Non-Blat

Today dawned fine & clear - not a cloud in the sky, so in a blatant attempt to condition my wife to the Fury before the run to the Isle-of-Wight, we set off for Wisley & the RHS gardens therein. As I'd deliberately plotted a course through Woking so as not to subject her to the full blast of the A3 at 70mph, we arrived from the "wrong" direction & drove past all the traffic waiting to park, before turning in & joining the queue. It seemed the twin draws (a pair of draws?) of spring bulbs in bloom & butterflies in the green house was attracting the middle classes from far & wide.

As it turned out, the queue wasn't too bad & we parked only marginally closer than Woking & began the long trek in. There were disappointingly few pretty flowers out - I can just about tell a daff from a daisy, but it made for a pleasant walk - & my wife hadn't complained about the car, though I had fitted the special headrest for her, so I felt I'd made the effort.

As we watched, the sky darkened - there were a few spots of rain, so while the love of my life went to "powder her nose", I slipped out & erected the soft top - no side screens - I'd left those in the garage as the sky was SO blue. So we had a coffee in the cafe & waited for the rain to stop - it didn't & what's more it wasn't even pretending to try, so in the end we made a dash for it, & my wife elegantly ended up bum in the seat, legs akimbo, one in the car & one out, oh how we laughed! So after we'd regained her composure & zipped the roof back across her, I climbed in myself & we headed for the A3. This was indeed going to be a test of the practicality of transporting my wife by means of the Fury, it was fast, it was loud (for some reason louder than with the top down) & it was wet - by which I mean actually dripping on her. But she took it in good heart & we arrived home still on speaking terms, so now the only thing that can stop us Fury-ing the Isle-of-Wight is the weather - fingers crossed.