sallyky

<b>England – Day 37 – Fri. Oct. 3 –Shrewsbury &amp; Brother Cadfael</b>

After Wednesday’s busy day, when we hadn’t even seen the Minster yet, we decided to re-do our plans. We had planned only two nights in York, and that obviously was not enough. We couldn’t leave without seeing the Minster.

Also, we felt a series of two-night stops from here on out would be too exhausting for us. And our planned visit to Cornwall would consist of a train ride down there and almost immediately turning around and coming back.

The stop after York was to be Shrewsbury, primarily because it was the place from which we could take the Heart of Wales railroad through a scenic part of Wales. Once I’d looked at Shrewsbury, though, it seemed like a nice place in its own right. And trying to fit both the train and Cardiff in seemed difficult. Then I thought of Mary talking about the ABC of traveling. She said, “Excuse my language, but after a while you find yourself saying it’s just Another Bloody Castle.”

So we decided to stay longer in fewer places, but including Shrewsbury because we didn’t have many sightseeing obligations there. That probably sounds like a dumb reason for going somewhere, but we thought with just two days, we could see the abbey and rest somewhat before heading out for more excitement.

We hopped the train for Shrewsbury, which first stopped in Manchester. I think this was the very nice station where it was easy to transfer because all tracks were on the same level. I don’t remember whether it was this train or not, but on one we had two women across from us who were really enjoying their ride.

They looked like they were dressed for a weekend out or maybe a shopping trip or just a day visit somewhere. Once the train started, they started pulling things out of their shopping bags. They had sandwiches, salads, a bottle of wine and even wine glasses. They just really seemed to be having a good time, and we thought about how nice it is to be able to ride the train and relax like that and really enjoy the trip.

As we got near Shrewsbury, we could see there were many beautiful gardens. Later, we picked up travel brochures and many of them included information on gardens to visit or flower shows. We hadn’t known Shrewsbury was such a center of gardening. Too bad cousin Jerry can’t visit when the flowers are blooming.

This day followed our usual train routine. We’d take a cab to the station and arrive about 20-30 minutes early to check the schedule and get sandwiches and fruit for lunch. When we reached our destination, we took a cab to the B&amp;B. We stayed at the Anton Guest House, which was very nice, especially for &pound;60 per room per night. http://www.antonhouse.com/index.htm

We had two chairs, which are nice when both of us want to read, and a vanity (our computer table). We were welcome to bring snacks or takeout back to the dining room to eat. And we were provided with snacks, cereal, milk, and fruit because, as our hostess said, “Sometimes you just feel a bit peckish.” There was a small refrigerator for our use, and we were welcome to use the room for relaxing. The breakfast was very good too.

I wish I could remember our hostess’ name, but I can’t. She was very friendly, very nice, and we felt like our every need was prepared for. This was an excellent place to stay.

Once we were checked in, we walked to the abbey. It was an easy walk. We were careful to note our backtrail so we could find our way home again. We took a bunch of pictures outside. The setting sun hit the red stone of the abbey and other buildings, giving them a beautiful color. But we could see crumbling rocks and bricks here and there. This is an old building not in good repair.

The abbey looks very old, small, and empty compared to the York Minster, for example. There were no hordes of tourists here. We really liked it, though, as it seemed more a working church. One of the stained glass windows has references to Ellis Peters and Brother Cadfael, and all of the Cadfael books are on sale there.

Brother Cadfael, BTW, is the monk in medieval Shrewsbury who solves mysteries in Ellis Peters’ books. He is a former crusader who has returned to England and joined the monastery. Because of his experience in the world, he is often given leave to take care of abbey matters outside the monastery and to assist in criminal matters.

I enjoyed picturing Brother Cadfael in the abbey and on the grounds outside. The books will all be a little different to me now that I can put real places to the foregate and the castle.

Some of the effigies were in really bad shape, parts disintegrating, or pock marks in the wood. Not having as many visitors as the bigger, better known abbeys, Shrewsbury can’t afford the millions in restoration the York Minster spent. This abbey looks well worn.

We took only a quick look around as it was near closing time. Then we went on to see the River Severn, which appears not only in the Cadfael books, but also in Tennyson’s poem <i>In Memoriam</i>, a requiem for his friend Arthur Henry Hallam who died young. The abbey is close to the river and has been flooded by it at times.

We didn’t go too far as it looked like rain, and we were tired. We saw a really good looking place for dinner, but it didn’t start serving till 6:00. Then we found another place where we could have a pint until they served food, so we went in there. The waitress even brought us some bread and oil with herbs to dip it in to keep us going till dinner.

I had pesto chicken pasta for &pound;10.95. John had a two-course crab and shrimp risotto for 9.95, plus an Eton mess. An Eton mess, as far as we could tell, is the improbably combination of ice cream, meringues, whipped cream, and fruit. We realized Mary had served a version of this when we ate with her and Dan.

We went back to the Anton Guest House then, and I spent hours trying to find us a place to stay in Bath.

<b>Next – Shrewsbury Town</b>

sallyky

<b>England – Day 38 – Sat. Oct. 4 –Shrewsbury Town</b>

I spent the morning working on lodging in Bath. I was beginning to think we would have to skip it and go on to somewhere else. We wanted to spend four nights and I couldn’t get that many nights together. Finally I was able to book the Apple Tree Guest House and couldn’t have done any better. Once I’d booked lodging, I also booked a Mad Max tour to Stonehenge.

Then we walked to the abbey for a good look. After a closer look, I was glad I hadn’t asked yesterday about the dogs at the feet of effigies. Today I can see they’re really supposed to be lions. We shot pictures and I bought a couple Ellis Peters books, one Cadfael and one about the battle of Shrewsbury, the battle between Henry V and Harry “Hotspur” Percy. The clerk told me that if I wanted I could have the books stamped <i>Purchased at Shrewsbury Abbey</i>. Oh, yes, I wanted that.

I had a nice chat with one woman working there about how Shrewsbury Abbey seemed more spiritual, though not as beautiful, as the York Minster. I talked with another about books and government. Yesterday she had pointed out some parts of the abbey that were destroyed when Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries.

“That Henry. When he knocks things about, he really knocks them,” she said, sounding as if it had happened just last week instead of almost 500 years ago.

After a nice leisurely visit to the abbey, we walked up town as far as the castle. Subscribing to the ABC theory, we didn’t go in, but sat on a bench and watched people and checked out the buildings and flowers. We took in the Darwin statue. Darwin was born in Shrewsbury. And then went to the Darwin Shopping Center, pretty much in the center of town, and wandered through it for a while.

At different spots on the plaza in front of the shopping center, we saw two sets of buskers, a girl playing a guitar and two boys, one playing a clarinet and the other playing a ukulele. The girl was too shy and playing too softly to be heard, but the boys were pretty good. With school out, there seemed to be many teens downtown, and the pedestrian streets were full of people.

In one part of town, there are a large number of half-timbered Tudor buildings. They were fun to see. I think most places we’ve been have rock or stone houses, and these were like the places we associate with Shakespeare. We liked Shrewsbury. We enjoyed just wandering around the town.

We ate lunch in a little place called Caf&eacute; Bistro in an alleyway. There were several eateries there. I don’t have any notes, but I remember it was packed and the food, mostly sandwiches and chips I think, was good. We meandered over town as we headed home and just enjoyed being out among all the folks and seeing the buildings. It has been threatening rain all day, but, again, hasn’t produced any yet.

