So, this whole USA driving thing. Is it turn left on red or turn right on red?
I kept forgetting. Well, at least up until that truck last night screeched to a halt, tyres smoking and horn blaring as I screwed up yet another intersection.
At least First-Born is enjoying my attempts at navigation. She sees it as all part of a ride.
I got suckered into having our names and photo stuck onto the sculpture at the base of the Epcot giant golf ball thing. That should be a slightly longer lasting memento of our stay than the gouge down the side of my hired Nissan where I misjudged the position of the barrier in the car park.
If anyone asks, my name is John Smith from London, ok?
