UK TRAVEL TALES CHAPTER 8

The day started early with a drive to the infamous Loch Ness. As most know the Scottish word for Lake is Loch and they have lots and lots of lochs...The day was sunny but a bit nippy, we kept hearing about how great the weather was for our trip and generally that was true. Beautiful Highlands rising on either side of the 1,000 foot deep lake and a large tour boat complete with a Scots narrator who would burst into songs about the Jacobites and their struggles with the English at the drop of a tam.

Our tour guide kept saying we could become millionaires if we got a picture of the cagey monster of the Loch so be on the ready. I was quite excited when I mistook a channel marker for the famed beastie. Well it was green and had a long neck...from a distance... Some of us brave souls sat in the open air top deck enjoying the breeze while our less hardy group stayed inside the warm interior of the boat complete with a "tea and snack bar" of course. But then they also were face to face with the entertainer. I now know why they wear the kilt when performing or shopping for that matter. Part of its gear is a sporran which is a traditional part of male Scottish highland dress. It is used as a pocket for the pocketless, but I just call it a man purse because they collected their tips in them.

After the boat tour, we drove about 23 miles along Loch Ness which is just not possible to capture with a mere picture.  The lock system in Scotland was quite interesting as they raise boats a total of 60 feet through a series of locks which resemble sideways gates. The boats slowly and lazily make their way up a few feet at a time to the top. After a short bathroom stop at a souvenir shop, I found a great Nessie hat complete with tail for Joseph. Actually I was quite fetching when I modeled it for our group and our tour guide insisted I wear it to dinner that night. It worked on so many levels and ages.

Driving along Loch Lomand (you know "on the bonnie bonnie banks of ") people on the left side of the coach faced a sheer drop to the lake. However the real death-defying gasps were on the right as our mammoth coach was approached by vehicles coming the other way. Six inches was generous and our skillful driver laughed as he easily cleared the obstacles. As he said "I'm bigger than them". Amen. A quick stop at a Lochside park to enjoy a wee dram of single malt scotch. Well when in Rome...Not too bad actually. Especially when paired with Werther's caramels and Scottish biscuits (cookies).

Arriving rather late, 7:30ish after a long day, we walked into a room at the Old English Hotel in the Lake District of northwest England that was sheer opulence. After the previous night's room of no frills, broken locks and hardly space to swing a golf club in Inverness, I now pen this missive sitting in a cushy robe and slippers provided by the hotel in the velvet armchair of my suite. I sip fresh Earl Grey and gaze out upon the water and the bevy of sailboats straining at their leashes in the gentle morning breeze. Sucks to be me right? Must be how Beatrix Potter felt as she wrote her Peter Rabbit stories looking out upon these same lakes, hills and sheep. Oh man the sheep-they outnumber the people I am sure. And they are delicious in a stew I must say..... to be continued

UK TRAVEL TALES CHAPTER 7

Apparently getting lost in Edinburgh is more difficult because, according to our travel guide, they pretty much invented the "grid system". That is, making squares rather than circles so one actually goes around the block and ends up at the starting place or at least that's my understanding. According to our adventure of getting lost in Edinburgh that thinking goes out the window when down by the waterfront where due to the nature of the coastline one does not have perfect squares to traverse.

 It was also in Edinburgh that one of my fellow travelers noted that my phone was not on "plane mode" thus racking up $75 in extra charges from roaming.  Ah well. Travel broadens your horizons including your cell phone bill.  I now digress to note some of the differences in spelling and meanings across the pond. Tyres (tires), take-away (take-out), diversion (detour), coach (bus), crossing the Firth of Forth into Fife  (I have no idea), caravel (campers) and my personal favorite Coos (cows). But then their cows do not look like the placid Bossie we are accustomed to seeing. These coos look like mini-buffalo with a lot of hair covering their faces. No doubt all that fur keeps them warmer on the windy highlands of Scotland.

Our morning stop today was at the ancient city of St. Andrews - home to "The University of St. Andrews" and the golf course of the same name hosting the British Open-both claiming to be the first of their kind in Scotland.  The University reminds me of U of M with the town and college buildings and dorms wrapped around each other, never clearly defining where one starts and the other ends. The golf course is one of five on the premises and it borders the ocean. That song of "Chariots of Fire" starts up in every one's head.

