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Home and Away

29 October 2008. My time in England draws to a close.

As the loud bangs of fireworks fill the air in the evenings leading up to Guy Fawkes night, I'm reminded of how fast two years passes. Last year at this time I was just settling in to Bristol. Two years ago I was hunting for places to live in Nottingham. It's hard to believe I'm on my way home.

The last few weeks have been busier than I expected them to be. I've gotten a few last minute travels in, albeit to the two most popular destinations of my time here, but travel nonetheless. I made a trip to Nottingham to have one last hurrah there. It coincided with a beer festival at the castle which was a nice bonus. I also did the touristy thing that I had wanted to do for a while but never got around to. I went to City of Caves, a tour into the caves below Broadmarsh Shopping Centre, once home to many generations of dwellers. I also had a nice lunch with Tom and his family on his mom's birthday. I hung out with friends at the old workplace and said my goodbyes to them before heading back to Bristol.

I finished up work shortly after that. That came with the usual lunches and beers after work. I wish I could have stayed on there but everything has worked out too perfectly for me on the other side of the pond to resist. I've enjoyed my time there, and the experience has been incredibly valuable to my place in the field.

This past weekend I went to London, to see friends; some whom I've been visiting since first going to London, and some new arrivals, friends from Winnipeg who are just starting the two-year journey that I am now finishing. I hope the advice I have given them helps to make their stays here as comfortable and barrier-free as possible. While in London I went to a Halloween party with friends, hung out at Camden Lock on a bustling Saturday, and met an old friend for a couple of pints at the Maple Leaf and elsewhere.

So now, in just a few hours I depart the United Kingdom for the sunny, though frigid, skies of the home country. But I will definitely be back, if only for a visit or two. This country has definitely captured a part of my heart, especially Bristol, in a similar way that Winnipeg did during my time there. So the next little while will be challenging, with jet lag, reverse culture shock, and adjusting to all the changes that have occurred over the year and a half since I've been back there. I don't exactly know how it will all pan out but...

I'll figure it out when I get there.

Misty Cornwall

A rainy weekend in the Westcountry

Stepping off the coach in Bristol (after a refreshingly cooler ride) we had much of the day left to wander around Bristol again. We grabbed a city bus and checked Mom and Dad back in at the Downsview. This time their room was in the front, facing Clifton Down. Billy Smart's Circus was set up just across the way, and the big bay window in the room allowed for a great view of the big top.

After stopping in at home to dump off my backpack I rejoined Mom and Dad, as we got back on the city bus heading into town. We headed past the courts where a news team was interviewing some people in a murder case. Just around the corner was St. Nicholas Market. We wandered up and down the aisles for a bit, musing at the wares. Much to their amusement I showed them the shirt that said, "Alright my luvver" a very Bristolian phrase that I had been saying a lot to them in a heavy Bristol accent.

We stopped at pieminster, a local franchise of pie shops and had a nice chicken pie before heading out of the market toward the cathedral church of St. Mary Redcliffe, just across the harbour. We managed to get in for a look around just a short time before they closed. The attendant gave us each a sheet of facts and things to see within the building. This is an impressive cathedral, even amidst all of the impressive cathedrals we had seen thus far.

We headed up the road as evening was falling to Bristol Temple Meads, the main train station, and then out the side door to see Valentine's Bridge, which I had not known of until that point. We stopped in at the Wetherspoons pub nearby for a nice warming coffee. The after-work crowd was settling in.

We continued back toward town, and stopped in at Cabot Circus, the newly-opened indoor/outdoor shopping centre. This was one of three large shopping centres opening in the country this year. The other two we saw in passing: Westfield in London, and Liverpool One in Liverpool. This was only the second time I had set foot in this place, as it had been under construction the entire time I had been in Bristol. We stepped into Harvey Nichols, a high-end shop, and our jaws dropped at the sight of the price tags: gloves for £100, sweaters for £1000. I think most of the people in the store were doing the same as us. I wonder how successful such a place will be in such a place as Bristol.

We wandered in and out of the shops and then up through Broadmead, where we settled in for a nice meal of pizza, I believe one of the first we'd had on the trip. After that we were quite exhausted, and headed back to the hotel to play some crib before I walked up the road to my humble abode. I did, after all, have to work the next day.

On Friday Mom and Dad entertained themselves again, wandering down the hill to the Clifton Down Shopping Centre, and then stopping in at the Coach and Horses pub. After work, I strolled down to the car rental place and picked up what turned out to be a Mercedes. What luck have I to have two out of the three cars I've rented in Britain be Mercedes!

We went for supper that evening at the Port of Call, a little pub tucked away behind the businesses and homes of Clifton (just up the road from the Coach and Horses). We had some nice Real Ale and great meals for a decent price. It was a charmingly English sea-themed pub, with a nice patio in the back. The weather wasn't too bad, so we sat out there briefly after our meal.

The next morning, we hit the road. The weather was getting greyer, and forecast was looking gloomy, but we were determined to get down to Cornwall for the weekend. We headed down the M5, back along the route we had taken to our Somerset retreat. This time I turned off at the signs for Cheddar. We found our way into the town (known of course for its cheese, but known locally more for its cider and caves). We drove around for a while before we accidentally discovered the little villagey bit at the end. We parked the car along the busy gorge road, and headed out into Old Cheddar.

There were tea houses everywhere, and I figured we must stop in somewhere for a proper cream tea (even though that's more Cornish than Somerset). We first went to the Cheddar Gorge Cheese Company, which tags itself as 'The Only Cheddar Made in Cheddar.' We tasted a few cheeses and I purchased a nice oak-smoked variety. We found our tea house across the street, and sat ourselves next to the fireplace.
We ordered a pot of tea and a dessert each. Dad and I got a fruit dessert of some description with clotted cream on top, and Mom got a trifle... with clotted cream on top. It was a great snack to hold us over until our next stop.

I drove us down the road in the direction the car was pointing, which took us past the entrance to the caves and deeper into the gorge. The mountain goats were teetering above us, and cyclists were straining their way up the sloping winding road. The satnav told me I was going the wrong way, so at the first opportunity, I very carefully turned around, and headed back the way we came.

We continued to drive further and further south, into Devon and past Exeter. We crossed through the northern edge of Dartmoor National Park and stopped at a services there for a light lunch. Into Cornwall the weather was getting uglier, but the rain was not heavy, just a bit misty.

