MayseStomp

The countdown!

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Our final day in the UK.  We fly out of Heathrow tomorrow morning and will be back in Atlanta tomorrow afternoon.

We’re ready to go home.  After 43 days on the road we certainly are looking forward to doing nothing but being home, in our own beds, away from each other a bit, amongst our stuff (that all works!), animals and perhaps a little sunshine.  Still, it also feels like it has gone by all too quickly, and despite everything that we saw or did, we were more frequently torn by all of the things we didn’t see or do due to lack of time.  There is no end here!

On our final day, we decided to tour Windsor Castle near London.  We went to Windsor one afternoon with my folks, but we got there too late and the castle was closed for tourists.  We are sure glad we came back – the place is indeed impressive, and rivals Versailles for opulence and interest.  The Queen and King of England have a very nice home.  We only got to see a bit of it (the more historic section) but it’s a fantastic place with too much history to take in on one visit.

We’re now at a hotel near the airport.  We eat dinner here and go to bed early.  Tomorrow morning, we’re up before dawn, drop off the rental, take the shuttle to Terminal 4, lug all of our suitcases and goodies back by hook or by crook and hopefully make it to the ATL late tomorrow.

At lunch in Windsor – we all had burgers, fries and milkshakes and they were a great change of pace!

Walking around the shops outside the castle grounds.

Windsor Castle

Some kind of big “do” going on … guards checking all the guests against a big list and inspecting IDs like at the airport. You aren’t getting into the restricted areas without proof of identification and an invitation, even if you are wearing a ridiculous hat.

Here’s the final map of our travels… 4 different cars (2 rentals, 2 Land Rovers) and over 4,500 miles in 43 days. We’ll never forget it.

Adam

Fun day driving through Wales.  The weather never did really break either way (neither sun nor rain, but both threatened to happen all day) but it was good enough such that we could do and see everything we hoped to.

Our first stop was in Llanberis to take the Snowdon Mountain Railway up to the top of Mount Snowdon.  The railroad is a narrow gauge, rack and pinion track first run in 1896 and little changed since.  The engines are still steam powered and the ride takes more than an hour to go up the 3600′ to the top of Mount Snowdon – the highest point in all of England and Wales.  We had good weather and fantastic views up about 80% of the way … we then entered the clouds and things got so thick at the top that all we could do is wander about in a white haze and take everyones’ word that we stood at the top of a mountain with views to Ireland, Scotland and England all about us.

Abandoned house halfway up the mountain.

Standing at the top – cold, wet & windy and no view due to fog. They serve hot chocolate there, thank goodness!

The kids still had fun, even when there wasn’t much to see. The old rail cars were a lot of fun to ride.

It takes a rugged sort of soul to call this home. The sheep seem to like it just fine, though.

I can’t make much progress with my Welsh.  The signs were everywhere and even a number of radio stations and TV channels were Welsh.  This is very much a live language here and we all had a good time foolishly trying to pronounce things.

The old steam engine.

Afterwards, we stopped briefly in Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, Wales … the longest town name in the world.  It is on Anglesey Island on Wales – it’s pretty small, but still had several tourist buses stopped there to buy items with the town’s 58 letter name printed on them.  The English translation of the name is “St. Mary’s Church in the hollow of the white hazel near to the rapid whirlpool of Llantysilio of the red cave.”

Holden at the train station.

Before heading to our hotel in Llangollen, we went to one more popular-in-days-gone-by Welsh seaside town, Llandudno.  Like most UK seaside towns, this one has a long promenade and an even longer pier heading out into the Irish sea.

Inspecting the goods at one of the antique stores.

Take a good look at the folks in this picture — I dare anyone to find a person under 50 years of age.

Adam:  We’ve headed west into Wales; rough, rugged country.  Land of the unusually strong affinity for sheep, incomprehensibly saliva-soaked place names and a chip on the shoulder about the English.

We had to skip out on Wales on our first pass through the UK due to the car delays, so we were especially pleased to be able to come back here and hit a couple of places that we had originally planned to visit prior to leaving Atlanta.

The most important to us (i.e. the kids) was to visit an actual coal mine and to go down and see how miners did their thing 100 years ago.

Brenda:  We’re currently near Wales, England. Today we’re going to tour a coal mine, which was recommended as a great kid activity. We only have a couple days left on our trip…. we fly home on July 20, this Friday morning.

We’ve been having a fantastic time, except for our car issue.  That was incredibly stressful and no fun at all.

We’re really happy to be back in England.  We spent too much time in France (again!), but it’s such a big country you really can’t avoid driving through it if you want to see all the other places.  The people aren’t rude or snooty (like the stereotype) but are overall just unhelpful and provide really poor service.  If it only happened in one or two places, you can chalk it up to just one bad hotel, or one poorly serviced restaurant … but it happened in practically ALL of the places we tried to do business, including grocery stores.  It’s impossible to ignore the pattern.  France is like a diamond studded turd: some of their things are really worth seeing, but you have to put up with digging through a bunch of shit to find them.

Anyway, out of all the countries we visited, England is by far our favorite.  When we finally got back, it felt almost like coming home.  We just love it here.  The weather sucks, traffic is terrible, and things are unbearably expensive, but it’s just fantastic and charming in spite of all that.  I’m ready to go home now (we’ve been gone 6 weeks, which seems like forever!) but I’m going to be sad to leave England.  Almost all my ancestors came from here, so maybe it’s a genetic pull.

Holden getting geared up at the Pwll Mawr Coal Mine near Blaenavon.

Testing the lights before we headed down.  They are quite serious about gases and sparks. As such, we had to strip down of any electronic items (no watch, no car key fob, no cell phone and no camera) before descending.  Nothing with a battery that could ignite and kill us all.

It was a great tour.  300 feet down where the coal was mined by hand for over 100 years. Kids started working there at age 6 and stayed through adulthood until they met with early, untimely deaths.

They also used horses down in the mines to pull the coal carts.  For the horses, it was a one-way trip down in the “cage” (what they called the elevator).  Horses were sent down and then worked until they died; dead horses were buried in unused tunnels.  Because of the horses living down there, rats were a big problem.  They handled the rats with Jack Russell terriers.  The dogs had a better deal … since they were small enough to be carried, they got to ride up with the miners at the end of the day and go home.

Lots and lots of sheet in Wales … pretty much everywhere you look.

The view at our hotel.

Running around the ruins of Aberystwyth Castle.  Construction started in 1277.    The first cannons in England were fired here on this fort during one of the wars where the English were fighting against the separate, independent Welsh kings.

Aberystwyth is like many of the coastal towns we’ve visited in England … cold, windy and a little run down.  They always look like they would have been fantastic places during Victorian times, but have ridden a gradual, downhill slope since then.  They seem tired, quiet, and almost bereft of anyone under the age of 40.

Making good on my “rain check” for some arcade action.

Cold, windy, bleak and rather depressing.

Leaving Kent (on the far east side) we headed over to the far west side of England. Traffic by and around London on a Monday morning was terrible – and the weather was not much better.  We did, however, get several dry breaks that almost seemed to be purposefully timed for all of our afternoon events.

We headed to the Cotswolds, a fantastically picturesque region of England – full of rolling hills, charming villages, and wealthy “country farmer” estates owned by various lords, earls and the like.

We stopped for lunch at a pub in Woodstock, just down the road from Blenheim Palace. We headed through Oxford and on to Moreton-on-Marsh and the Cotswolds Falconry Center.  This turned out to be a much better visit than any of us would have guessed.  We got a full one hour presentation of their various eagles, falcons, owls and such.  All of their birds spend part of their time each day flying free about the countryside.  They were all raised at the center and always return.  We got a fantastic education about these birds and were allowed to see many of them flying about and demonstrating their various techniques for catching prey, finding and riding thermals, eyesight and hearing trials & etc.

A black vulture picking at Brenda’s leather shoe. Dead is dead, whether it’s splattered on a road or fashioned into comfortable footwear.

An owl that landed right beside me to eat a treat.

A Chilean eagle going in for the “kill.”  The center serves all of these birds dead, whole baby male chickens.  Several local chicken farms donate their male birds… normally they are incinerated (males lay fewer eggs than females) but here they donate them by the thousands to feed all of the carnivorous birds at the center.

They didn’t let him go out while we were there, but we could get as close as we dared and get a real good view of this Bald Eagle.

This row of cottages was built in 1380 as a Monastic wool store.  The town has been called the “most beautiful” in all of England.  It was indeed pretty.

Pretty girl running to and fro in front of an antique shop while the others were inside negotiating a purchase for Holden – a leaded crystal turtle statue.

Walking up to Northleach church … just another small town and yet another church going back to the 1150s.

Tonight we’re staying at a great 2-BR apartment in Cheltenham and we drive into Wales tomorrow morning.

Back in Canterbury and the surrounding regions.  The weather is back to middle-of-July cloudy and just a wee bit coldish.  We welcomed the change from the South of France – too hot and no one with any A/C.

Mom and Dad will remember this plaza, right in front of the Canterbury Cathedral and always crowded. (Except when Dad and I look for open coffee shops at 6:30am.)

A house down the road clearly built by a Jeffery forefather.. 🙂

The quote painted above the crooked door is “…a very old house bulging out over the road…leaning forward trying to see who was passing on the narrow pavement below…” –Charles Dickens 1849 – David Copperfield

Brick church on Left, Roman wall on Right.

Richborough Roman fort and amphiteatre (or what of it is left).  This was the very first roman fortification and permanent site after the Roman invasion in 43 a.d.  At the time, this site was on a peninsula surrounded by water on three sides.  Since then, the water level has lowered and we’re now some 10 miles away from the North sea.

We had the place to ourselves and it was a wonderful opportunity for the kids to run around and roll about in the flowers.

Taking the drive back to Canterbury. You never make good time on these small, one lane roads.

For those of you who have perhaps felt that my daily missives were a little dull for lack of travel “inconvenience” (all the best travel books are full of pain and suffering), I trust that you will find the following story an entertaining one.

Saturday morning: We woke up and had breakfast in our room (in Bailly, France) prior to hitting the road once again, heading towards the Chunnel. We had a 2:30pm appointment to cross from Calais to Dover, but we expected to arrive several hours early – and past history has shown that we can easily catch earlier trains with no additional cost or problems.

Idyllic setting of an old (but still very much working) farm in Bailly, France where we stayed. They have converted part of the grounds to a neat B&B.

Walking around the “neighborhood” near our hotel.

The drive north to the border was pleasant enough – we stopped along the way to fuel up (and use some of my excess Euros to get them out of my pocket) and get some croissants, coffee and tea.

11:30 – driving up a hill only 5 miles out of Calais (and I am not exaggerating… only a measly 5 miles from the Chunnel train terminal) the car suddenly lost power and began making a horrible rattling noise from the engine bay. We had to pull to the side of the road and I quickly killed the engine. Lifting the hood showed that oil had sprayed out all over the engine bay – and a dipstick checked confirmed that there was no more oil in the pan.  We had driven 2947 miles in that Land Rover from when we first took possession of it in London (with my folks).  We were stuck with a dead car in France.

I got on the phone with the car’s mechanic (Colin) in Hartlepool and broke the news.  As helpful as he might want to be, there was little he could do in another country … if only we were in the UK.  I called my UK insurance company who said that I had to originate the issue with the emergency service and police in France.  I called “112” which is their 911 for autos in France and explained the situation and our location.  By the way – nobody speaks English in France if you want them to, and I do not speak French well enough to do anything.  I managed to get my story across and understood that we were to wait until the police showed up.

12:00 – instead of the police, a tow truck showed up.  He did not speak English.  I showed him the problem and he could say “de car ees kaput.”  He loaded up the car and took the 5 of us to his offices in Calais.  I then forked over a ton of cash for his help (it was the weekend, and it was Bastille Day, a Holiday in France).  We then discussed options.

Our French rescuer

2:00 – Since the car cannot run, we cannot take it onto the Chunnel.  We did have the option of perhaps filling the car full of oil and somehow limping it onto the train – and then rolling off on the other side to English soil.  The key was to get on English soil, where the service companies that Colin is hooked into could take over.  The French mechanic/tow guy did not like this option, but was willing to let us do any old stupid thing we wanted.  He recommended that we take the ferry over the English Channel – under these terms, he insisted that the ferry company personnel would tow our car onto the ferry, and then tow it off on the other side.  All in French, and I don’t speak French – so I was doing a lot of guessing and showing a lot of suspicion over this plan.

Still, that was what we decided would be best.

2:30 – Our French tow guy drove us and the Land Rover over to the Ferry company and helped me buy Ferry tickets for 5 passengers and one dead car.  He then drove us over to a special designated area where we sat waiting for our 3:20 Ferry.  We parted company with him.

