It’s amazing to me just how fragile the human body really is.  All it takes to make a person feel on the verge of death is a couple rotten sleepless nights and a 5 hour time zone discrepancy.  Conversely, all it takes to completely restore a person is a nice meal or two and a couple good nights of sleep.

We started out on a definite high note.  We needed to take a taxi to the airport so our car wouldn’t sit in long-term parking for 5 weeks, and it turns out renting a limo is just about the same price.  The kids partied hard all the way to the airport.

Starting our voyage in high style. To the airport!

Josie really knows how to relax in style. She took to limo travel with remarkable ease.

Our flight from Atlanta to London went as perfectly as flights can possibly go, but it was an overnighter.  We left home at 8:30 p.m. and came into London at 10:30 a.m., feeling as though someone had coated us with a fine mist of grease and then blown a handful of sand in our faces.  We trudged through the airport like zombies and made our way to the shuttle bus that makes the 20 minute drive to the rental car station.

Our car, unfortunately, has the distinct-yet-faint aroma of puke inside. There is nary a stain to be found, but the smell gives us the heebie jeebies each time we open the door.  Under normal circumstances, we probably would have gone back inside and asked for a different car, but we were so tired (and facing another 2 hour drive to our hotel) that we decided to ignore it as best we could, knowing that we’d only have the car for 2 days.
We spent an uneventful night in a town called Doncaster, and all felt much better this morning.  We headed out early for Hartlepool to pick up our Land Rover.  This is a huge deal, more than a year in the making, and Adam has been anticipating it with the eagerness of a kid waiting for Christmas morning.

When we got to Colin’s garage, though, he greeted us with a big rueful smile and said apologetically, “I’m afraid we’ve run into a major problem.  You see, during the final testing yesterday morning the engine blew up.”  He lead us back to see the car, which had been stripped down to the frame — literally.  No body panels, no seats, no dash board, NOTHING.  Just a frame with a disassembled motor in the engine compartment.  Colin explained a whole bunch of stuff and I didn’t understand but a few key phrases here and there:  “oil everywhere” and “gasket” and “stripped it clean down to check the electrical system and so we wouldn’t scratch the new paint job.”  He ended his soliloquy with, “And so finally, last night, I just threw me ‘ands up in the air and says to me man, ‘I’m just going to go home and get drunk!’  But me spirits was so low I just fell asleep in me chair instead.”  His wife, who had been standing beside him the whole time gazing down at the broken engine, nodded her head sadly and said, “It’s true.  He didn’t even have it in ‘im to get drunk.”

The bottom line is that our car isn’t ready.  Colin is lending us a different Land Rover to use for our drive up to Scotland, but we have to wait until Monday when the insurance office opens to take possession of it.  He needs to change the policy to that of a rental vehicle so that we will be insured to drive it.  For Adam, this disappointment is like a kick to the emotional groin.  What it means to me and the kids is that we are stuck with the Puke Mobile until Monday afternoon.

Luckily, on the way to Hartlepool this morning we heard on the radio about the Bramham International Horse Trials.  The lady was talking about all the wonderful things they were going to be doing during this three-day horse competition, which includes a demonstration of English foxhounds doing their thing.  I said to Adam, “Oh, wouldn’t it be fun to see something like that!” and then we drove right by the road sign for Bramham.  Now that we have an extra day to kill in this area, we are going to be able to attend after all.  It will be the first fun thing we’ve been able to do since our arrival.  It looks as though Sunday is the best day to attend, too, since it’s the last.  They are doing their final competitions in all categories and having their award ceremonies.

A word about the weather:  it’s awful.  We’ve been to England now in April, December, and June, and experienced identical weather all three times.  It alternates between three states:  cold, rainy, and windy.  If you’re lucky, it’s just cold, or maybe cold and windy.  Rainy is no fun, and rainy with wind is the worst.  I guess this weather is atypical for summer, as all the locals are complaining about it.

The weather reports here are a bit on the weird side, too.  This morning a TV weather girl said, “Today we should see a bit of sun, if we’re lucky … but I should also mention there may be torrential rains, as well.”  Later, on the radio, a man was interviewing a woman in a caravan park (camp ground for motorhomes, we think) in an area of possible flooding and he asked her, “It’s raining hard, yes?”

