"I, for one, welcome our new robot overlords"

My second vacation of the year! Instead of driving across the Californian/Nevada deserts, I'm slogging my way through another university essay -- what fun! PJ has again wisely opted to head for the Disneyfied hell that is Orlando for yet another analyst "conference" instead of mopping my fevered brow at home. I don't particularly enjoy writing these essays. Thinking about them, fine. Watching the films, also fine. Coming up with devestating critiques, not a problem. Getting those fabulous ideas down on paper? Not so easy.

To get the creative juices flowing and to celebrate my final arrival into the world of adulthood, courtesy of my new National Trust card, I decided to visit an NT property after dropping PJ off at Gatwick. I would then meander home along the country lanes that make up the A272, avoiding all that nasty motorway driving. The NT handbook revealed Sheffield Park Gardens, a mere 30 minutes from Gatwick and just a couple of miles from said A272 -- and, wonderfully, the setting for some of the exterior shots for The Innocents, the subject of my essay! Perfect -- I love it when a plan comes together.

It all started off well. PJ got to Gatwick in time for his flight; I headed into the rather pretty town of East Grinstead -- home to multiple cults and lots of charity shops -- for a quick mosey round before heading down to Sheffield Park for opening time. A brisk walk around the lakes, some lovely shots of the house and gardens, a sandwich and some apple juice in the cafe, and then I hit the road to head home. I then made the mistake of following satnav. Denied its initial suggestion of M23/M25/M3, it sulked and then pretended to show me a route via Petersfield. I followed it dutifully, registering some concern when it took me south -- much further south than I'd intended to go. In fact, it took me down to Lewes and then along the hellish A27, all the way to the M27/M3. Gah! We've driven this route before and it's all Brighton suburbs, 40 mph, multiple roundabouts, and then roadworks round Portsmouth. By the time I got home, I had a screaming headache from the heat and frustration, and didn't feel like doing any work on my essay. Time to make some biscuits instead.

I have yet to experience the delights of Midhurst and Petersfield, but I will -- satnav be damned!