As we approached our target, the Eden Project, I listened for the satnav's directions, ignoring the blatant road signs that were passing me by. The satnav told me to take the exit, but there was no exit to take. I guess some new road construction had occurred since this navigator was last updated. We ended up travelling several miles beyond our turn to the next roundabout, where I was able to turn around and come back the other way. This time, I ignored the computer and used the old-fashioned road signs instead. Past the double roundabout and straight on. The satnav then said to go left, so I did. And down the narrow Cornish lane we went, winding our way down what is obviously a boondock route to the fairly newly constructed Eden Project.

We finally arrived at our destination, a massive network of indoor greenhouses built in an old quarry site. Unfortunately the rain was upon us, so umbrellas and rain coats were a must. We only had a couple of hours before closing, so we headed down the winding ramp into The Core, a sort of science centre. We browsed some of the exhibits there, and then headed back out into the rain to The Link, our portal to the Rainforest Biome. Inside the temperature was much warmer than it was outside. There were all kinds of tropical plants along the paths, including bananas and coffee.

We passed back through The Link to the Mediterranean Biome, which is the smaller of the two biomes. The workers were beginning to get that ready-to-lock-up look in their eyes as we finished out our tour, eventually finding our way back to the visitor's centre and up the ramp to the car. I keyed our hotel into the satnav and a short time later we arrived at the Victoria Inn in Roche, St. Austell.

The hotel exceeded our expectations for the price we paid. We really had had a mix of hotel experiences on this trip. We headed down to the pub to enjoy our last sit-down supper at a restaurant. The food was great and the ale was local.

In the morning, there was a fog about, but it slowly began to lift as the morning wore on. I had a full day planned for us, and part of it included a brief jaunt to the English Channel, just a twenty minute drive away. We drove south into Duporth and then across to the small seaside village of Charlestown. There the sun broke through and a rainbow formed over the houses. There were tall ships in the harbour and some kind of period drama being filmed onboard one of the them. We stood and enjoyed the great sea air for a bit and then headed back to the car to head back northward.

We travelled back the way we had come, through Dartmoor and then up the M5. We eventually came to Glastonbury, a strange town in Somerset. Known for several things, such as its ruined abbey, large hill topped with a tower and the annual music festival that shares its name, Glastonbury is a lively town, even on a Sunday. I had hoped to visit the abbey, but wasn't expecting the entry fee, so we decided to move along and make the most of the remaining daylight.

Our next stop, just up the road was the old town of Wells, which has a most impressive and unique cathedral, with a scissor-shaped quire screen. The cathedral dates to 1180, certainly one of the oldest we had seen. We also stopped briefly at the Bishop's Palace, a large fortified estate surrounded by a moat.

Our last stop before heading back to Bristol, was the historic Georgian city of Bath. We parked at Victoria Park and I proceeded to give Mom and Dad the historic walking tour of the city, starting with the famed Royal Crescent. From there we headed to the Circus and then into the city centre, past the baths and the historic abbey, eventually stopping in at a pub for a cup of coffee and a rest. We ventured into the park and across the Pulteney Bridge to admire the weir, before heading back toward the car.

Back in Bristol we had a bit of trouble at the Downsview. Mom and Dad had spoken to the owner about their late arrival. She was going to be out, but she said she'd leave the key to the room on the window sill. When we arrived and rang the bell, no one answered, so we proceeded to throw pebbles at the upstairs window to alert another guest to let us in. He came down and did so, and we found a key on the table beside the door. It turned out to be for room nine, the room Mom and Dad had had on their first stay. The room, however, had been stayed in. After much frantic searching we contacted the owner on her mobile and soon realised that the key to their room was on the outside window sill. Problem solved.

We decided to go for a traditional fish and chips for our last meal together in England. Dad and I walked around the corner, down Whiteladies Road to Fishers and picked up the food. Back at the hotel we enjoyed the tasty meal that would prove to feed me with leftover chips the next evening.

In the very early morning, I picked up Mom and Dad and all their stuff at the hotel and we set off down the M4 for Heathrow Airport. It had been a very full and enjoyable visit, and despite a few spots of rain, the weather had been brilliant. At Heathrow we said our goodbyes. I waited for word that their plane had departed before heading back to Bristol to return the car.

Just a few short weeks left in England for me.

Cheers.

Photo credits: Mom

A Taste of Britain

Four days, three countries.

Back on the coach to London Victoria, we chose to sit near the back again, thinking the discomfort of last time was just an isolated case of a malfunctioning aircon system. Unfortunately, this one was worse. We sat in the three seats at the very back. Our neighbours were a couple from Cheddar. She was very talkative and dramatic, and when the heat hit, she wasted no time in making several trips to the front to speak to the driver who didn't seem too concerned. We endured the two-hour journey in the sweltering heat and we learned the lesson that it's best not to sit anywhere past the middle of the bus.

In London we stopped for a cool down before heading the few blocks to our hotel. I had booked us in at the Limegrove the previous week. The booking process seemed to be overcomplicated by the hotelier, so I was a bit nervous that our room wasn't there. In any case, I knew this wasn't going to be the Ritz. We really just needed a place to stay for the night. The room was there for us, but as predicted, it was nothing fancy.

We took a stroll in the evening to find the Trafalgar Tours station, where we would be walking to at 6:00am the following morning. It was here we would board our bus for the four-day Taste of Britain tour. We had booked it before Mom and Dad's arrival. It would take us up to Edinburgh and back, stopping at some key spots. We found the station before stopping for some food and then headed back to our five-star accommodation for a game of cribbage and an early night.

In the morning we made the journey again, checked in for our tour and waited with all the others. There were several tours departing that morning, so the room was full of people. Within an hour or so, we were on our bus, and our guide Andrew was briefing us on our journey while pointing out a few things in London as we passed.

Our first stop was Stratford-upon-Avon, in the Midlands, home of course to William Shakespeare and the Royal Shakespeare Company. Andrew gave us a brief tour and then set us walking on our own. Mom, Dad and I headed down past the main theatre, currently being renovated, along the River Avon and over to the church which holds the tomb of Mr. Shakespeare himself. There was a service on so we did not venture in, but headed back toward the High Street and past the old Tudor buildings, one of which was Will's school. Before long we were back at the bus, on our way to Coventry.

Coventry was one of the worst-hit targets of the Nazi bombing campaigns of 1940. The city was almost completely destroyed, and as a result has a lot of post-War buildings (some not so pleasant). The cathedral itself was bombed out leaving just the outer shell of the building and the tower. These ruins were left intact and a new cathedral was built next to it in the 1950s. Coventry is also home to Lady Godiva, who legend has it rode naked on horseback through Coventry Market in protest of her husband's taxes on the town.

