Doolin to the end.
Our journey to Doolin took a couple of detours. We stopped to have lunch and somehow, because we were in a hurry to get to the Burren left Kathy's chair and a gift behind at the pub. We got about 20 miles down the road, before it hit me that we had not loaded her chair! Finding a place to turn around is not as easy as it might seem in Ireland. Like England the roads are narrow and there are no shoulders, often the roads don't afford a good place to turn around either....but we did get back (faster than we had traveled the same road leaving, and found Kathy's chair AND the gift sitting waiting --- I had visions of it all being stolen, but GOD IS GOOD! All the time. When I walked in there it sat right where Kathy said she left it, completely undisturbed.
We drove up to the Burren not knowing what to expect. I imagine this would be a geologists or botanists or even a paleontologists dream vacation. The rock simply protrudes from the earth and between stones there are small plants growing. Scrubby plants that must be quite determined live here. We turned of the secondary road onto the Burren Way - a road that really looks more like a bike path or a place for walkers. Our car was initially followed by a car filled with teenage boys. I pulled over to let them pass, but they stopped. Then when I pulled onto the path again, they started driving as well. It was really the only apprehensive moment I had during the whole of the trip. Eventually, though they took a different path and we were left utterly alone on this barren landscape. On one side you could look down to the sea and on the other rose up the huge mound of stone! It was shaped by glaciers so it had not a sign of craggy outcropping, and the color was a pale color looking very much like sand from the distance. Scotland and Ireland both seemed countries shaped by turbulent pasts both geologically and in terms of human conflict as well.
Several times we met others coming from the opposite direction on the path. It was always a challenge to find a place where one of us could creep over enough to let the other pass. Some of these folk lived on the Burren, though it is a puzzle to me how someone could farm or ranch on top of the rock! Still there were homes along the way. You would have to be willing to live an isolated life out here, but then how different was that from living out on the plains of West Texas. We finally reached civilization again in mid afternoon and Kathy took the wheel for the rest of the drive in to Doolin. It was pleasant to look out the window for a change, and she was pretty confident that she was familiar enough with the area that she could find Doolin. There were plenty of ruins from the medieval times just off the roadway, old church yards as well as castles and keeps, and we arrived in Doolin around 4:30. We stayed at the Toomullin House just up from two of the village’s pubs, McGanns and McDermotts. We carried everything in and repacked, making careful account of all the gifts we were bringing home for U.S. Customs. Once that was done, around 7:00 or so we headed out.
We drove up to an old ruined church built probably around 1100 or so. The most interesting thing here was the churchyard. Not only was it all around the church but it was also inside the church. Not that people were buried in the floor of the church like the minsters or cathedrals, but there were actual graves with markers inside the church building. I asked one of the locals about this practice which seemed odd to me. He explained that the church had long since been a ruin and that the ground there was consecrated and therefore needed to be used. Interestingly people had been buried in that churchyard as recently as 2008! Some of these new markers look so completely out of place amongst those that are covered with likens and aged so that no trace of writing is left.
After we visited another ancient site we headed in for a pub. Our host suggested that we arrive at 7:30 in order to secure a place to sit and eat and then to listen to the music. We tried one pub, but found it already full so we headed on to McGann's. Pub is short for public house, so in Ireland and Britain these places are just that; the places where people gather. For my last night I had fish and chips with mash (that would be green peas). Kathy had the Irish stew which looked equally good. We sat on a bench on one side of the table and the people seated on the other side were complete strangers. This is another unusual ting that happens over here. If there are seats at your table, people feel free to sit and eat with you. A young German couple joined us. The woman was in her last year of preparing to teach at a hauptschule and her husband was in his first year in Industrial Psychology working with companies to help build team work. They are obviously very much in love and shared their dreams readily with us. We discussed many things, but these young people are obviously willing to work to make the world a better place. Among the things we shared were the shame the German people have felt collectively over World War II. We talked about how every country has things of equal shame. For us in the U.S. it is slavery perhaps. But we agreed that it was important to acknowledge guilt and to remind the world that the darkness of heart which brought about Hitler or slavery are within the realm of possibility for every nation. It was very affirming to share this moment with them.
The music began, but as the night wore on, the local people got louder and louder. A table behind us was playing cards and they especially were quite noisy. We decided to migrate to McDermott's. What was nicest about this for me was that they had a parking lot, and I didn't have to parallel part or park miles away! While we were in the first pub a storm had moved in and the rain had made a large puddle for Kathy to navigate as I pulled partially out onto the street from my crowning achievement (a parole parked car up against a stone wall without any scratches on the car!
McDermott's had a local group --- the girl on the fiddle was really quite good, the lad on the Irish drum also, but the guitarist was a bit weak....still they were quite enjoyable and for about 30 minutes all was well, but then the crowd that had been so loud at McGann's began arriving at McDermott's and it was the same story......so we headed out into the rain at around mid-night and crawled into bed. As Dickens would say, "I fell asleep upon the Instant."
The daylight spilling into the room awakened me at about 6:30, and we were up and out before anyone in the house was awake. The drive to Shannon was sunny and we met only a few cars for it was Sunday morning after all. I had passed a stone house---all caved in at least 3 times in the past 2 days....I remember the first time I saw it I thought it ironic--- for it has a big for sale sign with SOLD pasted over it. While I am sure it means the property was for sale --- it gives the impression that someone bought the stone ruin.....so I jumped out of the car and photographed it---
The airport in Shannon is smaller than Nashville -- very easy to navigate so we stopped for a bit of breakfast at the hotel just across the way where Kathy and Bunny stayed when they first arrived. Then sorted ourselves out as they say here, put our trash in the bin, went through security and caught our flight home. That is the way things ended -- In the morning we were driving around Western Ireland solitary in stunning sun and by nightfall we were back in Baltimore doing laundry....ah....but as it is said, "Toto, there's no place like home."
Sunday, July 26, 2009
A sky -- filled up with clouds-- blue and white clouds, patches of blue, cauliflower clouds, gray-violet clouds, and a landscape that could only be found this side of heaven on the Emerald Isle. There is a peculiar atmospheric event here that I have never seen before. I don't know how to describe it clearly, but I'll try. I saw it and couldn't take my eyes from it. It was as though a single chunk of cloud in essence functions as a rainbow. It doesn't arch to the ground and it is not as intense as a rainbow,with its clearly defined bands of color, but it appears to be a diffuse rainbow! I have seen this twice now, and it is really quite remarkable.
Our day started with the sun. Yes, it was still there right where it should be, where it had been behind the clouds. I wasn't really cold once today! Cool, yes, but cold---NO. We took a taxi to the airport to pick up our car in Cork. The driver was like all Irish people we have encountered, very friendly and willing to share anything in conversation. It was a long trip so he asked a few questions which lead to the revelation that my great-grandfather and mother had come to America from Cork.
"Ah," he said. "Did they go through Ellis Island, then?" Well, that I cannot say, says I. "Well," says he, "lots of folks who went through Ellis Island got tagged as being from Cork because that was the departure point from Ireland to America." I smiled, and said, "Well, my family was actually from County Cork cause I grew up hearing about it from my Granddad." We were coming near the church I'd asked the cab driver about the night we arrived. Our driver said, "Did you get to see the Cathedral?" "Cathedral is it, then?" says I...."the cab driver last night didn't know that --- cause I asked him about this church as we passed it on the way to our hotel last night."
"Didn't know the Cathedral!?" says he, incredulous! "Well," Kathy came in to defend the cabbie from the night before, "In his defense, he was from Kenya." When we drove by I tried to see the name of the church, but there wasn't one out front like they usually have, and I said "I guess everyone here knows what church this is." I was just joking--but of course--it turned out to be true. "Well," said the cab driver, "You have to see the Cathedral." and he pulled in off the road to show us the ancient structure. The oldest part was begun in 622 when Christianity was brought to Cork." The fellow seemed quite knowledgeable and told us about how Cork had been a bit like Venice when the Christians first arrived. There were nine islands --- but eventually they were drained and the city of Cork is now standing in those ancient reservoirs!
We got to the airport a bit smarter than when we started --- thanks to a cab driver! We picked up our car and started for Dingle and the Peninsula. The drive was like nowhere we had been. the narrow roads were lined with hedges of flowers ---- orange and red mostly. The color of the Emerald Isle was not green --- it was a profusion of Naples yellow, grumbacher red straight out of the tube, alizerin crimson, and more shades of green than I could imagine! These flowers gave way occasionally to stone walls and vistas of white cottages with hillsides that looked as though someone had laid down a giant green crazy quilt over them. Some of the pieces were swiss-dotted with sheep, cows or donkeys.
As the road narrowed we got our first glimpse of the sea -- looking very much like someone had laid down a piece of iridescent taffeta next to the green of the quilt. Climbing and descending again we passed Inch a village with a beach to rival any we have seen and coves that were the purest turquoise and white with huge caves visible. When we reached the village of Dingle we stopped for lunch at the Marina Pub just across from the bay. I had mussels -- steamed in white wine, garlic, butter, shallots and cream....These were the best mussels I have ever had. They made the ones I had in San Francisco seem like dwarfs. They were huge and the meat was pink and succulent (with the occasional piece of sand in teeth). I asked the bar man where they came from, "The bay." he said, gesturing across the street in disbelief. Kathy had a shepherds pie that was of equal quality and we left for the rest of our journey well fortified.
I was completely unprepared for the beauty we were about to encounter. The sea and cliffs grew more dramatic, as did our road which grew narrower. There were occasional turn-outs at which we never failed to stop. The beauty was incredible! We were pelted with a shower now and again, but only momentarily and then the sun would re-emerge coloring part of the landscape with its warm golden rays as colds cooled the landscape next to the brightly lit patch. We drove around the entire stretch of land that jutted out into the sea. There were islands --- that truly looked like giants had hurled them there, and I could understand how the story of Fin M'Coul making the causeway might seem plausible to ancient people. The stones looked as though someone had intentionally split them for they cleaved neatly along planes. We passed stone cottages that were left abandoned during the great potato famine of the 1850s, and even more ancient dwellings that dated back to 2,000 BCE.
As we made our way in-land, we gained a bit of speed --- but there were very tight moments when you simply had to slow down or pull out to let trucks or other large equipment pass. We arrived in Kilarney at 5:30 and had no trouble finding our bed and breakfast. Kathy had stayed there twice before and found her way around the easily. Adlerhaven sits atop a hill at the edge of the city. A farm that is surrounded by trees it is quiet and the farmhouse is charming, but I think the real reason Kathy returns here is that the owner is a lovely woman who is very solicitous and the place itself is very comfortable and clean. She insisted on making us some tea while we made our plans for the evening and the next day's journey and ushered us into a bright and sunny room where we would have breakfast in the morning. After Kathy made made arrangements for our stay in Doolin. We headed back out for the city center for a look around and dinner..
I pulled in to a space to park just as another car pulled out --- only to discover that it was a loading zone...We didn't have coins for the "Pay & Display" booth, so I went into the restaurant in front of the space....to ask if I could get a wee bit of change. The owner said, he'd be glad to help...but then he walked out onto the street and went to check a sign. He came back and said, "I was hoping it said that you could park there after 6:00 p.m. -- but alas it says 8:00. One thing is for certain the Irish people are some of the most hospitable folks we have encountered. Not only did the man give us change (a real courtesy -- especially since we had not bought anything, but also he went outside to make sure we really needed the money to begin with!)
After we parked in a city lot at the end of the main street, we walked back along enjoying the day, the shops, and the sounds of people engaged in pleasant conversation.
We choose a pub/restaurant which turned out to be in one of the tourist guides as a great place to eat and it was! Back to the B&B and off to bed much earlier than the witching hour tonight.
Our day started with the sun. Yes, it was still there right where it should be, where it had been behind the clouds. I wasn't really cold once today! Cool, yes, but cold---NO. We took a taxi to the airport to pick up our car in Cork. The driver was like all Irish people we have encountered, very friendly and willing to share anything in conversation. It was a long trip so he asked a few questions which lead to the revelation that my great-grandfather and mother had come to America from Cork.
"Ah," he said. "Did they go through Ellis Island, then?" Well, that I cannot say, says I. "Well," says he, "lots of folks who went through Ellis Island got tagged as being from Cork because that was the departure point from Ireland to America." I smiled, and said, "Well, my family was actually from County Cork cause I grew up hearing about it from my Granddad." We were coming near the church I'd asked the cab driver about the night we arrived. Our driver said, "Did you get to see the Cathedral?" "Cathedral is it, then?" says I...."the cab driver last night didn't know that --- cause I asked him about this church as we passed it on the way to our hotel last night."
"Didn't know the Cathedral!?" says he, incredulous! "Well," Kathy came in to defend the cabbie from the night before, "In his defense, he was from Kenya." When we drove by I tried to see the name of the church, but there wasn't one out front like they usually have, and I said "I guess everyone here knows what church this is." I was just joking--but of course--it turned out to be true. "Well," said the cab driver, "You have to see the Cathedral." and he pulled in off the road to show us the ancient structure. The oldest part was begun in 622 when Christianity was brought to Cork." The fellow seemed quite knowledgeable and told us about how Cork had been a bit like Venice when the Christians first arrived. There were nine islands --- but eventually they were drained and the city of Cork is now standing in those ancient reservoirs!
We got to the airport a bit smarter than when we started --- thanks to a cab driver! We picked up our car and started for Dingle and the Peninsula. The drive was like nowhere we had been. the narrow roads were lined with hedges of flowers ---- orange and red mostly. The color of the Emerald Isle was not green --- it was a profusion of Naples yellow, grumbacher red straight out of the tube, alizerin crimson, and more shades of green than I could imagine! These flowers gave way occasionally to stone walls and vistas of white cottages with hillsides that looked as though someone had laid down a giant green crazy quilt over them. Some of the pieces were swiss-dotted with sheep, cows or donkeys.
As the road narrowed we got our first glimpse of the sea -- looking very much like someone had laid down a piece of iridescent taffeta next to the green of the quilt. Climbing and descending again we passed Inch a village with a beach to rival any we have seen and coves that were the purest turquoise and white with huge caves visible. When we reached the village of Dingle we stopped for lunch at the Marina Pub just across from the bay. I had mussels -- steamed in white wine, garlic, butter, shallots and cream....These were the best mussels I have ever had. They made the ones I had in San Francisco seem like dwarfs. They were huge and the meat was pink and succulent (with the occasional piece of sand in teeth). I asked the bar man where they came from, "The bay." he said, gesturing across the street in disbelief. Kathy had a shepherds pie that was of equal quality and we left for the rest of our journey well fortified.
I was completely unprepared for the beauty we were about to encounter. The sea and cliffs grew more dramatic, as did our road which grew narrower. There were occasional turn-outs at which we never failed to stop. The beauty was incredible! We were pelted with a shower now and again, but only momentarily and then the sun would re-emerge coloring part of the landscape with its warm golden rays as colds cooled the landscape next to the brightly lit patch. We drove around the entire stretch of land that jutted out into the sea. There were islands --- that truly looked like giants had hurled them there, and I could understand how the story of Fin M'Coul making the causeway might seem plausible to ancient people. The stones looked as though someone had intentionally split them for they cleaved neatly along planes. We passed stone cottages that were left abandoned during the great potato famine of the 1850s, and even more ancient dwellings that dated back to 2,000 BCE.
As we made our way in-land, we gained a bit of speed --- but there were very tight moments when you simply had to slow down or pull out to let trucks or other large equipment pass. We arrived in Kilarney at 5:30 and had no trouble finding our bed and breakfast. Kathy had stayed there twice before and found her way around the easily. Adlerhaven sits atop a hill at the edge of the city. A farm that is surrounded by trees it is quiet and the farmhouse is charming, but I think the real reason Kathy returns here is that the owner is a lovely woman who is very solicitous and the place itself is very comfortable and clean. She insisted on making us some tea while we made our plans for the evening and the next day's journey and ushered us into a bright and sunny room where we would have breakfast in the morning. After Kathy made made arrangements for our stay in Doolin. We headed back out for the city center for a look around and dinner..
