Last night we went to a friend's 'surprise' 70th birthday party. She lives a few miles out of town - too far for a taxi, so I braced myself for a comparatively sober celebration.
The woman's husband gave H.I. directions for approaching their house from the opposite direction, so we spent about three quarters of an hour driving up and down the 4 mile lane, trying to find a single satellite to ask directions of, stopping at remote farm houses and talking to people who had never heard of the place or the people.
One gentleman farmer asked which 'Manor Farm' I was looking for. If you know rural England at all, you will know that the most common name for a farm is 'Manor Farm'. Sometimes there is no more than a mile between one Manor Farm and another.
I said that we were looking for the Manor Farm on the Bradford Road, and he asked which Bradford Road I was referring to, so I got back into the car and drove off aimlessly. I had put the postcode of the place onto the notebook of my iPhone, but when I made a second attempt to commune with outer space, the postcode had completely disappeared.
We were supposed to be ready in hiding for the birthday girl's return by 6.30 pm, but by the time we eventually found the right Manor Farm (it was not a farm at all - it didn't even resemble a farm), we were just in time to get out of the car as she got out of hers with her hysterical husband.
She looked quizzically at us and started saying, "What's going on?" as I foolishly apologised for being late.
We did not completely spoil the surprise though, because as we walked behind her into the kitchen, about a hundred people suddenly screamed in unison, let off fireworks in the cramped space , waved their arms around and generally made enough commotion to cause a stampede of police horses.
She was so surprised, in fact, that she collapsed on the hard stone flags of the kitchen floor and had to be helped to her feet - by me. In truth, I think it was more shock than surprise.
I spent the next few hours cautiously sipping Prosecco (yes, I know, but there was no real Champagne for the likes of me) and occasionally going outside to puff nicotine-flavoured steam. It was a clear and starry night, and I happened to look up just as the European Space Station sedately drifted over. How ironic. You search in vain for a satellite or two, then the biggest one of the lot goes over as if mocking you.
I was reminded of a few Christmases ago when I spoilt the magic for about twenty young children by pointing up at it and saying "Look - that's the European Space Station!" Their parents had told them it was Santa in his sleigh, delivering presents. I seem to be good at spoiling things.
When it was time to go home, we got into the car to find that the dip-beam headlights did not work. I had already been warned by the dashboard about this, but I had mistaken the feeble day running lights for the real thing, so did nothing about it.
All the way home I blinded other drivers with full beam until we got to the street-lit area of town. It was either that or drive in total darkness.
Luckily there are no police out at night these days. We can't afford them any more.
Yes, indeed Manor Farm is a very common name for a farm. How do you spot a space station drifting overhead? Would I know one if I was staring up at it?
ReplyDeleteIt is an extremely bright and quite slow-moving object - imagine Venus moving across the sky at speed. You can check to see when it is due to pass over you, so you will not mistake it once you know what it is.
DeleteThis a very enlightening and educational blog post Master Tom - for I never ever heard of anyone being capable of sipping Prosecco,I am quite frankly amazed !
ReplyDeleteSuper-human control.
DeleteDuring my recent insomniac nights, I have seen two wonderful shooting stars, and several slow travelling satellites, through the Velux window. They make the otherwise tedious nights quite eventful.
ReplyDeleteI often fantasise about having a bed under a clear dome. That would be a feature of my ideal home.
DeleteI still use maps, it is old school but it works for me. I always have problems with sat nav.
ReplyDeleteSat Nav comes into its own in the maze that is South East London.
DeleteI held sat nav in contempt until Laura and I took the Texas trip in the spring. Dallas and Houston would have been impossible without me driving and her following the sat nav. I suppose that is a sorry or glorious state of affairs.
ReplyDeleteI shall go and check on the space station = I had no idea it was possible to see it.
ReplyDeleteIt is very visible. You may have seen it and not known what it was, Weave.
DeleteSomething to laugh over hereafter!
ReplyDeleteI was cycling along a very narrow, winding lane with sharp bends t'other day. Rounded the corner to be confronted with a HUGE 12 wheeler HGV artic which had been trying to navigate the impossible (for it) corner and dropped all its offiside back wheels into the 6 foot gully beside the road. The driver was just walking back up the lane to put out a warning of blockage (I could only just get through on my bike). It was a Dutch lorry and he must have been on sat-nav. Where he had come from and where he thought it would lead him I have no idea!
In the days before SatNav I found a 30 tonner stuck in the tiny lane leading from my cottage, having tried to get round an 8 foot wide right angle bend. They had to disconnect the trailer and reverse it 4 miles back using a fork lift. The driver had ignored the warning signs.
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