sallyky

<i>I'm enjoying your adventures. You have a good eye!</i>

Thanks, stokebailey, I appreciate that a bunch.

bettyk -- I envy you the Ashcroft in the spring with its tulips. I think it will be gorgeous.

sallyky

<b>England – Day 30 – Fri. Sept. 26 – Housesteads &amp; Vindolanda</b>

We had a lovely breakfast, very tasty, and in a room with views over the gardens and of the woodpeckers that visit the feeders. Fresh fruit and croissants were a nice addition to the menu. Perhaps I should mention that all the B&amp;Bs generally had cold foods – cereal, juice, sometimes yogurt, and fruit – out on a table. Guests are welcome to help themselves.

Then, every place we stayed had a choice of the full English (or Scottish) breakfast, or however much of it you wanted. Sometimes I would have cold cereal and then just the eggs and bacon. It was still a lot, but nothing like the whole thing, which I think I described earlier – eggs, bacon, sausage, baked beans, mushrooms, broiled tomato, maybe black pudding, often some kind of potatoes, and toast. A couple places offered both plain toast and fried toast. One offered pain du chocolate, which in our case was a croissant with chocolate inside. Yum.

The Ashcroft also offered porridge (oatmeal), smoked kippers, smoked salmon and scrambled eggs, or omelets.

When we came in last night, we noticed a family from Nebraska had registered, and I decided to have a little fun with them. When I heard somebody with an American accent, I said, “Excuse me. I was listening to you talk. You must be from Nebraska.” Their jaws dropped and their eyes widened because they thought I’d recognized their Nebraska accents. When I told them I knew from the register, they laughed and said, “Of course. Everybody knows Nebraskans don’t have accents.” They also had seen the register and said we, then, must be the Kentuckians.

We walked up to the bus stop and there were the same two women from yesterday. We had a nice chat with them on the way out to the Wall. BTW, one of the buses that take people around the Wall sites is numbered AD122, in honor of the year the Wall was begun.

This trip we went first to Housesteads Fort, the best preserved of the Roman forts along the wall. There’s an information center as you arrive and a small concession stand. Then you pass through a stile into a large pasture, filled with sheep naturally, and have a 10-minute walk up a steep gradient to a small museum and the actual entrance to the fort. The museum has some artifacts and also shows how Housesteads would have looked in its heyday.

We looked around the information center first, and one of our new friends (we now know their names are Jill and Marjorie) came over to ask if we had one of the bus schedules. I said yes, but then I told her if I’d thought faster, I would have said, “No. I thought we’d just look for you!”

Housesteads has a couple things going for it. One is the spectacular view from the ridge top. That was good for the Roman soldiers, who were watching for enemies, but it’s also good for us now to see the beautiful landscape. The openness of the countryside was very appealing. And we could see the wall stretching off in both directions, through a wood on one side.

I think I forgot to mention that the Wall can be up to 10 feet wide and 20 feet high. Some parts have been worn down, or local farmers took stones from the wall to make houses, barns or fences. Other parts are pretty much intact.

The other thing going for Housesteads are the ruins, which can be explored. There are remains of granaries, barracks, a hospital, the commander’s house, the administration building, and even the famous latrine.

The latrine is famous because it is so well preserved, it is multi-seated, and it even has flushing toilets in a way. It was arranged so that water would flow through and carry the waste away. A good description of the ruins, with pictures, and the latrines can be seen at this link. http://www.odysseyadventures.ca/arti...ousesteads.htm

After we walked among the sheep up to the entrance, we found that we were just in time for a free, guided tour of the ruins. We all gathered around the guide and walked out to the ruins where the tour was just about to begin, when Jill and Marjorie hurried up. So there we were together again.

The tour was great. The guide was very good and knew his stuff. He even kept the kids alert and entertained. It would have been wonderful just to see the ruins, but, without the guide, I don’t think I could have figured out what the different areas were for or how they were used. He talked about the layout of the buildings and the fort, and also discussed the influence of the Romans.

The Romans pulled out when they were needed at home to protect Rome from attacks by barbarians. Although some soldiers stayed on in Britain with their families, people locally forgot the Roman skills such as plumbing and building roads, and local governments generally were unable to preserve the infrastructure. As a result, even after the experience of 400 years of Roman rule, England went into the Dark Ages.

After the tour, we went to the concession stand for lunch and learned something about food differences. I saw ham salad sandwiches and we got two. I love ham salad, which I think of as finely diced ham, onion, pickle relish, mayo and mustard, made into a spread. Some folks might add eggs or celery to that.

The sandwiches we got were nothing like that. They had ham with a layer of salad items -- tomato, cucumber, and lettuce -- on top. It was as different as could be from what I expected. I would have called it a ham sandwich.

Anyway we grabbed a quick sandwich and ate at a picnic table with accompanying birds before catching the bus for Vindolanda. It was then we learned the bus system is screwy. Although the information on the web sites strongly encourages bus travel, and even has guides on two buses, the schedule makes it very difficult to use the buses.

We had just missed the noon bus, and the next one that would get us to Vindolanda would not come for two and a half hours. I thought that was stupid. It was my fault for not checking the schedule, of course, but the bus system was so highly touted and people so strongly encouraged to ride, that I thought there would be quite a few buses, as there had been in the Lake District.

We could have ridden to the Park Centre and walked a couple miles, but we feared John’s foot was not up to that. I would love to have walked across country, and there was a path, but we were afraid John’s foot would get worse and we’d be stuck out of transportation range.

When the bus finally came, there was a guide on it, and I told him how unhappy I was about the schedule. He was very difficult to understand, but what I think he said was that there was infrequent service to Vindolanda because the Vindolanda people (private owners, not National Trust) didn’t think they got any more business from the buses and wouldn’t let them even have a bus stop there. Most annoying.

Vindolanda is a Roman fort and settlement, though it is not on the wall itself. Here you can see both ruins and sites that currently are being excavated. The ruins look about the same size as at Housesteads, or maybe slightly more extensive. Some estimates put the time needed a complete excavation at another 150 years.

There is also a very nice museum, but the most notable items in the museum are not there. These are writing tablets on which are written letters home, duty roosters, requests for leave, and things such as that. Although pictures of the tablets and their writings are on location, the tablets themselves are in the British Museum – and we missed them when we were there. I was really disappointed. These are the earliest written records in Britain.

However, the collection as a whole is quite good and is changed as the excavations turn up new objects. There are all the things you would expect in households and forts: bottles and jars, shoes, harness, other gear for the horses, dishes and baskets, sculpture, medical implements, games, weapons, and much more. The objects are well preserved because of lack of oxygen in the ground. We really enjoyed seeing them all.

