Glastonbury, Autumn 2001

 Well, another fabulous trip is coming to a close.  I am down to my last few days I have in the UK.  What a wonderful time I have had. But I have saved the best until last.  On Wednesday evening Phil and Ann came over and "collected" me.  This is such a treat for me, as I think they are some of the nicest people I have ever met.

The view from the top was just awesome.  I was going to say breathtaking but I didn't have even so much as a puff to spare at that point so I will settle for awesome. I tried to imagine what it must have looked like when it was all swamp and islands but my imagination just wasn't up to it.  There were quite a few people up there just laying around either snoozing or reading.  Ann and I went over to the edge that faces toward her house and waved.  We had given Phil an estimate on about what time we thought we might be at the top and he was going to go upstairs with a pair of binoculars and look for us.  When we compared notes later, he said at the time he looked he couldn't see us. At the bottom of the hill was a curious looking cairn with the mileage to Wells on it and some Celtic symbols on it.  We never did figure out that the point of it was.

After we left the Tor we drove down toward Glastonbury and parked in one of the car parks and walked into the town centre.  Next stop was the Abby.  I am not sure what I expected, but I was quite surprised at what was there.  I think I had something more compact in mind.  The ruins cover all of 37 acres!  According to the guide book (I ALWAYS buy a guidebook) It is traditionally the first Christian sanctuary in Great Britain, visited, so legend has it, by Joseph of Arimathea and Saints David & Patrick. Many believe that the Holy Thorn tree that can be seen in the grounds originated from Joseph of Arimathea's staff and others are convinced that King Arthur was buried in the Abbey beside his lovely wife Queen Guinevere. We spent some time browsing in the gift shop and then set off to explore.

The first thing we came to was the ruins of the Lady Chapel.  This was the most intact site on the grounds.  We explored it rather thoroughly and then set off to find the spot where King Arthur is supposed to be buried.  We never found it but it hardly mattered.  We just wandered around enjoying the lovely day until a little inner voice started reminding us that it was lunch time. 



We had lunch in a great little vegetarian restaurant on the high street called The Rainbows End.  Out back there was a garden seating area where we enjoyed a delicious lunch.  Afterwards we shopped the High Street.  The tat shops, book shops and the Celtic jewelry shops.  Ann had three lovely silver pendents on chains of various sizes and I told her flat out that I wanted some just like hers.  So we went from a jewelry shop to jewelry shop looking for just the perfect little Celtic pendents.  I finally found just what I wanted except for the chains. 

My Glastonburry Pictures

 

Windsor, Autumn 2001

Windsor Castle from the Thames

Jenny and I "did" Windsor on Saturday while Bob and two of his cousin's husbands went to the local pup to watch football and drink beer. This was not my first trip to Windsor. The first time I visited her was in 1979 when the girls were quite young. My best memory of the castle on that trip was while on the guided tour Joanne, who was about eight at the time, took one of the tour guides to task over the state of one of the rooms we were passing through. No matter what they had on offer today, I doubted if it could top that experience and besides the cost has gone up to eleven pounds. (!) After a brief planning session in car park, Jenny and I decided we would take the 2 hour boat tour down the Thames.

Eaton College from tour bus

We had three hours to wait so we hopped on the green and tan tour bus. The tour operater on the bus was excellent and I think I learned more about Windsor this time that I ever have before. The bus took us across the river to Eaton college which appears to be a small community rather than what I would normally consider a "school" It was founded by Henry VI in 1440 and is probably the most famous school in the world. While we were riding past the playing fields I remembered that I had read somewhere that "The victory at Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eaton." I don't remember who said it, or where I read it but it came bubbling up from some dark and murky corner of my mind.
The bus came back across the bridge heading towards Windsor proper. We passed along the edge of Windsor's great park which is just below the castle. It was established as a park in 1360 as a hunting forest.

Henry VIII Gate

The oldest part of the town is located immediately opposite Henry VIII Gate and there are several cobbled streets here, dating from the 17th century. The Old King's Head in Church Street has a plaque recording the execution warrant for Charles I in 1648. The building is said (by some) to be the place where Shakespeare wrote "The Merry Wives of Windsor". We passed the house of Nell Gwynne, favourite mistress of Charles II. Next to the Crooked House Tea Rooms you will find Queen Charlotte Street, the shortest street in Britain ande Guildhall, built by Sir Christopher Wren (architect of St Paul's Cathedral in London) in 1690. The story of the Guildhall is that the councillors did not believe that Wren's design could stay up, and insisted that the central columns be added in the interests of safety - Wren built the columns, but made them an inch short of the ceiling!

