Home Depot Sweet Home Depot.

The speed of modern travel can be a little disorientating.

Morning

Afternoon

We arrived to find nobody waiting for us at Newark airport. Cric and Guy, the french couple who had the RV before us, were also at the airport wondering why we weren't there. After 30 minutes they arrived holding our names aloft - they'd been told by someone that we'd be at another gate. They'd been waiting for an hour and a half.

Needless to say the greetings were effusive. To travel like this requires a lot of trust in the good nature of others, and from the emails we'd exchanged we knew they'd turn up. I think they were more worried than us.

They drove us to the RV that is to be our home for the next three months. To our English country road minds it is huge. But huge. After an intensive induction session on the countless things we mustn't forget, Cric announced that we would have to leave the driveway it was parked in - because the rubbish truck arrives on Thursdays and all cars must be off the road. We must have looked like two sleep deprived rabbits in the full glare of a trucker's bank of fog lights. Fortunately a place to spend the night was only 3 miles away - in the car park of the Home Depot.

So in at the deep end. All went well on the drive, and after more intensive tuition Cric and Guy left us to our fate...

We bumped into them 30 minutes later in Walmart doing their shopping.