When we got back to Anton House, I worked on lodging in Penzance, which I got fairly easily. Then we went to a local pub our hostess had recommended. It was quite good. There were not only seats at the bar, but also seats on sofas in some nooks, and then the regular dining tables such as we had. It made it feel like a very friendly, homey kind of place.

I don’t have any notes from here either, but I think we both had some very good fish and chips, preceded by a pint. A couple came in while we were eating and sat on the sofa next to our table. As we were getting up to leave, the man said, “I see you have the local accent.”

I cracked up. I said, “Yes, I have the local accent. It just isn’t local to here.” He and his wife laughed at that. Then we talked for quite a while. John and I love these conversations and the connections with people. We’ve enjoyed the number of people who have started conversations with us and are so glad they did.

Recently a friend asked if we’d run into any animosity as Americans. I said absolutely not. Everybody was friendly and helpful. Many, seeing us befuddled, stopped to offer assistance. The conversations were always fun. Knowing my friend’s conservative inclinations, I did make sure to point out that while everybody liked us fine, many people disapproved of George Bush. ;-)

<b>Next – Bath</b>

sallyky

<b>England – Day 39 – Sun. Oct. 5 – Bath</b>

We were early to the train as I had used the weekly schedule instead of Sunday’s. The train route from Shrewsbury to Bath went along the edge of the Welsh border, so we were soon seeing signs in both English and Welsh, both on the trains and outside. I think it would be very difficult for us even to learn Welsh pronunciation.

When we went through Church Stretton, a small town not too far from Shrewsbury, we saw a sign that read: A “Walkers Are Welcome” Town – First in the Midlands.

In the Victorian era, Church Stretton got the nickname of Little Switzerland because of its terrain, so that probably accounts for the emphasis on walkers. The <i>Stretton</i> comes from the Roman, meaning street. It made me want to learn more about it and perhaps visit there.

We changed trains at Newport in South Wales, so we did touch the country. Our train was late and we had to make a quick change to ride to Swinden. During that section, we had to ride in some jump seats in the baggage area. The train was packed. The baggage area is not a car filled with baggage, but the rear of a car where there are compartments to store bags.

John didn’t like to make reservations because we would lose the flexibility to go when we wanted. And, if the reservation system is like it was in London, we couldn’t call, but would have to make a trip to the train station to make a reservation. We never wanted to take the time. But we always got seats, and the jump seats weren’t bad.

This train was one of the ones with doors you have to open from the outside. I had read about them and wondered how they worked. If there’s nobody on the outside who opens the door because they want in your car, you open the window, reach through, and open the door from the outside. John always had to do that, as I am too short.

We arrived in Bath about 4:00, took a rest, and walked into town. It truly did take only 10 minutes or less. Later we timed it at eight minutes. It was a level walk and over a bridge on the Avon River. We saw the place where we’ll pick up the tour, and we saw the abbey.

Then we heard the abbey bells and realized they were loading to start ringing the changes. Boy, did we feel smug in knowing what it was all about. It was already dark, with a bit of moon, and we stood near the abbey listening to the bells and feeling the magic of being in such a place at such a time. Jane Austen herself might have come walking by.

We wandered around for a bit, keeping an eye open for an eating place and decided on SalaThai (http://www.salathai-bath.co.uk/Default.aspx). It was on a side street and you go downstairs to the dining area. It was quite good. My main was &pound;6.50 and rice was &pound;2 more. John had steak for &pound;8.5. We had appetizers, but I didn’t note the price, and Elephant Thai beer for &pound;2.9. Our total was &pound;36.35for two.

We’re staying at the Apple Tree Guest House, a nice conclusion to my long lodging search. It’s more expensive than the previous places we’ve stayed at &pound;80.5 per room per night, but it’s very nice. It’s well located, nicely furnished, and Les and Lynsay are a very friendly, energetic young couple. I liked the fresh fruit cocktail with the breakfasts, which were very good. There was not as much seating in the bedroom, though we did have a vanity for the computer, and there were Cadbury bars in the hospitality basket. We liked it very much.

<b>Next – Stone circles and English countryside</b>

sallyky

<b>England – Day 40 – Mon. Oct. 6 – Stone circles and English countryside</b>

This morning we met the Mad Max tour at the Abbey. I had also considered staying in Salisbury and taking Vic’s Taxi, but since I wasn’t sure of our timing and later decided we could spend more days in Bath by using Mad Max, I decided to go with them.

The interesting thing about this tour was the information Richard, our guide, gave us about Great Britain in general. This was probably because for the hour drive to Stonehenge, we were just driving and this information fit as well as anything. I know I can’t begin to remember all of it, but he talked about things such as car rules.

There is a bigger tax on cars with higher carbon emissions than on those with smaller impact. The driving age in England is going up to 18. There are fines for drivers doing distracting things, even if stopped, such as drinking water, eating, or using the cell phone. If cars are not insured, and thus not taxed, they will be crushed -- literally. People have five minutes to get what they want out of the car; then it’s hauled off to the crusher.

He said the attitude is that there’s no point in having a law if you aren’t going to enforce it. Judging from what he told us, Great Britain is more willing than we are to take steps against global warming and carbon emissions. Conservation is enforced by both carrots and sticks

Another I remember is that in Scotland, the government can take your children away from you if they are obese. I have something about the widespread use of cameras to catch people for something, but can’t read what. It made me think, though, of how so many people in the States oppose using cameras for catching people running red lights. They would have a fit.

Our first stop was Stonehenge, and it was terrific. I had tried to work things out so we could have the special access to the stones and actually walk among them, but I couldn’t work it out. But the experience was still wonderful.

I somehow had the impression from something I’d seen in a guidebook of being outside woven wire fence and not being able to see well. That was not the case if you pay admission. There was only a low rope between us and the stones, although they were some distance away – maybe about 50 yards at the closest. There was a path all the way around. There were sheep nearby, but they were fenced out of the monument area.

If you don’t pay, you can stand outside the fence and view it. Outside the entrance, people with signs protested against charging admission, with slogans such as – Set Free the Stones or Heretics Unite.

There were audio tours, but after a while I quit listening because I felt all the talk was interfering with experiencing the stones. We had an hour there, which I felt was a good amount of time. We didn’t feel hurried, though we could have looked much longer.

From Stonehenge, we went to Avebury and on the way saw one of the White Horses, an object of my desire. I suspect my list of top things to see in England is a little unusual. I wanted to see Newmarket, ride in a punt, and see a White Horse. And there it was, carved out of the chalky hillside. This is also the area of crop circles, though we didn’t see any.

It was perhaps on this leg of the trip that John decided to move up on the bus so he could hear. He had missed everything on the first hour to Stonehenge. That brought us face to face with the ugly American. I was sitting on the single seat up front to deal with motion sickness, so John asked politely if he could join the woman across from me. She grumbled a great deal about how she wouldn’t have room enough, even if John and I took her seat and she took the single.

Someone asked if she had paid for two seats, and she said she hadn’t, but she needed the room to be comfortable. John explained again that he couldn’t hear anything and was missing the tour where he was. She gathered her stuff and flounced off in a huff to the back, declaring loudly that she would rather be comfortable than share a front seat.

We felt bad about the situation, but I did wonder what she would have done if the tour had been full, with no chance of her taking two seats.

