So to back track a few days... We really did have a great time in Lancashire and enjoyed the countryside immensely. Final days we toured inside Leighton Hall (without Horace the intrepid Indian guide by our side) and even though the hall itself was not a super important structure, our guide, Pearl, made it so entertaining. Pearl gossiped her way through the entire house, giving us the juicy details on all the past owners. Now THIS was the type of English tour I was hoping to have. Fun stuff, and again lovely gardens and a close up personal encounter with a baby owl.
We crammed into the rental car again and drove 3 hours to Holyhead to drop off the car and board the ferry to Dublin. The drop off of the car went OK, but the guys had to hot foot it back to the ferry 2 miles away as they couldn't catch a cab. Huffing and puffing they made it in time(Brent- towards the end of our two mile jog, I was singing the running chants I learned in airborne training to myself. "C-130 rollin' down the strip. Airborne daddy gonna take a little trip. Stand up, hook up, shuffle to the door. Jump right out, and I count to four...". Post traumatic stress reaction to running that far, I guess. Not something I've done lately) , and after some fairly rude and hard to understand security checks we made it on the shuttle, then to the boat. The ferry was not what I expected, and it was actually fairly luxurious. Smooth sailing, pretty good food and tax free shopping on board.
Dublin was bright and sunny, and we got a taxi direct to the apartments. Our apartment is on the 3rd floor with big windows overlooking the city. The first night there was a concert playing at the big stadium - so we got a chance to hear The Script for free! The show was sold out, lots of people crowding the neighborhood, and pretty noisy til around 1AM. We were all tired, and I've gotten a virus that's slowing me down.
Brent - Sunday, day one in Dublin, we walked down to the city center, a walk of a mile or two. Just a nice stretch of the legs. Our first stop was at a tourist information office near Trinity College. There, we planned our itinerary for the entire week. The first two days, we'll spend touring Dublin. The first thing we did was book a Pat Liddy Walking Tour of the Dublin city center. They provide a guide who walks you around several miles of scenic attractions, describing the various sights, taking you into a variety of venues to give you a good overview of what is available to see in the city center. The tour takes 2.5 hours, and was a lot of fun, and gave us further ideas on what we might want to see in greater detail later in the week.
After finishing the walking tour, we walked back to the apartments to change clothes, and to buy each of us a one week pass for the city bus lines. Once we got back to the apartment, we stopped into a local shop and discovered that they only sell the bus passes back inthe city center! Doh!! Well, exercise is good for you, so after changing clothes we walked back to the city center and bought the bus passes to use for the rest of the week. From there, we hustled over to a local Pub to catch the Musical Pub Crawl we had scheduled earlier in the day at the tourist office.
The pub crawl was fantastic. We had a gal on fiddle, and a guy who played the guitar and a traditional Irish Drum performing all sorts of Irish music for us. The official tour wandered to 3 different bars, but after the last bar, the guitar player let it be known that he was continuing on to yet another bar, and if anyone wanted to follow him, we would be more than welcome. Well, how could we resist that! When we finally finished, the buses had stopped running, we we made the long walk back to the apartment yet one more time. This was probably just as well, since it helped us walk off some of the Guinness we had consumed, so by the time we finally rolled into bed Sunday night, we were feeling quite virtuous for all the exercise we had done! (hic)
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
Busy, busy, busy...
Sorry for having gone silent for a couple of days, but things have been proceeding at a hectic pace. We'll cover this in greater detail later, but for now, we left England by way of a ferry from Holyhead, Wales to Dublin, Ireland on Saturday. The ferry ride took 3 hours, and was very smooth and comfortable.
Upon arriving in Dublin, I took one look at the traffic, and suggested to Steve that we forego renting a car and trying to drive in that mess, and rely on public transportation and bus tours instead. There is so much to see close at hand that I think that will be a good choice, and far easier on my nerves!
To be continued...
Upon arriving in Dublin, I took one look at the traffic, and suggested to Steve that we forego renting a car and trying to drive in that mess, and rely on public transportation and bus tours instead. There is so much to see close at hand that I think that will be a good choice, and far easier on my nerves!
To be continued...
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
The Wharton Scenic Death March.
