By the time the boat, a wide beam, had been swung around to here at 8.00 Justin had AL at the services point.
The wide exam is off to Reading, which, I think is on the Thames. Last week the company which specialises in NB moves, lifted and trucked one to Scotland and moved across the channel are not uncommon.
By 9.00 we had said our goodbyes to Aqua Life, Justin and Lynden; Mike had kindly stuffed all our luggage into his car and had driven around to the Marina reception where we met him and unloaded and where we had arranged to be picked up by Enterprise Car Hire. After saying farewell to Mike and Tim we waited in the cold for Enterprise.
Other years, when we dealt with the Burton on Trent branch of Enterprise, pick up had been at a stated time, and they were always there on time, even a little early. This year, having to deal with the Pride Park, Derby branch they would only give a two hour window!
At 10.50 we rang the Pride Park branch to find out what was happening to be told that the driver had come, waited for 20 minutes at reception and when we didn't turn up had left, and was on his way back to Pride Park and wasn't coming back. I pointed out that we had been at reception since 9.00 and that if the driver had indeed been there we would have seen him and he couldn't have failed to see us and our luggage. Again the driver denied we had been there and I said we had been there since 9.00 am, had plenty of witnesses to prove it and we were f........ Freezing and would someone please come and get us, where upon I,was told that he wouldnt deal with people who swore and was hung up upon.
While I was momentarily left speechless L. said quietly 'you could have handled that a bit better'. Instead of sending me into an apoplectic orbit, his comment calmed me down and I handed the phone to him and said you deal with them.
To cut an already overlong story short Lawrence ended up ringing for a taxi which, I might add turned up at reception within 10mins and had no trouble locating us, and GBP 20 later we were at Pride Park, Derby. Whereupon our dealings with them sank even lower when they couldn't process our prepaid car hire and when eventually they had sorted it insist d on charging us a GBP 50 one way hire fee instead of the GBP 32 stated on our copy of the booking confirmation. Lawrence, who just wanted 'outta there' stomped on my foot as I was inhaling prior to entering the lists again, so with grinding teeth I paid up and we got out of there as fast as we could. From something the person who was showing Lawrence over our car said, L thinks the driver probably went to the wrong Marina.
So with bad tastes in our mouths, we left Derby behind us and we headed for Cambridge, via Leicestershire on deliberately chosen A and B roads. The soft, beguiling countryside and quaint and quirky villages had a soothing effect and we were soon cheerful once more.
Driving through the gently rolling and clearly prosperous farmland we reached the market town of Melton Mowwbray made famous to me at least, through the books of Georgette Heyer and for being the centre of the Quorn Hunt country. From there, and due to a small error on the part of the navigator we went east instead of south and as we were driving through another quaint little village we passed and attractive looking pub with a carpark (the carpark being the most important factor) into which L turned. providential, as the meal we had at the Berkley Arms was supberb and easily the best meal we've had in the UK (sorry Tim) and reasonably priced.
The accent of the two young women serving behind the bar was unlike anything we'd heard in the Midlands or Oop North and immediately let us know we were in 'county' country and a reading of the menu only confirmed this.
The contrast made us chuckle. The food really was delicious and we learnt upon leaving the pub is listed in the Michelin Guide and more importantly for the more ordinary among us, Alistair Sawdays Pubs And Inns.
It was while in the pub having lunch that the navigation hiccup was discovered. Lawrence asked how far we were from Cambridge, a bit of discussion among the locals followed and the general consensus seemed to be 2 to 2 1/2 hours. Strange we thought, we were only an hour and a bit away back at Melton Mowbray! Luckily L was so delighted with his luncheon experience, he, most unusually, dismissed my georgraphical whoops you as a mere bagatelle.
On our way again, this time heading in the right direction, we entered the County Of Rutland, the setting of some of Jilly Coopers, horsey, scandal ridden and funny novels. We soon left it again as it one of the smallest counties in England, being something like 18 miles long at the longest point and 14 miles wide and the widest point, but according to Jilly Cooper, full of prosperous people doing outrageous things with or to the neighbours, and the milkman.
By the time we got to the hotel in Cambridge we were both flagging and only had enough energy to take our shoes off Before flaking out on the bed. Woke up after 8.00, ordered a couple of sandwiches and we were back in bed by 10.00. So much for seeing the sights of Cambridge.
Ed Murrow was correct. Rhonda wins again!
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