Tom’s Travels

England

April 6, 2012 Dublin, Ireland

Colleen and I got up, packed our bags and headed for the airport. All went well because we timed it just right, getting there with enough time to have a nice breakfast. After a short flight, we landed at Heathrow. Our friends, Mike and Sarah, were getting married the next day and we had been invited. It was our purpose in going to England. Now the problem was to get to the hotel in Epsom. Heathrow is west of the center of London and Epsom is southwest. We were afraid we would have to go all the way into town and then come back again. On the internet, this looked like it would take several metro changes and about an hour and a half. I asked at the information desk at the airport and they gave us instructions on how to accomplish this, requiring two buses and a taxi. He also said we could try Green Tomatoes Cars, which is essentially a taxi service. I called and within ten minutes they were there and a forty minute drive took us right to our hotel. The ride cost 46 pounds (about $70) but it was worth it.
We checked in, got settled in our room, and came back downstairs to the lobby. Lo and behold, there were Joe and Marlene Foley, our friends from Canada who had taught with us both in Prague and in Malaysia. I helped them get their bags out of their car and went back in the lobby. Mike Mohan and several members of his family were checking in. Mike and his bride to be had taught with us in Malaysia, also. In a matter of a few minutes we had found our old friends.
In Malaysia, our school was rather isolated and there were only a few native speakers. We bonded quickly and traveled almost every weekend. We referred to ourselves as the “Great 8”, Mike and Sarah, Joe and Marlene, Julia Kotula (from Poland), Renee Mandleson (from Australia) and Colleen and myself. Mike and Sarah left Malasia first and we became the Super Six. Seven of us had gotten together a couple of years before in Belfast, Northern Ireland where Mike and Sarah now live, when Joe and Marlene made the trip over the water. Only our Australian friend was missing. Now six of us were together again for the wedding of Mike (Irish) and Sarah (English). Julia was at home in Poland spending Easter with her family.
Mike was quite busy and seemed somewhat stressed trying to get everyone introduced and taking care of last-minute details. Joe and Marlene and Colleen and I went to the restaurant next door for coffee and beer and to catch up. There we met Mike’s sisters and brother. That night we had dinner in the same restaurant and met more family and friends. Mike spread himself thin trying to talk to everyone and making sure everyone was having a good time. Sarah came with her family and we got to meet them. I asked Mike where they were going on their honeymoon and he told that they were going to Mauritius for a short holiday. Later on they would take a longer holiday and go to Malaysia and have a Chinese wedding. Sarah’s mother is Malay and her father requested this so their relatives in Malaysia could see them getting married. The meal was good and it was nice to talk to everyone but everyone made it an early evening so we could be fresh in the morning.

April 7, 2012 Epsom, England
The day of the wedding. We had a buffet breakfast at the restaurant and went back to the room to dress. It may have been the first time I had worn a suit since my granddaughter, Emily’s, wedding four years before. Actually, I didn’t wear a suit. The suit pants were too small due to my ever expanding waistline but luckily I had some black pants that fit and matched the suit coat. We checked out of the hotel and road to the church a few miles away with Joe and Marlene who were touring southern England and had rented a car. The car was small and we had luggage piled between the women in the back seat.
The wedding was at St. Giles church, a small but beautiful church that looked like a medieval fortress with gray stone walls and a crenellated bell tower. Sarah’s parents had been married in the same church some years before. When we arrived, guests were standing outside. Mike and his brother, Brian (maybe Bryan), had gone for a short walk through the graveyard, I think to help Mike calm down. Everyone was beautifully dressed. Most of the British women wore what are known as “fascinators”. They are not hats but simply soft material in different shapes worn slightly off-center in the hair. They were not unlike the flowers worn by Tahitian maidens. We were told that it was traditional for women to wear hats to weddings. Evidently, fascinators fulfill this obligation.
The inside of the church was beautiful as well with a carved wooden ceiling and ornately carved marble throughout. It is amazing the amount of quality craftsmanship I have seen in the churches I have visited. During every age, the best work seems to always be in the churches. There was a long central nave but only one transept on the left side about halfway to the choir. The stained glass windows had feminine figures representing Hope and Faith, etc. Behind us and above, were bell ringers. Real bell ringers, six of them, holding ropes that led to the large bells in the tower. Several times, before the ceremony began, they rang the bells in such a way that a repetitive rhythm was created, almost a melody. Also, before the ceremony, the minister told us what was expected of us and how we were to participate. He also cautioned us that they have a rule in their church. “If a cell phone rings during the ceremony, that person has to pay for the reception” None did.
Mike was seated in the front of the church with his brother. It was a formal wedding and they were wearing gray morning suits with gray ascots. Being a Tennessee boy, I’m not really sure what a morning suit is (or if it is a mourning suit), but they were not tuxes and they had tails. At any rate, they looked very handsome. The music began and the procession entered led by the choir, two men, three women, and a young boy. They were followed by the preacher and then the bridesmaids who wore simple green dresses of soft, flowing material. Next came a beautiful little red-headed flower girl. Sarah was last and she looked stunning as all brides do. She wore a lovely, strapless white gown with a long train that trailed behind. At the end of the train, the seamstress had brocaded a white rose that matched the white roses on her dress. She looked absolutely beautiful.
The ceremony was fairly simple and not too long but very touching. Afterward, Mike and Sarah stood outside in front of the church giving everyone an opportunity to take pictures, many of which I have since seen on Facebook. Joe and Marlene took us to the reception, about twenty miles away, with the help of Samantha, his GPS. The reception was at Gorsehill, an old estate of three buildings converted to a hotel and specializing in handling events such as this. Only one man was handling check-in but the bar was lined up with some kind of fruity looking drink that everyone seemed to enjoy while we were waiting. They told me the name and said that there were alcoholic, however, three of them didn’t seem to faze me. In the lobby, one table had finger food, sandwiches, etc. Another table was labeled the “candy bar” and featured jars of different assorted hand candies, each with a name on the jar. The little tables next to the chairs had bowls of chocolate goodies similar to M&M’s. Everyone sat around and visited and partook while we waited. No one seemed distressed by the wait. When we went to our room, Colleen noticed in the hallway several paintings by Nell Revel Smith, a painter who hails from someplace in northern Michigan near where Colleen lives.
The evening began with a sit-down dinner. Each table was named for a city in Japan, which is where Mike and Sarah had met, and everyone had a place card with their name on it. The cards were in the shape of hearts and we found out later that the paper had seeds embedded in it which you could plant and grow wildflowers. A clever idea. It was a very fancy meal in several courses with lots of champagne and wine. Everyone was seated and then Mike and Sarah were introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Mohan as they entered. Before the meal, there were speeches beginning with the father of the Bride, David Eggett, followed by the Best Man, Brian Mohan and finally, the Groom, Mike. The speeches were well done and covered a wide range of emotions. Mike thanked everyone for coming. He mentioned most by name and how far they had traveled to be there. He pointed out that the attendees had come from every continent except Antarctica. Pretty amazing. At the end of each speech, the speaker asked us to “be upstanding” and raise our glasses in a toast. Though I had never heard the expression used in that context, I followed everyone’s lead and stood up to toast the Bride and Groom.
After the dinner, there was dancing to a four piece band, which played a little bit of everything, including, of course, the Irish songs we had heard in Dublin. It was a good group and everyone danced and drank the night away. After a few drinks, Mike even took the microphone and sang a song. Mike and Sarah tried to get around and talk to everyone but it was really impossible. Though I would like to have had more time with them, I know they did their best. They sure know how to throw a reception.

