Terror on the country lanes

Well, it turns out the most terrifying aspect of driving in Warwick is not remembering to stick to the left hand side, it is trying not to freak out that there IS no left hand side! These country roads are skinnier than *insert overly skinny person's name here* and a volvo station wagon is like a bloated duck in comparison...

So, after much internet and phone wrangling, I finally purchased ridiculously expensive but fully comprehensive car insurance on "my" very own boat, the 1990 station wagon of my dreams. You can see her picture below. I think I'm going to call her Isabel.

How did I celebrate my new found freedom? By promptly getting myself lost in the outskirts of Warwick! I had a map, a thoroughly useless artefact because I couldn't find my starting point on the map before I left, and when I finally found it while simultaneously poring over the map and enjoying a full English breakfast at the pub I stopped at, I had no idea where the pub was... bah!

However, a lovely older gentleman whose postal route used to take him by my home village gave me directions and repeated them several times to help them stick in my slippery little head. Unfortunately, another older gentleman soon proceeded to give me new (and opposite) directions, which I tried my best to block out. Apparently, if you sit outside with a map at a pub, there's no shortage of helpful older gentlemen. The second gentleman wasn't actually helpful except that he kept telling me how stunning my dimples were, which is helpful to my self-esteem, if nothing else.

I wish there was a way to telepathically thank strangers who have been incredibly helpful. Those directions were spot-on, and I soon found myself steering Isabel slowly back up the drive. Success!