UK TRAVEL TALES CHAPTER 11

This Irish chapters will be sprinkled with jokes heard from the Irish cabaret we attended Sunday night. Jokes like "me Grandmother was so short her feet showed in her passport photo".

Sunday morning in Dublin, Ireland the land of 90% Catholics, and we were honored to attend the Church of Guinness at 10:00 am.  Fascinating and apparently the Number 1 tourist attraction in Europe. History and beer - how can one go wrong? I shall remember it as the my first proper taste of the "black & white". After worship, I have definitely become a "believer". Guinness at 10:00 am, well it is Ireland after all. I followed that up with a whole pint at lunch, followed up by a nap... Actually I found myself "worshipping" every day the remainder of the trip.

At any rate Arthur Guinness was a canny lad. As he was being pooed pooed for his brewery plans, in 1759 he managed to rent the facility for IRL45 (45 Irish pounds) a year for 9,000 years. However, the lease is no longer in effect because the property has been bought when it expanded beyond the original four-acre site.

"Airline personnel - Has your suitcase been out of your sight? Well it's been in me attic for 15 years"

By the time we reached the "Gravity Bar" at the very top of the brewery, we were pretty much ready for more light refreshment as we enjoyed a 360 degree view of downtown Dublin.  The old brewery building is technically a 7 story museum showing both the brewing process and advertising animals created by John Gilroy working off the tag line "Guinness is good for you".

I also had the pleasure of enjoying my first beef and Guinness pie.  All things Guinness the rest of the trip. At the time I said if it doesn't taste like this in the States, I will be disappointed. (It doesn't).

"A friend talks another friend into trying Viagra. You'll feel like you're 20 again laddie. After a few weeks they met again and the friend asked him - did your try that Viagra. Well said his friend I did me boyo. Were there any side effects asked his friend? After a brief ponder the second man said, well only one-the Missus' headaches are back..."

Some other facts about Guinness is that it has to be chilled to 60 degrees to be perfect and it takes two minutes to settle in two stages; each time waiting for the bubbles to stop. I did perform homage by sporting the foam mustache proudly when I quaffed a pint.

Although I would never attend something like this normally, we did sign up for the Irish cabaret. Wall-to-wall tables and chairs loaded with a couple hundred people and only one exit that I could see. Tight quarters for attendees and performers whose stage is so small they actually dance on the tables! Lol.  I think the wait staff was in on the idea as certain areas were surreptitiously cleared just ahead of the dancing feet.  The Irish music, dancing and comedian were awesome. I am repeating some of the cleaner jokes, but you had to be there. We were laughing so hard we were crying.  Plus I regaled some of the rest of the gang with the jokes in the days following. Still made us laugh.

"I was such an ugly baby the nurse slapped everyone in the delivery room. She yelled out 8 pounds and me Mater yelled back he's yours and I'll throw in the baby carriage. How ugly was I? Well for the longest time me parents thought I had bad breath and a cleft palate until they realized they'd been holding me upside down".

After our Guinness tour our Dublin guide James narrated our riding tour. Unfortunately his voice was lyrical and low and he lost a few of us after our "pint" at the end of the tour. However he did relate the circumstances around the rebellion of 1916 which led to the Irish Republic being formed. As history is yesterday there, 1916 is the same a 2017. He told of the brave men who were executed by the British and showed us their resting place-a monument honored by all. Their sacrifice triggered the rest of the country to take up arms and eventually win their freedom as a free and independent nation. Queen Elizabeth eventually visited, greeting the populace in their native Gaelic, thus burying the hatchet for centuries of persecution, for good.

James also showed us where the American counsel lives near a park with a gigantic cross erected for the visit by the Pope. 5,000 people thronged this area to see the Pope but I especially remember the fantastic ice cream vendor truck stationed nearby that provided us our late morning snack. Guinness and ice cream on a Sunday morning Tra la.

"So many of the travelers are honeymooners and me and the Missus are sitting to breakfast listening to all the billing and cooing.  Pass the sugar, sugar; pass the honey, honey; care for a bun, bunny. Me wife looks at me and hollers pass the bacon you fat pig!"
To be continued....

UK TRAVEL TALES CHAPTER 10

Enjoying a walking tour of Chester because it's a walking tour not a bus tour although one had to take a bus to get here. A timed walking tour because if we miss our rondez-vous, we miss the boat to Ireland - not acceptable.  Of course I don't know how important that is to the rest of the group.  (At any rate, we all made it.)  This is the second walled city from Norman times we visited. Even explored a recently unearthed Roman structure located many feet below the streets of Chester which was next to an ancient Roman-inspired garden located above the city streets. They also had a few tombstones moved from outside the city that depicted Roman burial practices.  Quite pleasant  and beautiful actually. And if I recall correctly the town also contained the first protestant church commissioned by jolly old Henry VIII. But after a while I got my castles and churches mixed up.

We walked to the town center and then along the top of the Norman wall all the way down to the River Die. And what did we see on the River Die in the British city of Chester in the western part of England?  See below:

Yes I am as puzzled as you.

As usual it started to rain pretty good, but it got us back to the bus early where we passed the time chatting with other bedraggled members of our group. In the U.K. you wear waterproof or carry umbrellas and soldier on. It's an island folks: misty mornings, sunny daytime, cool evenings.

As we entered Wales we stopped in a little town whose name is longer than the main street. Apparently the thinking was, if they made the name long and unpronounceable people would bypass it as we always want to say we traveled to------------------------------. I think it's 52 letters or something.

