York

Between the many varied doctors' appointments, with positive results, and nursing some sweet, sick girls, I just haven't had a chance to write. However, here we are on this crisp Saturday morning, heading back to Wichita from Omaha, hopefully to pick up a renewed and restored motor home, and return to Omaha tomorrow, to be with the girls on Monday before Kristy and the kids get home late Monday night. The drive passes through Lincoln and on to York, Nebraska, and the sign for York took me back to some years ago whe we visited the Brittish Isles for a month.

In preparing for the trip, I had purchased a bed and breakfast guide for the area; however, I neglected to notice until MUCH later that the guide was for COUNTRY B & B's. You will just have to imagine some of the ancient places in which we stayed, some dating back to the eleventh century, which were still working farms. When we arrived in York, it was pouring rain, and we could barely see to drive, let alone follow the vague directions to the house. All of a sudden, a B&B sign appeared, so we decided to try it. The several gates which we opened in the pouring rain, led to an ancient stone house and outer buildings, which we later saw were listed in the The Doomsday Book. How amazing! As we were getting out of the car, our host came running out to greet us, and said he had room for us. We were the only ones there, and Jonathan, recently divorced and managing the B&B alone, like our friend Arthur, was a delightful host. He recommended a place to eat and called for reservations, and could only get us in at 5:30 or 9:30, which astonished us, being out in the middle of nowhere, and gave us directions. After cleaning up a bit, we headed out, quite sure we were lost as we drove and drove endlessly, it seemed, until in the middle of the woods, a small town appeared with the Hare's Inn ahead of us. We found a parking place on a hill, parked our rediculously oversized Mercedes, and carefully sloshed through the rain and mud, to find ourselves in the type of warm country inn where the "shooters" (hunters) could stay overnight. We sat in front of the fire and had one of the best meals we have ever eaten, a gourmet delight, while people introduced themselves to us and wanted to know what we were doing in their rural area. It was quite fun to be part of the shooters' victorious party! We said goodbye and began to leave, but the car would not start, at all. 1HW finally went inside, and the very "jolly" shooters came out to help us in the pouring rain, at first having us slide down the hill, and then trying to push us, causing several of them to fall into the thick mud, absolutely covered. Everyone finally decided the car would not budge, and they all agreed that it was a problem Mercedes had when the car got wet, of the "interrupter" not being able to function, which would require a factory resetting. SO they offered to drive us back to Jonathan's, which was one of the wildest rides we have ever been on, racing all over the narrow road through the forest at a breakneck speed, as we held on for dear life, with the shooters telling bawdy jokes and laughing all the way. It was like a scene from a movie! By then we knew all of their names (Christmas card list, you know), and when we arrived at Jonathan's, we offered to pay them for their time, falling in the mud, and gas. Billy, our fearless shooter leader, replied, "No indeed, ma'am! You're in GOD' S country! You're in YORK!"

The next morning Jonathan drove us to the Hare's Inn, where the hung-over shooters had returned to begun a new hunt and where the tow truck would meet us. The inn kept us well-supplied with coffee and chatter while we waited and waited. The town was so remote that the first tow truck from York got lost, and we had to wait for the second one. Four or five hours later, we finally arrived in York and received a new car from the Hertz people there, this time one of the new small European Mercedes which never made it to the US.

It was such a special visit, and we experienced such kindness from complete strangers, that we have since felt a close bond to York. And when we wander back there next, we will be sure to find the Hare's Inn!