Wrotham

We decided to drive down to Kent to start phase 2 of the trip, “THE SOUTH”.

Only 130 miles, lots of M road (freeways with roundabouts the size of Earlwood), cross the Thames to the east of London, should take 2 and a bit hours.

Plenty of time to see a manor house in the afternoon.

Well that was an idea.

A 3 hour white knuckle drive in torrential rain, no visability except when the trucks overtook and wiped the road of water, queues, delays and many White Vans.

If you have never been to the UK you need to understand that thousands of White Vans traverse the country on all manner of roads.

They unfailing drive to fast, pass on blind corners and are driven by excitable P platers.

Then there was the “if we dont stop to go to the toilet I’m going to explode” incident. This required coming of the M, negotiating a 6 exit roundabout and finding a Services Area as big as Roselands.
With an unfailing sense of direction Mark ended up in the truck parking area, then the coach parking area, then just any area.

It would not be accurate to saty that no “words” were exchanged during and after all these travails.
There was a full debriefing of fails, missed turns, alternative choices and “how could you miss that”.

Kidney failure was avoided, caffeine levels were restored, the downpour continued and eventually all thought of seeing anything in the rain was abandoned. Luckily the veryy nicepeople at The Bull at Wrotham were able to let the room early.

The Bull has no straight walls, the doors don’t fit and its been a pub for 600 years. There have been a couple of renovations during that period.

It’s got a Michelin Rosette for its pub food and as soon as we find out what that means you’ll know as well.

But it’s dry in side and it’s not moving.

Mark has refused to drive 4mins for coffee and had opted for beer instead.Read more