April 8, 2012, Gorsehill, England

Easter Sunday Morning. We were treated to what Mike referred to as an “Ulster Breakfast”, and quite a spread it was. Eggs, scrambled or fried, sausage, ham, baked beans, toast, croissants, cooked tomatoes, mushrooms, and an assortment of condiments. The condiments included the best butter I have ever put in my mouth. Evidently, in the UK, baked beans are a staple for breakfast. After an Irish breakfast, you don’t need lunch. Mike and Sarah came around and spoke to everyone again thanking us for coming. After breakfast, we wandered outside into the garden, an English garden, carefully organized with lots of flowers and shrubs. The hotel had hidden Easter eggs for the children and the little ones were having a wonderful time looking for them. Sarah threw her bouquet from the balcony of their room over the terrace. I don’t think anyone caught it as everyone was already married. It was picked off the terrace by the youngest female there, a lovely little four year old. Goodbyes were said and a final round of pictures made. It was a wonderful wedding and we were sad to leave.
Joe and Marlene had told us they were going to the coast. We assumed they were going due south so we asked them to drop us at the train station so we could get a train to Bath. As it turned out, they were heading east and offered to take us directly to Bath as it was on their way. We gratefully accepted and packed up the car. We drove through the rolling hills of English countryside along the way. They dropped us off in Bath near the tourist office and said brief goodbyes. It was good to see them. They’re good people and it’s interesting to note that we have been with them on two continents and in four countries.
The tourist office, which, thankfully, was open on Easter Sunday, was very helpful and found us lodging at Villa Magdala, a short walk from the center. Villa Magdala is great and the people there were very nice and very helpful. They gave us coffee and cake while we waited to be checked in. We walked back into town past long rows of Victorian Townhouses, all attached, four stories high with four chimneys atop each one, one chimney for each fireplace. We strolled along the River Avon, which runs through town and then wandered past the Roman Baths and the Bath Abbey. I did some souvenir shopping. Bath is a beautiful town and has been inhabited since Roman times (hence the Roman Baths). It features thermal baths and became very popular during the Victorian Era (hence the Victorian architecture). It’s a nice place to visit and I highly recommend it.

April 9, 2012, Bath, England

We went to the tourist office and booked a tour to Stonehenge on Wednesday, then to Bath Abbey next door. The Abbey is actually a large church, an abbey because it is overseen by an abbot. The Abbey is an imposing structure which has been hemmed in by the growth of the city around it. It is immediately adjacent to the Roman Baths, which makes me think that it was constructed on a former Roman religious site. It’s a typical Gothic church with Flying buttresses and gargoyles. Every surface is decorated in some way. There are no smooth surfaces. Inside there is the normal nave, transept and choir. Tall pillars reach up and fan out at the arched ceiling like the wires underneath an umbrella, but much more intricate and delicate. It reminded me of a very complex spider web. Stained glass windows fill the walls. Along one wall, there is a beautiful exhibit of bitychs depicting the life of Christ. On the left side of each bitych is the story of Christ written in beautiful calligraphy and on the right, a textile collage to reflect the feeling of the writing. Memorials line the walls and the floor is filled with tombs. A priest told me that, at one time, there were over 3,000 bodies buried in the floor. Some were moved when they began to smell. The pulpit is beautifully carved wood supported by carved saints or apostles. I’ve never understood why the pulpit is not in the front but rather halfway in the nave and usually on the left. Maybe it’s so the people in the back row can hear the sermon, but that means that the people in the front have their backs to the speaker and can’t see him. There are carved wooden seats for the choir, while the congregation sits on wooden benches. The priest also told me that an American Senator had died in Bath in 1804 and was buried in the church. He showed me the tomb which has an American flag over it, hanging from the ceiling.
The windows in the Abbey are very interesting. Some depict religious themes, some are coats-of arms, some show medieval knights, some honor countries, and some represent virtues, such as Love, Hope, and Charity. One of the largest is the “Jesse” window, which depicts the lineage of Jesus Chris. At one point, the priest asked everyone to take a moment to pray silently for those in need and then he lead us in the Lord’s Prayer.
I asked the priest why, if an abbey was the seat of an abbey, Downton Abbey (the TV show) was a private home. He explained that in 1539, Henry VIII, in conflict with the Pope, dissolved all monasteries and confiscated all lands belonging to the church. He then sold them into private hands to raise money.
In the afternoon, we went to the Roman baths. The baths are immediately adjacent to the Abbey in the heart of town and they are magnificent. They consist of what remains of a huge complex that included a theater and temples and dates back to, at least, 76AD. The baths are located over warm mineral springs which constantly bring hot water to the baths and were considered to have healing powers. You enter at street level and find yourself on a balcony overlooking a large pool below, with steam slowly rising above it. On the railing overlooking the pool, there are twelve life-sized statues of emperors or governors of the day including Caesar and Hadrian.
The Roman name for Bath was Aquae Sulis, Aquae meaning water and Sulis being a Celtic goddess, the equivalent of the Roman Minerva. The city was founded because of the warm springs. The water in the pool is not clear but a cloudy green. The building is various shades of ocher and has a warm comforting feel. We strolled around the pool admiring the statuary and the view of the Abbey next door. We went back inside and descended to pool level. At the base of the staircase, mounted on the wall was the pediment from the original building with a mixture of Roman and Celtic symbolism. In the center was the fierce looking face of a man with snakes in his beard. The audio guide explained that this might represent a Gorgon, of whom Medusa is the most famous. But the Gorgons were female and, thus, this might be Neptune. Or it might have been a Celtic deity that has slipped in the shadows of history. Other symbols in the pediment, a helmet and an owl, represent Minerva, the Goddess of Wisdom to whom the temple was dedicated. There was also a scale model replica of the original structures, most of which have now disappeared, but which covered a large area and included several buildings enclosed within a wall surrounding the entire complex. Originally, the baths were enclosed in a building with a very high roof.
Throughout the baths, there were artifacts from the site; statues, items of brass or copper, steles, some built by slaves and dedicated to the masters. The waters were thought to be sacred and believers made a wish and tossed coins into the pools. Over 13,000 coins from all over the ancient world have been taken from the waters. The most interesting items were small pieces of tin or lead bearing requests or curses. “May my son be a boy.” “May the person who stole my pig suffer a horrible death.” “May the person who stole two gold coins live a be inflicted with a terrible disease.” Some were very petty but very funny. There were several baths of various temperatures so you had a choice as to which would be the most healing or give you the most pleasure. There was even a cold bath to help you cool off and a room in which you could get a massage. The men and women bathed together until the custom was forbidden by Hadrian.
I talked to a lady in Roman costume with hair piled 8 or 10 inches high on her head. Obviously, she was a very rich, high born Roman and explained that her hair was real and was from India and styled in the latest fashion of the day. She explained about her clothes and her jewelry and pointed out that her slave, also dressed appropriately, was showing a tourist the items a lady would use for make-up and for cures. The woman told me that frankincense and myrrh were tree saps used for cures and were considered very valuable in the Roman world. She played her role as an informative but flirtatious lady well and asked if I were coming to the banquet that night. I assured her that I was and that I hoped to see her there.
The baths were fascinating. It is always interesting to see something built by man that has lasted 2,000 years. I wonder if anything built in our time will last as long.
That night, we ate at an Indian restaurant, Rajpoor. We were seated in the bar where we ordered a beer, looked at the menu, and ordered our dinner. Shortly, we were shown to our table where our appetizers were waiting for us. I wasn’t sure what we had or exactly how to eat it. I wished that Sima or Ratna, our Hindu friends, were there to help us. There was some sort of salad, a bowl of stewed tomatoes, papadam, which I had had before, a type of chip to scoop up the other items, and something that tasted like chutney that was delicious. Our main course was Tandori Thali, a mixture of rice, veggies, and meat with a side of nan. The meal was delicious but a little pricey.
We learned that Bath was bombed three times during the Second World War, in what were called the “Baedeker Raids”. Baedeker is a German (I think) guidebook that is still popular today. The raids were in retaliation for British bombings of beautiful German towns which had no military significance. Bath had no military significance either so the Germans must have reasoned that if they were going to lose part of their cultural heritage, the British would do so also.

