We’re Baaaack! And Adrianne and I made it back just in time, each beating a case of the flu by about 24 hours.

OK, here is my quickie “organize to go home” travel checklist:

* Wring out all wet clothing prior to packing, wettest on top for benefit of security screeners – X

* Thoroughly scratch all body parts prior to boarding the 9 hr. Delta “straight jacket” flight home – X

* Pack all 18 umbrellas for homeward journey – X

* Place 3 down comforters on bed in preparation for bout with flu – X

* Turn off hot water till after flu, since no showers will be required (environmentally sound) – X

* Drink 14 cups of coffee prior to drive home from Atlanta (there is a cost to cheap air fares) – X

* Buy 3 extra bags for all freebie brochures, spent ticket stubs, and flyers – X

* Ear plugs and bibs for defense against the two-dozen or so screaming meamies near us – X

* Wear steel toed shoes (to whack the guy in front as he tries to load his stuff under my seat) – X

* Remind Marcia that the £ is equal to about $1.60 and not 25 cents at Gatwick shops – X

Actually, we all had a great time. On the travel scene we got through security at all airports. Only the ladies got a second glance, something about “underwires”. Day one we were riding the London Tube as if we were born-n-bred cockneys. We drove the length and breadth of merry old England and a bunch of Scotland in our little Peugot 320. I have to say that in the car we were all on the edge of our seats. Marcia and Adrianne because I was driving, through the heart of London, on the left, steering from the right, and shifting with my left. I was on the edge of my seat for a totally different reason. First off, 3 Pastoors in a Peugot paints a lot of that picture, but I also had to fence off those 18 umbrellas I mentioned in my check list. 18 umbrellas you say? Remember, this is Britain with torrential weather, naturally there is the “sports” umbrella – much like our golf version, the heavy weather model, one for light mist, this can also be used for tropical sun, a very heavy weather unit (sorta like the old two handed broadsword), and then the going-out-for-the-evening model. Get the drift?

New years eve we roamed Piccadilly Circus with about 500,000 of our newfound best friends. All drinking many a pint of very dark stout, tooting horns, blowing whistles, and performing native dances. Bobbies stood around feeling sorry since they could not join and drink any stout. A couple of times these same, very placid, Bobbies had to let off a bit-o-steam and we saw them perform a swan dive on some ill behaved bloke. We only saw them perform this in groups of 5, in unison no less. After hearing Big Ben we practiced a similar diving maneuver and dove down the tube (remember we’re experts now) and made for our temporary home in Earls Court. A glass of wine and Happy New Year!

(Saturday, the rest of the story).

Cheers,

Dirk