Scotland - Day 4 – The race to get back

After a lovely evening overnight in Fort Augustus we had to make our way back to Aberdeen for our flight. We knew we had to make at least one more Scotch Distillery tour so we planned our route through the Speyside region. A few days back we drove past the idyllic Glenlivet Distillery and it was on this we set our sights. We passed back up through along the west side of the Loch and of course did a few select caches. It was again another beautifully clear day and made the loch drive all the more memorable. We passed through Inverness, picked up a teacup and dish, and made tracks for the winding roads of the Speyside and Cairngorms. We truly loved driving through this area. You can tell it has fallen victim to heavy logging over the decades due to the abrupt line of dense forest against barren hill face. We passed through a tiny valley with a single house sitting in the corner of two pine forest covered hills. There were two kids playing in the backyard of this house with the pine forest covered hills starting not more than 50 feet away. A perfect playground. Not far away from Glenlivet we saw a sign for a 15th century castle and we were obliged to stop. It turns out this castle is on the Glenlivet smugglers trail. Yes, the trail is a smugglers trail, for smuggling scotch whiskey specifically. The castle is called Drumin Castle and was owned by Alexander Stewart, the “Wolf of Badenoch.” We noticed how the immediate area was easily defendable- situated in a remote valley on a steep but short hill and surrounded by two rivers. Historians think there were fortifications there since the Iron Age, but The Wolf’s son built the current crumbling castle in the 1400s.
Only 5 minutes away was the Glenlivet Distillery and we of course took the tour. Before the tour we tried some of the Glenlivet infused vanilla ice cream; very delicious with sweet bits of malted barley and perfect for a milkshake. Glenlivet’s tour and facility is more polished than Cardhu and unlike Cardhu, the tour covered a lot about the smuggling of whiskey throughout Scotland in the 1800’s. Glenlivet Distillery was perfectly situated in the remotest part of the Cairgorms, especially in the winter, so it was easy to distill without law enforcement intervening. Glenlivet took its name from the river that supplied the water for the distillery, the Livet. We got out of the tour at 5pm and we only had 3 hours left till our flight and we were a ways away from Aberdeen. Leaving this part of Scotland behind, we hoped we would be back and for much longer.

Scotland

Scotland - Day 3 – I know Nessy’s out there. I just know it.

We made good on our promise and drove back to Braemar. The weather was quite unique-extremely windy, random blankets of blown rain and teasing moments of sun. A double rainbow greeted us upon entry into Ballater. Matt picked up a lovely brown wool hat. Our adventure continued on to Inverness, Fort Augustus, and of course, Loch Ness. No trip up north is complete without an attempt at seeing Nessy; water horses grant wishes if they let you see them, you know! We stopped quickly in Inverness and it was quite like other minor metropolitans-thriving pedestrian centric shopping laden downtown. Some Subway in the car and off we went. Once through Inverness you can tell the North Sea is just stone’s throw away. Inverness sits at the top of Loch Ness so it took no time to drive down the west coast of the Loch and stop at the Loch Ness Exhibition and Information Center. It would seem that any visitor center or learning experience about Loch Ness would be a tourist trap but this place wasn’t particularly so. Yes, the gift shop was about 2000 square feet of chachkis but the educational part was, believe it or not, educational. A group of people were escorted through various rooms that explained, through Disneyland means, the different stories and facts of the Loch Ness hunt. Remembering some of those facts this far past it is proving difficult so we suggest you just visit yourself. However, I do like the idea that the Nessy tale was started by a sighting of a North Sea sturgeon who in the early 1900’s made it’s way, by accident, into the Loch during mating season. Beckie particularly liked the idea about the mirage effects the high wind and atmosphere can have on the wind whipped waves. After taking some opportune photos at the center (see photos) we moved onto to Urquhart Castle for some caching and Scottish rebellion lessons. Urquhart Castle sits on a bluff overlooking Loch Ness and played an active role in the Scottish uprising against the English crown. There are just ruins now but are a magnificent tapestry of regional strife against a mystical legend. We left Urquhart in our rear view mirror and continued down the west coast of Loch Ness with the intent to finish in Fort Augustus. We HAD to do some caching along the way and of particular note we found a cache that was a man made tree fungus. Beautiful! We made the mistake of going off path for another cache through some bracken. Well, don’t do that in the autumn because ticks of all sorts are out in force, we emerged from the trail COVERED in them. It took us 45 minutes of tedious clothes shaking and picking at each other like monkeys to be confident we removed them all.
Fort Augustus is the entry point of the Caledonian Canal into the southern Loch Ness. The town is quite small and quaint. It took a while to find our B&B but we finally did-a nice house in the woods. Love it. Dinner found us traversing through Fort Augustus during sunset; we watched the sun slip behind the five locks and stars ignite in the sky. A lovely and leisurely dinner and off to slumberville—just like me after posting this.

Scotland

Scotland - Day 2 – The Games

The host at our B&B was hopefully to serve a full Scottish Breakfast in a kilt. Well, he didn’t. Oh well. He was fantastically welcoming, however, and ran a great operation. This was the day of the Lonach Highland Games at Bellabeg (home of acting personality Billy Connelly). Bellabeg was close. For locals, this meant a Land Rover ride through white water rapids, spearing Highland Elk and drinking 60 drams of scotch. Bellabeg is a tiny town in a small valley of the Highlands and this was the place to be in a 50-mile radius. The Highland Games had a slight county fair feel due to the many truck vendors stationed throughout the grounds. Not knowing what to expect and wanting to ensure good views of the caber-tossing, we bought our tickets ahead. Although very enticing the “Meat on a Stick” truck did not quite whet our appetite. We took our seats and watched the games. The games had multiple events happening at the same time on the same field. There was Scottish dancing, piping, hammer tossing, a fun run, tug-o-war, weight toss, caber-toss, long jump and sprints. Notice: lots of tossing. Of course, no good Scottish warrior would be without whiskey on the day of a battle. So in the morning, the Lonach Highlanders set off marching through Bellabeg, enticing the residents to give them drams of whiskey as they made their way to the field. Around 1pm the games welcome the marchers into the arena and to our bewilderment at least 200 men in kilts and bearing spears enter the field to the accompaniment of their bagpipe escorts. Needless to say, they are a little full up on drams, especially one elderly gentleman who passed out directly in front of us. The oldest marcher was a 97-year-old. After two circuits around the field, the Highlanders dispersed and the games carried on. Overall, the games had a deep community spirit and emphasized the importance of familial ties (see picture of little boy in kilt). The rain came and went and supplied a stereotypical backdrop for what to us seemed to be a very successful visit to our first Highland games. The games ended in the afternoon and we decided to drive over to Balmoral but unfortunately the Queen was in residence so it was impossible to get close. The town next to Balmoral is Braemar- a small town but definitely catering to the tourist. We stopped in a hotel pub and reminisced upon the day’s events, making the decision to come back here in the morning. Beckie is always on the lookout for additions to our tea service and there were a few shops here that would be open then.

Scotland

Scotland - Day 1 - Look at all the lonely scotch barrels.

