British Motorways and a Trip to Kenilworth complete with Road Rage.

Time to pack our bags, load the car and head south to Kenilworth. Not much news today except our white knuckle 150 mile drive from the Lake District to Warwickshire. The motorway resembled I-95 but with trucks from all over Europe. Driving on the left has been mastered but it still feels very unnatural to pass vehicles on the left at 80 mph. English drivers have no patience for us Americans who slow down to carefully read the multiple signs. We have had many horns leaned on and angry faces as they pull around and pass us. This happens even in the tourist areas. Shame on them. Signage in England is terrible. You will see a sign that says Kennelworth 30 miles and never see it again. Your exit turnoff might say something totally different by naming a local village at the exit. Thank goodness we have a GPS to get us around or we would be still sitting in the rental car Village at the airport in Manchester. Whew.

On our drive today we stopped off at the site of the Battle of Bosworth, where Richard the III met his demise. We all know Richard from the recent parking lot find of his remaiins and his reburial in Leicester Cathedral.

The Battle of Bosworth was the last significant battle of the War of the Roses, the civil war between the Houses of Lancaster and York that raged across England in the later half of the 15th Century. Fought on August 22, 1485, the battle was won by the Lancastrians. Their leader Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, by his victory became the first English monarch of the Tudor dynasty and gave us all those lovely homes with exterior beams and leaded glass windows. His opponent Richard III, the last king of the house of York was killed in the battle. Historians consider Bosworth field the end of the Plantagenet dynasty, making it a defining point in English history. 

After our four hour drive which included the 5PM Rush hour around Coventry we made it to our new home base for the next two nights in Kenilworth. We've rented a delightful little townhouse on a quite street in Kenilworth. Parking is an issue as I had to park two blocks away. English villages were made for horses and walking - not automobiles. Parking is a problem everywhere and the local towns charge for parking at every spot. Space is at an absolute premium and the residents have discovered many ingenious places to park. Fortunately I learned how to drive in New York City so I am a pretty competent parallel parker. 

I sit tonight writing on my laptop in the walled outdoor garden of this little townhouse. I am enjoying my nightly ale from the Durham Brewery, a gift from cousin Christine. Tonights flavor "Bede's Chalice". That of course is the venerable Bede from Durham and chronicler of early English history. We stood at his grave at the Cathedral last year on our trip. I remember him as one of the questions on the SAT's  - 51 years ago.

Tonights bird of the day is a Great tit. The bird song in the morning here is wonderful . I think its the addition of Blackbirds to the chorus. Blackbirds, which are numerous , are like our Mocking birds we have at home. They sing and sing away mimicking all the other birds calls; Wonderful while you're having your morning tea. 

I will pick up my blog in two days when we get to Wales and get back to taking pictures. Family obligations you know. Tomorrow we will be taking Peter and Auntie Audrey to lunch. Nite, Nite.