Paddling on the Serpentine

Today was a better day. I tried a little toast and some fruit for breakfast and while I wouldn't say I felt great afterwards, I certainly felt a lot better than the other night. So. Joe's plan was for us to walk to Hyde Park/Kensington Gardens and stroll around. These gardens are basically behind Buckingham Palace whereas St. James Park is in front of it. Like St. James - lovely. We actually spent several hours there, although I'm sure Mike and Joe could've circled it twice but they matched my pace so it was a family stroll. We entered at the Hyde Park end, momentarily hearing a steel drum band, and then stopping to wander in a flower-laden garden. We moved on from there to the Serpentine, a small lake in the middle of Hyde Park. We each got a drink in this little cafe/kitchen and sat in lawn chairs looking out at the water and all the many geese, ducks, and swans for a bit. Going on from there, we passed the water-bird horde and watched while two parent swans chased all the other water birds away from their four cygnets as various people tossed them bread. Pretty fierce!

Joey realized you could rent paddle boats so we did that. It was fun, although I didn't have to do the paddling. It was mostly Joey; he's so good! Even though the picture makes it look like Mike paddled, too, he only did so at the beginning and the end. But Joey didn't seem to mind. In general, people really seemed to be enjoying themselves out on the water and all over the park. Lots and lots of happy dogs, too, some of them wet from retrieving sticks from the water. Two Jack Russells were having the time of their lives and one collie-type dog was carrying, not a stick, but a tree branch that was almost longer than she was. 

I was getting tired out but it was such a nice day, I didn't want to take the subway home (as we'd originally planned). I wanted to stay with my guys. Joey wanted to circle around to the other side of Kensington Gardens to see the Royal Albert Hall (a concert hall), which is right across from the Albert Memorial (erected by Queen Victoria when he died). Then Mike found us a route home, down Sloane Street and then some less-traveled side streets that took us through some interesting neighborhoods. Altogether I guess we spent about 4 hours walking around. I was pretty tired getting back to the hotel but was the only one who did not take a nap when we got back!

Mike and Joe went off to dinner again and I found a protein cereal bar in the local convenience store. By all accounts the dinner was very good. Very ironic that the only London meal I had was the worst one. I made the mistake of asking Mike to tell me about the dinner, which just made me pine for a happier tummy. Oh, well. At least by avoiding food, I could enjoy my day (and sleep at night). Tomorrow we have to get up at o'dark hundred to make our flight to Bologna, which requires getting a train from Victoria Station to Gatwick. Flight leaves @ 8:30 so we need to be at Gatwick at 6:30. We'll be wheeling our luggage down the road at 5:15 AM! 

A Day at the Inn

After last night's post, I got to feeling really sick. Just like I had been the day before we flew here. I won't give you the details but it was not pretty and lasted all night & into the morning. Needless to say, I was in no shape to go anywhere.  I managed to shower and get vertical by 9ish, at which point Mike and Joe set off for a long walk around the city (after having their breakfast here at the inn, which I did not venture forth for. Joe came back saying "bad sausage, watery scrambled eggs and 7 pieces of toast"). 

I was really sorry to see them go and to miss out on time spent with the two men in my life. Still, Mike took pictures to fill me in, and I know it was probably really nice for them to extend their long legs to the fullest for awhile instead of shortening their stride for me. They said they walked from where we are in Belgravia to the British Museum via Picadilly Circus, Covent Garden, & the Embankment.  While they were out and about I basically tried to get my stomach under control by staying near the bathroom and only drinking water or sprite (which my two heroes had gotten for me before leaving on their walk).  Our room has two nice, big windows overlooking the street so I was able to see people come and go along the road. There's a little coffee shop on the corner across the street and that made for good people/dog-watching (cocker spaniels sure are cute - and loud!). 

Eventually I found Whose Line Is It Anyway episodes on TV and Star Trek, too. As you can see, my day was *pre-tty* uneventful. The true highlight was when Joe and Mike came back (around 2ish) to spend the rest of the afternoon with me. They had walked and walked and were really tired, and so came back to check on me. We got hooked on a two-part Star Trek episode after which time I felt like a brief stroll would be nice. The weather is so fine here and the sunlight had been beckoning me all day. We took a short walk around the corner to the news agent/convenience store, where I bought some plain crackery things. I figure if I avoid food for the most part, I'll do better. The trick will be how to keep the energy up and the temptation down. I thought about accompanying Mike and Joe to dinner (Joe wanted Indian food) but I wouldn't have eaten anything anyway and who knows whether the smell of food would have made my nausea return or tempted me with forbidden fruit. Either way, best not to find out!