We stopped for lunch here, grabbing some pasties from Gregg's the Baker, and sat waiting for the hourly chime of the clock across the square, which features Godiva on a horse, riding past the clock face, while the legendary Peeping Tom looks out of his window, causing him to go blind. Sure enough, as one o'clock struck, Lady Godiva and Peeping Tom appeared. We headed back toward the cathedral soon after, and re-boarded the bus, bound for York.

York is a wonderfully old. It has all of the Old World charm of a city like Prague. It is surrounded by a wall, one of the most intact walls of any city in Britain. There was a food market in the centre. We managed to get a few samples before the stalls were closed. Andrew showed us The Shambles, a street that was once full of butcheries. Many of the Medieval buildings have remained, and that, combined with the slope and angle of the street, create a very caricaturised image of Olde England. From there, a few blocks away, we visited York Minster, the giant cathedral. This one is definitely one of the largest we had seen thus far.

From there we headed further into the Northeast of England toward our first hotel stop near Darlington, another two hours drive from York. We had travelled nearly five hundred kilometres. The hotel, Redworth Hall, certainly exceeded our expectations. It was a luxurious country estate and very roomy. Once settled, we proceeded to the restaurant for our included welcome glass of wine and three course meal. So far so good.

In the morning, after a breakfast buffet, we loaded up and hit the road again, bound for Scotland. Our first stop was in nearby Newcastle-upon-Tyne, to see a small piece of the remnants of Hadrian's Wall, which once stretched across the throat of England, marking the upper boundary of the Roman Empire. The piece in Newcastle is only a couple of hundred feet long, and no taller than knee height. A few photo snaps later, we were rolling down the motorway once again.

We ascended into Northumberland National Park, into the area that both the English and Scots call Borders. At the top of the hill there was a lay-by, where we pulled in and parked the bus. This was the Scottish border. It was marked by a tall stone that said England on one side and Scotland on the other. A piper was playing to welcome visitors. The view from up there was quite spectacular.

After a short stop in the town of Jedburgh, we continued up the road to Edinburgh, the Scottish capital. The position of this city, coupled with the stone of its buildings makes it look like it grew out of the rock. We were let loose on the city after a briefing from Andrew on key spots. We crossed over the bridge and onto the Royal Mile, intent on finding some lunch. We walked down the slope, which has the castle at the top and Hollyroodhouse at the bottom. We decided to stop in at the Tolbooth Tavern, near the bottom of the Royal Mile. It had a nice atmosphere, good food and local beer. And apparently, as our tour guide would later tell us, it was once an actual tax collection point, court and jail during its four hundred year existence.

We were just a short walk away from the new Scottish Parliament, so I had to take a look. This building cost a whopping £500 million. It sits in a prime spot, at the bottom of the Royal Mile, across from Hollyrood Palace and overlooked by Arthur's Seat. We spent some time walking around there, before taking what I thought was a shortcut back to the bus. Luckily they didn't leave without us.

Back on the bus, Keith, a proper Scotsman with kilt and all, joined us as a local tour guide. As we drove up the Royal Mile, he pointed out the sites and told us the stories of the city in his thick Edinburgh accent. Soon after, we parked at Edinburgh Castle, where Keith led us through, regaling us with more stories and Scottish humour. At the top of the castle we were let loose once again, and braving the cold spitty weather, we wandered through the very intact buildings, viewing another set of Crown Jewels, and enjoying the great view of the city from the castle walls. Back in the car park Keith rejoined us and the tour continued all the way to our hotel, just north of the city centre, which I can confirm is the most northern point that I have ever been on the Earth.

Some of the tour group were attending a Scottish show that evening, an optional excursion offered by Trafalgar. We opted out, but decided to catch a ride with them back into the city for the evening. Along the way, a passing truck clipped the bus's mirror, damaging it. Our driver John appealed to us to get a photo of the number plate on the vehicle, and after turning a corner the driver pulled over. Lucky for him, John's a bit of a handy man, and decided to fix it himself, saving the guy potential points on his licence.

In town, we stopped in at a little restaurant just off the Royal Mile and enjoyed a very strange meal of bacon waffles with maple syrup and salad. It was rather quiet in town, being a chilly Monday night. We wandered further down and stopped in at a chippy so we could try the stereotypical Scottish dish of a deep-fried Mars bar. I ordered one and shared it with Mom and Dad. I honestly don't think I could have stomached the whole thing on my own. Fish batter and chocolate make a strange combination. We managed to catch a city bus back to the Holiday Inn, without any trouble and put our weary feet up for a bit.

In the morning there was again a breakfast buffet, but being in Scotland, it also included black pudding and haggis. I missed out on the haggis, but finally took the leap into trying black pudding. Not bad, but not my first choice for protein. We were joined at the table by fellow tour-taker, Amanda, from Virginia Beach. She had eaten haggis the previous night at the Scottish show, but had not seen black pudding before. I informed her that it was made of coagulated pig's blood, and she didn't seem too keen to try it.

Once we were loaded onto the bus, we headed west toward Glasgow, and then turned southward, eventually coming to Gretna Green. This small border town was a famous eloping spot for English couples too young to legally marry in England. Many of the weddings would take place at the blacksmith's shop, since he was the nearest person able to perform a marriage ceremony. Today the blacksmith shop is a tourist stop, with a restaurant and gift shops. We stopped briefly there for a coffee before bidding adieu to Scotland for the Northwest of England.

We turned off the motorway and entered the Lake District in Cumbria. The narrower, winding roads brought us deep into the high hills with lakes at their base. The rain was really coming down now, which hindered good bus window photography. Our stop was the small village of Grassmere, once home to the great poet William Wordsworth. This was a lunch stop for us. We found a nearby cafeteria and stepped out of the torrential downpour. It was a bit unfortunate that the rain was so fierce, but after all of the good weather we had had thus far, it was okay to get a bit of precipitation.

We continued on, back toward the main road, past Windermere (the largest of the District's lakes) and the town of Kendal, home of the Kendal mint. Our next stop was Liverpool, where a handful of us were joined by a walk-on guide, who has been doing Beatles tours for a long time, and has even gotten to know Paul McCartney. He guided us through the city, which is the European Capital of Culture for 2008. We alighted at the Anglican Cathedral, a fairly new structure that has a very prominent place in Liverpool's skyline. We stopped briefly at the Albert Docks and past the new Liverpool One shopping centre. We swung around and picked up the others and then made our way south toward our hotel in Runcorn. The Liverpool leg was quite short. It would have been nice to explore the city a bit more on foot, but with a four day tour, brevity is a natural reality.

