We had spent three lovely days in York, England. It's supposed to be one of the most haunted cities in the world. One night, because there was nothing else to do, we went on a ghost tour. Oh, but that's a story for another post. Right now I'm going to tell you about our trip to find our next bed and breakfast.
We were headed to the Lake District of England. It's pretty much due west from York, but since we had a limited visit to the UK, we decided to make a detour north and visit Scotland. It was snowing and cold. We left shortly after arriving.
The directions to the next B&B seemed pretty easy. We just needed to find the middle of town in Hale, England. At that point you turn left and follow the road up to the house. Perhaps if we went straight to Hale instead of the little jaunt to Scotland we would have arrived in the daylight. Again, my travels aren't about thinking that far forward. Which is odd since I'm an ISTJ. You'd think I'd demand more details. I think I enjoy traveling with E_FPs too much. They are quite the non-planners.
Well, Erica was driving, as she always does when we travel overseas. This is also perplexing since she utterly detests driving and finds the whole experience stressful. Add driving a manual on the opposite side of the road and you end up with several funny stories that you can laugh at later. Laughing at the moment would probably result in a punch on the arm. I've never tried this theory out, but the look on her face confirms my suspicions.
We followed the directions to the center of town. Only problem, the center of town resembled a scene from a scary murder movie. Were we in the right place? (A common phrase on my travels) We had crossed over a small one car bridge that end at a 't' in the road. At the other side was a small wooden sign that had Hale carved into it. Behind the sign was a tiny church and a graveyard. In the middle of the day I'm sure we would not have given it a second thought, but at night, we were a little worried. After pausing for a minute to review the directions, and contemplate our apparent ensuing death by a crazy undertaker, we turned left and continued down a small dirt road.
Ah, we finally made it to our B&B. It was winter, so we were the only tenants. Our host was very friendly. It would make a great escape for someone wanting to write the next great novel, or just get some peace and quiet.
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