The thoughts for the day are: it's no fun being sick, it's even worse being sick abroad, but London is still great even when viewed through a window.

London Revisited (2009)

I never did finish blogging the London trip of last year. We were so busy those days and then when we got home I just couldn't quite hold on to everything. Strangely enough, we are back here this year - passing through on our way to Italy where we'll be staying with Mike's mom in Ferrara and traveling to other places in that country. We're here in London for just three nights and tonight is the first. This time we get to have Joe with us and that makes it extra special.

We flew from Phoenix this year so we could have a straight-through flight to London. The flight left on time, was uneventful, but *extremely* uncomfortable. I've never been so uncomfortable on a flight before. Does anyone think it might have something to do with being in the middle seat between long-legged men? 

Getting out of the airport and to Victoria Station on the tube took about two hours, I'd say. Finding our way from there was easy peasy because I'd printed the "walking" directions to our hotel. Once checked in, we all three collapsed momentarily (sharing a big bottle of water) and then deliberately roused ourselves to fight against the jet lag. Joe wanted to see Buckingham Palace, so we walked there and then through St. James park to the Horse Guards (who were sadly not in evidence). St. James Park was a favorite from last time and I could easily spend the day there with a good book. It's huge, beautiful, and there are all sorts of people to look at, as well as lots of different kinds of duck, geese, moorhens, pelicans, and black swans. We saw one woman feeding pigeons out of her hand, a lost seagull swimming on the water, and a squirrel eating a banana peel. Honestly, don't ever leave London without walking through this park!

We had a friendly debate as we walked along about whether the London Eye (big Ferris Wheel on the other side of the Thames) was actually moving. You can see it from the park. We finally decided (having gotten a bit closer by passing by Downing Street) that it was moving veeeeerrryyy slowly. I think you'd have great views from there but I couldn't convince Mike to do it last time. With Joe on board...maybe so?

By the time we were trekking back to "our neighborhood", I was a zombie. I had a flu bug or something before I left and didn't eat much on the plane either (lots of it was dairy and I didn't want to risk it). I just concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other; and Mike and Joe were kind enough to walk at my pace and/or wait up for me if they got too far ahead. We were looking for a pub (on Joe's wish-list) and saw that people throng the sidewalks of pubs here, holding their pints, presumably meeting up after work. We finally braved one when we got closer to our hotel - and it was *terrible*, well, except for the beer. We all got fish-n-chips and it came so fast I wouldn't be surprised if it was their version of "Mrs. Pauls". Ick. I ate about half - and avoided the stupid peas they insist on bringing it with it (I gather it's not real fish-n-chips without the peas). My head was in my plate half the time, I was that tired. Still, I think Joe was pleased to have gotten a Guinness and not be asked for ID (drinking age is younger here). We then slogged back to the hotel and have now collapsed with various injunctions to each other to *not* fall asleep. Mike has succumbed judging  by the twitching of his arm behind my back. Joey has a second wind and is reading, and I'm about to sign off. Be seeing you in dreamland. More tomorrow!

London - Day 1

July 8th (Tues) – Breakfast at our London hotel was the usual with one key exception. They had hot chocolate on the menu and when I ordered it, it came in its very own little pot! Unlike the instant kind I got at a few other B&Bs, this was the real deal and was an excellent way to the start the day. Also, the young woman who served us at breakfast was really nice and had a great smile. Although the hotel itself doesn’t really live up to its guidebook description, the staff have all been very pleasant.

After breakfast, we stuffed our dirty clothes into one suitcase and wheeled it down to the laundry we’d visited the previous day. We dropped it off and then caught the tube at the Notting Hill station. We gave ourselves some extra time to negotiate the tube to St James Park, but in the end, it was very straight forward. This meant we arrived ahead of Deb, who called to say she was running a little late. It was raining a bit when we got up to the street but it slackened off very quickly. Mike and I decided to head towards Buckingham Palace, which we found with no difficulty. It’s hard to miss although at this time, there was very little going on. We did take a peek at the guards on duty and there was a huge fountain out in front that was pretty amazing as well. In the end, we got a call from Deb suggesting we meet her at the other end of St James Park near Parliament Square. She figured we had time to kill before the events we came out to see, so this would let us get in a little more site-seeing in the meantime. It turned out to be a pretty long walk, but the gardens were lovely. There were all kinds of birds by the water – some little black ones that I didn’t recognize, a mama and two babies, that I later learned from Deb were Moorhens. They have the most ridiculous feet! And some water birds that were too big to be ducks, so I guess they must have been brown geese, and also some enormous white pelicans. Despite Mike’s misgivings that we were in the right place, we ended up at Parliament Square, which contains Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, and Westminster Abbey. Big Ben was very majestic, as you might imagine, but the Houses of Parliament looked very different than I had expected. They are neo-gothic type buildings and look almost church-like; with Westminster Abbey right there, it seems fitting.