Entrance to Royal Train Station

After a very pleasant and informative ride around the town we got off on the High Street just behind the castle and wandered towards the Royal Train Station. While it still has one track and functions, sort or, it's mostly been converted into a very upmarket shopping complex. Very posh!! The entrance to it makes you feel like you are entering Diagon Alley. I must have been in dire need of food and about to collapse because the picture that I took of the entrance is a little off kilter. We had a delicious lunch in one of the resturants and then wandered around just enjoying the sights until time for our boat trip.

Sculling on the Thames at Windsor

The boat trip down the Thames was lovely but brisk, and I took about 30 pictures. This journey passes through Boveney Lock, Sutherland Grange, Willows, Oakley Court, Bray Film Studios, Queens Eyot and Monkey Island, Eton College, the Mill House, Windsor Racecourse and the Brocas Meadows. I found all those names in the brochure because I guarantee you I would have never remembered them. It was a lovely day and lots of people were either out on the river in various craft, or were lounging around on the river banks. Everyone waved at everybody else. This is such a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours but there was so much to see that it was impossible for my mind to retain more than just sketches.

Don't let their looks fool you
these birds can be very aggressive.

There are many lovely homes along the Thames and you can just imagine what one of those little gems would cost. A while back I read a book called To Say Nothing of The Dog." by Connie Willis in which the main characters take a boat trip down the Thames. I had this trip in mind the entire time I was reading it. We passed another tour boat that had obviously been chartered for a wedding reception. That was a very convivial bunch of folks. I hope that no one fell overboard. I am putting a picture of the swans on this page because I they made such a lasting impression on me. Not on this trip, but back on the 1979 trip Joanne and I were sitting on a bench eating our packed lunch at this very spot when one then hopped out of the river, marched over to us and demanded our sandwiches. Believe me these birds that look so lovely and peaceful in the water are in fact very large, vicious criminals. Naturally we gave up our lunch. We had no other choice. I didn't grudge the swan the sandwich, but I did resent the terroristic threatening part and I have never been able to gaze fondly on swans since.

Window Shopping

We did a little window shopping down the main shopping street and then got back to Paula's house about 7:30, just about the same time Bob and Steve came weaving in from the Pub. They had a wonderful time it seems drinking beer and eating curry and the team they had been rooting for won so they were a couple of happy, tipsy people.

On Sunday Paula fixed a sumptuous breakfast for everyone. She and Steve are the couple who got married on my last trip over in the church I was so impressed with. I wrote about it in my 1999 Windsor journal. I didn't get a chance to really know them at the wedding as everything was so confused, but this time we had a chance to sit down and get acquainted. They are such nice people. At noon we all left to go downtown Windsor to the Harte and Garter where we met up with other members of Bob's family for a Sunday "Carvery" which is what they call a buffet dinner that includes Roast Beef, Yorkshire Pudding, Ham and Turkey. The Harte and Garter is one of those old, old restaurants and very nice. You have to book a table at least a week in advance for the Sunday Carvery.

After lunch we all took a stroll heading down hill towards a Pub along the river that had outdoor seating. There were 11 of us and the route took us through the shopping district so it took quite a while for everyone to show up. But it was a lovely afternoon. The ladies all drank tea (just like in the novels) and the guys nursed pints and everyone just visited. Later on it got chilly and everyone moved inside until the end of yet another football (soccer) game.

While we were there a couple came in with a little boy about four years old. The dad was watching the game and the woman was chatting with the lady behind the bar and to keep the kid amused she gave him several 2 p coins and the kid entertained himself by pulling a chair up in front of the slot machine and putting the coins in the slot, and of course the machine wouldn't take them so it would dump them back out in the tray and the kid was pretending like he had won. The machine in the meantime was flashing lights and making noises and the kid was pushing buttons and I'll tell you, I have seen lots of adults playing the slots in Las Vegas who weren't having nearly as much fun as that kid was.

Link to Windsor photo's

 

Jersey Island, Autumn 2001

I will have to qualify my earlier statements that this family does not to mornings well, to they do not do mornings well unless they have too. We rolled out of bed at 3:30 am and by 4:18 am were pulling out of the drive in the pouring rain, headed to Weymouth. We arrived at 6:30 am and met up with Gordon and Christine, long time friends of Jenny and Bob's.

One of the truly wonderful thing about visiting and traveling with Bob and Jenny is that while I never know where I'm going to end up next or by what method of transportation I will arrive there I know that wherever we do, I'm going to love it.

In 1995 it was the Orkney's via a small dirty ferry, in 1997 it was the Scilly Isles via helicopter and this time it was Jersey via ferry. Not just any old ferry but "One of the worlds most advanced wave-piercing catamarans that cruise at speeds of up to 41 knots." 