We’ve been waiting to take a Scottish holiday and finally the time had arrived….via a 7:25am flight out of Heathrow to Aberdeen. However, we would have to wait a little longer since our flight was delayed by an hour and half. It was a perfect day for flying since the approach to Aberdeen presented a spectacular view of green countryside and the Highlands and Heather in the distance. The airport was empty and we breezed to the rental car facility where, once again, I was eager to take on the UK driving adventure. Beckie, as usual, had a whole plan worked out for our visit; we burst out of the rental facility gates on our way to find some Pictish Stones. The first stop was at a shell of a church about 15 minutes into the Aberdeen countryside. The Pictish stone dates back more than 2000 years and was located inside the church shell. Despite being exposed to the elements and a lot of relocating, the stone carvings were still very clear. The church and yard were located on a quiet hill overlooking a serene, subtle river valley. The sun lit the landscape like a painting; it was perfect and very fulfilling. We could’ve stayed there for hours but there was more to see.
Our next stop were some more Pictish Stones in a town we’ll just call the Niles, OH of Scotland. It was a small town and seemed very working class. We opted to stop for an early lunch in a local café where the drink of choice is IronBru. Let’s see, how to describe IronBru… imagine Tang irradiated with Americinium and packaged like Coors Light. EVERYONE in the café was drinking it. Needless to say, we did not try it because Beckie feared for the safety of her unborn children and I don’t drink liquids that would phosphoresce under UV light. The town had a Pictish stone in the middle of a suburban green space and could easily be missed. In the middle of modern tract-like housing there was a millenniums old stone observing the suburbanization of its holy site. We passed through this town with the intent to make our way to Ballater in the Highlands, but our enthusiasm and excitement had us wanting to chase every historical marker sign we saw along our drive. One in particular caught our attention: “The Maiden Stone.” We screeched off the A-road and careened down the B-road a few miles to a tall stone vertically perched on the side of the road. The carvings on it were magnificent; it was only us and a few cows hanging at the site. Oh, and a well hidden geocache. We declared no more stopping because we had some distance to drive but we weren’t sure how long it would take. Well, that was abandoned once we entered Malt Whiskey territory. Instead, we decided to make every attempt to get ourselves to a whiskey tour. Afterall, this is what Jameson hates the most…whiskey made by the Scots (the proper way). Success was met at Cardhu and we managed to get a spot on the last tour of the day. Cardhu is the single malt supplier to Johnny Walker and one of very many distilleries owned by Diageo. Initially, Cardu was illegally distilled and founded in 1824 by Helen Cumming and sold to Johnny Walker and Sons in 1893. With some samples consumed and a bottle of the Reserve purchased we finally made the push to Ballater. Driving through the Highlands was beyond imagination. The weather was perfect, the heather abundant, and the locale dream like. Despite modern advances the area seemed preserved in a cleanliness only known prior to the industrial revolution. I’m sure that’s not the case but purity overwhelmed us. Maybe it was the smell of the fresh rain, the pines, and the purple heather sea but it was truly magical. We passed by the Glenlivet Distillery and quite magnificently they were malting barley. The steam rising from the malting barn filled the entire valley with the smell of scotch. Beyond that a drive full of climbs and brake-torturing declines brought us to Ballater and our B&B: where a completely different experience awaited us.

Scotland

Ireland in 5 days: Day 5, Galway girls... and guys

After a filling full Irish breakfast and some confusion regarding the bill ending with Matt going off to look for a cash machine, we began our drive back to Dublin (the quicker way). Before setting off in that direction, we once again attempted to appease me and find a bloody teacup. Now, it is important to note that I had become so consumed with this that I was very tempted to ask the B&B owner if I could buy one that we had used at breakfast. Given the confusion with our bill and discussing what ‘wireless internet’ meant, I decided not to bother. Unfortunately, this teacup hunt would only lead us to a charity shop in Galway where I purchased a lovely teacup... that was made in Czechoslovakia. It’s fine! It’s fine! Let’s get it and gooooo!!
There wasn’t much time to stop on this drive back to Dublin despite it being a shorter journey. What’s amazing is how many ruins you can see just driving along the way. Take a peek at our pictures and you’ll see what I mean.
Once again, Matt raced us back into the car rental parking lot at the airport, not before stopping in the town of Swords for petrol. We checked in for our flight and enjoyed one last drink in Ireland at the airport pub/cafe. And back to London.
Next time I think we'll stop in Waterford for a crystal teacup!!

Wales & Ireland

Ireland in 5 days: Day 4, Southern tour

Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey! This day could have won an award for ‘most sites sighted.’ Instead of travelling the direct route from Dublin to Galway which would have taken about two hours, we had mapped out a 7- to 8-hour route that took us south toward Tipperary, Cork, and Dingle. Sadly, we didn’t get as far as Cork and Dingle, but we did see:
The Curragh. Wow, with a name like that, it was bound to be a sight! Well, not really. It’s basically a pretty field best known for battle scenes from Braveheart. But wasn’t he from Scotland? Yeah. As we drove along attempting to find the Curragh, we came up to a long line of traffic and having spotted some orange cones up ahead, we thought we ought to turn around to avoid construction. We found a different route to bypass the construction. However, when we finally came to that area, we realised that what we thought were orange construction cones were actually someone’s sheep! They had been sprayed orange (owners do this to tell whose is whose). And the delay was simply all of these orange sheep crossing the road to the other field. What a sight!! I dare say better than the Curragh.
A few pictures and we were back in the car to make our way to the Rock of Dunamase. This is one of the few ‘free’ sights on our journey and it’s actually one of the most historic in Ireland. First settled in the 9th century, the castle was built in the latter half of the 12th century. I think I can speak for everyone when I say, it was one of the most enjoyable and beautiful sights we encountered on this trip. I strongly encourage a look at pictures.
By this point, we thought it was about time for a pub stop. We popped into a lovely and certainly ‘local’ pub. Just a swift half with the three locals in the pub and we’d be back on the road. Next on the agenda was the Rock of Cashel. Also known as the Cashel of the Kings, it was the traditional seat of the kings of Munster for several hundred years prior to the Norman invasions. While we did have a look at the outside and followed the ‘path of the dead’ a bit, we opted not to spend the money to go in. Instead, we had a lovely traditional lunch at Ryan’s Daughter cafe. It was the perfect warm and cosy setting since by that point it had begun to rain again. When our food came out, we knew we had chosen well... each plate only had the colours of the Irish flag: green (peas/celery), orange (carrots/yams), and white (mash) along with whatever meat dish we had chosen. Grande.
Irish spring is a maker of soap, tour-guide grandma was a seller of dope, at Castle Cahir, I did hear, the hung them both by a rope.
As you may have inferred from that bit of talented writing, Matt Metras began entertaining us in the car with some spontaneous limericks... After all, we were headed for Limerick. We didn’t stop in Limerick, but Matt Metras did recite one of his own as we drove through the city.
One last sight to see on our drive to Galway and this was definitely not to be missed. The Cliffs of Moher in County Clare are a well known tourist destination, but certainly one of those that really should be seen. Matt whipped the car along the winding and dipping roads through the rain in a frenzy to get us there before dusk. Once again, we defied death and made it just in time. Despite a few moments when I could feel my fear of heights getting the best of me, we managed to snap some really amazing shots of the cliffs and the sea far below.
We reached our B&B in Oranmore, a small town outside of Galway. We quickly dropped off our bags and went out in search of supper. Despite the size of this town, we found an incredible Indian restaurant. It was the most delightful Indian food I have EVER had. Once full and noticeably exhausted, we went back to our B&B and, as Metras said, “... to our surprise, there were no wifis, so we snuggled up cosy and warm.”

Side note: No where along this 7-8 hour drive was there a place to find a teacup. Foiled again! Tomorrow is another day?? Maybe?

Wales & Ireland

Ireland in 5 days: Day 3, Temair na Ri, Newgrange, and the power of light

I had really been looking forward to the itinerary for our third day of this trip. This would be the day we were visiting the Hill of Tara [Temair na Ri]. Ah, that magical, faerie-inhabited hill of the ancients. Seat of power of the High Kings of Ireland. An archaeological complex near the Boyne river. An altogether beautiful field of perfect, Irish-green grass with wisps of buttercups.
With all the wind and tiny, unidentifiable insects attaching themselves to our clothes for shelter, it was easy to keep the mystical world of the faeries in mind. To enter the site, we passed through a cemetery (of course, finding a geocache as we went along) and made our way over the hill, passed the Stone of Destiny (I had thought about putting my feet on it to see if it would roar, but reconsidered as it might be a bit embarrassing), and through the circling mounds. Glorious. At the bottom of the hill are a few very interesting, prickly trees. There had to, just HAD to be another geocache hidden amongst the thorns and twisted roots. During the cache search, we also came across the ‘faerie tree,’ a place where visitors could leave gifts for the faeries. Apparently, most people found it appropriate to leave trash attached to the tree as a gift. We opted not to add to the rubbish, but said a few kind words of thanks and allowed those little insects to remain sheltered on our shirts until we got back to the car.

Next stop was Newgrange, a passage grave built during the Megalithic period around 3200BC. This too felt to be a magical experience (to me!). When waiting for our tour, we even saw a double rainbow!! That was definitely a favourable ancient omen, wasn’t it? Yes, I’m sure it was.
Our guide was a wonderful storyteller; she explained that though referred to as a passage grave or tomb, no people were actually buried within the mound. Instead, it was thought they used it for ceremonies for the dead, a kind of passage for the soul rather than the body. The tour included a journey through the short, narrow passage (even I had to duck at times) into the small chamber topped with slabs of heavy stone and earth. Admittedly, I was a bit timid given my claustrophobic tendencies. I persisted and was happy I did. Once inside, our storyteller went on to describe what it was like for those ancient peoples. The tomb is absolutely barren of all light, not a flicker of daylight reaches the inner room. In fact, the only time light enters the tomb is during the Winter Solstice when the passage is perfectly aligned with the sunlight of dawn for exactly 17 minutes. This was thought to be the only time a soul could pass from the physical world to the Afterworld. Our guide recreated this dramatic experience for us within the tomb with a string of modern light bulbs. It was easy to feel the enchantment and mystery this must of induced in a time when the sun was still a deified presence.

