The Grand Adventure that is my life.....

A Walk in an English Garden

bethhhp — Fri, 28 Sep 2012 22:39:00 GMT

Okay, actually it was a walk in a number of English gardens, all part of the grounds around Sissinghurst Castle near -- yes, you guessed it -- Sissinghurst. Which is about 40 miles from Rye. Which required a road trip. But first we had to move out of Cyprus Cottage, located at 2 Cyprus Place, and into Regent Motel, located directly on Cinque Ports Street in "downtown" Rye.

So... the relocation. Well, here's the thing... there are four of us, and we each started this adventure with one checked bag, one carry-on, and a small handheld bag of some sort. Getting all of us and all of our bags into the rental car at Heathrow was a bit of a puzzle in the first place. Then we settled into the cottage, with lots of room to spread out. And we bought things. And then we bought some MORE things. (We are doing our part to help out the English economy.) And then we had to figure out how to get it all packed up and moved to someplace else. So...

I made two trips. First we got all the luggage downstairs at Cyprus Cottage. (Okay, well, I got most of it downstairs, and no, I did not THROW it downstairs either.) And then we loaded the first load into the car. I took all the big bags and a half dozen of the smaller things over to the Regent on Trip #1. At the front desk, I asked if I could bring the bags in and leave them in the lobby before going back to collect Mom, Dorie, and Catch, and the woman said sure, no problem. On about my third trip bringing bags in, she said, "Oh my, you DO have quite a few bags, don't you?" Then I went back and picked up the others and the remaining bags for Trip #2, and we bid farewell to Cyprus Cottage. It was a bit wrenching; I had grown VERY fond of the bathtub. Anyway...

At Regent, I checked in first and then began carrying bags UPstairs. A couple of things stayed in the car boot (also known as the car trunk), but most everything came upstairs here. By way of the STEPS. There is no lift here. So... when we'd gotten all the luggage upstairs and got back in the car to head off to Sissinghurst, the others may have needed their jackets but I needed the air conditioning.

On the road to Sissinghurst (same road we first traveled to Rye back on the 19th; how I ever managed it then, given how tired I was, I do not know) we passed some interesting-to-see things. Like a thatched roof house. That only had thatch on the front of the house. Where people might see it. And we saw a windmill near several oasthouses. (Oasthouses are where hops are dried before they are turned into things like ale and lager.) We went around roundabouts and suggestion-of-roundabouts (the little ones painted on the road that people kinda sorta curve around but mostly drive over). We drove through Hawkhurst, home of the notorious Hawkhurst Gang, a band of free-traders (read: smugglers) that roamed the land in the 1700s, challenging the authorities, who would tax or hang them, and intimidating the locals, who either turned a blind eye on them or simply aided them. And then on the other side of the village of Sissinghurst we found Sissinghurst Castle and Gardens.

Sissinghurst Castle started out in 1235 as the manor house for Saxon pig farmer John de Saxingherste. In 1270 the castle was built as the residence of Sir John Baker, who during the reign of King Henry VIII, held a number of lofty positions and titles. Over the generations, the property changed hands and purposes (Seven Years' War prisoner-of-war camp, Cranbrook Union workhouse, home for farm labourers), and ultimately ended up in dilapidated condition. In the 1930s, poet and gardening writer Vita Sackville-West and her author/diplomat husband Harold Nicolson took over the property and created the first of Sissinghurst's many gardens.

Sackville-West was a writer on the fringes of the Bloomsbury Group, an extremely influential group of English writers, authors, intellectuals and philosophers. She was most well-known for her weekly columns about gardening in the British newspaper The Observer, which led to her own garden becoming famous. From the Sissinghurst brochure: "The garden itself is designed as a series of "rooms", each with a different character of colour and/or theme, the walls being high clipped hedges and many pink brick walls. The rooms and "doors" are so arranged that, as one enjoys the beauty in a given room, one suddenly discovers a new vista into another part of the garden, making a walk a series of discoveries that keeps leading one into yet another area of the garden. Nicolson spent his efforts coming up with interesting new interconnections, while Sackville-West focused on making the flowers in the interior of each room exciting."

Before we actually went to/through the castle and garden, we had lunch in the coffeeshop -- tomato-basil soup and fresh bread and butter. Excellent lunch. And though there were about 19 raindrops that sprinkled on us, turned out my umbrella was unnecessary, which was good, because it is really difficult to spread butter on bread while holding an umbrella. After lunch we made our way down the path for a garden walk.

The garden is entered through an arch in the manor house. The left wing of the building was The Library, open to the public, complete with couches and chairs to sit in and over 4,000 books in shelves all around the room. There was a fellow there working on cataloging every volume in there.

Behind the manor house is a large green lawn, bordered by a variety of beautiful flowers and climbing plants that were working their way right up the building walls. On the other side of the lawn is the tower, with 78 steps to the top. Up we went, Mom and I, while Dorie and Catch explored the grounds. The tower holds Sackville-West's writing room; original furniture and books remain there, along with freshly picked flowers in vases throughout. Atop the tower, the view went for miles across lovely English countryside. It also afforded an excellent perspective from which to take in all the different gardens or "rooms" around Sissinghurst. Mom and I both took lots of photos (yes, I really do promise, soon photos will get added to this journal. I promise!).

Once back on the ground, Mom and I began to wander the garden, eventually coming to an orchard of pleached limes. "Orchard" might not be the right word, because that does not due justice to the two very straight and orderly parallel rows of lime trees, their branches trimmed and grafted together so that each tree was literally growing into the next. Each tree side by side in the rows was connected. And it was there, at the pleached limes (go ahead, say that seven times fast) that we ran into Catch and Dorie. They'd already made their way all the way around the grounds from the other direction, so we continued on in our counterclockwise garden perusal while they went clockwise.