At the hotel at Runcorn, we had our farewell dinner, a five course buffet affair. A Brasilian couple from our bus didn't seem to understand the protocol and helped themselves to the buffet. They had created some interesting dramas on the tour. Like most tours there is a seat rotation policy which gives people a chance to sit in a different spot each day of the tour. All but this couple seemed to adhere to this policy, and there were squabbles nearly every morning of the trip between this couple and Andrew about where they should be sitting. It was all quite amusing when viewed objectively.

After supper we joined Amanda and some of the Australians for a drink at the bar. It was nice to relax and mingle with our fellow travellers a bit. Unfortunately with the trip being so short, we just started to meet new people the day before it was over.

The next morning, we headed south to Chester. Another optional excursion into North Wales (which everyone opted into) brought us winding across the hills and valleys, stopping once along the Horseshoe Pass to take in some of the beautiful scenery, and interact with the local sheep. Eventually we came to Llangollen, a charming Welsh village that's a popular stop. We marvelled at a shop with a very long Welsh name, enjoyed the picturesque river and grabbed an ice cream cone from a local vendor.

We headed back to Chester where we were on our own again. We strolled through the city centre for a bit, along the rows, raised walkways along the storefront; something uniquely Chester. We didn't have much time to spend there. We grabbed a bite and headed into the market for a quick look around. Before long we were back on the bus heading into the Midlands.

Our final tour stop was at Wedgewood near Stoke-on-Trent. This factory still makes Wedgewood pottery, as the company has done since 1759. I had seen some Wedgewood pieces before but was unaware how diverse the company's work was. It was a nice little museum that even included a stop into a workshop where Wedgewood workers were creating pieces and interacting with visitors. We stopped for a cup of tea and a scone at the cafe and then got back on the bus for the last leg back to London. It was a very full four days indeed, but I think we all enjoyed it.

Back in London we checked back into our luxury hotel, and ordered ourselves the English Breakfast. Dad and I went back to the bus station to grab some coffees, and then we played some cards before calling it a night. In the morning our "English Breakfast" arrived. Two pieces of bacon, an egg, and toast on mouldy bread. We kind of just had to laugh about the place. It was after all just a place to sleep. We would soon be back on the bus to Bristol for Mom and Dad's last weekend in Britain.

The journey continues west.

Cheers.

Driving in the Country

The first loop... from the Westcountry to the Midlands and back.

We hit the open road on Saturday morning. Mom and Dad were admittedly a bit white-knuckled at first, what with the narrow streets. But after a while they seemed to become comfortable with my driving. We did have our friend the satellite navigator to help us. At times it seemed like there was a fourth person in the car as she told me where to turn and which exits to take on the roundabouts in her gentle tone.

We headed down the M5 southwest into Somerset. Again the weather was good. We were destined for Treble's Holford, a small hamlet of bed and breakfasts where I had stayed with John and Marian on their Somerset holiday back in May. I was unable to book Redlands House, where we had stayed then, as they were booked for the night, but their neighbours down the road had just opened up and I was able to book us there. When we finally got there (I had to stop at Redlands to ask for directions) we were amazed at the place. Our rooms were spotlessly clean with large ensuite bathrooms and wall-mounted televisions. The woman who ran the place was very friendly and welcoming.

Resisting the urge to stay in at the digs, we headed out down the narrow Somerset lanes. Dad commented in disbelief at how narrow the roads were; literally one car width and not much more. Our path was to be similar to the one that John, Marian and I had taken months earlier. The first stop was Lydeard St. Lawerence, where our ancestors Henry and Elizabeth Wolcott were married nearly four hundred years ago. The village was quiet and we let ourselves into the church to snoop around. We managed to find a gravestone in the floor, dated 1618, of a what looked like a Saunders (Elizabeth's maiden name) just in front of the quire screen. The engraving was fading, as one might expect after a few centuries. We wandered around the churchyard for a while, looking at the dates and straining to figure out some of the writing on the more faded ones.

Next we drove up to Gaulden Manor, once owned by the Wolcotts. The man who owns it, Mr. Starkie, had recently been ill and I was not expecting to get very far on the property. Luckily the gardener whom I had spoken to on the last visit arrived and was kind enough to let us have a roam around the grounds. The friendly limping greyhound was also with her. The season was ending and many of the plants were going dormant, but it was still very green, and there were apples on the trees. I picked one, not only for a bit of a snack, but so I can say I've eaten the fruit of my ancestors trees, though I doubt that tree was there when they were.

Our next stop was the village of Tolland, just a few miles away. It was here that the Wolcotts lived and attended the small church on the hill. We saw the tombs of the Wolcotts outside of the church and read the still very legible inscription. Unfortunately we couldn't get into the church as I didn't have phone coverage to make the call for someone to let us in. I was a bit disappointed by this, but Mom and Dad seemed content enough to have seen the grounds and the graves.

On our way back toward Treble's, along the insanely narrow lanes, we stumbled upon the train station at Crowcombe Heathfield. Our innkeeper had told us it wasn't far, so we were pleased to have found it. It's a great old station, that has been used in a few films, including The Beatles' A Hard Day's Night. The station serves the West Somerset Railway, an old piece of original track preserved after the horrendous culling of local lines after the motorways were built. The line runs from Taunton up to Minehead on the coast of the Bristol Channel. Most of the trains are steam locomotives. The volunteers at the station invited us in for tea and biscuits, and advised us on which train to take and where to alight. The end of the day was approaching, so it was decided that we could only go as far as Watchet, and then catch the last train back from there. It was to be steam on the way up and diesel on the way back.

After a long friendly chat and refreshments, our train arrived. The weather had turned a bit greyer whilst we sat in the station, and the rain had begun to fall a bit. The train ride was lovely, somewhat nostalgic for Mom and Dad I presume, and a bit vicariously nostalgic for me, if such a thing exists. We had nearly the whole car to ourselves, until the snack man came along. He was happy to chat to us for the better part of the journey, and made sure we knew that we couldn't miss that last train back. We did have a half-hour between trains though, so it would afford us a bit of time to look around.

As we approached Watchet, the Bristol Channel appeared before us. The wind and light rain prevented us from seeing very far however. After leaving the train and waving our goodbyes to our friendly porters, we crossed the tracks to the harbourside. The sea walls were high, as most are along this stretch. We walked out to the edge to get a view of the sea as the tide was rolling out. Watchet is very much a seaside town. Apart from the marine character, it seemed quite vulnerable to the elements. It was several degrees colder than it had been back at Crowcombe Heathfield.

