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:: Tuesday 23 August 2005 ::

WOG MOG LE JOG - DAY 11 YORK TO RUTLAND

In which I encounter shock, rudeness and terror.

It was on the cruise outta York and down to Rutland that I got something of a shock.

It is not often one encounters any
of these

much less many many of them

and certainly not being sold, with pride even, as if they are actually a real car deserving of roadworthy certificates.

I was frankly appalled.

But my sprits were lifted by what I think was a
nucular power factory
spotted orf in the distance.

Then they were deflated again by being repeatedly given the finger by
these three English schoolboy louts in the back of this bus.

They seemed to be delighted by the Morgan before their disgusting class envy kicked in and the meanness started.

They all ducked from view as I decided to catch 'em on digimotorpicfilm, the little swine, but a couple were just a little too slow.

Ha ha. Who's giving the finger now, eh lads?

Anyhoo, orf to Rutland, to the village of hambleton, atchally, which is on the peninsular that juts out into Rutland water, a dirty big lake type arrangement. I got in to the village late afternoon, beautiful crisp and sunny weather enjoyed all day, bt imbetween listening to the iPOD - a Creedence day I think - I mighta heard something about weather turning a bit nasty overnight.

Hmmmm. Moggy roof is not entirely waterproof, what with its holes, and the fact it is made of leather and will get water logged and drippy pretty fast.

The hotel assured me I'd be fine under beautiful big trees.

Yeah?

It was three when I was woken by a humongously loud clap of thunder, and realised it was not just raining, but was teeming down so hard it hurt when I put my hand outta da window.

O. Mo. Go.

Total panic. Run to book about hotel.

ARGH! Notice at bottom on first page says the hotel does NOT operate a 24 hour reception? What the...? How am I s'posed to...? What am I going to do?

Considering taking the whole doona cover down to the car and laying it over the top hoping that will somehow be more waterproof than the care, and will prevent soakage.

Madness.

Contemplate laying my raincoat over the rood, but realise it is only a jacket, so hardly a solution. Kick self for failing to buy DrizaBone trip.

Commence dressing in complete panic. Tears forming in eyes. Heartrate stratospheric.

Deep breaths.

Resume reading hotel book for something, anything, to do with getting help or finding cover.

See note about sole lonely on-site staffer in one special room available only for emergencies.

O ya, I think this qualifies.

Phone him - it was a him, a Swiss guy I think called, I kid you not, Tony - and he wakes up as he speaks to me, saying a lot of "hmmmm" and "is it realy not waterproof?".

After not too many seconds - although it feels like minutes cos of the teeming rain and my imagination filling up the interior of the Mog and soaking its little wooden frame to pieces til it is all bendy and splooshy and...undriveable....then

Tony says, "Is it small?"

And I say "Yiss, yiss it is,"

And he says "I think we can fit it next to the stables."

And I say "I'll see you downstairs in two shakes."

So Tony takes me out to the car in the pouring rain with one of them jumbo hotel umbrellas that good hotels always seem to have, and we get to the car and I jump in and it is so cold, and there is definitely drippage coming through the roof.

Orf I drive, slowly in the rain with Sleepy Swiss Tony leading the way and we get to the stables, and he tells me to do a complex three point reverse kinda of turn to get under the archway entrance to the stables, under cover on top and in front but not if the rain decides to come teeming in on a windy angle.

I do it, and the Mog is a noisy little motor, all roary fun, you know? And with that I got to get some peaceful sleep knowing my little car was okeedoke.

Lucky, lucky me, eh?

Well yeah.

Not so lucky for the staff of the hotel, but. Not only did I ruin Tony's night, but all the other staff stay at the refurbed stables, so I woke up every one of them too, with my motory noisiness.

I am not sure if the wave they gave me when I checked out in the a.m was a "come on back" or a "come on back when you get yourself a waterproof car" or a "stay the hell away ya rowdy troublemaker" kinda wave.

Whatever.

I can vouch for the folks at Hambleton - they are sensational.
:: WB 4:33 am [link+] ::

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