School In Our Jammies

Along with hundreds of fellow tourists, we positioned ourselves for the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace this morning.  In fact, we nabbed a great spot right in front, at 9:30 — an hour-and-a-half early, per Baumgaertel Time.

While we waited, I snapped photos of these guys:

After about an hour, an official walking by announced to all that there would be no guard change today.  However,  if we stuck around for another 10 minutes, we’d see a “special person” arrive.

“Not the queen,” said the guy.  “But someone else.”  Clearly he couldn’t say who…but Jim and I speculated as we waited. Charles?  William?  Archie?

Time passed.

We waited.

A big van drove in through the gate.  Inside were several Beefeaters.

More time passed.  We tired of waiting.  Then, action!  Marching up the street was the Queen’s horse guard.

Finally, we decided that whoever the special person was likely arrived in the van with the Beefeaters.  Or sneaked in the back door?

Giving up, we found a coffee shop.

Next was a tube ride to the British Library, where Isaac Newton measures the universe:

Inside, Jim and I found treasures:  ancient Bibles, Shakespeare folios, the Magna Carta.  Also, precursors to social media called “Friendship Albums” and ancient maps.  Sadly, Beowulf was off-exhibit.

Home for a nap, then out one more time for a walk across the Millennial Bridge and a glimpse of the Old Globe, we now watch BBC news in our room.

Tomorrow is British Museum, where we will try to remember our World History and the Bible studies.  Ashurbanipal, anyone?

This is short today, as we’re in a London without my computer.

Westminster was as worthwhile as it was last time, as full of tourists, and our only big event today.

Afterward, we hopped back on the underground and ended up in our hotel near St Paul’s.

Tomorrow is changing of guard at palace (unless it’s pouring) and British Library.

Success! Jessica is now the happy owner of a gorgeous wedding dress. Of course, the style, designer, color, embellishments, length, material, and all other pertinent details are strictly confidential. It is, however, perfect.

Jim and I are happy owners of Oyster Cards. Woo hoo! This means we were able to ride the tube today; me to the dress shop with Jessica and him to Churchill’s War Rooms all by himself. He took Uncle Rick. He learned lots.

One tidbit he learned was that Churchill had a special, direct, phone line to Roosevelt. His staff did not know this; they thought that the little room housing the equipment was WC’s private loo.

Waiting for his wife and daughter to join him, Jim then napped on the lawn in Hyde Park. While he was there, he made a new friend – Lloyd. Jessica and I strolled through Hyde Park from the far end, and eventually joined him.

The three of us sat for Royal Tea at Kensington:

Finally, we took our leave and our leftovers — walking, tubing and training again to Reading. Tomorrow Jim and I turn around and go back to London for three nights, culminating with Comedy of Errors at The Globe on Saturday with Jessica and Jasper. We don’t sit around much. Except that now we are…in a sugar-induced, walked-all-over-London coma.

‘Twas another train day, which was so much more enjoyable than yesterday’s “car day.” Five hours and some walking minutes later, we now sit in Jessica’s flat having just eaten tortellini and salad for dinner. Let’s make this a catch-up post, shall we?

Our window from the Fort William apartment boasted “stunning views of Loch Linnhe”, which we assumed was a lake. Not. A miles-and-miles-long finger of salt water, it originates in the Atlantic Ocean. This we did not know until the next day. Also in Fort William is Ben Nevis, UK’s tallest peak at 4,411 feet. We saw many peaks, assumed one of them was Ben Nevis, and kept on driving to Glenfinnan.

Glenfinnan is famous for Bonnie Prince Charlie (who tried to take Scotland back from the Brits) and a neat bridge. It just so happened that a steam locomotive chugged across the bridge while we were walkin’ along:

Jessica and I each stared at the plaque below for a good thirty seconds before realizing we couldn’t read it:

Off again, we drove to Arisaig, a wee town on the western coast of Scotland, where the tide was low and lunch was tasty. Had we instead turned back to Edinburgh from Fort William, we may have missed yesterday’s “diversion on the A9”. Or, it may not have mattered. We definitely would have missed the hairy cows.

