After eating some croquettes and discussing the immense girth of american engines I had to be on my way to Ens on a ride that made me wonder what the midwest might be like if it were right next to the ocean. I found Jesse hanging with a family of Euro-rodders that were currently deep into the engine bay of a V6 powered Cobra kit and I then got a ride in a slammed 16v Mk1 golf. Being a hooligan is satisfying in any country. I then rode back with Jesse to ens and we took his sharp-looking Mk2 Polo to McDonalds to try American Fry Sauce. I have no idea what it’s made of but it’s great with fries! Afterwards we took a short drive around Jesse’s neighborhood to see what neat machines were lurking and finished the day by -what else?- watching an episode of Top Gear.
So many amazing people, roads, and experiences had passed through my world in my upward travel that I could hardly believe my fortune. From broad plains to high mountains, from four cylinder hatchbacks to other four cylinder hatchbacks my first time in the automotive landscape of the old country was informative and delightful and chock-full of sparkling water. No bad thing.
How would the UK compare? My plan involved a large loop around The Island, starting in the northeast at Durham and swinging by Glasgow, Manchester, Cardiff, Norwich, London, and other cities in between. I figured that if this didn't give me a taste of Great Britain then nothing would. Read about my my eyes nervously tracking speed cameras for literally a whole country in the next installment.