I pulled in to a space to park just as another car pulled out --- only to discover that it was a loading zone...We didn't have coins for the "Pay & Display" booth, so I went into the restaurant in front of the space....to ask if I could get a wee bit of change. The owner said, he'd be glad to help...but then he walked out onto the street and went to check a sign. He came back and said, "I was hoping it said that you could park there after 6:00 p.m. -- but alas it says 8:00. One thing is for certain the Irish people are some of the most hospitable folks we have encountered. Not only did the man give us change (a real courtesy -- especially since we had not bought anything, but also he went outside to make sure we really needed the money to begin with!)
After we parked in a city lot at the end of the main street, we walked back along enjoying the day, the shops, and the sounds of people engaged in pleasant conversation.
We choose a pub/restaurant which turned out to be in one of the tourist guides as a great place to eat and it was! Back to the B&B and off to bed much earlier than the witching hour tonight.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Things happen in threes
The journey from Edinburgh began at 6:15 at the train station near our hotel. It was too early for there to be kitchen staff --- so we had "breakfast to go" fruit and a scone in a bag with coffee in a "take-away" cup.
Things seemed to be going well when we were met at the station to be assisted to the platform --- we were taken to a new lift.
(1)Unfortunately the new lift didn't work.....and they brought a really ingenious machine out. Its propulsion looked a bit like that on a tank, and it walked up the two flights of steps to the first platform. We then ran (because by now it was almost time for the train to leave) We just barely got on the train in time... whew ---
(2)We were to change trains in Crewe --- that was one of those stops where the train goes on --- so you have to get off quickly.....The young man who helped us in Edinburgh had put Kathy's chair in one of the other cars --- he said we would be met in Crewe --- which we believed because Kathy had made these arrangements the day before! BUT when we got to Crewe -- it was toss bags to platform time -- no one in sight. Our bags had been buried under tons of other bags which I had to excavate before I could toss them....and then there was the matter of where her chair was!!! I yelled at a train attendant for help (I could see the train leaving with her chair on it!!) He headed off to find a chair --- when he started toward the building --- I yelled NO --- IT IS ON THIS TRAIN SOMEWHERE -- he finally understood --- and we got the chair off just moments before the train pulled out of the station.
(3) When we arrived at Hollyhead to catch the ferry to Ireland, Kathy stopped to check her tickets at the counter and was told the ferry left at 1:50 p.m. It was just then about 1:00 so we went to the little cafe to grab a sandwich --- at about 1:40 Kathy asked me to check on where the queue was for the Ferry --- I asked the same young woman where we were to line up....and she blithely informed me that we had missed the ferry!
I dashed back got Kathy --- and she asked the girl why no one told us to line up earlier --- (after all this same girl said 1:50 --- and we were early by our standards) The young woman looked at her incredulous --- why didn't you ask? We didn't know to ask was the simple answer....I guess most people ride the ferry frequently and know these things --- but we certainly didn't...
All was not lost --- there was a second ferry company --- and their ferry was leaving --- shortly --- if we hurried we could catch it and hurry we did. We made it by the skin of our teeth ---- and settled in for the trip across the Irish sea. It was intermittently sunny, cloudy, misty, and mostly calm (well relatively). There was a cinema on board the ferry, and duty free shops, and game rooms and lounges and lot of noise! Noise from children running to and fro and people laughing and talking. In Britain public places are quiet --- trains are hushed --- but this was not quite at all! I continued reading the murder mystery that Kathy finished last week, Elizabeth George --- set in Cornwall...and Kathy had picked up a historical fiction -- having just finished a couple of Cotswold mysteries.
The rest of the trip was uneventful --- we caught a cab to the train in Dublin, and that trip had no train changes --- The Irish countryside so far is very beautiful ---- hedgerows dividing fields, cottages, sheep, oats and other crops that seem to be doing very well in this wet year. The temperature is pretty cool and I notice that even local people are wearing layered sweaters or light coats.....so I am not crazy!!!! It is cold.
We were reduced to eating dinner on the train --- which meant that we had sandwiches again---- this time --- chicken pannini -- (chicken and stuffing between bread --- argh.......what I wouldn't give for a McDonalds salad!!!!!!
We had to catch a cab to our hotel the juries --- which is very lovely --- and I actually have FREE INTERNET!!!! but again....I have heard bad things about Internet connectivity in Ireland --- so we will see when we head out tomorrow for Killarny.......
Kathy was kind enough to schedule us in Cork --- because my great-grandparents came from this county.....wish I had time to visit a library and do a bit of research....The family name was Grum and the story goes that a curse was put on the family that all the male children of my Great grandfather would die violent deaths.....and many of them did.....Deep in conversation with the woman next to me on the train ---- I was--- telling this tale--I was --- and her hanging on every word and telling about her granny who used to put curses on folk and they came true!!!! It think I am in IRELAND --- the land of stories and magic....
It is an early day tomorrow --- so this may be my last post until I get to Shannon on Saturday.....We shall see.
Things seemed to be going well when we were met at the station to be assisted to the platform --- we were taken to a new lift.
(1)Unfortunately the new lift didn't work.....and they brought a really ingenious machine out. Its propulsion looked a bit like that on a tank, and it walked up the two flights of steps to the first platform. We then ran (because by now it was almost time for the train to leave) We just barely got on the train in time... whew ---
(2)We were to change trains in Crewe --- that was one of those stops where the train goes on --- so you have to get off quickly.....The young man who helped us in Edinburgh had put Kathy's chair in one of the other cars --- he said we would be met in Crewe --- which we believed because Kathy had made these arrangements the day before! BUT when we got to Crewe -- it was toss bags to platform time -- no one in sight. Our bags had been buried under tons of other bags which I had to excavate before I could toss them....and then there was the matter of where her chair was!!! I yelled at a train attendant for help (I could see the train leaving with her chair on it!!) He headed off to find a chair --- when he started toward the building --- I yelled NO --- IT IS ON THIS TRAIN SOMEWHERE -- he finally understood --- and we got the chair off just moments before the train pulled out of the station.
(3) When we arrived at Hollyhead to catch the ferry to Ireland, Kathy stopped to check her tickets at the counter and was told the ferry left at 1:50 p.m. It was just then about 1:00 so we went to the little cafe to grab a sandwich --- at about 1:40 Kathy asked me to check on where the queue was for the Ferry --- I asked the same young woman where we were to line up....and she blithely informed me that we had missed the ferry!
I dashed back got Kathy --- and she asked the girl why no one told us to line up earlier --- (after all this same girl said 1:50 --- and we were early by our standards) The young woman looked at her incredulous --- why didn't you ask? We didn't know to ask was the simple answer....I guess most people ride the ferry frequently and know these things --- but we certainly didn't...
All was not lost --- there was a second ferry company --- and their ferry was leaving --- shortly --- if we hurried we could catch it and hurry we did. We made it by the skin of our teeth ---- and settled in for the trip across the Irish sea. It was intermittently sunny, cloudy, misty, and mostly calm (well relatively). There was a cinema on board the ferry, and duty free shops, and game rooms and lounges and lot of noise! Noise from children running to and fro and people laughing and talking. In Britain public places are quiet --- trains are hushed --- but this was not quite at all! I continued reading the murder mystery that Kathy finished last week, Elizabeth George --- set in Cornwall...and Kathy had picked up a historical fiction -- having just finished a couple of Cotswold mysteries.
The rest of the trip was uneventful --- we caught a cab to the train in Dublin, and that trip had no train changes --- The Irish countryside so far is very beautiful ---- hedgerows dividing fields, cottages, sheep, oats and other crops that seem to be doing very well in this wet year. The temperature is pretty cool and I notice that even local people are wearing layered sweaters or light coats.....so I am not crazy!!!! It is cold.
We were reduced to eating dinner on the train --- which meant that we had sandwiches again---- this time --- chicken pannini -- (chicken and stuffing between bread --- argh.......what I wouldn't give for a McDonalds salad!!!!!!
We had to catch a cab to our hotel the juries --- which is very lovely --- and I actually have FREE INTERNET!!!! but again....I have heard bad things about Internet connectivity in Ireland --- so we will see when we head out tomorrow for Killarny.......
Kathy was kind enough to schedule us in Cork --- because my great-grandparents came from this county.....wish I had time to visit a library and do a bit of research....The family name was Grum and the story goes that a curse was put on the family that all the male children of my Great grandfather would die violent deaths.....and many of them did.....Deep in conversation with the woman next to me on the train ---- I was--- telling this tale--I was --- and her hanging on every word and telling about her granny who used to put curses on folk and they came true!!!! It think I am in IRELAND --- the land of stories and magic....
It is an early day tomorrow --- so this may be my last post until I get to Shannon on Saturday.....We shall see.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
The trip to Edinburgh was pleasant enough and speedy......until we got about 50 miles from the city and started to look for a place to spend the night! We found several places in the shadow of a large nuclear plant --- Seeing nuclear plant towers was a bit unnerving so we drove on. The problem was that in a strange country you have no idea where to find the streets on which lodging is likely to be found. We found several places with rooms upstairs and no lift, one really elegant place in an old Inn that was too expensive, and finally we found a Premier Inn -- this is a little like a Days Inn and it was next to a restaurant that resembled Denney's or IHOP with a pub attached. The accommodations were clean and comfortable, but best of all there was a young woman working the desk who made the whole experience good.We were desperate for a laundromat -- but these are hard to find in the UK as well.
The kind young woman at the desk offered to let me use the Hotel's laundry facilities. "I don't know how to use the machines," She said, "I live at home and my Mum still does my laundry." I said, I was confident that together we could surmount the differences in equipment from the U.S. to the U.K. If she was willing, so was I. We figured it out together and our clothes were once again clean and dry! The young woman had completed two years of her college and was hoping to use her education to work with poor children in the city through police departments. She'd been involved in a program to help them enjoy fruits and vegetables -- to encourage eating properly. Reading was another thing they worked to get the children interested in. Her passion and excitement showed as she talked about the children she'd been working with. She works in a volunteer position during the summer, earns money for school at the Inn and lives at home so she can afford to work toward her goal. I learned all this as I sat reading and waiting for the cycles to run through in the laundry. Our clothes were better off at the hotel laundry than if we had found a laundrette. The laundry in Nice was very hard on clothes since you could not control the dryer at all....here I could set the dryer for cool temperatures for Kathy's clothes and high for our jeans and cottons! I also was able to have Internet access for the fist time in days and got caught up on my email and my posts about our whereabouts. Only a few places have provided access for free with accommodation --- usual cost is 10 pounds for 24 hours.
In the morning we began our drive into Edinburgh at 8:00 a.m. and had the car returned by 9:30 --- no scratches!!!!! We climbed in a cab and were delivered to our hotel (Jurys Inn) on the Royal Mile just across from the train station. After we got checked in at 11:00 we started to explore.
Our first stop was John Knox House, a great little museum and very nicely done it is not so busy and it therefore feels a bit like it might have when he was present there. It is also be coincidence the storytelling center--- and interesting combination. From one of the windows you can see the Cathedral where he preached! The house is the oldest remaining original construction for which history exists.. it was left mostly untouched because of its association with Knox! The spiral stone staircase leading up three flights is a wonder in itself. How these folks managed to do these stairs with ease and grace without breaking their necks is a puzzle in itself. There is a book shop here where you can buy books about Knox or storytelling....and performances by storytellers occur daily.
We were hungry and a bit chilled so we stopped in for lunch at the Forsythe Tea Room. It is in a small Close and is perhaps 24 feet long and 8 feet across built as it is in the side of one of the buildings on the close. There are little archways all along the main road that lead into courtyards with names above the arch telling you which Close you are entering. In these little courtyards are homes and shops.
The tea shop was run by an older woman probably in her 60s who is obviously suffering with RA -- but her face is radiant with good cheer. I notice that there is a table with spiritual books on it next to the register. Directly behind the register is the area where she cooks whatever you prefer from the days menu. Looking down the corridor at the tables there are tea towels for sale, tea cozies, and other small items --- such as tea cups and mugs. The Scots, like the Irish seem to love potatoes. There are even shops that serve nothing but baked potatoes which have a multitude of stuffings!! So I ordered a potato, tea and lemon curd tart. Kathy had a bacon and egg sandwich with apricot tart....of of course we had TEA!! It was lovely. While we waited the postman came in and had a bite to eat and a bit to drink as he delivered her post....In the course of the conversation I brought up the spiritual books next to the register and she pulled out her devotional and we shared the days entry. It was a real blessing for me, since I left my Disciplines (the book I use for daily devotional in Denmark!) It is strange, but you can't find a Bible in the drawer in Europe the way you do in the U.S. This lovely lady, works hard, keeps a cheerful countenance, and offers springs of living tea to any who crosses her path. By the time we left the shop had filled up with people, and I wondered at her ability to deal with all the carrying and walking! I believe that this place is probably bathed in prayer by people who cross her path and realize her gift and her difficulty. I said a prayer as I left, and hope to remember her in prayer even on my return home.
The rain picked up and our walk down the steep path to the palace was very wet and a wee bit windy. Holyroodhouse Palace -- the residence of the Queen -- once a year ---- in June--- is part of the National Trust and still a functioning place for events of state significance. The street is called the Royal mile because it is bordered by royal residences! Edinburgh Castle is at the other end. Palaces are residences and Castles were intended to be fortifications for the protection of an area. We are just about half way between the two landmarks. Edinburgh is (at least in this part) very hilly. The walk to the Palace was steeply down hill, and on either side of this street are shops specializing in Scottish crafts, tartans, Celtic jewelry, cafes, pubs, other hotels, and something we do not have in America. The Cancer Society, the Heart Association, Oxfam, and the organization supporting animals (like our SPCA) all often have shops on the High street (this is usually the name of the street that runs through a village or town).
Holyroodhouse was the palace where Mary Queen of Scots had her apartments and those are especially interesting with her private alter in her room. Her room is in the oldest part of the palace which has walls that are at least 3 feet thick. The other state apartments are lovely, but nothing as opulent as those of Europe. There is a distinctly different flavor of opulence when you cross the channel. Even in London the style is heavier and darker. More like a hunting lodge in some respects. I felt this same sense in Neuschuanstein in Germany. Dark heavily carved wood everywhere and chandeliers made of antlers instead of Crystal. I do not even have a name to give it....Baroque and Roccoco don't seem to apply. Then as you go North style becomes more spare still. The ceilings in the palaces are white plaster leaves and flowers in relief with perhaps only one ceiling fresco in the entire building. Their was a lot of Oak paneling --- from which may have hung tapestries. Kathy used the same elevator as the Queen in the palace (seems she has been getting the royal treatment in the palaces everywhere!). The docents all wear the Stewart Tartan to honor the Stewart Kings of England --- and they are quite fond of the Queen --and "Queen Mum" who both were partial to Scotland --- spending the month of August at Balmoral. A portrait of the Queen Mum hangs over the fireplace in one of the rooms.
Across from the palace is the new Scottish Parliament building. Designed by a Spaniard, there is still a lot of controversy about it. Not only does it NOT fit into this landscape --- it really doesn't look like a building that fits into any earthly landscape. It is shaped in bits and pieces in unconventional shapes some of which do not look habitable. It has a cold stainless steel exterior with rods of wood that look like someone might have been designing a shelter in the woods lining the side. Not only did it run over the estimated cost of building, but it is apparently badly insulated (a very bad thing in a climate where I am chilled to the bone in mid-July, but the windows do not open --- something unheard of here! One of the locals told me that "Tony Blair made us build this." The rain continued to come down heavily or lightly, but it was consistent in one thing, it came down! I was wet to the bone and chilled as well. When we finally got back to the hotel, I curled up and read under a blanket for more than an hour before I felt warm enough to uncover my arms. We slept in on our second day in Edinburgh.
2nd day Edinburgh.
Kathy had to get the train tickets for Ireland (they got so wet on the cruise to St. Tropez that they stuck together) so she was off to the train station this morning and left me to finish my computer entry and explore a bit. I was to be back to the hotel by 3 p.m. so that we could head off to Edinburgh Castle and then out to dinner. We need to be back early tonight since the train leaves at 6:30 a.m. so that is an early day!! We will have to get a grab and go bag for breakfast.