Finally, this morning we walked to Waverly Station in Edinburgh and boarded our first-class rail car for London. Not quite as classy as the last trip, this one did not include hot food nor special drinks as today was a “bank holiday.” It did, however, include all the shortbread and sandwiches we could nab, and we did. We also played “Timeline: British History”:

It’s not as hard as it seems, people. All you do is figure out if an event –the birth of Mary, Queen of Scots – came before or after another event – the first nuclear power plant to open in the UK. See? I even won a hand or two.

Only two glitches marred our otherwise uneventful, comfy journey today. Thinking he was putting the keys to our last Airbnb back into the lockbox, Jim instead put in Jessica’s spare house keys. He realized this as we pulled into London, but all is well…or will be when we mail them back tomorrow.

And, we left a bag of food on the train…apples, chips, margarine. Margarine? It was for the potato scones we left in the first Edinburgh Airbnb, two nights ago. Could have been worse.

Tomorrow Jessica, Jim and I train back into to London; she and I for dress shopping, Jim for sightseeing on his own. Jim will be loose on the underground, all by himself, until he meets up with us for high tea at Kensington.

Tell you what:  I’ll leave you with a picture of a stag, seen along the side of the parking area in Glenfinnan.

It was a long, long, long day today, folks.  Our 4-hour drive back to Edinburgh took 7, due to a closed freeway.  So, I give you this, which made the whole event worth the wait:

Snapped on the fly, from a briefly stopped car (thanks, Jasper!)  To see the full version, with screams of glee, go visit Jessica’s FB page.

Back to Reading tomorrow, via first class train.

We’re in the Highlands, people.

You need to know that I was the first to spot Heilan Coos, those ginger-colored, shaggy, big-horned cows this region is famous for. Sadly, spotting them involved exclaiming “there’s one!” from our moving car, not walking up to them in an open field. Maybe tomorrow.

Jasper ate Rumpledethump at the Bridge of Orchy Hotel, and declared it quite tasty. Hotel below, also bridge and Jim:

Driving along the “high road”, we saw several of my favorite signs. Finally, I asked Jim and Jessica to get a picture so I could share it with you:

At Glencoe Visitor’s Center, I bought myself a pair of raspberry-pink gloves because it is very, very cold here. Also there, we read that “it is a shame when visitors leave the Highlands without getting their shoes dirty.” Not to be shamed, we took a hike:

Now we sit in our Airbnb in Fort William, overlooking Loch Linnhe. The sun has set behind the mountain. We’ve eaten Indian food from the grocery store. Tomorrow is another high road drive to Arisag, then back to Edinburgh for the last night in Scotland.

I’ll leave you with pretty flowers:

Gawking:  Rosslyn Chapel, built in 1446.  No pictures allowed inside, but outside looked like this —

Inside, we looked for a carving of corn, “green men heads”, and a movie poster. Do you know which not-so-very-good movie saved Rosslyn Chapel from perpetual ruin by jump-starting the flow of tourist dollars?  Sure you do.

Storming: Stirling Castle, another important place of Robert the Bruce. This one is situated high above the city of Stirling, with stunning views and a more relaxed pace.  In fact, this one was more easily stormed than Edinburgh Castle, as there were fewer tourists.  We don’t dislike our fellow tourists; we just like it when they are other places than we are.

Inside lacked the artifacts, jewels, and big cannons of yesterday’s castle; but the reproductions were picture-worthy.

This is the Ladies’ Lookout, where ladies look out to enjoy the view of the pastoral countryside. Presumably the men look out on the other side, where there is no railing to break their fall should they take an arrow in the gut or step backwards to take a selfie one time too many.

Whingeing:  It means “to whine”, which is not really what we did as we waited in the COLD for the great big wheel to move canal boats from the upper canal to the lower canal and vice versa.  We waited patiently.  It finally happened. Then, we left.

All in all, ’twas another good day in Scotland.  We topped it off with yet another dinner at Conan Doyle’s, and yes — Jim ate haggis.

“Was it something you’ll order again?” I asked him just a bit ago.

“Umm…no,” he answered diplomatically.  “But I’m glad I did, so you can tell everyone that we (yep, we all had a bite) tried it.”  Consider yourselves told, people.  It was okay.