Walking back up the hill to view Washington's ancestral home, we ran into a most memorable individual. Out in front of the village post office, a spry elderly man intercepted us, and asked if we were Americans. We assured him that yes indeed, we were Americans, and engaged him in further conversation. He had a most unusual accent, which to my ear sounded like a strange combination of what we heard in Scotland, but blended with English and maybe even Irish . I haven't heard any Welsh accents so far, so there may have even been a bit of Welsh mixed in there as well. It had an interesting sound, but was far easier to understand than some of the accents we heard in Scotland.
We mentioned that we were on our way up the hill to see the Washington house, so he offered to show us the way. We talked about Washington, about America, and about a myriad of other things as well. Horace was his name, Horace Stevens, which we thought was interesting, since the maiden name of our grandmother, Florence Glines, had been Stevens. Maybe Horace was a long lost relative!
Horace mentioned that he was walking on a bit further, and offered to show us the most impressive view in all of England. Well, who could turn down an opportunity to see the most impressive view in all England Horace said he was 75 years of age, so we figured, how far could it be?
Horace led us up the hill, still talking 90 miles an hour. He commented on the local architecture, the trees and fields, the local birds and animals, his life as an engineer working on guided missiles before he retired. After we left the town behind, we walked on for about a mile further, and rounding a corner, we were able to view the surrounding country side for miles around. It was very charming, and we paused to take pictures.
"Oh, it's not here", Horace told us. "It's not much further, just a bit farther ahead. I've even seen people from Japan coming up for this!" Well. All the way from Japan! This we had to see.
Walking on a couple of miles further, Horace announced that we were coming up on a very famous local manor house, Leighton Hall. Sure enough, we rounded a curve, and there we saw the gate for Leighton Hall, the very same gate we had stopped at a couple of hours earlier in the day. We had originally driven there from the opposite direction, and we had no idea that we had walked that far. Horace told us that the view point was not far ahead, and that we should be grateful that we had him along as our personal 'Indian' guide, since the trail to the spot wasn't particularly easy to find.
Now by this time, Barbara was beginning to suffer the tortures of the damned. We had all thought this was going to be a short walk, so she hadn't bothered changing into walking shoes, and was still wearing her 3 inch wedge sandals that were slowly but surely flaying the skin from her toes. She was a trooper, though, and taking Horace at his word, felt that she could continue for a short while still.
Horace turned off the roadway, and led us through a path into the woods, and to a kind of crude step ladder designed to let people climb over a gap in a stone wall, but that would keep sheep or other livestock from getting out that way. How charming, we thought. Shortly after crossing the wall, I stepped into a wet cow pie, in my sandals, and discovered the less than charming aspects of our pastoral stroll. From that point on, we kept our eyes on the path, warning of cow land mines as we spotted them.
After about a mile on the forest path, and after crossing another wall or two, we finally came to the view point, and Horace wasn't exaggerating. The view was breathtaking. To the north, we could see the part of the Cumbrian Lake District, and it's surrounding mountains. To the west, we overlooked Leighton Hall, a large country estate surrounded by fields, gardens, and forests, and further on, we could see the river Kent where it flowed into Morcambe Bay. It was well worth the walk, and the opportunity to take many pictures.
After a brief rest, we retraced our steps back to the road, and Horace suggested that instead of going back the way we came, we could take a different way back that was about the same distance, but would allow us to see some additional sights on our way back to Wharton. Well, if it's about the same distance...
We did indeed see a great many additional things, to include an old Quaker church built in 1657, and we passed by a Monastery, which we decided not to add even further distance to our trek to go see. We passed through a couple of additional villages, and walked along roads that made us want to climb over the stone walls when cars would pass us by as a high rate of speed. By this time, it was March or Die time, and Horace was setting a brutal pace. He was a machine. God save us from little 75 year old men.
Part way though our trek back to Wharton, Karrie could tell that Barbara was hurting, so being ever prepared, we paused briefly for the application of band aids to Barb's blistering feet. As we approached Wharton, I mentioned to Steve and Karrie that when we got back to Wharton, instead of driving back to Leighton Hall for the tour, that we stop at the George Washington Pub instead for lunch and a couple of pints. Barbara agreed that was an EXCELLENT idea.
Finally staggering back into Wharton at the end of our forced march, we invited Horace to join us for lunch. He declined the invitation, but came into the pub with us to converse further. We figured that all in all, our 'short' walk to the view point and back covered about 7 miles. We were all glad to have a chance to sit down, and take a load off!