I went back up the Close and discovered an old church which had been demolished and partially restored. It is a museum now featuring brass rubbings. Then I headed up to the Royal Mile. Just as it did yesterday, it rained intermittently. Today I was smart enough to wear the pink Royal Caribbean rain/windbreaker that I bought -- but even that didn't completely keep me dry. My jeans were wet well up my calves, my shoes were soaked as were my socks, and my neck and shoulders were wet from rain migrating in through the opening at my neck! It was not a warm rain, and I stopped into Starbucks just to get warmed up a bit. There were two managers standing near the door, and I asked one if they used the same coffee that I got in the U.S. The one fellow was quite concerned that it didn't taste like what I was used to and brought me a french press and a bag of beans that he thought would taste more like home.
I told him that was unnecessary and that I wasn't complaining --- just asking---but he insisted that I take this and enjoy a good cup of coffee tonight in my room. So now I have a lovely Starbucks coffee press.
I darted into another Scottish shop and finally found two scarves that were McIntyre clan scarves! Apparently only the top 40 tartans are common and if you have a more unusual family name -- it is difficult to find that tartan--so I bought them -- then and there! The young woman was a student and this was a family owned store -- so we struck up a conversation and had quite a good conversation. As in so many places she commented on the fact that Bush had not promoted a sense of multi-culturalism -- She expressed her hopes for President Obama. This has been a universal experience for us....thumbs up for Obama.
I walked on up the mile headed for the Cathedral, but as I came closer I discovered that it was blocked off. There was a funeral for a young fireman going on. He had been killed in the line of duty and there were hundreds of firefighters and policemen standing in the rain in their dress uniforms outside the old cathedral. Flowers were strewn on the entry and the service was being broadcast outside for everyone to hear. I listen for a while and realized that this was going to go on for some time yet, and that it would be difficult if not impossible to get in and back to the hotel to meet Kathy at 3:00 -- so I started down the cobblestone street with rivers of water cascading over my feet and water dripping from my hair into my eyes, making it difficult to see.
After a moment to put my feet up we left for Edinburgh Castle at the top of the Royal mile--the desk clerk told us that we could catch the bus to the top of the hill ---- which didn't exactly turn out to be true! Actually it did take us up the hill --- but nowhere near the castle.....the hill was too steep for me to push Kathy, so she had to walk using the wheel chair to steady her on the cobbles. When we actually got to the top we found that stands had been set up for the Edinburgh Tattoo. A tattoo is a military parade, and it seems like these are really popular here in the UK. I watched the Windsor Tattoo which is the one the Queen has participated in even.....and Prince Phillip just stopped competing at the age of 87 in an event --- these Brits seem to be a very tough lot indeed!
Ordinarily the landscape would be easily viewed from this spot --- but with the stands you could not see the city at all. Once at the castle, we found that there are lovely arrangements for people who are mobility challenged and after purchasing a ticket we were picked up in a car and carried to the top of the Castle. This makes the preparations for protection at Stirling Castle look like child's play. The oldest building in Edinburgh is part of the castle -- it is a chapel that was erected around 1120 and was thought to be a part of an early royal residence. The rest long since was destroyed and the rest of the castle dates to around 1500 and much of it was built during the reign of James VI.
Mary Queen of Scots hated having to stay in the castle --- because it was apparently cold and drafty, not nearly as nice as Holyroodhouse, but the fortification was sturdy indeed, and afforded a clear vision of anyone coming by sea would have been visible for miles! There is a war memorial on the castle grounds which was a church that was used as barracks and then converted into a war memorial at the conclusion of WWI. It is similar to the Vietnam memorial in that each regiment has a book in which its dead are named. This memorial now goes on as Scots are killed in Afghanistan. Some of the memorial bears the marks of the age -- looking very much art deco in style, but the whole of it is quite beautiful with stained glass windows depicting war in each season. A statue stands over the entrance with her sword broken in half -- indicating the belief at the time that this war would end all war!
At 5:30 we left the Castle and walked a short block DOWN (down is good) the Royal Mile to the Witchery. This restaurant was reviewed as one of the best in Edinburgh...and for me that was true. We both had the heirloom tomato salad with baby herbs, but I chose local Salmon (which sat on a bed of baby asparagus with sweet potato), and heather honey parfait with Angus strawberries. Kathy did not have such good luck. She had beef (which was probably made from one of those Highland cows that we saw on the isle of Skye because it was really tough!) She had Oat cakes with local cheddar, chutney and preserves for desert. The restaurant was in a building that had been continuously occupied for the past 4 centuries. It is called the Witchery because it was the site where so many witches were burned at the stake during the time of James VI! The interior is slightly below the street level so the windows are maybe at thigh height if you are walking down the street. The walls are elegantly carved dark oak and the ceiling is typical of that time with patterned painting and beam construction.
Our waiter untied the red ribbons on our napkins and placed them in our laps --- an indication that this was certainly not a pub! Each table had a brass candlestick with a lighted candle in addition to a couple of votives so the entire room was lit by candle light -- a beautiful touch indeed. Our meals were from a promotional which gave us three courses for 30 pounds! I didn't look at the prices on the menu for the other items since I probably would have fainted dead away!
As we sat waiting for our meal I could watch the legs of pedestrians and occasionally someone would sit down on the curb to eat something. Now and again people would notice the windows and lean over to peer in. Children were just the right size to watch. Some were dancing and jumping up and down in excitement and some were crying because their little legs had simply worn out! Suddenly the sun burst through the clouds -- not timidly but as if it wanted to retake the sky! When we left the restaurant it was sunny and bright, but windy and cool. We walked down the street to the hotel. Kathy does quite well using her feet to keep from running wild through the streets so I (for a change had to keep pace with her!).
Tomorrow we will arrive in Ireland rather late in Cork I think --- I don't know what kind of Internet access to expect....
The kind young woman at the desk offered to let me use the Hotel's laundry facilities. "I don't know how to use the machines," She said, "I live at home and my Mum still does my laundry." I said, I was confident that together we could surmount the differences in equipment from the U.S. to the U.K. If she was willing, so was I. We figured it out together and our clothes were once again clean and dry! The young woman had completed two years of her college and was hoping to use her education to work with poor children in the city through police departments. She'd been involved in a program to help them enjoy fruits and vegetables -- to encourage eating properly. Reading was another thing they worked to get the children interested in. Her passion and excitement showed as she talked about the children she'd been working with. She works in a volunteer position during the summer, earns money for school at the Inn and lives at home so she can afford to work toward her goal. I learned all this as I sat reading and waiting for the cycles to run through in the laundry. Our clothes were better off at the hotel laundry than if we had found a laundrette. The laundry in Nice was very hard on clothes since you could not control the dryer at all....here I could set the dryer for cool temperatures for Kathy's clothes and high for our jeans and cottons! I also was able to have Internet access for the fist time in days and got caught up on my email and my posts about our whereabouts. Only a few places have provided access for free with accommodation --- usual cost is 10 pounds for 24 hours.
In the morning we began our drive into Edinburgh at 8:00 a.m. and had the car returned by 9:30 --- no scratches!!!!! We climbed in a cab and were delivered to our hotel (Jurys Inn) on the Royal Mile just across from the train station. After we got checked in at 11:00 we started to explore.
Our first stop was John Knox House, a great little museum and very nicely done it is not so busy and it therefore feels a bit like it might have when he was present there. It is also be coincidence the storytelling center--- and interesting combination. From one of the windows you can see the Cathedral where he preached! The house is the oldest remaining original construction for which history exists.. it was left mostly untouched because of its association with Knox! The spiral stone staircase leading up three flights is a wonder in itself. How these folks managed to do these stairs with ease and grace without breaking their necks is a puzzle in itself. There is a book shop here where you can buy books about Knox or storytelling....and performances by storytellers occur daily.
We were hungry and a bit chilled so we stopped in for lunch at the Forsythe Tea Room. It is in a small Close and is perhaps 24 feet long and 8 feet across built as it is in the side of one of the buildings on the close. There are little archways all along the main road that lead into courtyards with names above the arch telling you which Close you are entering. In these little courtyards are homes and shops.
The tea shop was run by an older woman probably in her 60s who is obviously suffering with RA -- but her face is radiant with good cheer. I notice that there is a table with spiritual books on it next to the register. Directly behind the register is the area where she cooks whatever you prefer from the days menu. Looking down the corridor at the tables there are tea towels for sale, tea cozies, and other small items --- such as tea cups and mugs. The Scots, like the Irish seem to love potatoes. There are even shops that serve nothing but baked potatoes which have a multitude of stuffings!! So I ordered a potato, tea and lemon curd tart. Kathy had a bacon and egg sandwich with apricot tart....of of course we had TEA!! It was lovely. While we waited the postman came in and had a bite to eat and a bit to drink as he delivered her post....In the course of the conversation I brought up the spiritual books next to the register and she pulled out her devotional and we shared the days entry. It was a real blessing for me, since I left my Disciplines (the book I use for daily devotional in Denmark!) It is strange, but you can't find a Bible in the drawer in Europe the way you do in the U.S. This lovely lady, works hard, keeps a cheerful countenance, and offers springs of living tea to any who crosses her path. By the time we left the shop had filled up with people, and I wondered at her ability to deal with all the carrying and walking! I believe that this place is probably bathed in prayer by people who cross her path and realize her gift and her difficulty. I said a prayer as I left, and hope to remember her in prayer even on my return home.
The rain picked up and our walk down the steep path to the palace was very wet and a wee bit windy. Holyroodhouse Palace -- the residence of the Queen -- once a year ---- in June--- is part of the National Trust and still a functioning place for events of state significance. The street is called the Royal mile because it is bordered by royal residences! Edinburgh Castle is at the other end. Palaces are residences and Castles were intended to be fortifications for the protection of an area. We are just about half way between the two landmarks. Edinburgh is (at least in this part) very hilly. The walk to the Palace was steeply down hill, and on either side of this street are shops specializing in Scottish crafts, tartans, Celtic jewelry, cafes, pubs, other hotels, and something we do not have in America. The Cancer Society, the Heart Association, Oxfam, and the organization supporting animals (like our SPCA) all often have shops on the High street (this is usually the name of the street that runs through a village or town).
Holyroodhouse was the palace where Mary Queen of Scots had her apartments and those are especially interesting with her private alter in her room. Her room is in the oldest part of the palace which has walls that are at least 3 feet thick. The other state apartments are lovely, but nothing as opulent as those of Europe. There is a distinctly different flavor of opulence when you cross the channel. Even in London the style is heavier and darker. More like a hunting lodge in some respects. I felt this same sense in Neuschuanstein in Germany. Dark heavily carved wood everywhere and chandeliers made of antlers instead of Crystal. I do not even have a name to give it....Baroque and Roccoco don't seem to apply. Then as you go North style becomes more spare still. The ceilings in the palaces are white plaster leaves and flowers in relief with perhaps only one ceiling fresco in the entire building. Their was a lot of Oak paneling --- from which may have hung tapestries. Kathy used the same elevator as the Queen in the palace (seems she has been getting the royal treatment in the palaces everywhere!). The docents all wear the Stewart Tartan to honor the Stewart Kings of England --- and they are quite fond of the Queen --and "Queen Mum" who both were partial to Scotland --- spending the month of August at Balmoral. A portrait of the Queen Mum hangs over the fireplace in one of the rooms.
Across from the palace is the new Scottish Parliament building. Designed by a Spaniard, there is still a lot of controversy about it. Not only does it NOT fit into this landscape --- it really doesn't look like a building that fits into any earthly landscape. It is shaped in bits and pieces in unconventional shapes some of which do not look habitable. It has a cold stainless steel exterior with rods of wood that look like someone might have been designing a shelter in the woods lining the side. Not only did it run over the estimated cost of building, but it is apparently badly insulated (a very bad thing in a climate where I am chilled to the bone in mid-July, but the windows do not open --- something unheard of here! One of the locals told me that "Tony Blair made us build this." The rain continued to come down heavily or lightly, but it was consistent in one thing, it came down! I was wet to the bone and chilled as well. When we finally got back to the hotel, I curled up and read under a blanket for more than an hour before I felt warm enough to uncover my arms. We slept in on our second day in Edinburgh.
2nd day Edinburgh.
Kathy had to get the train tickets for Ireland (they got so wet on the cruise to St. Tropez that they stuck together) so she was off to the train station this morning and left me to finish my computer entry and explore a bit. I was to be back to the hotel by 3 p.m. so that we could head off to Edinburgh Castle and then out to dinner. We need to be back early tonight since the train leaves at 6:30 a.m. so that is an early day!! We will have to get a grab and go bag for breakfast.
I went back up the Close and discovered an old church which had been demolished and partially restored. It is a museum now featuring brass rubbings. Then I headed up to the Royal Mile. Just as it did yesterday, it rained intermittently. Today I was smart enough to wear the pink Royal Caribbean rain/windbreaker that I bought -- but even that didn't completely keep me dry. My jeans were wet well up my calves, my shoes were soaked as were my socks, and my neck and shoulders were wet from rain migrating in through the opening at my neck! It was not a warm rain, and I stopped into Starbucks just to get warmed up a bit. There were two managers standing near the door, and I asked one if they used the same coffee that I got in the U.S. The one fellow was quite concerned that it didn't taste like what I was used to and brought me a french press and a bag of beans that he thought would taste more like home.
I told him that was unnecessary and that I wasn't complaining --- just asking---but he insisted that I take this and enjoy a good cup of coffee tonight in my room. So now I have a lovely Starbucks coffee press.
I darted into another Scottish shop and finally found two scarves that were McIntyre clan scarves! Apparently only the top 40 tartans are common and if you have a more unusual family name -- it is difficult to find that tartan--so I bought them -- then and there! The young woman was a student and this was a family owned store -- so we struck up a conversation and had quite a good conversation. As in so many places she commented on the fact that Bush had not promoted a sense of multi-culturalism -- She expressed her hopes for President Obama. This has been a universal experience for us....thumbs up for Obama.
I walked on up the mile headed for the Cathedral, but as I came closer I discovered that it was blocked off. There was a funeral for a young fireman going on. He had been killed in the line of duty and there were hundreds of firefighters and policemen standing in the rain in their dress uniforms outside the old cathedral. Flowers were strewn on the entry and the service was being broadcast outside for everyone to hear. I listen for a while and realized that this was going to go on for some time yet, and that it would be difficult if not impossible to get in and back to the hotel to meet Kathy at 3:00 -- so I started down the cobblestone street with rivers of water cascading over my feet and water dripping from my hair into my eyes, making it difficult to see.
After a moment to put my feet up we left for Edinburgh Castle at the top of the Royal mile--the desk clerk told us that we could catch the bus to the top of the hill ---- which didn't exactly turn out to be true! Actually it did take us up the hill --- but nowhere near the castle.....the hill was too steep for me to push Kathy, so she had to walk using the wheel chair to steady her on the cobbles. When we actually got to the top we found that stands had been set up for the Edinburgh Tattoo. A tattoo is a military parade, and it seems like these are really popular here in the UK. I watched the Windsor Tattoo which is the one the Queen has participated in even.....and Prince Phillip just stopped competing at the age of 87 in an event --- these Brits seem to be a very tough lot indeed!
Ordinarily the landscape would be easily viewed from this spot --- but with the stands you could not see the city at all. Once at the castle, we found that there are lovely arrangements for people who are mobility challenged and after purchasing a ticket we were picked up in a car and carried to the top of the Castle. This makes the preparations for protection at Stirling Castle look like child's play. The oldest building in Edinburgh is part of the castle -- it is a chapel that was erected around 1120 and was thought to be a part of an early royal residence. The rest long since was destroyed and the rest of the castle dates to around 1500 and much of it was built during the reign of James VI.
