Brighton, Summer 2003

July 22, 2003

Jeanette’s version

Against Jenny's good advice to stay home and rest up from the journey, Emily and I were anxious to get out and about so we decided to have a day out in Brighton. This was a four hour train journey each way but we thought it was worth it. Brighton has been a seaside resort for several hundred years. Emily thought that Brighton Pier was tacky but I think that sometimes tacky can be pretty wonderful - in a tacky kind of way of course. We especially liked the ornate kiosk advertising Orgasmatronic Massages.  

You should not even bother to go to Brighton unless you plan to tour the Brighton Pavilion. In 1783 George, then Prince of Wales began converting a simple farmhouse into a neo-classical villa known then as the Marine Pavilion. In 1811 when he became Prince Regent he hired John Nash to enlarge the building. Between 1815 and 1822 it was transformed into the present Pavilion. It is opulence personified and pretty much a testimony to how anyone can have really bad taste, even a king.  The Pavilion was sold to the town of Brighton by Victoria in 1850 but not before she stripped it of its furnishings.  The chandelier in the Banquet room was originally hung with precious and semi-precious stones and Victoria had them replaced with ordinary crystal. 

The first time I visited Brighton was in 1980 when we lived in Scotland and took a trip "down south" with Bob, Jenny and the girls. A short time before that visit an arsonist had set fire to the music room causing a great deal of damage to that room and smoke damage to many of the other rooms on the main floor. Tours were being given but you could not get the total effect of just how grand everything was because repairs were still being done. In 1995 we went back and for some reason lost in the mists of time Matthew took the tour, I did not. So this was my first time to see the Pavilion in all its total glory. It was definitely worth the 7.60 (pounds) that it cost for the two of us. We are both at convenient ages since I qualify for senior discounts and Emily for Student discounts. 

After leaving the Pavilion we wandered around in the area known as The Lanes which are narrow alleyways lined with all sorts of interesting shops and restaurants. Brighton is another one of those places you could spend a week in and never see everything you wanted to. Just strolling along the seafront promenade and sitting on a bench staring out to sea is a wonderful way to spend your time. But, we had a four hour journey home so we reluctantly made our way back to the train station.

The journey back was interesting. A couple of disgusting young men got on at Brighton and proceeded to get roaring drunk. I almost had a heart attack when one lit up a cigarette and Emily reached over, tapped him on the shoulder and told him to put it out. He put it out though and even apologized to her. I guess he was too surprised to do anything else. The train was late getting into Bath and we missed our connection but we improvised and made it back only about an hour past our expected time. 

Emily’s Side of the Story

We hopped on a train at Weston-Super-Mare at 6:57 in the morning...arrived in Bath at 7:41, then took a train to Brighton, the ride lasted until 11:15...it was a nice ride..Grams and I took naps, and then chatted a little about  about our lives. She told me that Grandpa used to say, "There are 3 kinds of people in this world, the people who make things happen, people who watch things happen, and then the ones who wonder what happened." I thought that it was quite fitting for what we were talking about, for we were talking about people who let others think for them. I absolutely love that saying...maybe just because it is so him..and I only knew him when he was very ill... don’t really know.. but I do know that I will begin to use that quote. Anyway on with today... 

We arrived in Brighton and the first thing we did was get on one of those sightseeing buses that you can ride over and over again...but we sat on the top where it was open...awesome it was. Gives you a whole new perspective on the town. 

We rode that for a while...then we got to The Royal Pavilion...it was HUGE...the city of Brighton bought it for 53,000 pounds...which in our money is like 170,000 dollars. That was way back when though...it was absolutely gorgeous. 

After that, we went to wait for the bus to the pier...as we were sitting there though...this kind of chubby woman went by on her bicycle...and well, we saw her thong...it was absolutely hilarious, and we were later informed that that is the style over here? Why on earth would you want anyone to see your knickers? Thats so grodie my-odie. Later when we got onto the Brighton Pier...we were walking through, and they have turned it into a sort of amusement park....you can ride rides, play the slots, and all other sorts of things..like a semi-state fair...to me it was displeasing...I think of a pier as a nice quite place where the only noise are the seagulls bothering you...not the sound of games...oh well...build it up for the tourism I suppose. Grams and I decided that we were going to take a rest on one of the nice benches...and across the way we see a little stand called "Massage Orgasmatron"...well now let’s see...how does that work again? he he...I got pictures...you will see them sooner or later if you care to...well NO not pictures of us getting one...pictures of the STAND :) Then we sat down for lunch...fish and chips, chips being french fries...actual CHIPS are called crisps. It was...different..I don’t eat fish but apparently it is very popular over here...so there you go. 