As we approached Avebury, we spoke jokingly of a witch we saw, a woman walking two dogs among the stones. She was tall and striking, with long, flowing blonde hair. She wore a full-length red skirt and an embroidered black top. Over it, she wore a full-length, very pale, almost transparent raincoat. I imagine she is the most ordinary person in the world, but it was fun to imagine her as a druid, especially with the misty fog enveloping her.

Avebury has large stones all over, and we could go amongst them, and amongst the sheep. Many of the stones are gone, broken up for building materials or to clear out places to farm. Nevertheless, it’s hard to take in this site because the stones are spread all over. One of my favorite pictures from here is of a wide pasture, many large stones, sheep, and houses in the background. The stones are very much a part of the landscape, including in people’s yards. The village itself and its two main streets are within the monument.

We walked up on a tor, or barrow, the chalk slick from rain. It seemed such dangerous walking we didn’t go far. The weather really was not bad. It rained off and on, but only when we were on the bus. It stopped when we were outside. In the same area as the tor was a witch’s rock with an offering on it – some hawthorn berries, some apples, and a few twigs, probably of some special tree.

We had time to see the stones, visit the toilets, and meet Richard, our guide, behind the car park to see how the earth in Avebury affects copper rods. He held the rods, one in each hand, and they moved in his hands. I don’t know if it was magnetism or a mystical vortex or what. We each got a try as well, and I was surprised at how the rods felt in my hands and how they turned down at a certain point.

When we left, we also drove by Sillbury Hill and West Kennet Long Barrow, two other prehistoric sites.

For lunch, we drove to Lacock and ate at The George. John and I both had fish and chips and Scrumpy Jack cider. It was good. As luck would have it, we had the angry New York woman at our table, but she was so busy trying to create a tete a tete with an Australian naval man that she didn’t fuss at us any more.

Lacock was one of the places where the Harry Potter movies were filmed. The abbey was used extensively for Hogwarts, both for classes and other scenes. I think Richard said the town was also filmed as Harry’s birthplace. And, from an earlier time, Lacock is the town where, in Jane Austen’s <i>Pride and Prejudice</i>, Mr. Darcy rode his horse down High Street.

After lunch, we had the opportunity to tour the manor house or abbey, but we got sidetracked by an exhibit on William Henry Fox Talbot, who invented the negative/positive photographic process. This was important to photography because it made it possible to do quicker developing and to make copies, which previously could not be done. This method became the standard photographic print process, and still is today, though digital has diminished its importance.

Talbot was an interesting person, even as a child. At that early age he experimented with chemicals and blew things up. He was learned in many areas and had a friend who went to the university to study theology at the age of 12.

It’s too bad we didn’t have time for the Cloisters and the Harry Potter stuff, but the Talbot exhibit was very interesting, and we did have a chance to walk around Lacock, which is one of those villages stuck in time. It’s so great for filming because it has no TV antennas or cable or other modern indications. You feel like you’re in the 18th century, or much earlier. The abbey is from the 1200s.

From Lacock we went to Castle Combe, which is not a castle, but a village. It too is stuck in time and has been called the prettiest village in England. It was a thriving town while the woolen industry was going strong, but stopped growing when the industry failed. Consequently, it has remained frozen in place. The day we were there it seemed like a ghost town, though I suspect that in the season, there would be more bustle.

It is about 12 miles from Bath and on the southernmost edge of the Cotswolds, and it has the typical look of a Cotswold village. We walked around a bit, saw the houses, went in a shop, saw the stream and bridge, and visited St. Andrews church, which was built in the late 1200s.

Coming back to Bath, we came over a narrow, private toll bridge that the van could hardly get over. From the bridge we could see canal boats on the river. It would be fun to rent one some time.

When we returned, we saw a lot of Bath as we walked around looking for a place to top off our phone card. There were lots of people everywhere. We walked out on Poultney Bridge, which is a neat place. It’s a bridge with shops on it. Then we had pizza for supper before heading home.

<b>Next – The Roman Baths &amp; the Pump Room</b>

carolyn

Sally, I continue to enjoy your wonderful trip report. I was glad to see your report on Shrewsbury. I am a Brother Cadfael fan, too. We got to Chester but not Shrewsbury.

sallyky

<b>England – Day 41 – Tues. Oct. 7 – Roman Baths &amp; the Pump Room</b>

After breakfast we walked to town and meant to go to the Baths, but there was a large group of teenage boys ready to go in, so we decided to go to the abbey instead, since it’s right next door.

We saw a stained glass window of Edgar, the first effective king of all England. There also was a big effigy of an important Parliamentarian, his wife, and cherubs. There were many memorials on the walls and floor. Later we learned that so many people were buried beneath the abbey that it was becoming dangerous to people’s health. All of the abbeys we’ve visited have had memorials and monuments, of course; I just haven’t always mentioned them.

In the center of the church, there were many angel forms with musical instruments, including bagpipes, which, John says, proves that God will forgive anything.

We then went into the lower reaches of the abbey and could see the Saxon, Norman, and modern levels. There was an attendant there, and John asked her if the musical angels were modern, and the churchwoman said, “They are indeed modern and I don’t like them.” But she liked John’s bagpipe joke.

Then we went into the baths, the hot springs that were considered sacred to the Saxon goddess Sulius and the Roman goddess Minerva. The baths are far more extensive and complex than we’d imagined. We toured all the parts and saw the columns and steps, the carved pieces, the statues, rooms with different temperatures, changing rooms, and the cooling ponds. All along the way, there were displays with information about the baths, the culture of the time, and the artistic qualities of many of the pieces.

In one of the final rooms, figures were projected on the wall and showed Romans entering the baths, disrobing (discreetly of course), and entering the water. These were well done and helped people see how the baths worked. Children really liked them, and we did too.

At one point, when we were at the prime pool, we saw a man in Roman garb looking at the pool and using a stylus to make notes in a small notebook. We noticed that some people didn’t know how to respond to him, and we weren’t sure either if we should talk to him. We didn’t know if he was just to be looked at, like the projected figures, or if he was a bit of living history.

We finally did go over to talk with him and I had my picture taken with him. He said he was a stonemason in charge of repairs and was taking notes on what needed to be done. We chatted with him about his job and life as a Roman away from home. It was really fun.

After the tour of the baths, which took several hours, we went to the Pump Room, which is where people used to go to take the waters. Like any of the healing springs, these waters have various minerals that are supposed to be healthy, but usually don’t taste very good. You could take the water (a glass) for 50 p, or for free if you ate there. We were going to have tea, so I asked the waitress whether it was better to take the waters first or after eating. “Definitely before,” she said. She was right, though John said these waters weren’t any worse than the water where his family lives in Florida.

Tea was very good and the atmosphere was wonderful, especially if you’ve read any of the Jane Austen or Georgette Heyer books that take place in Bath. Everybody goes to the Pump Room to socialize. The room itself is beautiful too, with a rich ambiance of wall color, plaster work, paintings, and chandeliers.

While we were in the Pump Room, I asked John if he knew whether clotted cream is basically butter or what. He went off, in the role of Regency male, in an English accent snit over not wishing to discuss dairy products – not clotting nor clabbering nor souring. He said he had no interest in the unsavory processes of dairy products. He particularly did not wish to discuss dairy products in public, and he certainly did not wish to discuss diary products in the Pump Room. He said I should ask a dairymaid about such topics if I really cared to know.

