< ![CDATA[  When our children were tiny and we would take off for a long day’s drive with no destination in mind and they would ask where we were going the answer was always, “We’re going Millering.” The term stuck and our kids now know that Millering means spending all day getting nowhere certain. I guess this trip could be considered long term Millering. We left Stratford-Upon-Avon under grey and slightly dripping skies, wearing our prophetic rain gear, “just in case.” By noon it was raining steadily. We ate our lunch under an overhanging hedge at a gas station... classy international travel at its best. We slogged through our thirty miles: cold and wet. We pushed up most of the big hill into Coventry and instead of stopping at the cultural icon of Coventry Cathedral we opted for the comfort food of the IKEA cafeteria. It was after six in the evening by the time we finally rolled into quaint Corley and began looking for the Fern House Farm Campground, which was supposed to be on the main drag. We followed our trusty GPS into what turned out to be a neighborhood instead. Hmm. We talked to a local: “Campground? What Campground? Maybe you should try this other road.” So we did... add another three miles of cycling to the day’s cold, wet, total. No campground. Finally, tired and soggy we staked out a spot behind the Village Hall, planning to “stealth camp” out of site. Tony, reticent to set up without permission for fear of being asked to move in the middle of the night with five kids, dropped his bags and set out for “one more look” for the campground. He returned half an hour later with bad news and good news. Bad news: no campground. Good news: He found us a spot. The proprietor of The Horse and Jockey pub, in Corley, took pity on him when he stopped to ask directions and offered to let us camp in the beer garden behind the pub. So here we are, with five kids, shacked up behind the local bar for free... which is a nicer spot than the last two campgrounds we’ve been at because it has picnic tables, a play ground and good food. It rained hard all night... Meg slept in with us rather than get both tents completely soaked. We all slept great. This morning it was still raining. Hard. We went in for breakfast and sheepishly asked Steve if we could stay all day and one more night to avoid having to drop the tents wet and drag the children through another 25 miles of soggy English countryside. Amazingly, he seems happy to have us. It has been an educational day as he’s introduced us to all of his regulars as “My Campers.” We learned from a fellow breakfast patron that Coventry is the original home of Jaguar cars, Triumph motorcycles, Harrier jets, many of the tanks and airplanes produced for WW2 (which explains why they were so severely bombed by the Germans) and lots of other unexpected things. Steve, the owner, rigged the pool table in the back room so that the boys could run the same 50p coin through over and over and play a pool game by their own set of rules all afternoon. We’ve spent the day watching the rain fall in silvery sheets and worked on a pod-cast, read our books and listened to kitschy 80’s music intermittently getting lessons on English culture and etiquette. For example: one need not get a new plate with every trip to the buffet in the UK (you must in the USA) and tipping in restaurants is not required or expected here (although appreciated, I’m sure!) It is eight o’clock now. The boys are snugged into their bags in the tent out back. Hannah and I are sipping tea with lemon while Tony and the girls play our new card game, Five Crowns. When she is done with this cup of tea, Hannah’s off to bed too... she’s sipping slowly. It should get interesting later, as the pub is hosting an 80’s disco this evening... yet another cultural experience. We’re so glad we never found the campground!]]>