3:20 – The Ferry is late.  We continue to sit, wondering if anyone will ever come over and help us.

3:50 – I found a UK police officer (walking a drug dog along large trucks) and asked him if someone would eventually come along and deal with us.  He explained that, yes, we were in the right place and that sooner or later, a tow vehicle (the large kind that have 5th wheel tongues to load 53′ trailers) would help us.

4:00 – The Ferry arrives late and a French crew with a tow trailer arrives and tries to hook us up.  The old Land Rover does not have a modern “tow point” underneath the vehicle.  They refused to attach to the front axle.  A French woman supervisor came over, reviewed and told me that they would not be able to tow the vehicle.  She wanted me to drive it on.  I explained to her that if we could actually drive the car, we wouldn’t be sitting out on the Ferry quay in the middle of nowhere waiting for someone to help tow us.  She refused to help and I told her that we would then have no choice but to sit here.  We couldn’t sit there because of some security concern.  She finally gave me a piece of paper and had me write out in longhand that I would not hold them responsible for attaching the tow rope to the front bumper – which is where I wanted them to attach all along.  On the Land Rover, the front bumper is basically a huge metal I-Beam, attached at 4 locations to the front frame, and is sturdy enough to mount winches & etc.

4:15 – We get pulled onto the Ferry – first one on!

4:20 – We’re now out of the car and upstairs, in the lounge (after long overdue potties) and are buying any food we can find since we haven’t eaten anything since breakfast that morning.  Some of you may know how Brenda feels about boat rides.  She began administering anti-nausea medicine to everyone in the family and found a place where she could sit down, remain calm, and try to forget not only what we’ve already been through, but also what she’s about to go through.

Holden passed out on the ferry. All three kids were wondering why they were so tired all of a sudden — Brenda explained that’s a side effect of the anti-seasick medicine. They were outraged. “You mean you DRUGGED us?!”

Approaching the white cliffs.

4:30 – Meanwhile, I’m on the phone with Colin trying to sort out what we’re going to do when we land.  I book a rental car in Dover for us to use.

The Ferry ride is about 1 hour 20 minutes… and we gain one hour via time zone change landing in Dover.

4:45 – They tow us off of the ferry (last ones off!) and deposit us in a parking location around the main office.

Now, a great number of discussions take place on the UK side with the Ferry company staff.  Since we crossed countries, we had to clear UK immigration in France (no problem) but would also have to clear France immigration on the UK side.  The problem was that while I could leave the grounds and get my car, I would not be able to get back in (they were closed now on Saturday evening).  Also, I then find out that the car rental office had closed at 4:00pm so there was no car to retrieve.

The Ferry company then reports that we cannot leave the car where it is overnight unattended due to security concerns.  They suggested that Brenda and the kids leave, clear immigration and get a hotel.  I could leave the car parked there overnight, but would then have to stay with the car that night, or in their 24-hour Ferry terminal.  Even if this made any sense, I told them that Brenda wasn’t approved to drive in the UK and wouldn’t be able to get the car and then get back in.

6:00 – The Ferry company decides that they would get one of their tow vehicles and pull us just far enough to get out of the “restricted area” and out of their jurisdiction.  They explain to the French what they are doing and we get pulled officially into the UK, and then deposited into a parking lot just at the entrance of the terminal – one that only allows parking for 15 minutes at a time.

7:00 – I have been trying to find a hotel available in Dover, Canterbury or any of the surrounding areas … and nothing is available for that Saturday night – everything is booked.  I still had my original reservation in Margate, about 23 miles away. I find a taxi company in Dover who will drive the 5 of us and luggage up to Margate that evening.

8:00 – The taxi comes, picks us up and takes us to our B&B in Margate.  We leave the car where it is overnight, hoping for the best.

8:30 – I’m on the phone with the car rental company trying to confirm that we have a car reservation for the next day, and to find out when the offices open on a Sunday.  They say they never saw my reservation.

9:00 – We’re at the B&B and they agree to make us a late dinner – Fish and Chips for 5.  I have a beer and want 3 more.

Before dropping us off, I made an arrangement with the taxi driver to return the next morning at 9:30am and take us back to Dover and the car rental agency office.  I get online and make a new reservation to have a car available.  The car I want is no longer available (SUV to carry 5 and all our luggage) so I get the biggest they have and hope for the best.

We go to bed at 10:00. Exhausted, cranky, sick, worried.

I get up early the next morning and make hotel reservations for us on Sunday night in Canterbury thinking that:
a) Everything goes to plan… we get to stay in a great town nearby, have time to play and have some fun, and then start fresh on Monday.
b) Everything goes to crap… we’re close enough to Dover to have taxis take us there and back with little difficulty.

Next morning, I’m on the phone with Colin, who is making arrangements with the British equivalent of AAA to look at the car and, hopefully, tow it from Dover to Hartlepool.

8:00 – We’re having a full English Breakfast downstairs … our first great meal in waaaay too long.

9:30 – The taxi driver shows up right on time.

10:00 – The rental car office is open and they do have my original reservation.  What’s more, they have an SUV for us… one that we can keep for the week and drop off at Heathrow when we’re ready to leave.

10:15 – We’re back at the Land Rover – which did not disappear, did not get towed and does NOT have a boot on the tire.  It was thankfully just ignored.  Brenda starts unloading all of our possessions from the LR to our new SUV.

Things starting to look up!

10:45 – The AA guy shows up, confirms that the car is broken, and gets on the phone with his central dispatch.  They start making arrangements for towing.

11:00 – We give him the keys, get in our SUV and drive off.

11:30 – We’re in Canterbury having fun.  24 hours later.
What happened?  We don’t yet know … but the current theory is that some seal/gasket on the turbo failed and that it began taking in all of the oil.  It is academic now as that the engine is almost certainly ruined and even if it hasn’t been thrashed, it won’t ever be in our car.  Colin, to his credit, has been sick about the situation and is paying to have the car returned and will be dropping in a new engine.  He (and rightfully so) has taken full responsibility and will make things right by us.

The French – they were either not helpful or would help with one hand out to get paid.

The British – completely and almost embarrassingly helpful.  They went way out of their way to try and help us, bend rules, check in on us, several of them offered to personally give us ride to various locations.  They wanted no money, just to take care of 5 foreigners in a bad spot.

The kids – could not have behaved better.  Two of them are sick.  No complaints, no fights, no problems.  They KNEW that the shit had hit the fan and had the good sense not to add to the stress levels we experienced all day.

The fact that the car died in France made the situation much more difficult than if the car had died just 10 road miles down the way… On the other hand, it did not die on us driving up the hairpin, 1 lane mountain roads in Switzerland.

We have our rental and spent the rest of today having a wonderful time – hit a Starbucks to load up on coffee, tea and hot chocolates.  Great lunch in The Moat Tea Room, wandered about town, window shopped and then drove around the countryside enjoying the afternoon.  Our hotel tonight is fantastic, we have internet access, a place to clean clothes, and can walk to dinner.  So, we’re back on schedule … just a slightly different schedule.

On the bright side, we actually picked up two extra days to play – since we no longer have to drive the LR up to Hartlepool and then drive back down.  The car is on its way back to Colin’s garage.  He should have it no later than Tuesday afternoon to begin replacing the motor as well as fixing all of the other niggling problems that we experienced or noted during our 4 weeks of driving.

I’ll be talking with Colin later this week about what are the next steps, and what restitutions will be made to us for what has occurred.

Leaving Limoges yesterday morning, we had planned to drive up to Versailles and tour the Chateau again – this time during the summer when the plants were in bloom and the fountains were turned on.  We booked a hotel in a town nearby (on the West side of Paris) thereby hoping to avoid the traffic and problems of downtown, and yet get in a good day of seeing a wonderful location a second time.

Unfortunately, the weather did not behave. It was cold in the morning and rained the entire 240 mile drive up.  As we got within about an hour to Versailles, it was clear that we weren’t going to spend a bunch of money as entry fees to wander around the gardens in the rain.  We began making other plans.

I suggested that perhaps, as long as the weather is cruddy, we could park at Versailles and take the Metro into downtown Paris … perhaps find that little shop near Notre Dame where Brenda bought some lithographs over the New Year’s holiday time period.  I didn’t have to suggest twice.

In Versailles, we found a place to park just several blocks from the Metro station, figured out how to buy tickets, and 30 minutes later, we were in front of Notre Dame. We found a place to eat on the Left Bank of the Seine and then began hunting down the shop.  As luck would have it, he was open, and we are managing to bring home several new prints – all by Yves Brayer.  We bought one of his horse lithographs the last time.

It never really cleared up, but the rains stayed away, and it was plenty warm in town.  We spent the afternoon just walking along the river, seeing the sights, and enjoying a very pleasant Friday afternoon.  Today (Saturday) is Bastille Day – so there were many things going on in preparation of some real celebrating the following day.  It was fun to see everyone getting ready to party – and just as gratifying to know that we were getting out of Dodge before it got too crazy. As Brenda observed (based on personal experience): “You do not want to be in Paris the day after a party.”  The day before was wonderful, and the visit did a lot to erase some of the sour memories we had of this place just 7 months earlier.

Later in the day, the rains began to spit again, so we high-tailed it back to a Metro station, rode back to Versailles, and then drove to our B&B in Bailly (about 10 minutes from Versailles) to crash for the night.

Woops, here we go again. Didn’t expect to see this on the trip!

Shopping at the little stands along the Seine.

Hanging out at the Quay.

Obligatory shot along the river.

The Locks Bridge. Lovers put locks up with their names written on them, to symbolize being locked together in love forever. (Brenda’s note: The “Jinksist” in me would never allow me to do such a thing!)

Playing in the fountain at the Louvre. This time, we actually could go in if we wanted – almost no line. That would have eaten up the rest of the day, so we decided to skip and just keep walking around town.

Baguettes, naked statues and Ferris wheels. All at the Tuileries Gardens.

Holden trying to “relax” like the others at the West Fountain in the Jardin des Tuileries. He’s the third guy in, leaning back in his chair.

Carting around my treasures: that tube is filled with three lithographs by Yves Brayer, one of them signed and numbered by the artist.

Champs de Elysees, ready for tomorrow’s Bastille Day parade.

This was my view of Brenda once it looked like it was about to rain. She has her treasures in that tube and was not about to let them get wet. She has higher and higher speeds to shift into when she wants them.

We got up early on Wednesday to make the drive northward from Toulouse. This next destination held particular interest to Brenda, who envisioned walking from porcelain store to porcelain store (a la Delft) finding all sorts of treasures at unbelievably low prices. As it turns out, Limoges doesn’t have as many stores as you would think that sell their particular brand of porcelain art – it took us some time wandering about to find various artists’ stores located in out of the way alleys and corners. Brenda did, however, find something that was worthy of the name and was affordable – and so we come home with a hand painted, enameled copper plate.

We spent the rest of the day there having lunch and window shopping.  Limoges isn’t terribly large and you can see the complete, pedestrian part of town in just a couple of hours. Afterwards, we drove to our hotel which was about 10 miles away in a non-descript neighborhood.

As we head north, the weather turns cloudier and cooler.

Jockeying for position.

Not a right angle in sight.

Here is my prototypical French Man. Heer zi am, weeth my Gauloises an my gold shains et ze opeen sheert. I veel make ze luff tu you, eef you wahnt me tu.

Hot chocolate break.

Enameled copper plate from Limoges, now safely at our house. The artist is Lea Sham’s. (You can google her and see other examples of her work.)

The bronze sandpiper is by Steve Tyree, an artist from Oregon.  He has a website, too. http://www.tyreesculpture.com/

This location should win back from Jason some of the respect I lost by failing to visit Bron-Yr-Aur.

Carcassonne is a fortified French town – special in that it has remained, more or less, in tact since the 1200’s. Most places may keep a building or two – there aren’t many full towns that avoided ruin or destruction/modernization over the past 800 years.

It is wonderful to see such a place complete – all of the narrow alleys and small stores, squares and the outer walls, parapets and moats.  Unfortunately, the place has been turned over to folks who have turned it into too much of a tourist attraction.  All of the stores are open but sell the same cheap tourist crud that you can get anywhere else.  The place was packed with people – so it’s popular, but we’ve seen enough other special towns, towers & etc. on this trip to see that this place is now clearly a tourist attraction and not something so much to be revered as to be enjoyed like a Disney attraction.