The museum is quite a way off from the entrance and downhill. Because the last bus to Haltwhistle comes well before Vindolanda closes (also extremely annoying), we decided to tour the museum first and then look at the ruins on the way back. We tore down the hill, figuring it might take us a while to get back, and John tripped and fell, beating up his knee and one hand on rocks. Hadrian’s Wall has not been good to us.

We went through this museum as fast as I have ever gone through a museum in my life. We wish we could have stayed longer, but we had to get back for the bus and wanted to visit the excavations on the way. The complex also has some reproductions of Roman buildings over on one side of the ruins, but we didn’t have time to see them.

We nearly went to Newcastle instead of Haltwhistle today. We and another couple were waiting for the bus, and when we saw it coming, I said it was early. They said it was late. I said it was supposed to arrive at 16:39, and they said it should arrive at 16:23. Hmmm. We got on and another couple came to the door and asked the driver where it was going. Made me think I ought to ask too, so I did. It was the 16:23 to Newcastle. Yikes! That would have been a shock.

John and I had talked about whether we would see Jill and Marjorie again. John said no, but I said they wouldn’t be at Vindolanda, and we’d think we wouldn’t see them, but then they’d be down at Once Brewed and get on there. (There’s also a Twice Brewed. I don’t know the origin of the names, but I love them.)

Anyway, we pulled up at Once Brewed and there was a big crowd, and I didn’t see our friends. Oh well. But then, just as we’re ready to pull out, yes, out of the back came Jill and Marjorie. We all had a big laugh over that. Our Nebraska neighbors were there too, and we had something of a party on the way back.

Note: everybody seems to get called <i>love</i> in this part of the world.

John’s foot felt well enough to return to the Ashcroft House before dinner, so we did, and waited till we could eat at the Manor House Hotel (http://www.information-britain.co.uk...Place_ID=81846). We even had time to tour the gardens and take pictures. The Manor House Hotel is where Jill and Marjorie are staying. We walked into the dining room, and there they were. They had just ordered. So we all sat together and had a wonderful time talking and laughing the evening away. Jill bought a bottle of wine for the four of us, and we had a really pleasant evening.

The Manor House is kind of an old-fashioned funky looking place. It’s probably half the price of the Ashcroft, but it looked very basic on its web site.

I had brought a fleece jacket, warm hat, and gloves for Hadrian’s Wall because I had read it could get very cold, wet, and windy in late September. I got sunburned today! But I could see that in those big open, high places, the weather could get pretty miserable. And I did use all but the gloves elsewhere.

<b>Next – Olney, home of Amazing Grace</b>

oh2doula

I will in in London in 52 DAYS!! loving the report!!!!

sallyky

<b>England – Day 31 – Sat. Sept. 27 – Olney, home of Amazing Grace</b>

We had our usual lovely breakfast. The Nebraska group, two adults and two kids, was already gone. Trying to see all of England in a week, somebody said. But there was an older English couple that heard our accents and asked if we were excited about the election. A surprisingly high number of people have asked what we thought about the election and wanted to talk about it.

I told the man we hadn’t had a chance to check the debate results yet. It had taken place the night before. He said John McCain looked good, primarily because of his experience. I don’t know if that was his opinion or that of the analysts or newspapers.

The woman asked me to explain what “hockey mom” means.

I had an interesting time with Christine, the B&amp;B owner, talking about housing prices. She said that more and more people are living further and further from their jobs, and so places where housing prices used to be low, are now much more expensive. She said that if they lived 15 miles further east, toward Newcastle, their house would cost a quarter more. And if they lived 30 miles closer to Newcastle, it would be half again as much. But she said even Haltwhistle is becoming more expensive as people desire small town life and are willing to commute to Newcastle, Edinburgh or even London to work.

We asked about cabs and Christine offered her husband, Geoff, to take us to the station. They work really hard. Christine works as a hairdresser as well as cooking and working at the B&amp;B. Geoff also works in law enforcement. We chatted with him a while as we waited for our train. They are both really nice, friendly people.

When Geoff left, we talked with a man who had been hiking the Wall. He said most people hike from hostel to hostel, so they carry a light pack. I must say, though, that the packs we saw looked pretty large and well filled compared to those of hikers we know in the States, many of whom practice light and ultra light hiking.

The train was packed. We almost didn’t get a seat. Many of the riders seem to be school groups, maybe going to Newcastle for some event or outing.

Our goal today is Bedford, where some friends we haven’t met yet will pick us up and take us to Olney. Dan and Mary Evans met some good friends of ours in Florida when Dan came to the US to perform on the lap dulcimer and guitar. In fact, he stayed with them for a week or more. So when our friends learned we were going to Britain, they wrote to Dan and arranged for us to meet by e-mail.

I had been e-mailing Dan off and on since January, so I felt like I knew him a little, but it was still a nervous-making situation, meeting new people and having them show us around for several days. Definitely nice, but nervous-making too. Dan said they love to show people the real England. It was made a little easier in that they didn’t have room for us in their home, so we were staying in a B&amp;B in Olney. We wouldn’t be together all the time.

We were going there at this particular time because it was when their schedule could accommodate us. But I can tell you that Bedford, one of the rail stations near Olney, is not an easy place to reach from Haltwhistle. In fact, in Kentucky we’d say, “You can’t get there from here.”

First we had a change at Newcastle, though that wasn’t bad. We had time to buy some sandwiches for lunch and visit the toilets. Since I always like to double check, I asked about a train I thought was the one to Peterborough. The man said if it were the London train, it would go to Peterborough, but since it wasn’t the London train, it wouldn’t. OooooK. When the London train came in, we got on and got the only two unreserved seats left. Who would have thought Saturday would be so busy.

In Peterborough, we managed the seven-minute change, though we had to haul our luggage down stairs and then up another staircase to get to the right tracks. That’s always a bummer. We much prefer stations with lifts or runways. From Peterborough we went to Leicester. And then to Bedford. It took about six hours.

Bedford is a little north of London and if we had taken a different series of stations, they would have taken us back to London before going to Bedford. It actually would have taken less time than the route we took, but we would have had to haul the luggage from King’s Cross to St. Pancras. It didn’t seem worth it, especially with the crowds we’d seen at King’s Cross.

We took an earlier train than planned, so we arrived well ahead of when we’d told Dan and Mary, but they arrived early too, just after we sat down on the parking lot wall, surrounded by all our stuff. I don’t know how we recognized each other, but we did. They are very nice people.

They took us to the B&amp;B to get settled and gave us a couple hours to rest and refresh ourselves before dinner. We ate at their house and had chili and a great salad of tomato slices, avocado slices, feta cheese and a few olives, drizzled with just a bit of olive oil. It was so good, we have had it many times at home. Sometimes I add a little fresh basil.