Near the White Garden at the Boat House alongside the moat, Mom and I met up with a garrulous older English fellow and his wife who regaled us with info about the various henges (Stonehenge, Woodhenge, and the Henge at Avebury); the fellow regaled us, while his wife looked on with long-suffering patience and occasionally tried to intervene as if to obtain our freedom. Eventually, with very detailed directions to the henges, we bade them farewell and continued on around the gardens.

Back at the front building we met up with Dorie and Catch, and then we all visited the gift shop. More things were bought, including postcards (shocked, aren't you?), some sweets, and some beautiful wooden Christmas ornaments. Then conveniently, the mobility cart collected us up and took us back to the car.

Once back at Rye, naps were taken, and then we headed to Bailey's for dinner. Dinner was Stilton-stuffed mushrooms for some, and fish and chips for me. The mushrooms were delicious, and the fish and chips were served with the most amazing green peas. Really really good green peas. I ate them one by one toward the last in order to savor them.

Then, to the amusement of and with permission from the waitress, we broke out the Skip Bo cards right there in the pub, on Pub Night #1. Kinda funny really. Played several hands, until Catch had won, and then we toddled back to the Regent and called it a night.

Good thing today was a quiet day...

bethhhp — Thu, 27 Sep 2012 20:25:00 GMT

Otherwise, we might've gotten tuckered out.

Today was to be a downtime day, no big adventures or road trips, just relaxing and vacationing kinds of things. So... we took a little circle road trip instead.

Started out with a leisurely getting-up, having-tea, and breakfasting. We did a little planning for tomorrow's trip to Sissinghurst Gardens, and Mom and I looked at the logistics of going to Salisbury rather than Sunderland next week. Little stuff. Easy stuff. Leisurely stuff.

Next was a walk to the Rye Pottery and Tile Shop. It's about two blocks away, and we've been walking past that shop for a week now. Time to peruse the wares. Mom, Dorie and I all got tiles, which the shopkeeper packaged up most thoroughly in bubble wrap in anticipation of us getting our purchases safely out of the shop and across the ocean.

Then -- since we were so close, after all! -- we made our way to the Mermaid Tea Room for lunch. Wonderful lunch. Mom and Dorie tried the 'mature cheddar and chutney' sandwiches, Catch went with an egg mayonnaise sandwich, and though I originally order a cheddar and chutney sandwich as well, there was only enough cheddar for two sandwiches, so I switched to the Cornish pasty. The sandwich makers must have felt bad about me not getting my first choice, because I got my pasty with crisps (in this case, tortilla chips)... AND potato salad... AND carrot salad... AND mixed salad. Pretty cool. And it was ALL delicious. Dorie had another amazing cider as well, this one featuring organic apples of most interesting names, not the least being Pig Snout.

After lunch we walked back to the cottage and collectively decided that a short road trip, more a drive in the country really, was in keeping with our downtime, so off we went again. First stop was in the town of Lydd, a stop we made primarily because there was a very large, old, castle-ish and beautiful (in a very solid, 13th century, Norman sort of way) church that caught our eye. Turned out to be The Parish Church of All Saints, Lydd, also known as The Cathedral of the Marshes. As we walked from the car toward the church, Mom stopped to chat with two elderly women sitting on a park bench, a small dog at their feet. One of the women told Mom the dog was Daisy, and the conversation turned to dogs. Then the woman told us "We're twins, she's three minutes older." Then they headed off down the walk with Daisy in the lead, and we went to explore the church.

The church is in or at least very near the center of Lydd, and has a graveyard adjacent to it. Near the main entrance of the church is a headstone that reads: "Sacred / In memory of Edward Greenland who fell from the rigging of H.M.S. Barosa of Yokohama and was drowned on the 28th February 1870, aged 17 years. / This stone is erected by Lieutenant C. E. Drake, of H.M.S. Barosa, as a mark of esteem and regard felt by himself and the crew."

Near the church is The Galleon Inn, across the street from a sign pointing toward the blacksmithy, and kitty-corner from The Olde Pette Shop.

After Lydd, we meandered on down the road to Lydd-on-Sea and then to Dungeness Beach. From a bit of a distance we saw two lighthouses and what we presumed to be a power plant. This after driving along for quite a bit beside what we presumed to be a military base. (Turns out both presumptions were right; the power plant is actually the Dungeness Nuclear Power Plant, and the military base is currently used in part for tank training.)

We turned off the main road onto one that seemed to lead toward the lighthouses and then also saw beach cabins, many of them with old fishing boats -- hole-y old fishing boats -- in their yards for ambiance. Near the biggest of the two lighthouses, big enough that at one point it probably had a lighthouse keeper to look after it, was a car park. Before parking, though, we drove a bit further, past The Britannia Inn (a possibly slightly overambitious name for the pub that went with it) and a cafe called The Cafe. We also located the station for The Romney, Hythe & Dymchurch Railway, self-described as "a 15-inch gauge working railway with a fine fleet of one-third scale steam and diesel locomotives." There were passengers in the cars, two adults to a seat, four seats to a car, and not much room to spare. In fact, as we parked back at the head of a wooden walkway out to the beach, we could hear the little engine that could beginning to chug along toward wherever its next stop would be.

Dungeness Beach is a shingle beach, windswept, somewhat barren, with extra-extra-large sand (ie, easy-to-collect stones or, as Catch put it, "gravel to the uninitiated"). The beach also has several large dunes/"sandbars" before the actually sea, with a wooden walkway that leads out across the flatter part of the beach to maybe 100 yards from the first dune. Catch ensconced herself on the end of the walkway, and the others of us walked along, all of us looking for stones and shells.

