you can find the darned headlight flashing control on the car while you're concentrating on not taking the side mirror off one of the parked cars. More often than not, I wave and smile my thanks.

And you would think that driving in Toronto, that city of aggressive, hurried, harried drivers, would prepare me. In many ways, it has. I gulp down any fear and push through, trusting in my skills and staying watchful. But as angry and aggressive as Toronto drivers can be, they have nothing on the English driver when riled. As polite as they are about communication with other drivers, they are also some of the most unforgiving, impatient drivers if you don`t know where you`re going or show any hesitation. And don`t get me started on busy parking lots!!!

 "Puss-tat, puss-tat, where you been?

'I been Lunnin, to saw a Tween.'" 

- Louisa May Alcott, Eight Cousins

Light traffic on the A205, London

So, yesterday, it being Sunday and all, we thought we`d put Aleksandra in the back of the car and drive down to London. Everybody told us we were nuts, but we figured that since we weren`t going into Central London, but to Richmond in the southwest, it wouldn`t be that bad. Some things, you just have to learn by experience. We were fully prepared to happily pay the congestion toll, as we are both in favour of them for large cities, but apparently, the toll is only in place Monday to Friday. It took an hour or so to drive down the M1 (really, two hours, since we stopped twice). It took almost two hours to drive from the M1, along the A406 to the A205, through Richmond to our destination. Bumper to bumper, endless lines of cars took us past Kew Gardens and over the Thames, past really interesting looking shops, cyclists (all of whom were wearing reflective clothing and helmets, and all of whom knew their signals and didn`t weave in and out of traffic), restaurants, pubs, churches.

Magnolias in London

We`d driven into London to pick up a CD player that my sweetie bought for £10. The woman was unwilling to ship it and we`re relatively certain he got it so cheaply because nobody but us would be willing to drive into London to get it! Our stop took all of ten minutes and then back into the nerve fraying traffic. It took half the time to get back along the A205, to the A406 and then to the A40. My sweetie kept encouraging me to get him to stop if I saw something interesting, but here`s the thing. I don`t do well in crowds, especially if I can`t see a way out of them. It`s a type of claustrophobia, I`m pretty sure. I panic. My heartrate goes up, my vision becomes staring and glassy, and all I want is a way out - a desire that grows stronger with every moment that I cannot move. Yesterday, for the first time, it hit me while I was in a car. There was no way out. We didn`t know the side roads well enough to bush crash and had to stay in that never ending traffic to get out. All I wanted was to get the hell out of there.

My sweetie wanted to get out of the car to dip his toe in the Thames, so to speak. It was frustrating to drive over the bridge not just once, but twice, and not be able to stop. There was nowhere to stop!!

The next time we go anywhere near London, we`re taking the train so we can see 'a Tween'.

Chalfont St. Peter Parish Church

Knowing that Sat Nav Nelly would try to take us home via the M1 (I haven`t figured out how to programme her yet), I`d printed off directions that would bring us on a rambling route along `A` roads. We`d just got to the A40 toward Oxford and were about to make our next turn onto the A413 to Aylesbury, when I realized I was missing an entire page of directions. I could get us out of London and into Ratby, but nowhere in between!! So, I turned on the mapping function on my sweetie`s phone and kept my phone ready to activate Nel. We stopped in a really pretty town in Buckinghamshire called Chalfont St. Peter, which was around in 1086 (yup, a Domesday Book town) to get our bearings. I managed to recreate the route I`d originally plotted and we headed toward Aylesbury, then Milton Keynes. From there, we took the A5 up to Hinkley (in our home borough). Sat Nav Nel kept trying to take us back to one of the motorways when I turned her on, and here was no different. Although the A47 would take us into the village next to ours, Nel kept trying to take us to the M69 and back onto the M1, where she undoubtedly would have taken us onto the A47! I turned Nel off and we  bush crashed.

First English Rainbow!

It was a lovely drive up the A5, that took us through Towcester. You want to talk history, Towcester has been around since the Stone Age, was a major Roman town and quite central to coaching in the 18th and 19th centuries! Now, the A5 is interesting, and I was floored to realize how long it actually is. On Saturday, we drove out to the air museum at Cosford Air Base near Wolverhampton. That`s most of the way to Wales from here (about an hour and a half). On the way home, just north of Birmingham, we turned off the M6, onto the M42 and about five minutes later, picked up the A5 to Hinkley. So, we`ve now driven the A5 into Hinkley from both directions.
 

Cosford Air Museum, by the way, was well worth the drive. Some of you might know that my sweetie was an Air Force Brat who grew up on air bases, both here and in Canada. So, this is a special interest of his. The planes from WWII (Japanese, German and English) were really something. Each plane has a plaque that talks about the history of the class of plane, but also about the history of the actual plane we were looking at. The stories of the English POWs were very moving, and one display took my sweetie right back to his aunts` house in Yorkshire, when he was about four years old. But it was the Cold War section that moved me the most. Of course, although Dad was in the Canadian army during WWII, and I grew up with his stories, the Cold War encapsulated my childhood and youth, so the images were much more immediate. My reaction to it quite took me by surprise.

My sweetie & the Spitfire

At the end of the day, no matter where we`ve been, we come home. We don`t know yet if our lease will be extended beyond the end of May. For some reason, we can`t get a straight answer on that question, so I`ve suspended all unpacking for the time being. We don`t want to leave our little house, but I`m perusing rental websites again, just to be on the safe side. It`s easier now that we know the area a little, that`s for sure!! Still, this is home. My sweetie, my puppy and I are together. That`s what matters.