April 10, 2012, Bath, England

Another full English breakfast at the Villa Magdala, very good but very filling. We had no plans for the day as the Stonehenge tour was not until the next day. We decided to rent a car just to get out of town and visit the area called the Cotswolds, but that didn’t work either as all the cars were already rented or too expensive. I was somewhat relieved as I didn’t relish driving on the “wrong” side of the road. Amanda and Kim at the Villa were very helpful and suggested we take the bus to Wells and see the Cathedral. But first, we had to move because the Villa Magdala was booked. We went to The Windsor, one of the Victorian row houses that had been converted into hotels. Unfortunately, the row houses don’t have elevators and they had given us a room on the third floor. We had to carry our luggage up three flights of very steep, narrow stairs. Not good for my knees. Each room in the hotel has a name: Abbey, Orchard, Walcot, Charlotte, Crescent, Henrietta, Victoria, etc. There seemed to be no logic to the choice of names. We headed to the bus station and bought one “Family ticket” for 10 Pounds. This entitled us to a round trip for both of us at any time of day and we could get off and on the bus as often as we liked along the way. What a deal! Wells is actually in Somerset, but today, as far as we were concerned, Wells was in the Cotswolds.
The ride was lovely. We climbed out of Bath and rode through the countryside of rolling hills and quaint villages. Large fields, plowed or green, stone walls and stone houses, fields of bright, yellow rape seed used to make cooking oils, and flowers, lots of flowers. We went up and down hills along narrow roads and saw flocks of chocolate brown sheep with black faces.
In olden days, Wells Cathedral was more important than Bath Abbey as it was the seat of a Bishop whereas, Bath had only an Abbot. Today, the city of Bath is a popular tourist site and thousands visit Bath Abbey while Wells Cathedral is a hidden jewel. Wells, the city, is smaller than Bath, but it is a “city” because it has a Royal charter. I was unprepared for the Cathedral, a huge, imposing square structure with an open space in front so you can actually see the building from a distance. The Cathedral was built between 1175 and 1230 on the site of an ancient Roman building. The facade is Gothic featuring twin, square towers with carved statues everywhere, probably over one hundred statues of various sizes. When I see something like this, as in Brussels, I always wonder if anyone knows who the statues represent, either saints, religious figures or important personages of the time. Who are they? Is there a catalog listing all the names and locations on the facade or have their names and importance been lost in time?
We had a guided tour which was very informative. Our guide, a priest, showed us where the building had been halted and begun again. King John had been excommunicated in 1209 and the churches were closed and sat dormant for several years. When the building began again, advances in technology allowed the masons to use and lift larger stones, thus there is a line in the wall where large stones were placed next to smaller ones. King Henry VIII closed the churches when he broke away from the church in Rome and looted them to raise money for his reign. Brass that was used to decorate the tombs in the floor was taken and sold.
The pulpit was added after the Protestant Reformation because, only when the church broke with Rome and the stylized masses in Latin did preaching became important. The guide pointed out a Chantry Chapel, sponsored by a rich donor who hoped to get prayers to get out of Purgatory. (Purgatory was an idea invented by the church in order to raise money. I believe they have recently stated that Purgatory does not exist.)
The guide showed us what I thought was a coat of arms of some important family. He explained, however, that it was a rebus, very similar to a coat of arms but used to indicate a man’s profession. He also showed us the details at the top of one of the shorter pillars. The four scenes, one on each side, told the story of a thief who stole grapes from a farmer. He was seen by a builder who told the farmer. The last scene shows the farmer hitting the thief. Perhaps it’s true, perhaps it’s imaginary, but, in any case, it took a lot of work to add this small detail which would have been lost in the huge Cathedral if the guide had not pointed it out. How many details like this have I not noticed in the many Churches and Cathedrals I have visited.
The entrance to the choir area features huge scissor like arches that helped support the pillars, pillars that seemed to be many small columns fused together to form one massive column. The arches form a huge “X” as you faced the choir with the figure of Jesus on the cross at the highest point. They look very modern in design but we were assured they were built in 1338. The ceiling has ribbed arches that converge in the center and where they meet there are designs painted that look like stylized flowers. The Cathedral is filled with stain glass windows but many were broken during the civil war and replaced by windows that had no particular design. Attached to the Cathedral is a huge chapter house, a circular meeting room where the chapter members gathered to hear readings. Each had a seat with his coat of arms above it. If the chapter member was too busy, he often payed a priest to sit in his seat and represent him. Wells Cathedral is very impressive, only an hour from Bath, easy to get to, and is a great day-trip.
When we left the Cathedral, Colleen discovered that her knit hat was missing. We went back inside to look for it but our efforts were fruitless. We looked at the pictures we had taken before we went inside and realized that she must have lost her hat on the bus. We walked around the town, looked for a replacement for the hat, bought a sandwich at a grocery and ate sitting at the Parish Church fountain. The bus runs every hour so we timed our stroll to catch the bus. We got on, sat in the same seats we had occupied on the way out, and, lo and behold, there was the cap on the floor. It was black and hard to see but there it was. No telling how many trips the bus had made or how many people had sat in those seats or how many other buses make the trip from Bath to Wells each day, but what are the chances that we would ride back on the same bus and that no one had seen the hat. Colleen was very happy to get her hat back.