It turns out that the owner of the pub is quite a fan of the United States, and one of his back rooms is a shrine of sorts dedicated to John Wayne. The walls were covered with pictures of the Duke, and in one corner, there stood a life sized plaster statue of John Wayne as well. How could we resist?
All in all, it was an excellent, although very tiring, adventure. We all slept well that night.
We mentioned that we were on our way up the hill to see the Washington house, so he offered to show us the way. We talked about Washington, about America, and about a myriad of other things as well. Horace was his name, Horace Stevens, which we thought was interesting, since the maiden name of our grandmother, Florence Glines, had been Stevens. Maybe Horace was a long lost relative!
Horace mentioned that he was walking on a bit further, and offered to show us the most impressive view in all of England. Well, who could turn down an opportunity to see the most impressive view in all England Horace said he was 75 years of age, so we figured, how far could it be?
Horace led us up the hill, still talking 90 miles an hour. He commented on the local architecture, the trees and fields, the local birds and animals, his life as an engineer working on guided missiles before he retired. After we left the town behind, we walked on for about a mile further, and rounding a corner, we were able to view the surrounding country side for miles around. It was very charming, and we paused to take pictures.
"Oh, it's not here", Horace told us. "It's not much further, just a bit farther ahead. I've even seen people from Japan coming up for this!" Well. All the way from Japan! This we had to see.
Walking on a couple of miles further, Horace announced that we were coming up on a very famous local manor house, Leighton Hall. Sure enough, we rounded a curve, and there we saw the gate for Leighton Hall, the very same gate we had stopped at a couple of hours earlier in the day. We had originally driven there from the opposite direction, and we had no idea that we had walked that far. Horace told us that the view point was not far ahead, and that we should be grateful that we had him along as our personal 'Indian' guide, since the trail to the spot wasn't particularly easy to find.
Now by this time, Barbara was beginning to suffer the tortures of the damned. We had all thought this was going to be a short walk, so she hadn't bothered changing into walking shoes, and was still wearing her 3 inch wedge sandals that were slowly but surely flaying the skin from her toes. She was a trooper, though, and taking Horace at his word, felt that she could continue for a short while still.
Horace turned off the roadway, and led us through a path into the woods, and to a kind of crude step ladder designed to let people climb over a gap in a stone wall, but that would keep sheep or other livestock from getting out that way. How charming, we thought. Shortly after crossing the wall, I stepped into a wet cow pie, in my sandals, and discovered the less than charming aspects of our pastoral stroll. From that point on, we kept our eyes on the path, warning of cow land mines as we spotted them.
After about a mile on the forest path, and after crossing another wall or two, we finally came to the view point, and Horace wasn't exaggerating. The view was breathtaking. To the north, we could see the part of the Cumbrian Lake District, and it's surrounding mountains. To the west, we overlooked Leighton Hall, a large country estate surrounded by fields, gardens, and forests, and further on, we could see the river Kent where it flowed into Morcambe Bay. It was well worth the walk, and the opportunity to take many pictures.
After a brief rest, we retraced our steps back to the road, and Horace suggested that instead of going back the way we came, we could take a different way back that was about the same distance, but would allow us to see some additional sights on our way back to Wharton. Well, if it's about the same distance...
We did indeed see a great many additional things, to include an old Quaker church built in 1657, and we passed by a Monastery, which we decided not to add even further distance to our trek to go see. We passed through a couple of additional villages, and walked along roads that made us want to climb over the stone walls when cars would pass us by as a high rate of speed. By this time, it was March or Die time, and Horace was setting a brutal pace. He was a machine. God save us from little 75 year old men.
Part way though our trek back to Wharton, Karrie could tell that Barbara was hurting, so being ever prepared, we paused briefly for the application of band aids to Barb's blistering feet. As we approached Wharton, I mentioned to Steve and Karrie that when we got back to Wharton, instead of driving back to Leighton Hall for the tour, that we stop at the George Washington Pub instead for lunch and a couple of pints. Barbara agreed that was an EXCELLENT idea.
Finally staggering back into Wharton at the end of our forced march, we invited Horace to join us for lunch. He declined the invitation, but came into the pub with us to converse further. We figured that all in all, our 'short' walk to the view point and back covered about 7 miles. We were all glad to have a chance to sit down, and take a load off!
