Two Weeks in Merry Olde England

I don't know when we last took a vacation of two weeks that did not include family, and I am not going to go back and look it up, but I'm pretty sure it has been about forever.

England it is.  Visits to friends in three different locations and in between a look at London.  That's a lot to do in 14 days.

Edinburgh

Fly from Hamburg to Edinburgh, a rather long day, but so it is. It seems the hotel is owned and operated by Russians when we arrive, and Italians when we leave.  Europe is nothing if not international but Brexit seems to want to undo that...

It's cool and gray when we arrive, and we have an interesting ride on the tram into town - it's clear they want to make it easy to do, and that it is. Because we'd done the hotel through an App, they let us know the various ways to get to the hotel.  My skepticism of Apps has been a bit moderated - they gave us all the options with costs.  Wow.

At dinner time it was not so easy to find a place to eat. We end up in a rather ordinary restaurant with pub grub though we'd hoped to eat at the Conan Doyle, just down the street.  That was a lovely, but fully booked place.  So we ate haggis and peas and mash for Werner and a Scottish pie and something else we forget for me. Not memorable, but not bad.

We woke up in the morning to steady rain, and it didn't let up till early afternoon.  OK - we had our breakfast and headed out to the Scottish National Museum.

Along the way, we said hello to Five Guys. Ya know, I love Five Guys, but I'd much rather eat those burgers in the US, not here in Europe.

The memorial to Sir Walter Scott, a national hero. It is B I G.

The museum was so pleasing. A bit of everything and not too much of anything, lovely examples of so many artists and everything placed so you could see it and enjoy it.  Maybe a lot of that had to do with the fact that it was not crowded to the gills!

There were examples by Raphael and Botticelli,

And Watteau!  I wrote a paper about him when working on my Master's.  There aren't all that many attributed paintings.  What a treat to actually see one.

Vincent. A lesser known painting.

John Sargent Singer.  He's the best portraitist, really, ever.

All the public museums in the UK are free - no entrance fee.  I have to say it's a bit weird to just go to the door and walk in...but ever so nice.

This sea gull sat atop this statue for so long we thought it was fake.

When we finished our round, the rain was done and we walked around the old city a bit. They don't want the tourists to get hit by cars because they look the wrong way.  It seemed every cross walk had a warning.

And since I'd seen a guy with Krispy Kreme doughnuts the day before, I was a bit obsessed and found that the local market had a small "outpost" with assorted doughnuts. I'm only interested in the classic glazed, so after our walk-about, we bought three doughnuts and went back to pick up our bags.

The now Italian  person at reception made us tea, entertained us with stories (and her accent) until we left to take our train to meet up with Muriel and Tony.

Whitley Bay/Newcastle

The only thing I can complain about RE: being with our friends is that they don't let us do anything.  Really, we are guests. Can I help with dinner.  No.  Can I set the table.  No.  Just sit.

OK.

Along with all that pampering, we get tours. 

Day One was a visit to this unique earth sculpture created on an old coal slag heap. The "woman" is lying down, head and breast up, hips and knees to the side. Trails take you to the various high points where you can see a bit of the countryside, and in some parts, the continuing strip mining.

Here you can see her head and nose and breasts.

Looking at her nose.  They blocked the path there because it was being eroded.

If you walked all the paths, it would be a good hour plus, but we did the highlights which was good enough.

Though Tony didn't feel up to the walking, he helped us make a great group photo.

Before heading back to the house, we walked to the lighthouse at Whitley Bay, so lovely.  Along the way, we picked up some sea glass and some shells. No sand on this beach!

After dinner we played a version of dominoes.  Neither Werner nor Tony are big on games, but they were good sports. I forgot who won, so that means it wasn't me!

Next day, Muriel went with us into Newcastle.  She had some banking to do and last time, we hadn't seen  the old town at all.

A memorial to Lord Earl Grey, the Earl Grey Tea guy.

An art deco arcade.  There aren't many shops there, sadly, but what a fantastic space!

The Marks and Spencer's in the shopping zone has a mass of greenery growing on the side of the building.  There were other vertical plantings along the motorways, too.

Muriel was especially keen to visit the local natural history museum to see the travelling dinosaur skeleton, a cast from the Carnegie Museum in Pittsburg; he's called Dippy (for diplococus) and all the school children come to visit.  I have to say, I have seen a few dinosaur skeletons and this one is impressive.

Along with the skeleton, there's a huge display about climate change.  Good for them.

And there was an extensive interactive display of Hadrian's wall.  It's a verrrry looong wall across the whole of England and is so close by.  We'd walked some of the wall on our last visit.