We still enjoyed ourselves wandering around, and the weather could not be beat. Our meal service for lunch was so bad we got up and left.  Ah, those French and their deep concern for the foreign traveler…

After the visit, we continued on to Toulouse – and our hotel. We were all tired and I had a lot of backlog work to take care of (thanks to no Internet previous 2 days) so we just went to the local grocery, loaded up on some dinner food and wine, came back and ate in. Then, off to bed.

At the entrance. Carcassonne is a walled city.

Holden looking tough (or just hot). He’s feeling much better, now.

Soaps from Provence. Brenda bought 5 to take home.

Holden with one of his only purchases — a hand-made wooden sword with “Carcassonne” stamped on it.

Guarding the walls. There are lots of places here that make Mamas nervous.

This is what you might imagine it to be … the receiving end of the king’s loo, 3 stories up.  That boy was almost half disappointed that nothing was dropping down.  (So were his sisters!)

France has no end of gorgeous towns and architecture from the 1000-1700’s.  Beautiful stuff.

We decided to spent a couple of days in this area to see more sites.  It turned out to be a good decision – Holden’s sickness got worse and he spent the better half of the day in his room, on his bed, trying to get away from the heat and to keep his food down.  We made several trips back and forth to the Carrefour (grocery) to get goods to cover us all for breakfast and snacks.

Then, my GPS up and died on me.  It had been acting a little weird on and off during the whole trip – but it finally wouldn’t respond for us at all.  We headed back to the store and we purchased a new unit (cheaper, not as good) that we hoped would have a control setting to change the speech to English (it does, but in a strange sing-songy voice).

Finally, Brenda decided it would be best if she stayed at the hotel with Holden and the three of us tried to make something of the day. We headed off to Pont du Gard, one of the sites that I had wanted to see in the area. The girls were not too excited, but it turned out to be a lot more fun for them than they had imagined.

Pont du Gard:  Roman aqueduct constructed in the 1st Century AD over the Gardon river.  The lower level was a bridge for traffic, the 2nd level transported water.  The structure itself drops about 56 feet over the length of the river, while the aqueduct only drops 1″ over the same length, indicating the incredible skill in engineering they had.

Fun for the girls – playing in the river right below the bridge. They chased tadpoles and smaller fish for about 1/2 an hour. It killed them that they didn’t think to bring their swimsuits.

Isabella on the bridge.

After lunch, we hung out at the hotel room and rested. Holden thought he was feeling a bit better and Brenda was anxious to get out and see something of the day, so we headed to another nearby town, Tarascon, where I had read that they had a neat castle/keep.

Holden in front of the castle, on the drawbridge.  This castle’s construction started in 1401 and completed in 1449 by Louis II and Louis III of Anjou. This was when Provence was its own Kingdom, prior to uniting with La France to the north.  It was turned into a military prison in the 17th century.  What made this castle great (for us) was the complete access it provided… no guided tours, no blocked off areas. We could wander about from room to room, with hardly anyone else there, and get a real sense of how these buildings functioned.

Isabella in the garden outside of the castle area where they kept the kitchens.

Holden starting to feel not so good again, after walking up too many steps.

On the roof of the castle, over looking the Rhone river and Castle Beaucaire on the other side. Gorgeous!

View of the town below.

Leaving Monte Carlo after only one evening, we headed west along the Riviera passing Nice, Cannes & St. Tropez, then turned north entering the Rhone Valley and into Provence.  Our hotel is in Beaucaire, but we spent most of the day visiting Arles.

This town is now most famous for Van Gogh’s stay here for 2 years – his most prolific time and when most of his most popular paintings where made.  He wanted to come to Provence to get some sun, and they’ve got plenty of that here. We are suffering now from too much heat!

Arles is just the right size to wander about for an afternoon, not too touristy. The girls did some shopping and we also picked up some medicine for Holden.  He has caught something and has been feeling sick for the past couple of days. We decided to spend two days in Beaucaire, which serves as a good central point for us to see some other locations around here tomorrow.

Streets of Arles along the Rhone.

Location and approximate view of where Van Gogh’s “Yellow House” once stood.  It was damaged during WWII and is no longer there.  We ate lunch at the Creperie where the building once stood.  The other buildings (behind, to the left) and the railway bridge are still there, making it easy to see what Van Gogh saw when he painted this in 1888.

Typical street view

Josie and Brenda shopping. All those table linens from Provence you can spend big $$ on at Williams-Sonoma — they are selling on the street here for next to nothing.

Pretty alley

Roman coliseum built in the 100’s.  Not only is it still standing, but it is still used – every Wednesday and Friday they do Bullfights.  We were surprised to learn that this region is still big on bullfighting – we’re not all that far away from the Spanish border, but I never knew this sport was also popular in southern France.

Outside Arles in one of the many sunflower fields.  There are also fields of lavender and grapes everywhere.  The colors here are bold – blues, yellows and greens.  Purples when the sun sets.  Arles is where Van Gogh painted his famous sunflower paintings (as decoration for his Yellow House in the above photo.)

This is the treasure we brought home from Arles. It’s a cast iron kitchen hook in the shape of a bull’s head.

After a couple of days in our apartment outside of Milan, we sort of hated to leave.  The place was old and without A/C, but terribly charming and a beautiful location to just be together as a family.

We decided to begin our long swing back north to the UK by driving through the northern tip of Tuscany, round to Genoa and then on to the West into France. The drive yesterday morning was absolutely perfect.  Not a cloud in the sky, fast roads and scenery that could not be topped. Our drive to Genoa was like an Olive Garden commercial – all of the houses made of brick or stone, with just enough of the plaster removed to look aged, curved tile roofs, crops in the field, burnt sienna hills in the background.  It’s easy to see why folks fall in love with this part of the world.

Brenda experienced more “under the Tuscan sun” than she liked:  since she’s on the left hand side, she was in the sun all morning long (I was much more comfortable, on the right, in the shade) … and so Brenda was relieved once we headed back up into the mountains one more time to cross the border into France.

Our final stop for the day is Monaco.  We got a hotel that is 5 minutes from the famous Monaco Casino.  After we parked (again, got lucky … real lucky) and unpacked, we walked down to the sea side to take in the lifestyles of the rich and well-bred. It is HOT here, and we spent more time sweating and finding water to drink than we would have preferred.

Monaco looks just like you would think it should – exotic cars everywhere, rich folks wandering about trying to look more important and powerful than the others.  The prices here are impossible.

Monaco is the 2nd smallest country in the world and you can pretty much tour the entire thing, front to back, in one day. After seeing the casino (I went in alone to gawk since the kids weren’t allowed through the front door) and seeing the stores, cars, and people along the main drag, we walked over to Monaco’s one beach to let the kids play a bit in the water.

We then walked back, found a place for dinner that wouldn’t kill us, and then back home to bed by 10:00pm.

We’re only staying one night here – the hotel we rented had A/C, but it wasn’t working for us.  Also, the TV wasn’t working right and I was pissed off enough about the A/C that I made a stink at the front desk and pulled out of our 2-day plans here. We’ve decided that we’d have more fun heading a bit north and getting away from the French Riviera.

Don’t get me wrong – it is very nice on the Riviera – but we just didn’t plan our vacation with beaches/sand/swimming in mind.  We don’t have the gear and don’t want to deal with the mess.  Besides, these places are crowded, expensive, and you really can get better quality beaches on the Florida coast.  We want to see more of the countryside and less of topless, fat 50-year old women.

The famous Monte Carlo casino – just like in the movies.

And, just like I’ve seen on TV, they keep all of the elite cars out front for everyone to gawk at and feel small.  I wandered into the Casino alone (can’t bring kids, can’t bring camera); the Belle Epoque architecture is gorgeous.  The main tables are not as fancy as I had hoped and the clientele was not as cool and James Bondish to suit me.  There were private galleries where the fat cats gamble, but they wouldn’t let me in there at all.

Some window shopping along the main drags.. being a Sunday afternoon, everything was closed.

Plenty of yachts out in the bay.

The most expensive dessert we hope to ever buy in our lives (US$18 each)- at the Cafe de Paris next door to the Casino. This is where you can sit and people watch – which is pretty entertaining. The price for food and drinks, however, was at a new level of extremism.

Fun on Monaco’s one and only beach. Lots of skin being shown all around, most of it not the kind you want to see.

… and what do the Muslims do?  Well, the women loosen up by showing almost all of their face.  The men show their sexy backs.  It was HOT HOT – this cannot be pleasant.  Their God sure does care about stupid things, no?  Brenda raised a good point — here they are, the woman all covered up … but the man is looking around eyeing all of the topless French girls.  I guess it’s ok if they are Infidels.

A very pretty city.  The view you get, rounding the last curve of the highway once the entire bay comes into view is absolutely gorgeous.  The country is a fairly tale example of consumerism and privilege.  We just were not born to the right sets of parents is all…

It’s hot. Sunny and hot – something we haven’t experienced previously on this trip.

Today I woke up, wandered over to the local ATM for more Euros, to an open bakery for fresh breakfast croissants, then back to our place for a nice breakfast in.

Afterwards, we drove to a park-n-ride for the Milan Metro subway system and, after figuring out how to buy tickets, where to go.., rode down to central Milan.

Our station dumped us out right in front of “Il Duomo”, the largest Gothic cathedral in the world.  Access inside and around was free, but we also opted to spend a little extra to give us access to the stairway to the roof to see the thousands of sculptures, gargoyles and detail up close.  The views at the top and around Milan were fantastic.  We also got there early enough to avoid the crowds; compared to the packed avenues later in the day, we felt like we practically had the place to ourselves – a feeling I always enjoy as it helps my mood, my chances to keep track of the kids, and my ability to photograph what we’re doing.

Afterwards, we walked aimlessly down streets and window shopped in perhaps the most famous fashion capital in the world.  I wanted to buy a new set of funky, fashion-forward Italian clothes for all of us a-la the Griswolds, but Brenda wouldn’t let me. In the end, I did buy a tie (for that maybe once a year requirement), so that I can say I came to Milan and participated.

Milan is also famous for Da Vinci and The Last Supper – we didn’t go.  The small church where this painting was made is quite fragile and crumbling.  They will only accept 25 tourists in over any given 30-minute time period.  As a result, reservations to enter the church are regularly out 6 months.  News like this pleases Isabella to no end.  She has decided that one church/basilica/cathedral/dom is pretty much like any other in Europe – and she’s really not all that wrong.

The cost at cafes in Milan was just ridiculous – and this is coming from someone “used” to the price of European travel (and the weakness of the US Dollar) over the past month.

Near the Duomo, we took a break at a cafe for cokes, an espresso and a tea. Each of the small bottles of coke cost €6.50 (US$8.00) as an example.  (I could hear Jim snorting his disgust and derision all the way from here.) When Josie proceeded to immediately dump her Coke all over the table, it wasn’t the mess that had me pissed. (My folks will remember the spilled hot chocolate in London…) Fortunately, the waiter saw it, saw Josie curl up and begin silent-crying huge raindrop tears, and raced over to save the day. Indicating “no-a problema!“, he brought to her another coke and a basket of chips (both for free), which also calmed me down a bit as well.

Later in the day, to escape the heat and the crowds, we stopped for another drink – and found it was cheaper instead to order pineapple and gelato deserts for each of us than it was to order a soda/tea/coffee … so that is what we did.  Afterwards, the same store sold bottles of water for only €1.50 if they were “to go” – which is how we managed to wash down the desserts.

Keep in mind that restaurants serve two purposes – to get food, and to (ahem) get rid of former food.  You don’t get to do the latter without the former … so to some degree, keeping regular requires an ongoing tax of food purchases that you may or may not be able to do without at the time. With 5 people (3 of them children), keeping everyone on schedule and at their proper levels of input and outgo takes some practice and forward thinking.

On the positive side, wine here is just about free.  The store next to our hotel has a wide selection of Italian wines for €1.80 to €3.50 per bottle.  I chose a high-end wine for tonight that cost us €4.50. While in France, I bought a Bordeaux brand I knew from home, which cost €10.50 there and goes for about US$40.00 at home.

We are eating more of our meals in.  Local groceries sell food at quite reasonable prices, despite the weak dollar. Come dinner time, we’re tired and want to be in anyway.

As a result, it has been generally cheaper for us to find out-of-the-way bed-n-breakfast locations which can accommodate the 5 of us (more expensive) but then save the extra expense by avoiding eating so many meals out.  This has also been a bit more fun (after a month of this, eating out is no great thrill) trying the local stuff, weird brands & etc, and has been easier on the pocketbook.

No reports lately on the Land Rover, because it has been performing wonderfully (well, for a Land Rover… ) Brenda will hate to see me write this, as she is a devout Jinxist, and is certain that by my very mentioning our lack of difficulties and happiness, we are guaranteeing a cursed future. Time will tell.  (Note from future Brenda:  time did tell … on July 14.  Bam!)