April 11, 2012, Bath, England
Today, we took the Mad Max Tour to Stonehenge and points east. We were on a minibus with people from America, China and Thailand, a strange combination, and a great guide who pointed out interesting sites and facts all day. We crossed the Avon River (yes, the same one) on the Paultney Bridge which was built in 1770. We passed the house where Jane Austin had lived during the 3 or 4 years she had been in Bath. We were told that Jane didn’t really like Bath because of the decadent behavior of her neighbors. No mention was made as to what she may have written during that period. We rode through beautiful countryside, rolling hills, saw hedge and stone fences, and lots of sheep. We traversed Salisbury Plain, which is open, and fairly flat. The main crop is barley which is exported to Europe. And then we arrived at Stonehenge.
The site is located in the middle of the “Y” where a road divides. The highway is so close it separates the visitor center from the site. It’s amazing that a road is so close to a national monument. People have inhabited this area for thousands of years because of the availability of flint. Between 10,000 and 6,000 years ago, a ring of wooden posts were erected in this area. Between 5,000 and 4,000 years ago (the same time that the pyramids were built), the first “henge” was erected of wood and earth. A “henge” is simply a circular wall and ditch. Next came the double circle of blue stones, the smaller stones, which came from 150 miles away and weighed as much as 5 tons. The large stones, the ones we see in all the pictures, were added 4300 years ago. These were actually shaped and had a “tongue and groove” system that locked the stones in place. The vertical stones had a large dimple on top and the vertical stones had depressions that fit the dimples and locked everything in place. For reference, the Great Wall of China was built about 3000 years ago and the Stones on Easter Island about 2000 years ago.
We don’t know why Stonehenge was built. Some say it was an astrological calendar because of the stones which mark the summer and winter solstice. Some say it was a place of sacrifice. Some say if was a pagan religious site. For whatever reason, it is impressive. Like the pyramids, we marvel at how a primitive people could have accomplished such a feat. Interestingly, the Druids, who gather there at the time of the solstices, had nothing to do with the building of Stonehenge. They arrived with the Celts from France about 2700 years ago.
We walked around the monument staying on the paved circular path. You can’t drive your car up to the site as the Griswalds did. Along the way there are numbered signs where you stop and listen to the audio guide which gives you detailed information.
Stonehenge is the most famous though not the only “henge” in the area. (A henge is simple a circular ditch and bank). Durrington Walls is near Stonehenge, as is Woodhenge. The area is full of ancient archeological sites. We traveled along narrow, winding roads past stone houses with thatched roofs. The bus stopped to let us get photos of the white chalk horses cut into the hillside. The area is essentially composed of white chalk hills with a thin layer of soil on top. Gentlemen farmers in the 1800’s had their servants remove the soil so that the figure of a horse appeared on the mountainside in white chalk. The idea became popular and there are also several other white horses adorning the hills of Wiltshire. Our guide also pointed out that this is the area where so many “crop circles” (some 60 or 70 per year) appeared overnight. Unfortunately for us, this was not the right season for crop circles.
Our next stop was Avebury Henge, but, along the way we passed Silbury Hill, a six-tiered man-made pyramid of white chalk, the largest prehistoric monument in England. No explanation was given for its existence. Avebury Henge is older than Stonehenge by a thousand years and sixteen times larger. It is huge, and, since you can’t take it all in from one spot, maybe not as interesting to most people. It is the largest henge in England, a mile in circumference. At one time the ditch was twenty feet deep and the surrounding bank thirty feet high, all dug using the antlers and shoulder bones of animals. Atop the bank there is a walkway of white chalk scratched out of the earth. There is a large ring of stones and two smaller rings, but these are not shaped, simply placed upright. Construction of Avebury was begun 2900 BC. It was abandoned 500 years later. How this is known, I have no idea.
One large stone has a niche in it called the “Devil’s Chair”. Supposedly it has mystical powers, or maybe, it held a curse for those who sat in it. I can’t remember which. Nevertheless, I sat in it and had my picture made. Our guide told us that Avebury was intersected with “Lay Lines”, lines of energy. He had two “L” shaped rods about the size of coat hangers. He held them in front of him and took a couple of steps. The rods moved in his hands, much like divining rods. He asked if anyone wanted to try and I took the rods. I held them loosely in my hands and the moment I held them horizontally, they spun around and pointed directly at me. The movement was so quick, I flinched. I’m not sure what power was or what was its source, but it existed. The rods moved in my hands with no assistance from me.
The village of Avebury is enclosed within the stone ring. Only a few buildings but I got a good look at a thatched roof. According to our guide, a thatched roof cannot be replaced and must be maintained in a certain way. The wheat for the straw must be grown organically and allowed to grow to a longer length than ordinary wheat. It has to be reaped by old methods so that the straw is not broken. After the straw is in place, it is covered with a large wire net to hold it in place, much like a woman’s hair net.
Next we went to Lacock, a beautiful, historic village which is entirely owned by the National Trust. Residents of the village cannot own, they can only rent. The village was founded over a thousand years ago and was listed in the Doomsday Book. In the 13th century, the Countess of Salisbury built an abbey there and got a royal charter for a market. It became important in the woolen industry. Henry VIII sold the abbey as a manor house and one family owned the entire village. The family gave the village to the National Trust in 1944 in order to avoid taxes, but they still live in the manor house.
Lacock is a picturesque village as has been used for the filming of several films and TV shows including: the first two Harry Potter films, Pride and Prejudice with Colin Firth, The Other Boleyn Woman with Scarlet Johansson, Wolfman with Anthony Hopkins, and Cranford Chronicles (a TV show) with Judi Dench. We had lunch in the George Inn which has been operating continually since 1361. And it looked as if very little had been changed through the years. Dark beams, walls covered with memorabilia, and a large fireplace. The fireplace was once used to cook meat on a spit. The spit was turned by a spit dog, who walked in a small round cage like the exercise treadmills we have in hamster’s cages. The explanation was posted on the wall along with drawings of the dog. What enticed the dog to walk without making progress was not explained. Actually I saw a spit dog in action in an old black and white movie, “A Tale of Two Cities”, I think. The Pub offered such draft beers as Bishop’s Tipple, St. George and the Dragon, and Henry’s I.P.A. After lunch, we walked through the town and saw Harry Potter’s parent’s house and the house of Professor Slughorn.
Next, we went to Castle Combe, which was once voted the Most Beautiful Village in England. It was another village that had been important in the woolen industry several centuries ago. Not much has changed since. Our guide told us that any time we see a town that seems stuck in time, it is usually due to a collapse of the local economy. The center of the village has a 14th century market cross. All the houses are stone and very old. The movies Dr. Doolittle and Stardust (don’t know this one) were filmed here, as well as the scene from War Horse in which the horse was auctioned. We went into the little church just off the square. The village is small and there is not much to see but the entire village is a postcard.
We were back in Bath by late afternoon. I got a pizza and we had supper in the room and rested.