We had a good time getting to know them. I should have known things would work out, as we share an interest in music, and both Dan and John are photographers. Dan and Mary have two rabbits and we met them too. We had a very enjoyable evening, talking and getting to know each other, and then Dan walked with us back to the B&amp;B. That was nice, a pleasant walk through the night air.

<b>Next – Bell ringing and medieval festivities</b>

scotlib

Hi sallyky,

So fun to continue the reading!

Hey, this is my movie of the day tour from Edinburgh to Hadrian's Wall. Does it look like the same &quot;wee&quot; bit, for sure?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2VMGMtRZsJI

Does John know how steep a climb you did? I glossed over the photos when I came home. Hubby would have yelled a bit if he truly knew the steepness (only from concern).

sallyky

Hi Scotlib -- I was sure it was the same wee steep bit, especially the stile -- till I watched the part coming down. On my way down, I saw a house/farm to my left, where it looks like a parking area in your video. But they look similar enough to be twins if it’s not the same place. Were you near the Park Center at Once Brewed or further east?

John didn’t know about the steep climb till after, but we do a lot of mountain hiking, so I didn’t figure he’d worry. In fact, I have to admit to stressing the steepness. I wanted to impress him!

scotlib

Hi Sallyky,

The tour gave us an option: tour Housesteads or walk along the wall, after the (snort!) wee steep bit. It was good that everyone else did Housesteads, I think; I was the youngest, by far, even if not necessarily in best shape. I heard the walk up to Housesteads was long, but those steps, wow!

Unfortunately I do not remember our tour driver's name, but we drove a couple of miles east, just a few minutes, so it could not have been too many. The driver let me use the park center for a quick visit to the toilet, then drove me across the main road and up a hill to drop me off in a small parking lot. So I walked from the lot, down a hill, to then go UP hill.

Looking for Wall information, I would say we stopped at Once Brewed. This map shows the &quot;wee&quot; steep bit is Peel Crags, http://www.nationaltrail.co.uk/hadri...ousesteads.JPG

That is a rather nice map. It is #8 off this page, http://www.nationaltrail.co.uk/hadri...asp?PageId=196. Have to mark that for a return visit! Someday

soogies

saving for me

sallyky

scotlib -- It is indeed the same wee steep bit. Has to be. How neat to have that shared experience. And now I know the name of the crags too.

Sally

sallyky

<b>England – Day 32 – Sun. Sept. 28 – Bell ringing &amp; medieval festivities</b>

This morning we went bell ringing with Mary. This is not the small bells on the table, but the large bells in church steeples. Mary rings with a group at St. Peter’s church in Sharnbrook. St. Peter’s is a 13th century Anglican church, remodeled from an earlier Norman one. The first rector was named in 1155, and St. Peter’s is the oldest surviving church in the village.

And it has a heck of a spiral staircase. We’ve have seen enough spiral staircases to feel like experts on them by now, and this is the clear winner in the toughest spiral staircase competition. It was the steepest and the narrowest. And it was a little dark too. But it got us up into the bell tower. We weren’t in the area with the bells, but with the bell ropes. We had to sit to the side, with the ringers in a circle in front of us, and make sure we didn’t let our feet or legs get entangled in the ropes as they were pulled.

This church has eight bells, running an octave, and on this Sunday there were eight ringers, though there isn’t always a full complement. The first thing they have to do is get the bells loaded. That is, they get the bells to swing and swing until finally they are balanced up side down in a bell frame, and held there, at the top of the swing, poised to ring. Then the ringers ring the changes.

This is much different from ringing a carillon, because there is no recognizable melody. Once the bells are loaded, the ringers start by running through the octave a few times; then the leader calls out the changes, like 2 to 4. So the bells ring out 1 4 3 2 5 6 7 8. Then the leader might call 5 for 8, so the bells are 1 4 3 2 8 6 7 5. OK. That’s as far as I can go. During the break between loading the bells and starting the changes, the leader explained the ringing to us.

He said that it didn’t require strength, even though the bells are very heavy, nor does it require musical ability, but it requires a sense of timing and learning the techniques of slowing or speeding up in order to switch the bell from one position to another. The ringers have to learn just how much force must be used to get the right sound. He said generally it takes from six months to a year just to get well started, and more time than that to be really comfortable with the bell and to start becoming adept.

We saw a book of changes, which is their sheet music, and a colored line following a particular bell through the changes looks like the double helix running down a page. Some of the changes are very complicated. Following this 500-year-old tradition, the bells call people to church. The ringers ring the changes until five minutes before the service. Then they all stop, but one, and that one rings alone to announce that there are only five minutes left.

There’s no real connection between the ringers and the church or service. The parishioners don’t see the ringers at all, though I guess the ringers could go down and join the service after the ringing is done. When they descend, they leave the bells loaded so they’ll be ready for the evening service.

When the bells are loaded, the ropes are hanked and tied, hanging about three or four feet off the ground. When the bells are not loaded, the ropes simply hang loose. This is so someone coming in will know where the bells are and not get into trouble

After the bell ringing, Mary dropped us off in back in Olney, with plans to pick us up again at 1:00. She also took us on a quick tour of the town, pointing out places to get lunch and points of interest, such as the church where John Newton, who wrote <i>Amazing Grace</i>, held the curacy. Newton was a follower of George Whitfield and admired John Wesley.

When William Cowper, the poet, came to live in Olney, he and Newton not only became friends, but began to hold services and prayer meetings together. Their goal for a series of weekly prayer meetings was to write a new hymn for each. <i>Amazing Grace</i> quite possibly was one of those.

Out of a number of good looking places for lunch, we chose the Tea Spot. There were shelves all around the room holding many old cameras, which John enjoyed seeing. And the food was good too. The only questionable thing was a milkshake. I gave in to an urge for a shake, but found it didn’t have any ice cream; it was just milk, thickened a little by being whipped to a froth.

After lunch, Dan and Mary took us to a medieval living history event taking place about an hour away. I can’t remember the place, though I remember going through Fotheringay.

The event was great fun. First we talked with an archer. He told us all about the life of an archer, the use of the bow, the many different kinds of arrows, the distance they could shoot, the means of defense, making the bows and arrows, and more. He was an extremely interesting person, and really knew his stuff. He does re-enacting in the medieval period. To us, he even had the look of a medieval archer, a look he no doubt cultivates.

We also had the fun of talking with an alchemist. He was working very hard on making gold from base metals, though he hadn’t succeeded in that yet. However, he could and did make dragon’s blood, and he also created explosions. And he showed his scorn for women. He took a beaker and poured some liquid into a small cup. The liquid turned wine colored.