It turns out that the owner of the pub is quite a fan of the United States, and one of his back rooms is a shrine of sorts dedicated to John Wayne. The walls were covered with pictures of the Duke, and in one corner, there stood a life sized plaster statue of John Wayne as well. How could we resist?
All in all, it was an excellent, although very tiring, adventure. We all slept well that night.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
George Washington's Ancestor's Slept Here
We spent much of the morning booking our ferry trip to Dublin. It turns out that all the ferries leaving from Liverpool are auto ferries that require you to book a car as well as yourself. We were planning on turning the rental car back in when we got to Liverpool, so we had to search for an alternative means of getting to Dublin. Steve got online and found that a little farther down the coast at Holyhead, they have passenger only ferries that take three hours to get to Dublin, which was much better that the auto ferries leaving from Liverpool, at those are slow boats that take 7 hours (!) to make the trip. We called the rental car company to arrange to drop off our car at Holyhead, and to pick another car up in Dublin (it was much cheaper that way than taking the car on one of the Liverpool ferries as well).
After getting all that sorted out, it was much later in the morning that when we usually set out, so we decided to stay close to the resort. Fortunately, there was a fine country estate named Leighton Hall only a few miles away, so we set the GPS to Leighton Hall and set off.
After getting all that sorted out, it was much later in the morning that when we usually set out, so we decided to stay close to the resort. Fortunately, there was a fine country estate named Leighton Hall only a few miles away, so we set the GPS to Leighton Hall and set off.
On a side note, we have decided on a name for our GPS system. We have it set to use a female UK English voice, since in order to get American English, we'd have to have a TomTom CD to upload the different language. The voice setting is pleasant enough, but sometimes she can be annoying, so we have christened her Nagatha Christie.
We drove down yet another series of very narrow English Country roads, (one of which was named 'Snape Lane', which for Harry Potter fans has a sinister connotation), but when we arrived at the gates of Leighton Hall, there was a sign that said that the tours were open from 2 - 5 PM. Checking with the brochure from the resort, sure enough, that's the way the fine print reads as well. We were 4 hours early. What to do?
Well, a couple of miles previously, we had seen a sign that read "Old Wharton Rectory", and we had figured we might catch that on the way back. Since we were so early, we decided to go see that instead.
Backtracking, we drove into the village of Wharton, following a couple of small signs directing us to the Rectory, but after a while, we figured we must have missed it, so we pulled into the parking lot of a convenient Pub. Asking someone who was washing windows outside the pub, he explained that the old rectory was back up the hill the way we had come, but it was only a short distance, so he invited us to leave our car parked there so we could walk back up. Since parking space is always at a premium over here, we took him up on his kind offer (and it seems that every place we have visited so far involves an uphill trudge, anyway, so why should this be any different?).
Sure enough, after a short walk up the hill, we saw a ruined building a short way off the right side of the road. The roof was missing, but you could make out the layout easily, and it was very interesting. There was a large active church across the street with a large cemetary, so we toured that as well. The church in Wharton, according to a history we read, has been active at that site for 1000 years. Out in the cemetary, we met a local resident that presumed we were visiting Wharton because it was the ancestoral home of the family of George Washington. When we told him that we had no idea that was the case, he directed us to another part of the church that had Washington's geneology traced back to the year 1000! It turns out that Washington, according to their records, is decended from the Kings of Scotland at the beginning of the last millenium. His ancestors were prominant citizens of Wharton in the 1600's. Washington's great great great grandfather emigrated to Virginia at about this time.
After leaving the Church, we went back to the pub for the car, and decided to stop for a cup of coffee. The barkeep had a thick Scottish accent, and after talking to him a bit, we decided that he must have been kicked out of Scotland because he preferred Guinness to malt whiskey. He told us there were more historic buildings in town, including a home lived in by Washington's ancestors back up at the top of the hill, so we decided to check that out once we had finished our coffees.
To be continued...
Well, a couple of miles previously, we had seen a sign that read "Old Wharton Rectory", and we had figured we might catch that on the way back. Since we were so early, we decided to go see that instead.