April 12, 2012, Bath, England,
Today was a travel day. After a continental breakfast at the Windsor, we headed to the train station and a couple of hours later, we were at Paddington Station in London. We bought day tickets for the “tube” and got off at Victoria Station. We checked into the Grosvenor Hotel which has an entrance right inside the station. It’s a great location. A very nice old hotel, but a little pricey for my budget. It reminds me of the Raffles Hotel in Singapore. The lobby is beautiful with a huge chandelier and a wide stairway leading to an encircling balcony. Lots of gold in the décor. For one night, I felt it was worth it.
Our plans were to meet Sima that evening. Sima taught with us in Prague for a short time before going to work for the BBC. I visited her in New York last year and now she is back in London, still with BBC. But we had the afternoon, so we went to the British Museum. We saw the Elgin Marbles, which used to be on the pediment of the Parthenon, before Lord Elgin brought them to London. They are not complete and a lot of the figures have lost arms or legs, but they are still very impressive. The Elgin marbles have long been a bone of contention between England and Greece. The Parthenon was originally a temple dedicated to the Greek Goddess, Athena. Later, it became the Church of the Virgin Mary of the Athenians and then a mosque before falling into ruins. Lord Elgin was the British Ambassador to the Ottoman Empire and received permission from the Ottoman authorities to move the marbles to England. In the 1980’s, the Greek government began it efforts to the the marbles returned. So far, the British Museum has resisted those efforts. Also,we saw the Rosetta Stone, the artifact that allowed archeologists to decipher the Egyptian hieroglyphics. The stone is only a fragment of the original, but quite large, over six feet high and two or three feet wide. The same message is written in three languages on the black marble, hieroglyphics, demotic (don’t know what this is), and Greek. Unfortunately, we had to cut our visit short because we got invited to a musical play.
Micha, who worked with us in Prague for several years and is now at a school in London, had access to tickets to Mama Mia, The Wiz, or something else. We chose Mama Mia. Luckily she had enough tickets to invite Sima, whom she remembered. The play was great. We had good seats. The music was super, all ABBA songs. The crowd was enthusiastic. It was a good night. Afterward, Micha took us to a quiet pub a couple of blocks away for beer. I learned that, in London, you don’t just order a beer. There’s a distinction from heavy to light: a bitter, a lager and a lager light. Lager I had heard of but not a bitter. I tried them all. It was a good night.
April 13, 2012, London, England
The day to fly back to Prague but the flight was late in the afternoon, so in the morning, we went shopping for souvenir gifts and walked around sightseeing, enjoying the architecture and taking pictures. I found some egg cups for Harrison and some small gifts for others at Cool Britannia. We met Micha and Sima for lunch at New Loon Fung, a restaurant in Chinatown. Micha ordered several things and shared; tripe, squid, some type of sticky rolls, etc. It was a good meal. Went to Hamley Toy Store in search of Harry Potter paraphernalia for my granddaughters. No luck. But, the toy store had a life sized figure of the royal family, Charles and William and Kate and Harry, all made from Leggos. The Queen was also there, sitting on her throne. Had to have my picture made with the Queen. Mid afternoon we said goodbye to Micha and Sima and headed back to the hotel. One major impression of London is the noise. Like any big city, the traffic and the crowds are constant and it is difficult to converse as you walk along the street. We checked out and caught the train to the airport and flew back to Prague after a great two weeks in Great Britain.

