Monday, 29 September 2014

Will my backside ever recover?

So we took Number One Son back to Uni yesterday, for the start of his 3rd year.  This puts him half way through this programme, as in addition to giving him his Bachelor's degree at the end of this year, he then has a 4th year which gives him his Masters!  After that he intends to go for his Doctorate...

Anyway, back to the present.

We headed off at 7am (later than usual) and had a great run straight up to Lancaster.  A few road works dropped the speed limit to 50 for a while, but we just cruised through, chatting to my younger brother (the driver) all the way.  My brother is never short of chat - a body building ex-bouncer who now drives taxis as one of several jobs, he is full of hilarious stories - such as the couple who are both cheating on each other, swearing him to secrecy with large tips when he takes them to their various dates...

So we arrived to the usual crowd of greeters, found his new dorm (he is intent on living on campus for his entire time, not wanting to risk the problems that shared houses can bring) and unloaded.  We then went into town for a nice pub lunch (I had chicken and ribs) before saying our goodbyes and heading back south.

Then we hit the traffic.  At times we were stopped dead.  It took 3 hours to cover the first 100 miles.

Just as I was going to suggest hitting the services for a rest to give the traffic time to clear, everything got moving again.

For a while.

Then it stopped dead again.

We continued to chat, digging further and further as time passed ending up with some really interesting stuff that would probably never have been shared otherwise.  It was good!

So we stop-started our way down the country, dreading what would happen when we reached the notorious M25, the motorway that runs around the outside of London.  I think this is what Americans call a Beltway?  It is normally horrible.  We stopped just short of it for a break (our legs and butts were really suffering by now), and continued on our way.

But, for some reason, the traffic just seemed to vanish when we got to the M25 - I guess everyone was going INTO London instead of around it!  The last hour was plain sailing, and we arrived 8 hours after leaving the Uni.  I waddled into the house, said hello to Number One Son who was talking to Mrs RC on Skype from his drom room, and plunged into a hot bath.

My butt and legs still feel odd...


ShadowRun300 said...

8 hours?! Sounds like it was good brother bonding time, but sheesh! It's so aggravating sitting in traffic like that. I bet that bath felt great!

Riot Kitty said...

Traffic fucking sucks, doesn't it?

Abby said...

You're tougher than I am. I can't take being in a car for that long! Although, your brother's stories would definitely help, I'm thinking! Glad you're son's back safely hitting the books.

terri said...

Your son is so driven! Good for him! Hope he has a great school year.

That is a LONG time to be in the car. I've done a few long road trips, but always with the ability to stop for something good to eat or to see some fun sites along the way.

Rock Chef said...

ShadowRun300 - The bath was great - anyone listening in might have thought I was up to more than getting into a bath ;-)

Riot Kitty - That is certainly one way of putting it!

Abby - Yes, he is back with his books, all ready to roll - hope this year is as good as the last 2 have been!

Terri - Yes, he has always been totally self motivated, sets his own goals and always achieves them. An amazing kid!

Linda said...

Yes, it is called a beltway here. I have some serious back problems and driving up and back for 8 hours would paralyze me. I drove for three hours today to the doctor, and I may not recover for days.

Your son is right about shared housing. My son could not wait to be free of home, but he asked his father if he could come back home because he never got any sleep.

CiCi said...

Wow, third year already? Can remember when you took him for his first year away. Mrs RC had the advantageous position staying home and then video chatting with the son after you deposited him at campus.