Then he turned to Mary. “Now, madam,” he said. “I will show you why women cannot be alchemists.” He had Mary pour the same liquid into a second small cup. It tuned an putrid orange color. Then he took back the beaker and poured some liquid into a third small cup. Once again it became wine. He said women just couldn’t do chemistry right.

There were also women who were cooking in medieval style and with foods that would have been eaten in medieval times. One was grinding flour and another making bread. Over an open fire, they were cooking a stew out of leeks, onions, and carrots.

On the grounds there was an old manor house we were able to tour. There were audio guides that gave its extensive history. Even the grounds were done in a medieval manor, with sheep, pigs, and chickens, as well as vegetables growing inside a wattle fence.

There was a man playing bagpipes and a place where visitors could shoot arrows at balloons. Dan hit one and broke it. He was quite set up with himself over it.

It was a lovely day, made even better by knowing that this medieval living history was taking place in a medieval setting, with its actual medieval manor house. It wasn’t a large event, but we really enjoyed it very much and learned a great deal. And we got there and back by driving through very lovely English countryside. I noticed a public bridle path along the way and thought again how wonderful that is.

Dan and Mary dropped us off back at our B&amp;B in Olney about 6:00 and picked us up again at 8:00 to go out for dinner. We decided on an Indian restaurant that is one of their favorites. It was excellent, much better than any Indian place we have tried in the US. There were so many choices, we followed their lead on most items, opting only for a meat main dish rather than vegetarian. We thoroughly enjoyed it.

The manager knows Mary because she is a home health care nurse and his wife just had twins. Mary has been visiting his wife and giving her advice, especially about diet. Mary said the manager sometimes take the advice she gives his wife and then asks Mary why she is eating this or that. The night we were there, he wanted to know if we really wanted butter, since Mary had told his wife not to eat too much fat. Funny.

They dropped us back at the B&amp;B then and we collapsed. I’m not sure if this was the first place this happened, but after a bit on the road, we discovered that in all the B&amp;Bs, no matter what we did, the heaters worked only part of the time, and often we were pretty chilly at night, or at least I was.

Virginia, the owner, had told us we could use the auxiliary room heater if we were cold, but it worked only once. We would try turning all the knobs, but nothing changed. Quite late in the trip, we asked someone about this and were told that in B&amp;Bs the heaters are often set to work only between certain hours or certain temperatures in order to conserve energy.

<b>Next – Newmarket &amp; Cambridge</b>

MissPrism

Have you read &quot;The nine tailors&quot; by Dorothy L. Sayers?

sallyky

<i>Have you read &quot;The nine tailors&quot; by Dorothy L. Sayers?</i>

MissPrism -- Yes, I have. I meant to mention that because I'm sure that's one of the reasons I was so entranced with the bell ringing, though John hasn't read it and he was entranced too. I read <i>The Nine Tailors</i> again right before we came to England because I knew Mary is a bell ringer and would take us if she were doing a ringing at the time.

sallyky

<b>England – Day 33 – Mon. Sept. 29 – Newmarket &amp; Cambridge</b>

I need to say a word about Olney and our B&amp;B there. I don’t think Olney (http://www.olney.org.uk/frmain.htm) is a tourism center, but the town is very nice, the Newton church is there, and the world-famous, Shrove Tuesday pancake race has taken place there since 1445. Mary took part in last year’s race. There are antique stores and shops, as well as nice pubs and restaurants. It also could be a base for the surrounding area.

Our B&amp;B, The Lindens Guest House (http://www.thelindens.com/) is very nice. For &pound;60 per night, we had the Garden Suite, with two double beds, a nice-sized toilet and shower, and an attached gazebo. We were on the go a lot, so we didn’t have much time for lounging in the gazebo, but it was lovely, especially on warm afternoons. There were several chairs and small tables, and it even had a little refrigerator with real milk, not dairy-like product, for our tea.

We also had access to the living area in the main house for reading, relaxing, or wifi. Like the Ashcroft, the Lindens’ thick walls meant the wifi signal had some trouble reaching everywhere, so trips to the living room were necessary.

Virginia, the hostess, was a hoot. We thoroughly enjoyed her. Not only was she pleasant and welcoming, but her stories were funny. One morning she told us of a Bavarian visitor, who bragged on and on about Bavaria. She said she finally couldn’t stand it any more, and said, “And you had Hitler too.”

Well, she said, that set him off, and before she knew it they were in an argument, which ended with her saying, “Well, you started it.” Then she thought, “Oh my gosh. I’m in Fawlty Towers!”

She also told us about the American who claimed he was traveling the world and was so famous he never paid for anything. She told she had never heard of him and if he planned on staying with her, he could plan on paying. He left and went elsewhere.

Then she told us of an elderly Austrian who drove his 1937 Aston Martin from Austria to Olney (taking the ferry across the channel, of course) because he was taking the car to the Aston Martin factory about five miles from Olney. He stayed at The Lindens for weeks before everything was finally fixed, but then he had to stay even longer.

Every time he brought the finished car back to the B&amp;B and drove it through the gate into the parking area, he misjudged the space and knocked off a part -- a mirror, a bit of paint off the bumper, or whatever, and had to return the car to the factory. She said it was several more weeks before he could finally leave with everything intact.

The 29th is my birthday and we had a lovely day lined up. Even before we started off, John gave me a bracelet he’d bought at the Tower of London.

Dan and Mary thought we’d enjoy Cambridge and we were going there for the greater part of the day. I’d asked if we could take a drive round Newmarket on our way, as it is the horse and racing center of England, and only about 13 miles from Cambridge. It features in many of the Dick Francis mystery novels related to horse racing. I told them we needn’t do a long stay, but I just wanted to see it. I figured I’d be polite enough not to ask to be there in time for the gallops at dawn. ;-)

We did visit the National Museum of Horse Racing, where I got Newmarket tee shirt and a tea towel with a picture of a mare and foal running. It took a little doing to get the towel, as it was the last one.

For some reason, folks don’t like to give up the last of an item, even if keeping it simply makes potential customers frustrated. The towel was tacked up on a wall to advertise other towels, except there were no others. I finally talked the clerk out of it, though, and it now hangs on a wall where I can see it daily.

Dan offered to take us to the National Stud, but these were horses I didn’t know, and I had seen famous racehorses in Kentucky, as well as the Kentucky Horse Park, and was more interested in seeing Cambridge.

A side note: our Florida friends got Dan and Mary hooked on watching Judge Judy on TV when they were in the US. They thought it was funny, and I thought it was funny they got addicted to it.