 Burt took over this particular tour immediately heading for the Starter's Shed. He was in search of a playbook for the old course that showed the traps, distances and best way to play each hole. He was willing to put down cash for this. Instead the "boys" in the shed were more than accommodating and gave him the book for free. We then proceeded to the shops. If there was not time to play a round, we could at least look like we could have. Hats, towels, tees, markers, shirts, etc., duly marked with the St. Andrews logo became resident in our carry-on. The grin on his face was wide as we motored away. This was the whole trip for you wasn't it I stated.  Yep.

Blair Castle was the next stop and we opted for tea (no milk please) and scones instead in the inevitable snack bar rather than wandering another castle or the "spectacular garden". Yeah well.  Enjoyed a pleasant half hour with our tour guide and then perused the gift shop. Where we found another Joseph treasure "A SLIDE WHISTLE"!  After making ourselves crazy playing with it, we presented it to our little buddy upon our return (among numerous other items) so that he could drive his parents crazy with it as well. Funny I haven't heard anything about that since we got back. I wonder if Kristen is hiding a whole treasure chest of banned and noisy items from my grandson in the name of peace.

Our day ended in an 1800s hotel in Inverness and it looked like it. Very "castley" and the room was about big enough for the bed. We got quite proficient at utilizing and stowing giant suitcases in little or no space on the trip. And heck you only use the room to sleep in for the five hours of darkness anyway. We walked downtown, well we were downtown, to do some shopping. One little problem was our normal arrival time in a town was pretty much just before or just after the stores closed. Our guide would gaily point out, you've got some time to explore the town - which actually meant explore the pubs as that was pretty much all that was open.  We did find a little shop full of touristy souvenirs, but as we were tourists searching souvenirs, that worked just fine. Finally found a Scottish crest for Pringle, my Grandmother's surname which I showed in the previous chapter.

Dinner at the hotel started with the usual mystery greens. I like salad, but I never did get what greens they were serving us and never got used to the bitter taste. Maybe the inevitable brown sauce would have worked on them. Followed by some kind of pork, I think and tatties of course. Thank goodness the places are generous with the brown sauce. I will never put down  or turn my nose up at gravy again. It literally saved my life. That seems to be where the flavor resides. Finished up with a mango filled cheesecake. Odd combination but it worked. Side note:  I weighed exactly the same at the end of the trip as when I started, so overeating was never an issue or option for that matter on this trip.

No telly in the room, no door lock that worked, no wash cloths (what is it about no wash cloths unless you ask?), not enough TP, but we slept like the dead as we were back on the road before 8 meaning luggage is out the door by 7. As it stays daylight until after 10 PM in these northern reaches, catching the 40 winks usually occurred on the coach (bus).  To be continued...

UK TRAVEL TALES CHAPTER 6

The trip into another part of the United Kingdom began today. Although it is a part of the UK it has a violent history and an eternal wish to be independent and that desire is no different today. After wars and assassinations and extremely violent English responses to Scottish rebellion it all ended with a marriage of cousins that ended the conflict and brought the Scots under the English fold. However they do have their own parliament (housed in a building in Edinburgh that the Scots believe is hideous) and they value their own banks and coin.  They will however accept the English pound/money is money after all.  Although that is not the case in Ireland who only accept the Euro.

After passing through Durham and its inevitable castle/cathedral and viewing a bit of Hadrian's wall we headed into the hills, literally, to Scotland. After climbing, climbing, climbing we pulled off into this little parking area and jumped off the bus.  Oh side note, can't remember which side of the rock it was on, but we viewed a portion of an abbey that had been destroyed twice-once by the English and secondly by the protestants.  After the second destruction, the populous of this small town basically said "screw it" in Gaelic of course and left the eerie yet beautiful lacework stone structure that carried the friars to their daily prayers intact leading to essentially nowhere. Being practical they built a snack bar and restrooms at a wonderful vantage point to the ruins.

As we stepped off the bus we were struck by a 40 mile an hour gale and spitting rain. Over the distractions of the weather, however, we heard the mournful cry of the pipes. Overcoming the weather with his bare-legged kilt attire and massive "octopus" we were greeted by what the tour guide described as probably the worst bagpipe player in Scotland. We were of course appreciative of the effort and tipped him handsomely, partially for his skill in keeping his dignity when his kilted skirts blew about him as he piped merrily into the face of the wind.  We knew we were in Scotland alright.