Coordinating by cell-phone we managed to find Deb and Ali (short for Alistair) on the square. Ali is Deb’s blonde-ringleted three-year-old and is cute as can be. He was a bit shy at first but warmed up to us in no time. As for us, well how could we not be charmed by Deb’s son? As time was actually running short, we hustled back through the park to the Welsh Barracks near St. James Park to see the inspection of the guards; this happens every day before the guards march from the barracks to the palace to relieve the guards on duty. Although the events had already started when we got there, we were able to scoot right up to the wrought-iron fence and had a great view. There were many red-jacketed, tall-black-furry-hatted soldiers, some with instruments, so we got to hear some music and watch the inspection. A couple of mounted policeman arrived to clear the road for the march to the palace, and as the soldiers marched, we trailed behind. The peaceful square in front of the Palace that Mike and I had seen earlier was now packed with tourists, so getting a view of the actual changing of the guards was pretty much out of the question. Deb (and our guidebook) said it was fairly anticlimactic and not much to see in any case. Still, not to be defeated, Mike climbed up a decorative limestone wall (as had many others) – and Deb passed Ali up and got halfway up herself – to see what little could be seen. Not wanting all of London to see what would surely be an inelegant, likely to be unsuccessful attempt to scale the wall myself, I stayed on the ground and took photos of Mike and Ali and Deb.

From here we decided to head back to St. James Park (Deb’s favorite London park), where there was a children’s playground that Ali could enjoy. After he played a bit, it was snack time. Deb came prepared for things for Ali, so Mike and I went to a little snack bar and got tea for Deb and Mike and an orange Fanta for me. After this little respite, Deb suggested we head to Trafalgar square, which was part of a recommended walk that Mike wanted to take and also was a place that Ali wanted to go. We got to see other parts of the park this way, although we did stop to feed bread to the geese I had seen earlier. There were some great views of London from the park as well. On our walk through, we came across some topiary – elephants, deer, and other critters – although they were made from fake clover, not real greenery. They were pretty amazing even still and Ali ran around and under them for a few minutes before we continued on. We ended up walking out of the park, down Pall Mall (said "pal mal"), through the Marble Arch to the square.

Trafalgar Square is dominated by the statue of Admiral Lord Nelson that sits atop a huge pillar. At its square base sit four huge bronze lions, one on each corner. The area is actually roped off, but no one pays any attention to it and people were climbing up and sitting on them. This is not as easy as it sounds because the base of the pillar is really very high and the lions themselves are enormous. As Ali has a book in which the lions come to life, he was so happy that Mike managed to get up on the base of the pillar and from there to the lion; with Deb passing Ali up so he could sit with Mike on top of one of the lions. I was the picture-taker again because my little short self was no way going to make it up – even Deb, who is taller than me, had trouble and had to be hauled up by Mike.

After this, Deb and Ali headed home for Ali’s nap and Mike and I wandered a bit on the square, which contains the National Gallery and St. Martin-in-the-Field Church. Deb told us about a cafe in the crypt of the church, so we went to check it out but it was more food than we wanted to eat at the time. Mike pushed for continuing the guidebook-recommended walk, and so we kept walking down Whitehall Rd to peek down the street at Number One Downing Street, home of the Prime Minister. From the little I could see of it, it was fairly unassuming compared to the White House, for example. Kind of nice, if true. We also passed the Horse Guards (two), who were dozing on their horses amidst hordes of photo-taking tourists. The horses were so patient and good. It was raining off and on as we walked and by this time, my feet were sore and we were both ready for some tea. The walk ended up at Westminster Bridge and we sat on the steps and looked out at the Thames and the London Eye (giant Ferris Wheel) across the river. While resting our feet, I looked through a London brochure that I’d picked up at the hotel and found a tea shop advertised that was housed in the London Review Book Shop. As it was a ways away for tired feet, we hopped on the tube and found it, as we did most things, by accident – right near the British Museum. We had our tea and Mike had a croissant and I had a piece of carrot cake. We then decided to take in the British Museum for a little bit, as we were so close.