Up and over the last of the dunes were waves restless with the turning tide. The sky wqas partly sunny, partly cloudy, and the clouds were those big grey, white, and silver clouds that seem so prevalent here. Sometimes the sun was glinting off the waves, sometimes the waves were darkened with cloud shadows. Gulls strolled along the dunes and flew high overhead. Out to sea were a half dozen or so freighters carrying important things to important places. Other folks came to walk, some singly, a couple, and a young family with a baby in a pram. The wind was brisk but not cold. There was a slight salt tang in the air. It was an absolutely beautiful day.

After maybe an hour at the beach, we got back on the road, this time on our way to New Romney for tea. To get there, we drove through Great-Stone-on-Sea and Little-Stone-on-Sea. In New Romney we got distracted by trying to mail a package home (would've cost about $80 to mail a 7 pound package; we passed) and so missed the chance to have tea there, since the tea shops we saw all close down at 4 pm. Intent on having cream tea (tea, scones, clotted cream, butter and jam), we hurried on back to Rye, where we went to Simon the Pieman Tea House on Lion Street near St. Mary's Church. As we were pulling up, we saw a wedding party -- bride, groom, maids and groomsmen, all fashionably dressed -- and The Town Crier complete with bell. As we watched, the party made their way down the hill to their reception, led on by the Crier being very solemn and official, ringing his bell and making way for them to follow.

While we were having our tea at Simon's, Mom overhead another diner ask the server about the tea used in the shop. She replied that their tea is not available to the public, being bought by them directly from the supplier. Exclusive stuff. Also very good stuff.

After the afternoon of driving and beachcombing and salt air and cream tea, naps were needed. We returned to the cottage and rested for a while. Later we went to The Ship's Inn for dinner, and were directed to the table marked "Reserved." I don't think it was really reserved just for us, but it was nice to not have to arm wrestle anyone for a table, given how busy they were. Dinner that evening was spiced parsnip soup with bread all around.

After dinner, it was one last time back to Cyprus Cottage, our snug home away from home. Since we had to check out the next morning, we got mostly packed up before we SkipBo-ed but then out came the SkipBo cards again!

La Mer (or A Day in Calais) (or Our Own French Connection) (or Vive la France!)

bethhhp — Wed, 26 Sep 2012 22:27:00 GMT

This has been such a grand adventurish kind of day (even involved two countries) that it deserves several titles.

Started out at oh-dark-early, which translates in English to about 6:30 a.m. Actually, that was what time I sat down at the breakfast table, so it started even earlier than 6:30... which, as a non-morning person, may cause me physical pain if I contemplate that too long so... shall we just forge ahead?

So... by 7:30 a.m. we were turning from Cyprus Place (the street upon which we are currently staying) onto the road that leads off toward grand adventures... and off we went.

Rather than hurrying along and taking big roads like the M20, we took smaller roads that led across the Romney Marsh again and then up along the coast. En route, we got to see gorgeous skies that Dorie called "Turner skies" for the artist J. M. W. Turner. Well, Dorie, Catch, and Mom got to appreciate the bright shiny clouds while I tried to not get distracted by the bright shiny clouds... bad for my capacity to drive. Luckily (or not, depending on your point of view), I was not highly caffeinated so keeping my focus on the road was pretty simple.

Along the way to Dover, we saw an inn and pub called The Valiant Sailor. I liked that a lot.

We passed through towns with names like Old Romney, New Romney, St. Mary's Bay, Dymchurch (not to be confused with Ivychurch), Brenzett, Sandgate, Hamstreet, Burmarsh, Folkestone and Ashford. Not far away were the towns of Little-Stone-on-Sea and Great-Stone-on-Sea. Love those names.

The day was intermittently bright and sunny, and then it would rain on us, not stormy rain like we had the night before, but more like a rain reminding us: "Do not forget, you are in England, and it rains in England." A polite rain, actually. We stopped along the seawall near Hythe to take photos of the Channel. The waves were most choppy and splashing up against the beach making splendiferous spray. We took photos. Lots of photos.

Got to the vicinity of Dover with forty minutes to go before we needed to check in for the ferry. Took a good chunk of those minutes making our way to the Eastern Docks. Of course, part of our slowness was being distracted by Dover Castle presiding over the city, and the sheer beauty of driving along below the truly white cliffs of Dover.

Got there and got our tickets, then I left everyone else in the terminal lobby while I went to park the car in the parking deck. Around and around and around I went, ever upward, because though there were many empty spaces on the lower levels, they were all roped or barricaded off for some obscure reason. Guess it was the Universe's way of making sure I got to see the scenery from atop Level 8 of the parking deck.

Beautiful. The docks with H-U-G-E ferry ships laid out before me, with the sun glinting on the Channel behind them. And to my back, the white cliffs. I took some more photos and then went to meet everyone to wait for the bus to take us and the other foot passengers to the ferry.

When the bus came to collect us, we all boarded and got taken off to Passport Control first, and then Security. At Passport Control, we all got off the bus, presented our passports for stamping, and then got back on the bus. A few minutes later, we and our baggage got off the bus again to go through security. Imagine airport security without having to take off your shoes. Then some more vigourous twisting and turning through the maze that is the Eastern Docks, and we were let out at the bottom of The Eternal Ramp Up.

We've named it The Eternal Ramp Up because that is very much what it felt like. Up and up and up some more we went. Basically it was a ship gangway that led from the dock level up about four levels to the ferry entry... but those four levels were attained by walking around a square gantry. A mountain, really. Eventually we made it. Should've planted a flag at the top of the ramp. Instead we gained passage aboard the Pride of Burgundy for the Dover-Calais crossing.

We found ourselves a table in the after lounge on the 7th deck and settled in for the journey. Over cups of tea, we watched out the big picture windows and waited for the trip to begin. As the ship got underway and the white cliffs of Dover began to fall away astern, we cleared the seawall around the port of Dover and actually began to feel movement of the sea. The Channel was choppy and a stiff wind was blowing. Though the ferry was BIG, there was enough wave action that it made sea legs necessary. Which was really cool, because it's been a long time since that was needed.