It was difficult to leave this wondrous mound, but being the last tour of the day, the site officials were eager to hurry us out. The storyteller had certainly peaked our interest by mentioning other passage graves. These passages, however, were aligned to different times of the year. Northeast of Newgrange lies Dowth with a passage aligned only with the setting of the sun on the Winter Solstice. To the northwest, Knowth had two passages, but light only ever passes directly into the inner chamber during dawn of the spring equinox. At no other times of the year did light enter any of these chambers (kind of limits how often you could bury your dead, huh?).

We enjoyed the winding roads and caching possibilities on our drive back to the hotel. We even stopped briefly at the sight of the Battle of the Boyne (not much to see, but we did take a picture). Finally, we made it back to the hotel grabbed a bite to eat for dinner and... SUCCESS! We made it to the pool/spa/sauna/steam room in time despite having an in depth conversation with the attendant about swim caps and regulations. It was a lovely end to a lovely day. Ahhh....

Wales & Ireland

Ireland in 5 days: Day 2, Dubh Linn

We started the day with breakfast at the hotel, then a 45-minute tram ride into the city and straight to the Jameson whiskey distillery. We were among a 20- or so-person group for the first tour of the day. Before it began, the guide asked for volunteers to participate in a taste-testing session following the tour. The crowd was a bit slow to respond except, of course, for four of us who promptly raised our hands. Eventually, the guide coerced a few others into it. Perhaps it was the fact that it was 10:30 in the morning and not a typical time to have whiskey, but this was Ireland and there is no ‘wrong’ time for whiskey in Ireland! The tour was educational even if a bit ‘Disney-fied’ and certainly expressed their contempt for the Scottish whiskey makers. The tasting session at the end comprised of small amounts of three whiskeys: Jameson (Irish), Johnnie Walker Black (Scottish), and Jack Daniels (American). Our guide explained the differences in distilling each and attempted to guide us toward favouring Jameson. Of course, my Matt just HAD to complicate things by telling our guide his favourite whiskey was still Scotch above the Jameson. This would have been fabulous if it led to more tastings... but it didn’t.
We left the distillery happy we had had a full breakfast and made our way into the centre of the city for some geocaching, sight-seeing, and souvenir shopping (with a tea cup at the top of my list!). Geocaching was difficult given all the ‘muggles,’ but mostly successful. Sight-seeing led us to discover the questionable history of Dublin Castle. A castle? It looks like a castle and it was during part of its history, but only the Record Tower remains visible from the medieval fortification, even the battlements atop the tower were added in the 19th century. The ‘castle’ was also the seat of British rule in Ireland until 1922 after which it served as the temporary Courts of Justice for the new Irish Free State. Now, it’s mostly just a tourist attraction, though it does boast a newly refurbished conference centre and was used as “The Vatican” in the Tudors series. In the courtyard near the castle, we found amazing sand sculptures on display. Take a peek at the pictures to view the talents of the artist of the day. After a quick outside view of the castle and sand sculptures, we headed for a nearby geocache. This would be a special cache because it would mark the beginning of the Metras’ geo-coin’s journey.
Saving the best for last, we headed for the town centre and the Temple Bar (of course, this doesn’t mean we didn’t patronise at least two other pubs throughout the day!). This pub was especially fun thanks to the live musician who took requests. Matt Metras requested “Whiskey in the Jar” to which the singer begrudgingly responded, “I’ve already done that,” but sang it anyway. Unfortunately, but entertainingly, he repeatedly sang ‘whiskey in jarK’ rather than ‘whiskey in the jar.’ And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t his accent.
Our energy was teetering out by the end of our sing-song (likely due to the amount of alcohol intermittently imbibed starting with our morning whiskey). Matt and I decided we should set off to pick up our rental car and Matt and Jess could go back to plan our dinner. On the way to find our bus, we stopped for another musical interlude from a street band, quickly picked up their CD, and tried not to fall asleep on our bus ride to the rental facility. With the car sorted, we arrived back at the hotel to find the Metrii and sort some dinner – pizza was the consensus! That should be rather quick, easy, and leave us some time to go down to the pool... NOPE! Missed it again! Ug.
Oh, and by the way, all attempts at finding a tea cup were also unsuccessful. I thought these islands were full of tea-drinkers. I guess tomorrow is another day...

Wales & Ireland

Ireland in five days: Day 1, Taxi, Ferry, Bus, Tram, Sleep

This was to be our longest day of travel yet for Matt and I. It began with an early morning taxi ride from St. David’s to the ferry port of Fishguard. Though it was ‘rush hour,’ we barely noticed any other cars on the road. We were sure to leave plenty of time to check in and find a comfy seat on board. Well, it was certainly enough because they weren’t even open when we arrived. In fact, we had to wait over an hour in the lounge area which consisted of a few hard plastic benches with a separate room for an abandoned snack-bar, two early 1990’s arcade games, and three other foot passengers. We eventually found our way on board and settled into our corner table with four attached-to-the-floor chairs. Luckily for Jess, it wasn’t too bumpy a ride. Overall, the 3-hour ride was rather uneventful though we did witness a giant Curious George propose to an older Irish woman with a gummy-ring (Wow, it was weird typing that sentence).
Once we docked at the Irish port in Rosslare, we waited another 30 minutes for our bus that would take us to Dublin. This time, it was a real bus and the ride wasn’t as harrowing as the one in Wales. However, it did feel a bit tedious and certainly longer than the 3 hours it actually took. We all dozed in and out as we wound our way up the eastern portion of Ireland through back-road towns until we reached the major motorway 50km outside of Dublin. We arrived in the city only to find more transport to take us to our hotel. It took an hour and a half to travel 4 miles on Dublins’s Lua Red Line. So tired...
By the time we had reached our hotel and checked in, we all decided we would rather just have dinner at the hotel and tuck in for the night. Tomorrow would be another day and we wanted to be rested for our adventure in the city. Perhaps, a bit of time in the pool/spa would help relax us. Well, maybe it would have, but it wasn’t happening for us that night! It was closed by the time we gathered ourselves and our swimsuits. Yep, tomorrow would be another day...

Wales & Ireland

Ireland in 5 parts...er, days: Day 0, Wales

In addition to my affinity for the Queen, anyone who knows me well will likely know that when I travel, I like to pack in as many things as possible, especially historical landmarks. Therefore, we decided to make the most of our time and see a little of Wales along our way to Ireland.
We began our trip via train from Paddington station (think: Paddington Bear when he arrived from Darkest Peru). Our first taste of adventure came when we couldn’t collect our train tickets due to some credit card changes. Note to future self: always call the train company if you lose the card you purchased your tickets with. What seemed to us to be an easy “Matt can just go up to the customer service desk and collect them via his identity card” turned into “You must first call the security phone number and alert them to the change of card, wait for them to change it in the system, then come back to this desk where I will need to see your new card, your reservation numbers, and your identity card.” It’s a good thing we were an hour early for our departure because it took 45 minutes to collect the tickets. Ah, red tape.
Finally on the train, we chugged along through the English countryside toward Haverfordwest, Wales. Just one change of train, comprised of a manic dash across the tracks and down to the other platform, and we arrived at the tiny, rural train station by 3pm. We waited [somewhat] patiently for our bus to arrive which would take us to the lovely village of St. David’s. We had no idea of the exhilarating, sometimes death-defying, journey we were about to embark upon... and how travelling to St. David’s meant you should also be praying to him along the way. The bus was not so much of a bus as it was a glorified van, though it did have plenty of seating for the 8 passengers getting on. The driver masterfully (or fortuitously) negotiated the sharp curves, steep drops, and narrow lanes of the rural roads at a fear-inducing speed. Sometimes he stopped in the middle of a highway to pick up another passenger at some unmarked bus-stop. It was a strange ride, but about 40 minutes later, we were in the centre of St. David’s – home of St. David’s Cathedral, a site founded in the A.D. 580s by St. David (obviously), the patron saint of Wales.
We quickly checked into our hotel, which was just across the street, and raced down toward the cathedral to get our peek inside before it closed. As noted, St. David is the patron saint of Wales (apparently, I was born on St. David’s day and, therefore, should have been named Davina, but no matter). He was a native of Wales, was well-known for his asceticism, and was buried on the site of the monastery he founded (now the cathedral). Though the cathedral has now been around for hundreds of years in various versions, the city was just officially given ‘city’ status by the Queen in 1995 [NB: In the UK, you need to have a cathedral in order be deemed a ‘city’ – picky, picky]. St. David’s cathedral is certainly a grande and beautiful cathedral. I’m not sure any of our pictures convey its true personality.
After seeing the cathedral, we thought we might want to mark the day with a geogache or two. We soon realised that this would be nearly impossible without cellular service, but Matt Metras came to the rescue with his non-cellular-based GPS device. However, we still needed the phone to actually look up the coordinates. Eureka! I was so overly organised, I had actually written down coordinates of possible geocaches we could hunt for on the trip. Yep, it’s grande travelling with someone like me. ;) With a little teamwork, we found the tricky little cache and set out to find some food. Before the food, we found some very amazing ice cream. This was special ‘Welsh’ ice cream made with clotted cream and a range of liqueurs... mmm.
Real food meant pub and of course, it was quite yummy; between the four of us we had what seemed like a feast of ‘stick-to-your-ribs’ comfort food, perfect for preparing us for one last geocache. This one took us down a narrow footpath that followed a high hill/cliff down to the shoreline of the Irish Sea. The path was easy enough in the daylight, but proved slightly tricky as the sun set and the field became darker and darker. Sadly, the dark completely overtook us with yet another mile to go and we just couldn’t manage it. We made our stumble-trip walk back to the hotel and prepared for our trek to Ireland the next morning.