 After that, we looked for a places called Lanes..it is some rows of closely quartered shops...one that I went into was called FCUK...riiight I am sure that REALLY stands for French connection in the U.K. Uh huh and I am just some stupid broad...riiiight. Needless to say I didn’t buy anything there..I did however buy a rose pin thing...hard to explain but cute none the less. Grams and I also went to a bookstore and bought a book to read on the train back...so we didn’t get so bored.

Got lost on our way to the train station- more so to the bus stops...things are so confusing over here. I have also noticed that every guy has the Hugh Grant swagger down pat. It is quite amusing, they are either slouched shouldered or shoulders up to their stinking chin...great it is. Also, people don’t move when you say excuse me, and they don’t say excuse me...they just push you out of the way. Lovely people..:) he h

We finally arrived at Brighton Station...got on the train for a verrrryyy long ride back. Absolutely NO table seats...So I sat beside some stuffy woman who acted like if our arms touched she would get leprosy or something...ugh us Americans... I went to sleep on a tray about 6 inches wide and 8 inches long- quite comfy. The lady got off at a stop..and I spread out on my two seats..might have been impolite..but at least I wasn’t some "bloody american'" who was giving someone leprosy :) All in good fun do I write all of this. I awoke to some man arguing with his friend about that they will take your credit card away and leave you with all these fees...he was very loud...and obnoxious. I finally went back to sleep...then awoke to him talking loudly again..very annoying...then he got on the phone and was incessantly talking...started talking about sex..and every other word was F- this and F-that...very nasty. They(he and his friend) began calling some of their female friends and asking them to come out with them. and get laid..and if his mistress called, tell her that he was going down to somewhere and that’s all they knew. He also said for them to tell one of the male friends that he could have sex with his mistress just as long as he shut her up. It was very vulgar for about 2 hours.

Then the guy was so drunk he went into the train bathroom and threw up all over it...ugh..then they began smoking on a non smoking train..I nudged the not so obnoxious one and said "I don’t know if you even care but this is a non smoking train...that means, you< can’t> smoke on here." He smiled and said.."yes, I just realized that." Whatever.

We finally got off the horrible train..after we had missed our connecting one by about 25 min. We got off a Bristol Temple...waited for the train...went downstairs to the ladies room...another thing is that all of the woman’s bathrooms are downstairs..why is it that, I wonder? Anyway, we arrived back about 30 minutes ago...such a long but fun day...something I will never forget...chance of a life time.. but it still doesn’t feel like we are in a different country. Oh by the way, they sell gas over here by the litre..liter..whatever...so its like 4.40 a gallon! That’s crazy talk! Plus cartons of cigarettes are like 60 U.S. dollars...wowzers.. Drinking age is 18 and smoking age is 16.

Traveling - Summer 2003

July 20, 2003

On July 20, 2003 my seventeen year old granddaughter Emily and I embarked on a great adventure.  Five weeks spent in each other's company, day and night, through thick and thin, from literally one end of Britain to the other, with a short detour across the English Channel and North Sea to get a glimpse of Norway. Fortunately we also spent a great deal of time with our British family so that when we got the urge to kill each other there were too many people around to pull it off.

On July 24 we were joined by my dear friend Kathy, whom neither Emily nor I had ever met before.  Kathy lives in Irvine, California and we both belong to an on-line reading group.  So this is the story of how a sixty-eight-year -old woman and her seventeen- year-old granddaughter from Arkansas and a lovely lady from Southern California happily traveled through as much of the U.K. as we possibly could, seeing the sights, having a wonderful time, and sampling just about every form of transportation that is  available, most of the time dragging way too much luggage along with us. It was a magic trip and we had a wonderful time

Emily and I left Little Rock at 3:30 p.m. on July 20 aboard an American Airlines EMBRAER RJ140 JET.  I put that in here because I wanted to state that it has to be the most miserably uncomfortable aircraft flying today.  Fortunately it's only an hour long flight from Little Rock to Dallas/Fort Worth, where we connected to a spacious and comfortable American Airlines Boeing 777 for the nine hour flight to Gatwick.   International airline traveling has obviously been drastically effected by the events of the past couple of years as both going over and coming back the plane was less than half full.  This worked out in our favor because there were enough empty seats that we were able to stretch out and sleep for four or five hours.  As a result I was in much better spirits when we arrived than I usually am after flying all night. 

