Phil and I got our bikes and all the paperwork sorted out and hit the tarmac about half past two. Bournemouth is a bit hilly, full of roundabouts, not based on the grid system, and of course you keep the oncoming traffic on your right. Needless to say, Phil and I had quite a bit on our minds by the time we got out of the city.
One of the things on my mind was the price of petrol. It doesn't seem terrible until one realizes that two bucks doesn't quite get you a pound and they sell petrol by the liter. You do the math in your head and think that isn't so bad, then oh shit i need to multiply that by 3.78 which is hard to do when you're driving on a road with more twists than a Wes Craven film, no shoulder and there's a lorry half in your lane fixing to squish you like a bug.
We drove for about an hour in a northerly direction to meet Phil's in-laws. They were having coffee. Phil had a tangerine juice and I had a soda made from burdocks(what that guy was brushing out of his dog's fur when he hit upon the idea for velcro) and dandelions. It tastes like a mild version of fernet but with none of the buzz or aftertaste.
After catching up with them and a promise to get to their place for lunch on our return, we headed to Stonehenge. A yellow-toothed(or is it teethed?) long-haired sod told us we'd just missed it, they were closed for the evening. Perhaps he hadn't noticed that the monument was right by the motorway.
Yep, them's big rocks. The smallest weigh several tons and all of the stones came from at least 200 miles away sometime around 2200 B.C. Opinions vary as to how the stones were placed and for what purpose. I say manna and the staff of ra were used to make a calendar.
Upwards of a quarter-million neo-druids still gather each summer solstice to celebrate, presumably the changing of the seasons.
Two men with a hammer and screwdriver chipped a hunk off one of the monoliths this afternoon. Security personnel were able to stop the damage but the men are still at large. It wasn't us.