Heading North

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Heading North

Well, heading North was my intent at least.  To be entirely honest, I left Heathrow without any clue whatsoever as to where I was going.  Without GPS I was left lost and alone in a foreign land where almost nobody spoke English.  Okay, they all spoke English, but they refer to soccer as football over there so things could go haywire in an instead if I didn’t watch out.

As I departed the airport I fell back on my oft used technique to get myself out of 20150617_114127any jam – follow the crowd.  It works maybe 74% of the time.  Wherever the most amount of cars seem to be heading – I will head there too. At the very least you should end up somewhere safe (and maybe fun).  Amazingly enough the strategy worked as I got out of Heathrow and ended up heading North on the Msomething…….M1? I think that was it….

Regardless I was on my way!

Now, as I mentioned in my earlier post, that was just the beginning of my disastrous trip over to the UK.  I actually reached Huntingdon fairly easily, but from there I spent about 3 hours driving around in circles trying to find the Marriott.  And Huntingdon is not that big.

So, you may be wondering, “Ronniedigital, what was your first impression of Huntingdon?”

It was something like, “holy Mary-Mother-of-God, these roads, what’s wrong with these roads?  They’re clearly one way, but cars are going both ways……Why are cars parked in so many different directions?  Why are they parked in the street on a road that is not wide enough for two cars as it is?  Why is this car so effing big?  Oh, how cute, a fox.  Is it British?  I bet it is. Shit this road is too small.  I need a smaller car!!!  WWJD!”20150617_133628

After three hours of this and two stops at a Tesco, multiple stops to ask for directions, and having passed some locations up to 48 times I finally made it to the Marriott (by accident).  I also ran a red light at one point, and entered almost every roundabout in the wrong lane.

Yeah, that sums it up.  A disaster.

But wait, there’s more.  After my extremely exhausting trip I went to check into the Marriott and just as I arrive the power goes off.  This delays the check-in process slightly, but soon enough I was up and sleeping in my room.

Or so it seemed.  :(

About an hour into my stay someone entered my room using THEIR key car and quickly snuck out after realizing the room was occupied.  Although this was a bit unsettling, I was too tired to bother with details, and went back to trying to nap.  After about another hour a nice man in a suit also entered and came in far enough to say hello and apologize for interrupting my nap.  I then went downstairs and asked the front desk to cease and desist from sending strangers into my room.  Apparently due to the power outage they couldn’t log the key card in, or something like that, and decided the best tactic was to have everyone just check in to my room.

I’m back!

I am now back in Syracuse after finally departing the UK after a little over ninety 90 days.  I have actually been back for almost two weeks to be honest, but I’ve just now managed to stop crying long enough to actually recount the experience.

I suppose I will start by outlining my arrival in the UK.  The trip started out terribly as my flight was delayed for 749 hours.  Things would soon look up though20150620_151042 when I realized that on my flight from Newark to Heathrow I would be sitting between an elderly married couple who refused to switch seats with me.

Now, this was quite bizarre, but ultimately turned out to be fine as the people were lovely.  They somehow managed to not annoy me at all even when they felt the need to talk to each other.  The wife spent a lot of time watching Disney films, while her husband read a bit, and then watched a Monty Python film and occasionally burst out in laughter.  It was fairly adorable.

I slept off and on throughout the trip, but far less than I expected and did manage to watch the movie ‘Gone Girl,’ which I thought would be phenomenal, but turned out to be quite awful.  Okay, seriously awful.

Delta’s in-flight service was superb though with a tiny little touch-screen television featuring 8,497 different viewing options.  And if those viewing options aren’t enough you could entertain yourself by watching people unfamiliar with touch-screen technology freak the eff out on the tiny screen when it was non-responsive at times.

After my arrival I then headed out to meet up with my mortal enemy (although this was unbeknownst to me at the time) – EUROPCAR!

Europcar is National Car Rental – but not really.  They are to National what Bizarro Superman is to Superman.  They’re just evil.  Pure evil.  Oddly, National SFchallenge07fwas my favorite rental car agency previously because of their policy of letting you pick out your own car, but going forward I will be avoiding them at all costs as well.  Guilty by association I guess….

As an introduction, let me outline Europcar’s customer service policy.  It pretty much seems to be………fuck you.

I would guess they have two main instructions for new employees.  First, make sure you’re extremely difficult, and tell a tiny lie or two if possible.  Second, finish off every interaction with a big metaphorical fuck you to the customer.  That sums up my experience.

So, I arrive at Europcar and they immediately tell me that the price I had reserved the car for was for a manual transmission. I try to explain to them that this is nonsense because I cannot drive a manual (and therefore have no need for one), but after growing tired of arguing and wanting to get the heck out of Heathrow, I give in.  Having been awake for about 44 out of the last 48 hours and now needing to drive three hours to Huntingdon, on the wrong side of the road mind you, I figure it seems best to live to fight another day.