Words can’t describe how impressive the museum is. There’s is simply so much to look at that is phenomenal. Mike went straight for the Rosetta Stone, which when he had visited many years ago was stuck in a dark corner, unloved. This time it was the first thing you saw as you entered the West Hall – encased in glass, having its day in the sun. For linguists, this was a great thing to see. Next were Greek, Roman, and Assyrian statuary – topped off by the Elgin Marbles. In the latter room, there were pamphlets addressing the current controversy with Greece, who want their Parthenon ruins back. The British Museum maintains that they belong to the world and should stay where they are. Not sure I follow that logic as they could belong to the world in Greece just as easily as in England. In any case, they are extraordinary. Lots of people were taking pictures of the exhibits but Mike and I felt that many were taking pictures without really seeing what they were taking pictures of. Mike and I had similar mindsets for the museum, which was to read and look – getting our fill with our eyes and not our lens.

At this point, Deb called to set up a rendezvous for dinner later. As we still had our laundry to pick up, we decided to meet up at our hotel rather than have Deb come out to the museum. We took the tube back, picked up our laundry, and had just stowed it all away when Deb arrived. She and Mike had wine in the room and then we ventured out to look for a place to eat, where Mark (Deb’s husband) would join us. My little feet weren’t up for much more walking, so I was happy when we settled into a pub to have a pint and wait for Mark. When Mark arrived we switched to a little Persian restaurant that Deb and Mike had sussed out on our pre-pub walk. This turned out to be a gem. Our waiter was eager to give us a true Persian food experience and we had several tasty appetizers plus Naan before I got my chicken dish; this was chicken stewed in walnuts and pomegranate juice that you spoon over basmati rice. It was heavenly! On our way out, Mike stopped to investigate the pottery oven they were using to bake the bread. Our interest garnered the attention of the owner, who gave us a demonstration of how it works. There’s a sort of round pillow that the dough gets draped on after it’s rolled out. They then take the pillow with the dough on top and basically use the pillow to throw the dough onto the inside wall of the oven. The dough sticks there and cooks that way. The owner covered the hole of the oven with a small round metal lid and held it there to the count of seven. When he removed the lid, the bread was golden and bubbly and ready to be eaten. He scraped it off the wall and then put it in a bag and let us take it home with us – for free. It was a very thoughtful thing to do and made a nice ending to our evening out. We gave the Naan to Deb and Mark to take home for her mom and Ali and we all strolled back to our hotel, with Deb and Mark continuing on after that. That night we fell asleep full of Naan and other delicious Persian food.

Blenheim and to London

July 7th (Mon) – Today we woke to rain again. I didn’t sleep very well as we were on another small bed (Mike and I just don’t well on a double bed; we need at least a queen) and I’ve also had the sniffles. I don’t know if I’m allergic to something or if it’s just a low-level cold but I keep getting stuffed up and sneezy. In any case, we were the first people down for breakfast, so the tea room was quiet and breakfast (the same sort as always) was relaxing. We had planned to head for Blenheim Palace when it opened at 9:00, but when we asked our inn keeper, she explained that the grounds open then but that the palace itself doesn’t open until 10:30. As it was raining pretty heavily, there was no point in heading over to explore the grounds first, so we hung out in the room until it was near time. Then we checked out, loaded up the car, stopped at the Post Office to load up our phone, and then walked to the Palace.

Given the off and on nature of the rain, we had asked our inn keeper if we could drive up instead, but she told us that you couldn’t really get that much closer anyway. This turned out to be untrue, but the walk was nice enough as the rain was only a mist at this point. The grounds are huge – and there was a beautiful lake with lots of water birds in it. I think I saw a pheasant on the lawn, but I couldn’t get close enough to really know what I was looking at.

We had a short wait at the main entrance before they opened, but as it was covered, it was pleasant to sit and walk and look about the exterior. This is actually the home of the 11th Duke or Marlborough, who lives in the East Wing of the house. I have to say, it was pretty magnificent. Really elegant and we had an interesting guided tour. We learned that the first Duke of Marlborough had been given the title, the land, and the money to build the estate as a reward for defeating the French in the Battle of Blenheim in 1704. This was quite a victory for England and thought to have been a brilliantly fought campaign, and Queen Anne was not stingy in her gratitude. We actually got to see some wonderful tapestries that depict that victory and others as well (there are 10 in all but we only saw 9 as one was off to be cleaned) – and we got to see the actual dispatch John Churchill, the first Duke, sent from the battlefield to say he’d won. The only paper he had on him was a receipt from a tavern and he wrote his hasty message on one side of it. The family still has it and it is on display in one of the rooms. Unfortunately, photography was not allowed inside the palace, so I couldn’t take any pictures to remind me of the rooms there. As you might expect, there was lots of marble and, strangely enough, a lot of French furniture; the latter was apparently purchased by the 4th Duke (we were told that at that time, lots of the French nobility were unloading their furniture, which was why the Duke was able to purchase so much of it). Perhaps the most impressive room to both of us was the immense library that ran the length of one whole side of the house. The ceiling was amazing, really beautiful, and I wish I could have had a picture. Between the ceiling and the books, I know exactly where I’d spend my days if I lived in that house.