Ferry Interior

The ferry along with every other form of transportation has heightened security. The officials did a halfhearted search of the car, looking in the trunk and asking all they regular questions about had we packed our own bags, etc. We all stumbled up to the passenger deck and groped our way to the buffet and purchased a badly needed up of coffee/tea and some breakfast. The crossing was a bit choppy but I had taken some seasick pills as a precaution before I left home so I had no problems with my tummy. 




We arrived about 11 am and eventually, after many wrong turns and much hilarity found our hotel, L'Emerald. 

Jersey is the largest of the Channel Islands and gives its name to a type of pullover and to a breed of light brown dairy cattle that originated on the island. The capital of the island is St. Helier. According to the tourist information "Jersey is loyal to Britain, it is a Crown dependency and not part of the United Kingdom. The Island, which is located in the English Channel is about 15 miles from the French coast and 90 miles south of England, is small about 10 miles by five miles and has a population of about 85,000. It's a major international offshore finance centre holding deposits worth billions" and I've been told that unless you were born on Jersey you are not allowed to buy property there unless you can verify that you are worth at least a million pounds. That's to keep the riff-raff out I guess, but  it would hardly keep out the big time criminals who,  I would think,  are probably the richest of anyone. Oh well, that's not my concern.

Hotel L'Emerald

As soon as I walked into the lobby of the hotel my imagination went off on a tangent.  It was the kind of a place where you would not be the least bit surprised to see Hercule Poirot in the dining room having breakfast or some Nazi officer strutting in through the front door. It was circa 1910 (or earlier) My room was up 20 stairs, along a corridor, through a door, down five stairs, around the bend, up three more stairs and Voila! I had arrived in room six. The room was small, the carpet was shabby and non-too clean and the bathtub had a rust stain. But aside from that, the rest of the room except for the carpet was spotlessly clean.  The bed was very, very comfortable and the bathtub was larger than my cabin on the QE2.  It was so big I could stretch out and float in it and hot water gushed from the spigot. I loved this hotel.  The place had character. Much nicer to my mind than a cookie cutter Embassy Suites or it's ilk that until you go outside you could be any place in the world they are so much alike. There was absolutely no doubt about that hotel. It was BRITISH! 

After dumping our stuff in a heap in the middle of the room we set out to explore St. Helier. We walked all around the shopping area down near the waterfront. You would think you were in France if you went by the names of the stores and shops. Because Jersey enjoys duty free status it's a veritable shopping Mecca.

We found the most wonderful indoor market. It was sort of an up market market.  The market covered about half a city block and was crammed with all kinds of produce, meets, bakery goods and because Jersey's climate is very mild year round, fruits, vegetables, flowers, and of course dairy products are the major industries on the island, aside from sheltering money that is. 

Finally we all started feeling the effects of our very early start that morning and with some difficulty because we got lost again found our way back to the hotel for a shower, or in my case, long deep bath and a nap. Jenny consulted the tourist information booklet that we had picked up and did a very unscientific eeny, meeny, miney moe and managed to find what the taxi driver told us was the best food on the Island. I think he was probably right. Terrific dinner. I had the lamb.

On Sunday morning we visited the German Underground  Hospital, built during the German occupation of Jersey from 1940 to 1945 using forced labor. Originally planned as an artillery barracks and ammunition store.  Then when the Allies invaded Normandy the Germans,  figuring their turn was coming, converted it into an underground hospital and bomb shelter. Today it is operated as a museum and sets out the story of the appalling hardships the residents of the island underwent during the

After leaving the museums we circumnavigated the island, stopping at scenic overlooks and stopping and walking along the beaches. We had a terrific pizza for lunch and the Pizza Express and had an ice cream cone for dinner. I took sixty-seven pictures and bought a bunch of post cards.

My Jersey Album on Picasa

The ferry left at 9 pm, 25 minutes late but managed to make up most of the time on the journey back. We must have really been zipping along. I dozed most of the way back. We arrived back in Bristol about 2 am I think. </P>

The North of Scotland, Autumn 2001

On Tuesday night Nicky and I went to Cardross to Rhona and Iaine's house for dinner. I have known Rhona since she was a little bitty girl as she and Nicky have been close friends since 2nd grade. Nicky has known Iaine the same length of time but he was a year behind her and Rhona in school.

Cardross is a lovely little village that has apparently been a settlement on the banks of the Clyde since the beginning of time. It is believed that Robert the Bruce died here from leprosy in 1329. The picture is of Kirkton Chapel, a 12th century chapel which is one of the oldest religious sites in the area. The chapel is dedicated to St Mathew who is said to have lived before the time of St Columba. The simple much restored chapel was rebuilt in 1467 and was used as a school after the Reformation until the mid 19th century. It then fell into decay but was restored by the Roman Catholic Church and rededicated in 1955. While restoration work was being done part of a standing stone bearing an inscribed cross was unearthed. This has been attributed to the earliest Christian period. The stone has been re-erected in the vestibule of the chapel. Some ancient tombstones can still be seen in the ground.