Mary Queen of Scots hated having to stay in the castle --- because it was apparently cold and drafty, not nearly as nice as Holyroodhouse, but the fortification was sturdy indeed, and afforded a clear vision of anyone coming by sea would have been visible for miles! There is a war memorial on the castle grounds which was a church that was used as barracks and then converted into a war memorial at the conclusion of WWI. It is similar to the Vietnam memorial in that each regiment has a book in which its dead are named. This memorial now goes on as Scots are killed in Afghanistan. Some of the memorial bears the marks of the age -- looking very much art deco in style, but the whole of it is quite beautiful with stained glass windows depicting war in each season. A statue stands over the entrance with her sword broken in half -- indicating the belief at the time that this war would end all war!
At 5:30 we left the Castle and walked a short block DOWN (down is good) the Royal Mile to the Witchery. This restaurant was reviewed as one of the best in Edinburgh...and for me that was true. We both had the heirloom tomato salad with baby herbs, but I chose local Salmon (which sat on a bed of baby asparagus with sweet potato), and heather honey parfait with Angus strawberries. Kathy did not have such good luck. She had beef (which was probably made from one of those Highland cows that we saw on the isle of Skye because it was really tough!) She had Oat cakes with local cheddar, chutney and preserves for desert. The restaurant was in a building that had been continuously occupied for the past 4 centuries. It is called the Witchery because it was the site where so many witches were burned at the stake during the time of James VI! The interior is slightly below the street level so the windows are maybe at thigh height if you are walking down the street. The walls are elegantly carved dark oak and the ceiling is typical of that time with patterned painting and beam construction.
Our waiter untied the red ribbons on our napkins and placed them in our laps --- an indication that this was certainly not a pub! Each table had a brass candlestick with a lighted candle in addition to a couple of votives so the entire room was lit by candle light -- a beautiful touch indeed. Our meals were from a promotional which gave us three courses for 30 pounds! I didn't look at the prices on the menu for the other items since I probably would have fainted dead away!
As we sat waiting for our meal I could watch the legs of pedestrians and occasionally someone would sit down on the curb to eat something. Now and again people would notice the windows and lean over to peer in. Children were just the right size to watch. Some were dancing and jumping up and down in excitement and some were crying because their little legs had simply worn out! Suddenly the sun burst through the clouds -- not timidly but as if it wanted to retake the sky! When we left the restaurant it was sunny and bright, but windy and cool. We walked down the street to the hotel. Kathy does quite well using her feet to keep from running wild through the streets so I (for a change had to keep pace with her!).
Tomorrow we will arrive in Ireland rather late in Cork I think --- I don't know what kind of Internet access to expect....
The trip to Edinburgh was pleasant enough and speedy......until we got about 50 miles from the city and started to look for a place to spend the night! We found several places in the shadow of a large nuclear plant --- Seeing nuclear plant towers was a bit unnerving so we drove on. The problem was that in a strange country you have no idea where to find the streets on which lodging is likely to be found. We found several places with rooms upstairs and no lift, one really elegant place in an old Inn that was too expensive, and finally we found a Premier Inn -- this is a little like a Days Inn and it was next to a restaurant that resembled Denney's or IHOP with a pub attached. The accommodations were clean and comfortable, but best of all there was a young woman working the desk who made the whole experience good.
We were desperate for a laundromat -- but these are hard to find in the UK as well. The kind young woman at the desk offered to let me use the Hotel's laundry facilities. "I don't know how to use the machines," She said, "I live at home and my Mum still does my laundry." I said, I was confident that together we could surmount the differences in equipment from the U.S. to the U.K. If she was willing, so was I. We figured it out together and our clothes were once again clean and dry! The young woman had completed two years of her college and was hoping to use her education to work with poor children in the city through police departments. She'd been involved in a program to help them enjoy fruits and vegetables -- to encourage eating properly. Reading was another thing they worked to get the children interested in. Her passion and excitement showed as she talked about the children she'd been working with. She works in a volunteer position during the summer, earns money for school at the Inn and lives at home so she can afford to work toward her goal. I learned all this as I sat reading and waiting for the cycles to run through in the laundry. Our clothes were better off at the hotel laundry than if we had found a laundrette. The laundry in Nice was very hard on clothes since you could not control the dryer at all....here I could set the dryer for cool temperatures for Kathy's clothes and high for our jeans and cottons!
I also was able to have Internet access for the fist time in days and got caught up on my email and my posts about our whereabouts. Only a few places have provided access for free with accommodation --- usual cost is 10 pounds for 24 hours.
In the morning We began our drive into Edinburgh at 8:00 a.m. and had the car returned by 9:30 --- no scratches!!!!! We climbed in a cab and were delivered to our hotel (Jurys Inn) on the Royal Mile just across from the train station. After we got checked in at 11:00 we started to explore.
Our first stop was John Knox House, a great little museum and very nicely done it is not so busy and it therefore feels a bit like it might have when he was present there. It is also be coincidence the storytelling center--- and interesting combination. From one of the windows you can see the Cathedral where he preached! The house is the oldest remaining original construction for which history exists.. it was left mostly untouched because of its association with Knox! The spiral stone staircase leading up three flights is a wonder in itself. How these folks managed to do these stairs with ease and grace without breaking their necks is a puzzle in itself. There is a book shop here where you can buy books about Knox or storytelling....and performances by storytellers occur daily.
We were hungry and a bit chilled so we stopped in for lunch at the Forsythe Tea Room. It is in a small Close and is perhaps 24 feet long and 8 feet across built as it is in the side of one of the buildings on the close. There are little archways all along the main road that lead into courtyards with names above the arch telling you which Close you are entering. In these little courtyards are homes and shops.
The tea shop was run by an older woman probably in her 60s who is obviously suffering with RA -- but her face is radiant with good cheer. I notice that there is a table with spiritual books on it next to the register. Directly behind the register is the area where she cooks whatever you prefer from the days menu. Looking down the corridor at the tables there are tea towels for sale, tea cozies, and other small items --- such as tea cups and mugs. The Scots, like the Irish seem to love potatoes. There are even shops that serve nothing but baked potatoes which have a multitude of stuffings!! So I ordered a potato, tea and lemon curd tart. Kathy had a bacon and egg sandwich with apricot tart....of of course we had TEA!! It was lovely.
While we waited the postman came in and had a bite to eat and a bit to drink as he delivered her post....In the course of the conversation I brought up the spiritual books next to the register and she pulled out her devotional and we shared the days entry. It was a real blessing for me, since I left my Disciplines (the book I use for daily devotional in Denmark!) It is strange, but you can't find a Bible in the drawer in Europe the way you do in the U.S. This lovely lady, works hard, keeps a cheerful countenance, and offers springs of living tea to any who crosses her path. By the time we left the shop had filled up with people, and I wondered at her ability to deal with all the carrying and walking! I believe that this place is probably bathed in prayer by people who cross her path and realize her gift and her difficulty. I said a prayer as I left, and hope to remember her in prayer even on my return home.
The rain picked up and our walk down the steep path to the palace was very wet and a wee bit windy. Holyroodhouse Palace -- the residence of the Queen -- once a year ---- in June--- is part of the National Trust and still a functioning place for events of state significance. The street is called the Royal mile because it is bordered by royal residences! Edinburgh Castle is at the other end. Palaces are residences and Castles were intended to be fortifications for the protection of an area. We are just about half way between the two landmarks. Edinburgh is (at least in this part) very hilly. The walk to the Palace was steeply down hill, and on either side of this street are shops specializing in Scottish crafts, tartans, Celtic jewelry, cafes, pubs, other hotels, and something we do not have in America. The Cancer Society, the Heart Association, Oxfam, and the organization supporting animals (like our SPCA) all often have shops on the High street (this is usually the name of the street that runs through a village or town. there is even a name for a few houses and post by the side of the road here --- hamlet)
Holyroodhouse was the palace where Mary Queen of Scots had her apartments and those are especially interesting with her private alter in her room. Her room is in the oldest part of the palace which has walls that are at least 3 feet thick. The other state apartments are lovely, but nothing as opulent as those of Europe. There is a distinctly different flavor of opulence when you cross the channel. Even in London the style is heavier and darker. More like a hunting lodge in some respects. I felt this same sense in Neuschuanstein in Germany. Dark heavily carved wood everywhere and chandeliers made of antlers instead of Crystal. I do not even have a name to give it....Baroque and Roccoco don't seem to apply. Then as you go North style becomes more spare still. The ceilings in the palaces are white plaster leaves and flowers in relief with perhaps only one ceiling fresco in the entire building. Their was a lot of Oak paneling --- from which may have hung tapestries.
Kathy used the same elevator as the Queen in the palace (seems she has been getting the royal treatment in the palaces everywhere!). The docents all wear the Stewart Tartan to honor the Stewart Kings of England --- and they are quite fond of the Queen --and "Queen Mum" who both were partial to Scotland --- spending the month of August at Balmoral. A portrait of the Queen Mum hangs over the fireplace in one of the rooms. Across from the palace is the new Scottish Parliament building. Designed by a Spaniard, there is still a lot of controversy about it. Not only does it NOT fit into this landscape --- it really doesn't look like a building that fits into any earthly landscape. It is shaped in bits and pieces in unconventional shapes some of which do not look habitable.
It has a cold stainless steel exterior with rods of wood that look like someone might have been designing a shelter in the woods lining the side. Not only did it run over the estimated cost of building, but it is apparently badly insulated (a very bad thing in a climate where I am chilled to the bone in mid-July, but the windows do not open --- something unheard of here! One of the locals told me that "Tony Blair made us build this."
The rain continued to come down heavily or lightly, but it was consistent in one thing, it came down! I was wet to the bone and chilled as well. When we finally got back to the hotel, I curled up and read under a blanket for more than an hour before I felt warm enough to uncover my arms. We slept in on our second day in Edinburgh.
I went back up the Close and discovered an old church which had been demolished and partially restored. It is a museum now featuring brass rubbings. Then I headed up to the Royal Mile. Just as it did yesterday, it rained intermittently. Today I was smart enough to wear the pink Royal Caribbean rain/windbreaker that I bought -- but even that didn't completely keep me dry. My jeans were wet well up my calves, my shoes were soaked as were my socks, and my neck and shoulders were wet from rain migrating in through the opening at my neck!
It was not a warm rain, and I stopped into Starbucks just to get warmed up a bit. There were two managers standing near the door, and I asked one if they used the same coffee that I got in the U.S. The one fellow was quite concerned that it didn't taste like what I was used to and brought me a french press and a bag of beans that he thought would taste more like home.
I told him that was unnecessary and that I wasn't complaining --- just asking---but he insisted that I take this and enjoy a good cup of coffee tonight in my room. So now I have a lovely Starbucks coffee press.I darted into another Scottish shop and finally found two scarves that were McIntyre clan scarves! Apparently only the top 40 tartans are common and if you have a more unusual family name -- it is difficult to find that tartan--so I bought them -- then and there! The young woman was a student and this was a family owned store -- so we struck up a conversation and had quite a good conversation. As in so many places she commented on the fact that Bush had not promoted a sense of multi-culturalism -- She expressed her hopes for President Obama. This has been a universal experience for us....thumbs up for Obama.
I walked on up the mile headed for the Cathedral, but as I came closer I discovered that it was blocked off. There was a funeral for a young fireman going on. He had been killed in the line of duty and there were hundreds of firefighters and policemen standing in the rain in their dress uniforms outside the old cathedral. Flowers were strewn on the entry and the service was being broadcast outside for everyone to hear. I listen for a while and realized that this was going to go on for some time yet, and that it would be difficult if not impossible to get in and back to the hotel to meet Kathy at 3:00 -- so I started down the cobblestone street with rivers of water cascading over my feet and water dripping from my hair into my eyes, making it difficult to see.
After a moment to put my feet up we left for Edinburgh Castle at the top of the Royal mile--the desk clerk told us that we could catch the bus to the top of the hill ---- which didn't exactly turn out to be true! Actually it did take us up the hill --- but nowhere near the castle.....the hill was too steep for me to push Kathy, so she had to walk using the wheel chair to steady her on the cobbles. When we actually got to the top we found that stands had been set up for the Edinburgh Tattoo. A tattoo is a military parade, and it seems like these are really popular here in the UK. I watched the Windsor Tattoo which is the one the Queen has participated in even.....and Prince Phillip just stopped competing at the age of 87 in an event --- these Brits seem to be a very tough lot indeed!
Ordinarily the landscape would be easily viewed from this spot --- but with the stands you could not see the city at all. Once at the castle, we found that there are lovely arrangements for people who are mobility challenged and after purchasing a ticket we were picked up in a car and carried to the top of the Castle. This makes the preparations for protection at Stirling Castle look like child's play. The oldest building in Edinburgh is part of the castle -- it is a chapel that was erected around 1120 and was thought to be a part of an early royal residence. The rest long since was destroyed and the rest of the castle dates to around 1500 and much of it was built during the reign of James VI.
Mary Queen of Scots hated having to stay in the castle --- because it was apparently cold and drafty, not nearly as nice as Holyroodhouse, but the fortification was sturdy indeed, and afforded a clear vision of anyone coming by sea would have been visible for miles! There is a war memorial on the castle grounds which was a church that was used as barracks and then converted into a war memorial at the conclusion of WWI. It is similar to the Vietnam memorial in that each regiment has a book in which its dead are named. This memorial now goes on as Scots are killed in Afghanistan. Some of the memorial bears the marks of the age -- looking very much art deco in style, but the whole of it is quite beautiful with stained glass windows depicting war in each season. A statue stands over the entrance with her sword broken in half -- indicating the belief at the time that this war would end all war!
At 5:30 we left the Castle and walked a short block DOWN (down is good) the Royal Mile to the Witchery. This restaurant was reviewed as one of the best in Edinburgh...and for me that was true. We both had the heirloom tomato salad with baby herbs, but I chose local Salmon (which sat on a bed of baby asparagus with sweet potato), and heather honey parfait with Angus strawberries. Kathy did not have such good luck. She had beef (which was probably made from one of those Highland cows that we saw on the isle of Skye because it was really tough!) She had Oat cakes with local cheddar, chutney and preserves for desert.
The restaurant was in a building that had been continuously occupied for the past 4 centuries. It is called the Witchery because it was the site where so many witches were burned at the stake during the time of James VI! The interior is slightly below the street level so the windows are maybe at thigh height if you are walking down the street. The walls are elegantly carved dark oak and the ceiling is typical of that time with patterned painting and beam construction.
Our waiter untied the red ribbons on our napkins and placed them in our laps --- an indication that this was certainly not a pub! Each table had a brass candlestick with a lighted candle in addition to a couple of votives so the entire room was lit by candle light -- a beautiful touch indeed. Our meals were from a promotional which gave us three courses for 30 pounds! I didn't look at the prices on the menu for the other items since I probably would have fainted dead away!
As we sat waiting for our meal I could watch the legs of pedestrians and occasionally someone would sit down on the curb to eat something. Now and again people would notice the windows and lean over to peer in. Children were just the right size to watch. Some were dancing and jumping up and down in excitement and some were crying because their little legs had simply worn out! Suddenly the sun burst through the clouds -- not timidly but as if it wanted to retake the sky! When we left the restaurant it was sunny and bright, but windy and cool. We walked down the street to the hotel. Kathy does quite well using her feet to keep from running wild through the streets so I (for a change had to keep pace with her!).
Tomorrow we will arrive in Ireland rather late in Cork I think --- after many changes of train and a ferry ride in addition to possible taxi rides as well. This may be my last post for a while, since I have no idea what kind of Internet access I can expect in Ireland!
We were desperate for a laundromat -- but these are hard to find in the UK as well. The kind young woman at the desk offered to let me use the Hotel's laundry facilities. "I don't know how to use the machines," She said, "I live at home and my Mum still does my laundry." I said, I was confident that together we could surmount the differences in equipment from the U.S. to the U.K. If she was willing, so was I. We figured it out together and our clothes were once again clean and dry! The young woman had completed two years of her college and was hoping to use her education to work with poor children in the city through police departments. She'd been involved in a program to help them enjoy fruits and vegetables -- to encourage eating properly. Reading was another thing they worked to get the children interested in. Her passion and excitement showed as she talked about the children she'd been working with. She works in a volunteer position during the summer, earns money for school at the Inn and lives at home so she can afford to work toward her goal. I learned all this as I sat reading and waiting for the cycles to run through in the laundry. Our clothes were better off at the hotel laundry than if we had found a laundrette. The laundry in Nice was very hard on clothes since you could not control the dryer at all....here I could set the dryer for cool temperatures for Kathy's clothes and high for our jeans and cottons!
