Last day in the UK: Lavanham, Bury St. Edmunds, LHR

8/26/2013 (Mon).  Sat night, we ate at the Angel, an up-market pub in Lavenham.  S asked what were the rutabaga-looking plants he saw in so many fields.  Our (cute) waiter didn ‘t know, but asked the manager, whose father was a farmer.  Sugar beets, he replied.  Oh, said I, the EU must have sugar subsidies, just like the US.  Per S, I went on in this vein for some time.

Otherwise, a v nice dinner – S had fish & chips & I had duck & took some of his chips.

Yest, we spent a while talking to other guests – all British--one a lawyer turned accountant (but worked for a private firm, so didn’t need to deal w/ IFRS) and one a lawyer who had worked in the US who did M&A.

We drove to Bury St. Edmonds & wound up in the service (S wanted to enter while services going on).  I stayed (it seemed rude to leave – the ushers had brought me a hymnal & pamphlet, and one invited me to take communion, even after I explained I was Jewish).  V pretty cathedral, expanded quite recently.

Then we set off for Heathrow, on the A14 to the A11 to the A505 (cutting across the A(1)M, not to be confused with the M1.  I tried to help navigate, and emitted my usual squeaks and winces when we got too close to curbs.

We got nearer to the M25 (London Orbital) and our hotel, and I looked at the confirmation and realized air conditioning not mentioned.  OMG.  Also, on interrogation, learned that the Ibis was the 2^nd cheapest London Heathrow hotel.  S told me to Keep a Good Attitude.

My good intentions lasted until we got to our room, which was tiny, stuffy, and faced west.  “Air cooled”, not to be confused w/ air conditioned.  I glared at him.  I sulked & called reception, who asked had we turned on the ventilator (of course we had).

S said, go down and sit in the lobby, which I did for a while, trying to compose a scathing review on Trip Advisor on my iPad, but then TA wanted me to sign in w/ Facebook, and I couldn’t answer the security questions (where was your Mom born, for heavens sake) so it never got posted.  I went back to the room (still stifling), fumed & glared at S some more.  He led us (by a free bus) to Heathrow Terminal 2, where we had supper in a quasi-pub, and I calmed down in the cooler air.

I threatened to walk to an air conditioned hotel & file for divorce forthwith.  He insisted we try to ask reception for a cooler room, which we did, and wound up in a 1^st floor room facing east, which was 4-5 degrees cooler than the other.  We schlepped down our stuff, I lay down, took an Ambien, and quickly zonked out.

When I woke up, I found I was still married.