He did all this so well and was so funny that I laughed till I cried. I know it’s one of those had-to-be-there things, but he really was hilarious.

After tea it was pouring down rain, so we messed around in the shop for a bit, then came home. We went to the local pub for supper. This is another nice thing about the Apple Tree. The pub is less than a block away, and since it was dark and raining, it was very nice to have a pub so close. I had pork chops with apple, peas, and mashed potatoes for &pound;7.95.

<b>Next – HoHo bus &amp; Jane</b>

yk

Hi sallyky-

I admit I skipped over the middle part as those are places that I'm not familiar with; though I'm sure I will study your TR in detail in the future when I plan my next UK trip(s). I am picking your report up now at Bath.

Thank you for continuing this epic trip report. I guess that's one reason why I don't take such long trips, as I will never have the stamina and persistency to finish a long trip report. so THANK YOU as I know how much work, time, energy, and dedication this takes!

sallyky

yk -- I don’t think I will ever undertake such a detailed trip report again. I’ve reached the point where I just want to get it done. It’s consuming my life!!!!! I’ve finished all the days. Now I just have to edit and post.

I’ve kept very extensive journals since we started our RV life, but usually a couple pages a month are sufficient to cover the interesting bits.

sallyky

<b>England – Day 42 – Wed. Oct. 8 – HoHo bus &amp; Jane</b>

We had the full breakfast this morning and enjoyed talking to our fellow diners. There was a group of women from Australia and a couple from somewhere in Sussex. The woman was pretty quiet, but the man was a hoot. He looks something like Pavarotti with lighter hair and is a booming, friendly, funny guy.

He told us a funny story about his alarm going off in the middle of the night and waking him up to some kind of middle eastern music. He said he was surprised no one else heard it. It was loud and energetic.

Brits who have said, told us they liked Clinton much better than Bush. They thought Clinton was good for the economy and the world. One said that Bush seemed like an alien to him because he said such strange things.

From somewhere came this note about a comic who had the following put on his gravestone: I told you I didn’t feel well.

It was gorgeous sunny weather so we decided to take the HoHo bus. It’s a two-part tour, with one part going around the city and the other going along the ridge above the city. One price includes both parts.

First we went around town. We saw many of the Jane Austen sites, including the Golden Crescent and two houses where she lived. And of course the guide pointed out many things we’d already seen – the abbey, the Pump Room, and the baths. But we also saw the Jane Austen Center and the Assembly Rooms.

Then we changed buses for the second half of the tour. It went along the skyline drive to see the city from up high. We got some really fantastic views on this part of the tour. We also saw the University of Bath and some lovely gardens, where we could have gotten out if we’d like. At one point on this trip, we could see one of the White Horses way off in the distance.

We learned that the word avon in Celtish means river, so Avon River translates as river river. It’s like Lake Windermere. ;-) The Romans asked the name of the river and the Celts said Avon, so there are nine River Avons in Britain.

We also learned the Queen Victoria got furious at Bath because, when she came to Bath at the age of 11 to give a speech, a newspaper commented on her thick ankles. She vowed never to go back. Later, she was on a train passing through Bath, so the townsfolk turned out with a band, children with garlands, and all the usual stuff, thinking she would surely see it then. She lowered the shades of her railroad car.

When we got back, we got on the town bus again so we could ride to the top of the hill for the Crescent and the Assembly rooms. I now see why the novels talk about having to climb the hill all the time. It’s pretty steep. We took some pictures of the Crescent and then went to look at the Assembly Rooms, but they weren’t open. I was really disappointed. Some kind of event was being held there, so they were closed for a couple days to get ready. I really wanted to see them.

So we went to the Jane Austen Center, which is about half way down the hill. There was not much to it, certainly not as much as we’d expected. The emphasis was on her Bath connections and on clothes rather than on her writing. I enjoyed seeing it, but I wish it had been more substantial.

After our excursions, we worked our way down the hill and went for a pint. Then John took a number of pictures in the beautiful afternoon light and I went in a bookstore to look around.

There’s an Orvis outdoors store in Bath. Orvis carries outdoor clothing and fly fishing gear among other items. The mannequins in the window grabbed our attention. They could be called What the Well Dressed Angler is Wearing. In this case, the well dressed angler was wearing kickers. Does anyone actually wear those any more? And the male angler was wearing a tie.

We had supper in Sally Lunn’s. The restaurant is in a house that dates to 1468. It is the oldest known house in Bath. Sally Lunn is the originator of the Bath bun, which is a kind of roll. It was very crowded the night we were there, no doubt because it is a well known tourist destination. In fact, the tables were packed so close we were uncomfortable.

Dinner was OK, but nothing special. We had the set-price two-course early dinner for &pound;10. I had a pureed vegetable soup starter and a sirloin. John had lamb. Both included Bath buns, which also didn’t seem out of the ordinary. I’ve read good reviews, so maybe the cook was having an off night. Or people were taken in by the tourist hype.

In general, not just here, our rooms are never warm enough and sometimes downright chilly. We don’t know if there’s a timer or a thermostat or we just don’t know how to make the heaters work. The owners’ areas, the common areas, are always warm enough, if not too warm, but our rooms often feel cold.

<b>Next – Penzance</b>

sallyky

<b>England – Day 43 – Thurs. Oct. 9 – Penzance</b>

Once again we had breakfast at the same time as the big Englishman from Sussex, Rob, and his wife. They are the kind of people who made me wish we’d had more time to become better acquainted and had become friends. He said he was a farmer. He’s a fun man and delightfully exuberant. When they left the dining room, they both said goodbye, shook hands, and he kissed me on both cheeks.

Lynsay, originally from Scotland, told us she and Les were going to Edinburgh for a music festival and she hoped it would be better than last time, when they were rained on for four days straight. Yikes!

Our cabbie said it is harder and harder to make enough money in Bath to be able to live there because housing prices are becoming so outrageous.

Today’s train ride was especially relaxing because all our changes came at the end of a run. We didn’t have to watch for our stops as carefully. We saw some interesting country. At one point, after Exeter and before Plymouth, we were between the sea and red cliffs. Cornwall is somewhat hilly and has bunches of trees. Most of the horses we saw were wearing blankets.

We arrived in Penzance at 3:15. Penzance, BTW, is the most southern large seaside town of Britain. Our B&amp;B was the Camilla House (http://www.camillahouse.co.uk), where we splurged on the deluxe double room. It was &pound;85 per room per night. It was very large, with a huge bed, a vanity, and a chair by the window overlooking the bay.

The Camilla House has a residents bar and guest lounge, which has relaxing furniture and brochures, bus schedules, and other tourist items. When we arrived, we interrupted Simon, our host, at work. He said his wife, Susan, would kill him for greeting us in orange coveralls. He gave us tea in the lounge, plus a map and a nice introduction to town, with directions to restaurants and other places of interest.

After we checked in, we walked down to the marina to look at boats and see a little of town. We love marinas, so this was fun. We saw ads for a trip to the Scilly Isles, but we’re not sure how far away they are. That will be for another time. We also saw a large boat offering pirate stuff. This is Penzance, after all.

We walked on the promenade, a wide sidewalk that rings the curve of the bay. There were places with stairs so we could get down to the tide pools and the rocks along the shore. The walk also led to the Jubilee lido (an outdoor pool or part of a beach), named for the Silver Jubilee of King George V.