After Newmarket, we went on to Cambridge and walked from a large parking structure at a mall into the center of town. It was a pleasant walk, much of it through a small park, and walking through town was a pleasure. Dan wanted to make a stop at his bank and told us we had to come in and take a look. It’s in an old and architecturally interesting building. I never would have guessed it was a bank.

Our first stop was Clare College, where we went into the chapel. Just as we entered, organ music began. We just looked at each other in surprise, and, without speaking, we all sat down in the pews to listen. We assumed somebody was practicing, but, still, it seemed as though the music was just for our pleasure and appreciation.

Next we crossed a bridge over the River Cam to the Clare College gardens, which were very pretty, with many plants, flowers, and a pond.

It would seem that the town of Cambridge was named after the river, but I just learned that’s not so. In Saxon times, for example, the town was called Grantebrycge. By Norman times, the name of the town had mutated to Grentabrige or Cantebrigge (Grantbridge), while the river that flowed through it was called the Granta.

Eventually the name of the town mutated to Cambridge, but it was only later that the river’s name changed to the Cam in order to be analogous. So says Wikipedia, which also says the river is still called the Granta further upstream.

Many people were on the river because it was such a pretty day, and we stood on the bridge and walked along the path to watch the activity. There were other walkers and some people sitting on the bank. Many punts were going up and down the river, and I was excited to see them. Since first reading about them, I had thought riding in a punt would be a neat experience. If I were younger, I would think poling one myself would be fun.

I’m not sure where I first read about punts, but it may have been the Dorothy Sayers mystery novel <i>Gaudy Night</i>, in which an excursion in a punt plays an important role.

Punts are flat-bottomed boats, don’t have a keel, and are wide enough for several to sit. You use a long pole to move it along. Punts originated in Edwardian times and are very popular on the rivers at both Cambridge and Oxford. Some of the punters we saw were much better at it than others.

In one punt we saw two young women, college age probably, who were having a hard time. Their punt skittered here and there on the river, and the one with the pole seemed to be having a hard time controlling it. We began to get suspicious about just how bad she was as we noticed the punt was coming closer and closer to a nice looking young man studying on the bank.

Just as the punt got close to his spot, the one with the pole gave a hard push and the punt rammed the bank, throwing the other young woman on her rear. Both young women complained loudly of their lack of punting ability and asked the young man if he had any advice. He gathered his books, got in the punt, and started poling them down the river. Well done, I thought.

Dan told us he was sure we could take a punt tour and was pretty sure where the punts were. He also advised that we not try punting on our own, as punters tend to get wet, if only from water running down the pole onto the punter’s arm. We had already noticed that many of the punters’ fronts were quite damp.

Since Dan and Mary had been to Cambridge numerous times, we decided we would eat lunch together and then separate. We would take the punt tour and tour King’s College, they would do their thing, and we would meet again later.

The punt tour of “The Backs,” i.e., the backs of the various colleges, was really fun. First, we saw a lot of sights of the town on our way to the punt docks. Then, we rode about 45 minutes on the river behind the colleges under many of the famous bridges. Our punter told us all about the colleges and bridges and the histories of both. Dan and Mary had come around to one of the bridges and were there to wave to us as we went under. Altogether we passed eight colleges and nine bridges.

I had never thought of being able to ride in a punt, and I loved it, as much for the concept as the thing itself. Punting is one of the things always seen in connection with Cambridge and Oxford, and, thus, is such a quintessential university thing to do.

After the punt tour we came back to the university area and toured King’s College. I think the only building we could enter at the time was the chapel, but we were able to walk around outside and admire the architecture. We hadn’t known that the King of King’s College was Henry VI, who founded the college in 1441. Others saw to progress over the years, but Henry VIII saw to the finishing of the chapel more than 100 years later in 1544.

And the chapel was quite different from what we expected. We’re used to thinking of chapels as small buildings or small rooms off the main part of a church, but Henry’s chapel is very large indeed. It’s not a Westminster Abbey, but it certainly seemed as large at St. Margaret’s next door to Westminster. It’s also beautiful, inside and out.

King’s Chapel is a prime example of late Gothic architecture, it has magnificent stained-glass windows, and the impressive fan vault makes the ceiling an amazing joy to behold. Along one side of the chapel, there’s a series of rooms that are used for exhibits about the chapel, giving details of the chapel’s founding, the nature of buttresses and fan vaults, the educational history and impact of the college, the people involved in making the chapel what it is, and interesting tidbits about the structure and its cultural life.

Overheard in Cambridge: “But . . . well . . . who <u>is</u> the saint buried at Bury St. Edmunds?” Sound a little like who’s buried in Grant’s tomb?

We joined back with Dan and Mary about 5:00 and rode back to Olney. On the way, we saw a dead badger by the side of the road. We took a bit of time to freshen up and then Dan picked us up for dinner. Mary had offered to do our laundry and had even hung it out on the line to dry. I just had to give her a big hug. That was such a wonderful thing for her to do.

Mary also had a big surprise when we arrived at their house. She met us with champagne for my birthday. That was really nice, and unexpected. After all, we’d only just met Dan and Mary and certainly never anticipated something like that. Then, after dinner she had a birthday a cake and candles, and they sang Happy Birthday. It was a wonderful birthday.

<b>Next – York</b>

sallyky

<b>England – Day 34 – Tues. Sept. 30 – York</b>

This morning we had quite a conversation with an Austrian at breakfast. I don’t know if he’s the same man as Virginia told us about or not.

After breakfast Dan very kindly drove us to Peterborough so that we would have a straight shot to York instead of having to make several train changes. That was much appreciated, and we had a great conversation on the way about grammar, language and music. We hope we will see Dan and Mary again somehow.

Not only were they really wonderful to take so much time with us and show us around, but they were really enjoyable and fun people.

We got to York about 13:45 and took a cab to our B&amp;B, the Alcuin Lodge. The cabbie told us he knew where we were from because he recognized our accents. It was either Texas or Michigan. We had to laugh. Those accents are so different, they couldn’t possibly be part of the same choice.

At the lodge, there was a note saying the host was out and that we should go ahead and move into our room. I had called from Olney and asked for a double en suite room. We had a double, but not en suite. The toilet was out a landing, down some steps, across another landing, and then up some steps. It was private, but still it was a walk in the middle of the night.

We had wanted to rest, but decided it would be better not to move in until the room situation was straightened out. Since nobody was there, we had no idea how to get to the town center, but we set off anyway. After going a couple blocks and getting into a major argument about which way we should go, we were ready to turn back. Then we saw some people across the block, and I said I’d ask directions.

