25 May 2014 Languishing in Hove

When I am in the UK I get confused about what day to put on the post. You see 25th May is mum's birthday (she turned 91 this year), but I called her the night before, being the next day in New Zealand. So when I do a post for 25th May, I suppose it has to be for where I am, which is here, but it is a bit difficult trying to sort it all out. So on the NZ 25th, being the Hove 24th, I called mum and we sang her happy birthday, Sally and Jacques and me. She loved it. The good thing about my mother is she always loves everything so it is a pleasure to do anything for her.

The day after mum's birthday it was still the 25th over here. Weird. I once thought you could travel in time by whizzing around the world eastwards, but now I know that wouldn't work, because I just tried it, and here I am the day after. Travel can be so illuminating.

We had a splendid breakfast with lots of coffee and nuts and healthy things, then randomly selected seven sisters to visit because they were close and looked interesting. We took a lot of photos and left only footprints, though I did steal a couple of stones (I always do) which I think the beach could spare. We walked along the top of the falaises and lay on the grass and watched the clouds and remembered our youth. The wonderful thing about the British is that they let you walk everywhere, and put signs around so you know where you can go. There were people walking all over the place with packs on their backs and emergency rations hanging off them. They are very intrepid over here.

Now I have to report how Jacques saved my life. 

 He noticed that the left rear tyre was a bit down (not depressed in an emotional sense, but down none-the-less) so on the way home we stopped to get it pumped up, and the fellow who did it said it wasn't safe, and I should get it fixed. So my afternoon entertainment included trying to get my telephone to work so I could have conversations with Mr Budget about the car. I won't drag you through the details, but it seems Mr Vodafone won't let me buy a bundle of data over here, but I can still send and receive communications with the outside world at an inflated cost when I can't find a wifi connection. Back to Mr Budget. He put me on to Mr AA, who put me on to Mr Express Tyres, who asked questions about the car and tyre, such as did I have a spare (no) and was there a tool kit in the boot (yes) and what numbers were written on the side of the tyre (DOT 7GUC P57) and then what other numbers were on the side of the tyre (215/40R17 87W). Then he came and changed it for a nice new one, and showed me where the old one had melted on the inside, and confirmed it was not safe and could have blown out any time.

Let me tell you about the motorways over here. They are four lanes wide and you can't just sit in lane, because cars feed in from the left side all the time, so you have to move to make room for them and then you get squeezed in between huge artic trucks and it's very scary! So to have a blow out when stuck between big trucks would not be nice. So thank you Jacques. Not only that, Sally and Jacques put red flowers in my room! They are always very good to me.  I attach a photo of the flowers and the view from my window at their house.

PS Many of the photos are by Jacques, but not the one of him.

Tomorrow's post will explain driving under the Thames, finding Ilkley, and seeing Deb. I am only a day or so behind, but it may seem longer if you are in NZ, but it's not real, it's a function of the time thing.

24 May 2014: Hovering in Hove

You will be pleased to learn I got on the plane okay. It's now the gorgeous next day and I am watching the sea from Sally and Jacques' place at Hove, having survived the haul over here. We flew over South West Canada (sort of Toronoto, Montreal then Hudson Bay areas) and I tried to give the pilot a note to drop out the window for Rosie, but he said it was too cold to open the window. Then we went over the southern tip of Greenland, which was just amazing - huge ice floes, and lots of mountains and glaciers and snow, but no sign of habitation - probably a tad cold for farming and fishing so until someone finds oil or gold there it will hopefully be left alone. I am not so worried about global warming now, as we can all move to Greenland and live there - there's heaps of space. I will speak with my people about buying some land there.

I didn't get an upgrade on this leg but slept quite well. Watched the Railway Man and more of Sherlock and entirely forgot to update my presentation for the conference, so I had to do this really this morning as it was due today. Phew.