The Pride of Burgundy is a big, big ship. Lots to do onboard. Gaming on slot machines, if one is so inclined (we weren't). Bars at which one can order any number of alcoholic beverages to drink and then double them for £1 additional; didn't do that either (sadly, they didn't offer the same option for tea). There is a shop onboard at which one can buy alcohol, tobacco, and chocolates... I bought a duck. A little rubber duck. An English bobby little rubber duck.

Then Mom and I went up on the aft port weather deck, also known as the Verandah Deck. It was beautiful, sunny, warm(ish), big fluffy clouds overhead. Salt in the air. Sea spray, too. We took lots of photos, of Dover astern and France ahead. From the middle of the Channel, you can see both countries if the weather is cooperating. It was. And then I asked a fellow to take a photo of Mom and me. There, in the Channel between France and England, on a British-flagged ship, I needed the only language other than English that I have any command of -- Spanish -- to communicate with him. That was very very cool. And he most graciously agreed, took a GREAT photo of us.

(I promise, we WILL get photos added to this commentary soon.)

Debarkation in Calais was much easier than embarkation in Dover... the mountain path led downward this time. Got on another bus, got carried to another terminal, got off that bus and onto another one that took us into Calais. Since none of us read the signs on the fronts of the buses, we got onto the city bus that cost €2 instead of the little tiny ferry bus that was free. Luckily, we all had euros. Rode down to the Calais train station, and then hiked back to the city centre. On the way, we saw a very large floral sculpture called La Paon (the peacock). And L'Hotel de Ville, which is very castle-ish looking. And pirates! PIRATES!! Mom took my photo with them. And though they may have been plastic pirates, Dorie did note that they were FIERCE plastic pirates. Ha.

Had lunch at a brasserie. The placemats on our table featured a Wild West show to be presented in Calais sometime in October. Mom and Dorie had soupe de legume (veggie soup), Catch and I went with the croque a vec fromage et jambon (grilled ham and cheese). And, being in France, I of course ordered french fries. Pommes de terre frites, actually. Sounds so much swankier that way.

After lunch, we made our way to the shopping district near the town center. Found a souvenir and gift shop along the way (yes, postcards), and then a bit further along we found a clothing shop, across the street from a lingerie shop, up the block from a pastry shop, and just a bit past the wine shop. All the French necessities in close proximity.

Then it was time to head back to the bus stop to catch the bus back to the ferry. Except it was a long way to walk and a short time to get there (plus we were tired) so we caught a taxi. And got to the bus stop 10 minutes after the bus schedule said the last bus came by. And started to walk back to the train station to catch another taxi, when the bus came by the stop. So we caught the bus back to the ferry terminal after all.

At the terminal we went to the check-in, and encountered the only rude French person of the day. But all the polite, kind and helpful French folk we met throughout the day completely offset his silliness. One of the kind French folk was a man who worked at the terminal information desk. When I asked him where the mail drop was so I could send postcards from France, he was startled to realize he did not have that information. So he took the postcards for me and tucked them into his outgoing official mail. Nice.

Then, after we cleared security again and had our passports stamped some more and got settled in at the passenger departure lounge, I decided it was imperative that we have at least a few French pastries, so I went back out through security, found the cafe upstairs, obtained three pastries that looked apple-ish, chocolate, and meringue-ish, and had them wrapped for take-away. By the time I got back down to the passenger lounge (I had to send the pastries through the xray scanner), Mom, Dorie, and Catch were all sitting in a row... napping.

After a bit, an announcement came along to let us know they were horribly sorry to have kept us waiting so long but due to weather across the Channel (as in England) the ferry was a bit delayed but they would get us boarded soon. Luckily, the "mobility bus" came to the terminal for us, then drove directly on to the ferry and deposited us at the foot of the lift that took us directly up to the top passenger deck of the ferry. That was a WHOLE lot simpler than us trying to scale the Mountain of Perpetual Ramp.

From where we sat, we had excellent views of Calais as we left, and then of the ocean as we got underway. We also had excellent views of the rain as it poured down on us... making us very glad we had finished up our walking around in town when we did. The return trip to England was another lovely ride across the Channel. In fact, spending a few hours in Calais, France, was a nice (and incidental) interlude to two lovely ferry rides across the Channel, and gave us all a chance to practice saying "s'il vois plais" and "merci" a lot.

Upon our return to English soil, we bailed the car out of car jail and headed back to Rye. Rather than taking the smaller slower coastal road, we opted for the bigger faster M20 that got us back to Ashford and then the highway from Ashford to Rye.

One note: when being followed by a car with high beams directly in your rearview mirror, roundabouts come in most handy. Just go round and round the roundabout, roundabout, roundabout... round and round the roundabout, round and round again... and by the time you leave the roundabout the offending car has turned off. (I do want a sign for the top of the car that simply says "American.")

Anyway, made it back to Rye about 9:15 pm, and decided a light supper in followed by some SkipBo was the perfect end to an excellent day.

Simon the Pieman Day

bethhhp — Tue, 25 Sep 2012 20:32:00 GMT

Coffee cake -- a coffee FLAVORED cake -- with fudge icing.

Wash day. We think we've figured out the washing machine. Thank goodness for the directions book.

Round robin input here: (Carolyn) Dorie and I had another nice walk this morning, to the top of the hill and looked out over Romney Marsh at the big fluffy clouds that then turned to big fluffy grey cloouds that drizzled and poured.

(Catch) Beth and I slept in while the active ones ran all over town, then got up in time to go to lunch at Simon the Pieman.

(Dorie) Rain showers here, but there've been heavy rains in the northern part of England that have moved down to Wales and have caused significant flooding.

