As with most, if not all, transatlantic flights, I arrived the morning after departure having flown for seven hours and, flying against the sun, lost another five from the east coast, eight from Phoenix.  Anyway, it was tired and there was a car to fetch, complete with paperwork, etc.  I stopped on my way to Fishlake at the home of some motorcycle friends from Arizona.  They were just minutes off the motorway, so I stopped for a coffee and sandwich.  Thank you John and Molly.  When I arrived, Rachel and her family were there to greet me.  I had seen the family last year as they visited me in Arizona and stayed in my park model for a week.

We start the day with flakes and flicks	From left to right: Rebecca 6, Hannah 8, William 4	Around the table from the left white chair John, Eve, Hannah, Rebecca, James, William, Rachel	Arriving at the car park in York about two miles from where we want to be
York train station.  Most rail stations are this nice.  Notice the clock time is not correct. Strange for a rail station, eh?	A walk on the Shambles in York.  Notice the overhang second story in order to avoid the street footage tax	James is brokering tickets to Jorvik, a historic ride through York as it was in the 12th century	I don't know how I got this picture.  Do you think, "Singing in the Rain?"
This family does not travel light.  Note the lunch box in the foreground.  I bought the girls new lunch pails and they carried them around everywhere, may have slept with them.	Don't knock the electronics.  If I would have had them, I would have used them.  We had to settle for an 8-track with Hank Williams.	The local pub underwrites a concert every year for charity.  It was weird to be in rural England listening to American music from the fifties and sixties complete with Elvis impersonations.