DUBLIN, IRELAND

April 2, 2012 Prague, CZ

Colleen and I were going to a wedding in England during the Easter weekend, so we took the opportunity to go to Ireland first. We had been to Ireland once before, but had only spent a few hours in Dublin because I didn’t want to be in a big city. This time I wanted to give the city a chance. We had a pleasant Aer Lingus flight from Prague and arrived in Dublin, cloudy, overcast and drizzling. We took a bus from the airport and when we got off, walked one block to our hotel, the George Frederick Handel on Fishamble Street. The plaque on the front of the hotel stated that the “The Messiah” was first performed at the New Music Hall on Fishamble St. in April, 1742. Contrary to what most of my compatriots in Prague believe, I wasn’t there for the performance. The hotel was very pleasant and centrally located. We were able to walk to all the attractions. I recommend it.
That night, we went to the Prince Edward pub for the “best fish and chips in Dublin.” It was a beautiful pub, old and dark with heavy wood interior. You could just imagine the landed gentry standing in front of the bar having a pint of Guinness. Unfortunately, the kitchen was closed for one week, the week that we would be in Dublin. We settled for fish and chips at “The Arlington Hotel and Bar.” The dinner was OK but not great. We had our first Guinness and that was great. We stayed for the free show of Irish music. The band consisted of a banjo, an accordion and a guitar. The girl in the band also played a tin whistle. To the right of the band was a picture of a distinguished looking gentleman in eighteenth century dress looking quite serious. After about half an hour of listening to the music, Colleen nudged me and said, “Look at the picture.” The man was now moving. He reached in his pocket, stuck earphones in his ears and seemed to be listening to music. This went on for about thirty seconds and then he put the earphones away and resumed his original position, somber and immobile. During the course of the evening, he did this several times, each time doing something a little different and each time returning to the exact pose from which he had started. An interesting diversion. I asked the bartender if there was a pub nearby that featured a band with a Bodhran, the small, traditional Irish drum that I love. The bartender replied in a very condescending voice, “Well, that’s not a real instrument.” We didn’t get to see anyone play the Bodhran this trip though we went to several pubs advertising traditional Irish music.

April 3, 2012 Dublin, Ireland

After coffee in the room, we strolled leisurely down Lord Edward Street, which became Dame Street after a couple of blocks, which became College Green, etc. Along the way, we checked menus and prices and I looked for souvenirs I had promised to buy for those who had told me what they wanted. There were lots of souvenir shops along the way and we stopped in the Tourist Office to see what they had to offer. I found some of the items I was looking for. There were lots of things with Celtic themes and designs. I am so drawn to them and to the music that I wonder if my ancestors weren’t Irish or if I lived in Ireland in a previous life (like Bridey Murphy). Unfortunately the genealogical studies my brother has done can’t get us out of the hills of Tennessee. We can’t trace ourselves back to Europe at all.
Colleen got a Claddagh ring, the traditional Irish friendship ring that is named for the town where it was first produced in the 17th century. The distinctive design features two hands holding a heart surmounted by a crown. The heart represents love, the hands, friendship and the crown, loyalty. If worn on the right hand with the point of the heart toward the fingertips, the wearer is single and may be looking for a relationship. If the heart is pointed toward the wrist, the wearer is in a relationship or her heart has been “captured.” If worn on the left hand, heart pointed toward the fingertips, the wearer is engaged. If toward the heart, the wearer is married. So much to learn and so much to look out for. It is a beautiful ring. I was fascinated by the Trinity Knot, which can have religious or secular meanings. I looked for one that was masculine enough for me to wear, but my search was in vain. The knot represents the Holy Trinity to those who wish it. To others, it represents the three promises of a relationship, to love, to honor and to protect. The trinity Knot was found on ancient pagan runes and has been adapted to modern religious uses, much like Christmas and Easter were imposed on older pagan festivals.
The next stop was the National Gallery. One of the main reasons for our coming to Dublin was to see the Vermeer painting they have there. We had set a goal years ago to see all the Vermeers that still exist. There are only 35, not counting one that was stolen and one whose location is not currently known (I don’t know why). 35 is a reasonable goal and gave us an excuse to travel to different locations in Europe, as well as Washington and New York.
The National Gallery is somewhat small but interesting. It is free but no photographs are allowed. We first saw an exhibition of Irish artists and then proceeded to the permanent collection which was arranged in chronological order. It started with medieval religious paintings, lots of gold and halos. The gallery has a good sampling of famous artists but not an abundance of any particular artist. We saw Rembrandt. Caravaggio, a smattering of Impressionists, Monet, Cezanne, Pissarro, Sisley, etc. Bonnard was there and Picasso. And, of course, Johannes Vermeer and his “Woman Writing a Letter, with her Maid”. Many of Vermeer’s paintings show people seated in a room with light coming through a side window. This was no exception. But his snapshot of life in the period is rich with detail showing the dress of the day, the fabrics used in tablecloths, and the designs on the floor. There are also hidden messages in the paintings that the people of that period would have been able to read. A guide was explaining some of these to the group she was shepherding through the museum. Next to the Vermeer were two paintings by Gabriel Metsu, depicting the same subject, one, a lady writing to a gentleman and the other, a gentleman writing to a lady. They were similar to the Vermeer in composition but not quite as exquisitely accomplished. There was, however, another painter in the Dutch Masters room who, in my opinion, rivals Vermeer but is not so well known, Pieter De Hooch. He was a contemporary of Vermeer and their subjects and compositions were often similar to those of Vermeer. And his work was as near to perfection as that of Johannes. There were other paintings in the room by artists who seemed just as good but who were completely unknown to me. There were some whose efforts fell far short of the masters. This always makes me wonder why some artists are considered masters and are much sought after while others who displayed the same talent were virtually unknown. And why are some whom I don’t consider artists at all displayed in museums. Jackson Pollock is my prime suspect. He’s a dropper and splatterer, not a painter. And why do people like paintings that are random splotches of color that my grandchildren could have done, paintings that have no theme or design or significance and don’t indicate that the creator has any ability to actually draw. I remember a series of paintings in a bank where I used to work entitled “Homage to a Square.” Squares of diminishing size and different colors imposed on each other. I could have done that! My theory is that the artist had a booster who had the gift of gab and was able to convince the buying public and ultimately a museum that a painting that might have only one color, a solid canvas of blue, had significance and meaning. So much for my tirade. I like what I like.