Inside the Duomo

Up on the roof. You can walk around all over the top of the building … the roof is made of marble.

View of the Piazza below.

Recovering from the spilled Coke incident. Those itty bitty Cokes are $8, and the fantastic basket of free chips. Josie can cry and stuff chips in her mouth at the same time.

Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, completed in 1877. A gorgeous double arcade full of high end brands from all over the world. As the Dos Equis guy says, “I don’t always shop, but when I do, I go to Milano.”

Lots of beautiful people about, carrying little bags of treasures. The Italian economy is doing just fine along these special 10 square blocks.

Friday was mostly a driving day, and a mostly unpleasant one for us.

After breakfast in Sörenberg, we packed up and began our drive south to Italy. We experienced the worst weather we’ve had on the trip … cold and rainy on the north side of the Alps, turning to warmer and heavily rainy on the south side.  The drive up and through the Alps was slow — heavy traffic, bad weather and a lot of trucks. Nowadays, one doesn’t drive so much up-and-over as in-and-through. There are now many tunnels that cut through the mountains, culminating in the impressive Gotthard road tunnel that was a full 10.2 miles in length.

We had visions of a peaceful lunch in some small Italian villa once we crossed, but our delays kept us from crossing the border until around 1:30. The northern part of Italy along the highways was highly industrial. We got frustrated and tempers flared as lunch and our fantasies of rustic villas and guys who look like Guido serving us disappeared.

We drove right by Lake Como in a huff and a rainstorm. Some say it’s quite pretty there… we’ll never know.

We got into our hotel around 3:00 pm. After getting the parking situation resolved (always fun) and getting unpacked, we wandered through this outskirt/suburb of Milan for lunch. The town was deserted – one guy finally told us that everything was closed and that we were “too late” for lunch. We would have to wait until 6:00 for dinner.

Isabella got sick the day before (cough and fever) and was feeling rotten. Brenda was right behind her. So we snacked on the few items we brought with us from Switzerland and then took naps until dinner.

Once it was finally time to eat, the rains began again. We raced over to a restaurant that had just opened and finally had our first proper meal of the day. I speak no Italian, and where we are, finding anyone with English skills is rare. It turns out that-a talking like-a da this, does not help them understand you. My ATM card was rejected for the first time, with a terse notice that I needed to call my bank (open on Monday) to unlock it, since the computer has decided that my recent withdrawal activity was just too suspicious. The last several hotels where we have stayed (including this one) were cash only, and we are close to tapped out. I did bring a “backup” card from another bank (with not so much $$) that should get us by until I can call the good folks at SunTrust on Monday.

After dinner, the skies cleared, the heat of the day cooled off, everyone took showers and relaxed … and things got fun again. By bedtime, we were ready to discuss the next day’s plans – spending a fun filled day in Milan, Italy. And we did just that.

No photos of driving in the rain in tunnels, or disciplining children, or fighting with my spouse; so I’ll present some more idealistic ones of a hike we took yesterday in Switzerland.

Hikes in Switzerland come in only two varieties – straight up or straight down. There was never any level ground to get anywhere fast. We would go up for 15 minutes, sweaty and huffing and puffing, and find ourselves like 1/4 mile away from where we started, still in view.

Brenda showing the kids how to make a whistle out of a plant reed. This turned out to be far more interesting (and competitive) than anyone would have thought. All 3 kids spent the afternoon blowing on weeds until they, too, got it down. Then, the screeching got really annoying.

Josie was the first to get it right, and then spent a lot of time rubbing it in to the other two.

Brenda and Isabella finding “spittle bugs” in the plants.

Isabella, with her Swiss army knife, preparing her next whistle. This is Adam’s favorite shot of Isabella on this trip.

White trash travelers, hanging out their laundry at every stop. We spent a lot of fun time on that ratty, outdoor balcony sofa. Coffee/Tea in the morning, wine time in the evenings.

For the past couple of days, we have been staying at the “Free Spirit Lodge” in Sörenberg, Switzerland. When we arrived here last evening, it was late and pouring down rain. The place looks quite unassuming – a dark, older building that looked like it had been kept up by a commune of hippies. Once we finally found the place, we had serious doubts as to whether or not we would spend the night. I wandered around the building, trying to find an appropriate place to enter when I was finally accosted by the owner – a very kind Swiss man who runs the place.

He showed me the rooms (rustic and basic, but large) and told me the story. This lodge is over a hundred years old and for many years housed several families who lived together – all brothers or sisters to each other. Their last name was Lindt, and they worked in Chocolate. When the Lindt family finally got wealthy in the chocolate business, they all moved away and got individual houses of their own. The owner now (a 3rd generation heir, named Rene) purchased this place and runs is as a ski resort chalet in the winter and “chill out” lodge in the summer. He has Bob Marley posters hanging on the wall, and all sorts of quirky knick knacks installed all over the grounds. He has clearly chosen a different path from some other members of the Lindt family, but loves what he does here. He has two sons (aged 5 and 4, who are of Sri Lankan descent) that he adopted.

The place is clean and turned out to be a great place for us to stay. We can build a fire in our room and there is actually enough sleeping room for 8, so we got a chance to spread out a bit. The bathrooms are not en suite, and the shower leaves a lot to be desired, but for a couple of days, it has been a fun place to hang out. Brenda wanted a couple of days here, where we weren’t driving around or trying to meet a schedule, and it turned out to be a fantastic idea.

The two boys here are a bit young for Josie, but that hasn’t kept them from playing around the grounds. It has been good to give Josie a chance to get away from her siblings and play with someone new. Between their German and Josie’s English, they seem to manage just fine.

This morning, the sun was bright and the temperature was brisk. Brenda and I sat outside on our balcony, drinking coffee and tea. The only noises to be heard were the birds’ chirping, water from a nearby stream, and the clanging of the cowbells up the hills. It was as close to serenity and perfection as we’ve gotten on this trip.

With the good weather, we decided to spend the day hiking. We headed down about 5 minutes from town where they had a lift up to the top of the Brienzer Rothorn mountain. It’s only about 7500 feet up, but it one of the highest peaks in the Alps, and gave us a complete 360 degree view of a good portion of Switzerland. The views were truly stunning. At the top, the kids found some accessible snow banks, still unmelted in the July heat. They immediately started scooping and throwing snowballs at each other. We had to drag them away before too many ended up in tears.

We hiked around the top, drank hot chocolates in a restaurant near the peak, and then returned back to our cabin for lower elevation hikes throughout the afternoon.

This has been a fantastic two days of hiking and relaxation in truly beautiful and peaceful country. We’ve had a chance to get more laundry done. The kids have all gotten some “cave time” away from each other so that every one is in a good mood and ready to take on the world again tomorrow.

We’re running out of time on this journey and we’ve had to start making some tough decisions as to direction and what we will be able to see. From here, we’ve decided to head south into Italy and begin a long curve westward through the south of France before heading north towards the UK again. This means giving up Bavaria and Austria, but giving us a more mellow travel schedule heading back. With luck, we’ll be in Milano tomorrow evening.

The Free Spirit Lodge. The smoke is coming out of our chimney, from a fire we built ourselves in the antique fireplace.

Isabella doing a “the hills are alive…” spin.

Kids running far to out ahead of us… Sörenberg in the background.

Mount Brienzer Rothorn

Brenda about to get a back full of snow.

This was a far more dangerous shot than it looks… John and Elaine will remember the trail at Dover and why we backed out. It wasn’t windy here today, but with Holden along, we just couldn’t trust us too far down this path before we retreated.

Josie sitting by some forget-me-nots. We think those little white flowers may be edelweiss, but we’re not sure.

Hot chocolate at the top. Very disappointing hot chocolate, too … just a packet of Swiss Miss and some hot water.

The view heading back down.

From atop Mount Brienzer Rothorn, looking down into the Interlaken Valley and across to the southern portion of the Swiss Alps. Breathtaking.

A full day yesterday (July 4). The weather behaved until around 4:00pm giving us enough time to see and do everything we wanted.

We got up early yesterday, before breakfast was being served at hour B&B, to do a hike up in the Black Forest near Badweiler. Our hotel was only about 100 yards from the start of a trailhead. We spent about an hour walking uphill deeper and deeper into the forest. It was a perfect way to start the day and get the gets drained a bit before we sat down to eat.

After breakfast, we packed up and headed south into Switzerland. We drove through Basel and Bern on our way to Interlaken for lunch. We stopped there to get some money (Swiss Francs … they don’t take Euros) and get some food. Because the Franc is so strong against the dollar, everything is just ridiculous expensive. As a rule of thumb, you can safely double any price you would expect to pay for things in the US – and at tourist prices at that. Our pizza dinner for 5 cost us about US$70. Gas is about $8.30/gallon.

After lunch, we drove up into the Swiss Alps to visit a town called Grindelwald – originally a popular ski resort town, but nowadays also a popular summer activity resort with many miles of hiking trails across the Alps. We wanted to hike the Black Forest in the morning and hike the Swiss Alps in the afternoon – and did just that. The views and beauty are everything you have heard – Brenda kept referencing Alaska since so much of it reminds her of the prettiest parts of her childhood. These are the first “real” mountains the kids have ever seen and so even these jaded punks let out a few “ooh!” and “wow!” statements when they thought no one was listening.

Then the rains came and we made our final drive to where we’re staying, another resort town called Sörenberg. More on that tomorrow.

Running in the Black Forest, near Badenweiler Germany.

Josie stopping to smell the flowers.

Lake Thun, Switzerland – the deepest blue lake we’ve ever seen.

Up in the Alps … more fireweed. Get in for a picture, kids!

Logging roads in the Alps.

Upper Grindelwald Glacier at the top of the photo.. This spot was particularly dramatic, because the wind would blow off the glacier and down into that channeled valley. It felt just like standing in front of an A/C unit, where if you moved off to the side 50 feet in either direction, the wind was gone.

We got to do more 4-wheeling. The hiking areas where we visited were only accessible by logging trails.

(More cowbell for Jason.) The cowbells were surprisingly loud. I think they might drive a person mad after awhile.

Holden in his favorite spot, with iPad in hand … while the rest of the family is out exploring.

This evening, we’re in Badenweiler, Germany – deep in the Black Forest – home of Cuckoo Clocks and Schnapps.
We left France in the morning and headed towards Triberg, Germany where I had a hike planned up into the mountains… but the weather turned poor and we had nothing but rain once we got up into the upper elevations and into the clouds. In the end, we drove through the town and stopped at a couple of clock stores to see what was offered, but we didn’t stay long.

We then headed back out of the mountains toward our final destination – Badenweiler, in far southwest Germany. Since Roman times, this town has been a popular tourist spot due to the natural hot springs. It is still quite small, but there are at least 10 different spas in the area that cater to rich clientele who need to “take the waters”.

Too much time was spent in the car today, in too poor weather. We walked into town and bought some baskets of fruit for dinner, returned, and are now resting and preparing for our continued trip south – into Switzerland tomorrow.

Triberg, Germany.. Elevation 3200′. The rain clouds loom.

Brenda finding some “Alaskan” fireweed up the Schwarzwald of Germany.

Parked outside our hotel. Across the street is an enormous sheep field. (Enormous field, regular-sized sheep.)

Lunch in Badenweiler. Once you get out of the major towns, folks do not speak English. This makes for “entertaining” exchanges. Still, we managed lunch as well as 2 large German waffle deserts with cherries and cream afterwards.

Part of our hotel.

Isabella and I both purchased pink pearl necklaces from a local shop. (That’s what is in the little blue box she’s holding.) Now, deciding what to do next!

Adam:  For the past several days, we have been staying at a house in the Alsace-Lorraine district in France. I found this place online and it turned out to be a better selection than we had hoped (some of my choices do NOT turn out that way..) This is a 2 bedroom 1-bath house that was owned by the landlord’s parents who (we think) recently died. The place is basically untouched since they previous owners left, which gives us some fun insight as how an older French family lives. Brenda immediately took to the laundry services, full kitchen and enough space for all of us to get away from each other for awhile. It has a nice large backyard, sot he kids could finally get in some proper outside play. It comes with good WIFI and a place for me to set up and get some work done. We went to the grocery store, bought supplies for breakfasts and dinners to keep expenses down and moved it. It has been great, but it is now time for us to head out again.

Meanwhile, back at home, we got reports that our upstairs air conditioning unit had quit working. Temps got up into the 90’s upstairs, preventing our housesitter from sleeping in the bedrooms. She has tried to open all of the windows at night, but the temps aren’t dropping enough overnight to bring things down to a reasonable temperature. I called an AC repair shop in Acworth today and he went out there this afternoon to review. I’ve been sitting up late in France waiting for his call. I finally got the word that a busted capacitor + a new charging of freon was all that was needed and things should now return to normal. It’s a bit unnerving to try and manage these things away from home, 6 time zones forward, but we got it done.