There have been 10 more Dukes since John Churchill’s time and the current Duke, No. 11, is in his 80s (and has been married three times; interestingly enough, there were portraits of Wives No. 1 and 3, but not of No. 2 – wonder what the story is there?!). Winston Churchill, although never in line for the succession, was born there and liked to spend a lot of time there, so there was a big exhibit about him at the palace, which was fairly absorbing. He was quoted as saying that he took two big decisions at Blenheim Palace: to be born and to marry (having asked his wife to marry him while visiting). After this, we strolled around the gardens (also commissioned by the 4th Duke and undertaken by Capability Brown, a popular and very talented landscape architect of that time) in the small window of sunshine we had. This meant that we got rained on going back to the car, but it was worth it to have seen the brief slice of the gardens that we did. If we’d had more time, I could have spent another several hours there.

As it was, we were already late to return the car in Oxford as we’d intended and although I called, there was no answer at the Oxford office and the main number didn’t seem to know how to handle our dilemma. So we decided to head out as soon as we could. I had looked up the general location the night before, so that got us in the right area. I knew we shouldn’t cross the river into the heart of the city and as we were coming to a bridge that would cause us to do so, we turned right for lack of an alternative. This turned out to be the right road and we found the car drop-off location by accident. However, we hadn’t gotten gas yet and so we passed it, went back to the main road, and ended up driving around for another 40 minutes or so looking for a gas station (we did get to see a bit of Oxford this way, whereas we had decided we didn’t have time for it before). Needless to say, we were a bit testy with each other and we finally decided that the best plan was to get back on the highway we’d come in on as there were gas stations on that road at various intervals (please don’t ask why we hadn’t gotten the gas on this road to begin with). Having accomplished this, we dropped off the car and I think Mike was very pleased to be done with it. He really did a LOT of driving and I’m sure it was tiring for him. For me, I’m glad to not have to look at another map and try to figure out where we should turn every ten minutes or so. I’d be willing to be that navigating the tube in London will be a piece of cake compared to this.

The train station was about a 15 minute walk from where we had dropped off the car and as we had a rain-free window, we walked it. We were seconds too late for a train just leaving (the whistle blew just as I was paying for our tickets) and so we had a half hour to kill before the next “fast” train. This was better than running flat out with our luggage as we’d had to do to catch the train to Canterbury when we first arrived, so I was happy to sit and wait. Although our train left promptly, it was delayed on the line “due to the lorry hitting the bridge in front of us in the Banbury area”; I can quote this because the subway driver said it many times with profuse apologies for any inconvenience this may have caused. They made the train wait until they had inspected the bridge for safety, so the fast train turned out to be no faster than the slower train that had left 5 minutes before ours. We got to London about an hour and twenty minutes later, which wasn’t bad at all really. It was pouring, though, so we took a taxi to our hotel – and I was just as happy since I was tired of lugging luggage through the streets.

Our hotel had been described in my guide book as “newly renovated and positively plush” so I was a bit disappointed at the actual look of it. Although I think it has been redone, it still looks as if it has seen better days. Also, our room was made up as a single (two twin beds) instead of one king. The little old man with very bad teeth at the desk was really nice, though, and he said they’d do it up that way the next day. Size-wise the room was larger than I expected, so that is the silver lining, I guess. Unfortunately, the tub/shower combo looked like it was left out of the refurbishment and could best be described as looking like a medieval torture device. It was permanently dirty, the shower curtain smelled sour and was mildewed at the bottom, and I was feeling like being stinky for several days might be better than using it. Still, when we asked where to find a laundry and a place to eat, our escort from reception was very helpful – and his directions turned out to be mostly right. We left to find dinner, but checked in at the laundry about hours and costs, and then went on to the Prince Edward pub for a beer and fish and chips. It had been a long, not so smooth day of travel, but we both felt better after a pint and a short walk around the area of our hotel, which is in the Kensington Gardens/Notting Hill area of London.

