Sunday we picked up our (first) rental car at the airport but hadn't even gone a mile
 when the clutch went out, and while cars, buses, and trucks were honking their horns, my
 mother and I pushed the smoking car off the road. It was more than four hours before we
 set off again, with a TomTom navigation system for our trouble--this really helped us on the
 rest of our trip!

         Because of the late start, we scratched our plans for the day and headed straight for
 the Manor Farm B&B where we would spend two nights. As it's getting later, we find our-
 selves traveling through villages with stone walls and wonderful old cottages--we feel we've
 stepped into a story book. 

         Unfortunately, it was after 10p.m. when TomTom told us "you have reached your
 destination" and we were out in the country miles from any town! We turned around and
 returned to the last village we'd driven through and stopped at the only place open, an
 English Pub; there are still a few people there and they're more than willing to help us.
 Although they are not familiar with our B&B, someone knows where the village of East 
 Horrington is and after someone else lets us use their cell phone to call ahead, we are on
 our way again. But it's still not so easy, as we miss our turn; after turning around again,
 we find a sign pointing down a very narrow lane indicating the way to go (no wonder we
 missed it previously) and I turn onto what mom calls a 'cow path'. Mom wanted me to turn
 around, but it was approaching 11p.m. and this was the only way I knew to get to East
 Horrington, so I continued to drive down the narrow road--it was so narrow that the hedges
 were touching the car on both sides!

         We finally reached East Horrington, turned onto the only other road in the village and
 there was the gate for Manor Farm B&B! Our host still had the light burning to greet us and
 we were led into a flagstone entry, through an interesting living room with a huge fireplace,
 comfortable furniture and warm pictures, and into a hallway. He opens a door and we're
 looking at the steepest stairway--it goes up about five steps and then angles left to our
 'suite' which includes a large bedroom and bathroom; to the right the stairs angled to a TV
 and game room, but we're too tired tonight to do anything but tow our suitcases up those
 steps to our room and settle in.

         It was interesting to think we were sleeping just a few miles from where our ancestors
 had lived prior to immigrating to the U.S. And we also wondered if any distant relatives were
 in the area.    

   
 
         The next morning we had breakfast in a delightful old dining room 
  with leaded glass windows out to the back yard, flagstone flooring, and 
  a sideboard filled with Portmeirion Pottery that mom admired. The other 
  guests that morning, a father and daughter and a Japanese couple,
  had all attended the Glastonbury Festival that weekend, and we
  exchanged travel experiences. 

         After breakfast, mom wrote in her journal out on the picnic table 
  (at left) while I planned our trip for the day. We were in this area to 
  see where our ancestors had lived and find out if there was anyone
  still in the area. I had found my 10-year-old great-great-great-grand-
  father in a 1841 census, and that resulted in our having the names of 
  his family members and through later census information the names of 
  future generations of our family. In talking with our host that morning 
  I learned there were a number of people he knew with the family 
  name we were looking for, including the older man who had been a
  hired man at the Manor Farm back when it was a working farm--he
  lived right across the road. We were warned he is very old and
  forgetful, but did try to contact him as well as others by that name
  known to our hosts, but without any success.