Cardross

I learned that another interesting ruin that I have been admiring for years as we zipped back and forth through Cardross does not in fact date back to Robert the Bruce as I had assumed but only goes back to WWII, as a ruin that is. Obviously I am not very good at dating ruins! Rhona informed me that it was the village church and was hit by a bomb. Clydebank is just down the road and because of the ship yards there it was heavily bombed. Sometimes the Germans would dump left over bombs that somehow didn't release over the target indiscriminately and on one particular occasion they got the village church. I guess the village just let the ruin stand because in a country dotted with picturesque ruins they didn't feel the need to tear it down and put something modern and ugly in its place. Besides there are lots of graves surrounding it so I suppose that was a factor as well.

On Wednesday morning Nicky and I loaded up and headed out for "The North.” That's what the signs on the Motor Way coming to Scotland say. Just "The North." I love it. No messing around with fancy highway signs, just straight and to the point. We didn't get a very early start as this branch of the family doesn't do mornings all that well, but by 11 a.m. we were finally on the road.

Glen Coe

We took the A82 along the entire length of Loch Lomand, past Loch Tulla and Loch Ba and through Glen Coe. It was such a beautiful drive, through Luss, Tarbet and Ardlui but when we got to Glen Coe it not only took my breath away, it almost brought tears to my eyes it was so achingly beautiful. It's one of those places like Culoodon and Stonehenge. You can just feel the history of the place all around you. Of course it doesn't help that the weather can be particularly broody there. We were right in the heart of the Grampian Mountains and the west of Scotland gets so much rain that there are almost always low clouds brushing the peaks and the glens stay misty a lot so it all combines to give off a sense of drama. Whatever it is, I am always moved almost to tears in Glen Coe.

Nicky Loch Ness

So, onward then up the road that borders Loch Linne, through Ft. William and then the A87 cut off at Glengarry toward the Kyles of Lochalsh. I can only repeat myself and say over and over how beautiful it all is. We passed Loch Lockey which I always like the sound of as it's spoken. Loch Lockey...has kind of a ring to it, don't you think? Along the A87 between Loch Claunie and Loch Duich a small river cavorted along beside the road. It darted back and forth under the road, first on one side, then the other, ducked into a natural rock tunnel beside the road, then jumped down a couple of small waterfalls, and as a grande finale turned into a miniature roaring rapids. When it finally reached the bottom of the hill, with a soft gurgle and a happy sigh, it gently emptied its self into Loch Duich.

At Dorney we stopped at Eilean Donan Castle and had a cup of tea in the tea room, took a couple of pictures and decided to head back toward Inverness. It was getting late in the afternoon and the rain that had been spitting down on us all day decided to get serious, thereby limiting our viability. One bonus that came with the on again, off again rain was that we almost always had a rainbow somewhere in line of vision for the whole trip. It followed us around so persistently that Nicky and I started to wonder if Jim had decided to come along with us. (Surely you have all heard my rainbow story at least two or three times by now).

Inverness

It was right at dark when we got to Inverness so we decided to return the next by the say route except for cutting off to the Kyle of Lochalsh. We checked into the B&B which was clean, convenient and had a comfortable bed. Down along the river front we spotted an Irish Pub called Johnny Foxes and decided to settle for pub grub for dinner. Well, that turned out to be not much of a "settling for" situation. We had steamed mussels, rib eye steaks with some kind of out of this world whiskey sauce, accompanied by a salad that was in actuality a chef's salad and topped it off with a Café Mocha. We could barely make it back to the B&B!

The next morning we did a quick wander around Inverness, checked out the Victorian Market and this time headed toward "The South" along Loch Ness. It was a glorious morning but the sun was so bright it almost blinded me. Nicky says that it's because this far north the sun is so low that it aims its self right into your eyes. I'll buy that I guess.

Fort William

We stopped in Ft. William this time and wandered around the town center, took a few pictures and I bought myself a real dorkey hat. Nicky couldn't believe I would actually wear it out in public but I love it! She kept walking a little to the front of me like she had never seen me before in her life, laughing and shaking her head in one of those "Grandma's really lost it this time" kind of ways.

The Drover's Inn

Our gorgeous morning suddenly left and the weather sulked and brooded all the way through Glen Coe. We stopped for a late lunch at The Drovers Inn in Ardlui, just at the head of Loch Lomand. It was established in 1705 and probably hasn't had a good cleaning since. There was a brass (I think it was brass) salmon over the huge fireplace in the main bar that has apparently been being smoked for the last 297 years. We had steak pie, chips and veggies. We remarked that this is seemingly our week for pigging out on red meat.

