Saturday, March 16, 2013

Bucket on my head

Everywhere I have been on this trip, people have been remarkably blessed. Not by my prescence  (though it would nice to think I had that effect!), but by the good weather I brought. Yes, there were some cold and windy days, but they were dry - until yesterday!

Yesterday (Saturday 15th of March), I spent the morning packing, catching up on these blog postings and being (as the soothe-sayer admonished) 'aware of the Ides'. I cursed that I forgotten to get a pie on the previous day! [A joke most likely lost on the British, because in their way of recording dates, it was 14.3, not 3.14;  just not good at all for the Geometry-Joke, is it?]

About 1 pm, I said 'farewell' to Rowen and North Wales (beautiful scenery and walks - thoroughly enjoyed it) and headed to England. Allan was going to a 'dragonfly convention' in Berkshire and I was headed to my brother's house in nearby Guildford, so we rode together. The trip took a little more than 5 hours (less than half of it on divided highway - all at 55-60 mph) in his 4-year old, 1.6 litre Skoda. He said it maintained a fuel consumption of 60 mpg!  I find that to be remarkably efficient. Adjusting for fuel-type (it is diesel-powered) and converting to US gallon from Imperial gallon, that still equates to approximately 40-45 mpg (US). What gasoline-powered car in the US gets that mileage?

The journey took us alternatively through sunshine and drizzle - never heavy rain - and was unremarkable in terms of events. We passed through Llangollen (JFGI all about 'International Eisteddfodau' now) and on into England. It was raining a little heavier when I said goodbye to Allan at  Wokingham train station. [If you are reading this, Allan, thanks for a great time; hope all works out well; maybe we can do that Bucket-Trip to Ireland later this year].  An hour later, I was downing a  much welcomed can of Carlsberg in my brother's family room.

This morning, I awoke to the sound of a steadily falling rain. I quickly closed the bathroom window as soon as the wind tried to force its coldess upon me and threatened to 'shiver-me-timbers'. This day was going to be very dreary - unless Wales could beat England later; and do it with at least a 7-point margin. If they do that, I'll take my hat (er, uh . . .  bucket) off to them and say 'Da iawn'!

To be continued . . .      

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