They said they didn’t know much either, as they were from Scotland, but they did know how to get to town. Then one, with a fairly thick Scots accent, asked where we lived in the States. After we chatted about Kentucky for a wee bit, he said he was from Michigan. I said I could tell from his accent, and we got a good laugh out of that. He lives in Michigan, but only his wife actually is from Michigan.

They did know how to get to town, so we followed them. They led us up some steps onto a narrow path between a house and a fence hedging off some weeds. I’d noticed it previously from a distance and thought it was just an entrance to the backyard. We probably would not have gone that way from what we could see.

It was a very short distance on the path till we came out on a path along the River Ouse. After making sure we could find the place to turn onto the path on our way back, we were off to town.

The walk along the river was very nice in the afternoon light. To the west we could see the York Eye. I don’t know if that’s what it’s called, but it’s a smaller version of the London Eye. Across the river we saw a boathouse, the city rowing club, and a group of people in rowing sculls. There were a couple houseboats along our side of the river. There are boat tours of the river too, but they didn’t appear to be operating at this time of year. For part of the way we had the gardens of the Yorkshire Museum on our other side. Then we reached the wall and bridge, and climbed the steps to street level.

We could see the York Minster so we walked up that way. We found out the hours and tour options and decided it was too late for a visit. And we were tired. But we were already falling in love with York. We loved the wall, the governmental and religious buildings, the winding streets, the houses, the river, and all we could see.

As we were walking back toward the Alcuin, I spotted Bailey’s Tea Shop, and we went in for a cuppa. Once there, though, we decided just to eat dinner and then go back to our room and rest. John had haddock for &pound;6.29, and I had meat lasagna for &pound;6.40. They were OK. Then we shared a piece of black current cheesecake for &pound;2.40.

We walked back to the lodge then and talked to the young man in charge about changing rooms. He had the room he had given us and an en suite twin, which we decided to take instead. This room was fairly small, though we had a fairly large toilet-bath area, and a small desk, which worked well for using the computer. The radiator always worked there, and I was plenty warm.

The Alcuin Lodge (http://www.alcuinlodge.com/) was &pound;60 per room per night.

<b>Next – Exploring York</b>

janisj

Darn - since that long url was posted, my frame is totally messed up and I can't easily read the latest installments of your wonderful report.

Still following along, but will wait til you finish up and then I'll copy/paste from Olney onwards into a word document and read it all together.

(Scotlib: take a look at tinyurl.com -- it really helps when you want to link an extra long url)

scotlib

Hi sallyky,

Great reading continues! Thanks for the links to your lodgings. I am marking them for hopeful trips in future.

I love Dick Francis books, too. It would be fun to see some of the sights from his books. Another someday item.

Sorry about that long link quot;&gt; I did not realize it would print so long and mess up the frame.

Areala

What a great informative and narrative trip report.

I am keeping this one for reference. We just decided to go the end of May and June for 3 weeks so I am just starting to research and this one is a good one to start with.

Glad you had such a wonderful trip. When someone says they wish they can go back, you know they had a great time.

Good Job !!

sallyky

Thanks janisj, scotlib, and Areala for your comments and encouragement. Sometimes I think this TR thing is too time consuming, but then such nice comments inspire me to continue. Areala, our trip <u>was</u> wonderful. We’d love to return.

Sally

sallyky

<b>England – Day 35 – Wed. Oct. 1 – Exploring York</b>

We’re not sure the relationships of the people involved, but we’ve learned we have the “B” team in charge at the Alcuin. The young man of yesterday told us the owners are on vacation and he is helping out. There’s also a woman, but we don’t know how, or even if, she is related to any of the others.

It doesn’t seem to matter, though. We are well taken care of and the breakfast is quite good. As we were leaving the woman told us of another way to reach town by going through the museum gardens. We decided we liked walking along the river, though, and went that way again. This B&amp;B is well located and just a short walk to town.

One of our first stops was at a music store, where I found a book called <i>101 No. 1 Hits for Buskers</i>. That was a serious title, but it seemed funny.

Our next stop was the Guildhall. We probably would not have stopped, but it was on our Heritage Pass. Aside from the money saved, the pass was very good for us because it lured us into visiting some places we wouldn’t have otherwise, and they were usually very nice.

When we walked in, it didn’t look like a place to be toured. There were no ticket takers or money gatherers. Nobody ever asked for our passes. Makes me wonder if we were where I thought we were. However, we got a great personal tour from – well, I don’t know who he was. He seemed to be the person in charge – head of city council? mayor? I’m not sure who would have offices in that building.

Some of the Guildhall was bombed in WWII and rebuilt, but other parts are 500 years old. Whoever our guide was, he is part of the council and carries a 500-year-old sword (still sharp, he said) in the ceremonial parade. He showed us the council chambers, including the secret passage that would allow a person to escape down to the river from inside.

From there we walked toward the Castle Museum, but made a stop at Fairfax House (http://www.fairfaxhouse.co.uk/) along the way. This is another place we wouldn’t have visited without the Heritage Pass, but which turned out to be one of our favorite places overall. Without the pass it costs &pound;6, or &pound;5 for concessions (seniors). It is a Georgian house (a Colonial, for those of us in the colonies), and just a lovely bit of architecture.

The docents scattered throughout the house were what I would term little old ladies, perfect for presenting the era, dressed in skirts and flats. I could see them in the country with their tweeds and dogs, or pouring tea on a summer afternoon. But, like Miss Marple, they were sharp as tacks under the fluff. They were extremely knowledgeable and their comments were a delight of seeing the house.

The house has connections to the Fairfax family in Fairfax County, Virginia. Two of the docents had been to the US to see the Virginia Fairfax property and to visit Colonial Williamsburg. One was quite animate in describing her visit, especially the Colonial meal in Williamsburg.

The York house was originally a dowry for Anne Fairfax, daughter of Viscount Fairfax. When it was no longer a private residence, it went through several incarnations, including being used as a theater and shop. The York Civic Trust purchased the house in 1980. At about the same time, the trustees for the estate of Noel Terry, the York candy magnate, were looking for a place to house his Georgian furniture collection. The two came together and we all are the beneficiaries.

The house itself is beautiful, with its fantastic ceilings, the pleasant arrangement of rooms, and the inspiring grand staircase. But Terry’s furniture and clock collections make it twice worth the visit. Added to that are the small touches that made this house so real to us. For example, the table is set with the foods that would have been served at that time. You would think the family would be called to dine at any moment.

In the library’s stuccowork, are large medallions of the writers Pope, Locke, Addison, and Milton. The library also holds one of the clocks from Terry’s collection and, in the hall, are four very old barometers, including one dating from 1690.

