So this is the view that greeted the little kiddies outside our window this hallows eve. The perfectly carved pumpkin and a wierdo with glowing lights.

We had one group of nippers turn up and when I answered the door with a scary face on (not mine but the mask and bloody Tshirt) poor boy looked said “oh god”, jumped back and had to be caught by his mum, poor sod.

This was Twick or Twick at our house, we got to make a kiddy have nightmares tonight, and ate the rest of candy ourselves, hee hee.

Next year we will be visiting the folks to scare the bog trotters.

So Mrs Fogg and I went to see the Armstrong and Miller show in York after buying the tickets exactly one year ago. An absolutely fantastic show, isn’t it.

Now parking in York is tough at the best of times, however on a Saturday night it is almost impossible. Going into the pedestrianised zone (which you can do after 6pm), the Mrs got tugged by a copper in full whollier than thou condescending mode. “where are you from” asks the copper, quick as a flash Mrs Fogg said we had only just moved into the area, “well you have just gone through seven no right turn signs for this road” (in actual fact after looking back there wasn’t even one) “I should give you a £30 fine for that” (ahh what you mean is I want to make you feel small and insignificant and I fancy a takeaway and you will be paying for it).

So Mrs Fogg debated whether to challenge the exact location of the said signs and instead went with the I am unsure of the area approach, “that’s no excuse, road signs are road signs regardless where you are from” (mmm wise words indeed and thanks for stating the bleeding obvious). “I’m going to let you go on this occasion however I have a good memory for faces and cars so I will be watching for you” (right so you have made a note of the drivers name and reg number in your crayon like handwriting in your non-existent handbook have you!).

So off we drove feeling duly put in our places and feeling that much safer in the knowledge that the general public are protected from the menace that is the right turning traffic.

Mrs Fogg was very polite, I think we all know that had it been me, then I would have been on a cops TV documentary (or how to make the police look like an even bigger bunch of public hating individuals) and arrested because I have no time for people who like to show they are better than you by talking to you like you are ten, failed their army entrance exam and couldn’t live with the embarrassment of being a security guard.

So glad we pay for hard working people to solve crimes and not find soft targets such as the motorist.

So, Mr Fogg and I are watching The Skulls on TV which has a scene about a dual between the two lead characters. Mr Fogg immediately imparted “Well, if I were in a dual I’d want the weapons to be sausages”.

Ok then, everyone clear on that one??

Poop film

Yeh RV bucket returned, refund given, gotta love complaining in the USA (gave the chappie his keys and the cupboard door as the Mrs scared off prospective customers with tales of shoddy RVs).

So back to the strip for a cracking lunch at Harley Davidson Cafe, with Mrs Fogg in an interesting Tshirt. See how many comments she gets?

Next stop the airport and 12 hours back to Gatport, 4 hours kip, then 6 hours back to home.

In time honoured style, here in a brief list is our two week tour:

– 1,800 miles
– 311 dollars in gas
– 7 different campsites
– Average distance 180 miles (3 hours)
– Longest distance 592 miles (11.5 hours muppets)
– Slept in 2 locations over 7,000 ft above seal evel
– 1 cupboard door (fell off)
– 5 displaced screws
– 1 leaking shower
– 3 Steak BBQ
– 3 states (Nevada, Arizona and New Mexico)
– 27 Radio Telescopes at the VLA
– 1 Observatory
– £28 phone calls to the RV company over vehicle issues
– 34 Blogs
– Propane tank of $6.59
– 6 Mozzie bites on the Mrs
– 1 argument yet to be had when we hand back the key, screws, cupboard door, aircon unit and microwave

Everything else, priceless