One of my suitcases failed to arrive. This is the third time this has happened to me. Finally I am getting smart enough to pack a change of clothes in my carry- on case, I firmly believe that one can weather any crisis as long as you have a tooth brush and clean underwear. After doing all the necessary paperwork to get the suitcase delivered, we linked up with the Bob and Jenny and walked outside into the cool, fresh, breezy air. I cannot tell you how wonderful it felt after leaving Arkansas where the temperature was over 100 degrees.

Before we left my travel agent suggested to me that since we planned to do a lot of traveling the most economical way to do it was to buy a British Rail Flexipass. I am so glad that I listened to her because it gave us an unbelievable amount of flexibility and most of the time we traveled in the comfort of First Class carriages.

The down side to traveling First Class on British Rail is that the carriages tend to be at either the front or back of the train and when trains pull into the station they always stop so that the center of the train is just about at mid point of the platform.  If the train is very long, or if you are dragging a lot of luggage along behind you this can be a little inconvenient.   Or at least it is to an old woman with bad knees.  Also, not all trains have first class carriages. The lines that service the smaller towns and villages are usually just one or two railway carriages long and none too well maintained either. In Scotland it was definitely hit and miss, even between the larger towns.  But this is more of an observation rather than a complaint.  Taking the trips as they came was a great deal of the whole adventure. 

While in London we learned how to get around on the Underground system and by the time we made our third visit there we had started to feel completely comfortable on it.  Well, as comfortable as you can be on a crowded railway carriage that is hurtling through the dark. We soon learned to stay to the right on the escalators so that the folks who were in a hurry could dash past.  There is an unseen, very bossy person who gives loud warnings to "Mind the Gap" when you are boarding the train and informs you "Step Back!" in the lifts when the door is closing or fixing to open.

Since our budgets were limited, so were our experiences with the London Taxis.  We only rode them to and from the railway station on our first visit because we were dragging that mountain of luggage that I spoke about earlier, and when Emily and I went out one evening to see Mama Mia. The double decker tour bus turned out to be great value and I saw more of London this time than I ever have in the past.  We felt like seventeen pounds was rather pricey, but we all felt like we had gotten our money’s worth as the tickets were good  for unlimited travel in a 24 hour period. Several inter-city buses, a tour boat down Loch Ness, and a large ferry to Norway completed our sampling of the various forms of transportation we utilized to complete our odyssey. 

Emily's also kept a journal on this trip and I have included her version of our adventures.  I enjoy her perspective and she has graciously given me permission to include her entries along with mine.

Emily’s Side of the Story

On the plane they have TVs on the back of EVERY seat. I am watching "How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days," I have now watched this movie 3 times in the last day. Matthew McConahey is the MAN. I absolutely love this movie. It is soo funny. Grams is asleep...I can smell food being cooked, or heated up in the least. I have taken Dramamine and I suspect that I will be out as soon as I eat my food. Man, I just ate...wowzers...I had chicken and pasta, salad, a roll, ginger ale, and coconut pie...it was awesome. I am like..still wowed.. Anyway.... The plane is awesome..I don’t know if any of you readers have ever been on an international flight...but..wow..Grams and I have 5 seats to ourselves, I am on one end and she on the other...3 in between. Grams is sacking out again.

Bathroom is huge...well, if you could call it that...but anyway..it has a camper bathroom smell though. I miss "old flame"...I don’t know if he has tried to call...I know that I called him a few times and left him messages, but you can’t use your cellphone on the plane. Plus, even if you could...there isn't any service. I miss him....a lot.

Ha-ha the dog on this movie, is awesome. A Chinese Crested. The whole movie is worth it when you see the dog- plus when he pees on the pool table. We are right around the Chicago area...I can watch our progression on a screen..never mind now we are right outside of Detroit. Our estimated arrival time in London is 9:50 AM... we are 37000 feet in the air..-52 degrees fahrenheit outside. Pretty cold...it is 1016 here..316 there. 5 hours ahead there..6 hours ahead from Arkansas.3333

Cheddar Gorge - Atumn 2001

Cheddar Gorge

On Friday afternoon Bob and Jenny drove over after they got off from work and we all drove to Cheddar Gorge.  The drive from Shepton Mallet to Cheddar ran along the edge of the beautiful Mendip Hills.  The Mendips as they are called locally are so....so ENGLISH.  One of these days I want to visit Wookey Hole simply because I like the sound of the name.  With luck I think I will be able to manage that since it is not too far away from Bob and Jenny's home.  Along the way we also passed large lorries’ that looked just like dump trucks to me filled with apples.  This is cider making country along with cheese making.