The dining room, strangely enough it seemed to me, contained a spinet and had musical scores in the ceiling plaster. The music could be read well enough to be played.

The dining room table is set up for a dinner party, and is just as it would have been in the time of Lord Fairfax and his daughter, around 1762. The Trust used the housekeeping records to learn what serving pieces would have been used, and also what foods might be included in a dinner of the time. I’ve read about the many courses of a Georgian meal, and it made the books come alive to see the plates, silverware, wine glasses, serving dishes and replicas of the foods. On a table in the corner were three-tiered trays of small pastries.

The guide in this room told us of letter and records showing that the servants were generally healthier than the family, with good bones, clear skin and shining faces. She said a clue to this might be that the servants were given vegetables to eat, instead of the rich, fatty foods the family ate.

The kitchen was even better yet, as it displayed some of the more (to me) improbable items on a Georgian menu, such as fawn. But there they were, all the foods that might show up in such a dinner. There was the fawn, a fish baked in pastry, and a pheasant pie, which had the head sticking up from the pastry. The sensibilities over foods between then and now are quite different. Then, the idea seemed to be to emphasize the original animal nature of the meats in the presentation.

The attention to detail was so great that we could see the glow from fires in the oven.


The bedrooms on the first floor (second floor in the US) had beautiful furniture and appointments, but our favorite room up there was the saloon, which was set up for a tea party. (If you go to the Fairfax House site and click on <i>Explore</i>, you can see parts of this room, and the others.) It is a dramatic room, hung in red damask. The tea table is elegant mahogany, the tea set is Chinese, and the tea caddy had locks. Today, tea and pepper are so common, it’s hard to think that at one time they were so expensive.

After lunch we walked past Clifford’s Tower, but decided, even with the pass, we didn’t have the energy or inclination to climb the stairs and go in. The Tower is where hundreds of Jews died in 1190. When a fire broke out in York, a debtor to a Jewish banker took the opportunity to incite a mob to kill the banker, so that the debtor would not have to pay his debt.

Soon the rest of the Jewish community was in danger and they took refuge in Clifford’s Tower. The warden of the tower left and the Jews were afraid to let him back in because the mobs might get in too. So the warden brought the militia against the Jews. When the tower caught fire, several Jews died in the flames. Others killed themselves and some killed each other rather than renounce their faith. Some surrendered, but, even though they had been offered clemency, they were killed.

Anyway, we decided that knowing the story was enough, so we moved on to the Castle Museum, a marvelous place founded by Dr. John L. Kirk. Kirk, a country doctor, realized the objects and cultural items of the Victorian age would soon pass and that someone needed to collect them. He decided he was that person and rode around the countryside gathering objects.

The museum is a study of everyday life and includes rooms of the Victorian era from farmhouses and city houses. It has exhibits on changes in furniture, water supply and use, and in washing, dusting, and cooking, as machines were developed to do these things or make them easier. There were exhibits on weddings and funerals, as well as life in between.

In one area there is a whole street and side streets of Victorian York. There’s a horse and carriage in the streets. Shop clerks were working in some of the shops. I saw a sweet shop with a sugar loaf and the tongs used to cut off small pieces to sell. Sugar was another item kept locked up due to its high cost.

We also saw the town jail and newspaper. At one point there was an artificial storm, with thunder and lightening. Much better than what some grocery stores do. And the lighting changed from day to night several times while we were there.

This was about as enjoyable a place as we’ve ever been in. There were lots of interesting things. And there were funny things too, such as the action machines. One was a fire engine crew saving a woman, one was a priest giving last rites to a man who was being executed, and one was Al Jolson.

To get things going, you put 20 p in the slot and the little figures start running around. Since we assumed these were for children, the last rites seemed a particularly gruesome entertainment. But then, considering the Al Jolson, maybe they were for adults. They were funny to us at any rate.

Other parts of the museum covered military history and the 1960s. The parts other than the Victorian parts seem an unusual combination of interests.

After we left the museum, we walked back to town to visit the Jorvik Viking Center (&pound;7). First there is a cart ride through a Viking village, where you see, smell, and hear life as a Viking. This was OK, but rather hokey. I’d say this isn’t worth the time or money unless you have children along. They probably would enjoy it.

We did really enjoy the serious exhibits at the end of the ride, though. There were archeological finds and information about DNA in Great Britain and the Nordic influence.

We walked home then, stopping at Judges Lodging for dinner. The meal was OK, but the award-winning ale was terrible. I think the meals were &pound;8.5. John had vegetable moussaka. You know it wasn’t great if I don’t remember what I had.

<b>Next – York Minster &amp; Betty’s Tea Shop</b>

sallyky

<b>England – Day 36 – Thurs. Oct. 2 –York Minster &amp; Betty’s Tea Shop</b>

Our “B” team guy was waiting for us in the dining room this morning and said he was cooking breakfast for the first time ever and hoped he would do well. Oh oh. But he did fine, and it was just as good as the woman’s breakfast, so he apparently has been cooking eggs for himself to get such practice.

Yesterday, John had started to lead us home through the Museum Gardens before realizing we weren’t where he thought we were. Since we didn’t know how to find the garden exit, we kept aiming toward the river until we were able to find a river walk exit. John, reading this, says he begs to differ. He claims he always knew exactly where he was going and got there. I remember a dead-end and remain skeptical, but there ya go.

This morning we walked to town through the museum gardens instead of along the river. This was a very pleasant walk, too, and we came across some ruins, which we hadn’t expected. These are the ruins of St. Mary's Abbey, built in 1088, and once the site of one of the wealthiest and most powerful Benedictine monasteries in England.

After Henry VIII banned all monasteries in England, the monks at St. Mary's were pensioned off and the abbey buildings converted into a palace for the King when he visited York. Gradually they fell into ruins and were used as agricultural buildings before being excavated by the Yorkshire Philosophical Society in the 1820s.

Having a beautiful blue sky and bright sun, we took a number of pictures of them.

Our first stop was the York Minster (http://www.yorkminster.org/) and the free, guided tour. It was absolutely fantastic. Our guide, David Harrison, had a wealth of information and stories to tell.

The windows constitute the greatest amount of stained glass in the world. These include the Jesse window showing Christ’s lineage from Jesse onward and the famous Rose Window. Some of the stained glass goes back to the 12th century. David showed us some of the different types of glazing in the windows as they were done over time. And he told us about taking the glass out to protect it during the world wars.

I can’t even conceive of what a job that was, to take out the glass, protect it and store it, and then put it all back when the wars were over. It was an immense undertaking.