We continued into Edinburgh with softening weather and sunshine. Our hotel was an old Georgian manor house and we discovered later we were on the servants floor, but were still thrilled at the large room, wonderful view out the window and the ability to unpack and stay put for two days, a rare treat.  The town is dominated by its ancient castle on the water which acts as a formidable deterrent to naval attacks with its sheer rock wall going up a couple hundred feet.  Also, pretty much wherever you look in the old town it is shadowed by an ancient volcano (if you can believe that) locally named "Arthur's Seat". 

We had our first "optional" experience by attending the Scottish Night (dinner & cabaret) at a local nightclub.  Hilarious "Salute to the Haggis" was the opening act. As all were well lubricated by the bottles of wine on the table and open bar before the festivities began, no one really minded that the Robert Burns poem was presented strictly in Gaelic.  The elaborate gestures, the tray of haggis ceremoniously carried in by kilted attendants and the swordplay made the meaning very clear and very funny. In the midst of this "formal" presentation, we were served our own slice of Haggis on top of the inevitable "tatties" (potatoes) and gravy. For those who don't know, haggis is sheep entrails and other extraneous organ meats cooked in a sheep's belly. We decided it wasn't too bad tasting like an extremely greasy pate.  Or so I told myself. More wine, more beer. The evening ended back at the hotel about 10:30 and we crashed. Tomorrow late start with a local tour and open afternoon.

Our tour through town was expertly and humorously guided by a local Scot, Keith, who basically said most of what he told us was a bald-faced lie, but we would never know what was what. He ended the tour at Edinburgh castle and then led us on an extremely energetic climb to the top of the castle explaining each of the seven gates a marauder would have to fight through to reach the defenders. He described in great detail how the defenses worked and one understands the importance of armor back in the day. The final gate would lead to the chapel which makes sense that if the attackers have breached your defenses, your last act would probably be prayer anyway. Amazing how well our older guide could climb, but then kilts/skirts do not really hinder one. He showed us the cannon that they fire off at l:00 pm which apparently was a wedding gift for one of the Queens which would be the first time a wedding couple was "canonized".  I don't make 'em up, I just report it. Oh and the reason they fire off the cannon at 1:00 rather than noon is "being Scottish we don't want to waste the gunpowder....."  Keith was amazingly agile for an older man wearing skirts err kilt though you do have great range of motion.  He too was liberally tipped. We passed on viewing the Scottish crown jewels kept at the castle as the line was too long and we were afraid of missing our bus going back to the hotel.

With the afternoon free we decided to track down a woolen shop. An optional side trip was touring the Royal Yacht Britannia at the Leith harbor. Side note: as it provided honeymoon space for the royal family certain British heirs were no doubt conceived upon its royal self. That was not enticement enough to essentially tour a cruise ship. Instead we opted to pursue family connections by trying to locate the "James Pringle Weavers" shop as my Grandmother's maiden name was Pringle. James Pringle Weavers turned out to be a chain store of sorts located in different areas of Scotland that carries a lot of tartan items. I did finally locate the Pringle clan (family) crest. It depicts a seashell on a buckle with the words "Amicitia Reddit Honores" (Friendship Gives Honors). The woolen connection may be associated to a time in the 1500's when Pringles held responsibility for overseeing the shearing, storage and transportation of the King's sheep.  The seashell is anyone's guess. The Pringles were also close allies of the Earls of Douglas and served as their squires. 

However, the fun part of the trip which started out in sunshine and nice temperatures, was getting lost in Leith (western side of Edinburgh) and the day turning into cold and wind which is more typical Scottish weather. We told our tour guide to go without us if we weren't back by 2:30 and set off to find the Pringle factory. It was farther than advertised. I really should learn to read a map better. After our visit at James Pringle we were well past our 2:30 rendezvous. I said "can't be far, look there's that church tower that's at the end of the street our hotel is on". Wrong.  After circling the same five block area around the harbor for the third time now in chilly rain I was ready to wreck havoc on something or somebody. Turning around we saw one of those picturesque black cabs that the UK is famous for as you see them in every movie.  Hand out and he stopped "glory be".  I heard they were expensive but one does not quibble when lost and cold. They are an experience with the sideways doors and huge passenger area. You could roll a bowling ball up to the driver's compartment, well not really. Very cool and a definite haven against the storm. Though slight tightening of the cheeks when he says is that hotel on such and such a street?  Well you're  the cabbie wouldn't you know? Trust is a big issue when you travel.  Sure sure that's it and we did arrive safely.