After our short visit, the diesel train arrived to take us back, a little less romantic than its steam cousin, but not without its own charm. Within a half-hour we were back at the now closed station, and our faithful Corsa, which soon had us back at our comfy rooms.

That evening we decided to go to the local pub, The Farmers Arms, for a nice meal. After a few false attempts at finding the place, we arrived. The interior was very authentically English pub, but with a fancier menu, a pub that one might describe as a gastropub to use the new lingo. We ordered our food and enjoyed it, and then shared a bowl of locally-made ice cream. The couple at the table next to us, had overheard us talking and came over to ask where we were from. Surprisingly they knew we were Canadian, as the gentleman explained his wife had noticed Mom and Dad having their coffee with their meal rather than after, apparently a tell-tale Canuckism. They were very friendly and told us of their fondness for Canada, as they have a daughter that lives in Vancouver.

On Wednesday morning, after enjoying a breakfast made to our liking by our kind host, we hit the road toward Salisbury. Mom and Dad were lucky enough to witness the great British tradition of queueing in traffic, as we were approaching the A303, a road notorious for its queueing. Luckily it didn't last very long, and within a couple of hours we were in Salisbury. Our destination was the famed cathedral, which has one of the highest spires in Europe. There was an exhibition in the cloister about the history of the cathedral from the turn of the millennium to the present. Our stay there was brief but well worth the stop.

We headed out of Salisbury to the famed Stonehenge. Having lived nearly two years in England, one of which living less than fifty miles away, I had never been to the popular tourist spot. I finally had my excuse to go. It doesn't take long to visit, and wasn't as expensive to get in as I had thought it would be. There is a good audio guide to go along with it, although one can't really get very close to the stones themselves, as a rope keeps the people away. It was during our visit that the rain hit. After over a week of good weather our luck was up. It wouldn't last long though. By the time we finished our amble around the circle, the worst of it had passed. After a coffee stop, we hit the road again, bound for Oxford. I had booked in at the Days Inn at the services north of the city.

By the time we got to Oxford the sun was setting, and I was desperately trying to find a place to park. After my now famous move of missing the entrance twice, we finally pulled into a fairly central car park near Magdalen College. We crossed the bridge on foot and wandered up the high street. Oxford is unlike any other city I've been to, in that it is essentially all university. It has shops and restaurants like any other, but the majority of the city centre is made up of the various colleges of Oxford University. It was a bit weird to think that Stephen Hawking wasn't far away, and centuries ago it was Sir Isaac Newton who was head of this prestigious school.

We stopped in at The Crown for a meal and some local ale. I was lucky enough to get a free play on the electronic quiz game, as someone had left 50p in it. Either that or it was something the machine does periodically to entice someone to play. Incidentally I walked away with no more or less than I had started with. We headed back to the car and took the dark drive out to the hotel just outside of the city. Despite having short stays in each place we had visited, it had been quite a long day.

In the morning I fetched some baked goods from the services next door, and we headed off north toward Derby. We were due in at John and Marian's for the late morning, and arrived on schedule. Of course that was after I took the wrong exit on the roundabout to their village, a roundabout that I should know all too well. A quick turn around later and we were at their door, being greeted by them and their two border terriers.

The weather was fine once again, and we sat out in the conservatory. Their garden was looking quite nice, even as the Autumn was approaching. We spent a bit of time walking around outside admiring the foliage before sitting down to a lovely lunch of salmon and vegetables, accompanied by a nip of cider and followed with a descadent pudding. It was nice to be all together at their house, as two years earlier, just prior to my departure for England they had joined us at Mom and Dad's house. I suppose it's formed a bit of a bookend to my time in England.

We lounged a bit, enjoying coffee and dessert before hitting the road once again. I had the ambitious agenda of going to Nottingham and then driving all the way to Worcester, a seventy-five mile journey, before settling in at our already-booked hotel at Droitwich. The drive to Notts was poorly timed, however, as the rush hour was at its peak.

We eventually made it into the centre of town, and parked at Victoria Centre car park. I took Mom and Dad on a brief walking tour of Nottingham, to Old Market Square, up to the the Lace Market, where we stumbled upon my old workplace. We popped into the restaurant and I brought them up to the kitchen, where they met Tom and the other chefs. I hadn't told Tom I would be in town, so he was a bit surprised by the visit. We continued on to the castle and took a rest at Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem Inn, England's oldest pub. By this time it was getting dark and there was still a couple of hours of driving ahead of us. We had all sorts of trouble getting to the car, as Victoria Centre was now closed. We sorted it out, and after taking a short drive past my old digs in Sneinton, we headed west for Worcestershire.

I was hoping to avoid driving through Birmingham and the frightening Spaghetti Junction. Instead we drove straight through it, passing through lit tunnels, up and down and all around. It was as exciting as it was nerve-wracking. We came out the other side and stopped at a petrol station for refreshments before continuing on south to our hotel. Famously I passed right by the hotel and we had to stop in at the very posh Chateau Impney, which looks like a castle lit up in the dark, to ask directions to the Travelodge. I loved the cheekiness of it.

I had to have the car back to the rental place in Bristol the following day so after a night's sleep, we headed toward Bristol, stopping in nearby Worcester, home not only to a great cathedral, but of course to Lea & Perrins, makers of the sauce that bears the county's name. We parked and walked along the River Severn toward the cathedral. The sun was again shining and the temperature was just right. At the cathedral, one of the keen volunteers pointed out some things on the plan to look for, and then proceeded to show us many such things, as well as some secret ones not noted in the brochure. The tomb of King John (the one of Robin Hood's legends) rests at the foot of the altar, and the tomb of King Henry VIII's older brother (who would have been king had he not met his untimely death) was also nearby.

Our meter running out, we headed back to the car, and I punched in an alternate route to get back to Bristol, via Monmouth, Wales. I figured we might not make it to Wales otherwise, and since we were close, we ought to drive through and across the Severn Bridge. I hadn't seen that bit of the Welsh countryside myself, so I was keen on the new sights. It really is a beautiful part of the country, with its wooded hills. The bright sunshine did no harm in accenting the beauty as well.

