Day Two- Before the TT Begins

Today I spent a lovely day with Miss Sunshine. 
She arrived at 9:30am with a date with a Miracle Worker and the intention of introducing me to her ‘one and only’, the ‘love of her life’.

As I nervously got into her car and travelled on the wrong side of the road to her friends home, suddenly she darted across the road to park facing the direction of oncoming traffic. 
Hysterically I state

“You can’t park here.  You will cop a huge fine”
(This is going to be a phenomenon that will haunt us in days to come).

Laughing she informed me that you can park anywhere you want as no one will tell you off.  Oh how easy is traffic here in England.  They even stop to wave each other through if it is noticed that they have been waiting for a while.

Slowly getting my bearings, I realised that we were parked directly opposite the service-station where our lives were to change forever and The Organiser entered with a huge bang.  Imagine three years ago two drowned, exhausted, excited, scared Aussies landed, embarked on a harrowing journey up the motorway from London to Formby to join a rag-tag team of mates to experience the TT Races on the Isle of Man.

Walking up the pathway towards the home of the ‘Miracle worker’ an aura of energy greeted us with a huge smile and deep seated fear as she took a look at my flat, fluffy, lifeless hair.  Fourteen hours in planes, waiting in airports will have an affect on your body, well my hair. We made eye contact and both knew that this was a miracle in the making if she could make my hair presentable (as presentable as possible)  after a motorbike helmet was removed.  We have nine days of trying to be presentable infront of a group of merciless men.

Movement assaulted our eyes as a brand new StaffyxKelpie puppy, two little men under the age of four, some Aussie kids program playing in the background all vied for attention whilst darting around “the Miracle worker” who absorbed it all whilst focusing on my hair. 

As we entered her cottage, I was one again transported back to different television programs where English lives are played out for the world to see.  Lovely gardens full of spring colors, bees humming, birds chirping all made familiar English theme music play in my mind.  The quaint, cosy, vibrant, hospitable, friendliness in each of these homely English residences are mirrored across this beautiful country.  Just the contents, colors, occupants and energy mark the differences.

As I sat with a towel draped around my shoulders, conversation swirls around my head as jetlag hovers on the outskirts of my consciousness. 

Names are mentioned where dim recognition bells start to ring in the deep recesses of my mind. 

A sense of familiarity starts to dawn as I recognise names being mentioned. 

Though one name is not jumping to the foreground of my consciousness. 

Andy?

Nope.

Yes you do know him.  He went to the TT with you last year.

Ummmm.
Nope.

Suddenly the front door opens and in walk Grandma and Grandpa.

A deep male voice starts to bring facial memories to my mind.  The clouds of jetlag start to rise as in walks Andy.

Oh my…..thats not Andy.
Its Aprillis Tuono

Yes I remember him-from our first TT adventure. 
Can this world become any smaller?
After an hour where I was a captive audience, we emerged to climb into Miss Sunshine’s car to head off to meet the ‘love of her life’.

We enter a purely beautiful horse boarding stable which again allowed your imagination to run wild with visions of Miss Maples looking for clues as to who killed the butler in the downstairs parlour.

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We head to the stable where Daff resides.  He is currently out in the field with his mates, muzzled as he has been known to overindulge in the sweet grass growing in his yard.
A stern discussion takes place between Daff the Boss and Miss Sunshine.  He was making sure she knew he was not happy wearing a muzzle and being denied such sweet grass, whilst not heading her excuses that he can get diabetes, fat and terrible stomach aches. 

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He Sends her looks of quiet tolerance as she leads him over to meet me.

His attention was more focused on the grass he was walking over than meeting a new person.
                            
After cleaning out his stable, chatting to him and showing him some attention, we piled back into  car and headed off for lunch.

After lunch, we headed off to have a look at the Church and Reception venue where her whole future will change and the man she adores and loves will proudly stand beside her proclaiming his promises and love infront of family and friends. 
We arrived at the church. 

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My breath caught in my throat as I stared at one of the most gorgeous churches which evoked visions of Queens, Kings,

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Regal nobles all wandering around a Tudor Church and magnificent headstones celebrating lives lived hundreds of years ago.

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We then headed off to where the reception will be held.  Images of beaming faces, all thrilled to be part of this celebration bombarded my mind.  This is going to be such a beautiful celebration.
As we headed back towards the Hobbit House, we passed an unusual site, a van covered in turf.

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Can anything be better to advertise a law mowing service?

We arrive back to the Hobbit house and organise to head off for dinner- not the Cross House Inn which was where we ate the night before-

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Tonight we went Italian where Ducati 748 (Yellow Peril) joined us. 

It was a great meal, great company which was leading to a great
adventure ahead.

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