Tomorrow it's off to St. Andrews and Inverness.  To be continued....

UK TRAVEL TALES CHAPTER 5

Sorry for the break in reporting. Been working on dining room remodel and busy sorting, disposing and relocating a myriad of objects and several hours and days cleaning wallpaper glue off four walls! Now repainted awaiting the new floor installation. Fingers crossed things stay on schedule.

Ok on with the trip.  I have definitely been in big cities in the US before and even 10 days in France, however I will say to fellow travelers knowing the transportation system and options and understanding the money goes a long way.  I often had to, pardon me Blanch of "Glass Menagerie", "rely on the kindness of strangers" to get me what I needed. Although we had beautiful weather, the norm kicked in with some gloom and rain.  However it never lasted that long and when on a tour, one just throws a water-proof jacket on and keeps the agenda.  I did finally understand that "we are on an island" buffeted by the North Atlantic and the Gulf Stream - two extremes.  So the usual weather was gloomy morning, sunny daytime and cool and sometimes rainy nights.  No big deal and as I hate extreme heat, I was physically quite happy.  Though when it hit the high 70's the last couple of days, the Brits literally melt from the extreme heat.  And as stated before they don't really believe in air-conditioning, it led to some sticky nights.

Our stops this day included Durham to see the castle and Romanesque cathedral. Remember the ABCs (another bloody church/castle). A rainy day but a fun walk about town. Uphill both ways oddly enough.  There was this interesting street that was so narrow it was a literal shock when a van managed to drive up the road as pedestrians/tourists covered the entire street. Common occurrence; people give way; no rush and everyone's cool. We also had another experience with the banks there as again we were denied entrance to the inner sanctum although the lobby was staffed by professional looking people in uniform who helpfully guided me through the ATM procedure at an extreme cost to me for foreign exchange rate (expected) and foreign transaction fee (surprise). As I was promised no transaction fees if  I used the sister bank Barclay's there was a bit of sticker shock but I had no choice if I wanted my cash.  Did get those fees refunded when I got back to the States though.

As it was raining...enjoyed an indoor flea market/garage sale/mall that covered a few blocks. They are big on indoor flea market/garage sale/malls there all of which have been "in existence in that spot  for 800 years.  Anyway, I got a set of marking pens for a pound and a delicious looking lemon bar for about three.  Unfortunately the lemon bar was mostly "scone-like" with very little lemon.  They do love their flour and water concoctions over there, and they do fill you up.

We stopped at a little pub in Newcastle for lunch I believe which was called

We are in England after all.  This is where I enjoyed my "Newkie" brew in a pint size.  Really need to mind your "Ps & Qs" when drinking in the U.K. lol. Fortunately I'm not driving. Before lunch we stopped to see a bit of Hadrian's Wall which at one point girdled the narrowest part of England from the Channel to the Atlantic. As with most walls, they become ineffective as you can go over, under or around eventually (hint hint) unless they are staffed every mile or so with heavily armed soldiers. There's very little left  at least in this area as the local people needed materials for fences and pens etc.  Upon looking around they noted these finely hewed stones just sitting there for the asking, or the taking probably. So Hadrian's Wall actually shows up as the outdoor decor around most of the local farms and houses.

We continued our trip north to Scotland passing golden fields of canola flowers as far as the eye could see.  Next chapter will begin with our entry into beautiful Scotland. However as we left northern England we passed a pub that said "Last Pub in England". And of course when we turned around and looked back it proclaimed "First Pub in England" . Take your claim to fame where you can.  Love the British sense of humor.   To be continued...

TALES FROM THE U.K. CHAPTER 4

Day 4 - Leaving London

Arriving in the lobby of the hotel after another gargantuan English breakfast we observed the controlled chaos that ensues each morning of the trip. Frantically scanning the immense pile of luggage to assure your bags got picked up by the proper group and are loaded on the proper tour bus was of immediate concern. After a few days, one gets used to suitcase roulette and just assumes things get loaded and unloaded properly. (Also after a couple of days of "gargantuan" English breakfasts, I opted for yogurt and granola in the morning-there were always enough snacks during the day to cover any deficit).

