Safely arrived in Lewes, but could not find a place to park for a while. We finally found one along a small residential street, parked and left. We headed to what we thought was the records office. We asked two people along the way, but no one could really help us. Finally, as if the Lord knew needed help, a priest appeared. We asked him and he kindly helped. He asked us where we parked and if we paid the meter. Uh, what meter? He drove us to our car to pay the meter and when we arrived (less than 10 mins.) a copper was writing us a ticket! Yikes. The priest raced from him car and said we were from America and to forgive us, which the copper did. Whew. He then asked me to follow him with our car and we went near the church. He gave me a day pass and then drove us to the archives.
I had no luck with my research, but I now know there is nothing I have missed there. We drove to Brighton, which was a lovely, but rundown seaside resort. The beach is all rocks and the sand on the cliffs is clay. Met my writer friend, David Rowland and he gave us a guided tour around--including Rudyard Kipling's house. He treated us to tea and cakes at the marina and we departed.
I am sitting in the pub, having a pint at the Weir Hotel and catching you up!
Cheers.
P.S. I was able to trade "Sticky" for an automatic today and life is good and Tanya is happy!
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