Brenda:  Right now we’re in Metz, France. Out of the past three days, we spent two nights in Amsterdam and last night in Koln (Cologne) Germany. Both are heavy party towns, so we were a bit out of our element and the nights were really noisy for sleeping. For tonight and tomorrow night, Adam found a house in a tiny town in France, down at the end of a quiet street. It’s incredible. It was built in the 1950s, and we’re guessing it belonged to the parents of the guy who rented it to us. We think they died and he inherited the place, and decided to use it as a rental. Anyway, there is a sweet little back garden with a cloths line and a kids’ playhouse, and behind that is a huge field and a lake. We have more space here than we have since we left Atlanta, and it feels really good. I was able to wash a bunch of clothes and peg them outside rather than drape them over furniture in a dinky hotel room. Luxury!

We’re having a fantastic time in spite of several setbacks and issues (mainly with the car and bad weather) and got to feeling rushed for time, so Adam called the airline today and extended our trip another 8 days. Now we will be going home on July 20 instead of July 12.

Cathedral Saint Étienne de Metz in downtown Metz.

View of the backyard, open fields and hills in the background. This shot was taken around 9pm, giving you some indication of the long day here at this time of year.

Living room, dining area.

Isabella in the kitchen.

Finally, room to park this monster!

Yesterday we stopped in Luxembourg for lunch. Luxembourg is a small country – you could fit 8 1/2 of them into Idaho County. It is the only remaining Grand Duchy in the world. I dare you to try and name another. They are extremely wealthy there due to their loose banking policies. It is a great place for shady folks to park their ill gotten gains. The Jong Il family (as an example) reputedly have more than US$4.5B parked here. Per capita GDP is more than $80k a year and it shows. The land is attractive, well kept and gives off the impression of wealth. We walked down to the pedestrian center of town to find something to eat. Being Sunday, if the store were to open, it would not open until 2:00pm. We had limited choices for lunch around 12:30 (we were all hungry and were not going to wait..). Many outdoor cafes were open for lunch, but the prices were far too high – making the other locations we’ve visited seem cheap. Per person prices ran from €25 to €35.

As a result, we finally broke down, put aside our prejudices and the result:

A Big Mac’s a Big Mac, but they call it “Le Big Mac.” (Pulp Fiction joke, for those like my mom who will not get it.)

It was still too expensive.. and I got into a fight with the girl at the counter who did not give me enough change back. (She shorted me €10). It is not easy for me to fight in French.. In the end, I won however, when the manager came by and found the missing €10 note sitting on the ground where the girl had dropped it.

Afterwards, the weather being marvelous, we walked about.

This city, like so many others in the area, started out as a Roman fort.  It is perched on the edge of precipitous cliffs that drop into the narrow valleys of the Alzette and Petrusse rivers. This leaves many deep gorges that have been spanned by many bridges. The views are beautiful.

Finally, some room to run around! That is Isabella, if you look very closely.

Adam said, “Stand there, it’s a great view.” Little did I know he was making a joke at my expense. My family makes fun of me for seeking out the art scene everywhere I go.

Afterwards, the drive continued south to France.  Today, we had breakfast in Germany, lunch in Luxembourg and dinner in France.

We arrived into Amsterdam late yesterday afternoon and got ourselves checked in. I was able to find a room that could take the 5 of us; it has absolutely 0 creature comforts, but it is right now in the central part of town, putting us within walking distance of everything we wanted to see and do. The TV here has only one channel – the Disney channel in Dutch. This has forced us to get out and about to keep us from going crazy.

Amsterdam is attractive, but a bit too crowded, fast-paced and frenetic for us. The city (at least the tourist area near the center of town) is full of 20-30 year old kids from all over the world – backpackers, bums, Eurotrash, and everything in between. They wake up and get out around 5pm, sit out all evening smoking and drinking beer in cafes, along the canals and about town. Since it never really seems to get dark here (it sort of dims between 11pm and 3am) I can see how it would be very attractive to party all night long in the clubs, down the streets, on the boats on the water and so forth – and everyone does.

It is a town designed for bicycles and everyone seems to have one. Bicyclers have priority over pedestrians and cars and I’ve found that as someone walking around, it can be rather difficult – there aren’t many sidewalks dedicated to walkers – we usually have to share the roads with bicycles and cars and they are not shy about taking you out if you’re in the way.

All over town are the Coffeeshops (as opposed to the safer “koffiehuis” and cafes) which is code for the dens that serve up all sorts of Marijuana, psychedelic mushrooms and related products. They are all over the place and over the past two days we’ve seen young folks all over town openly smoking joints in and out of doors, and have wandered into outdoor wafts of that identifiable, slightly sweetish smelling cloud.

On the plus side, this city has many young, attractive, blond girls riding around on bikes. This is a not-altogether unpleasant benefit, if you’re into that sort of thing. Even Brenda had to concede that a lot of “models” seemed to be riding all over town for our entertainment. All of the European guys look gay to me – and surely to the girls as well, to my thinking.

One of the interesting ironies of Amsterdam is that the oldest part of town, thick with 500+ year old churches and great stately buildings, is also now home to the famed Red Light District. We wandered over there late this afternoon and, one wrong turn down a few back alleys too many, found ourselves in Gomorrah. Brenda quickened her pace and began scrambling down streets to find a way out of the maze before our kids became a little too worldly for their own good. We passed by gay sex shops and long lines of prostitutes standing behind glass panels, on display for the choosing, while Holden and Isabella argued obliviously about some video game detail that they couldn’t agree on. Josie complained bitterly that she was hungry and wanted dinner, but Brenda wouldn’t have any of it until we had cleared a good 20+ blocks away from that area, much closer to our hotel.

Brenda was thrilled with the quality and quantity of street art available. There are a great number of would-be artists in town and they’re eager to sell their works cheap to make ends meet… Brenda purchase 5 paintings here over two days and can’t wait to get home and find places to show them.

Every corner, bridge and canal is highly photogenic – Amsterdam makes anyone a brilliant photographer. It’s a fun place, with no end of things to see and do, but really is designed around a great nightlife and 20 year old party mentality. We did see families and older folks, but they looked and acted a bit out of place – I sure get the feeling that they would prefer to somehow take back their historied and elegant town, and send the young punks to some other corner of Europe.

 Brenda’s note:  After we left Delft, we went into Amsterdam to spend two nights. Our hotel was right in the middle of the old city center, which is now the party district. Specifically, it’s the gay party district. There were a lot of really faaaaaabulous! dudes wandering around.

I was kind of uncomfortable in Amsterdam just because of the “element” … BUT the place was crawling with artists, so I went nuts again buying art from stoners sitting in Rembrandt Square. I’ve never seen such an abundance of really spectacular art, and they were selling it for practically nothing. If that’s what marijuana does, then bring it on … I’m on board 100%. Whatever it takes for people to produce art that fantastic coupled with the willingness to sell it that cheaply!

I bought three watercolors from a guy who paints in “a style in honor of Rembrandt” — which are realistic landscapes of Amsterdam and absolutely gorgeous. Then I bought another two paintings from a guy that I called The Alice-In-Wonderland Guy; he had two very different styles of paintings and I asked if he did all of them. His English wasn’t very good (and I don’t speak Dutch at all) but I think what he was trying to tell me was that his realistic paintings were ones he did sober, and the weird ones were done while he was on mushrooms. Anyway, I bought two of the psychedelic mushroom paintings. Adam doesn’t like those nearly as well as I do, but I think they are just super, super cool.

The paintings lead to us accidentally blundering into the hooker district. Two of the paintings I bought from the Rembrandt guy are gorgeous views of Amsterdam’s Church of St. Nicholas. I wanted to find the view and get a photo from the same location as the paintings.

That poor church is now smack dab in the middle of the Red Light district. When we realized the area was getting a bit rough, we got semi-lost trying to find our way out. The prostitutes stand in glass doors of their little bedroom places of business and just hang out in their underwear until a customer comes along and picks them. Thank goodness Holden was so busy talking about video games he didn’t notice. Isabella did, but had the maturity not to say anything until we were well out of the area. Josie was hungry and kept whining “Let’s just eat there! I don’t understand why we can’t stop and eat there!” while pointing at the “Coffee Shops” which are actually marijuana bars. We were glad to get out of there.

Brenda bargaining with one of the local street artists. This was the “Rembrandt” guy.

Rembrandt Square. Artists and everyone else hanging out in the parks.

View of the housing near our hotel.

House boats line all of the canals. Those who don’t have any land to plant their gardens get inventive.

Large Starbucks – recently opened. They are trying a “new concept” store, much larger with different serving styles, a higher end coffee bar, different foods, games, tweets to the public when baked goods come out of the oven & etc.

The Bloemenmarkt – a floating Dutch bulb market with all sorts of exotic plants. The internet warns that most are not legally able to enter into the US, despite the assurances of the street vendors.

You see… some seeds and plants are more exotic (and banned) than others.

Anne Frank House

View of the Ann Frank house. It’s the 70’s looking building on the left. They actually saved her house, and then built an entire museum around the thing. I wanted to tour the house this morning, but the lengthy line kept us away. We didn’t go, much to the pleasure of the kids. We did walk over to the Van Gogh museum, which was fantastic if you’re into him, and then to a diamond museum that celebrates Dutch and Amsterdam expertise in the diamond trade since the 1500’s.

In front of the Rijksmuseum.

Strange bird – doesn’t have webbed feet but what look like a series of lily pads on each of its’ toes. We found out later that it’s a coot.

Nicer looking houses along one of the canals.

Brenda and Josie walking back from a stain glass window factory.

Nicer looking houses along one of the canals.

Josie learning the routine from her mama. This was the psychedelic mushroom guy.

Today I performed a near impossible feat – I found a parking spot, in downtown Amsterdam, for our huge vehicle. After this, everything else is gravy. More on that tomorrow.

Today, we spent the day in Delft, Netherlands – famous for the pottery and Vermeer. Both were in abundance there.

The town isn’t very large, and while it does have some tourist element, it is fairly low key and quite appealing to us. Brenda found a wealth of shops and vendors all selling unique products that we couldn’t proceed without. Even the kids walked away with Delft cows, windmills, turtles & the like. Brenda found two paintings and an old coffee grind some 60 years old.

Brenda’s note:  I think one of my very favorite days was the first day we spent in the Netherlands (Holland.) We stopped for lunch and a wander-round in Delft, most famous for that white and blue pottery. I went absolutely nuts and spent close to $400 on paintings (two antiques), an antique coffee grinder (which I will nail to the wall at home and force Adam to use instead of his fancy electric grinder), and a hand-painted trivet tile. I don’t know exactly how I’ll get all those fragile items home, but where there’s a will there is a way.

The only downside of the afternoon was that Josie managed to lock herself into the bathroom at the restaurant where we ate lunch.  It’s an old converted house, with the bathroom (just one) at the top of the steepest and most rickety staircase I’ve ever seen.  We sent her up alone because there was only one teeny tiny potty (no room for two in the bathroom) and the stairs were likewise only suited for one human body at a time.  Anyway, she locked the door — and then couldn’t figure out the ancient mechanism that unlocked it.  We were all sitting downstairs and outside, so didn’t hear her banging and crying.  Just at the point we were starting to think maybe someone should go see what was taking Josie so long, she came outside with her face all streaky and said, “I was locked in!  That man who doesn’t speak English had to let me out with a knife!”  This is now known to Josie as the very worst place on the whole trip.  Delft — the place where the bathrooms are not to be trusted.

Antique “Koffie” grinder, hand-painted Delft ceramic.

Hand-painted ceramic trivet, by De Blauwe Tulp

Antique painting of chickens, found in street vendor stall

Scene of Delft, painted by Stevensz — he died sometime around 1990, this painting was done probably in the 1960s.

We had lunch there and spent most of the afternoon wandering along canals and down charming alleys.

The weather today was just perfect – almost 80 degrees. The drive through the Netherlands was fun – lots of green farms, windmills and all the other items you would expect here.  It really does live up to expectations.

The car is behaving marvelously and today we experienced the kind of drive, stops, food and fun that we had dreamed about during the planning of this trip.

Shop where we bought the coffee grinder. Those things hanging on the rack are old strap-on ice skates.

Our second day in Antwerp.  We had nothing better to do than to wander about the town and see the sights.

After breakfast, we headed out to walk from our hotel to the main canal on the west side of town, stopping for window shopping along the way.

