We’ve arrived! In England, that is. (Perhaps you were thinking I meant we’d arrived socially. I did not. In fact, it did not occur to me to even care about arriving socially until just a minute ago, when I realized we probably never will arrive socially. What does it mean, anyway, to arrive socially? But I digress.)

We have arrived at Eynsham Hall, in Oxfordshire, where it is chilly and raining and very green.  Eynsham Hall is the Jasper Park Lodge of Oxfordshire. For those of you unfamiliar with the JPL, it is, as befits its locale in the heart of the Canadian Rockies and its function as a resort hotel, a giant rustic lodge surrounded by smaller, plainer outbuildings. As befits its locale, Eynsham Hall is a grand old British manor house (think Downton Abbey) surrounded by smaller, plainer outbuildings.

Our rooms are in one of the smaller, plainer outbuildlings, which is fine with me because apparently the Wifi is better here. We have a suite. It is the smallest suite I have ever stayed in, so small that we can’t get our bedroom door all the way open because the bed takes up too much space (and it’s a double bed, not king-sized) (if we were in the manor house, I bet it’d be king-size). However, we we have two full bathrooms and two TVs (the better for watching the Olympics). On the downside, we have only one remote control. On the upside, there are Walkers biscuits on the tea tray. I love England.

Why are we not outside exploring, you may wonder? Because really, it is not safe to drive around on less than five hours sleep, which is what we’re all operating on, having just arrived here in not-so-sunny England earlier today. It took us a little more than an hour to drive from Heathrow to Oxfordshire. I’m surprised we made it without crashing the car. Half the time when I went to shift gears in our Ford Kuga (which I could have sworn the Hertz guy said was a Cougar), I reached for the door handle instead. And once when a car went zooming past me on the right, I almost screamed, “That car is being driven by a ghost!”  because no one was in the driver’s seat. Because, of course, I was looking at the passenger’s seat.

According to Dave, the reason the Brits drive on the wrong (right?) side of the road has to do with jousting. When I am more awake, that may make more sense to me. Possibly when Dave is more awake, he will realize he didn’t mean to talk about jousting at all.

Okay, I will go explore my surroundings on foot now. I may wind up sleepwalking.

Stay tuned.

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One Response

  1. Wow Debby! I love reading about your adventures. You are such a great writer, it feels like I am in England with you enjoying all the amazing sights & sounds! Have a great holiday & hope to connect with you soon when you return! Hugs & cheers!!

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