Before long we were back in Bristol, and after a brief stop at my place to do some luggage shifting (and a nice bowl of soup), we headed to Mom and Dad's new hotel, one they would grow quite fond of: The Downsview. As its name suggests, the hotel is another old stone mansion overlooking the Downs. They were lucky enough to get a second floor room at the back of the hotel, which, being at the top of the steep Blackboy Hill, opens to a fantastic view of Bristol. I was jealous that I wasn't staying there myself. It would only be for one night though, as we were heading to London the next day. They made sure to book the hotel for the following week when we were to return to Bristol.

The journey continues east for our four-day coach trip to Scotland and back.

Cheers.

A Weekend in Bristol

Mom and Dad get a taste of my world in the city where I live

The bus ride to Bristol on Friday morning was less than comfortable. We had decided to sit at the back. The coach was fully booked so I had a stranger sitting beside me. About halfway through the journey, the bus driver came over the PA and asked if we minded taking a short break at the services to cool off. The air conditioning on the bus wasn't working, and the cool air was welcome when we stepped off the bus.

We eventually made it to Bristol without melting, and walked the three or four blocks to the hotel on Tyndalls Park Road. A nice old mansion turned hotel, with friendly helpful staff, I was batting a hundred on hotel choices. Mom and Dad would be treated again to Full English Breakfast each morning. Unfortunately I wasn't so lucky, as I was staying at home. After relaxing a bit we started the walk to my house, which took a bit longer than I had advertised, as we took the back road and cut through the park. Mom was again taken by the abundance of flowers and shrubs in the front gardens of the homes we passed. Back at my place, I treated them to a cup of coffee and some fruit, and we watched a short video about Bristol on YouTube to give them a preview of the city. We would be spending the weekend in Bristol, and I would return to work on Monday before we headed off Tuesday for Somerset.

From my place we walked across the Downs to the edge of the Avon Gorge to view the Clifton Suspension Bridge from afar, as evening was falling and its lights were beginning to glow. We then walked back across the Downs to the top of Whiteladies Road, where we caught a bite at the Black Bear before heading back to the hotel. I think the difference between London and Bristol was immediately apparent to Mom and Dad. The mad rush was gone.

In the morning I met up with the folks and we walked down the steep Park Street toward the city centre, stopping in at arts and crafts store, The Guild, a Bristol institution. We also paused briefly to look at Banksy's now famous piece of graffiti on a blank wall at the bottom of the street.

We crossed College Green and stopped in at Bristol Cathedral. I had never had a proper look around there, and as luck would have it there was a free tour at 11:30. We had a few minutes to burn so we wandered around looking on our own. Back at the front entrance at tour time, we found we were the only ones present for the tour. An Austrian man joined us shortly after starting. Our guide Roger showed us the oldest parts of the cathedral, dating back to the late Twelfth Century, and into the newer part, completed several centuries later. Bristol Cathedral, unlike many of its proximate counterparts, has a very light interior, due to the full height side aisles. We were glad to have caught the tour. It's good to know the history behind things you would otherwise pass by.

We continued on to the Centre. The Bristol Festival was on that weekend, so the sounds from the stage were making their way toward us. We walked to Millennium Square, where all of the free activities of the festival were taking place. There were tents set up by people selling various wares, and a dance team doing a demonstration. We walked along the quay to the Centre Promenade, where we sat and enjoyed ice cream before catching a ferry. It was the first time I'd travelled down the harbour by boat so it was as exciting for me as it was for Mom and Dad.

Our destination was the SS Great Britain, the first passenger steamship. She was designed by the great engineer I.K. Brunel, and built in Brisol back in the 1840s. She sailed around the world several times before being abandoned in the Falkland Islands. In the 1970s she was brought back to Bristol on a pontoon boat, sailing past the Clifton Suspension Bridge for the first time, which was also designed by Brunel. Today the ship has been turned into a museum, rebuilt to show what life was like on the ship. At the water level, a glass roof filled with water allows the visitor to walk along the hull of the ship as though under the sea. The air surrounding the hull is kept very dry to prevent the existing rust damage from spreading further. On board the ship we each got a different audio guide. They come in three kinds, each telling the story from the points of view of different classes of passengers and crew.

We caught the ferry back to the Centre and walked around there for a while. We found our way back to Millennium Square where a group of drummers caught our attention for a while. A large crowd had gathered around them and the atmosphere was very alive. We then caught a bus up to Clifton. We had seen the Suspension Bridge at night from a distance, so I figured we should see it up close. This was also an opportunity to show Mom and Dad my office, which is very close to the bridge. After a bit of a climb we were at the top of gorge, looking down at the bridge. We stopped for some photos in the early evening light, and then continued on down to the bridge level. We crossed the span, which is nearly three hundred feet above the River Avon.

Once we crossed back we headed up to the Avon Gorge Hotel to have some food and drink on the terrace, which has a great view of the bridge and the green hills of North Somerset. The weather had cooperated amazingly thus far. Again, I assured Mom and Dad that nice weather like this had not been the norm in the month leading up to their arrival.

On Sunday, another sunny day, we headed for the Bristol Zoo, another attraction that I had passed every day on my walk to work, but had never visited. I had thought we would only spend a few hours there, and being the ambitious planner that I am thought we may be able to do the zoo and go to Bath in the same day. Boy was I wrong. Despite its seemingly modest size, Bristol Zoo is a full day affair. We arrived around 11:00am, and when the zoo was closing at 6:00pm, we hadn't seen everything.

It is a nice zoo as zoos go. There is a great seal tank with a glass tunnel where the seals swim right over top of you. They also respond to chip bags. Some kids were swirling them round in circles as the seals would follow. They have a great gorilla enclosure as well, and we were fortunate enough to catch feeding time. The eighteen month-old gorilla was fascinating to watch, so small compared to the alpha male. There is also a nice lemur exhibit. One of the great patrons of the zoo is British comedian John Cleese, who went to school across the street at Clifton College, and loved visiting to watch the lemurs. The zoo's current collection has him to thank no doubt.

After our visit we walked back toward the Suspension Bridge. Since we had seen it from close and afar in the evening I figured, to get the full advantage of the great view, we ought to see it in the daylight as well. We continued on through Clifton Village and then headed back toward the hotel.

On Monday, I went to work, and Mom and Dad found themselves, for the first time, on their own in England. They were starting to know their way around Bristol a bit so I wasn't too worried about them. They managed to head into Clifton Village and then down to the waterfront. After work I went to the car rental place to pick up the car that would provide us with slightly more comfortable transportation on our next leg of the journey. It turned out to be a Vauxall Corsa, which was more than adequate for our travels. It also gave us the opportunity to offload some of Mom and Dad's luggage. That evening, after they packed what they needed for the next few days, I loaded their big suitcases in the car and brought them back to my place for storage. The plan was to leave for Somerset in the morning. I had already booked us in at a bed and breakfast.

