We eventually arrived in Portsmouth, engaged the GPS and set off for Hastings....and the promptly ignored the GPS as it wanted us to go west towards Plymouth!!
As we headed east we very quickly realised that the weather forecasts we'd been reading all week might not be as far off the mark as we expected and so we were pushing on through a winter wonderland to visit the McInnes
But as we pushed on our determination was meet with an equal determination on the part of the weather combined with lack of determination in the part of the local gritter driver who presumably lived along the A22 towards Eastbourn because that was as far as the road clearing seemed to extend and we were left to soldier on by ourselves.
So it was that an hour later and three complete road slides, one roundabout dodgems and a hill that nearly beat us that we finally made into the lovely Edwardian Hastings and Chez McInnes (more commonly known as the crumbling mansion) where we were greated with a warm welcome, beer, bangers and mash, far too good a whisky and a comfortable bed for the night (thanks fellas)....there might have also have been lots of rubbished talked as well, but it too late and boozey to recall.
Next morning we were up for a hearty breakfast (including home made choc spread on saucages) and then off up to West Hill with the sledge and snowboards!! Could life get any better for a couple from Dubai who hadn't seen real snow in years.
And sillyness aside I was reminded of why the UK does have some great sides. Where else could we build a snow ramp and we, as well as a load of other complete strangers, get together to watch Mr J and Mr McI as well as a loonstic sledger attempt to jump far enough to seriously injury themselves followed by a mad kid with a dangersous combination of summersault skills and no sense on self preservation. It was loads of fun and killed an entire afternoon. [Action shots will follow tomorrow once editted]
A few hours later we retired to a local cafe for food and hot chocolate....all except Mr J who had his food so cruelly stollen by the co-pilot.
Sadly our time in Hastings came To an end way too soon and we had to be on our way to Worcestershire. Thanks to the McInns for their hospitality, Mr J and Eva for the company and their combined kids for their patience being photographed constantly. And no thanks at all to Mr Gritter Driver who still didn't seem to know of the existance of ANY of the roads in to Hadtings....is this really what I don't pay takes for!!
There are some days that make Britain seem great!
*Editors note - I think you might be exagurating a little there don't you? No!! It was bloody near capsizing
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1 comment:
Don't you wish you had the EffJay with its Mississippi Queen-esque paddle-wheel STT tyres?
Your love affair would have lasted right up to the point when you had to gas her up at a cost of £85. And then to do so again less than 300 miles further down the road. And then again, 300 miles later...
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