Muriel headed back home while we did a bit more walking around in the old city, had a coffee, wrote some postcards.

Downton Abbey is not only popular in the USofA...

There was a TKMaxx (TJ to you in the US), Starbucks, McD, BurgerKing,  Five Guys, Victoria's Secret, KFC, here as well. I confess, we went to the TKMaxx and bought some socks for me.

Thursday we headed to the Glass Museum, but on the way Muriel and Tony let us off to walk under the Tyne.  That was a Wow. This underwater path has been there for decades, still used and now modified for folks biking. Walking down the old wood escalator was a bit weird but cool.

There are so many little interesting places to visit along the way, wherever you're headed.  This time it was the Souter Lighthouse, still working.  And there's a big sign at the corner of the lighthouse yard that warns you the fog horn - a very large contraption - could go off at any moment without warning.  Definitely not wanting to be there when the horn blows.

Along the cliffs was a part of the footpath that goes completely around the island.  Ah. That would be a walk.

The Glass Center at Sunderland is part of the National Heritage and they have demonstrations, of course.  Just as we arrived, they were doing lathe glass cutting. Really, does that even make sense?  But of course it does when you see it.  Fortunately, we could watch it because understanding the local Geordie dialect is virtually impossible for us outsiders.

The current exhibit was very good and we were quite impressed.  The ideas of the artists are fantastic and the execution faultless.  Amazing, and I don't really even like glass work all that much.

Along the way there's George Washinton's ancestral home. What? Our Founding Father?  Yes, him, but the admission price was a bit steep and we didn't have that much time, so we climbed the steps at the church next door and took a few pictures.

Very cool boxwood shaping in the back garden.

When we get back, Muriel had to take a quick run to the store and got pressured by some drivers on the way home and end result was serious tire damage.  Not good news as they planned to leave the next Wednesday for Mittenwald!  Yow!

Tony's efforts the next morning didn't get far, so Werner and I booked the train to Carlisle and left our hosts to work out the car troubles!  Poo.

Carlisle

Carlisle is home to an impressive cathedral, founded in 1122, with glorious windows and carvings.  Werner signed the guest book and we went wandering.  The ceiling is especially popular, so much so that they've put a carpet on the floor just so visitors can lie down and contemplate the golden stars on the deep blue background.

When we left, one of the volunteers asked "Are you from Bremen?" and of course we said Yes, and??  She told us she'd done an exchange with her school many years before in a little part of Bremen called Vegesack.  What a hoot!  We exchanged a lot of information and filled in some blanks with each other and enjoyed our It's a Small World moment.

Lancaster

Anne and Neil met us at the station and we walked the few minutes to their house, just opposite the old castle. I noted the hill, huffing and puffing! Anne kept asking if I needed help.  Lordy, I am getting old.

The view of the castle from just down from the front door to Anne and Neil's place. Wow.

I'm often reminded of what Daddy said when he and mother had planned to come visit us in Germany way back in 1998. What do you want to see, I asked. He said, I like old things.  He'd have had a lot of old things to like around here.

Anne and Neil's place is a Victorian town house, actually a blended two houses, with two rooms on each of four floors.  We were on the top floor (climbing was a regular activity in England!). Their home is as old as our place, but lots more sophisticated in terms of basic construction, but in England, these old places have no indoor plumbing - indoor bathrooms, for sure, but all the pipes are outside.

The back garden is small but charming.

Neil's the chief cook and bottle-washer, and he did an outstanding job feeding us all!  First night was salmon done to perfection, dining at the lovely table.  After three days of pudding (known as dessert in the US) at Muriel and Tony's, we were grateful for cheese and no sweets to end the meal.

Anne declared Saturday the best day for walking, so shortly after breakfast off we went to the Lake District, specifically Grasmere where we walked to Alcock Tarn (right, Anne???). We started with jackets but they were soon shed. It was challenging enough for us flat-landers with rocks and some relatively steep areas.  Along the way we stopped to eat our smoked salmon and cream cheese sandwiches on Neil's homemade yummy bread.

From the top we could see Lake Windermere well below.  Lovely, lovely views and a nice day to see them.

It's funny, but heading down the mountain is often as strenuous as going up, but there was at least one guy who passed us bouncing from stone to stone.  Clearly, he'd grown up doing just that!

Finding the way.....

Lovely paths.

Sunday, Anne walked us around the city.  First stop, the castle - really, it's just across the street.  It was never occupied by royalty and for a couple hundred years or more it was a prison; frankly, it looks a lot more like a prison than a residence and rightly so - its purpose was defense. 