Wales & Ireland

The Metraeii visit

We’ve been looking forward to this for a while: The Metras’s visit! We planned to go to Ireland and Wales with them for a combined six day trip. Beckie took it upon herself to plan this trip in exquisite detail and no one seemed to have a problem with it.
The day they arrived I immediately took them into the city and marched them around the Kensington area. We stopped by Harrods and then meandered through Kensington and Chelsea. We walked to the nearest pub, The Tea Clipper and then up through South Kensington. We passed through Kynance Mews, Saint Mary’s Church and somehow found our way to the South Kensington station. I took them some bizarre alley route that didn’t quite pan out. They were quite tired at this point, since they didn’t really sleep on the plane, so we went back home. Then had some pies at the Red Lion.
We loaned them our membership cards for their tour around the city and let them enjoy themselves. Of course there was the obligatory stop at Crazy Homies for some tequila!
The day before we left for Wales and Ireland we all went to Windsor Castle, which would be Beckie’s first time as well. Along with visiting the castle we took a tour of royal kitchen. Let’s just say the castle kitchen was quite huge, well stocked and friggin' clean. The copper cookware was stamped with the initials of the palace it was originally made for. It was raining off and on so we took time out for tea at The Crooked House of Windsor…the Metras duo really liked it. We strolled through the rest of Windsor, did some caching along the Thames and made a quick stop for a pint, or was it a half, at The Royal Oak. We left the next morning for Wales and Ireland so made our way back to Ealing so we could have a relaxing evening.

Metraeii Visit

Cambridge

Next on the University tour circuit is Cambridge. It was kind of a last minute idea, last minute being about 2 weeks, and we only went for the day. As with most of the travels around the UK, we took the train up to Cambridge on a rainy morning. Amongst the many things there are to do in Cambridge (most of them being museums), we definitely wanted to go on a punt tour. We decided to go take the tour before 11am while it was still raining and keeping the hordes away. Luckily, right when we started off on the tour the sun broke out. The tour was strictly relegated to the River Cam through “The Backs.”
For those who don’t know Cambridge is a university town and the River Cam travels through the backs of the many universities whose property entails the river. The university properties are closed to the public, or walkable for a fee, and therefore the general public doesn’t get to see the picturesque landscape. The physical footprint of the universities is rather small so when traveling the traditional backs, one can easily pass through 10 universities. The tour guide was quite splendid and knew a lot about all the different universities and shared some delightful stories. One story is about the pranks of the mountaineering society at Kings College. In addition to climbing the bridges over the River, they fancied climbing the spires of the chapel and placing items on top. One year a traffic cone was placed on top of a spire and the college spent two days building scaffolding to get near it; the next morning, they found the cone on another spire further away. Halfway through our tour, many more people decided they wanted to be on the water. Unfortunately, the vast majority of them were inexperienced and playing bumper punts in the water. The schools along the water had private use punts the students could take out. It was nice to drift down the river and imagine going to university here. There was a definite school-town energy about but trumping all of that was the centuries of history these schools emitted. The sheer stature, architecture, and age of the universities conjure romantic images of college life. As we passed by Trinity College one of the many facts shared was it multi-billion dollar endowment.
After the hour-long punt we were dropped off at the Anchor Pub, where Hawking frequents and Pink Floyd used to play, and had lunch. The sun was out to stay and people were flocking for the punts. From there it was off to just explore the town. As mentioned, there are quite a few museums there and a lot of them catering to many academic pursuits, but we made the tough decision to steer away from them. Visiting one would have us wanting to visit all of them. There were plenty of people here on a Saturday so walking through the town market and center proved very entertaining and hard to not be in someone’s picture. There were a fair amount of tour groups floating about the city as well as campus visitors. We stopped into Mr. Simms Sweet Shop and picked up some munchies for the walk around town.
Although bicycle-centric, the town didn’t seem as nearly so as Oxford. Outside of St. John’s there was a small craft show where we picked up a small hand made milk carafe for our tea set. Unfortunately, all the colleges want to charge for walking their grounds but understandably so because otherwise their small campus would be hounded by flocks upon flocks of tourists. Unlike Princeton where on reunion weekend (comprising of over 60 years of reunions) their humongous campus swallows up everybody and doesn’t look the worse for wear.
We made a stop into a tea shop for tea, meh, and moved on to check out more nooks of the city. We were fascinated by the sheer size, design, and history of the chapel at Kings College so we made sure to stop inside. Construction on the chapel began before the War of the Roses and was completed by Henry VIII. It has the largest fan vault ceilings in the world and, like a proper university, had a complete demonstration on the physics of fan vaults. Also inside is an organ Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn donated with their initials all over it. Purchasing entrance to the chapel allowed a limited walk around the small campus. During our walk, we heard students talking about how broke the college is but despite that it certainly isn’t bankrupt on scenery.
After being funneled off the campus we strolled around the city some more and made sure to stop into some pubs-Baron of Beef, The Eagle and The Salisbury’s Arms. The Eagle was pretty special due to the RAF bar in the back (where WWII RAF crew burned emblems onto the ceiling with their zippos) and also Crick and Watson made their DNA announcement there. We made our own discovery that despite getting to town early it was getting fairly late and we needed to find our way back to the station. We weren’t sure how long it would take to walk the meandering mile plus through town to the station. Like most places we visit, we could’ve spent at least another day there.

Cambridge

Geneva and the Tour de France

Saturday - Although we were looking forward to a rare chance to catch a real-time glimpse of the Tour de France cyclists, we could have gone without such an early flight. At least we knew we’d have a full day in Geneva, rather than just the afternoon. What a hot day it was though! Upon arrival, we collected our free tickets for travel within the city. That’s right, FREE! Geneva has free travel for all visitors for the length of your stay. It’s a good thing because it’s quite the expensive city.

The first thing we did was purchase tickets for a riverboat tour of the Rhone. We opted for this rather than that of Lac Leman (Lake Geneva) since we felt we may be back in the area in the future and would do it then. After the purchase, we went to our hotel to check-in, then walked back through Old Town and to our riverboat docking point. The sun was sweltering. Fortunately, we found the Swiss and the French have been prepared for this weather for centuries – there were strategically placed, constantly flowing, free water fountains ready with COLD drinkable water. Fantastic!

The riverboat ride itself was a bit... unimpressive, but some of the views were nice. The disappointing bit was that you really couldn’t see the sights they had advertised because of the overgrown foliage. However, there were very few other places that would provide the amount of relief from the sun during that day. Not to mention, we weren’t really awake enough to endure loads of walking. It was actually a really good choice. We had to wonder if it would’ve been better to have taken the tour of the lake though...

For dinner, we stopped at an adorable crepe shop for some very yummy, savoury crepes. Unfortunately, we had to head inside midway through the meal as it had started to rain a bit harder than we could feasibly tolerate. The rain was much welcomed on the walk back to the hotel. On our way, we somehow came upon a huge, rambunctious techno festival. The streets were full of oddly dressed people and loads of rubbish strewn about. We felt slightly out of place, but it was fun to walk through nonetheless. Back in the hotel, we passed out almost immediately. Tomorrow was a big day and we weren’t about to sleep in!