“Oh yes,” said the lady, “It’s quite wet.”

Man:  “It’s coming down quite hard, then?”

Lady: “Quite hard, yes.  It’s quite wet.”

Man:  “Are you able to get out of your caravan?”

Lady: “Oh yes.  We can get out.”

Man: “That’s quite good then.  That you can get out.”

On another station, a reporter made the statement, “We were expecting some possible heavy rains last night, but luckily it never happened.  Everything is just fine this morning.”

The key difference, as far as I can tell, between American-style news reporting and English-style news reporting is that if nothing interesting is happening, Americans will make up a story and act as though they have shocking and urgent information to convey anyway.  It’s typical, on slow news days, to hear something like, “Can this common household object kill you?  The answer is YES! … stay tuned to find out what you need to know to keep your family safe!”  Then they will go on to point out something ridiculously obvious (after the commercial break, of course) like that printer toner can kill you if eaten in sufficient quantities.  In England they just go with the non-story.  “We thought it might rain.  It didn’t.”

We did end the day well, with a fantastic Indian meal in nearby Newcastle.  The kids were surprised to find that they actually like authentic Indian food … it’s just my Indian cuisine efforts they hate.

Fantastic Indian restaurant in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne.

Sunday, June 10

Yesterday we had our first day of play in the UK. We’re in Yorkshire, and given a pleasant Sunday afternoon, we decided to hit the Bramham Horse trials that were close by.
This is a 300+ horse dressage competition, our first ever. The kids have never had an opportunity to see so many horses, so close up, at full gallop. We thought of Heidi throughout the day, and wished that she were here to tell us what we should be paying attention to. This is an annual event hosted by some wealthy lord, and takes place on his estate of several tens of thousands of acres.

My oh my, was the tweed out in full force. It is both a horse competition and social event. There were a lot of folks out in the full “English countryside riding clothing” which looked pretty smart, overall. It’s a difficult look to pull off, however, away from the Field & Stream.

The first thing we noticed on our way in was the sheer number of dogs.  Everyone except us, it seemed, brought their dogs.  I’ve never seen so many dogs in one place.  The butt-sniffing going on had a frantic quality, as there were so many butts to sniff and each dog only possessed one nose.

One of the areas was set aside for the “Tailwaggers Club” where anyone who wanted could practice running their dog through a show obstacle course.

Tiny puppy getting his first taste of the obstacle course.

I loved this little dog. She wanted a tidbit so badly she was able to ignore all the dog action going on around her. That’s some focus!

By far the most exciting aspect was the jumping competitions for the horses.  They had two going: one was in an arena where the horses jump over railings in an obstacle course.

Arena jumping competition.

The other, and most exciting, was a speed jumping competition.  (These things all have official names, but I have no idea what they are.)  They had a course set out with ropes that was probably several miles long, in a big circle around the park grounds.  The logs and whatnot the horses were expected to jump were huge, and the horses were going top speed.  People were allowed to stand right next to the ropes.  You could feel the ground thundering underneath your feet as the horses raced by.  It was breathtaking.  I’ve never been that close to a horse running all-out and it’s an impressive thing.  Those animals have a tremendous amount of power.

Example of how close you can get to the running horses. We were standing right next to that white rope.

Adam and Josie walking back from the jumping trials.

They have over 150 vendor booths, selling mostly equestrian themed merchandise.  You can buy anything in the world for your horse or dog needs there, including “bespoke” saddles (custom made), £500 riding hats, and dog food scientifically designed to “reduce flatulent odors.”

I bought a painting at an artist’s booth.  I got to chatting with her husband while he wrapped the painting up for me.  He said they rely on the income they make from selling artwork at the trade shows, and this was the first trade show this year not cancelled due to bad weather.  He was worried about their financial prospects for the year if the weather didn’t get a lot better this summer.  The artist is Diane Hennchen.

And of course I had to buy a painting. First treasure of the trip!

Hot chocolate break.

Englishman, looking all Englishy

Man studying the score boards, doggie studying all the other dogs.