After lunch we walked from store to store to store in the diamond district. Antwerp is the diamond capital of the world, largely controlled by the Hasidic Jews here. There are whole blocks in this area that are filled with nothing but one jewelry store after another – selling almost nothing but diamonds and the various gold and platinum settings to hold them.

We ate lunch at an Irish restaurant and dinner at a Lebanese restaurant – since there really isn’t anything like a “Belgian” restaurant. We have, however, found the time for Belgian chocolates and “warme chocolademelk” drinks. Waffles tomorrow for sure before we head out.

Holden at his happiest. My parents will surely remember seeing a lot of this.

This is a new jacket for Isabella. The girls visited a second hand store (thrift shop) and found a cheap jacket in her size. It was one of the few things she decided was worth spending her own money on. The red purse was a new purchase for Josie.

One of the jewelry stores.

Store after store. Each of the white signs represented a different diamond shop down one lane.

Antwerp railway station.

Street shots.

We’re in Belgium! We left London early the morning to make the 2 hour drive to Dover to catch the Chunnel train. Fortunately, we made better time that I had feared, and we were able to catch an earlier train with no additional cost or inconvenience. The Channel crossing went without a hitch – we had to take a special train that can accommodate buses, tall vehicles, cars with trailers & etc.

By 11am we were in France and racing East across the northern coast to go to Belgium. In less than an hour, we crossed the border and began looking for a place to eat lunch. We stopped in Veurne for soup and spaghetti, and to spend some time walking around the central square, grabbing some groceries, and getting used to the culture shock of the new environment and Dutch language.

We had previously decided to spend the night in Antwerp. Brenda had wanted to visit there to see the famous diamond district, and since we had visited Bruges in the past, we thought this would be a pleasant change. The city is larger and more modern, and much less touristy. It has a much more “international” feel, which is PC for “there are a lot of foreigners and strange looking folks here.”

We had gorgeous driving weather – 80 degrees and sunny – and the drive through Flanders is pleasant and picturesque. Things didn’t start to get crazy until we got into downtown Antwerp and tried to find our hotel. There is significant road construction going on in the center of town and many of the streets are closed or have been routed into opposite directions. After several attempts, our GPS just couldn’t get us to our hotel. We had to pay to park on a street some blocks away and then check in. Then, the fun began.

They don’t have any parking there, and all of the parking garages in the area have a roof limit of 1.85m. How high is the Land Rover? I don’t know… Holden and I then went on a walk to find a hardware store in the area, buy a tape measure, and then walk back to the car to find out that my Defender measures just under 2.2m. While the girls got settled in the room, Holden and I drove all over the place trying to find a parking garage with the requisite roof height. After about 20 minutes, we managed to find a place and finally got settled. We all then had to walk to the car to get our luggage & etc and bring back to the room.

It wasn’t until after 5 that we got settled and were able to walk about, seeing the sights and scoping out locations for dinner. We’ve decided to stay an extra day here tomorrow to give the town the proper level of attention.

Walking around Antwerp. If you want jewelry, this is the place to go.

Outdoor cafe for dinner, a first for us on this trip! The weather is finally pretty good.

Brenda, washing the windshield in Veurne when we stopped for lunch. This is the only way to reach it all. The Defender is a big car.

It’s just the 5 of us again, trying to make our way around Europe.

After breakfast, we decided to head back into London to visit Grays & The Mews Antique Market that Brenda ran into several days ago, but didn’t have enough time to properly peruse. After several £2500-£4000 items convinced her that everything was out of our league, we decided to head towards the London Zoo.

The weather was perfect today, and we all enjoyed a long walk through Regent’s Park and then to the Zoo.

We’re now back at the hotel, fed, bathed, and ready for bed. We need to get up early tomorrow and will be making the Chunnel crossing into France. We have a room booked in Antwerp, Belgium for tomorrow night. Wish us luck getting there!

Sunbathing in Regent’s Park

Brenda stopping to smell the (English) roses.

Giant moths at the zoo.

Isabella inspecting leaf cutter ants crawling along a rope at one of the BUGS! displays.

Honey bees.

Sunday was our last day with the folks. We had to return to London to be able to help put them on an airplane out of Heathrow very early Monday morning.

We decided to park down near our previous London hotel (where I still had a valid parking pass) and take the Underground to the British Museum. We split up into two groups and spent several hours seeing what we could see. We’ve been there twice now and still haven’t hit all the wings of the building.

Afterwards, we wandered about looking for a place for lunch and settled on a Turkish restaurant; surprisingly good food for everyone.

We then drove out to Windsor to see the castle and meander through the shopping district. Mom and Brenda bought some last minute treasures from an antique store. By then it was time for hotel check in, wine time, dinner and bed.

My folks are now on a plane to home and we’re spending today getting prepared to make our Chunnel crossing tomorrow morning.

British Museum

Windsor with the castle in background.

“The Long Walk”, the view from the front of the Castle.

Church in downtown Windsor.

On Saturday morning, we awoke and walked back into downtown Canterbury to find that local folks were setting up for a farmer’s market, covering the length of the pedestrian section of town. Mom managed to find a porcelain rabbit that she’ll be taking home. I bought fudge and apple juice for the crew.

Two angry people – you’ld never think we’re having the times of our lives.

Checking out the floral offerings at the Saturday morning market.

Walking back to our hotel.

We then drove to Westerham, the home of Chartwell – Winston Churchill’s home and base from 1924 until he died in 1965. To me, this was one of the most anticipated locations of the entire trip, and we were not disappointed. We spent most of the day there and caught a quick lunch before departing.

Chartwell

Touring the grounds.

That afternoon we watched a number of demonstrations by the Home Guard – a WWI doughboy group showing how quickly they did machine gun installations, how to properly attack targets with bayonets, how to dress wounds & etc.

Late in the afternoon, we drove to Brighton, the beach town on the southern coast – even though it was cold and windy and constantly threatening to rain, the place was crowded. So much so, that after a quick walk to the pier, we decided to leave because it was just too chaotic for any of us to have any fun.

Josie showing her ninja skills in Brighton.

Cold, wet & windy. Still, there are kids getting buried in the rocks (no sand here) on the beach, while others play cricket. People are laying out, even though there is no sun.

We then drove to our hotel, caught a quick dinner via room service and hit the sack.

A bit of a rough start this morning. After a full English breakfast at the hotel where we are staying in Canterbury, we prepared for a full day of fun. I got out to the car to load some items, and tried to start the car to warm it up. The engine would not start – the battery was dead. No one was around the help jump start the car, and after a series of panicked calls, I learned that the British Auto insurance that I had signed up for included full roadside service as part of the policy for free. After about a 45 minute wait, someone arrived and not only jump started the car, but did some diagnostics on it to help isolate the root cause of the problem.

In the end, we don’t quite know what caused the problem, but the most likely problem (since I cannot find anything/anyone else to blame) was that I left the headlights on during the day after we parked and ran the battery down.
We finally left, fully charged but a bit more nervous about our situation around 10:00 and the day just improved by leaps and bounds afterwards.

We did purchase a second battery as backup “just in case” we run into future problems. Otherwise, the car performed marvelously, which improved everyone’s mood as the day progressed.

We drove to Dover and spent most of the day at Dover Castle – our first visit there – and a real highlight of our trip. The castle was first built just after 1066 and was really filled out by William the Conqueror’s grandson, Henry II in the 1100’s. It is the largest castle in all of England and was a wonderful place to visit. It has been used as a fort over the past 1000 years, and was also a strategic site during WWII, where the British positioned a number of anti aircraft guns and battalions. On the site was a 20 minute tour of underground passages that served as a field hospital from 1941-1945 – completely untouched and authentic, left abandoned just after the war and recently restored for tours.

View from the castle to downtown Dover

In the great dining hall of the Keep, set up to simulate conditions during Henry II’s reign.

Several hundred years later… canons set to defend the coast against the French.

Windy! It wasn’t cold, it wasn’t wet, but the wind up on that bluff overlooking the English channel knocked us about a bit.

The church on the left was first built around 1000. The lighthouse on the right (built by the Romans around the time of the death of Jesus) was almost 1000 years old when the church was built.

Did we mention it was really, really windy?

(Brenda’s note:)  It was by far the best castle we’ve ever seen.  The inside has an ingenious floor plan with these huge intersecting spiral staircases.  It looks just like being inside the Xbox game Oblivion (or Skyrim) and the kids had a fantastic time exploring it.  I told Adam today that if I ever became a billionaire, I’d have it reproduced (with well-hidden modern amenities, like running water, heat, plumbing, etc.) complete with moat.  I don’t recall Dover Castle having a moat, but if I were creating my fantasy castle, I’d definitely add one.  Then I’d put swans on it.

We then drove to a position to show my folks the White Cliffs of Dover – we didn’t spend much time there – it was extremely windy (20-30mph winds) and a bit dangerous trying to walk on the narrow path along the cliffs – but my folks got to see what all the fuss was about, and I broke off a bit of the cliff to give to my mom to take home as a reminder.

Afterwards, we returned to Canterbury for wine time, some late afternoon shopping at a Scottish cashmere store, a nice curry dinner and hot chocolate for dessert. Off to bed!

Proof that the mythical car actually exists!

It’s here and delivered. We’ll take this out to Canterbury tomorrow.

It is NOT done, so to speak, but done enough for us to use over the next couple of weeks. The critical functions have been finished, but there is MUCH in the cosmetic and detail portions that still either need to be installed, swapped out, or fixed before the car will make the boat ride to Georgia.

Too much to write now.. but there will be a punch list of items to get sorted out. The most immediate/obvious issue now is that the doors don’t work/lock properly. We currently can’t even get the rear passenger side door to open. The car did pass MOT and was taxed in the UK and fully licensed with insurance & etc. The builder focused on getting the engine and transmission right, so we have as much confidence as is reasonable that the thing will run and get us where we need to be.

The exterior is basically done, but the interior is still pretty rough, but serviceable. I’m thrilled that we finally have it and am eager to get some miles under our belts, even if it is under rough conditions. Once we get done traveling about in Europe, we’ll return the car to Hartlepool, and Colin will finish all of the items.
Wish us luck!

CANTERBURY:

Yesterday we left London and drove about an hour and a half east through the Kent region to Canterbury. That will be our home-base for the next two nights while we explore all over the area.

Our first stop was downtown Canterbury. We had lunch at a small tea room that Brenda fell in love with on our first trip here. After that, we headed for the Cathedral. Brenda and the little girls split off and went window shopping, while the rest of us toured the old building.

After that, we did more shopping, walking and eating until it was bed time. Canterbury is a fairly small town, and everything is within walking distance of our hotel, making small and desultory trips possible even with 7 people involved.

John, Elaine and Holden in front of Canterbury Cathedral

Inside Canterbury Cathedral

Right outside the entrance gates.

Downtown Canterbury

Playing around in the ruins one of the first three Normal castles built, right around 1070 by William the Conqueror. The walls are made of flint.

Back at the hotel for rest and iPad time.

Adam:  Yesterday we made the drive from Sheffield down to London, arriving in the afternoon and getting settled in our 2-bedroom flat for the next 4 evenings. We caught some lunch, then hit the grocery story for fruit, cereal and wine.

This morning, after breakfast at Starbucks, we walked over to the Natural History museum. After lunch I got the text that my folks had arrived at their hotel room. We quickly finished lunch and headed over to meet up with them and plan our afternoon.

Brenda:  Well, this vacation has certainly been beset with hardships. Last night at 3:30 a.m. Josie started throwing up. She broke my heart a little when she finished heaving into a garbage can and selflessly said, “I’m sorry, Mama. I know how much you hate puke.” She’s such a little gem! Just like her older sister! We’re just not catching any breaks with poor Josie. She was up most of the night (and so were we) but by 8:00 a.m. when we left the hotel, she seemed fine. Such are the recuperative powers of a 7 year old. We made her travel with a plastic puke bag on her lap, but she’s been more or less fine since. Now we’re just waiting to see if the illness hits anyone else. First lice, now gastroenteritis. In addition to our car not being ready, we feel like we’ve gotten bad luck out of the way early and are looking forward to smooth sailing in the next few weeks. That’s the way Karma works, right?

Today we made it into London, and the hotel we’ll stay in for the next 4 days. It’s a 2 bedroom apartment (with full kitchen) so we have a bit more room. If anyone else gets sick, this is a decent place to do it. We can stock up on things like fruit and we have the ability to cook rice, etc. if we need to, and we’re in one place for several days. I think we’re all ready to get out of the car for awhile. Colin is supposed to meet us here tomorrow and give us our forever car, so we’ll see … I am very skeptical that he’ll be on time. He’s one of those perfectionists who can never let a project go. Perfectionism is an admirable trait, but at some point it becomes a liability.