(Carolyn) We did laundry once we (when all else failed) read the directions for the washing machine. (Note: there is only a washing machine, NO dryer. Everything has to be hung on a rack inside to dry. Which is difficult when it is cold and rainy outside. So there's a drying rack in the bathroom draped thoroughly with various clothing things. Anyway....)

Had lunch at Simon the Pieman. Place was chosen because of its enticing window filled with delectable goodies, which were first noticed by Mom and Dorie during today's aforementioned perambulation. Lunch today: Cornish pasties. Egg mayonnaise sandwich. Toasted cheese sandwich. Fruit cake (that was really more like a raisin bun.) And the aforementioned coffee cake -- coffee FLAVORED cake -- with fudge icing.

Back to the cottage after more shopping. (Well, I had to park the car somewhere and High Street was handy.)

Naps. Another bath (that would be me). Some telly-watching. Dinner in. And early to bed, because tomorrow will be early to rise.... Must catch the 10:15 Dover ferry to Calais!

A Canterbury Tale of our own

bethhhp — Mon, 24 Sep 2012 23:38:00 GMT

Today was another road trip day. Destination: Canterbury Cathedral.

So, this morning we headed out right after breakfast. First we had to make a stop by the grocer (kleenex) and then the bank (cash). Oh, and we also stopped by the Royal Mail office and put some of those postcards we've been buying into the mail. Then we headed for Canterbury. Except a few miles into the drive, we had to turn around and go back to the roundabout (around which you can conveniently drive until you figure out which way you are really supposed to be going) and then head off in the right direction for Canterbury. (However, in the course of our diversion, we did discover the way to Winchelsea, which is another of the Cinque Ports, which is good since one of our (many) missions is to visit each of the seven Cinque Ports... yes, we know... 'cinque' means 'five' in French, but that's a different story.)

The city of Canterbury is about 40 miles and an hour or so of driving away (once the route gets sorted out and all). However, driving near Canterbury is NOT the sort of driving to be done without having had at least some practice in wrong-sided driving. Good thing we'd already gotten that taken care of. The drive to Canterbury took us through the Romney Marsh and the Kent Downs, past sheep and cows and horses and two VERY large pigs, and through some beautiful English countryside. There was also an incredible "tunnel" of trees through which the road ran; the grey, drizzly day and the tree tunnel made for a magical driving experience. However, as noted, the traffic nearer Canterbury was more manic than magic. Actually, it wasn't the traffic; it was the road signs and the roads. Regardless, we made it. Then it was just a matter of finding the Cathedral.

You'd think finding the Cathedral in Canterbury would be pretty simple. Really big church. Famous. Lots of folks making pilgrimage to it. We kind of expected a really clear route.

No.

We found it because we happened to drive by a really large stone wall with crosses placed in it. Then Mom looked up... above traffic... above trees... and saw the spires. We found a car park up alongside the stone wall and then hiked up and around and along the wall until we found Burgate Street. While I'm sure High Street in Canterbury is filled with shops, too, we found pretty much all the shops necessary on Burgate. Were able to buy some more postcards, and some woolen goods at a great sale at the Edinburgh Woolen Mill, and I even bought an umbrella, which came in most handy, given that English weather today lived up to its wet reputation. Then we found the queue to buy tickets to go into the Canterbury Cathedral at about the same time the rain got heavier. Discretion being the smarter part of tourism, we opted for lunch at The Old Buttermarket, which is a pub and restaurant across the square from the cathedral gate.

Yes, we'll tell you about the food again.... I had the best fish and chips I've ever had, with mushy peas, which are also really good. Mom and Dorie both had tomato soup with ciabatta bread. Catch had the Black Pudding Potato Cake. And then for dessert, Mom had the Kentish Bramley Apple Pie with creamy custard sauce. Again, conveniently, I had a spoon, because apple pie is simply an excuse to eat custard sauce. Being kind like I am, I helped Mom eat hers. And it was amazing. Just saying....

Then I trekked back to the car park and put all our purchases from Burgate Street into the car boot while the others got into line to buy our tickets for the Cathedral. When I got back to the cathedral gate, Mom, Catch, and Dorie were already standing inside waiting for me. I joined them and then we headed into the Cathedral.

Canterbury Cathedral is most impressive. MOST impressive. One of the oldest and most famous churches in England, it is home to the Archbishop of Canterbury, the leader of the Church of England and the Anglican faith worldwide. A cathedral has stood on that same site for over 1,400 years, though the building itself was rebuilt in 1070-1077. Sir Thomas a Becket was murdered in the cathedral by knights of King Henry II in December 1170. A candle still burns in a central place of honor to commemorate Becket. Numerous archbishops and royalty are also buried there, including Edward, the Black Prince, King Henry IV, and his wife Joan of Navarre.

There is so much incredible architecture and beauty in that building it's not possible to tell you all about it here. There is also power in that place, and in there -- even with all the other tourists and the many, many German students that were there today and everyone else there for whatever business -- in there, you simply KNOW you are in a sacred place. You can feel it. Maybe it's because of all the prayers offered up in there over the centuries. Or maybe because today throughout the cathedral are prayer candles and somewhat private places to pause and reflect, and many people doing so. And at about 4 pm, a priest spoke quietly over a central PA system, inviting all to stop where they were and join her in a moment of prayer, followed by hundreds of voices quietly reciting The Lord's Prayer together.

There are so many historical elements at Canterbury Cathedral, it takes a moment to remember... it's a church. A really big, beautiful one with the most amazing stained glass windows and memorials to so many people, but a church nonetheless.

So... I think anything else about Canterbury Cathedral may need to wait until the photos are ready to add to this journal, or at least until tomorrow when we've all had a chance to digest the experience a bit more.

Till then.....