I also was able to have Internet access for the fist time in days and got caught up on my email and my posts about our whereabouts. Only a few places have provided access for free with accommodation --- usual cost is 10 pounds for 24 hours.
In the morning We began our drive into Edinburgh at 8:00 a.m. and had the car returned by 9:30 --- no scratches!!!!! We climbed in a cab and were delivered to our hotel (Jurys Inn) on the Royal Mile just across from the train station. After we got checked in at 11:00 we started to explore.
Our first stop was John Knox House, a great little museum and very nicely done it is not so busy and it therefore feels a bit like it might have when he was present there. It is also be coincidence the storytelling center--- and interesting combination. From one of the windows you can see the Cathedral where he preached! The house is the oldest remaining original construction for which history exists.. it was left mostly untouched because of its association with Knox! The spiral stone staircase leading up three flights is a wonder in itself. How these folks managed to do these stairs with ease and grace without breaking their necks is a puzzle in itself. There is a book shop here where you can buy books about Knox or storytelling....and performances by storytellers occur daily.
We were hungry and a bit chilled so we stopped in for lunch at the Forsythe Tea Room. It is in a small Close and is perhaps 24 feet long and 8 feet across built as it is in the side of one of the buildings on the close. There are little archways all along the main road that lead into courtyards with names above the arch telling you which Close you are entering. In these little courtyards are homes and shops.
The tea shop was run by an older woman probably in her 60s who is obviously suffering with RA -- but her face is radiant with good cheer. I notice that there is a table with spiritual books on it next to the register. Directly behind the register is the area where she cooks whatever you prefer from the days menu. Looking down the corridor at the tables there are tea towels for sale, tea cozies, and other small items --- such as tea cups and mugs. The Scots, like the Irish seem to love potatoes. There are even shops that serve nothing but baked potatoes which have a multitude of stuffings!! So I ordered a potato, tea and lemon curd tart. Kathy had a bacon and egg sandwich with apricot tart....of of course we had TEA!! It was lovely.
While we waited the postman came in and had a bite to eat and a bit to drink as he delivered her post....In the course of the conversation I brought up the spiritual books next to the register and she pulled out her devotional and we shared the days entry. It was a real blessing for me, since I left my Disciplines (the book I use for daily devotional in Denmark!) It is strange, but you can't find a Bible in the drawer in Europe the way you do in the U.S. This lovely lady, works hard, keeps a cheerful countenance, and offers springs of living tea to any who crosses her path. By the time we left the shop had filled up with people, and I wondered at her ability to deal with all the carrying and walking! I believe that this place is probably bathed in prayer by people who cross her path and realize her gift and her difficulty. I said a prayer as I left, and hope to remember her in prayer even on my return home.
The rain picked up and our walk down the steep path to the palace was very wet and a wee bit windy. Holyroodhouse Palace -- the residence of the Queen -- once a year ---- in June--- is part of the National Trust and still a functioning place for events of state significance. The street is called the Royal mile because it is bordered by royal residences! Edinburgh Castle is at the other end. Palaces are residences and Castles were intended to be fortifications for the protection of an area. We are just about half way between the two landmarks. Edinburgh is (at least in this part) very hilly. The walk to the Palace was steeply down hill, and on either side of this street are shops specializing in Scottish crafts, tartans, Celtic jewelry, cafes, pubs, other hotels, and something we do not have in America. The Cancer Society, the Heart Association, Oxfam, and the organization supporting animals (like our SPCA) all often have shops on the High street (this is usually the name of the street that runs through a village or town. there is even a name for a few houses and post by the side of the road here --- hamlet)
Holyroodhouse was the palace where Mary Queen of Scots had her apartments and those are especially interesting with her private alter in her room. Her room is in the oldest part of the palace which has walls that are at least 3 feet thick. The other state apartments are lovely, but nothing as opulent as those of Europe. There is a distinctly different flavor of opulence when you cross the channel. Even in London the style is heavier and darker. More like a hunting lodge in some respects. I felt this same sense in Neuschuanstein in Germany. Dark heavily carved wood everywhere and chandeliers made of antlers instead of Crystal. I do not even have a name to give it....Baroque and Roccoco don't seem to apply. Then as you go North style becomes more spare still. The ceilings in the palaces are white plaster leaves and flowers in relief with perhaps only one ceiling fresco in the entire building. Their was a lot of Oak paneling --- from which may have hung tapestries.
Kathy used the same elevator as the Queen in the palace (seems she has been getting the royal treatment in the palaces everywhere!). The docents all wear the Stewart Tartan to honor the Stewart Kings of England --- and they are quite fond of the Queen --and "Queen Mum" who both were partial to Scotland --- spending the month of August at Balmoral. A portrait of the Queen Mum hangs over the fireplace in one of the rooms. Across from the palace is the new Scottish Parliament building. Designed by a Spaniard, there is still a lot of controversy about it. Not only does it NOT fit into this landscape --- it really doesn't look like a building that fits into any earthly landscape. It is shaped in bits and pieces in unconventional shapes some of which do not look habitable.
It has a cold stainless steel exterior with rods of wood that look like someone might have been designing a shelter in the woods lining the side. Not only did it run over the estimated cost of building, but it is apparently badly insulated (a very bad thing in a climate where I am chilled to the bone in mid-July, but the windows do not open --- something unheard of here! One of the locals told me that "Tony Blair made us build this."
The rain continued to come down heavily or lightly, but it was consistent in one thing, it came down! I was wet to the bone and chilled as well. When we finally got back to the hotel, I curled up and read under a blanket for more than an hour before I felt warm enough to uncover my arms. We slept in on our second day in Edinburgh.
2nd day Edinburgh.
Kathy had to get the train tickets for Ireland (they got so wet on the cruise to St. Tropez that they stuck together) so she was off to the train station this morning and left me to finish my computer entry and explore a bit. I was to be back to the hotel by 3 p.m. so that we could head off to Edinburgh Castle and then out to dinner. We need to be back early tonight since the train leaves at 6:30 a.m. so that is an early day!! We will have to get a grab and go bag for breakfast.
Kathy had to get the train tickets for Ireland (they got so wet on the cruise to St. Tropez that they stuck together) so she was off to the train station this morning and left me to finish my computer entry and explore a bit. I was to be back to the hotel by 3 p.m. so that we could head off to Edinburgh Castle and then out to dinner. We need to be back early tonight since the train leaves at 6:30 a.m. so that is an early day!! We will have to get a grab and go bag for breakfast.
I went back up the Close and discovered an old church which had been demolished and partially restored. It is a museum now featuring brass rubbings. Then I headed up to the Royal Mile. Just as it did yesterday, it rained intermittently. Today I was smart enough to wear the pink Royal Caribbean rain/windbreaker that I bought -- but even that didn't completely keep me dry. My jeans were wet well up my calves, my shoes were soaked as were my socks, and my neck and shoulders were wet from rain migrating in through the opening at my neck!
It was not a warm rain, and I stopped into Starbucks just to get warmed up a bit. There were two managers standing near the door, and I asked one if they used the same coffee that I got in the U.S. The one fellow was quite concerned that it didn't taste like what I was used to and brought me a french press and a bag of beans that he thought would taste more like home.
I told him that was unnecessary and that I wasn't complaining --- just asking---but he insisted that I take this and enjoy a good cup of coffee tonight in my room. So now I have a lovely Starbucks coffee press.I darted into another Scottish shop and finally found two scarves that were McIntyre clan scarves! Apparently only the top 40 tartans are common and if you have a more unusual family name -- it is difficult to find that tartan--so I bought them -- then and there! The young woman was a student and this was a family owned store -- so we struck up a conversation and had quite a good conversation. As in so many places she commented on the fact that Bush had not promoted a sense of multi-culturalism -- She expressed her hopes for President Obama. This has been a universal experience for us....thumbs up for Obama.
I walked on up the mile headed for the Cathedral, but as I came closer I discovered that it was blocked off. There was a funeral for a young fireman going on. He had been killed in the line of duty and there were hundreds of firefighters and policemen standing in the rain in their dress uniforms outside the old cathedral. Flowers were strewn on the entry and the service was being broadcast outside for everyone to hear. I listen for a while and realized that this was going to go on for some time yet, and that it would be difficult if not impossible to get in and back to the hotel to meet Kathy at 3:00 -- so I started down the cobblestone street with rivers of water cascading over my feet and water dripping from my hair into my eyes, making it difficult to see.
After a moment to put my feet up we left for Edinburgh Castle at the top of the Royal mile--the desk clerk told us that we could catch the bus to the top of the hill ---- which didn't exactly turn out to be true! Actually it did take us up the hill --- but nowhere near the castle.....the hill was too steep for me to push Kathy, so she had to walk using the wheel chair to steady her on the cobbles. When we actually got to the top we found that stands had been set up for the Edinburgh Tattoo. A tattoo is a military parade, and it seems like these are really popular here in the UK. I watched the Windsor Tattoo which is the one the Queen has participated in even.....and Prince Phillip just stopped competing at the age of 87 in an event --- these Brits seem to be a very tough lot indeed!
Ordinarily the landscape would be easily viewed from this spot --- but with the stands you could not see the city at all. Once at the castle, we found that there are lovely arrangements for people who are mobility challenged and after purchasing a ticket we were picked up in a car and carried to the top of the Castle. This makes the preparations for protection at Stirling Castle look like child's play. The oldest building in Edinburgh is part of the castle -- it is a chapel that was erected around 1120 and was thought to be a part of an early royal residence. The rest long since was destroyed and the rest of the castle dates to around 1500 and much of it was built during the reign of James VI.
Mary Queen of Scots hated having to stay in the castle --- because it was apparently cold and drafty, not nearly as nice as Holyroodhouse, but the fortification was sturdy indeed, and afforded a clear vision of anyone coming by sea would have been visible for miles! There is a war memorial on the castle grounds which was a church that was used as barracks and then converted into a war memorial at the conclusion of WWI. It is similar to the Vietnam memorial in that each regiment has a book in which its dead are named. This memorial now goes on as Scots are killed in Afghanistan. Some of the memorial bears the marks of the age -- looking very much art deco in style, but the whole of it is quite beautiful with stained glass windows depicting war in each season. A statue stands over the entrance with her sword broken in half -- indicating the belief at the time that this war would end all war!
At 5:30 we left the Castle and walked a short block DOWN (down is good) the Royal Mile to the Witchery. This restaurant was reviewed as one of the best in Edinburgh...and for me that was true. We both had the heirloom tomato salad with baby herbs, but I chose local Salmon (which sat on a bed of baby asparagus with sweet potato), and heather honey parfait with Angus strawberries. Kathy did not have such good luck. She had beef (which was probably made from one of those Highland cows that we saw on the isle of Skye because it was really tough!) She had Oat cakes with local cheddar, chutney and preserves for desert.
The restaurant was in a building that had been continuously occupied for the past 4 centuries. It is called the Witchery because it was the site where so many witches were burned at the stake during the time of James VI! The interior is slightly below the street level so the windows are maybe at thigh height if you are walking down the street. The walls are elegantly carved dark oak and the ceiling is typical of that time with patterned painting and beam construction.
Our waiter untied the red ribbons on our napkins and placed them in our laps --- an indication that this was certainly not a pub! Each table had a brass candlestick with a lighted candle in addition to a couple of votives so the entire room was lit by candle light -- a beautiful touch indeed. Our meals were from a promotional which gave us three courses for 30 pounds! I didn't look at the prices on the menu for the other items since I probably would have fainted dead away!
As we sat waiting for our meal I could watch the legs of pedestrians and occasionally someone would sit down on the curb to eat something. Now and again people would notice the windows and lean over to peer in. Children were just the right size to watch. Some were dancing and jumping up and down in excitement and some were crying because their little legs had simply worn out! Suddenly the sun burst through the clouds -- not timidly but as if it wanted to retake the sky! When we left the restaurant it was sunny and bright, but windy and cool. We walked down the street to the hotel. Kathy does quite well using her feet to keep from running wild through the streets so I (for a change had to keep pace with her!).
Tomorrow we will arrive in Ireland rather late in Cork I think --- after many changes of train and a ferry ride in addition to possible taxi rides as well. This may be my last post for a while, since I have no idea what kind of Internet access I can expect in Ireland!
Monday, July 20, 2009
Isle of Skye
We left early in the morning after a British Breakfast (eggs, toast, bacon (which is more like ham) grilled tomato and mushroom, and cereal of choice. Another feature of the British Breakfast is the practice of toast bits (they fry small pieces of toast in butter --- and many also always have baked beans and 'sausage; which is really more like our wieners than sausage. They also serve "black sausage" which is a blood sausage. I really do not like the taste or the texture either one!
We drove mostly on the M1 which mean that we could sail along at 70 most of the time. There were two construction zones that really slowed us down, however! and by lunch we were off on the A86 heading into Scotland --- past Glen Coe. As the day wore on we stopped to eat lunch at a shop along the side of the road. We were looking for a pub (pub food is usually cheaper than restaurant food), or a tea room....what we found was the Scottish version of fast food.
The rain was pouring from the sky and we ventured in ....there was a queue of travelers. A menu written in chalk on a black board and you ordered your food, paid for it, and received a number. Then a waiter brought the food out and called the number. Kathy ordered 1/2 a small range chicken baked, and we both ordered a salad. The salad consisted of three piles of vegetables. 1) shredded carrots, 2) shredded red cabbage, 3) spring greens. I had the creamy Caesar dressing --- the salad was O.K., but clearly these people prefer a sort of slaw type salad. The chicken we shared and it was tasty with rosemary as the primary seasoning. We had trouble understanding the dialect, and they had trouble understanding ours!
We went in and sat at a table which we shared with a young British couple with two children. The room was an outdoor room, but it was covered over like a tent to keep the rain out. At one end there was a large wood burning stove to keep the place warm --- and yes it was blazing! Kathy, who seems to have a different temperature setting thought it was comfortable out today, but as for me--- I was cold! We finished eating and got back on the road.
We stopped in Fort William about two hours south of the Isle of Skye. It was spitting rain and very misty, and it was nearly 4:30 p.m. We found a family run motel -- owned by the Clan McDuff -- It was very reasonable at 75 pounds for the night -- clean and very modern for this part of the world...Breakfast was served at 8:00 and we started the day with some new additions to the things that we'd not had before. Oak Biscuits are one traditional Scottish breakfast food --- that are sort of like a cookie, but not sweet or short enough to be a cookie. They are a bit bland and crunchy --- I also sampled some Scottish porridge which is pretty much like Irish oatmeal only a bit runnier with no salt or sugar added.....so when you add that it is tasty and filling.
We drove for nearly two hours before we reached the bridge for the Isle of Sky. The bridge itself stirred a great deal of controversy apparently because of its size and height. We were expecting something very long and spectacular, thought the bridge was tall, it was not particularly wide, certainly no wider than the one spanning the Mississippi at Memphis! It does dominate the landscape, but it is not particularly outstanding.
The landscape made up for the bridge. It sweeps away and upward into mountains that seem very old, rugged in a rounded sort of way. They are stark, covered with huge boulders of ancient origin. They are worn and one had a tree growing right out of its heart, a testament to the amount of rain that must fall here. For a tree to take route in rock there must be almost daily rainfall. There are streaks of white running down the mountain sides which turn out to be streams of rushing water which leap and drop over the rocks until they converge at the base of the mountain in a rushing stream. The road lies out before us wide enough for two cars to pass, and marked with lines in the center as well as on the sides! Tour buses passed us with guides explaining the ancient origins and other interesting points along the way.
The sky was alternately gray and white mist. It brought occasional downpours which the windscreen (windshield) wipers can not keep up with, but it soon stopped and I followed the curving road to the goal. At times I flew along at 60 miles per hour but then the road would narrow and the rains came and the side of the road provides no support, so I wouold slow to 40 and edge along. There are turnouts along this spiraling road that allow you vistas that carry with them an other-earthly sense. It is so different from any landscape I can recall. It makes me feel like Green Valley Utah --- almost as though you might be on another planet entirely.