Sunday – We enjoyed a simple breakfast and headed out to see an archaeological site of St. Pierre’s Cathedral we stumbled upon the day before. We had about an hour to see the vast remains of many centuries of religious heritage. The space under Saint-Pierre Cathedral contains the remains of the many churches that preceded the current structure: the oldest of these dates from the late 4th century, providing evidence of Geneva's pivotal role in the development of Christianity. After a hurried tour of the site, we headed to the bus that would take us to the border village of Veyrier, Switzerland. From there, we walked across the border and examined possible viewing points for the Tour. We continued walking through the French village and up to the “Telepherique Saleve” to purchase tickets for a later ride. Then it was back down through the country road and over the border to quickly buy some snacks and fill up our water bottle with the potable l’eau. I love those fountains! C’est mervielleux!

We chose a bit of roadside just after a curve with enough straight bits to have a nice view of the cyclists coming toward us. Matt took pictures as I shot video. There would be no time for hesitation or changing modes on the camera. First, the sponsors’ vehicles drove past, throwing samples, blaring music, and shouting in French through loudspeakers... for about two hours. Some of those thrown samples hurt and those people had really good aim! Then came the cyclists. They were going so fast it sounded like a swarm of bees! I had to take a few steps back just to make sure they wouldn’t hit me. They seemed fearless.

After the experience, Matt and I just took a few moments to reflect on what had just happened. It was quick, but it was amazing; the sheer number of them was almost overwhelming. The thought that this was just a short moment of their tour... just fascinating.

After the Tour, we walked back through the French village and up to the cable car ride. The ride itself took about 5 minutes or less. Frankly, that was enough for me – I wasn’t keen on the idea of dangling by two wires from that height. The views were fantastic and well worth facing my fears. Once on the mountain top, we strolled around a bit, watched a paraglider take off from the grassy edge, and took a short hike toward the neighbouring mountain top.

Back down on the ground, we took a short stroll through the Swiss village of Veyrier and hopped on the bus back to Geneva. We stopped at one of the few open places for supper (It was Sunday, you know) where we sat outside and were serenaded by a travelling band (see video). I felt as though we were in a film – as though the “Ratatouille” mouse was about to come out and serve my pasta. No mouse, but we did have a Vietnamese waiter who enjoyed practising his English with us. Just as we entered our hotel, Spain shot the winning goal for the World Cup and all of Geneva began shouting, honking, and setting off firecrackers. The celebrations, especially the car honking, continued until about 4am. Good thing we didn’t have to catch a very early flight in the morning!

Monday – Although we did have a simple breakfast in the hotel, we decided it would be better supplemented by Swiss chocolate. We were right!! We found a highly ranked chocolatier and made some very difficult decisions. This was necessary given the price and the available assortment. I think the favourites were the Champagne truffle (duh), the orangey Jaffa, and the rose-infused Bakara. They all melted as soon as they touched your tongue. Certainly my kind of way to start the day! After a delicious chocolate breakfast in a lovely park with an extraordinary view, we headed back to the hotel to check out and grab our bag. An ice cream and a short walk and we were back at the rail station heading to the airport.

We left Geneva (after a short delay at the airport and an impulse purchase of fondue chocolate) feeling satisfied. Unfortunately, the turbulent flight back including one or two dives was not as satisfying. Finally, we were home in London, safe on the ground with a little bit of Toblerone to spare.

For video - click here!

Tour de France

And it's all over

Not that I really followed football but no more Three Lions in the World Cup. We watched the game from home and could hear people in the neighboring houses shouting along. As we watched we completed a weekend of planning, updating blog stuff and getting a handle on a lot of photos. Had the opportunity to meet two friendly London born locals in The Rose and Crown last night. One of them I could barely understand his Cockney accent through his lack of teeth and yes he was born center city (apparently a prerequisite for Cockney classification). That aside, both were conversationalists and knew how to keep conversation going (I'm sure the bitter helped) even if the Cockney one randomly serenaded Beckie with songs of blue eyes. Love it. An exciting week ahead!

Trooping the Colour

I am a fan of Queen Elizabeth II. Most people who know me, know this fact. Given that, it should not be surprising that I would get up at 6.30am on a Saturday to travel down to Buckingham Palace, stake out my optimum vantage point, and spend 4 hours standing in one spot to #1. watch the Queen and some of the Royal family in a parade to Whitehall, #2. watch them come back and Her Majesty's guard salute her as they march back to the Wellington baracks, #3. enjoy the RAF flypast. One thought to sum up the entire experience: No one does pomp and circumstance like the English. No one.


The trooping the colour is a military ceremony dating back to the early eighteenth century when the colours (flags) of the battalion were carried (trooped) down the ranks so they could be seen and recognised by the soldiers. Since 1748, this parade has also marked the Sovereign's offical birthday. From the reign of Edward VII onwards, the Sovereign has taken the salute in person at the Trooping of the Colour. During the ceremony, the Queen is greeted by a royal salute and carries out an inspection of the troops (active military personnel). The official salute and trooping takes place at the Horse Guards Parade (Whitehall - near Westminster). I wasn't down there to see all of this. I opted to take a position at Buckingham Palace (the beginning and end of the parade route) in order to see the Royal family during the flypast. Next year, Whitehall.


Since Matt was in Cornwall, I went this one alone... and ended up speaking with some very interesting older ladies; one from Austrailia and a pair of old friends from Wales. Both conversations were interesting in different ways. One of the experiences I've enjoyed most here is having the opportunity to hear the stories of so many different people. For instance, the one woman from Wales and her friend described their journeys from Wales & Ireland to South Africa (for 30 years) and back to Birmingham. Fascinating.


All in all, it was a nice day out. And of course, I was able to see the Queen and wish her a happy birthday... even if she couldn't hear me. My only disappointment: no Prince Harry eye-candy. What? I have a soft-spot for ginger nuts.


For photos, click here.

For more info on the Trooping of the Colour, click here.

Where's Kernow? It's a long story!

Matt and I have really been trying to make the most of our time here and this weekend was no exception. It was a bank holiday weekend and the perfect opportunity to travel outside of London... but not tooo far outside. We decided to try Cornwall - the Southwestern most county of England known for being a bit of a rogue.

I raced home from work, threw a few more things into our bags, and we were off to Heathrow airport. Now I know you're thinking, why fly? Well, we didn't fly, but we did rent a car to drive down rather than taking the train. We rented a manual Astra (Matt felt right at home getting to use his left hand for shifting). A quick, initial stall-out in the parking lot and we were on our way...

Friday evening, we drove from London to the Bristol area with the intention of driving thru Cheddar (for cheese) and Somerset (for cider) the next day on our way to Cornwall. We decided to take some A-roads rather than the main motorway, with it being a bank holiday weekend and all. This was a good idea, but meant that signage was even fewer and further between. The signs that were there were often obscured by some shrub or other. Once we got to some bigger roads in Bath, we thought we were in the clear. That was, until we hit a confusing one-way intersection and Matt read "no entry" upside down and backwards and bailed left for safety. While I applaud his instinctive decision-making skills, we spent the next 10 minutes turning ourselves around and figuring out how to get back through the city. We finally arrived at our Best Western Bristol, made a quick run to the KFC in the truckstop, and continued planning the next day's drive.

Drives thru the English countryside are always beautiful no matter what the weather. Lucky for us, today was mostly sunny and the fields were full of vivid yellows and vibrant greens. The green in the UK is the most saturated, yellow-green I've ever seen; it's my favourite colour (and deserving of an extra "u" or two). Our first stop was a tiny cafe selling local cheddars and cider. This cheese and cider stop was followed by more cheese and cider... all the way down to Cornwall. We stopped in the town of Cheddar; that's right, the place that cheddar cheese is named after. We enjoyed a small tour and educational video of the last cheesemakers in Cheddar. Fascinating. Of course, no tour is complete without a taster session and boy, I wasn't about to miss a cheese-tasting session! We were met with an incredible variety of cheddar: smoked cheddar, chive and cider cheddar, port cheddar, mild cheddar, medium cheddar, strong cheddar, vintage cheddar, chili cheddar, and they're speciality, cave-aged cheddar. That was something! They have continued the tradition of aging cheddar in the naturally controlled climate of the Cheddar Gorge caves. You really could taste the difference and it was good! Our food-tour continued with some stops at a few local cider farms... of course, picking up a few jugs to take home. Unfortunately, we were not as successful in finding Devonshire clotted cream.