The lido, which is not far at all from the Camilla House, is a lovely thing. It’s a 1935 saltwater pool with an art deco design, quite large and fanning out into the bay. It is so evocative of times past that we wished the weather were warm enough to swim. I’ve never thought of a swimming pool as charming, but this one sure is.

I could just see us lying on our beach chairs and soaking up the sun. Some of you may be laughing at me over this statement, but since all we had in Cornwall were sunny days, I don’t know how often it rains there. BTW, Penzance has an interesting climate. The area it’s in is almost completely surrounded by the sea, and this, plus the impact of the Gulf Stream, makes it possible for subtropical plants to grow there. We saw many palm trees.

It’s a bit late to think of this now, since this is our last major destination, but I think it would have been nice if I had put in links to maps of the places we visited, or at least described their location a bit more. Sorry!

We also had some pretty good views of St. Michael’s Mount from the lido. St. Michael’s Mount is a tiny, rocky island across the bay that juts up from the sea like a volcanic cone (though I don’t think it is volcanic). There is a castle on top that we plan to visit later.

For now, we walked up a hill to town. There were narrow streets and old houses. Not a surprise, right? We took a path through a churchyard on our way back down and could see the back of the Camilla House and out to sea.

Here and in most places, the pubs often have names and signs that make you think of Martha Grimes books – you know, The Lamb and the Lion, The Dusty Pheasant, or the Farmer’s Arms – but where we ate that night was just The Yacht Inn. But the food was good.

I had BBQ and chips, with a small salad. John had cod, new potatoes, and veggies. We had a pint and a half. I was too tired for a full pint. The total was &pound;22.95. It was very tasty.

We loved the atmosphere. Some families were watching football. Other groups were talking. Several people had their dogs with them, either curled up under the table or along the bar. We kept having a black cat visit us. The barman said it was a stray. He’d often chase it out, but it would come back. His chasing seemed only half hearted, and nobody seemed to mind the cat was there.

We thought about adopting it, but the two train rides, with changes, and two plane rides yet to come stifled that pretty quickly. We enjoyed it while we could though.

At night, I enjoyed looking out our window at the half moon over the water, and the lights of towns and boats that I could see.

<b>Next – Harry Safari’s tour</b>

sallyky

<b>England – Day 44 – Fri. Oct. 10 – Harry Safari’s tour</b>

At breakfast, John and Simon, our host, had a big discussion about photography and cameras. They both like Nikons, so they had to compare lenses and cameras and shooting experiences.

One of the side benefits to the Camilla House is that their web site has lots of links to other things of interest. One of these was to Harry Safari’s tour. I was a little skeptical, because, when I e-mailed Harry, he said there was no fixed itinerary and he took people to what they wanted to see. I could see a bunch of us who didn’t have a clue trying to direct our own tour.

But when we asked Simon, he said definitely to go and that two other of his guests were going. He said that regardless of where the tour went it would be interesting, and Harry always was interesting. So we signed up. One of our fellow guests was Elizabeth, from Charlotte, NC. She gave us lots of good ideas for further explorations. Harry picked us up at the B&amp;B.

The whole group was very pleasant, and we all had a great time bantering with each other, as well as enjoying the scenery. There was a Swiss couple. The man, Silvio, was really funny. He had a great sense of humor. Somehow it came up that he should have lots of money because of being Swiss (a joke).

He said no, that such images weren't always true. Then someone asked if that meant the chocolate wasn't that good either. And someone else chimed in to ask if it’s not true then that all Swiss are great skiers. Then someone asked about Swiss cheese.

Finally I asked about Heidi. Surely, I said, you won't tell that Heidi isn't real. “Oh no.” he said. “There are many Heidis.” And a grandfather too, I ask. “Oh yes and a Peter for each.” Doesn't sound very funny as I record it, but it somehow made for hilarity then, as those things do when there is a good group enjoying time together.

Harry has been to the US many times on singing tours. He often goes to Cornish reunions in the upper Midwest and elsewhere, especially to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, where many Cornish came for mining jobs. We talked about dulcimers because he said he had a great time playing music with dulcimer players at a North Carolina festival.

He talked about a funny experience at one midwestern festival. In England, cider generally is hard cider, some of it strongly so. So when Harry was performing and saw many people going into the cider tent across from the stage, he thought the people were prodigious drinkers.

Then he noticed that even little kids were drinking cider. He was very impressed with how well Americans could hold their liquor – until he went for a pint after his performance. No bite to it at all.

Our first stop was at a Celtic spring, where people had hung long pieces of rags or clothing on trees in honor of pagan gods. It was said that if you dip the cloth in the spring and then wipe your face, you would become healthy or have your wish fulfilled. Harry said that sometimes Christians clean the cloth off the trees and claim back the well. And perhaps the hanging of cloth is more like rubbing the toe of a statue for luck, than actual worship.

I think, perhaps because the British history goes so far back, and because there are still ancient sites of pagan worship in existence, paganism is much more alive in Britain than in the States. Or perhaps it is just more open or more accepted. I think of Stonehenge, Avebury, Castlerigg Circle, and the healing spring. I can’t imagine a US tour presenting such sites as seriously, though perhaps trips to Native American sites would be accepting.

Then, just a short distance down the trail, there was a Christian baptistery with water from the well. It is very small and there are some stone benches around the sides. It is a place first lived in by St. Madron, who built the enclosure to provide people with clean water. Little is known of him except that he died about 540 AD. Supposedly, when people came to fill their water buckets, he would proselytize. He also taught about the importance of clean water, so people connected the Christian spring with improved health.

I think Harry said the well was known as a healing place even in Stone Age times. Through the centuries many stories of healing came to be connected to the waters. Even when we visited, there were tokens left in the baptistery water, presumably to request healing.

Harry talked about this being a site where the Christian co-opted the pagan, as they did with other pagan celebrations. At Christmas, for example, the holly, ivy and mistletoe became part of the Christian tradition as well as their original pagan one. These are the evergreens of Great Britain, since there are no native pines or firs. Those are German. In the same way, the bonfires to bring back the sun turned into the advent candles.

The pagans celebrated spring as the best time to get pregnant, so the pagan fertility symbols of eggs and bunnies got co-opted into Christian Easter celebrations. Harry said there had been a robbery at a Penzance pet store a couple nights ago. Two rabbits were stolen, but it was OK because the police had already rounded up 19 of them.

Harry also pointed out trees and plants to us as we walked from the parking area to the site, and all along as we saw different places. He pointed out Hawthorne to us, saying it was called Haggadorn, a Scandinavian term meaning goddess of trees. Maybe this is why there was Hawthorne on the witch’s rock in Avebury.

Harry talked about the many evidences of extensive trade in ancient Cornwall, including with the Phoenicians. For example, the Cornish put saffron in cakes. Cornwall had the copper and tin needed to make bronze, and we saw some graves from the Bronze Age. We also saw remains of a long barrow that had some stones that looked like the ones in Stonehenge. Later we saw a round barrow.

We visited the ruins of copper and tin mines. These were in a wild landscape, on the sea, up on a headland, waves crashing below. The old mines look like castle ruins and towers. We had to be careful not to fall in old mine shafts. I hated to miss Tintagel because its setting looked so dramatic, but at the seaside mines, I felt like I saw the next best thing.

