107. TGE/TGA (4/6)

 The GPS system proves to be completely useless at locating James. I am envious of James. How is that even possible? How does he do it? Does he change the name of his farm on a regular basis?

As we are rather aimlessly driving around, I can't say 'That's a good start!' in a sarcastic way again because one: it is not the start anymore and two: I am having a good time. But I cannot be changed into Mrs Perfectly Adorable that quick and so - ignoring my inner voice - I say:

'Is there even a James who lives in a farm/garage type of place that Google does not know about? Are you sure about this guy?'

To which my husband simply shoes his head and continues driving, peering over a hedge now and then.

We drive along country roads a bit more and I start dreaming about life in one of those cottages when my inner time-keeper nudges me awake.

'Show me this address, please. You must have driven past it. ... I look at the address. Not only it is on bit of paper (paper!!!) but who on earth has a farm/business with Sugar Loaf Lane for an address?

'Are you being serious? Is this the address? And all you have is a bit of paper? Seems dodgy to me ...'

'Yes, I'm sure. Look, we will ask these people here.'

He steps the car as a couple of English-looking English people are standing there outside a tiny shop front. As my husband gets his direction I can see that these English-looking English people are English indeed. The shops sells hand-made wooden cricket bats and wickets!! Hand-made! Wooden! I resist the urge to get out of the car and to go in there to take pictures and ask a hundred questions. I am even consider buying cricket bats as Christmas presents this year. Thankfully - or not - my husband comes back.

'Just up there, we ignore the left turn and drive up till the end of the lane.'

My inner voice is telling me: 'Have faith, woman! This is happening for real!'