It was a bit nasty driving down here. It took an hour to collect the car, and Mr Budget felt so bad about the queues and delays he upgraded my booked tiny little car for 100 GBP for the entire week, to a nice Audi with bells and whistles. Once I figured out how to turn off the bells and whistles (the noise was irritating) I headed for Hove, accompanied by my good friend Francoise the GPS.  Unfortunately I had forgotten to see how the demister etc works, so once on the M25, which was very busy, when it started raining, the car fogged up inside and I couldn't see anything. I slowed down, which provoked lots of flashing lights from those behind, so I wended my way to to the slow lane and started playing with the knobs and buttons. The radio worked well. Eventually the road both in front and behind became apparent again, but it was a bit unpleasant in the meantime. When I arrived at Hove I was jubilant - the sea appeared at the end of the road and I started singing joyfully about how clever I was, turned left, then left again (I knew where the place was), and eventually found a park and arrived at what looked like their door. As I wasn't sure which button to press, I pressed all four, and held them down while I said 'hello Sally, it's me, I am here.' A man who was not Sally came to the door and said Sally did not live there. I asked if he had seen a Frenchman around (Jacques) and he looked puzzled and said no. I didn't believe him, but he asked me to show him the address I was looking for, which I did, on my trusty red device. By the way, my device is still not communicating with the outside world, as I haven't worked out how to buy a data bundle. The nice man pointed out that all the doors in Hove look the same, and I was in the quite the wrong street and at quite the wrong door. Sniff.  He was right, I was wrong, not surprisingly.

Several streets later I found another very similar looking door (he was right, they are all the same) with many more buttons, but this one had a 10 on it, so I pressed that and found Sally!  She answers to ten. I attach

evidence of our next few hours.

23 May 2014: Auckland to Buxton sans hat

Oh dear. A blank bloggy page. Such a long time since I did this but tis important to keep the waiting world appraised of my travels. Or maybe apprised. I never know which. One seems something like a word that a real estate agent would use (as opposed to the artificial estate agents, but I digress already), and the other like something jammed in a door. I will go with the agency one.

I climbed aboard the silver bird on high last night in Auckland and oh joy was upgraded to premium economy, which mean I could stretch my not very long legs right to the back of the seat in front. I did not sit next to a large person, nor a smelly one, and watched The Book Thief (cried only twice) and a Sherlock episode.  I can't believe someone will want to know this, but apparently the world is so large that somewhere in the world someone will, so I am telling you now. Is it you?

I attach a photo of my adventure. Unfortunately I forgot to take a photo of my seat, so here is one of a forest at Raglan instead, just next to Mr and Mrs Blue's house, aka Lynne and Mike. Mike can play the guitar. He is very famous in Raglan, and Lynne can sing and play the flute. She is also famous. If you know them say hello from me.  Oh - that was exciting - I just got the photo to move to the left of the page, but every time I write something it slips down a little. Bother.

Oh - just worked out how to write below a line. You have to put the line in first.

I am in the Koru lounge at LAX, which is travel-speak for The American airport on the west coast of the US of A that everyone has to go through to get anywhere useful.  Life aboard the plane was pleasant enough, but on arrival at the US of A we were greeted by A Cathay Pacific girl wearing an Air NZ uniform, which was very confusing. I asked her what to do next, as usually we are just told what to do in the US of A, but this time we were all left to our own devices (all puns intended). It was frightening. There were two queues everywhere I looked, and lots of fierce looking people of all weird shapes and sizes. I joined one queue, then another, the changed my mind, and eventually found myself getting my pisspot stamped and welcomed to the US of A. Too late I thought, but pressed on to have my laptop and shoes inspected, my body photographed (they were not satisfied with my finger and thumb prints, and eye photos), and then my money pouch inspected. I admit, I do look a little like a spy/national threat/sweet little old lady.  A nice couple of Maori girls led the way. They were easy to follow as there are not a lot of Maoris here, and they had ample bottoms, but not unattractively so.

It is raining in London apparently. This is not good news, and I have to collect a very small car (providing I can provide all the right paperwork, which is always a worry), plug in Francoise my French GPS, and navigate to Sally and Jacques Hilton at Hove. Wish me luck. More later.

There aren't many people here - I had better go. Something is not right I fear.....