We could view the tower only from the cliff, but we walked through the series of tunnels that were used to precipitate sulfur from the smoke after processing the metal. Then they loaded the sulfur to sale.

Once we stopped for pictures along a beautiful agricultural valley along the sea. Here and elsewhere we saw many fields of cauliflower growing. The country was gorgeous, very pastoral, with a sea background. It reminded me a little of Prince Edward Island. I love this country.

Then we rode to Cape St. Just, one of Great Britain’s two real capes, a place where two major bodies of water meet. That is according to Harry. Here the Atlantic Ocean meets the Irish Sea. The other is in Scotland, where the Atlantic meets the North Sea.

We stopped in the town of St. Just for tea at the Cookbook. It’s a teashop that also sells books. Tea was excellent. The cakes were superb. Then a little book got passed around so that we could write a poem if we wished. I did, but I forgot to put it in my notebook, so now I don’t know what I said. Darn.

St. Just looks like it would be an interesting place to stay. The more I write about Cornwall, the more I am convinced that we must return. There are still so many places to see.

At one stop, we overlooked the sea at two very large clumps of rocks. Harry said they look like Charles de Gaulle in his bath, and they did.

He told us about a little girl on the tour who saw some sheep, apparently for the first time. She said, “Oh, look, woolly pigs!”

At one place, primarily a toilet stop, the parking lot was full of people with tripods, spotting scopes, and binoculars. One of our group asked what was up and was told a rare bird had been spotted nearby. The folks descending on the parking lot were “twitchers,” a British term for someone who will travel long distances to see a rare bird. I forget the bird, but I think it was one usually found in America.

US birdwatchers are called birders, but I don’t know if that term includes the notion of traveling long distances to see a rare bird.

The tour was supposed to last from 9:30 to 2:30, but I think it was an hour later that we got home. Nobody minded. We loved having the tour go on. And this was the half-day tour. It was more like a full day. We certainly got our money’s worth.

The sites were fantastic and Harry was full of passion for the area, and he had a great deal of knowledge. We are so glad we did the tour – except that we think Harry might have given us the dreadful colds we came down with a few days later.

He said he had a sore throat and was coughing and hacking all day. Of course he was helping us in and out of the van, so we would have touched hands, the primary way of spreading germs.

We went to the Navy Inn for dinner. We had mussels for starters, and they were every good. I had fish pie for my main. It was very good too. A woman came in with a little dog that seemed to be mostly Jack Russell. It was really cute. It wanted to meet and play with everybody. It growled and carried on in play, and the place loved the entertainment.

<b>Next – Land’s End and Mousehole</b>

sallyky

<b>England – Day 45 – Sat. Oct. 11 – Land’s End and Mousehole</b>

I didn’t have much planned for Penzance because it really was a fairly last-minute decision. I knew we wanted to visit Cornwall, but I wasn’t sure when we’d be there or for how long, and I didn’t spend much time on research. When we decided to spend four nights in Cornwall, Penzance seemed the easy choice. It was at the end of the rail line and it was on the water. I figured we’d find out what to do when we got there.

So, when Elizabeth, the woman from North Carolina, told us of a bus excursion she had taken, we were ready to learn. She had taken the bus to Sennen Cove and then hiked the coastal trail to Land’s End, where she caught the bus to return to Penzance. We were uncertain about hiking, even though it’s just a mile. There was John’s foot to consider and the amount of time we had.

But the trip to Lands End sounded good. Elizabeth told us to sit on the top of the bus and in the front. She said the bus trip alone is worth the going, and it is. You can see over the hedgerows and you’re up among the treetops on the narrow roads.

The bus system seems very good here. There seem to be buses to all the places you’d want to go and at fairly often intervals, except, strangely enough, on the weekends. I probably need to check that. It may just be they start later.

Anyway, we were off and having a jolly time. A Swiss woman was sitting across from us. A young English couple who were section hiking the coastal trail were behind her. And behind us was a young oriental couple. I started off feeling grouchy toward the Swiss woman because she pushed to the front of the bus line instead of queuing up, but I relented when we still got a front seat.

We were all talking together and the English couple, who are from another part of Cornwall, were telling us about the hedges. They are not as soft as you might think, they said. They are rock underneath, and then soil, and then plants. They said people who don’t know better think they can pull over to let another car pass, but hit solid rock and do damage to their cars.

Just then we came upon a traffic jam. There was a car over near the hedge, another car wanting to come the opposite direction, and a bunch of cars between us and the immobile car. After sitting a bit, many of the bus people got out to supervise the situation. They reported the American driver of the rental car had gone off walking to find help. Later they reported the driver had tried to move close to the hedge to let the other car pass.

Aha. A perfect example of what we’d just been told.

Several of the men thought they might push the car, but the front wheels were going in two different directions. One person commented that there probably were enough people to pick the car up and throw it over the hedge. Joke! There was no room at all to turn around, though the first car coming toward us bravely decided to try squeezing by.

Then the other cars were able to move, except those behind the bus. The bus driver got some people behind him to back up, which gave him a little more room and cars could squeeze by us and the car.

Nobody on the top of the bus complained or got grouchy. We were enjoying ourselves with our new acquaintances. It became like a party, with people going off to look at the car, and everybody talking about what would be the best thing to do or why the driver left.

After a while, the oriental couple decided they didn’t have time to wait and got off and started walking. Finally a pickup truck came and some mechanics put a dolly under the front wheels. That enabled them to move the car and we were on our way again. Further down the road we saw the oriental couple, who started waving frantically, and the bus driver pulled over and let them back on.

They were getting off at Porthcurno to see the Minack Theatre. If I had remembered what I knew about it, I would have made a point of seeing it too. I had seen a TV travel show on the theater, but I didn’t realize this is it.

Minack is on the edge of the sea, and the theater seats look over the sea. The theater is hewn out of rocks, and the seats are too. Seeing the theater would be great, and seeing a play would be even better. More and more, I see we have to return to Cornwall.

In the same area is the Transatlantic Telegraph Museum, or, as they say on their sign, <i>Home of the Victorian Internet</i>. This tells the story of laying the underwater cable for the transatlantic telegraph system.

The bus stopped at Porthcurno, but we stayed on to go to Land’s End. I had always thought that Land’s End was a town, so I was surprised when Elizabeth said something about there not being much to do there other than the attractions. Turns out that there isn’t a town at all. It is all the attraction, which has numerous parts. Land’s End is a kind of scenic theme park, but, that said, it has fantastic scenery.

There is a clothing store, a theatre, animals, places to eat, a collection of Dr. Who stuff, and gift shop among other things. We grabbed some lunch and went out to a picnic table by the sea to eat it, heeding warnings against sea gulls. According to a sign at the Lands End Hotel, <i>The Management does not accept any responsibility for any loss of food due to theft by sea gulls</i>! Then we wandered around the coast path and enjoyed the great views.

The Swiss woman caught the same bus we did for the return trip, and then the oriental couple got back on at Porthcurno. We had a good ride to Penzance, no traffic jams. As soon as we got back to the bus station, we got ready to ride to Mousehole. The town’s name is pronounced mow-zul (<i>mow</i> as in hay mow) or it could be spelled as mou – zul (<i>mou</i> as in mouse). The story we heard was that the town was named for its tight little harbor, where boats can zip in during a storm as though it were a mousehole.