Driving through London on an early Sunday morning was probably the first time to enjoy how "green" the city is. Parks and open spaces everywhere which are not that easy to see during regular working hours. The bus was new to both passengers and driver and was pristine. One could literally "eat off the floor"; a condition that the driver returned it to magically each morning. Apparently they get graded on cleanliness and such attention to detail is appreciated when you realize you are spending up to six hours a day on board moving from seat to seat.  As we are all generous souls and non-competitive types the tour guide laid out the suggested (read mandatory) "seat shift" custom. Every day you shifted back two rows. That way all of us get the "good seats" at least once or twice. Well I tend to get to things early and I like the front seat.  Fortunately the bus was large and comfortable and car sickness was not an issue. By the last day we had rotated back to the seat we set out on the first day. Cool how that works.

Hard to get used to the left side driving even after two weeks. I continued to look the wrong way at every instance. Fortunately I was not driving. Specific rules for drivers that I wish we had here in the States. No bus or truck driver can exceed 62 mph and governors are set on the vehicle to assure that. Also they are strictly limited to how long they can drive on any one day and they are required to take one day completely off in every seven. That resulted in two relief drivers, one of whom piloted the hair-raising ride around the "Ring of Kerry" in Ireland; a road encompassing many hills, death-defying curves and plunges of several 100 feet inches from our wheels. Drivers are armed with computer chip cards that are inserted before they can even start the vehicle that can be examined by police which record their complete driving history for the past two months. These rules were put into place to address the number of truck/bus/car accidents that were occurring and, big surprise, it has had a very positive impact in reducing incidents.  Contrast that with the U.S. where giant Walmart is lobbying Congress to let their transporters drive even longer hours. In the U.K. drivers are protected from fatigue-induced accidents and possible job loss by simpl following the rules.

Fun Fact. There are not "Smokey & the Bandit" situations with cops hiding behind signs and wasting a lot of time controlling speed. Drivers can actually go 80-90 as long as traffic is moving and they are not causing any issues.  Yes, it's over the speed limit, but common sense and a lot more training to get your license is the rule.  How refreshing.

Our itinerary included a stop in Stratford (Shakespeare's hometown) and the City of York. After specific instructions to be back at the time given, repeated several times, we were down one passenger after the first stop. Nothing against any one country, but it was a Canadian. Until you remember names, nationality seems to work as an identifier. Although the gentleman's wife was on board he was nowhere to be found. When asked where he was she just said something like "I don't know, he wanders".  Oh goodie. Tour guide and wife (to identify the body) set off to search.  He came wandering back about ten minutes later apparently unaware of the consternation in the chicken coops he had created.

At any rate we explored the town (and returned within the time limit) after the mandatory stop at the "toilets". First item of business after we boarded the bus, we were instructed on "relief" issues.  Yes, there is a toilet on the bus which one would have to be a contortionist to use. It's actually smaller than an airliner bathroom if you can imagine.  At any rate, we were seriously cautioned to not use it for other than an immediate emergency and only for number one. Seriously disgusting story about that I may divulge later. Also the gentlemen on board were cautioned to only apply themselves sitting down or suffer the consequences of an unexpected turn, sudden stop or turbulence. As it is the driver's job to clean the bus every night, we understood. Toilets became a very important issue as they do on any trip and our guide was extremely helpful by stopping about every two hours and explaining where the "clean" and "free" toilets were at each stop. Another thing about the U.K.-they do keep things very clean with litter, messy wastebaskets and graffiti unusual. Or the Brits themselves are very neat.

In Stratford we did get to see Shakespeare's actual childhood home. Costumed actors performed snippets of his plays at different venues as no one can actually stand and watch an entire play lol. Several statues throughout the main street suddenly and comically revealed their true nature when they started speaking or gesturing.  Each was accompanied by a receptacle to accept any appreciative tokens donated by the passer-by. We actually purchased an ice cream cone (delicious custard-like ice cream there) and a British themed Christmas ornament. As the places we visited are used to tourists, actually their economies are dependent upon them, we fumbled with our money and then just laid it out on the counter where the proprietor picked out what he needed. Oddly enough our change equaled exactly 8.99 pounds the cost of the item.