Backtracking, we drove into the village of Wharton, following a couple of small signs directing us to the Rectory, but after a while, we figured we must have missed it, so we pulled into the parking lot of a convenient Pub. Asking someone who was washing windows outside the pub, he explained that the old rectory was back up the hill the way we had come, but it was only a short distance, so he invited us to leave our car parked there so we could walk back up. Since parking space is always at a premium over here, we took him up on his kind offer (and it seems that every place we have visited so far involves an uphill trudge, anyway, so why should this be any different?).
Sure enough, after a short walk up the hill, we saw a ruined building a short way off the right side of the road. The roof was missing, but you could make out the layout easily, and it was very interesting. There was a large active church across the street with a large cemetary, so we toured that as well. The church in Wharton, according to a history we read, has been active at that site for 1000 years. Out in the cemetary, we met a local resident that presumed we were visiting Wharton because it was the ancestoral home of the family of George Washington. When we told him that we had no idea that was the case, he directed us to another part of the church that had Washington's geneology traced back to the year 1000! It turns out that Washington, according to their records, is decended from the Kings of Scotland at the beginning of the last millenium. His ancestors were prominant citizens of Wharton in the 1600's. Washington's great great great grandfather emigrated to Virginia at about this time.
After leaving the Church, we went back to the pub for the car, and decided to stop for a cup of coffee. The barkeep had a thick Scottish accent, and after talking to him a bit, we decided that he must have been kicked out of Scotland because he preferred Guinness to malt whiskey. He told us there were more historic buildings in town, including a home lived in by Washington's ancestors back up at the top of the hill, so we decided to check that out once we had finished our coffees.
To be continued...
The Glines invade Lancaster
We woke to a beautiful day, sun shining, lake side sparkling and geared up for another day of tourism. Lancaster is only a 20 minute drive from Carnforth on the main highway. After a mostly safe journey (Steve came within inches of a wild coach/bus!) we parked in the city and walked some charming cobbled streets to the town center.
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We took the tour of the Lancaster city museum -a most impressive and comprehensive review of the history since Roman times. Leaving the museum Brent realized the weather was going to be unseasonably warm and required shorts to survive touring the town that day. Fortunately in the town square was the British version of TJ Maxx (TK Maxx here) and 15 minutes later walked out comfortably attired. A short walk up a steep hill and we found Lancaster Castle. There was a waiting list to go on the guided tour, so while waiting we got photos of the city from the Priory and got to hear the church bells ringing at noon.
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The ruin was lovely to walk around but there was very odd music coming from speakers placed in the tower. Turns out it was a modern composition created as a rememberance of the Pendle Witches and their trials and tribulations. Eerie whispery stuff with wailing and cries. My taste in music tends more to something with a beat you can sing along with - not something that would scare the willies out of me if it were after dare in this ruin! We enjoyed tea sitting outside on the patio in the late sunshine, then made our way back to the car. We had convienently parked at a grocery store parking lot - so went in for supplies. Food here is much higher priced than in the states, but we have found some bargins. We got dinner for 2: main dish (salmon steaks for us, chicken with sauce for Steve and Barb) side dish, dessert, and a bottle of wine all for 10 pounds (approx. $15 American) Hard to beat that deal anywhere.
Half hour drive "home" and we settled in for the evening with a summer dinner on the deck, and a nature documentary on the BBC for after.
Another fantastic day in the UK.
Our tour guide for the Castle had an amazing facility for dates and places, names and circumstances. I haven't known anyone who could pull facts out of a hat like that since my 10th grade history teacher. The Castle is a working court and prison - and we saw barristors and solicitors (lawyers) in full wig and black gowns in the hallway (yes, they really do wear that get up when in court!)
The Castle has a long history -http://www.lancastercastle.com/home.php , and we heard about everything from as far back as the times Robert The Bruce stormed the castle, the Pendle Witches, and Heraldry in the Shire Hall. I really enjoyed the tour and wished I could be here in the fall for the night time tours with the ghost stories! Chills and thrills. Perhaps some other visit.
After storming the Castle we left Lancaster and drove down to Clithroe to see a Norman Keep ruin.