Sunday, some more

bethhhp — Mon, 24 Sep 2012 09:09:00 GMT

Well, we did as advertised.... went out for lunch, had a bit more exploring of Rye, and then went to Evensong service at St. Mary the Virgin Church and had supper after.

Lunch at Bailey's -- Mom and I had an excellent chicken curry dish... Catch had a soup of pea, asparagus and stilton cheese... Dorie had a vegetarian pasta with tomatoes and mushrooms. Then we went to the Rye Heritage Center, home of the Rye Town Model Sound & Light Show, featuring a model of the town, circa 1832.It was built about 35 or 40 years ago by a local school teacher, then her husband wired it all for light. The voiceover tells about some of the history of Rye, and it's very interesting. Conveniently there is also a gift shop there where we got some more --- wait for it --- postcards! After that we came back to the cottage where naps were had.

About 5:20 pm we headed out again, this time to make our way to St. Mary the Virgin Church at the top of the hill around which Rye is built. Being persistent like I am, I got us all the way up the hill, around behind the church and right past Ypres Castle (the magical moving castle I could not find the other day). Dropped everyone off at the side of the church and they went on in to wait for me while I went off to park the car. Still not sure how, but I turned a corner down a skinny little cobbled street and realized that directly in front of me was one of the main historical buildings in town, Lamb House. Was so pleased with myself, I had to take a picture of it. Which I did. While I was driving. Ha.

So I drove in a big circle all the way down to High Street and then down The Mint to The Deals to Strand Quay, and then.... I made my way all the way back up to the top of the hill and parked... half a block from the church's front door. Yep. Most pleased with myself.

The Evensong service is a traditional Anglican service. The Reverend Teresa Munro officiated. The service is part call-and-response, part singing of hymns, part chanted Psalms, part sermon. Though the church itself was rather cool and drafty ("we try to not light the boiler before October first"), the welcome we received was warm and the service was lovely.

After, we talked with the reverend and the church warden a bit, and then ended up at The Ship Inn for dinner. It's the pubbiest pub we've been in so far, perfect for the cool and drizzly night. There was a fire in the hearth, folks having dinner and folks having pints and an old WWII movie on the telly. For dinner, Catch had calf's liver, Dorie had a lamb chop, Mom had haddock rarebit, and I had Rye Bay Fish Pie. I figured if it had 'pie' in the name, it would probably either have crust or mashed potatoes in it. Either way, it would be a win. And it was. The fish pie was a hearty mix of haddock, cod, prawns, and mussells in broth, covered with excellent mashed potatoes. And it was EXCELLENT. Then to make things even more excellent, we had dessert. Catch ordered passionfruit cheesecake, which was less sweet and more of a gelatin based cake than cheesecake in the States; Mom and I liked it more than Catch did. And I ordered two scoops of ice cream, one chocolate and one cinnamon. Yep. Made dinner even more excellent.

After that it was time to come home and wrap it up. Skip Bo was played, red tea was drunk, and then Catch and Dorie watched the news before bed. All in all.... a grand day.

Sunday, a day of rest

bethhhp — Sun, 23 Sep 2012 20:54:00 GMT

A grey and drizzly day, coolish, quintessential English weather. Woke today to the sound of church bells. Fitting, after falling asleep to the sound of music and laughter from the nearby pubs last night. Mom and Dorie went for a walk; Catch and I slept in. This morning's breakfast was (for me, anyway) hard-boiled eggs and Danish pastries from a bakery on High Street (one of the many things that got gotten yesterday). Oh, and tea.... LOTS of tea. Of course, by now that is probably understood by all you faithful readers... after all, where there is tea, there is hope, and in England... there be tea.

Soon we'll all venture out for a bite to eat... I think Bailey's Pub will be our destination. It's an easy walk away. Then it sounds like we'll be back up to High Street this afternoon. In their walk this morning, Mom and Dorie made it all the way to St. Mary's Church and walked back via twisty turny streets and passageways that led them past some of the High Street shops that were just opening for the day.

So... one more cuppa and then an easy afternoon out, and then... rest. Anyway, that's MY plan for the day!

More later....

Found it!

bethhhp — Sat, 22 Sep 2012 20:13:00 GMT

So as mentioned in the previous post, today's adventure was to explore Rye. And we did. Well and thoroughly. Ha.

Day started out with tea and toast at the cottage (all days have started out that way, truth be told). Then we ventured out, armed with maps and guidebooks and British pounds and charge cards. We were ready.

It is still a multi-person evolution to get the car in and out of the garage. Seriously. I have to tuck the sideview mirrors up against the body of the car, ignore the proximity alarms, roll the windows down, and listen to Mom, Dorie and Catch as they let me know if/when the street is empty so I can back out and if I am getting too close to things that might rip the car up.

So... once that all happened, we saddled up and headed out. First place we went was to High Street. Like many places in Britain, High Street is a primary source of places to buy things. It is full of stuff shops, and boy, did we find stuff. LOTS of stuff. Good stuff, too. Shopping happened. Things got bought. I only made one run back to the car to put bags and bundles into the trunk, but by the time we got back to the car with the last of our parcels, well... We got stuff.

So anyway, we worked our way down one side of High Street for about three or four blocks, and then crossed over the street and worked our way back up. We stopped at The Mariners tea shop for lunch. Today's menu: Mom, Dorie and I all had stilton and bacon (also known in the U.S. as ham) paninis (on baguettes... long and skinny and yummy), and Catch had an egg mayonnaise sandwich (also known as egg salad. Of course, we all had tea.

Then, en route back to the car, yet one more shop was found, entered, and shopped thoroughly.

From there, I made my first effort to find the castle. (Color commentary from Mom: "I think we circled the town." And Catch: "And criss-crossed it a few times." I was on a MISSION, people!) No luck.

