The Preston Temple is in ... Chorley?

The next part of the trip was a last minute addition.  After I had bought my ticket, my parents called and asked if I would be able to swing by and add them to my plans.  It was a minimal cost to change the flight and I could add a couple of days so I said "sure, why not".  My plan was to first drop off the car in Glasgow and then get onto the train and travel to Preston where I would then get off, take a taxi to the Preston Temple, stay at the temple accommodations and then attend a session the next morning.  Sounds simple right?  Well, I will tell you that when traveling in Europe nothing is that simple.  I started out this leg of the trip on the wrong foot by first getting a late start (what else is new) from Glasgow and then by assuming that just because the temple was called the "Preston Temple" it was in Preston England.  I mean, the Salt Lake City temple is in Salt Lake City.  The Logan, Draper, Bountiful, Provo and so on are all in the towns that they are name after so I assumed that it was the same everywhere.  Making that assumption was my first mistake.  I had looked up the address before I left and I noticed the name Chorley, but because I believed that I knew where I was going I didn't think anything of it. I did a little research on how to get to the temple and what I read was that from the train station it was just a simple 5 min taxi ride, no more than 5 to 7 pounds.   What I didn't read was that I needed to get off at the Chorley station and not the Preston station, which is over 20 km's away (at least).

 

Because I was unaware that I had gotten off at the wrong station,  I get out (it of course was raining) and find where the taxi's are waiting to pick up passengers and enter the next taxi in line.  I should have known that something was wrong when the taxi driver didn't recognize the address.  I sat in the back as he looked at his map and then after what felt like 30 minutes (but probably no more than 10) he let me know happily that he found it and off we went.  He was foreign to England so I had a harder time understanding everything, but he kept up a steady stream of pleasant conversation as we traveled and the whole time we talked I watched the meter going up.  5 pounds, 7 pounds, 10 pounds, and I am starting to freak out. 15 pounds, 20 pounds, and finally 26 pounds later we arrived and I believed that I had just been taken for a ride.  What was supposed to be a 5 min ride turned out to be almost a 30 min ride and I was lucky that I had been able to change some of my Northern Irish pounds into English pounds or I would have been in TROUBLE.  I was so mad because I had been traveling all day and I had arrived there late and was worried that I would not be able to check in and I would be stranded and then on top of everything this taxi drive had just taken the stupid American tourist for ride.  When he dropped me off, he was concerned for me, but I just wanted to get away from him before I gave him a piece of my mind so I went into one of the buildings on the temple grounds and hide until he drove away.  I then found out where I needed to go, called for security to check me in and went to my room and cried.  I had some time before my roommate, a lovely sister  named Carol from Nottingham (how cool is that) got back from doing work in the temple all day so I unpacked, washed some of my clothing and tried to rest.  When Carol came in I told her my tale of woe and she was great and took really good care of me and I ended the day on a really nice note. 

 

 



The next morning I was able to go and do a session and then when I was coming out of the Celestial Room a sister grabbed me and asked if I had time to do some sealings.  I said "sure" and off I went.  I was able to help a brother out with his family and I have to say, he has some interesting last names in his family tree.  Names like (and I am not kidding) Urg, Honeybuns, Piggins and Sly.  I had lunch with Carol and then she, in her kindness, took me to the train station.  It was here that I learned that the cabbie had not take me for a ride, but that I had gotten off at the wrong station.  It did only take 5 minutes and I was ever so grateful that I had not given the poor man a piece of my mind.  Sorry to whoever you are!  Let this be a warning to whoever is traveling.  Make sure you know where you need to go before you set off.

 

The rest of my day was going from train station to train station...

 

Chorely Train Station

 

back to Preston Train Station

 

on to London Train Station

 

Walking to the Chunnel Station - it is funny that as often as it rains in London, Londoners really don't like getting wet.

The Chunnel station is on the other side of this cool hotel (I would love to come back and stay one day)

 

 

I was able to buy my ticket and I hurried to the holding area because I was late and needed to get there.  I needn't have rushed because the chunnel was an hour late. You can see how packed the holding area was with all of the people waiting to get on the chunnel.  I had a hard time even finding a place to sit down.  I was worried that I would not be able to find Mom and Dad as I had no cell service and I wasn't sure how to connect with them and let them know what was happning, but I figured I would be ok as I knew their number and I hoped that I would be able to call them when I arrived if they were not there.  1 hour and 30 minutes later I was in Lille, and wouldn't you know it I had no idea where to go but I followed my gut and ran right into my parents, who where waiting for me. 

A big huge mural on the wall of the Lille Train Station.

 

 

Having finished the organized portion of my trip I just have to say that I saw some amazing things and I know that I just scratched the surface of both Ireland and Scotland.  I want to go back and see so much more and I hope that I will be able to do so really really soon.