ABSTRACT
A few years ago, my wife and I, in what only can be described as a temporary bout of insanity, embarked on a two-week driving tour of England. After adjusting to the little mirror box of horrors (steering wheel on the right, gear shifter and rearview mirror on the left), better known as a Ford Mondeo, we left the relative safety of London and headed for the English countryside. After a few hours of white-knuckled driving we reached our destinationthe mother of all Western European building projects-Stonehenge.
