Imagine a world...where you drive a car on a road built for horse & buggy, when 23 miles can take an hour to drive (without bumper-to-bumper traffic), pudding comes in the color black and isn't pudding at all, a castle very well may be part of your back yard, and a middle school gymnasium isn't called a Church one day out every week. For those of you that can't imagine this, it's ok, you don't have to. It's called England, and you only need a passport and some money to see these things I speak of. The wife and I took a road trip this past weekend, and let me just say for starters, road-tripping here gives me the feeling I imagine time-travelers might have. It's as if portions of the UK simply were not told that time has moved on and they can stop living like it's the 1800's. Oddly though, while many of their short-comings in the current future were mine and Robyn's foundation to numerous jokes, there was admittedly something nice about their archaic take on life.
Lesson One: "Do you have a booking?"
