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Published: August 18th 2012
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"One should really spend one's days touring the vast tracts of the countryside that Europe suitably places enough taverns, inns and roads that satisfies a man's desires of sleep, beer and scenary without too much of a back ache to achieve them"
And with this in mind, I set my newly acquired plan into action. Charlie, a fine lady with a heart full of generosity gave me her motor to aid me on my route. Laura provided a suitable excuse by requiring her possessions to be relocated from the Iberian Penisula to heart of Central Europe.
Regrettably the trip was marred initially by a incident of the less discrete nature. We had been lodging in a little house in Canterbury. I was there, of course, to complete my pilgrimage to the grand cathedral that stands admit the city walls, only to find a ticket booth and burly looking woman demanding my fare. A scoundral's game to enter the House of God. I seem to recall a parable about merchant's tables outside a Temple. I would rather build a new cathedral than pay to enter an old one.
Well, as you can imagine, as any upstanding man of English
decent would be, I was in a damned funk with my day. Laura and I returned to our boarding house to find our seemingly lovely hosts making some conversation in a foreign tongue. Laura hastily chimes in and there is much merriment as we find out that these settlers of the Grand Isle are in fact Laura's countrymen. Now as a man who enjoys the companionship of many cultures I was inclined to believe that my knowledge of Hungarian custom was limited. The evening progressed and we joined in a couple of the local brewed ales. Our hosts were friendly enough and I was sure that eyes were being passed around the room in a rather less couth manner than my mother had taught me. As I say, I am culturally liberal man and I set it as my ignorance. We contined to drink and whispered words were made amongst our hosts that we neither wanted to nor did hear, for a couple's sanctity is paramount. The night was finished with a nightcap of Palinka, a throat scorching liquor if there is one, and I have to say my funk was lifted by this light entertainment accompanied by such a
sauce.
Then the oddest thing, the hostess began to suggest that some lodgers prefered to share their bed! And what is a polite guest meant to respond? I assured her that it was indeed a lovely bed but due to a old accident my back requires a harder mattress than her one. She then stayed, swaying slightly from Palinka in our room, watching us get into our sleeping wear. She tried one last attempt by suggesting that perhaps it would be fine idea for all if we were to share. I once again thought that for all our comfort it was best to perhaps avoid cohabitation.
The next day at day break - if the day had bothered to break that is, a thick fog having engulfed the town - we made a hasty exit and drove on continually to the great boats at Dover bound for Calais.
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