We arrived back in Dumbarton tired by happy and the odometer on Nicky's car said that we had traveled 401 miles.

Tomorrow I am going into Edinburgh with Joanne. Nicky is going to go around a pick up the kids from school so that Joanne and I can have a one-on-one day. We are going to take the train from here as parking in Edinburgh is a nightmare. Then the next day we are all going into Glasgow to the Barrows, the huge flea market. I need to by a bigger suitcase!

Aboard the Queen Elizabeth 2

Making a transatlantic voyage aboard an ocean liner was the dream of a lifetime for me. It was also my first time aboard a cruise ship so I had no idea what to expect. Let me tell you, I could get used to traveling this way. I had a wonderful time the entire five days and six nights aboard the QE2 for the journey from Boston to Southhampton. Since I was traveling in the least expensive accommodations available, my cabin was, as expected very small. But it was also very comfortable. Especially the bed. I had no trouble sleeping at night. Every night you hung a little menu on your doorknob with your breakfast selections checked off, along with the time you wanted it, and in the morning a steward would come tapping on your door with your breakfast. There was a convenient let down tray above your bed so you could comfortably have your breakfast in bed.

 The crossing was very calm and I didn't experience even the slightest motion sickness. The ship set all their clocks back every night was we steamed across time zones so I had to remember to set my watch every evening. This is the ideal way to avoid jet lag. I never even noticed that I was losing an hour every day.

On day one the first thing I did was search out a place to send an e-mail to the member's of my reading group to thank them for the beautiful flowers that were waiting for me in my cabin. On one of the upper decks I found a Computer Learning Center where for an exorbitant fee you could sign onto the internet. The second thing I did was to search out the SPA and make an appointment for a massage. I was stiff and sore all over from traveling for 18 hours the day before. While I was there the lady talked me into having some kind of treatment where they smear green slimy stuff all over you. It's supposed to remove all the toxins from your body. I thought "what the heck, I'll try anything once" but I think I got more out of the massage and a good nights sleep than by having all my toxins removed.

By the second day I was feeling revived enough to go exploring to see just what this ship had to offer. Map in hand I started as high up as I could go and worked my way down. There is a moderately well stocked library on the Quarter deck for those who want to spend their time relaxing with a good book, or further aft there is a Casino and Bar. In fact, there are a lot of bars on the QE2. They even have a movie theatre on board showing current movies. I kept meaning to go see one but kept getting distracted by more interesting things like watching for dolphins and passing ships.

The food and service was excellent and every crew member that you met greeted you with a smile. But I also have to be honest and say that the ship is defiantly showing it's age and I would describe it as "shabby genteel." The upholstery throughout is wearing thin, the upholstered chairs in the lounge areas feel like they have been sat in a few times too many and outside decks and deck chairs are weather beaten and you kind of worry about getting splinters in your bum. Someone said that after the first of the year it's due into the yards for a major face lift and I think that if Cunard wants to keep this ship competitive it will have to do that.

The Lido Grill was the place to go for lunch. Much less formal than the Mauritania you could find sustenance there 24 hours a day. I met some very nice people aboard and spent a good deal of time sitting in the easy chairs grouped around the windows on either One Deck or the Quarter Deck chatting with other passengers. According to the captain we took the northerly route across. It was a little chilly in the evenings out on the deck but during the day, especially in the stern where you were out of the wind. It was lovely and sunny every afternoon. The waiters served tea outside to the passengers who were lounging on deck. The very lap of luxury.

For reasons that were never explained, the Opera Company that was the scheduled entertainment did not make the trip. I imagine that it had everything to do with the recent terrorist attack in New York. The resulting entertainment was pretty obviously very patched together while some of the entertainers were very good, some were only so-so. There was an Illusionist with only three tricks who tried to fill in the gaps between as a stand-up comedian, and group of ten singers and dancers who did Broadway show tunes who were very good, and a comedy dance team who where not in the slightest bit funny but were wonderful dancers. But I think that Cunard did the best they could under very trying circumstances. They really made a heroic effort to collect all their scattered passengers and get them to Boston and aboard the ship. They deserve a lot of credit.

The shops were fun to browse in, as in it's fun to see how the other half shop. Everything was entirely out of my price range. There is even a branch of Harrods. I looked to see if they had any shopping bags like the ones I bought in Harrod's Knightsbridge store the last time I was over for me and Marianne but they didn't carry them. Tee shirts were $59.99 so I probably couldn't have afforded a shopping bag anyway. On the last day they had a little "sidewalk" sale outside the jewelry shop and dinner rings for ladies were marked down to a mere $1500 or so. Sheesh! I did see a sequined top almost exactly like the one I bought off the clearance rack in J.C. Penny's for this cruise on sale for $300. That made me feel much better about the $29.95 I paid for mine.

