One sweltering day in August, when my patience was at its stickiest, I received an email from a discount tour guide. He was offering personalized legacy trips through England, helping Americans reconnect with their forgotten aristocratic heritages.
Having always sensed my innate nobility, I was sure the trip would deliver a fascinating reveal.
(It was promised in the advertisement.)
I phoned two friends, proposing we flee our oppressive environment to seek our oppressive roots.
I was not alone in my enthusiasm.
Both friends suspected they were distantly royal. It was worth checking out.
After calling a financial associate to propose a credit limit increase, three tickets were obtained, and we commenced our journey.
Continue reading “Three Americans in a Picanto”