The adventure continues southwest.

Cheers.

The Parents Have Landed

Three days of hustle and bustle in Europe's biggest city.

Mom and Dad's flight into Heathrow landed a half-hour early, which was fine by me, as it meant a half-hour less to wait before they emerged from the gates... or so I thought. It was well over an hour before I saw them, my neck sore from straining to see over the taller people in front of me.

After the initial greetings and exhalations of relief, we settled in to relax a bit with a coffee. They presented me with the dill pickle chips that Darryl had sent through. It had, after all, been nearly a year since I'd tasted this Canadian treat I had so taken for granted. We soon made our way, heavy bags in tow, to the train terminal to catch our ride into Central London.

Once at Paddington Station we had to catch the Tube to Euston Square. This was Mom and Dad's first ride on the Underground, and though it was short, it's not the most pleasant of journeys when hauling luggage. Of course we did have the option of taking the Tube all the way from Heathrow. I think they were happy that we took the train instead. A few blocks farther than anticpated walking, and we eventually reached our accommodation in Bloomsbury: St. Athan's Hotel.

We were too early to check in, so we left our luggage and popped to the Brunswick for a nibble. While there, we stopped into the Waitrose. Dad expressed interest in seeing a grocery store and the prices. Of course, a Waitrose in Bloomsbury will hardly give an idea of the typical prices of things, but it was interesting for them nontheless. It was strange to me, to be in a random grocery store in London that I had visited before. We grabbed some sandwiches and drinks and sat out in the central plaza with the pigeons and old-age pensioners.

Back at the hotel, we settled in. Dad had a short half-hour nap, and Mom unpacked, while I fired up the computer to see how good the Internet connection was. I was quite pleased with my choice of hotel. It's not easy to find reasonably priced accommodation in London that isn't a total dive (as we'd find out later).

Once we were up and around again, we sauntered around the Bloomsbury area, stopping in at Josie's ceramics shop to say hi. We hit the Tube again and headed for Covent Garden. I figured it was as good a place as any to start the tour of London. It was getting to be about 5:00pm by this time so many of the shops were starting to close, but there were hordes of people about as the restaurant life began to pick up. There were street performers in front of St. Paul's Church, one of which ended his show by juggling a running chainsaw under his leg. We also saw a string quintet playing in the lower ground floor of one of the open market buildings. Mom and Dad were holding up. I had to keep them going until nighttime, so the jet lag didn't get the best of them.

Since we were in the area, we swung by The Maple Leaf for some Canadian atmosphere. We were feeling a bit peckish, so we ordered ourselves some chili chips with Sleeman's and Moosehead. It was the first time I'd had a Moosehead in a while. By the time we emerged from the pub it was dark. We wandered around a bit, and then hit the Tube again, bound for Leicester Square. There was a hoarding fence up at the Odeon, so I knew there was a big premiere happening. It was for Tropic Thunder, starring Ben Stiller, Robert Downey Jr., and Jack Black, all of whom were present. We didn't really see much though, save for a couple of limos and paparazzi.


I decided it was time to show Mom and Dad the famous Houses of Parliament and London Eye, so we got back onto the Tube (making our all-day passes well worth their price), and alighted at Westminster. They opted to see Big Ben (well the clock tower that people call Big Ben despite it actually being the bell that bears that name) from across the street. We came up across the street from Parliament, with the Millennium Wheel visible to the left. As we turned to the right, the well-lit Palace of Westminster came into view. We then headed across Westminster Bridge to get the full panorama.

We lingered about on the east bank for a bit, resting on a bench. I was amazed that Mom and Dad were still awake, though Dad did do a few head bobs while we were sat there. We crossed back over the bridge again and then headed down Whitehall, past Trafalgar Square and back to the Leicester Square Tube station, to make our way back to our hotel. I think I had put them through enough for one day.

The following morning we gathered in the dining room downstairs for our Full English Breakfast, included in the price of our stay. This was to be a constant at nearly every accommodation. It gave us the fuel to keep going during the day without having to eat regularly.

We decided, after reading through the pamphlets provided by the hotel, that we might benefit from getting the two-day London Pass, which would allow us entry to dozens of attractions, without having to stand in a queue to buy tickets. As long as we visited enough attractions in the two days to pay the original price of the passes, it would be worth our while.

We first headed out to St. Pancras Station to look around and catch the Tube. St. Pancras was recently re-opened after its refurbishment and is one of the grand Victorian stations of London. It was the largest train shed of its kind when it was first built in the early days of the railroad. We marvelled at the prices of Dom Perignon at the platform-side champagne bar and looked at the sculpture called The Meeting Place by Paul Day. It was originally supposed to depict a couple kissing, but was deemed too risqué for the British public. Many Brits see the sculpture as being a bit bland as public art goes.

Back at Victoria Station we picked up our London Passes and then headed out to find Trafalgar Tours, where we would be gathering a week-and-a-half later to begin our four-day Taste of Britain tour. We found it and verified our reservation before heading off toward St. James's Park. I was hoping to stumble upon Westminster Cathedral, a little-known landmark, and a great piece of architecture. Unfortunately I was a bit turned around, and ended up at Westminster Chapel instead. We carried on into St. James's Park. Mom marvelled at the flowers, surprised at how lush they were so late in the year. The weather was nice and the sun was shining for the first time in what seemed months. I ensured Mom and Dad that this sunshine was not normal, though much of the same was forecast for the coming days. Talk about timing a holiday just right. Perhaps Zoom Airlines demise was just what we needed to ensure the sunshine would coincide with their visit.

We came out the other side of the park at Clarence House, the home of Charles, Prince of Wales and his family of future monarchs. Mom and Dad posed with one of the stern-faced guards, who very rudely did not reply when they asked if they could have their photo taken with him. We continued up to Buckingham Palace, the Canada Gate, and the Canadian War Memorial. As has always been the case when I'm at Bucks House, the Queen was not in.

Walking through the side streets back toward Victoria Station, we stopped in at a pub to have a bit of lunch and sort out which attractions we were going to see that day. Some workers were jackhammering in the property next to the pub, which made for an amusing atmosphere. The owner was quite put off, and decided to ask the workers to stop. They did, for a short while, and then continued on again. The noise didn't put us off our food or our decisions about where to go. We figured we'd head east and make our way back toward the west.

