A Day At The Races – Part 4 – The Final Chapter

Then came the dreaded jaunt back to the B&B. I knew it would be a long one, but I had no idea. After sitting in the chilly night-time air for hours, now suitably cold-to-the-bone, we then had to queue for the return shuttle bus and because of how long it took for me to get from the stage to the buses, we were, of course, last in queue. (I’d like to have it noted that I was still wearing those magnificent shoes at this point! What a trooper, huh?! Not really, I know. At my time – and situation – in life, I shouldn’t be concerned with such things! Ooh… do you know, there was a guy there, in the street, selling flip-flops to all the ladies who were sick of their heels! Genius! I couldn’t bring myself to do it. You might think “who cares!” Which is pretty much my usual take on things, but for some reason, that night, I did. No flip-flops for me. Silly girl!). Eventually, we got back to York City Centre… but as it was after midnight and we were the last there, the Taxi queue was 100 yards long. I’m pretty sure it was a chunk of the 36,000 people that were at the races.

We were about a mile and a half from the B&B, I was so desperate to get back, I somehow got some strength of will (like Popeye after eating his spinach! Now if only it did work for my body! 😉 ) and was adamant I wanted to try and walk, the GPS said it was 20 minutes. I could do that, right?


With every step I felt each hip move, followed by searing pain. The ‘John Wayne stagger’ had returned! I got maybe 50 yards and gave up. ME. One of the few times in my adult life that I have done that and I was truly anxious about what I was going to do (Sorry to get all sober on you there!). Seems daft now, but in hindsight it’s come as a bit of a reminder of one of the single most important things in my life – As we sat in a McDonald’s having a midnight feast and a cuppa (the only warm place open at that time with a seat!), the man who has constantly surprised me, uplifted me and supported me for the last 2 and a half years, then got up and walked the mile and a half back to the B&B to get the car to come back and rescue me! My Hero 🙂 

(I know… soppy, right! 😉)

 my hero

(Okay, that bit didn’t actually happen… it would probably half kill the poor fella if he tried to haul my ass anywhere…!)

The parking on the outskirts of York is atrocious, Himself actually said to me, “…the worst thing that could happen now, is we get back and the only space left is taken”.

And guess what!



A lady was just pulling into the spot that Himself had pulled out of 10 minutes earlier! Thankfully, for the early time of 1am, the lovely lass was very understanding and pulled back leaving an inch gap behind her to try and make some sort of room for us (…the 3rd reminder for me that evening about how kind the human race can truly be! Okay, okay…. I’ll stop it! I know, enough with the cheesy already). I found one last bite of strength, got myself into that driver’s seat and did a 7-point-turn into that spot – even Jeremy Clarkson would’ve been proud of me!

As enjoyable as that day was, it was equally as tough. As much as I like to think I am a good planner, I am only human, I can’t plan everything unfortunately (I also forget a lot, which doesn’t help… those blasted drugs!). But you know one thing that will never change… It doesn’t matter how bad my dysplasia gets… I will always be better at reverse parking than Himself! 😉