While researching on the internet for facts about Cheddar gorge I read somewhere that "it is the Grand Canyon of Britain." That is one of the silliest statements I have ever read and shows beyond doubt that the writer had never even seen a picture of the Grand Canyon, much less visited there.  Cheddar Gorge is a unique and wonderful place and doesn't need to be compared with any other place in order to promote its self. I would say that it's an ancient place, but heck, everyplace on this planet is ancient, some are just more recently inhabited than others.  The area in and around Cheddar show signs of being inhabited for a long, long time.  Recent archaeological finds show that the area  has been occupied by man for 100,000 years.  The high cliffs that make up the gorge are dotted with caves in which evidence has been discovered that prehistoric and bronze age peoples once occupied them. A large building (possibly a villa) stood somewhere near the site of Cheddar church in Roman times, while many other Roman farms have been found in other parts of the parish, revealed by the spreads of pottery left after the ploughing of their long-abandoned sites. Other Roman finds in the village imply that Cheddar may have been a small settlement even this long ago, and Alfred The Great had a royal manor here. 


Alfred is, in my opinion the greatest king that Britain ever had, and the only English king ever to have "The Great" tacked onto the end of his name.  It amazes me that he is so little known and appreciated by present day Britains.  If asked about him, most people here will get a puzzled look on their faces and say "Oh, right, he's the fellow that burned the cakes, isn't he?"  That "fellow" single handedly yanked Britain out of the dark ages, defeated the Danes against all odds and by doing so created a national identity that survived in spite of the best efforts of William in 1066, and all he is remembered for is burning some stupid cake.  That's sad.  But my appreciation of the gorge was greatly enhanced by using my imagination to picture him and his band of Thanes riding through the area.

On the way into the village of Cheddar we stopped at several places where space had been made for just that purpose.  I want to say overlooks, but since that is obviously not the case I wonder if you could call them up looks?  At any rate Ann pointed out a small mini gorge in the side of one cliff with a large cleft rock.  She said that the story goes that the person who wrote Rock of Ages was hiking through this area and took among these rocks from a sudden rain storm and was inspired to by that stone to write the hymn.

The village of Cheddar is nestled down in the bottom of the gorge and from what I saw had no side streets.  There may have been some further down from where we stopped.  This is strip shopping if I ever saw it.  We started at the beginning of the village and started down the street to be bottom of a gradual incline where there was a junction of three roads with a large and ancient market cross in the middle. There were lots of gift shops, tat shops and shops that sold a wide variety of, what else, cheese.  They also had lots of locally made chutney and jams.  If I lived anywhere within striking distance of this place, I would spend a lot of money here.  Somehow we managed to misplace Ann and after about 20 minutes she caught up with us.  It seems she had spied a jewelry shop and on impulse went in and checked out the silver chains.  They had just what I had been looking for. Since we had gotten a late start it was beginning to get dark on us so Bob walked back up the hill to the car and then picked us up down at the bottom. <

The next morning we drove to Heathrow Airport where I discovered that my flights had been changed without my knowing it.  I was not going to be able to make my connection in Chicago. After much haggling the airline paid for me to stay overnight in a hotel and gave me my choice of whether I wanted to stay in London or Chicago.  I opted for Chicago which in retrospect was a bad choice.  Just hours before our plane landed is when they had someone get through security with some knives in his possession and security was absolutely wigging out.  But after a somewhat restless night I boarded a plane the next morning for St. Louis where I changed for one to Little Rock.  I was sad to leave but also glad to be home.  

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

 

Salisbury - Summer 2001

Tuesday I took my one and only guided tour, which covered all of the above. It left from Bath at 10 a.m. and returned at 6:30 p.m., which made for a long day for me since I left the house at 7:30 a.m. to catch a bus to the train station. The tour was in a minibus, which held twelve passengers, but there were only ten of us. Amazingly one of the couples was from Little Rock. A small world, huh I am seriously considering affecting an English accent for the word Bath. I just love the way they say it here. All drawled out..Baaaaaaaaaath. So elegant.