We eventually made our way to the B&B we had reserved (Hill Park Farm). Our hostess had written some directions from the main highway to the B&B. Her directions took us down two country lanes just wide enough for the car. Every so often there would be some extra space on the side in case you had to pull over and allow oncoming cars to pass by. It’s a good thing too because just as we came around a curve, we were met with a huge tractor coming right for us. We avoided disaster and soon were bringing our bags into our lovely room complete with a private entrance (one of those doors cut in half so the top and bottom open separately). Given our initial chat with our hostess and the loveliness of the room, I was eagerly looking forward to breakfast.

Breakfast was superb! Homemade bread, farm fresh eggs (they were laid just the day before at the farm across the street), local bacon and sausage, and homegrown veg. Truly luxurious. As we were finishing breakfast, I looked up just in time to see a tiny head peering down from the top of the stairs. Once he had Mum’s approval, the little boy bounced down the steps and immediately began showing Matt and I his homemade weapons collection including his bow made from a small branch, a shield, and a saber (wooden, naturally). We felt safer.

Our big plan for the day was to get up to Tintagel. The first thing we had to do was pronounce it correctly; it’s tin-tajel, not tint-agel. Tintagel castle has been a well-trodden site... Bronze Age peoples, Romans, and it even made it into the Domesday Book. Despite all of that, it is probably most known as the suspected birthplace of King Arthur. Therefore, it seems perfectly reasonable for the town to be covered with shops such as King Arthur’s Halls and Merlin’s Crystals. Though much of the castle has long been dismantled, the area was beautiful and the views were certainly magical. Since it was low tide, we ventured down the steep steps and rocks and into the few sea caves - including the mystical, magical Merlin's cave.

We decided to try to stop at one more English Heritage site. Restormel Castle, a 13th century circular shell-keep, is in remarkably good condition. It stands on an earlier Norman mound surrounded by a deep dry ditch. It is yet another fantastic sight that our well-used membership gets us into... if we could make it there in time! We pulled up with 15 minutes til closing and managed to talk our way into grounds.

Once we made it back to the B&B, Matt and I decided to tackle a walk before dark. It was about 2 miles going thru two very small towns and two cow pastures. The first challenge was finding the trail head. We’ve found the UK, in general, to have a poor record for clearly signposting directions. We finally found the trail at the back gate of someone’s farm. We trampled through two cow fields taking on a good number of nosey, yet panicky cows. We bravely avoided both electric fences and a small stampede - luckily, running away from us. Just when we were coming down our homestretch of road, we were met by some young cows... in the road... outside their fence. We were a bit confused, especially since this sight was accompanied by some of the strangest cow moaning I've ever heard. Apparently, the young cows sneaked through the gate while the farmer was picking some flowers for his wife (awww) and the mothers across the street were either mad or worried about their children (awww again!). Unfortunately, we didn't know how to help and certainly didn't want to drive them further down the road, so we just stood and stared until the farmer's wife came up the road pushing them back onto the farm. Never a dull moment!

The next day, we headed back to London, but certainly not on the most direct route. First, we made our way to Trethevy Quoit - a well-preserved, Neolithic 'dolmen' burial chamber. Quite the sight! And even more so since it's right next to a farmhouse. Another stop we had to make before going home was Bishops Nympton. Bishops Nympton is a very, very small village in the county of Devon; it is unremarkable and unimportant except that my Great-Great Gran was born there. We found our way down more narrow country paths and into the town centre comprised of a pub and a post office and a few thatched-roof houses. We decided to have a swift half in The Snare & Gin Trap... with no one else in the pub except the barkeep who was playing the generic videogame. He relayed that someone in the village was having a barbecue which meant the whole village was at that person's house. If not, they were at the beach. Unfortunately, we couldn't wait until 7pm when they were expected back to ask questions about my Gran's family. Regretfully, we continued our journey back to Ealing.

Relaxed from the weekend's leisure and engrossing serenity, I fell onto the bed and tried not to think about going to work in the morning.

For pictures, click here.

Cornwall Record

I went off to Cornwall to help some very talented fellows record a 3 masted barque for an upcoming movie. I can't say what movie at the moment but look for it in theaters. We stayed in the little town of Charlestown which is also where the boat's home port is. I'll let the photos do the talking but it was a fantastic experience filled with lots of sailing, English terminology and custom. Good time and good people.

London Walks

Just a quick little note. This weekend we came across a site advertising free guided walks around London sponsored by London 2012. The free walks were only on for the weekend. There were a lot of free walks up for offer: Old Westminster, Old Hidden Venice, Old Chelsea pub walk, and many more. Saturday we went for the London 2000 years of history which was fun but basically turned out to be everything we've done. Not a bad thing but a nice recap on what we've been afforded the luxury of doing. The picture above is from the ending location of the walk...Millenium Bridge. For Sunday we opted to meet up for the London History from Shakespeare and Dickens walk. The guide seemed like an actor but apparently was a history teacher. He did a stupendous job taking our large group around the city center to different locations. Most of the locations were where Shakespeare or Dickens visited and some of which Dickens featured. We were taken to a skinny dark alley way and theatrically read a passage from Dombey and Son which apparently describes the alley way perfectly. The rest of the walk took us by Guildhall, Smithfields Market, NewGate, St. Pauls and various small courtyards of Center City we'll never find again. A nice little weekend.

The Festival Day 3

We woke up and it looked like Sturgis outside. Apparently there was also a biker’s mecca going on today so needless to say the area was busy. We made our way to Old Hastings and secured a spot on a highway sidewalk on the road The Stag was on. After waiting about a half hour the drums started to echo from down the street and the crowd around us was electrified. Jack rounded the corner and it was a wall of green. Jack led the parade but right behind him were all the Morris Dancers from the Saturday. Some danced while marching, some stopped and did a show and others just marched. Everyone in the parade was heavily costumed and really really into it, it was fantastic. The pictures really are the best descriptors. After the parade passed our current location we headed over to Hastings High Street to assume another spot since the head of the parade was probably already starting down it. We managed to find a spot perched on some steps and out of the quick down pour that happened. Again, the parade passed through, Jack’s Morris (guys in white) dancing along and the rest of the parade a little less organized and tiny bit tipsy. The parade took a break for a little while for lunch, which was perfect because we were starving. A pub was selling bacon sandwiches in the street and we grabbed one and damn it was good! We hurried up to a pub grabbed a drink to go and enjoyed the passing sunshine. Oh, we also asked a one of the parade goers (Jack’s Bogies) to help add a little green to our faces. Mission accomplished! We took up a spot right alongside the parade route and watched the continuation of the procession to the hill. The parade was far less organized and most of the marchers had drinks in hand but it was all the more fun. After they passed we went up to the hill, watched the parade finish their march into the castle and then we headed back down into the New Town for a little bit. The actual slaying of Jack was at 3:30 and it was only 1pm so we wanted to grab some cash for the entrance fee to the castle. We got inside the castle and of course the atmosphere was festive with lots of people and lots of beer drinking. All the Morris Dancers were on a stage doing their routines in an attempt to entice the Jack, who was standing on a hill, to come down to the stage to be slayed. Pictures.

Hastings, Battle of Day 2

In the rain we took a 15-minute train to the town of Battle, yes, where the Battle of Hastings took place. This part of the country calls itself 1066 country because obviously this is where William the Conqueror tooled around during his invasion during the above year. There is a lovely walking trail that will take a person all over the area and stops by all the important 1066 locations. I think it may be a 2-3 days walk. The battlefield is inside Battle Abbey and since it was pouring half of the footpath around the field was closed. It turned out that was a good thing since my jacket became saturated halfway through. The battle itself is quite interesting, which William assaulting an exhausted but advantageously positioned Anglo-Saxon army. In short, if it wasn’t for the tricking of the Anglo-Saxon army it may have been a different story. I say that knowing it sometimes doesn’t take much to drastically turn a battle but history at this site makes it feel like it was a very precarious victory. As recompense for the battle William was instructed by the Pope to build an Abbey on the site. Yet, like most abbeys this was dissolved as well. Inside the church borders was a marker for the spot where King Harold was felled on the field. According to records the only way he was identified by his wife was by a tattoo he had, since his body was so severely attacked. The town of Battle built up around the Abbey as it was built and flourished. There was a very rustic and very old inn (The Pilgrim’s Rest) right outside the walls of the abbey where we took a rest and had some OK French onion soup. Before that though we went and grabbed cache #100 in a field outside the battlegrounds. My boot was almost sucked off by the thick mud, could’ve been interesting. We took a moment to check out the small town but there wasn’t a whole lot to do in the rain, plus we were soaked and little chilly so we made our way back to train. Nap time at hotel…then a quick rush up to the eastern hill above Old Hastings for a sunset shot. The park above Old Hastings felt a lot like like the Dover Cliffs park. It looked a few miles long and could easily take a day of exploring to cover. So much to do. We headed back down to Old Hastings center where the party was in full swing. Which mostly meant college kids drinking heavily and hanging outside of the pubs. Not really feeling it we decided to drop some coins at the arcade halls on the boardwalk. The rigged games are great but I almost won a bathrobe wearing meerkat stuffed animal. Tomorrow is the big day. The parade and brutal dismemberment of leaves pinned to a frame. Pictures.