Rather than exasperate everyone, we headed off for Camber Sands... once I figured out which direction to go. (See, the main map we've been using is oriented upside down -- North on the bottom, South on the top... most discombobulating.)

Camber Sands is a beach about 8 miles EAST of Rye (if you tip the map upside down, it makes more sense). Descriptors from Dorie, Catch and Mom: Nice beach. Sandy beach. Fine sand. Almost like dust. Tan sand, not white but not black. Sprinkled with shells and stones. Small stones. V--e--r--y wide beach, with sand dunes behind them. With a surprising number of people in the water, including little children. Tiny toddlers.

Catch stayed near the cafe and people watched. One person was a little girl, about two, who flomped face down in the sand, rooted along about two yards on her belly and face crying and screaming and having a fit (in opposition to her mother), then hauled herself up, brushed her face, and carried on. Catch: "You found rocks; I found a kid."

The sky was magnificent. Fluffy white clouds. Water and sky, seems so vast.

Many shells and rocks were collected. Dorie, Mom and I wandered along the beach finding all kinds of treasures, and running out of room for carrying them.

A pick-up cricket game between little boys and their various dads got picked up and moved about halfway through since the rising tide was encroaching on their sand-drawn cricket pitch.

A girl was practicing her soccer kicks as her mom valiantly tried to defend the picnic hamper goal line.

There were windsurfers on the water, some in wetsuits, some just in trunks trying to not shiver visibly.

There was a set of tire tracks along the beach that... just... stopped. No idea where the vehicle that belonged with the tire tracks came from or went. Mom and I theorized that an amphibious vehicle of some unknown origin either took off an d sailed away or landed and drove off. Who knows? Maybe it was James Bond. This IS England, after all.

After we wandered along the beach a while, and Catch wandered along the cafe deck, we reconvened at the car, emptied pockets and hands of shells, rocks, and other treasures, and set back off for Rye. On the return trip we made a couple of photo stops -- one for some beautiful swans that were pretty much posing for us, the other for attempted photos of Rye from the distance. The second endeavor wasn't so effective, so I drove slowly along (incurring curses, I'm sure, from the drivers behind us) as Mom and Catch took photos out the car windows.

Once back in town, I returned to my original mission: FIND RYE CASTLE. (Well, after we made our first stop at Budgens grocers for rooibos tea and eggs.) I warned everyone I was intent on finding the castle, and when it was suggested that I could try once, I suggested back that I could drop them all off and go in search myself. However, we stayed together and drove round in circles and up one skinny street and down another until... WE FOUND IT!!! Well, we found the Landgate, which is huge stone gate leading up the hill. Up through there we found the signs for the castle and the Rye Museum. No parking, of course. Then again, the point wasn't to GO to the castle today. It was just to find it. Which we did. So I was satisfied. And then we made one more stop at Budgens for bread and more peanut butter (which IS a basic food group, after all), and made our way back to the cottage.

And now... our adventures of the day have been recorded. I guess it's only fair to note some of the various stuff that got got today, too, huh? Well, let's see... postcards. A pin. Woolen goods. Did I mention postcards? Candy. Sweet rolls for Sunday breakfast. Books. Oh, and some more postcards.

Okay, that's it for today.

Skip Bo, anyone?

The Battle of Hastings

bethhhp — Fri, 21 Sep 2012 21:15:00 GMT

Busy day today. Went on our first road trip, bought our first Cinque Ports postcards and a pay-as-you-go cell phone for in-country use and postcard stamps, and had our first cream tea.

Today we drove to Hastings and then on to the town of Battle, site of The Battle of Hastings, fought in October 1066 between the English and the Normans. Battle Abbey dominates the town and is where we spent most of our day. However, before we recount the story of our afternoon, it seems only fair to tell you about the getting to Hastings and all. In other words, the "road" part of the "road trip."

Well, driving on the left side of the road is becoming more 'normal' (which is strange enough) so getting around Rye is much less stress-inducing. And driving on country roads isn't too stressful in and of itself. Apparently the Universe decided I was ready for a bit more of a challenge. So... road signs.

The triangular sign with an elderly couple silhouetted on it? "Frail crossing." The sign that looks especially like a candy cane? "You are about to make a turn so sharp that you are going to meet yourself again." And in England, even the traffic signs are polite -- when the speed limit is reduced, a sign asks "Please drive safely" and then upon resuming the former speed, another sign says "Thank you for driving safely." The buses are polite too... we saw a bus heading back to the garage that said "Sorry, I'm out of service."

We made it to Hastings without incident, and found it to be a largish place with lots of cars and people and buildings. Descriptors: congested, busy, a bit down at the heels, gritty... castle ruins in the middle... AND you can see the sea from the town center. We went to Phones4You, where we bought a little pay-as-you-go phone for use in England... on the same day the IPhone 5 came out. We found a Royal Mail office where we got postcard stamps and sent a couple pieces of mail out; by the way, "just up the street" means at least four blocks. We found a gift shop that had lots of postcards, and bought some (have to have something to use the postcard stamps on, right?). Then we found our way back to the car, and also found a building with a placard saying children's author Lewis Carroll used to visit residents there.

Five miles on past Hastings is the town of Battle, dominated by Battle Abbey. The abbey was built to atone for all the deaths that occurred in that place in October 1066. Before we went into the abbey, we stopped at The Pilgrim's Rest, a pub in the shadow of the abbey walls, where we had lunch. Catch went with a traditional Ploughman's Lunch. Dorie had a pureed carrot-tomato soup that she said tasted like her daughter Anne had made it, washed down with hard cider made from 17 different kinds of Irish apples. Mom went with Welsh rarebit. And I had The Warlord. Okay, it was really just a tuna melt with REALLY good cheese on ciabatta bread, but you gotta love the name!