The ruin was lovely to walk around but there was very odd music coming from speakers placed in the tower. Turns out it was a modern composition created as a rememberance of the Pendle Witches and their trials and tribulations. Eerie whispery stuff with wailing and cries. My taste in music tends more to something with a beat you can sing along with - not something that would scare the willies out of me if it were after dare in this ruin! We enjoyed tea sitting outside on the patio in the late sunshine, then made our way back to the car. We had convienently parked at a grocery store parking lot - so went in for supplies. Food here is much higher priced than in the states, but we have found some bargins. We got dinner for 2: main dish (salmon steaks for us, chicken with sauce for Steve and Barb) side dish, dessert, and a bottle of wine all for 10 pounds (approx. $15 American) Hard to beat that deal anywhere.
Half hour drive "home" and we settled in for the evening with a summer dinner on the deck, and a nature documentary on the BBC for after.
Another fantastic day in the UK.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Lancashire
Lancashire.
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We made it in one piece and got settled in our new digs. Pine Lake resort is situated just outside the town of Carnforth, north of Lancaster. We have a larger cabin than in Scotland with a view right on the water. Swans, Canadian geese, ducks and coots swim nearby and came to visit us for breakfast.
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Dinner that night was at the resort restaurant. Very good steaks and Brent experimented in black pudding which we all had a taste. Black pudding is some sort of patty made with blood and oatmeal - and tasted way better than it sounds.
Again, I am finding England is not America with funny accents. It took me 10 minutes to figure out the shower system here. It is not intuitive, and of course no written instructions are posted since EVERYONE already knows how to use a shower.
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Yesterday morning over breakfast on the deck with the ducks we reviewed some of the brochures and info books the resort gave us for local sightseeing. None of which had a decent map of the surrounding country. So first step of the day was to the resort desk to ask for a map. It's Sunday which means no one with any actual knowledge will be available to answer questions. Same situation driving into town for the visitors center - no maps. Fortunately the truckers gas station down the road had a good selection of maps and we found one that had not only this area, but included Ireland. So now we had a better idea of where we were in the country and proceeded to Sizergh Castle (pronounced "size - er" gh is silent)
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Lovely castle, bit smaller than Dunrobin in Scotland but every bit as old. This place was maintained by the National Trust with docents around every corner - all happy to scoot you as quickly as possible to the next room. If you had a question they pointed you to read the printed material available. The inside of the castle had impressive carvings on the oak paneling - but the furniture seemed a bit shabby with old saggy 1940's slipcovers on most of the chairs and couches. Barbara and I noticed a lot of dust and cobwebs, and figured that was typical for a castle from the 14th century.
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On the other hand - the gardens were amazing, with a very surprising and large variety of Japanese maples. We enjoyed walking around the grounds and had a cup of tea and carrot and ginger soup to revive. I felt very virtuous after eating my veggies and promised myself something "bad" for dinner!
Next stop was Levens Hall. We happened on this location by accident. No brochures advertising at the resort, but happened to see the sign on the roadway and decided since we were in the neighborhood to stop by. What a shock. The hall and gardens were magnificent. Everything inside this beautiful home sparkled and smelled wonderful. Not a cobweb in sight. It was so obvious the place was taken care of with love and consideration for preserving this treasure for the future. Levens has been in continual family ownership for 700 years. The staff were so kind and informed, happy to answer questions with something other than a finger pointed to the reading material. Not as many people crowded in so we were able to examine all the artifacts in detail.
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And the gardens! Gasp! Wow! Speechless! Wait...I have to come up with a few words - this is a blog! Imagine a visit to Alice in Wonderland's world in real life. Fantastical shapes on the topiary, charming vistas at every turn, quirky willow maze with the white rabbit (well he was bronze actually) waiting at the center - and the roses. I never REALLY knew what a rose smelt like until I was in the Levens rose garden. When we planned for the last 2 years to come here I had hoped and dreamed of being in a garden like this. Dreams do come true.
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Steve had the highlight of his trip happen at Levens. They had an example of a steam engine that had been used to carry the cars for carnival rides to various towns. Steve chatted up the engineer and before we knew it he was getting a ride around the parking lot! Good times.