There are bikers and walkers along the roadside and on the paths along the face of the mountains. Pools of still water now and again reflect the sky and land in an erie illusion-- lending the sense the land and sky are one. Once we crossed the bridge there were more cottages, sheep and cattle. The cattle look like a cross between a yak and a Texas Longhorn! They are the strangest cattle I have ever seen. Their heads are large resembling bison, and they are a bit larger than an ordinary cow. Sheep wander onto the roadway for their appear to be no fences here. Periodically we come to sheep crossing signs.
Once again villages increase in frequency. Many of these homes look as though they were built recently, though they are painstakingly copies of older homes. It is strange that for miles prior to the bridge to Skye there was little or no development, and now that we have crossed over there are villages and farms.
We drove all the way to the tip before we stopped at a pub for lunch. There were not many places to eat in this small town which was the point for catching the fairy over to the Hebrides. I decided on a burger, since a backed potato with just plain butter was nearly 5 pounds! After a good and filling lunch we headed back the way we had come. We stopped at an old castle not long after we left the Isle, but unfortunately it was not accessible. We also made a quick stop at a grocery where we picked up food for the evening meal.
Chilled but in awe of Scotland, we were happy to return to the Clan McDuff for the night!
We drove mostly on the M1 which mean that we could sail along at 70 most of the time. There were two construction zones that really slowed us down, however! and by lunch we were off on the A86 heading into Scotland --- past Glen Coe. As the day wore on we stopped to eat lunch at a shop along the side of the road. We were looking for a pub (pub food is usually cheaper than restaurant food), or a tea room....what we found was the Scottish version of fast food.
The rain was pouring from the sky and we ventured in ....there was a queue of travelers. A menu written in chalk on a black board and you ordered your food, paid for it, and received a number. Then a waiter brought the food out and called the number. Kathy ordered 1/2 a small range chicken baked, and we both ordered a salad. The salad consisted of three piles of vegetables. 1) shredded carrots, 2) shredded red cabbage, 3) spring greens. I had the creamy Caesar dressing --- the salad was O.K., but clearly these people prefer a sort of slaw type salad. The chicken we shared and it was tasty with rosemary as the primary seasoning. We had trouble understanding the dialect, and they had trouble understanding ours!
We went in and sat at a table which we shared with a young British couple with two children. The room was an outdoor room, but it was covered over like a tent to keep the rain out. At one end there was a large wood burning stove to keep the place warm --- and yes it was blazing! Kathy, who seems to have a different temperature setting thought it was comfortable out today, but as for me--- I was cold! We finished eating and got back on the road.
We stopped in Fort William about two hours south of the Isle of Skye. It was spitting rain and very misty, and it was nearly 4:30 p.m. We found a family run motel -- owned by the Clan McDuff -- It was very reasonable at 75 pounds for the night -- clean and very modern for this part of the world...Breakfast was served at 8:00 and we started the day with some new additions to the things that we'd not had before. Oak Biscuits are one traditional Scottish breakfast food --- that are sort of like a cookie, but not sweet or short enough to be a cookie. They are a bit bland and crunchy --- I also sampled some Scottish porridge which is pretty much like Irish oatmeal only a bit runnier with no salt or sugar added.....so when you add that it is tasty and filling.
We drove for nearly two hours before we reached the bridge for the Isle of Sky. The bridge itself stirred a great deal of controversy apparently because of its size and height. We were expecting something very long and spectacular, thought the bridge was tall, it was not particularly wide, certainly no wider than the one spanning the Mississippi at Memphis! It does dominate the landscape, but it is not particularly outstanding.
The landscape made up for the bridge. It sweeps away and upward into mountains that seem very old, rugged in a rounded sort of way. They are stark, covered with huge boulders of ancient origin. They are worn and one had a tree growing right out of its heart, a testament to the amount of rain that must fall here. For a tree to take route in rock there must be almost daily rainfall. There are streaks of white running down the mountain sides which turn out to be streams of rushing water which leap and drop over the rocks until they converge at the base of the mountain in a rushing stream. The road lies out before us wide enough for two cars to pass, and marked with lines in the center as well as on the sides! Tour buses passed us with guides explaining the ancient origins and other interesting points along the way.
The sky was alternately gray and white mist. It brought occasional downpours which the windscreen (windshield) wipers can not keep up with, but it soon stopped and I followed the curving road to the goal. At times I flew along at 60 miles per hour but then the road would narrow and the rains came and the side of the road provides no support, so I wouold slow to 40 and edge along. There are turnouts along this spiraling road that allow you vistas that carry with them an other-earthly sense. It is so different from any landscape I can recall. It makes me feel like Green Valley Utah --- almost as though you might be on another planet entirely.
There are bikers and walkers along the roadside and on the paths along the face of the mountains. Pools of still water now and again reflect the sky and land in an erie illusion-- lending the sense the land and sky are one. Once we crossed the bridge there were more cottages, sheep and cattle. The cattle look like a cross between a yak and a Texas Longhorn! They are the strangest cattle I have ever seen. Their heads are large resembling bison, and they are a bit larger than an ordinary cow. Sheep wander onto the roadway for their appear to be no fences here. Periodically we come to sheep crossing signs.
Once again villages increase in frequency. Many of these homes look as though they were built recently, though they are painstakingly copies of older homes. It is strange that for miles prior to the bridge to Skye there was little or no development, and now that we have crossed over there are villages and farms.
We drove all the way to the tip before we stopped at a pub for lunch. There were not many places to eat in this small town which was the point for catching the fairy over to the Hebrides. I decided on a burger, since a backed potato with just plain butter was nearly 5 pounds! After a good and filling lunch we headed back the way we had come. We stopped at an old castle not long after we left the Isle, but unfortunately it was not accessible. We also made a quick stop at a grocery where we picked up food for the evening meal.
Chilled but in awe of Scotland, we were happy to return to the Clan McDuff for the night!
Wordsworth & Beatrix Potter Lived Here!
We headed for the Lake District in heavy rain and wind. The roadways were puddling up, especially on the B roads that we were routed over until we reached the A66. There were may places we crossed that had water deeper than I would normally drive through if it were moving, but it was just standing water, so I prayed to the car gods to keep us from stalling out and drove on.
We reached Keswich by lunch and headed off in the direction of Beatrix Potter's home near Grasmere. The country seemed to heave itself upward into mountains that looked more like huge hills than what we think of as mountains.
They must be very old and worn down indeed for they are covered with rock walls and verdant with grass. Sheep dot the hillsides and water runs down them in great falls and rocky rivulets--white against the many shades of green. Even with the grey sky as backdrop the colors pop! The roads grew narrower as we got closer to the mark and once again I was on rock wall lined roads that were never intended to support automobile traffic.
These roads have little turn-outs probably put there for horse and buggy traffic. Now the locals and truck drivers whiz through these narrow thoroughfares believing that you are a competent driver accustomed to the path! The car we have is much larger than most cars in the district. I pull it all the way into the spot --- completely flush with the wall and it still sticks out longer than the white line for the spot. It is also wider than most cars --- which means I must try to find a spot far enough away that I can take up more space without worrying about a car parking next to me and bunging up the doors. I worry about getting a nic or mark on the exterior since my last experience when someone must have scratched the car in a lot --- for when I turned it in --- they made a really big deal about it......Kathy had to pay extra!
We arrived at Hilltop house at about 1:30 only to find it closed!!! But at least the garden and shop were open. Miss Potter willed her home to the National Trust with one stipulation -- that it be kept just as it was when she lived in it. For the past 60 years this has been so. I felt sad not to see the rooms in which she wrote, but the garden was a real treat. The woman who worked for the trust told me that it was indeed as Miss Potter kept it. The plants were all descendants of the originals! I took lots of pictures of them--- thinking about our little school garden back in Nashville and wondering what it looked like today.
We stopped and had lunch at a public house along the way ---It had been built in the early 1700s and the interior walls tilted and gyrated in unpredictable patterns. The ceilings were low -- probably not even 7 feet high testament to the fact that we have grown taller over the centuries. I had the fish and chips with pease pudding (it is sort of mashed peas with ham in it). It tasted better than I expected. Pease Porridge is probably a lot like split pea soup....but that part about it being nine days old, Kathy said, didn't sound good to her. (me either -- now that I think about it)
We next headed over to Wordsworth's Dove Cottage -- and museum. He lived in this cottage for nearly a decade and was most prolific there. He came upon the place as he was walking over the path that was called Coffin Lane -- it was the path that coffins were carried up and over to the churchyard on the other side of the mountain. There were large rock slabs to support the coffins if those who carried them tired in the task! At any rate, the place was painted bright white and stood out against its companion houses. It had been a pub for nearly 200 years before Wordsworth came upon and was for rent.....He and his sister Dorothy took the place and moved in. It had many famous occupants including; Coleridge, Sotheby, Blake, Byron and others.
During his time at this residence he married and had 8 children, in addition to many house guests (who often stayed for months at a time!). This idea was difficult to imagine --- since the place was really quite small and DARK., though his study upstairs had a (for those times) large window that would have looked out across meadows to the lake. It was also painted colorfully and quite pleasant. The rest of the home was another story. The dining room with its hearth (which was lighted with coal burning to warm the place (yes it was cold today) had dark paneling and would have been really difficult to work in because it was so dark, yet according to the docent all the work of the home was done there. Next to it was a bedroom for Dorothy. It was so dark that this was the only purpose the room could serve.
There was a window tax at the time ---- and many places tried to keep windows to a minimum to keep from paying it! The kitchen was also small, and all the rooms had large plank floors in which no attempt was made to have the planks form any sort of coherent design --- not even straight lines! There was a room off the kitchen which had a stream running beneath it -- that the family used to keep food chilled --- as the docent pointed out Mrs. Wordsworth thought that she could keep things there for us to two weeks --- but by today's standards of freshness --- we might have different thoughts.
Thechildren's room which Dorothy had papered the walls with News paper in an attempt to keep the cold at bay, and you can read newspaper bits from the time! His sister lived with his family because at the time unmarried women didn't live alone --- of course Beatrix Potter broke that rule! The thing that seemed interesting to me was the role Dorothy played in Wordsworth's writing.
Wordsworth used her journals for his inspiration for his poetry. He apparently relied on her realistic entries as prompts for his poetry.
He wrote about the human condition unlike Byron who tended to write about adventure and affairs of the heart and of state with a bit of satire thrown in! While Byron outsold Wordsworth, Wordsworth will probably stand the test of time because of the subjects he chose to write about. In his bedroom his passport hung behind glass --- looking more like a letter of introduction --- it told of his travel to Italy and France. On the other wall was his appointment to be poet laureate --- with Queen Victoria's signature. He finally agreed to the appointment only if he didn't have to write on command, he believed he could not do that -- he had to have inspiration--- so ironically the whole 8 years he served as poet laureate he never wrote anything for the Queen. Early he had been against the monarchy and supported the republican concepts of the French Revolution. He had been in France for the storming of the Bastille....but he managed to escape being tried as a traitor --- the English aristocracy and monarchy feared that a revolution could start up in England!
Like all Englishmen he loved a garden and his garden was also quite lovely, but the rain and chill sent us back to the car and off to find our Bed and Breakfast. It was not far from Keswich. The wiry-spry older lady who operates it said she walks to town every day --- through the park she said, it only takes about 15 minutes! She was married to a farmer, but they sold all their land (she sighed as she recalled that.) In her back yard are a flock of sheep grazing in the rain! The mamas are sheered and they are not letting the babies eat. They butt them away, and occasionally one of the mother sheep butts another sheep away from the trough!
There was a lovely watercolor in the hall of their farm home. Apparently they had people stay there also. Originally there was only one large room upstairs for guests which had many beds in it. Later they divided the space up into rooms and now that her husband is gone she carries on the tradition in town. She pointed lovingly to the house, which had been built in the 1600s. The door was especially designed to keep the Scots from bursting in, and she demonstrated the technique they might have used. Then with a wistful sigh, she said, it was a lovely old house, but too much for me to maintain.
Tomorrow we will begin our trek to the Isle of Skye.
We reached Keswich by lunch and headed off in the direction of Beatrix Potter's home near Grasmere. The country seemed to heave itself upward into mountains that looked more like huge hills than what we think of as mountains.
They must be very old and worn down indeed for they are covered with rock walls and verdant with grass. Sheep dot the hillsides and water runs down them in great falls and rocky rivulets--white against the many shades of green. Even with the grey sky as backdrop the colors pop! The roads grew narrower as we got closer to the mark and once again I was on rock wall lined roads that were never intended to support automobile traffic.
These roads have little turn-outs probably put there for horse and buggy traffic. Now the locals and truck drivers whiz through these narrow thoroughfares believing that you are a competent driver accustomed to the path! The car we have is much larger than most cars in the district. I pull it all the way into the spot --- completely flush with the wall and it still sticks out longer than the white line for the spot. It is also wider than most cars --- which means I must try to find a spot far enough away that I can take up more space without worrying about a car parking next to me and bunging up the doors. I worry about getting a nic or mark on the exterior since my last experience when someone must have scratched the car in a lot --- for when I turned it in --- they made a really big deal about it......Kathy had to pay extra!
We arrived at Hilltop house at about 1:30 only to find it closed!!! But at least the garden and shop were open. Miss Potter willed her home to the National Trust with one stipulation -- that it be kept just as it was when she lived in it. For the past 60 years this has been so. I felt sad not to see the rooms in which she wrote, but the garden was a real treat. The woman who worked for the trust told me that it was indeed as Miss Potter kept it. The plants were all descendants of the originals! I took lots of pictures of them--- thinking about our little school garden back in Nashville and wondering what it looked like today.
We stopped and had lunch at a public house along the way ---It had been built in the early 1700s and the interior walls tilted and gyrated in unpredictable patterns. The ceilings were low -- probably not even 7 feet high testament to the fact that we have grown taller over the centuries. I had the fish and chips with pease pudding (it is sort of mashed peas with ham in it). It tasted better than I expected. Pease Porridge is probably a lot like split pea soup....but that part about it being nine days old, Kathy said, didn't sound good to her. (me either -- now that I think about it)
We next headed over to Wordsworth's Dove Cottage -- and museum. He lived in this cottage for nearly a decade and was most prolific there. He came upon the place as he was walking over the path that was called Coffin Lane -- it was the path that coffins were carried up and over to the churchyard on the other side of the mountain. There were large rock slabs to support the coffins if those who carried them tired in the task! At any rate, the place was painted bright white and stood out against its companion houses. It had been a pub for nearly 200 years before Wordsworth came upon and was for rent.....He and his sister Dorothy took the place and moved in. It had many famous occupants including; Coleridge, Sotheby, Blake, Byron and others.
During his time at this residence he married and had 8 children, in addition to many house guests (who often stayed for months at a time!). This idea was difficult to imagine --- since the place was really quite small and DARK., though his study upstairs had a (for those times) large window that would have looked out across meadows to the lake. It was also painted colorfully and quite pleasant. The rest of the home was another story. The dining room with its hearth (which was lighted with coal burning to warm the place (yes it was cold today) had dark paneling and would have been really difficult to work in because it was so dark, yet according to the docent all the work of the home was done there. Next to it was a bedroom for Dorothy. It was so dark that this was the only purpose the room could serve.
There was a window tax at the time ---- and many places tried to keep windows to a minimum to keep from paying it! The kitchen was also small, and all the rooms had large plank floors in which no attempt was made to have the planks form any sort of coherent design --- not even straight lines! There was a room off the kitchen which had a stream running beneath it -- that the family used to keep food chilled --- as the docent pointed out Mrs. Wordsworth thought that she could keep things there for us to two weeks --- but by today's standards of freshness --- we might have different thoughts.
Thechildren's room which Dorothy had papered the walls with News paper in an attempt to keep the cold at bay, and you can read newspaper bits from the time! His sister lived with his family because at the time unmarried women didn't live alone --- of course Beatrix Potter broke that rule! The thing that seemed interesting to me was the role Dorothy played in Wordsworth's writing.