We walked over to Trinity College which was only a couple of blocks away. Trinity College was founded by Queen Elizabeth I in 1592. It is a beautiful campus with stately gray buildings and beautifully landscaped courtyards. The buildings look like government buildings, designed to impress. The entrances are columned and the windows are rounded at the top with decorative miniature columns between. The yard is perfectly manicured, green grass and old trees that spread their limbs and offer shade. Tourists mixed with students who were changing classes. It was cold and windy and everyone moved briskly. We headed to the Old library where the Book of Kells is on display. The Book of Kells is a lavishly decorated copy, in Latin, of the Four gospels. It was begun early in the 9th Century by the Monks of Iona, an island off the coast of Scotland. The work was done on Iona or in Kells, County Meath, where the monks moved after 806AD, when Iona was attacked by Vikings. The Book was stolen in 1007, but recovered a few months later minus its gold and jeweled cover and a few pages at the beginning and the end. Obviously, gold and jewels were more valuable to the thieves than the written word. The book was sent to Dublin around 1653 for safekeeping during the Cromwellian period, and subsequently given to Trinity College by Henry Jones, Bishop of Meath, in 1661.
The exhibit begins with explanations of the origin of the book, its history and the tools and craftsmanship required to produce such a work. Huge back-lighted photographs of the book allow close examination of the details described in the commentary. Specific details are highlighted and explained as to what they mean and why they were included. For instance, St. Mathew is shown surrounded by peacocks, snakes and rats and he is crowned with a double halo. Each item had a specific significance. Nothing was left to chance.
Two pages of the Book of Kells, maybe 15 inches by 18 inches in size, were on display under glass, one a full page illustration and the other a page of text. In 1953, the book was bound in four volumes, each page carefully placed on a page of a larger book, much as we place clippings in a scrapbook. I understand that the pages on display are changed from time to time. The work is exquisite. The illustration is incredibly detailed and the full page of text is written in very small calligraphy. The first letter of each paragraph is usually illustrated in some manner. Certain monks did the calligraphy while others did the illustrations. Knowing the instruments they had to use, it an incredible accomplishment. It had to have been painstaking work. Granted, the monks had little else to do, but it must have taken vast amounts of time, effort and dedication to accomplish the task. The exhibit is well worth the entry fee.
There were other ancient books on display though none were as rich as the Book of Kells. Some were called “pocket” books because they were small enough to fit into a monk’s pocket as he traveled through the countryside.
From the Book of Kells, we proceeded to the Long Room of the Old Library, built between 1712 and 1732. The room is 65 meters long, two stories high and houses over 200,000 of the library’s oldest books. The barrel vaulted ceiling gives it an impression of even more height. The room is dark. Light filters in from the windows on each side but the ornately carved dark wood swallows it up. The central aisle is wide, allowing visitors to move easily about, and there are benches for those who want to sit and rest. On each side of the room, there are some twenty alcoves, each with a name written in gold above it, “Ex Dono” “Caroli Secundi” and “An Colle Nicerium”, etc. Each alcove has 14 shelves about 8 feet wide on each side. On one side, the shelves are lettered “A”, “B”, “C”, while the other side is lettered “AA”, “BB”, “CC”. Each side of each alcove has a moveable ladder allowing one to get to the top shelves. There is a cast iron circular stairway leading to the second floor and more books. Visitors are restricted to the central aisle, however. Only the docents can go beyond the ropes. Between the alcoves, facing the center are busts of famous figures from history, the more famous being stationed nearest the entry. To the left you find Shakespeare, Milton, Newton, Locke, and Bacon. To the right are Homer, Socrates, Plato and Aristotle followed by Cicero and Swift. As you move through the room, the names are less familiar, Dr. Lawson and Dr. Parnell, probably gentlemen who were important in Irish history at a later date.
Possibly the books in the Old Library are available for those doing research but from the musty smell of the room, it seemed that they had not been touched for quite some time. Unfortunately, no photographs were permitted either in the Book of Keels exhibit or the Old Library.
That night we had noodles at a tiny Chinese eatery called “Toki Doki”. I couldn’t resist going there. Then we headed to the famous “Temple Bar” pub in the Temple Bar area. In old Dublin, “bar” referred to the walking area beside the river Liffey which runs through the city. This particular area was owned by the Temple family. Thus the area extending for several blocks along the river and several blocks into the center of town is known as “Temple Bar”, as indicated on the map. The Temple Bar Pub is only one of a number of pubs in the area, a major attraction for tourists. The pub was founded in 1819 by James Harrison, possibly one of my ancestors on my mother’s side. It is old and dark, consisting of several rooms as though it had expanded through the years and consequently there are several bars in different rooms to serve the drinking patrons. Guinness flowed freely and was good. The walls were covered with pictures, some depicting the history of the place or celebrated sports teams and others showing famous or unusual patrons. One picture near us was of four Maori natives from New Zealand in full costume, highly tattooed, eyes bugged and tongues out. All around the walls were shelves 8 inches deep, wide enough to hold a pint, and wooden stools on which to sit. We listened to a two piece band playing traditional Irish ballads and jigs and reels. A waiter came around offering small pieces of blood sausage like hors d’oeuvres. A good time was had by all.

