The Continuing Adventures of the Black Lung! Part 2: I meet the man of my dreams and also go to Mr. Darcy's House

Unless otherwise noted, all photo credits go to Niki Erickson, an awesome photographer, a fantastic friend, and a really top notch traveling companion. Thanks, Niki!

 I left you last time on a train to Manchester, which is a stress free but expensive way to travel. Niki and I were both looking forward to the freedom of having a car, but as the car itself drew closer, we began to get nervous. Driving a car  on the left side of the road with the steering wheel on the right side of the car may be less expensive than trains, but it is certainly more stressful. What if we couldn't do it? What if we crashed the car immediately and were stranded in Manchester for the rest of our vacation?

One thing we didn't think to worry about was whether or not the car place had forgotten us. But they totally had! And of course, we got to Manchester so close to the end of business hours that no one was available to pick us up, so we had to walk to Enterprise through a rather sketch part of the city. Dragging giant suitcases. Unsure of our way. Good times. Fortunately, we are awesome, and a weird  but nice guy gave us directions, so we made it to the rental place 5 minutes before closing.

At that point, we were both really tired and annoyed (and hungry. I feel like I spent the entire vacation either starving to death or being full to the point of vomiting. This does not happen in my real life, you guys). Luckily for us and the women of Manchester, the guy who helped us rent our car was dreamy. We spent a lot of the rest of our trip talking about how cute he was, and how we could get him to join the Church, move to the US, and marry one of us. We never came up with a really good plan. Suggestions in the comments, please!

Anywho, we were conducting some car business with Joe (not a euphemism, although there was a lot of giggling going on. He's so good looking, and we loved his accent), and expressing some concern about our ability to drive in the UK. And get this, he said, "I have faith in you." Swoon! We love you Joe! He also asked if we wanted manual or automatic, and after laughing hysterically, we assured him that there was no chance we could successfully drive a manual anywhere, let alone with a funky steering wheel and on the left.

Behold the Vauxhall Corsa! Good little car, but I was happy to be rid of it at the end of vacation.

 

Finally we were ready to leave, and by ready I mean there was no conceivable reason for us to stay any more. Niki gamely (or reluctantly, depending on who you ask) volunteered to drive first. I volunteered to navigate and also pray that we wouldn't die. And it was my job to yell, "Left! Left!!!!" whenever I thought Niki was veering into the right lane out of habit. Actually, those were always the jobs of the person in the passenger seat, because we are both super brave and took turns driving.

In regular, American life, I think Niki and I are both good drivers. But UK driving is different, y'all. Everything is in the wrong place! More than once when I was driving, Niki freaked out because she suddenly thought she should be holding on to the steering wheel and she wasn't. More than once when she was driving, I was sure we were going to go over the side of cliff (we weren't, I'm just paranoid). It's really hard to sit on the left and have no control. So, we definitely hit a few curbs, and scraped a few bushes, drove on the wrong side of the road for a minute or two, and shaved a few years off our lives after a very near miss with a biker (Sorry, guy! I really hope you didn't notice how close you came to death, because it would put you off biking forever. My bad!). Also, the roads in the UK and Ireland are really, really skinny. It wasn't a huge deal for us, because our car was tiny, but still, there were giant semis driving on them, and buses, and sometimes it seemed unpossible to pass anyone coming the opposite direction without being crushed like a bug. And that's not even counting the one lane roads, of which there were a decent amount, especially in Skye. Also, many of the roads are super steep, and our poor rental car did not have a lot of get up and go. Plus! Plus, the speed limits seemed really fast for really skinny, very windy mountain or loch adjacent roads.

However, and not to ruin the end for you, but we made it through the rest of our vacation without actually crashing our car. We totally got the deposit back. We are awesome at driving! Oddly enough, since I've gotten back to the US, I've more than once had the sudden horrified feeling that I was supposed to be driving on the left. I'm hoping this feeling passes soon, because you're totally not supposed to do that here. I guess I worked so hard to convince myself that driving on the left was normal that I finally succeeded. I have great powers of persuasion.

So, yeah, after we got our car we drove to our hotel, which was actually a really fancy golf resort called Shrigley Hall. We didn't play golf, because that would be lame, but it was a beautiful hotel with great views. And low ceilings by the window. Don't stand up too quick from the coach, is what I'm saying. This was also the first night that we watched British TV! J'adore British television. Seriously, some of their stuff is insanely funny. I became quite fond of Never Mind the Buzzcocks and 8 Out of 10 Cats. At first, I thought they were the same show, but once I had the internets again, I figured out that they were just similar. I also watched a fair amount of Law and Order: UK because Jamie Bamber is a dreamboat.

Shrigley Hall. It's an actual fancy pants hall that they've turned into a golf resort. And my first experience with British driving was in the Shrigley Hall parking lot!

 

The ceiling in the lobby of Shrigley Hall. Totescore amazing, right?

 

But enough about that. Let's talk about the really exciting stuff-the day after we got our car, we went to Lyme Park! For those of you who've seen the 1995 version of Pride and Prejudice with Colin Firth, Lyme Park is where they filmed the exterior of Mr. Darcy's house. For those of you who haven't watched it, Look at your life, Look at your choices. The interior of Pemberley was filmed elsewhere, which is a shame, because the inside of Lyme Park is awesome. We learned a lot about the Legh family, who used to own the house when we were touring it. For example, did you know that their family crest has a severed arm holding a flag? It's true, and it's all over the house. Apparently, the first Legh to own the property got it as a reward for saving the Black Prince. The standard bearer had been killed and the standard taken by a French guy. The Legh ancestor galloped up and killed the French guy, saving the Black Prince, and tried to take the standard back from the dead French guy. Unfortunately, he wouldn't let go, so they lopped off his arm and carried that around. Good times. 

First sight of the South Front of Lyme Park (as opposed to the North, East, or West front. There is no back on these great houses) aka the side that's the front of Pemberley.

 

Anyhow, the house and grounds are beautiful, but I'd be lying if I said we weren't super excited to see Mr. Darcy's house. It was so awesome! It felt like we might see the gentleman himself at any moment. We never did, but we totally ate lunch there (they have a restaurant). And we tried valiantly to find the famous pond, but the map was way confusing, and we never made it. But who even cares! Lyme Park is amazing, even if you don't like Pride and Prejudice.

Eeeeee!!! We're at Mr. Darcy's House! Eeeeee!

 

We may not have found the pond, but I'm in love with this lake. It has a random island in the middle of it!

 

After spending way too long at Lyme Park, we finally drove North. We passed through the Lake District, which is amazingly beautiful. Next time I go, I'm spending some time there. But we had a goal in mind, and that goal was Scotland! It took us much longer than we would have liked to get to our destination of Edinburgh (we had to pass up Peebles, where many Veitches live, and Melrose Abbey, where Robert the Bruce's heart is buried-it was already closed when we finally got there) and we still didn't get to Edinburgh until about 10 PM. And Edinburgh is where our journey will continue next time.

The Welcome to England rock!

The Welcome to Scotland rock! They're the same rock, fyi. And look, the Corsa!

To Be Continued...