When we got back to the room, Mike discovered that there was only one towel for our showers next morning, so he walked down to the desk and was told they’d bring more up. When that happened, we also discovered that our friend Deb Kelemen had called us but for whatever reason they couldn’t put the call through. As we had forgotten to write Deb’s number down and didn’t have internet access at the time, we hoped she would call back. Another nice hotel man discovered that there was indeed a problem with our phone but they fixed it in short order – just in time for Deb to call back. We agreed to meet in St. James Park the next morning in order to see “pre-changing-of-the-guard” activities near Buckingham Palace, which are apparently better than the actual event. That night we fell asleep to the sound of London traffic.

To and In Woodstock (near Blenheim Palace)

July 6th (Sun) – Today we had our long drive back into England from Wales. We had another nice breakfast (more fresh fruit salad) and with clean jeans in hand, we set out early. Our route took us through the heart of Snowdonia and we were treated to some great scenery. There was one mountain that looked like it was made of slate (and indeed it was) and the black, tumbling skree against the green of the meadows made quite a contrast in color and texture. Plus, the day was overcast with big gray clouds to match the skree and low lying fog that covered the mountain tops. And, yes, sheep. It was really something.

We had planned to stop in Shrewesbury (medieval home of the fictional Brother Cadfael and pronounced "shrowsbry") and so we did, but it really started to rain and as I hadn’t really researched what there was to look at it, our brief, wet foray into the main square yielded nothing other than I can say I stopped there (and crossed the River Severn several times because we were lost). After this, we hit some of the bigger highways, which always put Mike to sleep. His tummy and mine were both calling for tea and a scone, so we eventually got off the big highways onto smaller ones that we’d actually traveled before as we had to cross back through the Cotswolds to get to our destination near Oxford. We were thus able to stop in Moreton-in-Marsh for what was probably our last cream tea – at a tea shop called “The Marshmallow”. It seemed to me to be the most authentic of all the tea shops we’d been to so far, but what do I know. It actually served loose leaf tea, which I had always understood to be the English way, but which we hadn’t yet been served. The scones were also the best so far and it really hit the spot, especially as we’d hit a lot of rain on the way. I’m sure Mike was glad for the rest.

Our stop for the night was in Woodstock near Blenheim Palace, which was only 30 or so miles from where we had tea, and is about 7 miles from Oxford. The B&B is above a tea shop in a building that’s 200 years old and stands right near one of the palace gates. Our room is perfectly fine, although it doesn’t look 200 years old the way they’ve done it up (but I think the bathroom must once have been the closet). After checking in, we went for a stroll around the town intending to wind up at a pub that our proprietress had recommended for dinner. After our stroll, we went there only to discover that they had stopped serving a few minutes before. It was 4:30. We then discovered that on Sundays, places are either closed altogether or they serve an early dinner and usually stop serving by 5. Luckily we found one place that was serving food all day, so we ate there. Mike really enjoyed his food (some sort of salad with chicken and potatoes and an elderflower dressing). My food was just okay. We split a dessert which had 4 different kinds of chocolate things – just little tastes. We thought the little creme brulee was the best. After this, we headed home in the rain. We hadn’t brought our jackets, so we had to huddle under Mike’s little umbrella but there were nooks we could stop in when the rain got heavy. We got home just a little bit damp and spent the rest of the evening just hanging out in the room. For the first time, we fell asleep without the sound of seagulls.

To and In Caernarfon

July 4th (Fri) - Breakfast at our Aberystwyth hotel was the usual. The unusual thing about it was that it was held in the basement even though they had a much nicer ground floor dining room that looked out over the ocean. We felt like we were dining at a conference venue and it was a bit chilly as well. Despite the less than cheery surroundings, the people were very pleasant. When we checked out, I remarked to the grandmotherly lady at the desk on the great view we had had from our room and she said, “I’m not one of those landladies that says there’s a view and then you get a sliver; if I say there’s a view, that’s what you get!” She was so cute!

