Morning came early -- taking the ferry to England and had to be at the dock by 7:45am to check-in. There's been quite a few novels written about the romance of taking a "slow boat to nowhere" -- those authors have obviously never taken a ferry in England! If I hadn't been with someone who talked me into going topside to stand in the rain and near hurricane force winds looking for whales and dolphins, I would've easily slept the whole way. The wind in your hair, the salt spray in your face, the emptiness of being surrounded by nothing but black roiling water -- makes you appreciate what it would've been like on a saling ship three hundred years ago crossing the Atlantic -- a hard life!
Once we disembarked, our goal was to make a beeline across Wales to Salisbury and Stonehenge. All went fairly well until we hit traffic congestion about half-way there -- then it was speed-up, stop -- speed-up, stop for the next two hours. We also had our first interaction with the British when we missed a turn and ended-up on a jaunt across the city of Bristol -- seems some of the British aren't real clear about the concept of traffic merging when two lanes turn into one. This British "ambassador" went up onto the sidewalk and tried to go push his way in front of us -- failing at that, he apparently decided to tailgate us for the next mile, honking his horn and flashing his lights all while leaning out of his car window shaking his fist and middle finger -- road rage English-style. When the road widened, he pullled up next to us yelling what were probably insults in some totally unintelligible language (Bristolese?) only to get even more upset to see us laughing so hard at his being such an ass -- he then pulled into the opposing traffic lane and tried to run us off the road not quite noticing the oncoming traffic, swerving out of the way at the last minute at an intersection.
Unfortunately, he was just one instance of a stereotype that I've picked-up on since I've been in Europe. In France, I'd read and see reports on television about British males attending sporting events and getting rowdy and out of control to the point that they were banned from attending events in much of Europe. They'd get drunk, be rude, obnoxious and intentionally start fights -- I guess trying to show everybody they're "really baad...". Haven't met many Charles Boyer's or Roger Moore's here -- most British men are probably okay but at least five percent are pushy, abrasive, obnoxious jerks. Early on, I avoided British tourists in France like the plague -- the French despise them but still take their money -- I didn't want anyone mistaking me for being British -- I prefer not to have any additives in my food, or liquids "accidently" splashed on me! The Scots, Irish and Welch also hold no special love for the British and are open about it -- or have been with me. Many American tourists are not-the-best, but the Brits have them beat hands-down for being "ugly"!
Anyway, enough "soapbox" and back to the journey.
That night we stayed in a hotel that had been a stage coach stop for two to three hundred years (very quaint and charming) and ate dinner at a restaurant across the street serving cutting-edge South African cuisine -- talk about a contrast in experiences!
Next day, back-up early again (not sure how "relaxing' a vacation this was for Cindy, don't think she got to sleep-in more than once or twice -- we were up and doing so much early morning stuff) -- had to get to and be on the bus for Stonehenge by 6:50am for an early morning tour. We took a private tour (with 23 other people) that allowed us to actually walk amongst the stones -- normally you're kept at a distance of thirty to forty yards from the stones. Security guards were there to keep us from climbing (or touching) the stones you see in the photos but it's uneven ground and occasionally you accidently stumble or trip ....
It was fun and informative! It was a misty, rainy morning and standing in this huge, stone formation dating back to pre-1500BC was amazing.
Our guide was an archeologist who had (and apparently still does) work on digs at Stonehenge and other Neolithic sites in the UK -- he was a wealth of information. We saw the stones but also other features that your typical tourist never notices -- at one point he had us walking uphill almost two miles across open fields of knee-high grass dodging sheep and sheep poop (impossible to do) in the pouring rain! He promised to show us stuff and he was not to be deterred! Stonehenge is actually a huge complex stretching for miles including burial tombs, constructed roads, villages where the builders lived, etc....
Then it was off to London for "high tea" (or hot chocolate) and to see the Queen!