Dinner each evening....Ah Dinner! The restaurant I was assigned to for dinner was the Mauritania. Restaurant seating is assigned according to your cabin class, but the food is identical in all of the restaurant and was truly excellent. Monday I did not make the formal sitting as I had scheduled a massage at 4 p.m. and by the time it was finished I was too relaxed to bother getting all dressed up. I slept through Dinner on Tuesday, but Wednesday, Thurs. and Fri. I got myself all gussied up and showed up in the dining room on time. Wednesday it was rack of lamb, with prawn and asparagus in rosemary sauce for starters, Thursday we had Beef Wellington with some other kind of prawn starter, and Friday night we had Roast Beef w/Yorkshire Pudding. I had a berry soup that was out of this world. The Yorkshire Pudding was the only thing on the entire trip that I wasn't impressed with. Bob makes much better Yorkshire Pudding than the QE2 Chef does. But the Roast Beef was grand.

Everyone rolled out of bed early on Saturday morning as the ship docked at Southampton at 6:30 a.m. Customs had set up in the Queen's Lounge on One Deck for all the non UK citizens and we all got our passports stamped and then waiting around until about 9 a.m. when they had all the luggage ashore. There was no customs inspection of baggage. Probably decided that after the careful scrutiny everyone's suitcases got in Boston they would give people a break. So, while I was a tiny bit sad that the trip was over, I was looking forward to seeing everybody and getting on with the rest of my trip.

Wales - Autumn 2001

Fake Castles, Grouchy People & Condoms

In some ways Wales proved to be more interesting that I expected it to be and in other ways it was a big disappointment. The first place that I headed for as soon as I arrived was the castle. Located in the heart of Cardiff it was in easy walking distance from the train station. I stopped by a tourist information office located on the street leading to the castle but the staff was not helpful. Apparently providing tourists with information is not what they are there for. They did not even have any brochures. Fortunately I had done some research on line the night before and had checked out the web site for Cardiff Castle. However, I failed to to realize that the castle was fake. Well not fake exactly, the castle is real enough, but it was built from the plans of a real medeaval castle and is certainly fake since the whole castle was built in 1868 by the 3rd Marques of Butte (a Scot). Only the Norman keep inside the walls and little bits of the wall which incorporate the remains of the original wall built by the Romans All the rest is about 140 years old.

I am not sure exactly how to describe the inside. I have not seen the like since my Brother and I visited Hurst Castle in California. William Randolph Hurst and the 3rd Marques were definitely of the same school. A really outstanding thing about the interior is that when it was built central heating was installed, along with hot and cold running water and flushing toilets. For 1868 this was really leading edge technology.

The 3rd Mq. was supposedly the richest man in the world at the time he built this, his Papa having made a killing as a coal mine owner who branched out and bought his own ships to ship it and his own brokerage houses to sell it. Sort of cornered the market and in doing to put Cardiff firmly on the map as a great coal mining port. Cardiff is a beautiful city. Of course it ought to be, there is lots of money here. It's obvious even now long after the coal industry has gone that there is lots of new industry here. Many of it's old buildings are being renovated and turned into luxury flats. The also have a National Welsh Museum that I did not have time to visit that has the largest number of French Impressionist paintings on display outside of the Louve. I am going to try to make it back to Cardiff just to see that if I can work it in.

Now you would think with all that going for it that the people of Cardiff would be a cheerful bunch of folks, wouldn't you? Not so. I was really surprised to notice how sour pussed the people of Cardiff all seemed. Not only had the staff in the Tourist Information Shop been unhelpful but when I took a ride in one of those double decker tour buses, the tour guide managed to remind everyone at LEAST five times that we weren't in England anymore, that this was WALES. Did he think perhaps that the passengers were not aware of this fact and were under the impression that Cardiff was part of England? The guy was a real jerk! Throughout the entire ride he managed to remark as he pointed out the lovely buildings that we passed (and there were many lovely buildings) how they superior to anything to be found in England and to let us know how many Welsh serviceman and women perished fighting and presumably single handedly winning England's wars for them. It got very tiresome after a while and I'm not even English! The Scots are very nationalistic too but they aren't shitty about it.

It was not just the tour guide. Shopkeepers were a pretty dour bunch as well. It was obviously a great inconvenience to them to have to go to the trouble of ringing up your purchase. As a result, I spent less than 10 pounds in Wales and five of that was for the bus tour. The rest was for post cards and the admission to the Castle. The heck with people who can't take a joke, right?