Mousehole is, or was, a quintessential fishing village. Today there is little or no fishing, but the village is wonderful. There are winding narrow streets, old houses, little shops, the harbor, an ice cream store, and it’s just fun to wander through the streets. We were there at a time in the afternoon when the afternoon light on the houses was stunning.

There wasn’t a whole lot to do, but we enjoyed the village, watching the boats, seeing St. Michael’s Mount in the distance, and the views of the sea. We also saw the home of Dolly Pentreath, the last person to speak only the Cornish language. That was 200 years ago.

Overheard in Mousehole:
Man A: Mousehole was burned in the 17 century.
Man B: Yes. I thought it was rather late.

Just goes to show you that our notions of late and early history are a bit different.

I saw a lime green VW convertible, with a picnic hamper strapped onto the boot. I loved it. It looked like something Bertie Wooster would drive. Later, I saw people drive off in it with a Weimaraner in the back seat.

A guy waiting at the bus stop and who was later on the bus wanted to talk politics and economics with us. I was just too tired, but I tried. Finally we switched topics to the gorgeous weather and the Minack Theater, and things got easier because I didn’t have to work my brain so much. It wasn’t till he talked about the Minack that I remembered what I had seen on TV and wished I’d remembered in time to visit.

Again, we ate at the Yacht Inn. I had lamb chops and John had BBQ ribs. Both were good. The mains for us both totaled &pound;19.90 The lamb chop had what seemed to be jus with herbs and vinegar, which went very well with lamb and was lamb gravy for potatoes or rice.

<b>Next – St. Michael’s Mount</b>

RM67

That was probably mint sauce with your lamb.

Porthcurno is beautiful - it can only be reached on foot, and out of season you can often have the whole bay to yourself.

Did you see the famous cats of Mousehole? They are everywhere.

sallyky

<i>That was probably mint sauce with your lamb.

Did you see the famous cats of Mousehole? They are everywhere.</i>

RM67 -- It might have been a Cornish version of mint sauce, but didn't taste minty or like the minty gravy I'd had with lamb in Windermere. It seemed a different kind of taste entirely.

Oh, we missed the famous cats -- and of course there would be cats around a mouse hole. I've been searching my memory. There were souvenir cats in some of the shops, but no live cats.

MissPrism

Do you mean to say that you didn't have stargazy pie when you were in Mousehole?

Try to get hold of &quot;The Mousehole Cat&quot; by Antonia Barber and Nicola Bayley.
If you go to http://tinyurl.com/d459f6
you can look inside it.
It's a children's book based on a Cornish legend.
It's beautifully written and the illustrations are magical.

geoffthelobster

I've read that book! It's great!

sallyky

<i>Do you mean to say that you didn't have stargazy pie when you were in Mousehole?</i>

AARGH!!! MissPrism -- I was already lusting after another trip to Cornwall, just from writing about it and thinking about what else I want to see. But stargazy pie? Now, that sounds like something I MUST have!

I see we did not do well in Mousehole -- no cats -- no stargazy pie. I will look for the book, and the Beatrix Potter one with the cat and the dog that looks like a Schipperke with a tail.

Sally

sallyky

<b>England - Day 46 - Sun. Oct. 12 - St. Michael's Mount</b>

We walked to the station to catch a bus to St. Michael's Mount. Since I've started getting a cold, even that little walk was really hard. Later, we'll remember that Harry kept sneezing and talking about how his throat was sore, so we think he's the carrier. But we did get to the bus station, where I found I had looked at the schedule for the weekdays instead of Sunday.

We were there for the 10:15 bus, and there was no bus till 11:25. So we decided to check on cabs. The train and bus station are next to one another, so that was easy peasy. The driver we talked to said she could take us, or we could take the 20-minute walk on the shore path instead. And she would show us where it started.

We decided to walk, but once we got on the shore path, any fool could have seen we couldn't make it in 20 minutes. After all, the path curves around the whole bay. We wanted to get there before 11:30 because the tide was out enough till then for us to walk across the causeway. There are boats to transport people when the water is too high, but we thought it would be neat to walk across one way.

With the tide out, there was loads of activity on the beach. There were people out on the beach with their dogs. Some were throwing sticks for them. We saw some people on horses riding across the sand. Some people were just walking and exploring.

The oriental couple from yesterday came along as we were walking, and walked and chatted with us a while. Then the girl said, “We're going to march now.” Away they went. They were fast enough, they might have been able to make it in 20 minutes, but they went out on the sand and took pictures and messed in the water, so I'm sure they didn't.

We walked at a pretty good clip despite my feeling terrible, but after each 20 minutes section, I could see we still had a long way to go. It ended up by taking us more than an hour. At one point the 11:25 bus passed us. I think it was good to walk along the path because we saw a lot and it would have been fun if I'd felt OK. I'd recommend it under most conditions.

By the time we reached the causeway, I felt so bad I'd really slowed down, so John went on ahead. Some people in front of me were taking pictures, so I stopped and waited for them. And then they took more pictures and I stopped again. Then the man of the group asked if I would like my picture taken. I said sure. That was nice.

Then the man said he didn't want to be rude, but he wondered if I were traveling alone. In a sense I was, so he walked with me the rest of the way. He's from Sri Lanka, but has lived in Cornwall for the last 20 years.

He talked about politics and the fanaticism of most eastern countries, especially over religion, and said that's why he had left. I told him about the conflict between Queen Mary I and Elizabeth 1 over Catholicism and Protestantism, and said that maybe all countries were the same, but the western ones had gotten out of their systems hundreds of years ago. He said he didn't know about that, but he did talk at length about those same topics.

Later, I asked John how this happens to me. Last night the man on the bus wanting deep political discussions; today a Sri Lankan wanting to discuss religious fanaticism and politics. Yikes. And I'm too sick for my brain to work.

John was taking pictures when I got across and I decided to have lunch. I got a pasty and apple pie. I figured I needed to get a pasty to see how it compared to those from the Michigan's Upper Peninsula, which had so many Cornish immigrants that pasties are found everywhere. It was pretty much the same, so the ones in Michigan are as good as the originals. I ate outside and we watched as the water rose over the causeway.

We were surprised at how much of a tide there is. Just during the time I ate, we saw the water come up to the edge of the causeway, then up to people's calves, then their knees, then their thighs. The last people who tried to walk across gave up and went back to shore.

Our first stop was in the visitors' center, where we watched a movie about the Mount and its history. The Mount was the place the first beacon was lit to warn of the Spanish Armada. And it was fought over by the Royalists and Parliamentarians.

I really didn't think I'd be able to make it to the top. Having rushed to the causeway, I felt even worse than earlier. Elizabeth, at the Camilla, had said it was steep and there was a lot of climbing. There are signs around saying you shouldn't go if you're not in good health or not in shape.

I told John I assumed I couldn't make it, but I wanted to try, even if I had to sit down halfway up and just wait while he toured the castle. So we started. There were cobblestones, which were wet and slippery, and a stretch of rock stairs, though at least there was a banister. But, considering all we'd heard, the climb was surprisingly easy. It seemed little time had gone by before we were at the top.

I was so glad I had made the effort. The views were great and the castle was neat to see. There were some people at the castle just sitting on the rocks in the sun. There are people living in the castle, but much of it is open for view. And, BTW, those who live there have to climb up just like we did. There is no easy way for them.