Jack in the Green Festival Day 1

We’ve been looking forward to this for a long time, even before we decided to come over here. We’ve seen this festival on a few travel shows and it instantly appealed to us. The Jack in the Green festival is a celebration that involves Jack (basically a bush with a man’s face in it) who represents the spring and holds the spirit of summer. After three days of festing Jack is slain, after a parade, releasing the spirit of summer. Anyway, we took the train down to Hastings, where the festival is, and got there late in the morning. Our journey was to begin at Victoria rail station around 8:47am but quickly became 9:13am since the Southern Rail Line couldn’t find a driver for our train. Inconsequentially, every fold down tray for the seats made an awful squealing sound so we made sure not to sit at one in order to avoid the temptation. After a short wait we saw two rail workers escorting a chimpanzee down the track towards the front of the train; minutes later we were told they found our driver and we’re on our way. Trains may be a little expensive but what a wonderful way to get around. Hastings is another coastal town and is separated into New Hastings and Old Hastings. Again, Old Hastings is in a valley between two hills and the western hill separates the two divisions. Hastings is very much like a Jersey shore experience. There is a boardwalk, boardwalk rides, boardwalk gambling and boardwalk food. Upon entering Old Hastings the roads narrowed and many of the shops sported green leaves with red, yellow and blue streamers hanging outside. A display of Morris Dancing was happening near Old Hastings and that is one of the main things we wanted to see. Not that Morris Dancing is hard to explain but I think the pictures and videos do the job better. We really enjoyed watching the different themed dancers come and go and see the comradery amongst them. Throughout the day there were a few events scheduled around town but we really wanted to go to The Stag pub for their food and scheduled singing. The Stag was pub was down a road on the parade route and the road itself was decorated for the festivities. Interestingly, the sidewalks in Old Hastings rise above the narrow road and provided a great view of the parade. We arrived at The Stag early and found a seat but not too long after it started to fill up. Our two-person table was kind of in the center of everything and we quickly found out that we had to move for a quick show. Some Borderland sword dancers came in and did a little thing for a few minutes. It was awesome (see video). The pub crowded up, we ate our food, and listened to some of the folk singing coming from the other room. Everyone in the room joined in. After the pub it was time to explore the town and see what else was happening. Old Hastings High Street was where it was all happening and low and behold we found a mini beer festival happening in one of the pubs. Forcibly we stopped in and got some halves. I got a cider (Thatcher’s Cheddar Valley) that looked like tang and was hard to drink and Beckie got an ale (Cairghorn Howler). It was already 5ish by this point so we walked through the town some more and made our way up to the green on the eastern hill. On this hill is another Norman Castle, originally as a motte and bailey by William the Conqueror during his invasion. During the parade Jack makes his way to the castle where he will meet his fate. The sun set on the hill and we made our way down the other side towards New Hastings for dinner. The New Hastings town centre is definitely more of a modern town square with multiple streets closed off for pedestrians. The Morris Dancing was truly amazing and I never thought I would be so captivated by it, very English. Pictures.

Saint George’s Day

Next stop on the saint celebrations is George. Again, not much prepatory hubbub around this day either, it’s not like New Jersey where if it was a Jewish holiday everyone was bound to be off. I was in the city and found myself drawn towards music emanating from around a corner. It turns out it was a top floor flat flying a dozen flags of St. George’s cross and blasting royal processional music. There were 2 pubs on the corner with most of the patrons on the street yelling along to the songs. If I only knew the words. There were a few random guys strolling around in chain mail, helmets, swords and wearing St. George’s cross tunics. I left the area with the music still blasting and the pub goers still signing along. Neat.

Tower Hill (again) & Marathon

Ever since we got our royal palace passes we intended to go back to Tower Hill. We did so on the twenty-third. We alighted at the Tower Hill station to find we were near mile 23 of the London Marathon! Needless to say, it was very busy but a really great atmosphere. We found a spot along the route near the base of Tower Hill and watched the runners. What made it great was the majority of spectators energetically encouraging the runners as they pass. A fair amount of the runners were in costumes for various charities, for instance some were in Rhino suits for “Save the Rhino.” So spectators would call out “Go Rhino go rhino!” A legionnaire ran by with a laundry machine on his back; and a Yeoman Warder came out to clap. We made our way into the tower just to see a new armor exhibit and take a walk along the southern wall. 6pm came along pretty fast so we made our way out of the Tower and walked two miles down the Thames to Westminster. There were still a few pained Marathon stragglers making their way to the finish line near Buckingham Palace. Unfortunately, there were relegated to the Thames Path because the main roads were now reopened. Just another tourist like day for us augmented by a lovely surprise!

Canals & Religion

We hopped on an early coach after a wonderful full English breakfast and thirty minutes later arrived Canterbury. Our first stop was St. Augustine’s Abbey, (just outside city walls) founded in 597 under King Ethelbert by Saint Augustine. The site itself, like most abbeys, is demolished down to the flint core. Despite that there is tons of history; early Kentish kings were buried here and their gravestones remain. It was a drizzly, cold day to walk around the grounds but it made for few visitors. The grounds weren’t large but the splendor of the old abbey wasn’t lost. It was easy to tell how large the abbey became by the 10th century and one could only imagine the money they were pulling in. Obviously, the abbey was partially dismantled under King Henry VIII with all major stone going to other works and valuables being sold off, lost, or destroyed. The body of Saint Augustine himself was held there since his death with his coffin readily on display the whole time. Since the dissolution his body has gone missing.

In the early afternoon we made our way into the town, which still has traces of the medieval wall surrounding it. We took our time and walked through the narrow streets and took in the medieval surroundings. We decided not to go into the cathedral, but rather to explore more of the town and quickly hit a few pubs. The cathedral was walled and outside the main entrance was a tiny square where all the French tourists hung out. Plus, there were two milkshake shops in the vicinity; the shakes sucked. We realized there were small canals running throughout and slightly under the city but we just missed the last canal boat tour so we opted to explore the north gate area.

As with all medieval cities the north part of the old city had a gate that was expanded through the centuries and amazingly cars still drive through it. The gatehouse served as accommodations for guests and prisoners. It was time for tea so went to a small teahouse on the other side of town near the cathedral. The building itself must’ve been centuries old, easily Tudors. We sat upstairs and realized the building was leaning heavily to one side, so we leaned the opposite way. The rooms however were easy on the eye decoration wise and brightly colored. The waitress huff and puffed up the stairs to serve the tea, which had dust all over the service set! We laughed at it, wiped it off and enjoyed the experience. Another stop in a pub and a quick peak into the Canterbury Pottery to buy our obligatory tea set piece and we had less than an hour before our coach left for London.

It was about this time a metallic smelling fog rolled into the city. It was about 6pm so we figured the fog was natural and the smell of odd house fireplaces going. The cathedral was open to the public now so we stepped inside the grounds to take a look at the exterior of the building. The bells were going off for a while so I tried to record them; too many talking people around though. On the coach ride home we noticed the fog was all over the countryside and the sunset was a deep red, like a forest fire sunset in Los Angeles. Turns out it might have been smoke from the Icelandic volcano turning the sunset deep crimson.

It’s great to have these cheap yet culture-filled experiences, this is the main reason we came here. We’re very lucky to have the opportunity to do so. I never really guessed we’d be able to do something like this and actually manage a living.

Here are the same craptacular photos.

White Chalk

It was off to Victoria train station to catch an early morning coach down to the coastal town of Dover. For me this would be the first time in a while traveling on a coach, which to my recollection wasn’t too pleasant. The patrons at Victoria coach station had a sense of urgency but not an overwhelming manic crazed sense. The coaches were all lined up on a coach tarmac with eager passengers crowding to sit and wait. Thankfully the trip was less than two hours and it took us south through London, which was fun to watch.

The coach ride wasn’t bad at all and we were in Dover by 10am and dropped off a block from the B&B we were staying at. The B&B was a very large period house and very impressive inside and at the base of the hill Dover Castle sat upon. We dropped our bags off at the B&B, stepped outside, craned our necks upward towards Dover Castle and trekked up the “steep” side to the entrance.