As luck would have it, our walk back to the station brought us to Westminster Cathedral after all. We entered the dark church to see that restoration work was being done on the interior. The entire ceiling was covered in scaffolding, which was itself an impressive sight. The black brick of the ceiling was barely visible through the breaks in piping, but the sense of the structure and dark atmosphere was still present.

We eventually made our way via the Underground to London Bridge. I had hoped to stop in at Borough Market to the west of the bridge, but our time was running out, and we had yet to use our passes, so we went east toward Tower Bridge. Our first stop was London City Hall, where I had anticipated getting to the roof deck to take in the great view there. Unfortunately there was a private function being prepared up there and we were turned away. Apparently Mayor Boris Johnson was returning from Beijing and having a big do for the Para-Olympians. We headed across to Tower Bridge. I was becoming ever wary of the time, as I had hoped we could do Tower Bridge and the Tower of London before closing time. It was not looking feasible, so we took our time at Tower Bridge. We even got to see the bridge open up to let a tall ship through.

Our passes allowed us a trip on the City Cruise down the Thames, which would serve as both a scenic tour of the most central part of London, and a ride back to the West End. There was a beautiful evening glow descending, which gave a nice light to our cruise. We had a proper cockney guide, telling us what we were seeing over the loudspeaker. The cruise took us from the Tower, with Tower Bridge forming the backdrop of our departure, under several bridges to the London Eye and docking at Westminster across from the Houses of Parliament, where we had come out of the Tube the evening before.

Since we were in Britain and everything closes at 6:00pm, we were running out of options for places to go on our London Passes. There was, however, the Chelsea Physic Garden, the oldest botanical garden in London, which was open until dusk. The sun seemed to go down around 7:00pm, so I figured we might just get there in time. We got off at Sloane Square and walked the fifteen or so minutes to the garden. Of course, when we arrived, it was locked tight. So we made our way back the way we came, resting for a time on a bench in front of the Army Museum. Even at that time of day, in a lesser populated area of London, Dad marvelled at how fast everybody moved. There didn't seem to be anybody who strolled at a leisurely pace.

That evening, we did get use of our London Passes, for a two-for-one meal at wagamama. I had wanted to visit one of these for a long time, but had never taken the opportunity. The concept is nicked from the Japanese ramen bar concept. Mom and I ordered the same rice dish, while Dad ordered a ramen (a meat-based broth with noodles). What arrived in front of him was a massive wooden bowl and a ladle. There was enough broth, noodles and fish in the bowl to feed all three of us. I'm not going to lie; I dipped into it quite a bit myself. It did fill us up, and clear our sinuses. We walked back to the hotel a bit slower than we had walked to the restaurant.

Thursday started again with the Full English. We were hoping to get a fairly early start so we could get as much in on our passes as possible. The first stop was the one that we had skipped the day before: the Tower of London. With the passes, naturally, we walked right into the gates, and noticed a tour was starting shortly. Before long a Beefeater with a Northeastern accent emerged and began barking his amusing spiel at the crowd, picking on the odd audience member for added entertainment value. He brought us into the first wardy and then the second, explaining the stories of the centuries along the way. We then proceeded into the centre of the compound, where stands the famed White Tower, built by William the Conqueror. We eventually ended the tour in the chapel where Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, two of Henry VIII's wives are entombed.

From there we were free to wander. Of course we didn't want to spend too long, as there was still much to see, and only a handful of hours left before everything was closed. We ventured into the White Tower and explored the exhibits there, which are mostly weapons and armour. Outside, on the way in to see the Crown Jewels, we spotted Moira Cameron, the first female Beefeater. Ma and Pa posed for a photo. We proceeded in to see the Crown Jewels before departing the tower for St. Paul's Cathedral.

Inside Christopher Wren's great cathedral, we awed at the massiveness of the dome and the intricacies of the stonework. This was the first time I had been this far into the building, as I had only ever been about halfway up the aisle on a previous visit. We sat down on some chairs beneath the dome, and I decided, it being a clear day outside, that I couldn't resist the opportunity to climb the five hundred plus steps up to the top of the dome. Mom and Dad were more than happy to wait where they were as I began my ascent.

The first stage is the Whispering Gallery. From there I waved before carrying onward to the Stone Gallery at the top of a tighter spiral staircase. Once there, I was outside, walking along the balustrade at the base of the dome. The view from here was great. I walked all along the outside, and then decided to carry on to the Golden Gallery, above the dome. This was a 'no-turning-back' decision, as there is one stairway up and another to come down. Luckily I was sandwiched in with a group of German students, who provided moral support. I thought if a bunch of kids can make this climb, so can I. I must say it was a terrifying climb. Rather than a nice enclosed staircase, one must climb open-nosed iron mesh steps. Looking down is not advisable to those who suffer vertigo. At the end of the steps there is a small room with a guard. In the floor is a small window that looks all the way down to the floor of the cathedral, some three hundred feet below. Mom and Dad were sitting there somewhere, but they were too small to discern. I went up the last flight of steps and was soon outside again, above the dome on a very tight walkway (not helped by the score of German students I was sandwiched amongst). The view was great, but I was happy to get back down to the floor, out of breath. Mom and Dad had spoken to a minister while I was away, who mistook them for Americans. They had all had a good laugh about it. We visited the crypt, the resting place of many famous Brits, including Lord Horation Nelson and William Blake, before stepping back out into the sunshine.

From there our plan was to go to Kensington Palace, once home to many monarchs, most recently that of the late Diana. We just made the last entry of the day, and picked up our audio guides. The place reminded me of the Palace of Versailles but on a less grandiose scale. I hadn't realised that Queen Victoria was born and lived there until she became queen. The tour also included an exhibit on the last of the debutantes in the 1950s: noble girls who would get dressed up and attend balls with well-to-do young men. They locked up after us, as we moved out into the gardens. We sauntered through the sunken garden at the back, being entertained by the squirrels and a small family of water fowl.

I was hoping to get to the London Eye as dusk was falling. I had ridden it before on a sunny day, and was looking forward to an evening flight. We made it there just in time, as the lights were beginning to appear across the city. We all enjoyed the great view, although we were a bit disappointed that the Houses of Parliament didn't light up until the end of the flight.

We hung around on the bank and relaxed a bit before heading over to Waterloo Station to grab a bite. This was to be our final evening in London before heading west to Bristol. It had been a very full three days, as three days in London tends to be. We had gotten our money's worth from the London Passes and had seen a lot. I was glad to have ticked off a few things from my 'to see' list as well.

The adventure continues west.

Cheers.