Inside, there is a chest from 1667, wonderful portraits, views out of slits on the walls, bay windows, and an overview of the gardens below. We really wish we could have walked through the gardens, but they were closed. From what we could see, the gardens were full of rocks and shrubs, and looked as if they had been carved out of rocks.

As we worked our way around the castle, we got back to the causeway side. We were very high above it, but we could look down and see the line of the causeway below the water. We also saw dolphins cavorting in the little castle harbor. There were cannon on that level for fighting Spaniards or whoever else might be at war.

There was a lovely church in the castle. The sun was in such a position that the stained glass windows threw beautiful color on the stone walls. There was a statue of St. Michael repelling a devil with his sword held like a cross. We saw ropes for bell ringing and were told that ringers come from the mainland to ring the changes. Neat that ringers show up again.

I told one of the docents I could live in the castle, and she said, “Couldn't we all!”

We started down as a German party was coming up. They helped an old man over the last rocks, but left a middle-aged woman behind. She couldn't or wouldn't go on. We tried to help, but we couldn't communicate very well, and she wouldn't go. It made me angry that she made it to the top, but didn't get to see the castle because nobody helped her over the last little bit. Somebody should have made sure everybody in the group had the help they needed.

Going down, BTW, was harder than going up because of the slippery cobblestones.

John wanted a late lunch, but they had stopped serving hot food. But he was quite happy taking what was available -- a pint and a piece of apple pie. Then we headed back. Boats take you and use different piers depending on the water level. It was quite high. The number of stairs you have to use depends on the height of water, and we didn't have to use any. We just stepped right into the boat.

Back on shore, we saw kids in the water, some of them diving off a breakwater. Some were wearing wet suits, but some were not. Brave souls. That water was surely quite cold. The adults were just sunning on the rocky shore.

The boat landing wasn't really near the causeway or the bus stop we'd seen earlier, so we just started walking up the hill into the town, Marazion, thinking a bus would come through the town center. We saw a woman out weeding and asked her directions. She said there was a stop a little up the hill, but if we walked a little further down the hill, we would see some of the best bits of Marazion. And it was pretty. This is another town it would be fun to explore further.

I checked the schedule and saw we had about an hour wait for the #2 bus to Penzance, so we were surprised when we found quite a group of people at the bus stop already. We no sooner got there than here came the #17 bus to Penzance. Yay.

We got off at the bus station and took our usual shortcut through the marina boatyard, where we ran into Simon, his wife, Susan, and their two Westies. They have two sailboats -- a cruiser and a small racer. They are interesting people, and very nice.

We've noticed the interesting way the boats are tethered so they can remain in the water in both low tide and high. They work on a pulley system. In order to be sure how it worked, we watched some folks who were tying off their sailboat.

When we walk to or from the bus station, train station, or marina, we go over a little bridge that crosses a tidal inlet and makes a small pond. We enjoyed seeing whether the water in it is high or low. One day it was dry. Another day it had kids in kayaks.

We got home for a shower and then, being in a rut, we went to eat at the Yacht Inn. I had chili, which was not very good. I went to bed early because feeling bad.

<b>Next – Salisbury</b>

sallyky

MissPrism -- Now that I've had a look at some recipes for stargazy pie and seen some pictrures, I've moved it from the must-have to the oh-I-don't-know-about-that category. I'm not sure I could deal with the little fish heads staring out at me! LOL

sallyky

<b>England – Day 47 – Mon. Oct. 13 – Salisbury</b>

We’re sad to leave Penzance. We had a lot of fun here. Elizabeth is already gone, but we have been enjoying exchanging travel information with two other couples at breakfast. Another guest from the Camilla is on the same train with us as far as somewhere in Dorset.

We are on a Great Western train, but the South West ones are much better. Of course, the train we ride depends on schedule, not company, so we take whatever comes along. The South West have an electronic message board and a computer generated voice to tell you where you are and what the stops are and what stop is coming up. On the Great Western I cannot understand the announcements at all. Not at all.

And it’s probably just that I feel so bad, but people are moving a lot in the aisles and banging my elbows and knees. People are driving me crazy going up and down the aisles.

We changed trains in Newton Abbot and since I had 10 minutes, I went to the toilet. No sooner had I gotten in the middle of things than the bell sounded and an announcement was made for our train. Boy, did I hurry. And then I ran. John had left my bag on the ground and took off. He said he had seen me coming and would have waited if I hadn’t made it, but I was ready to whomp him. Good thing nobody got my bag before I did.

All the trains are pretty full and well used for lots of different reasons, or so it seems from our observations. We’ve mostly enjoyed our trips, but I must say that the German trains (our next destination is Germany) can’t be any more difficult to understand than the Great Western trains.

We got into Salisbury and got settled in the Hayburn Wyke Guest House (http://www.hayburnwykeguesthouse.co.uk/). We had a ground floor room, fairly large, with a double and a twin bed, a small bath and toilet area. It was 62 pounds per room per night.

We walked to the cathedral along the river. It was a very pretty walk. The water was very fast running in some places and damned up in others. There was open area on our side of the river, but on the other side we could see the backs of houses, sometimes with patios and flowers. We saw many swans. Other people were going along the river too, including some schoolboys on bikes.

We got to the Cathedral at 5:00 and it closed at 5:30, so we decided not to tour inside, but just roam around outside. If we hadn’t seen the Magna Carta in the British Library, it would have been different. That was a must-see. Outside, there were statues of saints, bishops and kings about midway up on the outside walls. We wish we could have identified them. We walked along the inside walk where it went along the cloisters. A lot of work was being done on the outside and there was much scaffolding up.

We wandered around the streets for a while and saw a bunch of interesting points. We saw a memorial to the Salvation Army’s first bandleader, who lived in Salisbury. We saw crosses brought back from the graves of those who died in foreign countries during WWI. We saw the Old Sarum School of Church Music, where William Golding taught school, perhaps giving him the insights into the schoolboy mind, which in turn unleashed <i>Lord of the Flies</i>. We also saw the place where Queen Mary I had three Protestant martyrs burned.

We got lost and then managed to find ourselves. We ate in the New Inn, which had a great atmosphere. Lots of polished wood and soft lights. There was a fire burning in the bar area. We had a pint, then moved to the dining area. It was very nice too.

John had one Badger pint in the bar, and when we moved to the dining area, he asked for another one. Instead he got a Tanglefoot – a different name, a different color, and a different shaped glass. Just incidentally the waitress had an eastern European accent. I find myself creating a stereotype.

I went off to the toilet at the same time another woman did. We got there and there was a sign, but no door. Neither of us could find one. We tried to figure that out for a while, and then went elsewhere and did find the door. But it was out of order, and we had to find the toilet in the bar area. Weird.

The woman at the B&amp;B had told us that the river walk was nice during the day, but perhaps the main road through town might be better after dark. This was a good idea until we got to a big unmarked underground roundabout. There were subways, as in London, but absolutely no indication that we could see of which tunnels went where.

We ended up asking three different people how to get to the street we wanted. And, then, when we got out, we weren’t sure which way to go – it was pitch dark by then. Finally a couple came along who knew the B&amp;B, and the people who owned it, and they walked with us and pointed us in the right direction. I was so thankful to get back and be able to collapse.

<b>Next – Getting to Gatwick</b>