Loosely translated:  The Church of Mary in the Hollow of the....." well you get the gist. Of course there is a tourist stop - canteen and souvenir shop and look a "James Pringle Weavers" outlet! Also free samples of variously flavored whiskey. Amazing the amount of alcohol available regardless of the hour though the pubs close early so maybe that makes sense. I did not know the Welsh flag features a rather ferocious looking dragon, but I told Joe it's a dinosaur on the shirt I bought him. However, he probably knew the difference.

The ferry boat to Dublin which the bus just drives right up into, has eleven decks. We tried going outside but the wind even on a calm day blows you right off your feet. Inside there are chairs, couches, food and the inevitable gift shop. But all I kept thinking was "a 3-hour tour".

After an uneventful trip across the Irish sea during which I saw a porpoise dive, we arrived at the docks of Dublin. We made slow progress to our hotel due to traffic and a special concert that was being held that night. Ariana Grande was performing and we saw all the teenagers in their best outfits standing in a huge line to get into the concert venue, in the rain.  The view of all those excited young people was especially poignant  and sadly memorable when two days later a coward bombed the same concert in Manchester, England.

Arriving at the hotel most appropriately named the Trinity Hotel as it is located across from the famous Trinity College. This hotel certainly personified the point at which opulence just become gauche and apparently their favorite color is royal purple. I'll just leave it at that.

Big rainstorm prompted our deciding to sample the hotel cuisine rather than going out. At least the affinity for purple was more subdued in the dining area. Burt finally got his lamb.  We had been seeing tons of sheep and lambs but it was never on the menus. Then actually the next day at our Irish Cabaret night they offered lamb stew.  I stuck with steak and chicken until I learned to partner it with my new favorite brew which I discovered a day later.

I don't know what they use, but I can't get used to their salad greens. They just taste bitter and dressing is either non-existent or a form of vinegar and mayonnaise. They do love their mayo, but not my favorite. Tomorrow, Sunday, we will enjoy a different kind of religious experience followed by an extremely hilarious night at the Irish Cabaret.  To be continued......

UK TRAVEL TALES CHAPTER 9

Leisurely day. Bags out at 8:30 rather than the crack of dawn, which is about 4:30 am actually. At least that's when we seem to wake up with the sun. Short nights here. A couple of rides south and opportunities to explore a town on the banks of Lake Windermere of which I cannot remember the name and also some time in Liverpool before heading to the English town of Chester for the night.  Looking forward to our ferry across the Irish Sea to Eire in a day or two.

Wandered the town after breakfast which for the first time ordering off the menu was allowed! Burt immediately opted for Eggs Benedict where I stuck to my tried and true granola and yogurt, though I do drink a pot of tea now.  This hotel was so luxurious from the room, the public areas to the food. Tea or alcohol served in a marvelous parlor where one could imagine the formally dressed guests planning out their day's activities and evening dining with golden pens and white gloved waiters at the ready. The English on vacay really know how to Par--tee!

As we traversed the streets along the Lake I now believe that all the sheep's legs are shorter on one side. You would not believe the steepness of the hills where you literally went uphill both ways. Also apparently the grass actually is greener on the other side as Burt just noticed a sheep halfway up a stone wall next to his/her field trying to get into the neighboring one. We don't think he/she made it. 

It is interesting to see all the free-standing stone walls that do not rely on mortar to stay together and erect all around the farms. When the English farmers/landowners were forced to "enclose" their lands they turned to what was plentiful - lots and lots of rocks. Apparently the tax man became wise to the practice of neighbors shifting sheep (say that 5 times fast) when he came around to assess the tax burden based on the number of animals owned. Which reminds me of another piece of farming info. We learned some of the brightly colored marks on the ewe's backs were not identifiers of who owned "ewe" but are caused by the rams, ahem, covering them. Thus the farmer can mark both "effort" and "virility" - no sheep!

A couple hour stop in Liverpool was next on the agenda. The dock area, once busy and dangerous is still busy but much more trendy these days as the younger crowd likes the eclectic flats, pubs and the giant soccer stadium that dominate the area. Deciding to forego the Beatles tour (on the bus) in favor of a pint at a nearby pub, I sampled a draft called "Yellow Submarine" (well in Rome or Beatles' country). We sat with a young nursing student as the only open seating and had quite a conversation. Though a new friend Mary asked me, "how much of what he said did you understand?" "Not much" lol. But we smiled and nodded appropriately and our tour guide who was also enjoying a pint with us, kept the conversation going. 

On to Chester ........

Arrived at the Queen's Hotel in Chester which sported lots of portraits of lady rulers and crazy roman statues. Rooms and suites were marked with Queen's names including Henrietta Marcia one of the few times I have seen my sister's name spelled out. Also another room was marked "so & so was conceived in this room". Well ok, probably many rooms owned that legend I would guess.  After a major hunt, we found the "giant chair" we were told to look for though I don't know what it signified if anything.

Also found an old style red box phone booth which had a video screen rather than a phone.  There were many of these red box phone booths still alive and kicking on London streets that actually housed phones.

A little excitement this night as there was a wedding reception going on in the courtyard of the hotel with guests literally being thrown out at midnight. As everyone at the reception was pretty "oiled" when someone starting banging on our doors yelling for help some assumed it was just some misguided guests looking for more booze. However it turned out to be one of our group who had some trouble in the bathroom - either fell or couldn't figure out how to work the faucets at midnight-not sure which story was correct from our rudely awakened fellow travelers. When you travel with a "mature" group, little mishaps like this are daily occurrences. People forgetting to return on time, people getting lost, people almost falling down staircases, people wandering where they should not wander and then feigning deafness when challenged.  Ahh the life of a tour guide.  Tomorrow we board our ferry to Ireland.....

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...