To the side is the church (or one of the churches), and as we were walking by, we heard music.  Let's go in, Anne said.  I was hesitant to interrupt a service, but we did (as did others) so very quietly, and stood in the back. As it turned out, it was the end of Lancaster Sings Week (or something like that) and there was a good congregation to sing along with the choir.  

Walking into the city, we first encountered a craft fair and greeted a friend of Anne's who is a potter (and we came away with a small memory of our visit).

We visited the former judges' lodgings when they had cases at the castle, now a museum, where no pictures were allowed ????  Hard to know why.  There were lots of interesting rooms furnished as they were last century.  And since Lancaster is kinda small, one of the volunteers is a friend of Anne's.

Anne had other errands and we headed out to explore a bit.  Ah, the Queen, the one and only Victoria.

Walking along the canal was interesting, and a bit narrow when cyclists come from the other direction.

After dinner of sausages and mash (wonderful, of course) we were treated to a mini-concert by the  pianist in residence. 

Day next, we headed toward Sunderland Point (not the same Sunderland on the other side of the big island) but of course had a couple of stops along the way.  

First, a stop at Morcambe which was in the days before cheap flights a destination for lots of families for holidays.  There's water and beach and hotels and entertainments for big guys and kids.  Now, fewer folks come and the community is struggling a bit, but it survives.

Next, Heysham.  There's a church there right on the water, along with a graveyard. I wonder that rising waters won't make that a watery grave....

One grave in particular attracts attention.  The poor chap is known forever as Poet, Philosopher and Failure. Ouch. You want to know who erected that memorial.

Nearby are the ruins of a much earlier church, dating from the 8th century.

These are thought to be ancient stone coffins from the 8th c, perhaps Vikings.

We finally arrived at Sunderland Point. Visits have to be timed because the tide blocks access to the point which means folks there are cut off from the mainland on  a regular basis.  Not a negative.

It's one of those places where the tide goes waaaaay out and leaves boats stranded in the mud.

They have one of the terrace houses (row house) facing the beach - cosy and light.  Easy to understand the appeal of the water compared to the stones in town... The "beach"  which is what no one in Florida would call a beach.

And the view from the house.

There's a walk to take to the other side of the point  along the lane...

where there's a grave to a "Negro" servant of a captain who died there but couldn't be buried in the local cemetery.  It's become a pilgrimage point for school groups and others. You can just make it out under The Lane - to Sambo's Grave.

Our last evening was dinner out at a local restaurant - of course within walking distance.  It was a fitting end to a lovely visit. 

OK, random picture, but I just love all the chimney tops.

And walking back the last night, a big, big moon over the bridge.  

London

Farewell to Lancaster, and on to the 12:38 to London Euston and take the Circle Line to Paddington Station. Yes, there's a Paddington Bear shop there.

Out of the country and plopped into the major big huge city. 

It's pretty easy finding the hotel, but not so easy dragging the bags up three floors to our room. But we have a fan! More than welcome since the days have become warmer and warmer.

Don't be impressed by the exterior.  It's no more than a 2-star hotel, but the folks were nice and the rooms were clean.  Breakfast was unremarkable.  In fact, we skipped it twice.

The neighborhood is a mix of touristy places since it's so close to the station and some really upscale hotels and restaurants.  Walking through a Mews (very much like an upscale alley), we run across young girls putting their horses into the stables after a little ride in Hyde Park, just a minute away. Horses!  In the middle of London!

Later we see that apartments in the various Mews in this area are over a million pounds - and they are NOT fancy.  Wow.

Day One in London begins with an English Breakfast though the whole staff in this English hotel is Russian.  Do you like coffee or tea?  Do you like English Breakfast?  Do you like orange juice or apple juice?  Really, read that to yourself in a Russian accent!!  I'm not enamored of the food but Werner is OK with it - two sort-of fried eggs (they look like they were cracked in the pan and then covered so they were more or less poached), one sausage that had a passing acquaintance with a pig, a nice slice of well-smoked bacon, baked beans and toast, cut in triangles, served in a toast rack so they will be nice and cold before you have a chance to spread the butter on them. 7:30 - 9:30.  Like I said, two mornings of that were enough.

It's so much nicer to travel above ground than under, so we tried to figure out the bus but end up going the wrong direction and have to get off and go back!  Travelling is such an adventure with us.

It took a couple of days, but we figured out all the undergrounds and a good many busses. It was fun.

The Tate Britain is our first stop. OMG this place is a city!  We're looking at the map and trying to decide where to even start when a man comes up and offers help. I don't know if these are volunteers or paid staff - they're not "guards" - but they were near all the entrances and on some floors, just helping visitors find what they're looking for. My first interest was William Morris, so he told us about the lunch rooms decorated with tiles of that era, walked us to the front desk, gave us some printed information and showed off the Chihuly glass chandelier, newly cleaned for the artist's recent visit.  I showed him the Chihuly glass we had seen in Groningen, and he was glad to see it.