Dover Castle is quite great; apparently it is one of English Heritage’s flagship sites so they’ve recently put some money into it. The site itself is quite large and contains the Norman keep with walls, church and defensive embattlements. The church is built right next to a partially standing Roman lighthouse and had a twin. The town of Dover is in a narrow valley, so if a tidal wave were to come it would funnel spectacularly into the town. The valley is cut into the chalk downs so there are “peaks” on either side of the town where the Romans built a lighthouse per side. The Dover Castle one is still standing.

It was a very windy and chilly day and being on top of the hill forced us inside the castle. Inside the castle was quite large and recently redecorated to early medieval standards. What was really nice about it was they had fires burning in all the large hearths. The smoky air permeated the cavernous rooms and halls making the experience all the more authentic. Surprisingly the fires made a considerable difference in the warmth of the rooms to where I took my jacket off. After a quick little sit down in a tiny, purple, stainglass-lit chapel we made our way down to the medieval tunnels of the perimeter defenses. These tunnels were dark, damp, and awesome! They helped defend the approach to the front gate and the mote and if I recall correctly they were used up until the 18th century. From there we strolled along the defensive mounded perimeter with the intent to take the tour of the WWII bunkers in the side of the hill. Along the mounded perimeter we came across a WWII era AA gun with the old Norman Keep towering over it in the distance. Obviously, this castle mount was used to defend and warn against impending Nazi attacks and invasion.

As we learned on the WWII tunnel/bunker tour they utilized 18th century tunnels or underground barracks (Casemates) from the Napoleonic Wars and in the 1940’s the government expanded the tunnels in order to house a HQ for the Normandy invasions (the Annexe). Unfortunately, there were no photos allowed but the tunnels were still decked out in vintage communication and computational equipment. The admiral’s personal rooms were in the white chalk right along the cliff face. We only saw a fraction of the original tunnels since a lot still has to be rediscovered and verified safe apparently. Overall, the tour wasn’t so much a tour as with a tour guide but more of a “guided” tour through amusement park like scenes where through props and audio playback a day in the life of the room was recreated. Nonetheless, quite fun.

Upon leaving the tours it was already near 4pm and we wanted to get over to the see the White Cliffs before the sun set since this was our only day in Dover. A local guide at the castle told us the easiest way was to descend down to the water front, walk along the “A” road and up into the National Trust Park. So we did, which took us down an old road lined with old haggard cottages, under an overpass and then up into the park. The park closed at 5pm but we were still able to roam around the grounds; which are quite extensive…in miles. We walked along one path that was about 8 feet wide with a sheer drop down to the shore bed…easily a few hundred feet. The sun was setting so it afforded me some photos of the White Cliffs, some long distance shots of France and a lovely walk along the down fields with a clear view of Dover Castle. Where of course we happened upon a cache. We could easily spend a day walking along the entire park.

Hunger was quickly becoming the dominant influence so we meandered off the hills and down to The White Horse pub, recommended by Marianne. The great thing about this pub is the writing on the wall. People who have swam the channel come here and write their names, time, date and route (E-F) on the walls. E-F meant England to France. The walls were filled. After a little dinner, another cache it was back to the B&B to pass out.

Here's all the photos.

Easter

It’s 12am and it sounds like a gun battle outside. Nope people are just celebrating Easter.

Bath Birthday Bash

Matt presented my birthday present in the form of coordinates in my card. I immediately knew that I would have to hunt down a geocache to find my present. The coordinates led me to a park bench. Inside the container, there was an anagram. Finally, I figured out it – Thermae Bath Spa. Awesome! We had been there before on our honeymoon, but I know we’d both love to go back anytime and repeatedly! The only issue was that Matt was on a project, so we had to postpone the trip until the end of the month.

It was well worth the wait. We took the train into Bath from London in the afternoon, arriving at our hotel around 1.30pm. The room was fantastic; truly a Georgian room fit for any loyal Jane Austen fan (because Matt loves me). Even the tea tray came with complimentary Sherry (I would have prefered Rum Punch, but I make do). After we settled our luggage, we opted for a little walk about before heading to the spa. We stopped into a lovely, but teeny-tiny tea shop and picked up a cup and saucer as our Bath souvenir. Now off to Thermae Spa!

Matt booked a lovely couples package including a very interesting session in a Kraxen stove, a couples massage, dinner, and a 4-hour “spa session.” The Kraxen stove was certainly something I hadn’t seen before; basically an apsidal-shaped pod just big enough for one person, lined with mesh bags filled with hay and chamomile. We were to each sit in our own pod, having been “sealed” in by the attendant, and enjoy the steam which seeped through the hay. It was different, but very relaxing and very effective. After our treatment, we relaxed with some herbal tea, then made our way to our massage. This was, of course, also very enjoyable and relaxing. I remember looking over at Matt as we were sitting with our tea and he had such a relaxed, contented smile on his face; I’ll never forget it. The pools and steamrooms in the spa are all supplied by the natural hot springs in the area. In fact, this would be the same hot spring that supplied the Romans with their baths, Aqua Sulis. With that added to the mindset, it is quite an experience to “take in the waters.” For dinner, I opted for the pheasant and I have to say it was an experience for me. If done again, I will definitely request a sharper knife and make sure I have plenty of time to avoid any possible pellets (from killing the poor bird). It was still hard to leave the lap of luxury even after our nearly 6-hour stay. Ahhhhh…. Unfortunately, we were both still a little hungry after our session, so we hopped into a Thai restaurant for some relatively healthy food. ‘Twas very yummy.

The next morning, we ate our full English breakfast (eggs, fried mushrooms, baked beans, bacon, sausage, tomato), packed up our things, and headed to Enterprise. Today, we were going off to explore the nearby countryside and Stonehenge. It just happened to be a beautiful, sunny day and the drive was fantastic. Stonehenge is pretty hard to miss, especially being wedged between two main highways. Despite the throng of people at the site, it was pretty easy to be amazed and captivated by the sheer size and positions of the stones. The audio tour was, as you may have guessed, very educational. Overall, the stones seem to be an ancient calendar of sorts; light coming through different arches and shining on different stones at significant times of the year. While we were there, we decided to purchase an English Heritage membership. This gets us into something like 400 sights across the country. We thought it was a good deal. It also meant we could get into two more nearby sites. We set off immediately…

Our next stop was “Old Sarum,” the precursor to Salisbury town and fortress built by William the Conqueror. It was very interesting to see what still existed at the top of this clearly marked hilltop fortress. We spent about an hour or so examining the flint core remains of the major buildings (the Tower, Great Hall, Palace chapel, and Royal toilets). One of the more interesting parts was the Cathedral foundation outside the fortress walls. What we see today has been there since they dismantled the building... in the 12oos! It pretty surprising even that much is left.

The last stop for the day was “Old Wardour Castle” (apparently, there’s a “New Wardour Castle”). The claim to fame for this castle, besides being a noble residence built in the 14th century with cutting edge architectural designs, is that it was used as Locksley castle in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Not to demonstrate my geeky side, but I knew exactly what scenes were shot here. I think Matt was both impressed and disappointed. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to listen to all the details provided on the audio tour since we had to get the car back. Of course, not without getting in a geocache… This one proved a bit difficult, but we succeeded. Matt then drove like the wind to get the car back on time. No minutes to spare.

For us, no trip is complete without a stop into a pub. We walked right into the most localist of local pubs, even being accosted by a local who laughed and said, “You’re in the wrong place. This pub is for locals.” Luckily, he followed this up by jokingly pushing some people aside and making a space for us. We enjoyed watching them banter back and forth, swearing, arguing, and then shaking hands at the end. Perfect end to a perfect trip. The train ride back was not so perfect. I was already a little annoyed at not being able to find another cache, but I was not expecting to be delayed by yet another person on the tube tracks... this one right in front of us! Just as we were pulling into a tube station to make a transfer, the train stopped and wouldn’t let us out. Apparently, there was someone on the tracks in front of our train… right there! Matt and I waited as we watched two of our possible transfer trains run past. Eventually, they removed the unharmed person from the tracks and we were allowed off. We finally made it home around 1am. What a way to remember a milestone birthday! Certainly, I will always remember that all the fantastic bits were because of my fabulous husband who put so much time and thought into planning it. You’re the best, baby!

For pictures from this trip, click here!

For more info, click on:

Thermae Bath Spa

Roman Baths/Aqua Sulis

Stonehenge

Geocaching