Wordsworth used her journals for his inspiration for his poetry. He apparently relied on her realistic entries as prompts for his poetry.
He wrote about the human condition unlike Byron who tended to write about adventure and affairs of the heart and of state with a bit of satire thrown in! While Byron outsold Wordsworth, Wordsworth will probably stand the test of time because of the subjects he chose to write about. In his bedroom his passport hung behind glass --- looking more like a letter of introduction --- it told of his travel to Italy and France. On the other wall was his appointment to be poet laureate --- with Queen Victoria's signature. He finally agreed to the appointment only if he didn't have to write on command, he believed he could not do that -- he had to have inspiration--- so ironically the whole 8 years he served as poet laureate he never wrote anything for the Queen. Early he had been against the monarchy and supported the republican concepts of the French Revolution. He had been in France for the storming of the Bastille....but he managed to escape being tried as a traitor --- the English aristocracy and monarchy feared that a revolution could start up in England!
Like all Englishmen he loved a garden and his garden was also quite lovely, but the rain and chill sent us back to the car and off to find our Bed and Breakfast. It was not far from Keswich. The wiry-spry older lady who operates it said she walks to town every day --- through the park she said, it only takes about 15 minutes! She was married to a farmer, but they sold all their land (she sighed as she recalled that.) In her back yard are a flock of sheep grazing in the rain! The mamas are sheered and they are not letting the babies eat. They butt them away, and occasionally one of the mother sheep butts another sheep away from the trough!
There was a lovely watercolor in the hall of their farm home. Apparently they had people stay there also. Originally there was only one large room upstairs for guests which had many beds in it. Later they divided the space up into rooms and now that her husband is gone she carries on the tradition in town. She pointed lovingly to the house, which had been built in the 1600s. The door was especially designed to keep the Scots from bursting in, and she demonstrated the technique they might have used. Then with a wistful sigh, she said, it was a lovely old house, but too much for me to maintain.
Tomorrow we will begin our trek to the Isle of Skye.
Evensong at Yorkminster
Sun spilled onto the carpet this morning this morning making a puddle of warmth for the first time in days. As I went to get the car a warm breeze carried the scent of mown clover and dare-I-say summer!? Summer was, however, short-lived since a front was moving in and it would be raining later. Cold maybe even gale-force winds from time to time by tomorrow morning the news said.
We drove into York and parked in the Shambles Car Park --- Got out the chair and headed into the old city. Our first stop was Jarvic Museum built on the spot where a remarkable archaeological dig was begun in the 1970s. Due to construction a treasure trove of artifacts from 900 B.C.E. was discovered. This was the time when York was occupied by Vikings from just across the channel in Denmark. Most of the artifacts were preserved in a peat bog-like conditions which made the fine even more rich and significant. Feces could be analyzed for diet, skin and bone preserved in near perfect condition!
The museum built over the site is a combination of Disney and experiential learning. There is a village that replicates the one of the time. It has been duplicated down to the fact that the people represented are reconstructions based on remains found in the bog. Not only are the buildings reconstructed --but the smells of the place are used to make the whole experience more real. Instead of Pirates of the Caribbean, we have Vikings of York......
We were ushered into a "time machine" that uses the same technique as a simulator --- a clever film of a young couple take us back through time --- initially it is decades-- through changing costume, but then it moves to centuries. When you arrive at the village --- you move through it (a la Mr. toad's wild ride) in monorail gondolas and see each workshop or home described in detail through speakers.
The people speak to one another in a language Jarvic (a language that sounds remarkably like Danish). The smell is acrid and somewhat unpleasant --- especially as you pass near the privy! There were 10,000 people living in York at that time -- which is a really astounding number ---if you consider the conventions that would have been in place for hygiene.
Trade was going on regularly in the area --- in Amber and other precious materials, as well as pottery, skins, and food. The docents were dressed in period costume and seemed to enjoy interacting with the visitors who after the journey through the village --- encountered them throughout the actual museum. One, a woman who was a "healer---witch," was especially interesting to talk to as she explained her costume and particularly the jewelry she wore which had a great deal to tell about who she was.
She said that at that time, she would have been important even to the lords for her powers with the Gods, and often would have been with an army during its campaign. Her personal God was Lokey, but she also worshipped Oden and a number of the other Norse Gods. Not only were the original artifacts displayed, but there were also replicas that kids could handle. It was a great museum to get kids interested in history...and archeology.
After the Jarvic experience, I left Kathy in a courtyard having coffee and headed over to the Castle museum. As I learned, it was never actually a castle, but was truly a prison. Part of the museum was closed since a new exposition was opening about the prison itself and was having final preparation for opening the next day!
One of the most interesting things in this museum was the preserved Victorian street including a horse and carriage hastening along. An entire day and night pass on this street, so as you walk along you can experience it at any time of day or night. It included a thunder shower in the evening. There were real stores along the lanes where you could buy reproduced articles from the time period. I went into the toy store and chatted with the proprietor. Every detail was accurate --even down to the Victorian cash register. The toys in the store he explained would only have gone to the wealthy --these would not have been toys for ordinary children. In fact children of the time would be working as apprentices in real world shops or on farms.
The second floor of the museum had homes from British history from the Georgian period forward. These were like windows into the past. They didn't have the depth of material that the Victoria Albert Museum had, but they made up for it in the realistic way in which things were displayed.
I also went into a small church which had been partially restored and had a huge piece of art work as its centerpiece. Then I picked Kathy up and began the walk toward the Minster where we were going to attend Evensong. We stopped and shared a sandwich and soup at a local eatery, and then continued out walk up the Shambles, a very well preserved Medieval street on which some of the buildings actually almost touch as they reach skyward. The "daub and beam" construction has moved over the centuries leaning out over the street as if to look down on and observe what is happening. The sidewalks all tilt in toward the center of the narrow street which functioned as a natural sewer. This tilt makes keeping the chair on the walk difficult, but the hill leading to the Minster is not too steep and the walk was quite pleasant as we encountered many things that are unique to this part of England.
The Minster is so big you cannot really take it in... You can't get far enough away from it. The square in front of the cathedral (though a Minster is the term applied here since it was a missionary church) is called Dean's square --- while I am sure it refers to the Dean of the Cathedral --- I like to think of it as My DEAN'S square! I wish he were here to see this place. When you enter the church you clearly see why it holds such importance.
There are volunteers who serve as docents everywhere --- the choir is clearly very active, entirely composed of men and very young boys, it sings every day at evensong and probably participates in a number of services in addition to this one. Upon entering the eye is immediately drawn upward to the Gothic arches high overhead. The weight of the structure is the equivalent of 40 jumbo jets on each pier.....it is an astounding feat of engineering that this place could have been completed in the 13th century.
The windows soar skyward as well with many panels of painted and stained glass telling the biblical narrative, but they are too far away to read clearly --- they only read as color for the eye. At the end of one transept is the rose window which clearly has the Tudor white rose and the Hastings red rose together in each section. The organ pipes are ornately decorated and there is a great organ console in the main part of the church with a smaller one in the quire (choir). Along the outside of the choir are the most important of those entombed in the cathedral, along with a list of all of the organists, and Deans.
The stone at the entrance indicated that the structure dates to 627 A.D. But when I toured the Crypt and understory of the church I learned that it was even older than that. The original building was a Roman Basilica (these were originally not holy buildings -- but were public buildings used to garrison roman troops. The Normans built over this basic structure, and then again it was rebuilt as the current Gothic Minster in the Medieval period. The museum below had artifacts from each structure and most interesting of all it was clear to see how the original piers were reinforced to make sure that they continue to support the weight of the stone for many years to come. There are stone rods and pilings that were added to each pier to help carry that immense weight and you see all these remarkable architectural details in the crypt. Many other interesting things reside there.
A Roman sarcophagus is on display showing that the burial customs of the time included a hole in the bottom of the burial chamber to allow gases and fluids to drain away during decomposition. Ingenious --- I guess the lid of the sarcophagus could pop off if there were no where for the gases to escape. Other interesting details --- that one would not know from above --- things like when the Normans conquered the area -- they took the remains of the Anglo Saxon saints out of the church....so after the Normans were gone, they put them back but this time in a used Roman Sarcophagus and they left them in the crypt. (St. Andrew -- I believe).
Also there was an exposed drain from Roman times that still functioned, figures and parts of the exterior which had been completely removed and replaced in 1998 -- due to the corrosive elements of air pollution, the chalices and silver used by the church over the centuries, and then of course the crypt itself -- with places to mediate and pray provided.
After we finished exploring the rest of the church we queued up for Evensong. It was a beautiful service, however, it bothered me that there were no women represented in anyway in the service --- It also bothered me that there was no place for the congregation to be part of the service (except in the recitation of the creed) NO HYMN, NO shared reading...everything was done for you....by clergy or choir....so as far as worship goes this would not have been worshipful for me. It was beautiful music and I must confess that I loved the psalms that were sung === (84&85) BUT worship cannot be done for you......I am a child of the reformation.
Another peculiar thing for me was (I assume they were sextons----) that men robed in black preceded and followed the procession of the choir. The carried a brass post with a ball on the end and a crown on the end of that.....they closed the doors and also preceded the clergy to the Bible for the reading of the scripture. The Bible sat on a brass stand in the center of the choir it was a great eagle that supported the scripture.....I personally like having a human hold it for the reading.
I kept thinking of Andrew and Don--knowing that this really is the sound and experience they both love in worship....The choirmaster even looked like Andrew but wore his robes and a hood (I do not know the significance of that either) It was strange to hear only men's voices --- and boys of course on the soprano and alto parts.
People did not sit for the postlude --- but of course I did --- I must say however, that Andrew is a better organist than the one who played for the service I attended. I am sure, however, that this was not the Big Cheese Organist!
When we left the Minster --- they were closing up the shops and it was starting to rain so I rushed us along the streets back to the car park.
The gentleman who helped us find the handicapped spot was still there. He greeted us and wanted to know if we had a good day --- I said FABULOUS.....he asked if I got lots of good photos. When I said I had, he said, give me your camera --- I know you didn't get this one -- I handed him my camera and he literally ran up the ramp ...and disappeared. For a moment, I thought, you idiot.....you just gave your camera to a stranger ---- we had been warned not to do that in Egypt and I thought for a a split second that maybe he was going to take it and keep it!
But in a minute or two he was back handing it to me --- with shots of the river Ouse with a boat on it and some of the city in the distance. What a kind thing to do for two strange old ladies! We headed back to the hotel stopping on the way to pick up some chips and sandwich meat. I was raining and pretty cold by the time we got back so instead of picnicking outside on lovely picnic tables, I picnicked in our room and we went to bed promptly-----though I read some more of the murder mystery that Kathy had finished which was placed in Cornwall in the village we had just passed through!
We drove into York and parked in the Shambles Car Park --- Got out the chair and headed into the old city. Our first stop was Jarvic Museum built on the spot where a remarkable archaeological dig was begun in the 1970s. Due to construction a treasure trove of artifacts from 900 B.C.E. was discovered. This was the time when York was occupied by Vikings from just across the channel in Denmark. Most of the artifacts were preserved in a peat bog-like conditions which made the fine even more rich and significant. Feces could be analyzed for diet, skin and bone preserved in near perfect condition!
The museum built over the site is a combination of Disney and experiential learning. There is a village that replicates the one of the time. It has been duplicated down to the fact that the people represented are reconstructions based on remains found in the bog. Not only are the buildings reconstructed --but the smells of the place are used to make the whole experience more real. Instead of Pirates of the Caribbean, we have Vikings of York......
We were ushered into a "time machine" that uses the same technique as a simulator --- a clever film of a young couple take us back through time --- initially it is decades-- through changing costume, but then it moves to centuries. When you arrive at the village --- you move through it (a la Mr. toad's wild ride) in monorail gondolas and see each workshop or home described in detail through speakers.
The people speak to one another in a language Jarvic (a language that sounds remarkably like Danish). The smell is acrid and somewhat unpleasant --- especially as you pass near the privy! There were 10,000 people living in York at that time -- which is a really astounding number ---if you consider the conventions that would have been in place for hygiene.
Trade was going on regularly in the area --- in Amber and other precious materials, as well as pottery, skins, and food. The docents were dressed in period costume and seemed to enjoy interacting with the visitors who after the journey through the village --- encountered them throughout the actual museum. One, a woman who was a "healer---witch," was especially interesting to talk to as she explained her costume and particularly the jewelry she wore which had a great deal to tell about who she was.
She said that at that time, she would have been important even to the lords for her powers with the Gods, and often would have been with an army during its campaign. Her personal God was Lokey, but she also worshipped Oden and a number of the other Norse Gods. Not only were the original artifacts displayed, but there were also replicas that kids could handle. It was a great museum to get kids interested in history...and archeology.
After the Jarvic experience, I left Kathy in a courtyard having coffee and headed over to the Castle museum. As I learned, it was never actually a castle, but was truly a prison. Part of the museum was closed since a new exposition was opening about the prison itself and was having final preparation for opening the next day!
One of the most interesting things in this museum was the preserved Victorian street including a horse and carriage hastening along. An entire day and night pass on this street, so as you walk along you can experience it at any time of day or night. It included a thunder shower in the evening. There were real stores along the lanes where you could buy reproduced articles from the time period. I went into the toy store and chatted with the proprietor. Every detail was accurate --even down to the Victorian cash register. The toys in the store he explained would only have gone to the wealthy --these would not have been toys for ordinary children. In fact children of the time would be working as apprentices in real world shops or on farms.
The second floor of the museum had homes from British history from the Georgian period forward. These were like windows into the past. They didn't have the depth of material that the Victoria Albert Museum had, but they made up for it in the realistic way in which things were displayed.
I also went into a small church which had been partially restored and had a huge piece of art work as its centerpiece. Then I picked Kathy up and began the walk toward the Minster where we were going to attend Evensong. We stopped and shared a sandwich and soup at a local eatery, and then continued out walk up the Shambles, a very well preserved Medieval street on which some of the buildings actually almost touch as they reach skyward. The "daub and beam" construction has moved over the centuries leaning out over the street as if to look down on and observe what is happening. The sidewalks all tilt in toward the center of the narrow street which functioned as a natural sewer. This tilt makes keeping the chair on the walk difficult, but the hill leading to the Minster is not too steep and the walk was quite pleasant as we encountered many things that are unique to this part of England.
The Minster is so big you cannot really take it in... You can't get far enough away from it. The square in front of the cathedral (though a Minster is the term applied here since it was a missionary church) is called Dean's square --- while I am sure it refers to the Dean of the Cathedral --- I like to think of it as My DEAN'S square! I wish he were here to see this place. When you enter the church you clearly see why it holds such importance.
There are volunteers who serve as docents everywhere --- the choir is clearly very active, entirely composed of men and very young boys, it sings every day at evensong and probably participates in a number of services in addition to this one. Upon entering the eye is immediately drawn upward to the Gothic arches high overhead. The weight of the structure is the equivalent of 40 jumbo jets on each pier.....it is an astounding feat of engineering that this place could have been completed in the 13th century.
The windows soar skyward as well with many panels of painted and stained glass telling the biblical narrative, but they are too far away to read clearly --- they only read as color for the eye. At the end of one transept is the rose window which clearly has the Tudor white rose and the Hastings red rose together in each section. The organ pipes are ornately decorated and there is a great organ console in the main part of the church with a smaller one in the quire (choir). Along the outside of the choir are the most important of those entombed in the cathedral, along with a list of all of the organists, and Deans.
The stone at the entrance indicated that the structure dates to 627 A.D. But when I toured the Crypt and understory of the church I learned that it was even older than that. The original building was a Roman Basilica (these were originally not holy buildings -- but were public buildings used to garrison roman troops. The Normans built over this basic structure, and then again it was rebuilt as the current Gothic Minster in the Medieval period. The museum below had artifacts from each structure and most interesting of all it was clear to see how the original piers were reinforced to make sure that they continue to support the weight of the stone for many years to come. There are stone rods and pilings that were added to each pier to help carry that immense weight and you see all these remarkable architectural details in the crypt. Many other interesting things reside there.
