Quiet... I don't want to wake Denise. She must be really tired because she doesn't usually sleep on airplanes. Her eyes are closed; I think she's taking a nap! I guess it's a good thing she pulled the baby computer out of her carry-on bag so I can do a little bit of writing.
We flitted across Ireland before heading over the Atlantic Ocean, and the pilot told us at the beginning of the flight that we would be flying over Boston on our way in to Newark. It's really a shame there isn't some kind of parachute service so that we could get off at home instead of flying over it and then flying back. You're absolutely right; while I would love to jump out of the plane, I don't think Denise would step out into the cold air to fall a bit before the parachute caught her.
It was a good week away, too short, but good. It was an exploration of a beautiful place, a place I suspect we'll be returning to some day. Where? Both England and the Lake District. There's lots of good walking there, walking for Denise and bouncing for me. And oh! there are so many dogs that do those long hikes with their owners. The people think they are taking the dogs along, but I think it must be the dogs who are in charge, don't you?
--- Rover
Rover's right; I'm sure we will be back again. There are other places that I'd like to see in England, but it wouldn't take much for me to go back to the Lake District again for more wandering.
The very narrow roads with steep grades don't appeal to my cycling sense so a return to the Lake District will probably be on foot (yes, with the assistance of a car!). I'm not very good at steep ups & downs, and regular grade signs in the 13 to 17% range kept popping up on those one-lane roads. There were some that were much steeper too. I saw some signs indicated grades above 20%. Yikes! I wouldn't like to drive those in a car, let alone on a bike. I really have a lot of respect for the cyclists I saw climbing those steep and narrow roads. Oh, and I strongly prefer roads with a little bit of a horizontal shoulder rather than vertical rock walls that lined the narrower bits of roadway.
I think I want to be Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz right now, clicking my heels together, chanting 'there's no place like home, there's no place like home' - and being transported there instantly instead of flying for 7 ½ hours from Manchester to New York, waiting, and boarding another flight to Boston. I still wish I could have pulled off a Manchester to Manchester flight! Oh it wouldn't have been much shorter, but hey - wouldn't you like to check in for a flight in one city and tell the airline's agent that you are going to the same named city?