  And while I am on a rant here, l might as well continue it and tell about my trip through the lovely and quaint indoor Victorian Shopping Arcade directly across the street from the Castle. It was done up very sweetly, with hanging baskets, soft music piped in from somewhere. I browsed around in one of the little specialty shops that sold Celtic jewelry. I would have bought some too because they had some really lovely pieces, but if I hadn't been already ticked off with the whole place. By this time when I say the whole place I am talking about all of Wales.

There was a shop that sold every kind of button imaginable, a sidewalk cafe‚ and tea rooms, and there nestled between a shop that sold Welsh Tartan's (I didn't know the Welsh had tartans but apparently they do) and musical instruments was a Condom Shop that had a great big penis sign wearing a pink condom and a smile, or perhaps it was a smirk, or even possibly a leer, painted on it hanging right outside the door! I think I audibly gasped and I was for sure shocked right down to the bottom of my American Southern Baptist Bible Belt toes. Displayed in the window was a basket of penis shaped pasta, boob shaped pasta and a wide assortment of packets of condoms that I had not realized before this, come in all shapes, sizes, colors and designs and I presume, although I can't say for sure, flavors. There was also a box about the size of a one-pound box of chocolates, labled Passion Kit that contained two big globs of some lime green substance. My mind just boggled at that point. I have described it to B&J and they can't imagine what it could be either. If I make it back to Cardiff to see the paintings I will go back to that shop and try to work up the nerve to go in and take a close enough look at the box to read the directions. I will never get up the nerve to ask. But one thing for sure, I didn't need a tour guide to remind me that I wasn't in England, or for that matter definately not Arkansas.

 So that's my Welsh adventure. A day of surprises. Fake castles, passion kits and grouchy shopkeepers. Tomorrow we are leaving at FOUR AM to drive to Weymouth and take the ferry to Jersey. The photographs on this page are postcards that I have scanned in just in case anyone who knows me thinks that my photographic technique has suddenly improved. The day was very dreary and all my photographs turned out very dark so I have improvised.





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Little Rock to New York Post 9/11 - Autumn 2001

After several days of not knowing whether or not this trip was going to happen as planned, my travel agent called and said it was a "go" So bright and early on Sunday Morning, September 16, 2001 I presented myself at the Little Rock Airport at 5 a.m. and began what was one of the longest days of my life. I started to say one of the most tedious, but on reflection it was only tedious in spots. Both the plane from Little Rock to Atlanta and the one from Atlanta to La Guardia was only about one quarter or less full. But security all along the way was as tight as warned and the delays were as long as promised. The flight from Little Rock into Atlanta was uneventful and I had no problem making my connection to New York. The plane into New York flew right over Manhattan and we got a literally a bird’s eye view of the huge hole with smoke billowing up from site where the World Trade Center had stood.

Because the Port of NY had been closed by the New York Port Authority, both the QE2 and the Coronia had been diverted to Boston. Since all passengers had made their travel arrangements for New York's La Guardia Airport and it was too late to change them to Boston after September 11, Cunard picked all incoming passengers from LaGuardia and JFK and ferried everyone to the Hotel Sheridan in Downtown Manhatten where they had arranged for tour buses to take everyone on to Boston. In the process we got a wonderful unscheduled mini tour of Queens and Manhattan that included passing by Radio City Music Hall, Central Park, and Park Avenue.

Hundreds of passengers destined for both ships were being gathered up and deposited in the Sheraton's huge ballroom. Harried Cunard staff members were desperately running around sorting passengers and luggage into groups that would fit on a bus, and hopefully all going to the same cruise ship. While Cunard was obviously doing everything possible to make sure everyone got sent in the right direction, it definitely felt like we were being rounded up, sorted, and shipped out like cattle. Finally about 3 p.m. they got it all figured out and they started loading everyone into buses for the 4 ½ hour trip to Boston.

On the way out of Manhatten one of the areas I recognized was Harlem. The sign on the Appolo Theatre gave it away. Although this was not a tour bus, the driver did point out the building where Clinton now has his offices. From watching the news in Little Rock you could easily get the impression that NY was all a smoldering ruin. The actual devastation is only in what looks like one little spot from the air. The rest of NY is carrying on what looks like business as usual except that you see flags everywhere. In windows, hanging from balconies, on cars, every place you can stick one. This little unintentional tour of New York was a little bonus I wasn't expecting. I would love to spend some time there someday. It looks like such an exciting place.

We arrived in Boston about 9 p.m. into mass confusion at the dock. We discovered later that there had been a bomb threat to the QEII and we were met by the Military. The FBI was screening every passenger and every piece of luggage that was going aboard. It was a little after 11 when I got to my stateroom, starving to death since I hadn't eaten anything all day except for the breakfast sandwich I had brought from Little Rock to eat on the plane. I consulted the map of the ship that was provided in the packet of papers I found in my cabin, and by more luck than skill at reading maps, found the Lido Grill. I don't even remember what I ate, but it took care of my hunger.

