Mother England

December 14, 2019

Mother England

Before we turn the page on this Grand European Adventure, we must pay full tribute to our multiple visits through England. The itinerary went like this;
- EARLY SEPT: haul our arses out of the Yukon and arrive in England feeling shellshocked, jet lagged and scattered. We'd no real plan and spent the first couple of days with my mate Fo sleeping the day away and trying to emotionally recover from the shit show that was our departure from Canada. Buy ticket to Norway. Dump massive bike box in Fo's tiny living room. Fly to Norway.
- LATE SEPT: Leave Norway with rental car company complaining of a new dent that we swear we did not do and fear that I'd left my journal (you know the one where you write down the password to absolutely everything in your life) in some random stop along the way. Arrive back to Fo's house, fighting with each other about panniers, long johns and smarting from rental car and journal hangover. Unpack and repack bike touring gear.
- EARLY OCT: Leave Fo's for bike tour of Europe. Drag bike box out of Fo's tiny living room. Only learn on attempting to board ferry that we could not carry on knives. Not even in the massive bike box which would be staying below deck for the entirety of the journey. Not even when campervan after campervan was driving onboard without being searched or having to cough up their camping knives. Surrendered one knife and left the other at ferry terminal office, after being scolded because "it's illegal to carry a knife in Britain." Made Fo use an hour of her precious child-free Sunday to drive and collect it for me.
- MID NOV: Back to Fo's and away with her and sweet Rosie for a weekend getaway. Getaway was delayed by a day as we'd missed the Barcelona plane. And we didn't have any spare clothes. Or a toothbrush. Grouchy as we had to figure out where to send clothes. Rental car company overcharged us as we hadn't made our pick-up time (because we'd missed the plane). Still trying to negotiate reimbursement.
- MID-LATE NOV: Back to London from Guernsey. Mountain Dad dryly notes that this is our fourth time through London airports. FOURTH! Was this really the most efficient way to travel he mused? Another rental car collected to take us to visit another old mate from Guernsey days, Angie. Who lives in a flat in a huge old mansion in the countryside. On the edge of the wee town of Newnham. Mountain Dad talked to all the shopkeepers and even phoned a local historian to ascertain if his Newnham could hail from this Newnham. Alas, it was not. Though that didn't stop us taking thousands of photo's of the word Newnham that appeared all over the village.
- LATE NOV: Home to Fo's house once more. To repack one final time before a sad farewell.
Though the England trips were numerous, it never felt like enough time to do all I'd wanted to do. Immerse myself in cups of tea and chats with all those who have been part of my English life before.

Though England was just as I remembered it, drizzly and cold with that dampness that sneaks right down your neck and up your sleeves, with wet drab leaves mulching the ground, with cars bumper to bumper no matter the size of the road or the time of the day, with food priced so high we staggered at the bill, though it was all as I recalled and all left Mountain Dad bamboozled, it was a lovely home base for us. Where they speak the same language as us. Where we are loved and embraced and hosted by so many old friends.

Little Laide and her little Lady Charlsea. Didn’t come biking with us, but was a welcome reunion back in England.

A spot of uno by the fire on a drizzly Autumn afternoon. Just back from Sunday lunch at the village pub. Our weekend getaway with Fo to an old English farmhouse in the country.

Angie’s manor house. Her flat is the top middle three windows (I think).

Flying a helicopter simulator

Old Great Aussie Bushcamp love soart friends

The weekend getaway thatched roof farmhouse

Camping out on the floor of Rosie’s room. Fo dragged Rosie’s crib from the room and into her own, while we spread out our mattresses and sleeping bags. Six people can live in a two bedroom flat!