April 4, 2012 Dublin, Ireland

We began our day at Christ Church Cathedral, the mother church of the diocese of Dublin. The church was founded about 1030, near an old Viking settlement, by Dunan, first bishop of Dublin and Sitrius Silkbeard, Norse king of Dublin. The church has gone though many restorations and in 1186 was rebuilt in the Roman style by the Normans who had taken control of Dublin in 1170. In 1358, the building was extended to form a “long quire” (choir), remnants of which are still visible just outside the current structure. Henry, the Second, took his first communion here after the murder Thomas A. Beckett and Henry, the Third, made it a Cathedral in 1539. In 1742, the choir of Christ Church and that of St. Patrick’s Cathedral took part in the premier performance of Handel’s “Messiah.” Between 1871 and 1878, a major renovation took place giving us the church as we see it today.
Christ Church is in the shape of a Catholic church with nave, transept and choir, though it is today an Anglican/Episcopal church. It is a magnificent structure and has a warm feeling. The pamphlet they hand out to visitors states, “faith or no faith, we welcome everyone as a pilgrim.” The exterior of the church shows that it has been altered and added to through the years. Grey stone walls, flying buttresses, towers and turrets of different styles. The interior is wide and welcoming. A large central aisle is lined with chairs facing the aisle, not the choir. The high vaulted ceiling gives it space. The first thing I noticed was the tile work on the floor. There were colorful, intricate patterns everywhere. The most spectacular was a large circular pattern, probably six or seven feet in diameter with concentric circles, each of a different design. Each section of the church had a different design pattern or theme. One small chapel has the original medieval tiles still in place which were used as the inspiration for the designs throughout. The work was unusual, varied and beautiful.
On the left side of the church was an alcove housing the baptistery. A beautiful, colorful font stood in the middle. The tiled basin was mounted on carved marble pillars and was covered by a brass lid decorated with three dimensional figures. The pulpit was of ornately carved wood supported by equally ornate carved stone or marbles figures of the four apostles. Along each side of the nave were crypts with highly polished brass plaques giving details of the resident. The stained glass windows told stories from the Gospels which the members in Medieval times were able to read. One window showed a stately and regal St. Patrick. I suspect that he never dressed as he was depicted in the window. The entry to the choir was through Gothic arches with life size figures carved in stone. Behind the choir, the Chapel of St. Laud housed the reliquary of the heart of Archbishop of St. Laurence O’Toole, who died in 1180. Sometimes churches have finger bones or collar bones or the whole body of some revered figure, but to me it seems cruel to remove and preserve a piece of someone’s body. There is also, to one side of the church, a carved coffin that is supposed to represent the remains of Strongbow, the first to bring English rule to Ireland in 1170.
Below the church is a huge crypt containing tombs as well as artifacts that have been placed here for safekeeping. One such is a statue of Charles I and Charles II with the Coat-of-Arms of the Stuarts between them. Stocks, used for punishment and embarrassment, which had once stood in the Christ Church yard were now in the crypt. There was also a display of several costumes that had been used in the filming of the TV show, The Tudors.
Outside the church and surrounding it on the sidewalk, were imbedded in the paving stones brass replicas of items that had been found in excavations nearby. Knives, kitchen utensils, jewelry, etc. The area had been the site of a Viking settlement and across the street from the church was “Dublinia”, a small theme park which depicted life as it had been in the time of the Vikings.
Next we went to the “Queen of Tarts”, a delightful little pastry shop (even though it is a chain). I had a blueberry scone and coffee while Colleen had a raspberry scone and a café latte. Both were delicious and the little shop was packed, as it was every time we passed by.
We made our way to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. A church has stood on this site since the fifth century when St. Patrick baptized converts to Christianity. Normans built the first stone church in 1191. The building we see today was built in the early thirteenth century and has been enlarged through the years. It is a stately church with stone pillars, a vaulted ceiling, tiled floors and stained glass windows.
Again, one of the most striking features was the tile work in the floor. Intricate, colorful, beautiful. There are enormous statues and plaques and monuments throughout the church honoring famous people and war dead. The Knights of St. Patrick were especially honored and had seats in the choir with banners and helmets and coats of arms over their seats. There are crypts in the walls and tombs in the floor. The church seems to serve nationalistic as well as religious purposes. Plaques on the wall indicate that portions of the church have been used in times of troubles by people of other religions, including the Huguenots who were expelled from France and who worshipped here from 1666 t0 1816, and John Wesley, who was allowed to teach in one of the small chapels. Larger than life sized marble statues of famous personages lined the wall on one side.
Among the famous people buried in the church were Robert Boyle, known as the Father of Chemistry, and Jonathan Swift, author of Gulliver’s Travels. Swift was dean of St. Patrick’s from 1713 to 1745. He was a political activist and, like Benjamin Franklin, wrote under a pen name, “M. B., drapier” (drapier being his profession). He fought for Irish freedom and was extremely popular.
The pews were wooden benches and in front of each seat was a small needle point cushion used for kneeling. The cushions had names such as Wexford, Lahinch, Roscommon, and Enniskillen or geometric designs or simple pictures.
It’s a beautiful church, well worth the visit.
Next, we made our way to Dublin Castle. The castle was originally a Celtic ring-fort and continued to be an important location during the 300 year Viking reign in Dublin. After the Anglo-Norman invasion of 1170, a medieval style castle was erected, of which only one tower and one wall remain. Following a fire in 1684, the current structure was built and the fortress became a palace, somewhat similar to the architecture of Versailles, enclosing an open courtyard. Grand but uninteresting. You can tour the Staterooms of the palace. That day the tour was free, consequently all the tours were booked. I was not disappointed. I’ve seen regal staterooms, glimpsed the life of the wealthy royalty and it just doesn’t appeal to me. We did go into a small chapel attached to the castle. Small but beautiful, it featured coats of arms carved in rich dark wood throughout. Each coat of arms had a family name and a date, many from the seventeen hundreds and earlier.
That night we headed back to the Temple bar area for more beer and music. We stopped at PaPa John’s for pizza. It was just like we have in the States. And the young lady who brought us our pizza gave each of us a Cadbury Egg. A perfect treat at Easter time.
We went to the Oliver St. John Gogarty Pub in Temple Bar. The décor was very similar to the Temple Bar. Several bars, dark wood, pictures and paintings covered the wall, crowded, lots of Guinness. A small band played the same music we had heard the previous two nights. And it was good.

April 5, 2012 Dublin Ireland.

We started the day wandering down the main street. Saw a man unloading kegs of beer from a truck. He had a large, thick cushion, one that might have been used on a sofa, which he threw on the pavement beside the truck. He reached high above him and tilted a keg until it fell. It landed directly on the cushion, which eased the fall, bounced once and rolled away. He quickly retrieved it, rolled it to where he wanted it to be and reached for another. Fascinating how we find a simple solution to an everyday problem. “Necessity is the, etc.”
The goal for the day was to buy souvenirs for those who had requested them. We went into several souvenir shops and found what I wanted. There seemed to be a Carroll’s souvenir shop every couple of blocks.
We went to Stephen’s Green, a lovely wooded area in the middle of town, much like Central Park in New York but not as large. There were small lakes and trees and green grass and flowers, lots of flowers. Ducks and gulls swam in the water and came toward anyone who stopped along the edge in hopes of getting something to eat. The park was arranged so that you could wander through and enjoy the beauty of nature away from the noise of the city. It was very peaceful.
We wanted a “full Irish breakfast” just so we could say we had had one, but we were too late. We settled for a Subway sandwich, good and cheap. We saw the statue of Molly Maguire, the lady who sold cockles and muscles along the waterfront. She was in bronze, full sized, and pushing her cart full of wares. Her dress was very low cut, leaving little to the imagination. Maybe that was the dress of the day but I suspect she displayed her ample charms to attract customers. We crossed the River Liffey and walked along McConnell Street, the main shopping street in town. More tourist shops, including Carroll’s. We walked and gawked and got back to the hotel four hours later. We came out again mid-afternoon and had coffee and cheesecake at the Queen of tarts, a different one. We went to the Old Warehouse for dinner and music. I had a hamburger and Colleen had fish chowder. Both were delicious with the Guinness. We had perfect seats for watching the band, two pieces, a guitar and a banjo. The same music, Galway Girl, Whiskey in the Jar, etc., but this was the best band we heard.
The next day was a travel day to go to the wedding in England. I’ll tell about that under the heading England which will follow shortly.