On to the city of York, an ancient walled city originally settled by the Vikings. Parts of the wall and towers are still standing. Did I say earlier that anything 1700AD or later is modern to these folks? We walked uphill (both ways) Shambles Street which is narrow, cobble stoned and packed with storefronts that still sport the old meat hooks butchers used to hang their wares for the perusal of folks passing by. Also we were regaled with stories of how "toilet" issues were handled and it was not hard to imagine the condition of the streets before indoor plumbing and sewers. Our walk ended at York Minister which claims to be England's largest medieval cathedral. It was at least a block or two long. We were told we could visit upon payment of a "donation". Donations are frequent as repairs are ongoing as evidenced by the proliferation of scaffolds we found on buildings everywhere. These are pretty old ladies they are trying to maintain obviously. We also found out the meaning of the phrase ABC used by long-suffering tourists. It translates to "Another Bleeding Church". Hmmm

Our room was small, even smaller than our first hotel, but as long as it had at least a queen-size bed and plumbing, we were good. Quite a variety of hotels on the trip and as many were built in the 1800's, one's expectations change and it's just  place to crash. As I proclaim to love history I can't really complain. We had a "getting to know you" dinner this night provided by the tour company and we sat with a couple that continued to provide a challenge to the rest of the group due to some physical issues. We also got a dose of TMI (too much info) on some situations with the couple, but hey that's part of traveling and meeting people right?

Couple of other highlights of the day. Most of the houses are made of stone and stucco and they have no parking and tend to be stacked on each other. Did not really see houses that resembled home until Ireland. The dinner offered fish soup which I declined and duck pate that I enjoyed. Our lunch stop was an expressway oasis like we have here complete with McDonalds.  Oh my gosh - saw McDonalds and KFC just everywhere! Opted for the New York Deli sandwich at another café and was surprised to find a typical salami on rye.....sprinkled with pickle slices!  Not too bad actually. Though they do seem to have a major love affair with mayo on all sandwiches which is not my first choice.  I tended to say "when in Rome" a lot which led to sampling haggis, single-malt scotch, meat pies, Guinness and mead.    To be Cont.

TRAVELS FROM THE U.K CHAPTER 3

Day 3 (or reasonable timeframe)                                                             

Another tour this morning. More of a "driving" tour of the highlights of downtown London.  Little did we know, this was the precursor to what was to become our routine for the next two weeks.  Lots of bus riding. Yes, the tour bus was not like a typical "school bus" sporti semi-comfortable individualized seats and pretty decent leg room. But the seat belts on our regular bus were so tight we probably didn't use them as much as we should until we took the hair-raising tour of the "Ring of Kerry". Irish roads leave a bit to be desired, but our tour guide just dubbed them "Tour Bus Calisthenics" and had us practice. But that is for another day.

Our regular tour bus starting on day four was brand, spanking new fresh off the assembly line. New to us and new to the driver who had a couple of hair-raising experiences with the hydraulic system not functioning as expected. In one instance, we were perched precariously on a hill, in mud, trying to mount a hill that led directly to a busy 2-lane highway. We were discussing whether we needed to get off, unload the baggage and push, but our intrepid driver got us safely up the hill and onto the road without a minimum of death and mayhem.  But I digress.

We got to know our driver and tour guide pretty well during our journeys. There was some disagreement on whether the driver was "cockney" or Scottish-they seem to sound the same. All I know is he turned me on to a beer named a Newcastle or Newkie as they are affectionately called and it was quite good.  I tended to drink quite a bit of beer on the trip. Wine was consumed (as it was free) at the optional "nights out". Though I did feel kind of silly ordering it as a newkie, the locals knew it well.  And another fun fact. You get a "pint" if you do not ask for a smaller portion.  I of course soldiered on and accepted whatever was offered in whatever quantity.  Assisted me in getting some good naps in on the bus.

At any rate, our tour guide was a bit pretentious spouting his opinion on politics and expressing his disdain of "public schools". He of course was Christ College and Cambridge educated. As he put it, "it's not what you know, it's who you know". Then he would regale us with a history lesson and at the high point of the story, he would say, "guess you will just have to buy my book to hear the end". I am not kidding. And amazingly, some people did!  If he is such an upper-crust, well-connected author, then why is he working for someone else as a tour guide? He was probably the sole "ugly Englishman" that we encountered.

He did take us to Buckingham Palace in time to witness the changing of the guard. In the U.K. soldiers in whatever conveyance (car, truck, tank, Horse) have the right of way on British streets. Cool. And yes that is a picture of me taking a video of the of the action.

