One last anticipatory trip post and then I promise I’ll shut up about it until after we get back. I can’t promise I won’t do some further research on ghosts and hauntings and even some mildly historical crap though. But I’ll only share the truly engrossing stuff. Which leaves me a big window, since I’m so easily engrossed by even very trivial things.
This morning after breakfast our first stop will be in Chester where our walking tour will take in the Roman Walls, the Cathedral and the black and white Tudor arcaded buildings known as the ‘Rows’.
There’s that dreaded bold ‘walking tour’ thing again. But from the pictures I’ve seen of Chester, that’s probably the most sane way to see the place.
Is that not incredibly beautiful? I hope we still posess the ability to be suitably awed after these many days of looking at things made from rocks. I’m sure the people who live there don’t appreciate this much and take it for granted (granite) (sorry, I couldn’t help it) if they see it every day. Sort of like I find the Rocky Mountains a little ho-hum since I’ve seen them so many times.
It’s quite a different thing to see something man-made. It really makes you wonder at the level of sanity way back then.
That’s some kind of canal along some part of the wall. I really need to make better notes on these pictures. Mental ones aren’t going to serve me well I can tell.
This is the Chester Cathedral. I wonder how starving peasants felt about this building. Oh well. I suppose a lot of people were gainfully employed during its creation. But I’ve always felt that the time and effort put into making these huge ornate churches could have been put to better use building homeless shelters. Maybe I’ll bring up that point. HA! Maybe not.
Interior of the Chester Cathedral.
And that’s The Rows in Chester. Also beautiful. And hell to paint I bet.
From here we cross into Wales and the Wye Valley to view the ruins of the 12th Century Tintern Abbey.
Yay! We can say we’ve been to Wales! No one needs to know how briefly.
The ruins of Tintern Abbey and some meandering Welsh cows. Holy cows, perhaps. There is an incredible wealth of information here: http://www.castlewales.com/tintern.html
including some rather astounding pictures and a very detailed history. So although this day seems short in the tour book, I expect we’ll spend a good chunk of time at this spot.
Finally we drive into Bristol.
Where some of us will be like whiney children – why can’t we go for a ride on THAT bus??
This evening we will enjoy dinner in a traditional pub.
Okay! Now we’re talking! The only thing England has more of than ghosts is pubs. Seriously, how big is Bristol? Not that big, compared to what I consider a big city I’d venture to guess. But there is a listing of Bristol pubs from A-Z that it took me a half hour to read through. Some of the names were dreamed up by extremely enebriated patrons I think. There appears at first to be some method to their madness, like taking a color and putting it together with an object: White Bear (Swan, Lion, Horse, Hart) or Black Cat (Horse, Sheep), Red Lion (Cow). Or, pick a number and add whatever comes to mind: Three Blackbirds (Brooks, Crowns, Horseshoes, Lions, Sugar Loaves, Tuns). And no, I don’t know exactly what a Tun is. Then there’s the ones where they put two sort of related things together. My daughter once worked at a place called The Dog and Duck. I thought that was a weird name. Apparently not. In Bristol you can go to the: Fox and Goose, Adam and Eve, Sheild and Dagger, Ship and Castle, Crown and Horseshoe, Stag and Hounds, Hen and Chicken, Drum and Monkey, Pipe and Slippers, Plough and Windmill, Pony and Trap, Scotchman and His Pack, Tap and Barrel, George and Dragon, Cat and Wheel, Star and Garter, Slug and Lettuce, Fleece and Firkin. I SWEAR I did not make any of those up. Every one of them is a pub in Bristol. Half the population of Bristol appears to be employed in pubs. And the other half drinks copiously. And I don’t know what a Firkin is either.
They also like to name pubs the Old something or other. Like the Old Farmhouse or the Old Flower Pot.
This one is called The Old Mailhouse.
This is The Fish Market. Chances are they do NOT sell fish, except maybe with chips or in liquid form. Like Halibut Lager or something. That one I definitely did make up on my own. Just trying to get into the spirit of things.
This is the interior of the Zero Degrees pub. It’s very shiny.
And this one is The Bag O’ Nails. It has gas lights. I want to go there. I want to take home 2 pints of my favourite whatever-that-says on the blackboard. Well, home to our hotel at least. Which is:
Hotel Marriott City Centre
And suddenly, the last day dawns. More suddenly for some than others I’m guessing.
We make our way to the beautiful city of Bath this morning……
to enjoy views of the superb Georgian architecture and to make a visit to the Roman Baths to test the famous waters.
If that’s algae, I won’t be doing any water testing. I wonder why it looks so GREEN? I wonder what color it was with all those Romans in it?
What do you mean, we don’t get to ride on this bus either? We never get to do anything fun! Our bus sucks. (sighs, stamps foot, pouts) Grown ups can get away with this kind of behaviour by blaming it on things called hangovers.
Then we continue our journey across Salisbury Plain making a stop to visit the mysterious and imposing monoliths at Stonehenge.
I read about a time portal at Stonehenge. My sister and I are going to look for it. If we find it, we won’t be back. I’ll go back in time and live with somebody like Rob Roy. See? I don’t have a hangover. I’m still drunk.
Actually, for all my talk, I’d be voted the pub crawler most likely to pass out on the table after one beer. I just like to exaggerate to make myself seem more interesting.
Then on to Salsibury where we have time to admire the Cathedral and its spire – the tallest in Britain!
Is it just me, or have they taken us to see the same damn cathedral 15 times? It’s the last day, I’ll be cranky if I want. I am never going to be able to keep all of this straight.
Finally through Wiltshire and Hampshire back to London.
Hilton Olympia
And that’s it! Full circle! One more night in London, then back on the train to Gatwick and home to Canada.
I’m going to be spending another four or five days north of Toronto with my sister, so I hope we’re still speaking to eachother. I hope we can put together the biggest most boring slide show on the face of the earth. It’s payback time for all those people who have travelled everywhere – now it’s my turn. This has been great practice.
Breathing Space 