I wanted to walk along the water before we left town, so we walked a little ways in the opposite direction from the night before. I still can’t get over how large the seagulls are here. They are really bigger than some cats and if one went head to head with Ernie, well I think Ernie would be the one to run away! I could have walked for longer than we did because I do love to watch the water, but at one point we ran out of sand and had to edge a long a ledge to keep the incoming tide away from our shoes until we could get back up on the street. After that, we decided it was time to get on the road, and our first stop was the National Library of Wales. Here there were supposed to be old books in Welsh, including the first one ever printed, on exhibit. When we got there, we were greeted by the security guard in Welsh (bore da or “good morning”; pronounced “boray da”). This boded well for a good Welsh language experience for Mike and so it proved, as everyone was speaking Welsh there. We later learned that those individuals who interact with the public at the library must speak Welsh, it being the – ahem – NATIONAL library of WALES!! (I had mentioned this to Mike when he remarked on the amount of Welsh we were hearing; didn’t come as a surprise to ME!). In any case, we saw an exhibit entitled “Protest”, which was all about various uprisings and other events in the interest of getting Welsh officially recognized, among other things. This included seeing the actual printing press used to publish the first book in Welsh. We also saw a photo journalism exhibit on life in a town formerly dedicated to coal mining, which is very poor now that the mining is gone; it was called “Coal Faces”. There was also quite a large “Costume” exhibit that showcased traditional women’s clothing in Wales. I think “costume” actually meant the types of drawings and paintings on show, which in many cases were really wonderful watercolors of women in various traditional outfits from different areas of Wales. They also had some actual clothes on display including the Welsh hat that many women wore, a type of man’s tall black hat (stovepipe?). Finally, we made it to the book exhibit, which ended up not having the books we came to see but the ones they did have were interesting to look at. According to one of the security guards, the books are rotated in and out quite frequently, so you’re not guaranteed to see any particular one at any one time. Still, we enjoyed the visit – and actually ended up having spent a couple of hours there, particularly as Mike (while waiting for me at one point) began talking with the woman who runs the gift shop, who told us a lot about the use of the Welsh language today.

From there, we went on to Devil’s Bridge, which we had passed on the way in. I really wanted to see it and Mike was a good sport and agreed to backtrack the 12 miles or so that it took to get there. Devil’s Bridge is actually 3 bridges built on atop the other with the oldest built in the 11th century by monks, the middle one in the 17th century, and then the modern one is the last. There are falls there as well (hence the need for bridges) and you can walk down many steps to see both the falls and the bridges, which we did. Both were really something to see. When Mike asked if I wanted to walk down all those steps, I said “how many chances do you get to see an 11th century bridge” and down we went!

From here on out, we traveled the route suggested by our nice Welsh restaurant owner of the previous night. This entailed going around several peninsulas on the coast with amazing views once again, but still quite different from what we’d seen in Cornwall. Here we were seeing lots of rivers that emptied into the sea, with long stretches of sandy beaches (in Cornwall they’re all pebble beaches) that had virtually no one on them. I ached to stop and walk along them but time dictated otherwise. Seeing the library and Devil’s Bridge meant we hadn’t left Aberystwyth until around noon, and at this point we still had a ways to go before Caernarfon. In the end we made time to stop for lunch in Barmouth (fish and chips and ice cream) and at Harlech Castle, but had to cut out Portmeirion, Porthmadog, and the Lleyn peninsula so we wouldn’t be arriving in Caernarfon later than we wanted to. Originally Mike hadn’t wanted to drive at night (and I don’t blame him) but it turns out that it doesn’t really get dark here ‘til after 9PM and sometimes not really dark at all. Also, Mike has been handling the driving like a pro (I’d still be a quivering blob of jelly if it were me), so it was more a question of not wanting to be so long on the road. Harlech was definitely worth the stop and we enjoyed rambling around the substantial ruins of the castle. Harlech is way up on a cliff and used to have the ocean meeting it at the bottom, so it was pretty much impregnable on that side. Now the coast is quite a ways away; and it amazed me to see how much the water has receded over the hundreds of years it’s been standing there (construction was begun in 1283). Many of the castles in Wales were actually built by the English (Edward I in particular) to control the Welsh, but some of them were captured by the Welsh to ward off the English (and back and forth more than once in some cases). We rambled about for an hour or so here and then finished our drive into Caernarfon.

Our B&B in Caernarfon was inside the original walled city, right near the Castle itself. In fact, at one time our B&B owner had stairs that led from her house directly onto the castle wall, but she had to take them down for repairs. By traveling round and round a bit in the car, we eventually found where we were staying, but we were back to narrow streets and no parking. We called our B&B to find out where to pack and the owner very kindly said she’d come out and move her car so we could park there. In the end, there was another space free by the time we made the loop back round and Mike had the pleasure (not) of parallel parking in a space the size of half a postage stamp on a street not much wider than that. After that harrowing experience, the B&B owner gave us two beers on the house! The rooms here were very nicely done and she’d clearly tried to think of every little thing that would make a guest feel welcome. The place was called the “Victoria House” but it was elegantly done and not at all frilly like you might imagine; our room was done up in reach creams and reds with candelabra-type lamps and a silky cream and gold duvet. Very comfy and nice to look at. The only thing was that she (and her mom, who was as cute and charming as could be) was not Welsh – we think maybe Irish. I think Mike would have been thrilled if they had been Welsh speakers but they were not.