Back in my stateroom I barely had my wits about me enough to glance through the information in the packet to see if there was something urgent I needed to know. Sure enough, instructions for having your breakfast served to you in your stateroom which, you have to admit is pretty urgent information, as well as an announcement of a life boat drill the next day and a list of the entertainments scheduled the voyage. Tomorrow, I will think about all that stuff tomorrow

Bristol & Bath - Autumn, 2001

Bristol & Bath

First Day Lunch at The Swan, Portsmouth

Bob and Jenny were at the terminal to meet me when I arrived in Southampton. We drove to Bob's sister Kim's house where that branch of the family had gathered. After visiting for a little while we all went out to lunch at a lovely old pub. I have never been able to remember the name of it but I think it was The Swan, or maybe The Goose. It has been so nice to be able to enjoy the first day of my visit without having to deal with jet lag

This is my first visit to Bristol and I am so impressed. It's a very cosmopolitan little city, lots to do, lots to see, but not in the least bit intimidating. I can see why B&J love it here so much. It seemed strange at first to be visiting them in another place other than Helensburgh, but I very quickly got over that.

Jenny took me on a drive around the city and then down to the City Centre area and the harbor. It's lovely down there. Years ago this was one of the busiest ports in Europe. John Cabot sailed from this harbor in 1497 on his voyage to North America and was a major slave trading port in the 1700's. It was also a popular embarkation point for emigrants going to the America's. Today, while it is still a functioning port, the docks in the City Centre area are definitely geared to the tourist trade.

Last night Jenny and I went downtown to Bristol's Old Vic, the oldest theatre in Britain by the way, and saw Love and Other Fairy Tales, a loose adaptation of Chaucer's Wife of Bath's Tale. It was beautifully acted and was full of sly English humor. I has inspired me to try to read The Canterbury Tales. Bob, who has read and enjoyed Chaucer is encouraging me to give it a go, but says that I need to find a recording so that I can hear the old English spoken, as well as a translation guide. Under all the rubble, is a wonderful story. (Says he)

Bristol Temple Mead Station

I love riding the trains and buses in this country. It gives me such a sense of freedom to know that if I decide that I want to visit some place on my own, Britain’s marvelous public transport system will allow me to do so. A lot of Britains that I have talked to don't realize how lucky they are to have it. That is because, in my opinion, they have never had to do without it. One of the first things I do when I arrive in Britain is to buy myself a Senior Rail Card that gives a 30% discount on all trains and many ferries. If you plan to do a lot of traveling in a specific amount of time, you can also purchase a British Rail Pass before you come. If you’re not a UK resident that is. But I never bother with that, I purchase a Senior Rail Card which gives a nice discount off the regular fare, and if possible, book ahead for an additional discount. I feel like I have more flexibility that way.

Today I went to Bath, as in the City of. The journey to Bath is almost as much fun as the visit to the city. Leaving Bob and Jenny's house I walked up the road about four blocks and then caught one of the red double decker buses you always see in the movies rumbling around London. Well they have them here in Bristol as well. It's about a 20 minute journey to the City Center where I transfer to another bus that drops me off at the door of the Bristol Temple Meade train station.

If you want to experience the flavor of Britain, there is not better place to do that than to ride the local buses and trains. One of my favorite things to do is to go up to the top deck, as the view from up there is completely different from the one you get riding on the lower one. I am constantly amazed at how much people over here drag onto the buses with them. A pretty young girl who reminds me very much of my Granddaughter Kristen got on the bus at the train station with a very large, soft suitcase stuffed so full it was about to burst its seams, a large paper shopping bag which did burst when she boarded, three gallons of paint in cans, a floor lamp and a plastic shopping bag with two paint rollers, a pan and several brushes in it. That's got to be a world’s record. What was really funny to me, no one except me looked on in amazement, and the young girl didn't seem all that harassed either.

While I was in Bath this time, the only touristy thing that I did was to ride the cream and green tour bus. I always do this in any city that visit here. It is the best value a tourist can get for their money. It doesn't seem to matter how many times I have visited the city before, because there is always get a different tour guide so I get their impressions of the city along with the memorized spiel.

But aside from that, I didn't visit a single other tourist attraction but instead explored all the little wynds and ways, poked around the shops and book stores, had lunch in a riverside café under the Pultney Bridge and tea in the Cadbury's shop. I also splurged and bought myself a lovely wool cape that called out to me from the window of a shop that specializes in woolen goods from Scotland.

Tomorrow we are traveling up to Scotland so my next journal will be from there. I plan to be there about two weeks.

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