Randy, I will look at the stuff you sent on Maurice Duchamp (for the rest of you, the artist who was the infamous urinal signer), but we don’t have internet right now (as I type) so I’ll have to look at it later. I suspect you are correct, though, and that his art would have made a lot more sense (and been a bigger statement) during the time it was executed … although I might argue that “true” art has a timeless quality and needs not be confined to the social climate in which it was created. I can’t make that argument, though, without being able to see the link you referenced. It’s a spirited debate for another time! I really REALLY enjoy reading what you have to say, since almost nobody else I know likes to discuss art with me. I will say that the Tate in Liverpool, for all the things I did not like, had a couple pieces that blew me away … one was an early Jackson Pollack (stunning!), and the other was a painting Edouard Manet did as a throw-away study for a sculpture he did several years later. I spied it from across the room and made a bee-line, before I even knew it was a Manet. The artists who have “It!” have “It!” without a doubt. Spectacular. It was worth slogging through the shite just to see those two pieces, for absolute certain.

In light of Josie’s stomach and the fairly long drive into London, we didn’t do much of anything today aside from chores. We checked into our hotel, had a nice lunch in a Spanish restaurant that was willing to fix Josie a fruit plate off-menu (because of her delicate tummy), and went to a little grocery store for fruit and breakfast cereal for tomorrow morning, and a bottle of wine for tonight. I bought a medieval wine goblet — hand-thrown from Northumbrian clay — in Sherwood Forest and I need to “give it a go” as they say here. After last night, Adam and I both could use a glass (or three) of wine.

Later:  My Northumbrian goblet has turned out to be a genius of design … perfect for tepid wine, cold water, and hot tea. I imagine it would also serve well for mulled wine, beer, mead, ale, and any other beverage people would have liked to imbibe. Good design withstands the ages.

At the Natural History Museum

Fossils

We decided to take the underground to Westminster station. After walking around Big Ben and the Parliament buildings, we spent the majority of the afternoon at Westminster Abbey.

My, but Big Ben goes on up a long way, well beyond the range of my 50mm lens!

Afterwards, we walked by Buckingham Palace, caught dinner at a local Pub in Victoria neighborhood, and then returned to our flat for wine time.

St. James’ park, in front of Buckingham Palace

Grandpa, Grandma, and one happy Josie.

Mom and Dad are flat out “shatted” now (they were real troopers spending the afternoon wandering around London after an afternoon flight (talk about culture shock)) and so we’ll catch up with them tomorrow morning for another full day of fun that will try their patience and endurance to the limits!

Weather is behaving brilliantly!

Saturday morning was calm and pleasant – we only have a short drive planned today to Sheffield, and since it was Saturday and we’ve now been on the road for a week, it was a good time to recharge batteries (both literally and figuratively), re-pack duffel bags and suitcases, clean up camera lenses and electronic toys & etc. Everyone slept in and I had a chance to take care of some work emails while enjoying morning coffee. The kids are currently watching Saturday morning cartoons.

Leaving Liverpool, we drove through Manchester and over a mountain range into Sheffield. We then headed south to find Sherwood Forest, the stomping grounds of Robin Hood.

Kids in front of the Major Oak, some 1150+ years old and thought to be one of the hideouts of Robin Hood.

My new waterproof The North Face coat that is now my very favorite. Oh, and also Holden posing in one of the oldest forests left in the world.

Typical texture of these old oaks.. most of Sherwood Forest was cut down in the Middle Ages.. it took almost 2000 old growth oaks from these forests to make one galleon.
During the times of Robin Hood (1080-1120ish) there was more than 100,000 acres. Now, only about 1,000 acres remain.

Many of the old oaks are dying from disease, which kills them from the inside out.

Ancient village of Edwinstowe, first appearing in texts in 633.

St. Mary’s church. This building is actually the second built on this site. This one was completed in 1185. It is reputed to be the church where Robin Hood married Maid Marian.

After a wonderful full English breakfast at the B&B in Ulverston, we loaded up and headed south to Liverpool.

We got in about noon and headed down to the waterfront. Over the past 10 years, they have refurbished this formerly run-down dockside/quay and have installed all sorts of museums, shops and things to attract tourists.

The weather did not behave today, however.. most of the time it spat down on us, but the malls and attractions were all designed with overhangs and roofs between structures – I get the feeling this place gets a lot of rain.

Liverpool is kind of disappointing.  It’s more modern-looking than other cities we’ve seen in England, so not nearly as many of the cool old buildings.  The residential areas look run-down and rough.  We spent most of the day at Liverpool One, their big new shopping mall area/museum area.

Ferry ‘Cross the Mersey….

We ate lunch in the mall, and stumbled onto a The North Face store.  The North Face is the brand of clothes we loaded up on in REI before we left, and have been a huge saving grace on this trip.  We don’t have laundry facilities and don’t want to waste entire days figuring out how to find and use laundromats, so we bought a bunch of clothes that can be washed in a sink and will dry overnight.  They are lightweight, warm, and wrinkle-free.  Best clothes ever.  So, we stopped at that store to get Isabella one more pair of pants (they only had one pair in her size at REI back home) and I ended up buying a new rain jacket.  The white jacket I’ve been wearing in every photo sent out is my favorite coat, but made of cotton and absorbs water like crazy.  Since it’s been raining so much, I’ve been continually damp.  Having a waterproof coat will be such a luxury!

Near The North Face store in Liverpool One

We next visited the Tate Museum, the only one in the area with free entry.  It was also quite disappointing.  The two floors of paintings I was most interested in seeing (Monet, Turner, Twombly) were closed for maintenance, so we were left with the remaining two floors of sculptures and modern art.  We are not fans.

This was the period of time when it became acceptable to put out any old garbage and call it art.  Literally.  One of the exhibits was a lucite box filled with garbage the artist found on the street of some city.  I can’t even remember which city, but the name of the piece was something like “Portrait of Liverpool [or wherever].”  There was a lofty explanation of the piece next to the box of garbage about how it shows modern life and it’s consumerism nature, blah blah.  It looked more to me like the artist got nabbed for drunk & disorderly and got sentenced to picking up trash for community service, and then decided to make the best of an unfortunate situation.

Another exhibit was a urinal another artist had signed his name on with a Sharpie.  Art!  A door standing in the middle of a room .. art!  A rope hanging off the ceiling … art!  Come on.  Yoko Ono had a piece, too.  It was a pile of triangular prisms with a light shining on it from below.  She called it something like “Castle of Light in the Sky” — but it wasn’t any different than a typical display of fake diamonds jewelers put in their shop windows to attract peoples’ eyes with shiny objects.  I don’t know what got into people in the 60s.  Maybe too many drugs, for an entire generation of people to think that mundane stuff was worthy of calling art.

I am not very impressed with Andy.

Isabella participating in an active, kids effort at modern art.

Poor Holden, in a state of perpetual boredom while he waits for his sisters to poke through yet another shop.

It was still raining when we left the Tate, so we had a Starbucks hot chocolate and headed to our hotel.  This is one of the best set-ups we’ve had in a hotel so far — two whole rooms, with the kid in one and Adam and I get our own room!  It’s cold as can be though.  It’s in an old Victorian house that oozes charm, but none of the heating works.  There also isn’t any hot water in the sinks, which makes for a rather bracing face wash.

Starbucks hot chocolate — good to the last drop.

Adam talked to Colin yesterday afternoon and Colin promises our car is almost ready.  Today we’re driving down to the Sherwood Forest/Nottingham area and Colin is going to meet us somewhere down there for a car swap.  We still have to work out the details and not sure if that will take place today or tomorrow (we’re guessing tomorrow) but looking forward to getting our own car.  It will be a relief to have all that mess finally sorted out.

We left York in the morning and made the trip back up to Hartlepool where the Land Rover restoration shop is located.

Our car is not yet ready to turn over to us, so as a partial consolation for this considerable inconvenience, they loaned us a smaller Defender 90 to use in the interim.

The most excitement yesterday was then driving up from Hartlepool to the Newcastle airport, where we had to return the rental car we first picked up at Heathrow. With two cars, means we needed two drivers. Brenda got her first experience driving in England, not only on the wrong side of the road, but using a stick shift. She was quite nervous about the process, but all went well and we successfully turned over the rental, shifted all of the gear and crew into the Land Rover and we were off to more adventures.

We decided to spend the afternoon and evening in Newcastle and had a chance to see the town, the waterfront along the River Tyne, and the ancient gate keep and tower, first constructed by William the Conqueror’s son.

I tried to get economical with the hotel- I found a hostel that would take the five of us for under $100 a night, breakfast included.  The place was clean but European small.  We all had bunk beds and had to stay in them because there wasn’t enough floor space to accommodate more than 2 at a time. It was fun in a new, unpleasant kind of way which makes for great stories and memories but not in a desire to repeat.

In general, the kids just love any form of hardship – anything out of ordinary is terribly entertaining and they seem to draw energy for it, which keeps the adult spirits up as well.

Restaurant where we had dinner, and finally convinced Isabella of the value of Indian food. We had to drag her in, and afterwards she wants to eat Indian every night.

Isabella and Holden were playing Ninjas, walking along the castle’s walls.

Haggis! We’re close enough to Scotland to affect their food choices. I ordered this as an appetizer (Haggis balls in red sauce) and could not get anyone else to join in with me. Not bad, but not something I will seek out other than to gross out my kids.

Brenda’s writing:  I have given up on the stupid blog. I spent so much time fighting the formatting and trying to upload pictures that I wasn’t getting any writing done, and several times I just lost HOURS worth of work because the internet timed out on me. Experiment fail — maybe I’ll put it together once I get home, but for now I’ll just do the writing in email and Adam can send selected pictures when we have chances. [edit: August and back at home, this is exactly what I did.]

Adam already mentioned that I had to drive the rental car (Puke Mobile) from Hartlepool to Newcastle, which is about an hour drive. I was terrified about doing this, mostly because the car was a stick shift. I’ve never been skilled at stick shift, and the last time I drove one at all was more than 12 years ago. So, facing an unfamiliar car, with everything on the wrong side AND having to navigate new and unfamiliar road configurations, had me developing ulcers. The roads aren’t even simple mirror images of American roads, either … they have these weird roundabouts and no traffic lights, so the traffic rules are unfamiliar as well.

As we left Colin’s parking lot, I managed to kill the engine three times in about 30 seconds. As it turns out, I was missing 1st gear and trying to start directly from 3rd, which made a horrible grinding noise and then stalled out the engine. One of Colin’s guys was in the parking lot wincing and I wanted to open the window and explain myself (“I haven’t driven a stick in 12 years, and now everything is on the wrong side! I’m not normally this inept!”) but I couldn’t find the window button.

I did manage to get the hang of it, though. During some of the more stressful maneuvers, like stopping and starting, my instincts would kick in and I’d start grabbing levers with my right hand, which in this particular car happened to be the windshield wiper control. What’s worse than not being able to find the correct gear? Having the windshield wipers suddenly start flapping back and forth when it’s not raining. Chaos. I somehow turned on the rear window’s wiper, too, and never did figure out how to turn it off. I decided to ignore it and it wiped all the way to Newcastle airport.

But, all’s well that ends well. Mission accomplished!

When Colin showed us the the Land Rover he had to lend us for the next few days, he mentioned it was “a bit rougher than your car” and “more of an agricultural vehicle” meant for hauling a horse trailer. He wasn’t kidding. It sounds exactly like a tractor when you turn it on and it’s so loud it’s virtually impossible to have a conversation while driving. The windows have hand cranks to open and close, and that old style windshield wiper that stops in whatever position it happens to be in when you hit the off switch. You’re likely to have it stop right in your line of sight. I vaguely remember my dad’s old Bronco having windshield wipers like that, back in the early 1970s. I’d forgotten they even existed. But in spite of all these sins, this car smells like horses and Christmas-tree-shaped air freshener instead of puke, so I’m in love with it.

The back has two bench seats and not much room, so the kids are really cramped back there. The luggage is piled up in the middle, which makes a nice barrier between Kid #1 and Kids #2 & #3, but every time we take a corner the backpacks avalanche down on either side and smack the kids in the head. Depending on which way the turn is, either one kid is laughing hysterically at the other two getting buried, or two of them are hee-hawing at the unfortunate one. It’s causing more than a few fights, so I’ll be glad to get our Land Rover, which is a whole lot bigger. It won’t necessarily solve the fighting problem, but it will at least solve the fighting over luggage problem.