The first stop was a small village in the Cotswolds called Castle Combe. The population was something like 250 people and most of the houses had been built in the 15th and 16th centuries. I felt like I was on a movie set for Mrs. Miniver. I bought two postcards as back up if my pictures didn't turn out but this time my pictures are just fine so I am not bothering to scan them.

The next stop was Avebury, the largest and I think the oldest stone circle in Britain. It predates Stonehenge. We walked all around it and while I certainly enjoyed it, didn't get the same kind of feeling I got from Stonehenge. I think it was because it was so spread out and also it was freezing cold, damp and windy.

On the way to Stonehenge we passed several of those chalk horses carved out of the hillsides. But according to the guide they were done in the late 1800's. At first I thought that he meant 1800 AD, but on thinking about it I'm not entirely sure. He was throwing around dates both AD and BC. I will have to do a search on them on the Internet and see when they were done. I know for sure that there is one that is prehistoric but I don't think that one was in the same area as these are. While these were very interesting, it's the pr-historic one I particularly want to see.

The weather only got worse when we got to Stonehenge but I just couldn't see myself being at such a marvelous place and cowering in the bus. Only one person on the tour whimped out while the rest of us piled out into the wind and rain, paid our 3 pound fifty, grabbed up one of those hand held recorded guides and trudged through the tunnel under the road and took the walk around the stones. Very impressive in any kind of weather. It's a magical place but the magic is hard to describe. It's just there. So wet, hungry, shivering and happy I bought a ham sandwich and a cup of luke warm tea from the canteen (this was the lunch stop!) and crawled back in the mini van a satisfied person.

But the highlight of the tour, at least for me was yet to come. Salisbury Cathedral. The tour guide wasn't all that enthusiastic about this Cathedral. He told us that while the exterior was, in his opinion the finest in England, he felt that the interior didn't hold a candle to the cathedral in Wells. I personally thought he was wrong.

It was certainly different from the Wells Cathedral, but just as good in it's own way. I am really impressed by these massive, ornate 12th century cathedrals. I feel such a sense of history when I stand inside them. I think of all the masses of people who have worshiped in them and then when I walk around and read all the inscriptions on the tombs it really gives me a sense of the past. All those folks who have walked on these same stones before me.

Outside Salisbury Cathedral in the Cathedral Close I tried to imagine all the wonderful characters from Susan Howatch's Starbridge Series bustling around going about their fictional lives. I looked up at the roof and tried to picture Nick, Christian, Venetia and the rest dancing naked on the roof and couldn't quite bring it up. Maybe I was looking from the wrong angle. And inside I tried to picture Neville, Charles and Lewis. It was wonderful to see the place that the novels were based on.

The tour guide on the Salisbury tour also said that in his opinion Britain's Cathedrals were the finest things they owned. I will have to say that after thinking about it, I tend to agree with him. I love the Castles, and Hadrian's Wall is right up in the running, but the Cathedrals are truly something to behold. The first one that I ever saw was York Minster back in 1979 before the fire and then again in 1995 after most of it had been restored and I thought both times that it was probably the most beautiful Cathedral in the world. I have since changed my mind. It's now a toss up between Wells and Exeter.

But one thing really has disturbed me, and it's the way some of them have in my opinion, ceased to be places of worship and have become businesses. I realize that the cost of maintaining them must be mind-boggling and I fully understand and support putting up a donation box asking visitors to help toward maintaining them. They are truly a national treasure. What does bother me is that several of them have gone to what I consider way too far. Salisbury Cathedral is the worst I have seen for trying to cash in on fund raising.

On entering the Cathedral the first thing you see is a turnstile with a person selling tickets thinly disguised as "donations.” Off to the right is a large gift shop, selling all sorts of what Jenny calls tat. Not just postcards and books on the history of the cathedral but tatty stuff, key chains, refrigerator magnets, tee shirts, carrier bags, etc. Through a door in the back is a full service restaurant! I am not a strongly religious person, but in my own way I am religious and I found all that commerce offensive. As I stood there in the middle of the entryway, looking at the turnstile I had a sudden visual of the scene from Jesus Christ Superstar where Jesus throws all the moneychangers out of the temple.

OK, that's my rant. I just needed to vent. I exempt Exeter and Wells Cathedrals from that rant. While both of them had small shops where you could buy postcards and books telling the history of the church, they didn't sell tat, burgers and chips or have turnstiles.

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>