Another intriguing part of the Minster is the choir screen with its sculptures of the kings from William the Conqueror to Henry VI. Our guide pointed out that the king’s features are highly stylized and not personal. There are repeats of the kings in the sculptures.

Our guide also talked about the ceiling bosses. Bosses are some kind of protrusion usually found at the intersection of a vault. In Gothic architecture, these are often carved in intricate designs. In the Minster, they have a religious context.

One of them portrays Mary feeding the baby Jesus. The original had her breast-feeding, something that was discovered when repairs were being done after a fire. Naturally, the Victorians thought that was scandalous, so they redid the boss (not an easy or cheap thing) to show Mary feeding Jesus with a bottle.

And, mind you, this was long, long before bottles were used for nursing babies, about ½ AD, I’d say. But the Victorians would not be stopped by a little historical fact like that in their obsession for decorum.

We noted a group of people-like figures, appearing to use semaphores. Since this didn’t make much sense, we asked about it. They are semaphore people, but put there in modern times, of course. There had been a conference, of youth, I think, and the semaphore people were created for it. They spelled out <i>Christ is here</i>, and the dean decided they should stay.

The guide also told us a number of gossipy stories of fights between a previous dean and archbishop. Cathedral comes from the Latin term <i>cathedra</i>, meaning chair. A cathedral is the seat of a bishop or archbishop and literally holds his chair. So, said our guide, the Archbishop could have taken his chair and gone to another church at any time if he so desired, but he was willing to stay and try to work things out with the belligerent dean.

I can just see him picking up his chair and walking out with it.

After the tour, we decided we weren’t really up to climbing the tower, but the tour of the undercroft seemed easy enough. I think it was described as a look at the history of the churches that had stood on that ground. We thought it would be a typical museum-like tour of informational displays, but it was much more.

Backing up for a moment – the first Christian presence here was in the 300s. The first church was built in 627 to baptize Edwin, the king of Northumbria. The first of several fires was in 741 and a more imposing church was rebuilt after that. The first Norman bishop arrived and brought about repairs and additions in 1070. The new Archbishop in 1215 wanted a Gothic structure to rival Canterbury, so other changes came about.

Construction took place then over hundreds of years. The Cathedral suffered under both the Reformation and the Civil War and had to be repaired. There was an arson attack in 1829 and several accidental fires later. In the 1970s, they found that the building was very weak and the center tower likely to fall, so repairs got underway. It was then that the Roman principia, the Roman religious center, was found under the South Transept.

And that brings us back to the tour. Once the Roman part of the Cathedral was exposed, the area was made a living museum showing the levels of construction that had gone on there. We walked among the rocks and foundations of the various church structures: Roman, Saxon, Norman, medieval. It was fantastic to see the pillars, the drainage system, and the very foundations of the earlier buildings. Later in the tour, there were also areas of artifacts and displays about the impact of the Reformation on the church.

I think we were down there several hours walking through history. It was fascinating and so much more than we had expected.

From there we walked behind the Minster to the wall where the Hop On Hop Off buses start their routes. We climbed the stairs to the wall, went through a guard tower, and walked along the wall for a bit. We got some great views of rooftops and the Cathedral.

We came back to where we’d started, descended from the wall, and walked along a narrow alleyway to find lunch. There were numerous teashops and pubs, and the area, with many buildings in stone, felt very old.

Lunch must not have been memorable, since I have no notes, but I remember a nice little place, crowded with small tables, and the toilets up a steep set of stairs.

After lunch we decided to ride the HoHo bus. Most times we’d probably want to ride at the beginning of a stay, but it was beautiful weather and we’d seen what was high on our priority list. If we saw something likely as we rode, we could always stop. I wanted to see the Shambles, which is a medieval street, and go to Betty’s for tea. Our plan was to go all the way around the first time and then get off on the second go-round.

On our journey we saw a church with a very small door on the side. The driver said it was a devil door. The door is left open so if there is an exorcism, the devil can escape out his own door. Or if a baby is being baptized, the fleeing devil can run out his open door, which is quickly closed behind him.

We also saw an original Salvation Army building visited by William Booth himself. In the York Minster there was a plaque to the Salvation Army’s first band leader, who was involved with the music at the York Minster.

The second time around, we got off at The Shambles. But before walking up it, John ran into an Army-Navy store to get a warm hat, while I poked around in a Marks and Spencer store. The Shambles has been called a top York attraction so I was expecting something really special. It is special in a way, as it is a well-preserved medieval street, which has been in existence more than 900 years. It’s mentioned in the Doomsday Book.

Today’s Shambles is still very narrow and winding and filled with shops. One guide said it was the premier shopping area in York, but I must say that John and I were disappointed. The buildings were interesting, but no more so than many others we’ve seen in York, and the shops seemed pretty ordinary, no better than others we’d seen. Or maybe we were tired.

Whatever it was, we walked up the street and started looking for Betty’s, York’s famous teashop. I had thought it was in The Shambles, but our HoHo bus driver pointed it out elsewhere. I thought we were headed in the right direction, but wasn’t sure, so I stopped in a pharmacy to ask directions. I needed to buy something too and stood in a line where there were two clerks, one female and one male.

I hoped I would get the female clerk, as I was sure she would be the one to know the way, but I got the male, and once again my prejudices were knocked down. He knew exactly how to get to Betty’s and said he loved going there and was sure we would too.

It was wonderful going there at this time of year, as the line was not out the door and down the walk. We got in pretty fast. We enjoyed Betty’s. The atmosphere is very nice and the food is good. We debated over whether to get a large tea or a meal, and finally opted for the tea, though it would be our dinner. It was very good.

Here’s some weird trivia for you. Betty’s was the first place in all our travels thus far where the toilets had a center faucet that would give us mixed-temperature water.

Another bit of trivia. Toilet stalls in Great Britain are much more likely to lock than ones in the States. Seems like with ours, very often the door is too wide or not wide enough or the lock has pulled out or something. I can’t remember an instance of those things in Great Britain. The doors always locked easily.

We strolled among many streets on the way home, stopping at a central park-like area to listen to an autoharp player. He played it on his lap, as it used to be done, and played very slowly and with lots of notes rather than just chords. We talked about how current autoharps are impossible to play the way he was doing. His was very old and held together in spots with duct tape. The playing was very nice, and we probably made his day by buying a CD from him.

He told us he started playing autoharp because a friend had gone to see Johnny Cash, who “brought out his mother-in-law.” Had we ever heard of Maybelle Carter, he asked. He seemed a little surprised that we had, so obviously he does not know about the Carter Family or their impact on the beginnings of country music. We enjoyed talking to him, as well as listening to his music.

<b>Next – Shrewsbury &amp; Brother Cadfael</b>