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As we were waiting for Steve's ride to finish we were greated by a charming lady wanting to know if we were going for a ride as well! Happy to be spectators we chatted about our visit and raved about the wonderful condition of the home. The lady said she was so happy we liked it, and explained she had to give the caretaker a feather duster from her closet to take care of the delicate paintings. It was then we realized we were speaking to Susan Bagot, the owner! Her husband Hal joined us shortly after and we had a lovely discussion of the gardens, the gift shop (sigh... if only I had more space in the luggage my wallet would be soooo much lighter!), and Steve's special treat to ride around on the steam engine. Wonderful people and so happy we were able to meet them in person. Run, do not walk to: http://www.levenshall.co.uk/.
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Brent - While we were in the gift shop, we chatted with the cashier, and she asked if we had found any good restaurants. We replied that we had only been in the area for a day, so she offered some suggestions, even though giving dining advice was, as she said, a 'dodgey proposition.' In one of the villages close by, she suggested that we try the Ship's Inn pub, which we found easily, which lay right along side an estuary leading to the Irish Sea. The tide was out, but it was still a very picturesque setting. Karrie had the baked chicken, I had shrimp scampi and chips, Barbara had lasagna, and Steve had a different Italian cheese and noodle dish. Along with a pint of Guinness, a very nice meal in a very nice setting.
On our way out, we chatted with a couple of the patrons, one of whom turned out to be the owner of the place. I was wearing a 'Doctor Who' tee shirt, which received high praise from everyone there, Doctor Who fans all. We then had a long discussion about the Doctor, various actors who've played him recently, and the current episodes. Since we get episodes in the US quite a bit delayed from when they are shown in the UK, we had to insist "no spoilers, please!!"
Karrie - Back on the road again following dinner, Brent set our car GPS to find the shortest route back to the resort rather than the fastest route. There is a real difference between the two settings, it turns out. In no time we found ourselves going from a dual carriage road way to a single lane road, then to a narrow farm road, and finally to an unpaved goat path where the hedges on both sides brushed the sides of the the car! A half a mile later we decided this shortcut was looking like it ended in a farmer's field, so we backed out until we could find a place to turn around. England doesn't need any kind of amusement parks - they have country roads! Very exciting. Resetting the GPS to find the FASTEST route quickly returned us to civilization.
Again, I am finding England is not America with funny accents. It took me 10 minutes to figure out the shower system here. It is not intuitive, and of course no written instructions are posted since EVERYONE already knows how to use a shower.
Yesterday morning over breakfast on the deck with the ducks we reviewed some of the brochures and info books the resort gave us for local sightseeing. None of which had a decent map of the surrounding country. So first step of the day was to the resort desk to ask for a map. It's Sunday which means no one with any actual knowledge will be available to answer questions. Same situation driving into town for the visitors center - no maps. Fortunately the truckers gas station down the road had a good selection of maps and we found one that had not only this area, but included Ireland. So now we had a better idea of where we were in the country and proceeded to Sizergh Castle (pronounced "size - er" gh is silent)
On the other hand - the gardens were amazing, with a very surprising and large variety of Japanese maples. We enjoyed walking around the grounds and had a cup of tea and carrot and ginger soup to revive. I felt very virtuous after eating my veggies and promised myself something "bad" for dinner!
Next stop was Levens Hall. We happened on this location by accident. No brochures advertising at the resort, but happened to see the sign on the roadway and decided since we were in the neighborhood to stop by. What a shock. The hall and gardens were magnificent. Everything inside this beautiful home sparkled and smelled wonderful. Not a cobweb in sight. It was so obvious the place was taken care of with love and consideration for preserving this treasure for the future. Levens has been in continual family ownership for 700 years. The staff were so kind and informed, happy to answer questions with something other than a finger pointed to the reading material. Not as many people crowded in so we were able to examine all the artifacts in detail.
Steve had the highlight of his trip happen at Levens. They had an example of a steam engine that had been used to carry the cars for carnival rides to various towns. Steve chatted up the engineer and before we knew it he was getting a ride around the parking lot! Good times.
As we were waiting for Steve's ride to finish we were greated by a charming lady wanting to know if we were going for a ride as well! Happy to be spectators we chatted about our visit and raved about the wonderful condition of the home. The lady said she was so happy we liked it, and explained she had to give the caretaker a feather duster from her closet to take care of the delicate paintings. It was then we realized we were speaking to Susan Bagot, the owner! Her husband Hal joined us shortly after and we had a lovely discussion of the gardens, the gift shop (sigh... if only I had more space in the luggage my wallet would be soooo much lighter!), and Steve's special treat to ride around on the steam engine. Wonderful people and so happy we were able to meet them in person. Run, do not walk to: http://www.levenshall.co.uk/.