Europcar then asserts that there are almost ZERO automatic cars in the lot as everyone desires this new magical form of transmission.  I’m not sure why they keep emphasizing this 20150618_174951other than to make it known that they will not be honoring the price I actually rented the car for.  Okay, fine, but I still need a car – so let’s goooooooo.

Note:  Oddly, after walking through the lot for a bit I think I discovered approximately 847 automatic transmission cars so I have no idea what the hell they were talking about.  I saw maybe 10 manuals.  Maybe they segregate them….I don’t know.  Segregation is wrong though.

After initially putting me in for an Alfa Romeo (is that a real brand any more?) they ultimately give me a VW Passat.  After getting to the car and sitting in it and noticing that it is absolutely gigantic I go back in and ask for a smaller car.  We then search through the 847 other automatics in the parking lot and each time I settle on one they cannot find the keys to the car.  It’s simply bizarre.  You rent cars – how are you losing the keys to every car in the lot?  I’m almost dying at this point as most of the time they seem focused on renting me a giant SUV, and since I’ve never driven in the UK, I’m trying to sway them toward something smaller.  Like an enclosed moped or something akin to that.

Finally, after about an hour, and with it now raining, they finally force me to take some strange looking Mercedes that resembles a hyped-up super-awesome version of a Nissan Versa.  I agree to take the too-big-for-me car because it has GPS that comes standard and most of the others do not.  I figure this will come in handy as I have no idea where I’m going20150620_125941.

Well, as I drive out the parking lot I ask the attendant what’s up because the GPS isn’t turning on.  Like all Europcar employees he refers back to his training and says that the SD Card (or chip, or whatever chip allows the GPS to function) was probably stolen because they’re always being stolen and waves me on with what I would call the patented Europcar fuck you.

Note:  Whilst I’m talking about cars I would like to point out that Honda Accord in the UK looks exactly like an Acura!  Or, sometimes if I’m not mistaken, they look like an Accord in the front, but an Acura in the back.  Weird.

Coming up next:  My drive to Huntingdon!


Apparently the country I now call home is properly called by one of three names; England, Great Britain, or the United Kingdom.  It’s very confusing, but I’m sorting it all out as we speak.

From what I can tell, if you include Ireland and Scotland and some other place (Greenland or Iceland probably….maybe Denmark?) you have Great Britain.  If it’s just the country I’m in, it’s England.field  Finally, if you include Canada, South Korea, and West Virginia it’s the United Kingdom.  At least that’s where I am at the moment.

I planned on updating more often, but for the most part I spend my days heading into roundabouts, and very rarely exiting them.  I tend to go into a panic and just circle them endlessly.  I’m quite good at it – and I think it’s such a unique maneuver that it impresses the locals.

My first experience driving started straightaway after a disastrous flight experience thanks to United and my drive from Heathrow to my hotel ended here – in this field.  And my hotel was not in a field….I eventually worked up the courage to leave the field, drove around in utter frustration for 3 hours (never being more than 5 minutes from my hotel and eventually found my way to the Marriott).  As you can see the field was quite nice.

Welcome back again!

You may be asking yourself a question right now, and that question is more than likely, “did the Bronx Zoo ever have people in their cages as an exhibit you could visit?”  Well, great question, and the answer is YES, yes they did!


Poor Ota Benga.

Okay, so that may not be the question you were asking right at the moment.  The question you are probably asking, orUK should be asking, is…….”what the fuck is this?  A new post?  Where you been RonnieDigital?  Okay, that’s like eight questions, but you get the point.

Well, my point is – I am here to say sayonnara USA!  RonnieDigital is leaving the United States of America for greener pastures!  Or at least cloudier skies.  For the next 92 days I will be living it up in the United Kingdom of America!  Or the UKA for short…..Or as Deb calls it, “the place where all the good books come from.”  Or as I call it, “that place that gave us ‘Top Gear’ and toaster ovens.”

Or as my mom calls it, “the land of my overlords.” (Note: She’s Canadian)

Be afraid United Kingdom’ians…..be very afraid.

Rental Car Reviews

Since I have spent 100 of the last approximately 420 days with various rental cars, I figured it was about time that I reviewed my rentals.  This is also meant to serve as a  public service announcement of sorts in the event you have the good fortune step foot in a rental agency yourself!! 1. … Continue reading


The next stop on my tour of the country was Atlanta.  Atlanta is perhaps best known for being in Georgia, and, ummm, I think that’s about it.  Peaches, maybe??  I always thought Georgia was one of those states that never gets cold – it isn’t.  It was cold.  Very cold.  And by very cold I mean … Continue reading


I had my first visit to our nation’s capital this weekend.  I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I did figure at the very least I would get to see the White House and maybe some of the cast from ‘The West Wing.’  Honestly, the White House seemed a bit smaller than I thought … Continue reading


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