After checking in, we mellowed in our room by splitting on of our beers and then ventured out to take a peek at the Castle and to look for food. In the end, we found most places were either closed or were serving heavier meals than we were in the mood for. There doesn’t seem to be places in the towns we’ve been stopping in where you can just get something light and/or something to take home. In the end, we got tired from walking around and our long day on the road, and opted to grab some snacks from the local “tobacconist” and head back to the room to finish our other beer. Back at our room, we could hear Ollie, the owner’s terrier, outside squeaking his little toy and that made me miss Ernie. I hope he’s not missing us too terribly and getting plenty of snuggles from Tracey. I fell asleep thinking of home.

July 5th (Sat) – Breakfast this morning had more options than usual and I ended up having a fruit salad with actual fresh fruit and some pancakes. The latter weren’t really like the pancakes I’m used to (they were small and sort of hard), but it was still a nice break from the usual selection of food. Mike had warm croissants and yogurt and muesli. On our way out after breakfast, we asked the owner where the laundrette was as I needed to wash a pair of pants (I’m not used to wearing a single pair so long and I wore both pairs I brought with me not realizing that when we do laundry, I’ll need to be wearing one that won’t get washed. Duh.) She began telling us how to get there and then said “Why don’t I just toss it in with my laundry? I’ve got loads to do anyway and you’ve just got one pair.” See? Nice people.

It turns out that if you walk the streets of Caernarfon, you can hear Welsh being spoken everywhere. It far outnumbers the amount of English you hear and you even hear very young children speaking it. Needless to say, Mike was in 7th heaven. THIS was why we had come to Wales and so the agenda for the day was simply to walk around and soak it all up. After all our driving, we were getting tired of the car and while a day in town meant missing nearby sites (like Anglesey and Conwy and other places), we needed the day to simply relax. As the weather couldn’t decide what it wanted to do, it rained in fits and starts and it was much better to be in the town – able to head to our room to get out of the rain – than driving in it or getting wet elsewhere. Our first stops of the morning were the two Welsh language bookstores that we had spotted the evening before. Neither of them carried the sort of linguistics books that Mike was looking for but he had fun browsing and in the second one we talked a bit with one of the young women tending the store – a Welsh speaker of course. She mentioned that by numbers, there are more Welsh speakers down in the South in the big cities in Cardiff and Swansea as compared to the North, but down there that’s only like 2% of the population, whereas here it’s like 80% of the population. She also mentioned that it’s the “ugly” villages that tend to have the larger concentration of Welsh speakers because the pretty ones get diluted by tourists who end up staying.

After this, as the weather was at that moment rain-free, we decided to take in the castle. Turns out it was Veteran’s Day for the Welsh (the Royal Welsh Fusiliers) and there were big doings at the castle. We were still able to go in and wander around, but surrounded by all sorts of soldiers in uniforms of various types – young, old, mostly men, some women. We could also hear military bands playing at various points, and although it was a bit crowded for me, it was a fitting background for a visit to Caernarfon Castle. At one point, a Spitfire (?) – an airplane – strafed the castle several times in salute, I guess, and the first pass was so sudden and loud that even one of the seagulls on the castle wall was startled enough to fall off the wall! It was funny to see that even seagulls can be startled enough to consequently look very silly. Caernarfon Castle was also built by the English to subdue the Welsh, I think by the same builder hired by Edward I to build Harlech. It had more of its bits and pieces intact than Harlech and was also substantially larger. Lots of things to ramble about on and I spent some time imagining what life would have been like living in such a place and in such a time. As with Harlech, there were great views from atop the castle walls and towers out to the bay and beyond. Joey would really have liked all these castles and I know he and Mike would have enjoyed taking them in together – racing up and down the towers. Maybe there’ll be a next time and circumstances will allow Joey to come along. I don’t know if he would like the amount of driving we’re doing and the pace might be a bit slow for his tastes, but I’m sure he’d love to take in the history.

After our visit to the castle and because it had started to rain again, we went for tea at a really charming little tea shop we’d also spotted the night before. We had tea, but instead of scones, Mike had parsnip soup and I had a garlic-mint chicken salad. Something different and quite welcome. From there, we walked around some more, stopping at a gift shop or two, and making our way to the waterfront back towards all the Veteran’s Day activities. We caught the very tail end of some sort of parade and got to hear the band play a teensy bit before that was the end of all of the events. We headed back round towards the water, found a dry bench, and watched the bay for a while before going back to the room for a rest. Dinner was at a nearby pub, where almost everyone was speaking Welsh, so Mike was as pleased at the end of the day as he was at the beginning. Bedtime brought a few more squeaks from Ollie. I miss Ernie.