After lunch, we went to the Abbey. There we each bought the audio tour; it's a recorded tour coordinated with different places and placards throughout the grounds. The tour actually begins with a short film in the visitors center that sets the historical context in which William of Normandy led an army to Hastings, where he ultimately defeated the English army of King Harold and gained the throne himself, marking the beginning of what became modern England.

Then we hit the paths around the abbey for the actual tour. The narration was exceptionally well done, informative and engaging while also being very moving. The story of the Battle of Hastings was laid out for us, and evoked powerful emotions as we stood on the same hill the English army occupied on that day so long ago, a Norman army 10,000 men strong arrayed in the valley below them. Using graphic descriptions, very effective sound effects, and frequent references to the landscape and buildings surrounding us, the tour called clearly to the mind the violence of the battle and the resultant carnage. Despite the present peacefulness of the valley, filled now with harvested hay, tall trees, heather and roses, and birdsong, we could envision the 7,000 men who died there during the 14-hour battle. None of spoke much as we made our way past the battlefield then around the abbey ruins and the crypt, back to the Gatehouse where the giftshop was conveniently located. We all got some souvenirs and then we were ready for a snack. We stopped at The Taste of Battle and had cream tea and then headed back to Rye.

Once we got back to Rye and got the car tucked back in to the garage, we got ourselves tucked back in to the cottage. Made some Skype calls, played some Skip-Bo, and listened to a 35-minute audio tour of Rye we found online. Tomorrow's mission: find some of the places on that tour, including Rye Castle, and then check out the beach at Camber Sands.

Made it!!! (Took long enough....)

bethhhp — Thu, 20 Sep 2012 19:39:00 GMT

Well, we are now in Rye, England. The travel adventure that became a travel saga has regained its adventure status.

The saga part? Getting here. Plan: leave St. Louis Monday afternoon, fly to Chicago, and then on to London overnight to get into Heathrow at about 8 a.m. Tuesday. Reality: first flight cancelled too late for us to catch any other England-bound flight off the East Coast; spent the night in St. Louis on American Airlines' dime; flew to Chicago at 6 a.m. Tuesday; had our 9 a.m. flight to London canceled; got rerouted to Miami, and then from there to London Tuesday night. Got into Heathrow yesterday morning, after too much stress and not enough sleep. Amazingly, despite all the reroutes and delays, all our luggage arrived with us. Collected our car, managed to get all our luggage and selves into it, and then we got on the road.

Learning to drive the car was an adventure in itself, given the sleep deprivation and all. Luckily, on the way to Rye, we found Blue Boys Cafe, where we had an excellent lunch of beef vegetable soup (heavily flavored with leeks, we think, and absolutely delicious) and hot crusty bread with butter. And good, hot, STRONG tea. A bit more driving through beautiful English countryside and we found ourselves in The Ancient Town of Rye.

After a number of twists and turns (the streets are VERY twisty, turny) we found Cyprus Cottage, which is our home away from home until September 28th. The cottage is a semi-detached two-story home in a building dating from the mid-1800s. It's snug, very well-maintained, bright and nice. Downstairs are a living room, dining room, and very nicely appointed kitchen. There's also a convenient half-bath. Upstairs are two nice bedrooms, each with two twin beds, and a big bathroom with a wonderful deep bathtub and a separate large free-standing shower unit. There is also a most efficient hot water heater (I've had three hot baths since we've been here).

The cottage is accessed via a smallish decked and fenced courtyard, which in turn is accessed from the street through a tall gated fence or the garage. Now, that garage is billed as being large enough to accommodate a 4-door VW Golf, which is just the kind of car we are renting. What the landlady did not mention is that the garage is exactly big enough to accommodate a VW Golf, if said Golf is pulled so far forward that its front bumper is touching the conveniently placed carpeted piece of wood attached to the wall (that should have been a clue), and if the garage door is squeezed down past the rear bumper with maybe 1/8" to spare. Maybe. Regardless, I got that car in there, though its proximity sensors were screaming the whole time.

Yesterday, after we managed to get the car unloaded and parked, and after all the luggage got hauled upstairs, naps were taken and quiet time had. Then we went out and had dinner at Bailey's Pub, a couple blocks from the cottage. After that, we came back here, made some Skype calls home, and then pretty much collapsed. None of us had slept too well since Monday morning.

Today we got off to a late start, some of us (read: me) later than others. By noon or so, we headed out for a bite of lunch at the Mermaid Tea Room, then some browsing in antique shops on The Strand. After that, we stopped at Budgens for some basic provisions, including peanut butter. Then with groceries and a few treasures in tow, we made our way back here for a bit. Later we went in search of cream tea but were too late for that so came back to the cottage and had our own version of ploughman's lunch for dinner -- cheeses, crackers, apples, berries, grapes. And now... Skip Bo seems to be in order.

Oh, and a really cool thing? Old Batman reruns are on afternoon TV here, the same ones with Burt Ward as Batman and Eartha Kitt as Catwoman that I used to watch as a little kid. In fact, earlier when I was online, Mom, Dorie, and Catch were in the living room watching Batman, Robin, and Batgirl take on Catwoman and the Joker. Funny.

Okay, enough for tonight. More soon!

The day before....

bethhhp — Sun, 16 Sep 2012 08:42:00 GMT

Tomorrow the England adventure begins. My mom Carolyn Doyle, and my aunts Dorie Draper and Catch Prickett will meet me in St. Louis (hey, that would make a great song title) at Lambert Airport. From there we fly to Chicago and then on to London's Heathrow Airport. And then I will learn how to drive on the wrong side of the car and the wrong side of the road.

I'm starting this online journal so folks here at home will be able to follow our travels. Hopefully, it will be an easy way to share our adventures and photos and any international incidents we create. And hopefully you'll enjoy it!

So... More soon.....