There is so much stuff in this place, I think perhaps the English version of the Smithsonian (the nation's attic).  And to think that practically everything there was in someone's home at some time.

Lunch at the museum was probably the best meal we had in London - quiche, fresh slaw and fresh beet salad.

And on to the London Eye (now known as the Coca-Cola London Eye). It's about a 20 minute wait in the line, not bad, and we're in a capsule that holds about 16-18 people, glass all around so there's never a blocked view. 

The weather was perfect and the view was good, though I think we'd have enjoyed it more if we were more familiar with London.

Now to St. Paul's Cathedral.  I've seen lots of pictures, of course, and it's one of the standards in Art History books, but I was unprepared for the size of it.  On the other hand, it is perfectly balanced, so somehow it is not overwhelming.  We got in just as they were beginning evening vespers, so no indoor shots, but a nice sit and listen to calming music.

Dinner:  fish and chips.  One order to share was p l e n t y.

We slept in on Friday and had coffee and a roll at a local shop then went to buy our tickets to Bath.  It appears you can't buy tickets at the kiosk for tomorrow (or the next day) so we stood in line at the service center.  It didn't take long and the folks were so nice.  Done.

The British Museum.  Of course it's not how I remember it.  Then, 1980 or 81?, the Rosetta Stone was on a pedestal just out there, unprotected.  I even leaned on it because I was so tired; the museum guard gently suggested I shouldn't do that. Now, the Rosetta Stone is isolated like the Mona Lisa in a jail of Plexiglas, and lots of folks stand around and take selfies with it.

My goal was the Parthenon sculptures. When we arrived, the room was loud and full, but it gradually emptied and I enjoyed slowly reading and looking and bathing in the classical beauty of these sculptures. I won't get into the arguments of where they belong but I will defend Lord Elgin's effort to preserve and protect these ancient treasures.

Here are some random shots - The Parliament Building, Abraham Lincoln, Brexiteers, a really long escalator in the Underground, Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square, Covent Garden, protesters at FridayforFuture (and the police), beer, Leiscester Square, pretty buildings...

Another forgettable dinner and then pack for our next stop.

Bath and Bratton

Saturday, it's time to pack up and leave. We have our last "English" breakfast at the hotel, pack up and head out to Bath.

Of course, we leave the station on the wrong side on arrival, but Werner finds Nick and we head off for our Bath tour.

We wandered around for 2+ hours and got a really good look a the city through the eyes of a friend and a professional - it's Nick's job; he does private tours of UNESCO Heritage sites.  We started at the Pump House next to the Roman Baths and a place where you can still have high tea and listen to live performances of classical music.  It's where folks came to "take the water" and get cured from whatever ailed them.

There are lots of buildings from the Victorian era, from regular to very posh.

The Avon runs through the town (though not the one that goes through Stratford) and under a bridge inspired by Palladio.

And I bought a piece of fudge (it was pretty good).

At the end of the tour we ran into two charming ladies there for the Jane Austen week.  One was from Germany and said Nick had been the guide for her group two years earlier.  Fun.

Heading out of town, we pass some interesting landscapes and meet Libby and Coco the springer spaniel at a rustic restaurant for a light lunch. 

They moved from Bath a few years ago to this rural area with a HUGE yard and pasture.  A local farmer uses the pasture for his sheep periodically, so there's not much need to mow that.  Libby grows a lot of her own veggies and they showed us their "summer house" at the top of the hill where the view is best.  I could well imagine taking a book up there and falling asleep listening to the wind in the trees.

Part of the yard, and one of the many little outbuildings already there.  Looks like a painting to me.

And Coco, who loves to chase sticks and balls.

A walk up the hill (they have lots more hills here than in Bremen!) for yet another view of the countryside and its Ice Age formed hills.

After an excellent dinner, there followed by a sampling of flavored gins, mostly home-made, we talked and talked and finally turned in.  It was shockingly quiet there after four nights in London.

What great hosts!  It was nice for me to get to know them, nice for Werner to reminisce a bit on times he and Nick spent together, and we'll for sure want to have another visit.

Day last, we sleep in just a bit, have breakfast and Nick drives us to the little station in Westbury for our 12:21 train, back to London Paddington, transfer to Liverpool Street and then on to Stansted airport and finally Bremen.  It's a long, long day of travelling - 11 PM getting home.  We pack ourselves into bed.

Another adventure into the books.