A Roman sarcophagus is on display showing that the burial customs of the time included a hole in the bottom of the burial chamber to allow gases and fluids to drain away during decomposition. Ingenious --- I guess the lid of the sarcophagus could pop off if there were no where for the gases to escape. Other interesting details --- that one would not know from above --- things like when the Normans conquered the area -- they took the remains of the Anglo Saxon saints out of the church....so after the Normans were gone, they put them back but this time in a used Roman Sarcophagus and they left them in the crypt. (St. Andrew -- I believe).
Also there was an exposed drain from Roman times that still functioned, figures and parts of the exterior which had been completely removed and replaced in 1998 -- due to the corrosive elements of air pollution, the chalices and silver used by the church over the centuries, and then of course the crypt itself -- with places to mediate and pray provided.
After we finished exploring the rest of the church we queued up for Evensong. It was a beautiful service, however, it bothered me that there were no women represented in anyway in the service --- It also bothered me that there was no place for the congregation to be part of the service (except in the recitation of the creed) NO HYMN, NO shared reading...everything was done for you....by clergy or choir....so as far as worship goes this would not have been worshipful for me. It was beautiful music and I must confess that I loved the psalms that were sung === (84&85) BUT worship cannot be done for you......I am a child of the reformation.
Another peculiar thing for me was (I assume they were sextons----) that men robed in black preceded and followed the procession of the choir. The carried a brass post with a ball on the end and a crown on the end of that.....they closed the doors and also preceded the clergy to the Bible for the reading of the scripture. The Bible sat on a brass stand in the center of the choir it was a great eagle that supported the scripture.....I personally like having a human hold it for the reading.
I kept thinking of Andrew and Don--knowing that this really is the sound and experience they both love in worship....The choirmaster even looked like Andrew but wore his robes and a hood (I do not know the significance of that either) It was strange to hear only men's voices --- and boys of course on the soprano and alto parts.
People did not sit for the postlude --- but of course I did --- I must say however, that Andrew is a better organist than the one who played for the service I attended. I am sure, however, that this was not the Big Cheese Organist!
When we left the Minster --- they were closing up the shops and it was starting to rain so I rushed us along the streets back to the car park.
The gentleman who helped us find the handicapped spot was still there. He greeted us and wanted to know if we had a good day --- I said FABULOUS.....he asked if I got lots of good photos. When I said I had, he said, give me your camera --- I know you didn't get this one -- I handed him my camera and he literally ran up the ramp ...and disappeared. For a moment, I thought, you idiot.....you just gave your camera to a stranger ---- we had been warned not to do that in Egypt and I thought for a a split second that maybe he was going to take it and keep it!
But in a minute or two he was back handing it to me --- with shots of the river Ouse with a boat on it and some of the city in the distance. What a kind thing to do for two strange old ladies! We headed back to the hotel stopping on the way to pick up some chips and sandwich meat. I was raining and pretty cold by the time we got back so instead of picnicking outside on lovely picnic tables, I picnicked in our room and we went to bed promptly-----though I read some more of the murder mystery that Kathy had finished which was placed in Cornwall in the village we had just passed through!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Cotswolds to York
Monday, the third day of our road trip --- was mostly hard driving. We took the M5 (equivalent to I 40 or 10.) Most of the way we could go 70mph. So we made good time. We stopped and bought food in Glastonbury and then went to see the Abbey. This is a charming British village --- which has been taken over by new age people --- seemed a natural fit since this ancient site was a holy site before Christianity.
Legend has it that Joseph of Arimathea came with 11 disciples in 64 A.D. and brought with him the grail. It is the legendary burial place of Arthur and Guinevere...and was the site of a magnificent abbey until the Abbey's were destroyed under Henry the 8th's reign in 1500's There are shops on every corner --- Man, Magic & Myth, Fairies Fun and Crystals! A young man dressed like a a peasant in the time of Arthur takes people through showing them the Abbey and saying things like the virgin birth is about the astrological sign Virgo and that the Christian holidays are really about the solstice......hmmmm...somehow I think the Benedictine's that established the abbey might have a thing or two to say about that. Too soon it is time to leave since we have to make our appearance at our bed and Breakfast in the Cotswolds by 5:00 p.m.
The countryside gave way to more densely forested terrain and we went through several small rain showers --- nothing like the other night though! We arrived in a village, Mickleton, near Chippingham Camden. It is difficult to find a place to eat --- they do not serve until 7:00 p.m. so we got out our picnic supplies and fixed a meal at the B&B. We ate at a picnic table in the garden. It is by my standard a bit cold to be eating out, but Kathy likes it on the cool side. Most of this trip I have been a bit cool....except of course in Egypt, Turkey and the Mediterranean. Tomorrow we will just journey around enjoying the villages of the Cotswolds.
Tuesday found us traveling from village to village. Bibury was my favorite. There are public gardens at a trout farm there which are stunning, and a magnificent old church building. Stanton and Witcombe stood next in favor. All of these places rely on tourism and this year, tourism is way down. So the streets were really quiet early in the day. We stopped at a bookseller to buy a book for me to read, and then had tea with a scone and strawberry jam at a little tea shop which was delightful .
These places are so old that many of them pre-date Christianity --- which came to the island via the Romans in the 1st century. It seems incredible that the buildings still stand and are occupied, not as museums, but as working, living places still. The rocks were well worn and had a yellow sort of liken that seemed to destroy the rock where they were growing on them. The old church yards surrounding the village churches have many markers too weathered to make out names and dates. The towns have buildings which were framed in timber and used some sort of material perhaps like adobe between. These are the row houses of Shakespeare's time and when we returned to Mickleton, I asked Stan about how they keep these buildings in repair. It is an expensive labor of love, and some things must not be touched -- like the timber houses --- as he said, "they have taken their shape naturally over the centuries and to disturb them or try to repair them would be like putting new wine in old wine skins --- it wouldn't work." Many of the roofs are thatched and they are covered with netting to keep the birds from nesting in them and pulling the thatch out. These often have a decorative design in the thatch just below the point of the roof and often have ducks or pheasants as decoration on the peak.
The sun passed behind clouds just as I found a Sainsbury's to buy more super glue for my sandal, and as I crossed the parking lot the sky opened up. I could not do without these shoes--but I have completely worn the bottom out --- I found the glue and walked out of the store whole again!
Because the temperature rarely goes much above 70 here -- the gardens and the plants are stunning. Foxglove, hollyhocks, honeysuckle so thick it is like a tree, geraniums, lobellia that grows like a vine out of hanging baskets, and Dahlias inhabit the gardens. As we drove along we saw many people in the act of tending their gardens. Truly, next to walking this seems like the national pass time. There are highway signs that are warnings for drivers to watch for the elderly! No kidding, and for the disabled as well.
We went across and had dinner at the pub -- the Kings Arms and found the food to be quite good and hearty. The place was packed. People were dressed up nicely and having good conversation. Something Stan warned us about ---- yes, these people were present in the moment! They didn't need Internet! I had a piece of steak --with a mushroom and tomato grilled and two onion rings. ...and the ever-present Chips! Kathy had a Chicken and pasta dish --- which she said was made with fresh pasta....so much for the stereotype of British food!
One of the interesting things about being in a B&B is that you get to visit with local people who tell you (if they like to talk) local history, their personal histories, and bits of what it is like to live in a country which is so much like our own, yet so different in many ways. Stan our host was one such man. He obviously loved his wife, Jenny, very much and missed her company. She has been gone for seven years and he speaks lovingly of her as though it was just yesterday. He is more than willing to answer questions and tell tales. He also dried my "pants" that is what they call panties here. Since we were going to be here two nights -- I figured it was now or never if I were going to have clean underwear! When it is this humid and cold -- it takes more than one night for things to dry. I carefully hung them in the bathroom, and when I got home --- he told me gleefully, "I dried your pants." --- and then he went the rest of the extremity and said (with a twinkle in his eye and hoping for a reaction), "I didn't sniff them though!" We had a really good laugh --- but I think my mother would have been mortified! I on the other hand was just glad to have clean pants (panties)! So many words here are different.....tires is tyres, boot is trunk, lorry is truck, loo is bathroom, dual-carriage way is a divided highway, bnagers(sausage) and mash (potato) but I have also see mash mean peas mashed up, biscuit is a cookie, bonnet is the hood of a car, Biker Crash Area --- means a spot where people on bikes (real ones not motorcycles) meet problems on the roadway, and that is just the beginning.....there's crisps for potato chips, and prawns for shrimp.....and hundreds of other words as well.
Wednesday morning we left for York, where we had hoped that we would find internet access, perhaps at wayside Costa -- coffee houses. These are a bit like Starbucks and are often at the off-ramps at service areas. However we learned today that when they are at a service area --they do not have free wi-fi! Only when they are in towns do they have wi-fi free!! Internet access here gets you coming and going. Libraries here also have internet, but you have to be there when the library is open, and so far our times have been after closing.
We got an early start and drove on to York --- where we had more difficulties with the B&B. After a LONG day (with only one touristy stop -- at Chatsworth -- a magnificent manor house) We arrived at our B&B. When I walked into the entry --- I noticed there were 12 steps up to the 1st floor --- where I assumed our room was. When I went up to check out the room --- I discovered there were another 7 steps to the room waiting on the landing ...Then there would have been a total of 14 more to and from breakfast and then 19 down to get out!! This just was not doable for Kathy. The kind man at the B& B did his best to get the travel agency to find us another place --- and when that failed --- he found us accommodations at a Ramada Inn with a Disabled room on the ground floor --- he even got us a special rate for the two nights which included our dinner the first night --- which turned out to be very elegant in the hotel dining room! Blessings on Mr. Lowrey! Without his help, I fear we would not have done well tonight. ........tomorrow we will see ancient YORK and attend evensong at Yorkminster!
Legend has it that Joseph of Arimathea came with 11 disciples in 64 A.D. and brought with him the grail. It is the legendary burial place of Arthur and Guinevere...and was the site of a magnificent abbey until the Abbey's were destroyed under Henry the 8th's reign in 1500's There are shops on every corner --- Man, Magic & Myth, Fairies Fun and Crystals! A young man dressed like a a peasant in the time of Arthur takes people through showing them the Abbey and saying things like the virgin birth is about the astrological sign Virgo and that the Christian holidays are really about the solstice......hmmmm...somehow I think the Benedictine's that established the abbey might have a thing or two to say about that. Too soon it is time to leave since we have to make our appearance at our bed and Breakfast in the Cotswolds by 5:00 p.m.
The countryside gave way to more densely forested terrain and we went through several small rain showers --- nothing like the other night though! We arrived in a village, Mickleton, near Chippingham Camden. It is difficult to find a place to eat --- they do not serve until 7:00 p.m. so we got out our picnic supplies and fixed a meal at the B&B. We ate at a picnic table in the garden. It is by my standard a bit cold to be eating out, but Kathy likes it on the cool side. Most of this trip I have been a bit cool....except of course in Egypt, Turkey and the Mediterranean. Tomorrow we will just journey around enjoying the villages of the Cotswolds.
Tuesday found us traveling from village to village. Bibury was my favorite. There are public gardens at a trout farm there which are stunning, and a magnificent old church building. Stanton and Witcombe stood next in favor. All of these places rely on tourism and this year, tourism is way down. So the streets were really quiet early in the day. We stopped at a bookseller to buy a book for me to read, and then had tea with a scone and strawberry jam at a little tea shop which was delightful .
These places are so old that many of them pre-date Christianity --- which came to the island via the Romans in the 1st century. It seems incredible that the buildings still stand and are occupied, not as museums, but as working, living places still. The rocks were well worn and had a yellow sort of liken that seemed to destroy the rock where they were growing on them. The old church yards surrounding the village churches have many markers too weathered to make out names and dates. The towns have buildings which were framed in timber and used some sort of material perhaps like adobe between. These are the row houses of Shakespeare's time and when we returned to Mickleton, I asked Stan about how they keep these buildings in repair. It is an expensive labor of love, and some things must not be touched -- like the timber houses --- as he said, "they have taken their shape naturally over the centuries and to disturb them or try to repair them would be like putting new wine in old wine skins --- it wouldn't work." Many of the roofs are thatched and they are covered with netting to keep the birds from nesting in them and pulling the thatch out. These often have a decorative design in the thatch just below the point of the roof and often have ducks or pheasants as decoration on the peak.
The sun passed behind clouds just as I found a Sainsbury's to buy more super glue for my sandal, and as I crossed the parking lot the sky opened up. I could not do without these shoes--but I have completely worn the bottom out --- I found the glue and walked out of the store whole again!
Because the temperature rarely goes much above 70 here -- the gardens and the plants are stunning. Foxglove, hollyhocks, honeysuckle so thick it is like a tree, geraniums, lobellia that grows like a vine out of hanging baskets, and Dahlias inhabit the gardens. As we drove along we saw many people in the act of tending their gardens. Truly, next to walking this seems like the national pass time. There are highway signs that are warnings for drivers to watch for the elderly! No kidding, and for the disabled as well.
We went across and had dinner at the pub -- the Kings Arms and found the food to be quite good and hearty. The place was packed. People were dressed up nicely and having good conversation. Something Stan warned us about ---- yes, these people were present in the moment! They didn't need Internet! I had a piece of steak --with a mushroom and tomato grilled and two onion rings. ...and the ever-present Chips! Kathy had a Chicken and pasta dish --- which she said was made with fresh pasta....so much for the stereotype of British food!
One of the interesting things about being in a B&B is that you get to visit with local people who tell you (if they like to talk) local history, their personal histories, and bits of what it is like to live in a country which is so much like our own, yet so different in many ways. Stan our host was one such man. He obviously loved his wife, Jenny, very much and missed her company. She has been gone for seven years and he speaks lovingly of her as though it was just yesterday. He is more than willing to answer questions and tell tales. He also dried my "pants" that is what they call panties here. Since we were going to be here two nights -- I figured it was now or never if I were going to have clean underwear! When it is this humid and cold -- it takes more than one night for things to dry. I carefully hung them in the bathroom, and when I got home --- he told me gleefully, "I dried your pants." --- and then he went the rest of the extremity and said (with a twinkle in his eye and hoping for a reaction), "I didn't sniff them though!" We had a really good laugh --- but I think my mother would have been mortified! I on the other hand was just glad to have clean pants (panties)! So many words here are different.....tires is tyres, boot is trunk, lorry is truck, loo is bathroom, dual-carriage way is a divided highway, bnagers(sausage) and mash (potato) but I have also see mash mean peas mashed up, biscuit is a cookie, bonnet is the hood of a car, Biker Crash Area --- means a spot where people on bikes (real ones not motorcycles) meet problems on the roadway, and that is just the beginning.....there's crisps for potato chips, and prawns for shrimp.....and hundreds of other words as well.
Wednesday morning we left for York, where we had hoped that we would find internet access, perhaps at wayside Costa -- coffee houses. These are a bit like Starbucks and are often at the off-ramps at service areas. However we learned today that when they are at a service area --they do not have free wi-fi! Only when they are in towns do they have wi-fi free!! Internet access here gets you coming and going. Libraries here also have internet, but you have to be there when the library is open, and so far our times have been after closing.
We got an early start and drove on to York --- where we had more difficulties with the B&B. After a LONG day (with only one touristy stop -- at Chatsworth -- a magnificent manor house) We arrived at our B&B. When I walked into the entry --- I noticed there were 12 steps up to the 1st floor --- where I assumed our room was. When I went up to check out the room --- I discovered there were another 7 steps to the room waiting on the landing ...Then there would have been a total of 14 more to and from breakfast and then 19 down to get out!! This just was not doable for Kathy. The kind man at the B& B did his best to get the travel agency to find us another place --- and when that failed --- he found us accommodations at a Ramada Inn with a Disabled room on the ground floor --- he even got us a special rate for the two nights which included our dinner the first night --- which turned out to be very elegant in the hotel dining room! Blessings on Mr. Lowrey! Without his help, I fear we would not have done well tonight. ........tomorrow we will see ancient YORK and attend evensong at Yorkminster!
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