Cut loose, as they call it, in the afternoon we decided to take a long walk in the other direction looking for Trafalgar Square which is surrounded by the pricier neighborhoods and stores. We walked through Eton Square - the home of both Sean Connery and Richard Moore (Moore just passed away a couple of weeks ago).  As usual, I could not pinpoint the spot I was actually looking for so we headed back towards the hotel looking for someplace to eat. Catching sight of an interesting little café/restaurant we thought we would give it a try. Little did we know we would be rejected and sent on our way!

Just a hole in the wall with very little décor and few tables. Though the smokers tend to stay outside at their own tables. Another digression - it was so odd to see so many smokers! But they stay outside so all is good and they are catered to in their areas. Did not realize how much we have demonized smoking in the "States".  Anyway, they said do you have a reservation? Huh? No décor, hole in the wall, few tables mostly empty. They graciously seated us despite no pre-arrangements. As we got our 4 pound "bottle" of water we scanned our menu.  Uh-oh - all seafood choices. Apparently this was a Sicilian themed restaurant with no other entrees available.  We asked if we could just have a drink as they had a pretty interesting wine list. HORRORS! No you must leave! Ah well, I am sure I have been thrown out of better places.

Ended up hitting a pub close to the hotel and noted the menu looked awfully familiar. Another little quirk. One often has to go up to the bar to order both food and drink. They bring it to you, usually, but wait staff is not there to take an order apparently. Well at least in the pubs. Upon scanning the familiar menu, I realized this was the same offering we had the first night at the "Bag 'O Nails" pub.  But at least they let us sit in the pub/bar area and did not condemn us to a Ladie's Parlor. Another interesting note. I don't know if gambling is legal in the UK, but I saw a lot of slot machines that seemed to accept money and pay out money. Odd, though. I never saw anyone playing them. Another story there no doubt. ToBeContinued

TRAVEL TALES FROM THE UK, CHAPTER 2

I can try to keep this in order, but sometimes days or experiences run together in a total ethnic blur, so I will try to post in the approximate order of the trip. However I will take poetic license if something occurs to me and it's a different day. I believe it's the challenges and general screw-ups that stick in your mind after an adventure which is more interesting than trying to attain any kind of continuity. That will be my disclaimer for the moment anyway.

Couple of interesting things in UK hotel rooms-no clocks, teeny-tiny wastebaskets and the electrical challenge I mentioned earlier. Also the pub we enjoyed the first evening had an old-timey portrait of a previous owner???  With the surname of Pringle. So maybe our ancestors were in the pub business.  Makes sense as their crest features a sea shell so maybe they sold seashells or seafood by the seashore? Also when our tour director asked for our surname, I had to think what the heck that meant.  Yes, I know it's your family's hereditary last name, but not exactly how we ask your name here in the States as we think we are all brand-new creatures with no past or history.  History over there is anything that's at least 500 years old.  The 1700's are merely yesterday and the buildings are still there to prove it!
View of Victoria Station from Hotel Room

Day 2 - after we discovered we were located on the back of Victoria Station, a main hub for trains and buses, we realized the disembodied voices we had been hearing through the wall were actually announcements from the station.  After the Manchester bombing, we also realized we were attached to a possible target for terrorism. Then after the latest event on London Bridge and the Borough Market another chill went down my spine as I realized that was one of the stops we made on Day 2.

Knowing through the first day experience that we were the proverbial "babes in the woods" around the big City we were grateful that our travel rep appeared early the next day to walk us to our day tour pick-up location. She was right. We would have been waving good-by to that big double decker red bus if we had attempted the journey on our own.  Oddly enough, the tour dropped us at Westminster Abbey at the end of the day rather than taking us back to the starting point and said good luck.  Had to ask a bobby how to get back...We were going to tip that guide but decided not to after the "dump and run".

As the scheduled 15 day trip did not include a Tower of London or Westminster tour and the one thing I wanted to experience, a "formal" high tea, this optional tour supplied all the missing parts. The Tower of London was incredible with ancient buildings, the crown jewels, stern-faced British soldiers (separated by a fence so couldn't get close to try and make them smile-pooh) and the inevitable shopping arcade.  No matter where you go, and I assume by plan, there is always the inevitable shopping opportunities.  I did ask when in Ireland and observing the vast distances between villages, what people did for a living.  Essentially the answer was, "cater to the tourists". Well at least the landscape is not peppered with giant smokestacks and ugly warehouses. But spoiler alert; I was not that impressed with the crown jewels. Could be the masses of people blocking any good views, but I just thought there would be more.