Adam’s writing:  After breakfast, we loaded up and headed off to the west into the wilds of Northumbria. This is beautiful countryside, and we are enjoying staying off the highways and taking the windier paths that meander through one village after another.

Today we took a long hike up to see a portion of Hadrian’s Wall– something I’ve wanted to see in person since I read about it as a kid. The weather behaved and we had a great time treading through cow and sheep pastures, treading around cow and sheep pies, and walking along a portion of the wall. It still looks great and unchanged almost 1900 years after it was first constructed by the Romans.

After the hike, a nice lunch in a small pub, and then we made the drive North into Scotland, stopping at Edinburgh for the next two nights.

Our loaner vehicle over the next few days.

Gorgeous countryside at every turn.

None of which the kids can see, cramped into the back of the car.

A portion of the wall near Hexham, Northumbria. We took off into the fields and made our hike.

Isabella, standing on a portion of Hadrian’s Wall.

Steep and dangerous climb to the top, just the kind of excitement the kids love.

Holden taking a break.

View into the valley below.

Kids doing what kids do best; enjoying every moment of freedom that comes their way.

On the way back down. This was a much steeper, more dangerous climb than you’d guess by looking at the photos. This made for two nervous parents and three kids who didn’t have enough sense to be worried about anything.

After leaving the horse trials, we headed to nearby York for lunch and to find our hotel.  We stopped in a little pub, hoping for a fantastic rustic meal … the best meal we had on our Christmas trip was in a  little pub near Avebury.  Anyway, we went in and sat down in a small room that contained three young children with no adults in sight.   Adam went off to find the barkeep to see if they were serving food.

The little girl, who was probably around 7 years old, gave us a dirty look and said, “What are you doing here?!”  (You have to imagine their English accents, which Isabella pointed out made it ten times funnier.)  Her little brother said to her, “You’re not supposed to say that to people.  It’s rude.  You’re being rude.”

“No, you’re being rude!” she hollered at him.

“No, you’re being rude!” he hollered back.

“What you are, is poopy!  You’re poopy!” (pooh-pay!)

“I’m not poopy, you’re poopy!”

Then the girl pointed straight at Josie (sweet little silent Josie, who hadn’t uttered a single word since we sat down) and screeched, “No, YOU’RE POOPY! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO’S POOPY!”

Just then Adam came back into the room and said, “They’re only serving what’s left of the buffet.  You want to go somewhere else?”

The rest of us were getting up to leave before he even finished speaking.  “Gladly.”

We walked a little further and found a really neat old area of York, full of restaurants and shops.  We found a very nice little tea shop and had lunch there instead.

Shopping street in York.

One of the most interesting shops was this bookstore:

Josie, never missing the word “farts”.

Bookstore with very interesting titles on display.

The title “Farts: A Spotters Guide” caught Josie’s eye, so we had to stop and inspect the window.  Some of the other titles are, “Is Your Cat Gay?”, “Dawn of the Bunny Suicides”, “Crafting with Cat Hair”, “Stuck Up: 100 Objects Inserted and Ingested in Places They Shouldn’t Be”, “Crap Lyrics: A Celebration of the Very Worst Pop Lyrics of All Time … Ever!”, and “Don’ts for Weddings (from 1904)”.

The streets were full of buskers, and a lot of them were flat-out excellent.  There is some real musical talent in this town.

Isabella enjoyed their music enough to put some of her money in their guitar case.

I like the way they think in York!

Apparently York is infested with ghosts.  We saw several (like four or five) different Ghost Walks available for anyone wanting to explore the spookier side of things.  The kids really wanted to do one of the ghost walks, but the earliest ones began at 7:30 p.m. and lasted several hours, and we were afraid the kids would run out of steam that late at night.  It seemed like more of a grown-up activity.

One of several advertised Ghost Walks

Each street is more charming than the next. You could wander around for hours.

Street artist doing caricatures. In the background, you can see a slightly blurry Adam taking a photo of me taking a photo of the artist.

Isabella admiring some silver jewelry

Plenty of old buildings around.

At dinner time, we found a charming little pub that looked promising, but when we got to the door it had a sign on it reading, “No Under 18s Allowed:  Enjoy your beer in peace.”  Josie put both hands on her hips indignantly and said, “Well, what’s that supposed to mean!?”  Isabella said, “It means they don’t want any bratty little kids in there yelling ‘You’re poopy!’ at people.”  Adam cracked up and said, “That’s EXACTLY what that means.”

We now have a handy shorthand for our kids.  Instead of saying, “You are behaving poorly in public, thereby bringing shame upon your countrymen and upon our family.  Improve yourself at once!” we can just make meaningful eye contact with the offending kid and hiss in an English accent, “You’re poopy.“

It’s amazing to me just how fragile the human body really is.  All it takes to make a person feel on the verge of death is a couple rotten sleepless nights and a 5 hour time zone discrepancy.  Conversely, all it takes to completely restore a person is a nice meal or two and a couple good nights of sleep.

We started out on a definite high note.  We needed to take a taxi to the airport so our car wouldn’t sit in long-term parking for 5 weeks, and it turns out renting a limo is just about the same price.  The kids partied hard all the way to the airport.

Starting our voyage in high style. To the airport!

Josie really knows how to relax in style. She took to limo travel with remarkable ease.

Our flight from Atlanta to London went as perfectly as flights can possibly go, but it was an overnighter.  We left home at 8:30 p.m. and came into London at 10:30 a.m., feeling as though someone had coated us with a fine mist of grease and then blown a handful of sand in our faces.  We trudged through the airport like zombies and made our way to the shuttle bus that makes the 20 minute drive to the rental car station.

Our car, unfortunately, has the distinct-yet-faint aroma of puke inside. There is nary a stain to be found, but the smell gives us the heebie jeebies each time we open the door.  Under normal circumstances, we probably would have gone back inside and asked for a different car, but we were so tired (and facing another 2 hour drive to our hotel) that we decided to ignore it as best we could, knowing that we’d only have the car for 2 days.
We spent an uneventful night in a town called Doncaster, and all felt much better this morning.  We headed out early for Hartlepool to pick up our Land Rover.  This is a huge deal, more than a year in the making, and Adam has been anticipating it with the eagerness of a kid waiting for Christmas morning.

When we got to Colin’s garage, though, he greeted us with a big rueful smile and said apologetically, “I’m afraid we’ve run into a major problem.  You see, during the final testing yesterday morning the engine blew up.”  He lead us back to see the car, which had been stripped down to the frame — literally.  No body panels, no seats, no dash board, NOTHING.  Just a frame with a disassembled motor in the engine compartment.  Colin explained a whole bunch of stuff and I didn’t understand but a few key phrases here and there:  “oil everywhere” and “gasket” and “stripped it clean down to check the electrical system and so we wouldn’t scratch the new paint job.”  He ended his soliloquy with, “And so finally, last night, I just threw me ‘ands up in the air and says to me man, ‘I’m just going to go home and get drunk!’  But me spirits was so low I just fell asleep in me chair instead.”  His wife, who had been standing beside him the whole time gazing down at the broken engine, nodded her head sadly and said, “It’s true.  He didn’t even have it in ‘im to get drunk.”

The bottom line is that our car isn’t ready.  Colin is lending us a different Land Rover to use for our drive up to Scotland, but we have to wait until Monday when the insurance office opens to take possession of it.  He needs to change the policy to that of a rental vehicle so that we will be insured to drive it.  For Adam, this disappointment is like a kick to the emotional groin.  What it means to me and the kids is that we are stuck with the Puke Mobile until Monday afternoon.

Luckily, on the way to Hartlepool this morning we heard on the radio about the Bramham International Horse Trials.  The lady was talking about all the wonderful things they were going to be doing during this three-day horse competition, which includes a demonstration of English foxhounds doing their thing.  I said to Adam, “Oh, wouldn’t it be fun to see something like that!” and then we drove right by the road sign for Bramham.  Now that we have an extra day to kill in this area, we are going to be able to attend after all.  It will be the first fun thing we’ve been able to do since our arrival.  It looks as though Sunday is the best day to attend, too, since it’s the last.  They are doing their final competitions in all categories and having their award ceremonies.

A word about the weather:  it’s awful.  We’ve been to England now in April, December, and June, and experienced identical weather all three times.  It alternates between three states:  cold, rainy, and windy.  If you’re lucky, it’s just cold, or maybe cold and windy.  Rainy is no fun, and rainy with wind is the worst.  I guess this weather is atypical for summer, as all the locals are complaining about it.

The weather reports here are a bit on the weird side, too.  This morning a TV weather girl said, “Today we should see a bit of sun, if we’re lucky … but I should also mention there may be torrential rains, as well.”  Later, on the radio, a man was interviewing a woman in a caravan park (camp ground for motorhomes, we think) in an area of possible flooding and he asked her, “It’s raining hard, yes?”

“Oh yes,” said the lady, “It’s quite wet.”

Man:  “It’s coming down quite hard, then?”

Lady: “Quite hard, yes.  It’s quite wet.”

Man:  “Are you able to get out of your caravan?”

Lady: “Oh yes.  We can get out.”

Man: “That’s quite good then.  That you can get out.”

On another station, a reporter made the statement, “We were expecting some possible heavy rains last night, but luckily it never happened.  Everything is just fine this morning.”

The key difference, as far as I can tell, between American-style news reporting and English-style news reporting is that if nothing interesting is happening, Americans will make up a story and act as though they have shocking and urgent information to convey anyway.  It’s typical, on slow news days, to hear something like, “Can this common household object kill you?  The answer is YES! … stay tuned to find out what you need to know to keep your family safe!”  Then they will go on to point out something ridiculously obvious (after the commercial break, of course) like that printer toner can kill you if eaten in sufficient quantities.  In England they just go with the non-story.  “We thought it might rain.  It didn’t.”

We did end the day well, with a fantastic Indian meal in nearby Newcastle.  The kids were surprised to find that they actually like authentic Indian food … it’s just my Indian cuisine efforts they hate.

Fantastic Indian restaurant in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne.

Sunday, June 10

Yesterday we had our first day of play in the UK. We’re in Yorkshire, and given a pleasant Sunday afternoon, we decided to hit the Bramham Horse trials that were close by.
This is a 300+ horse dressage competition, our first ever. The kids have never had an opportunity to see so many horses, so close up, at full gallop. We thought of Heidi throughout the day, and wished that she were here to tell us what we should be paying attention to. This is an annual event hosted by some wealthy lord, and takes place on his estate of several tens of thousands of acres.

My oh my, was the tweed out in full force. It is both a horse competition and social event. There were a lot of folks out in the full “English countryside riding clothing” which looked pretty smart, overall. It’s a difficult look to pull off, however, away from the Field & Stream.

The first thing we noticed on our way in was the sheer number of dogs.  Everyone except us, it seemed, brought their dogs.  I’ve never seen so many dogs in one place.  The butt-sniffing going on had a frantic quality, as there were so many butts to sniff and each dog only possessed one nose.

One of the areas was set aside for the “Tailwaggers Club” where anyone who wanted could practice running their dog through a show obstacle course.

Tiny puppy getting his first taste of the obstacle course.

I loved this little dog. She wanted a tidbit so badly she was able to ignore all the dog action going on around her. That’s some focus!

By far the most exciting aspect was the jumping competitions for the horses.  They had two going: one was in an arena where the horses jump over railings in an obstacle course.

Arena jumping competition.

The other, and most exciting, was a speed jumping competition.  (These things all have official names, but I have no idea what they are.)  They had a course set out with ropes that was probably several miles long, in a big circle around the park grounds.  The logs and whatnot the horses were expected to jump were huge, and the horses were going top speed.  People were allowed to stand right next to the ropes.  You could feel the ground thundering underneath your feet as the horses raced by.  It was breathtaking.  I’ve never been that close to a horse running all-out and it’s an impressive thing.  Those animals have a tremendous amount of power.

Example of how close you can get to the running horses. We were standing right next to that white rope.

Adam and Josie walking back from the jumping trials.

They have over 150 vendor booths, selling mostly equestrian themed merchandise.  You can buy anything in the world for your horse or dog needs there, including “bespoke” saddles (custom made), £500 riding hats, and dog food scientifically designed to “reduce flatulent odors.”

I bought a painting at an artist’s booth.  I got to chatting with her husband while he wrapped the painting up for me.  He said they rely on the income they make from selling artwork at the trade shows, and this was the first trade show this year not cancelled due to bad weather.  He was worried about their financial prospects for the year if the weather didn’t get a lot better this summer.  The artist is Diane Hennchen.

And of course I had to buy a painting. First treasure of the trip!

Hot chocolate break.

Englishman, looking all Englishy

Man studying the score boards, doggie studying all the other dogs.