Brent - While we were in the gift shop, we chatted with the cashier, and she asked if we had found any good restaurants. We replied that we had only been in the area for a day, so she offered some suggestions, even though giving dining advice was, as she said, a 'dodgey proposition.' In one of the villages close by, she suggested that we try the Ship's Inn pub, which we found easily, which lay right along side an estuary leading to the Irish Sea. The tide was out, but it was still a very picturesque setting. Karrie had the baked chicken, I had shrimp scampi and chips, Barbara had lasagna, and Steve had a different Italian cheese and noodle dish. Along with a pint of Guinness, a very nice meal in a very nice setting.
On our way out, we chatted with a couple of the patrons, one of whom turned out to be the owner of the place. I was wearing a 'Doctor Who' tee shirt, which received high praise from everyone there, Doctor Who fans all. We then had a long discussion about the Doctor, various actors who've played him recently, and the current episodes. Since we get episodes in the US quite a bit delayed from when they are shown in the UK, we had to insist "no spoilers, please!!"
Karrie - Back on the road again following dinner, Brent set our car GPS to find the shortest route back to the resort rather than the fastest route. There is a real difference between the two settings, it turns out. In no time we found ourselves going from a dual carriage road way to a single lane road, then to a narrow farm road, and finally to an unpaved goat path where the hedges on both sides brushed the sides of the the car! A half a mile later we decided this shortcut was looking like it ended in a farmer's field, so we backed out until we could find a place to turn around. England doesn't need any kind of amusement parks - they have country roads! Very exciting. Resetting the GPS to find the FASTEST route quickly returned us to civilization.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Week 2 of Excellent Adventures in the UK
Good bye to the Scottish Highlands and Hello to the Lancashire countryside. We are currently hurtling down the highway in a tightly packed BMW. Luggage transport for 4 adults + reasonable rental costs for the car = Barbara and I squeezed like sardines in the back seat for the 5 - 7 hour road trip south. No matter - we can compare notes on the views on either side of the drive when we stop for lunch.
Yesterday we spent the day doing a final shop at an outlet mall in Inverness. Got some great buys on Single Malt Whiskey, lambs wool scarves, and assorted other goodies. I have a new favorite cookie - Cornish Ginger Biscuits. Yum! On the way back to the Locanhully Resort we stopped in Carrbridge to look at the very, very old (1750) arched bridge and the peaty brown water rushing under. There was a fragrant Mock Orange bush in full bloom near by that I couldn't resist plucking a few flowers from. I've been gathering a few wild flowers from our locations and pressing them to frame later as a rememberance of this trip. I hope they all make it ok.
Since last night was spent packing we got 'take away' from the Resort Pub. Fish and chips for all - and shared a last pint with Frank, the charming barkeep who regaled us with tales of his time in the British Navy. He also clued us in on the local politics, great routes to take for viewing the Highlands, and not-to-miss sightseeing. When asked about the Scottish Parliment's discussion about the possible seperation of Scotland from England, Frank said that the country was currently split about 40/60 with the majority in favor of staying with the current connection with England. It does seem the 40 percent that is for seperation is very vocal - we are seeing a lot of "Free Scotland" written on barns and bumper stickers.
Prior to bed last night Steve and Barbara took a walk around the resort, and found an obsticle course. Barbara made sure the perimiter fence wasn't electrified prior to Steve making a run on the course! The resort really was lovely, and our cabin had a sun room facing out to the mossy green Aspen forest. We fed the ducks an American treat of leftover microwave popcorn. We are all for sharing our cultures on this trip!
English to American translations:
Chips = French Fries (no salt, no ketchup!)
Crisps = Chips
scone = biscuit
biscuit = cookie
Tatties and Neeps = potatoes and turnips
Bangers and Mash = sausage and mash potatoes
Gammon = ham steak
Lorry = truck
Coach = Bus
Flat = Appartment
To Let = to rent
Lay by = highway turnout
Single Malt = Delux Scotch Whiskey
Tube = Subway/train
Queue = waiting line
Nackered = what happens when you break your vehicle's tie rod
Gob smacked = what the wife's expression is when you break the vehicle's tie rod
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