Another odd compulsion of the tourists milling around the grounds of the Tower is their blood-thirsty desire to know exactly "where" the unfortunate Ann Boleyn "lost her head" (pardon the pun).  They fenced in an area and say vaguely "over there" somewhere. The lady who could not deliver a male heir and actually embraced Protestantism (more so than Henry 8) was instead accused of treason to justify her execution. Oh yes, life is so much better for women now, hmmmm.

Interesting story.  As long as the Ravens remain at the Tower of London it will never be destroyed. Well to assure that, they feed them well and make sure they do not fly too far away. A local celebrity is the lady below with the pink ribbon on her foot. A true drama queen she is known to collapse as if dead to the consternation of the onlookers. Then she pops up with a crow-equivalent "ta da" .  Tres Amuse!

Cannot get close enough to harass the "Beefeater" but note that is no pea shooter he is sporting...

I was more interested in the explanation of the castle garderobes. Essentially "privies".  As castle dwellers wore a lot of furs and heavy materials, and due to the absence of really good self-serve laundromats, folks believed if they hung the dirty garments in the castle toilet whatever nasties living (or decomposing) there would miraculously clean the garments. Something like if it smells that bad, then it has to be good for something?  One can only pity the lads who's job it was to shovel out these spaces occasionally.

At lunchtime, we made a stop at Borough Market and were cut loose for an hour. Clearly marking where the bus was we ventured into what is a mixture of the biggest flea market/garage sale and food court one has ever seen. One form or another of the Borough market has been in existence at this site for 1,000 years. Now even the Brits admit that's a long time.  It's where the "regular" folk got together to barter and exchanges services away from the castle folk. We promptly got lost. However in making our first purchase, we were told our 5 pound notes were out-of-date as of last Friday and we needed to go to a bank to exchange them. Apparently this happens frequently that they change notes or coins so tourists beware. Aside: we found the easiest way to make a purchase was lay all our coins out and let the vendor pick out what they needed. Seemed to work and I think everyone was honest. Remember they cater to tourists.  Anyway, we managed to find a bank. Another interesting adventure. You don't actually get to go into the bank proper. There are ATMs everywhere on the street, but being from the States, we go inside. You are met by uniformed people who ask you your business. Then they take care of it for you or allow you to talk to a bank clerk in a tiny little window peeking out of a very imposing wall. Very interesting. Not sure how you access the inner sanctum and conduct business but apparently very few do considering the number of people accessing the outside ATMs.  At any rate we got some wonderful cheese to go with my "free" Chardonnay from the plane and dinner was set. The market was interesting, masses of people and noise, free samples of cheese, pate, fruit, drinks. And we found our way back to the bus unscathed and on time. Whew.

Westminster was beautiful in its variety of architectures. Each ruler or dynasty added their own pieces to the cathedral based upon the style of the era. Yet the intricate Gothic lacework of stone and soaring towers framing its "Rose" window dominates. The interior, only glimpsed at Royal weddings was magnificent and pictures could not do justice. Amusing fact. After a lifetime of fighting each other rivals Queen Elizabeth and Mary, Queen of Scots are entombed side-by-side for all eternity. There is a knights section and a poets and writers section and significantly on the very threshold marks a most impressive tomb. If you have ever seen someone enter Westminster, you will note that they step to one side and go around something. That something, framed in brilliant red poppies is the tomb of the British unknown soldier. Perfect.

High tea was held in a café (and gift shop) housed in one of the adjacent out-buildings at Westminster which also includes a boy's school in the complex.  I now understand why Brits don't eat dinner until late in the day. Several trays were brought along with the teapots that were mounded with sandwiches, scones and every type of sweet confection one could possibly want and/or need. Sampling each, I not only did not require much dinner, but suffered for imbibing that many sweets. One item was basically fudge on fudgey cake covered in fudge. I blame the tea though. One of the people on the tour anointed herself queen of the tea and tried to divvy up which tray or teapot belonged to which group of people at the table. We all basically ignored her, as one, who died and left her in charge, and second, there was so much we couldn't possibly finish it all so we gorged like little piglets.  Burt, being a sport, tried tea. First he tried it straight - no. Next sugar-nope. Finally sugar and cream-definitely not. I however, did not have that problem the first time I tried Guinness. A tale for another day.

Dinner consisted of the previous mentioned cheese, crackers and wine. Plus I was nursing a tummy ache from the sugar explosion at tea.  ToBeContinued