All righty then.  It is time for sleep for tomorrow we drive into the highlands in search of Heilan Coos.

Our morning began with an epic coffee fail and a unanimous resolution to walk the six minutes to a coffee shop and buy it tomorrow. Moka pot produced three half-cups for the three coffee drinkers, then took over 40 minutes to not make any more. But, Wensleydale cheese with almond croissants and potato scones made for a tasty breakfast. Then, we walked to the castle.

Edinburgh Castle is at one end of the Royal Mile, and Holyrood House at the other. Hoofing it from our flat dumped us somewhere in the middle of the mile, whence we turned uphill and climbed to the castle gates.

A stronghold of Scottish independence, the castle sits imposingly atop a rocky bluff. Its gates are flanked by William Wallace and Robert the Bruce, and inside are the Scottish crown jewels, lots of swords, lots of guns, lots of cannons, and stained glass. Also, Mary, Queen of Scots. Unfortunately, she wasn’t taking questions or posing for the tourists while we were inside the Great Hall, but if we had stayed awhile, she may have.

And, there were cannons! One great big one is named “Mons Meg”, described as “the great iron murderer.” This was not her:

We wanderers scooted over to the Crown Jewels, as I had read it is best to see those first thing, before the throng gets in line. Indeed, it was. Afterwards, we needed coffee (because of the fail) and scones (because we’re in the UK). Jasper explained the controversy concerning clotted cream vs jam (which goes on first?) so we took his lead and agreed jam is best atop cream, not the other way around.

After we were satisfied with our castle experience, we wandered down the Royal Mile, which is an excellent wandering experience. Strolling, shopping, eating (again) – what more could there be to a pleasant day in Edinburgh?

Well, there could be climbing Arthur’s Seat, which these two did. They made it “ten meters below the top” in their non-hiking attire before declaring it “good enough”:

Jim and I trekked for home and took our naps. Now we wait for pizza to be delivered. Tonight is either a board game or a movie, or both, and tomorrow we journey to Stirling and Falkirk.

1. I love trains.
2. Ours took us to Edinburgh, where we now sit in our “Quintessential Mews House” until we venture out for food. What’s a “mews house”, you ask? Good question, and I do know the answer. Stand by.
3. First train, Reading to Paddington: half hour. Next, Paddington Station to King’s Cross, via the underground: not very long. Then, King’s Cross to Edinburgh, first class: four-and-a-half hours.
4. Yes, people, first class.
5. First class, four-and-a-half-hour train rides are superb. Why? Good question.
   1. Unlike air travel, trains do not come to cruising altitude before servers bring first class riders a drink and a menu.
   2. Barely out of the station, Jessica, Jim and I chose the “tart”; Jasper the pork.
   3. After each stop, servers once again walk the aisle with drink offerings and food offerings to fellow first class passengers who may have just boarded.
   4. Upon their carts are also crisps, shortbread, candy and the like, which first class passengers may reach out and grab as servers pass. Jessica adroitly nabbed shortbread at least once.
6. Food notwithstanding, there were views – yellow (rapeseed, from which comes Canola oil) and sheep! With lambs! Bright yellow rapeseed fields and neat green ones with sheepies are difficult to photograph from a moving train, but here you go:
7. As we neared Scotland, Jasper remarked that we were likely nearing Scotland.
8. “We’re not in Scotland,” said our favorite server. “Watch for a caravan park, then a wasteland, then three hills and a sign. Then we’ll be in Scotland.”
9. We saw the caravan park.
10. It was much more difficult to identify “wasteland”, however. Is a wasteland a flat place? An empty place? A flat, empty place?
11. We did see, we thought, three hills and began to count. One…Two…Three…no sign, except one that said “Edinburgh 50 miles.” Were we in Scotland?
12. We are now.
13. Before we walked downtown for dinner, we discussed haggis. Jim wanted some.
14. I said surely before we leave Scotland, he can eat haggis.
15. Jim said, “I think I should get it first, in case I really like it! Otherwise I might think, ‘I could have been eating this the whole time!”
16. Jessica and Jasper found a pub with the three important qualities: good drink, good pies (pies are meat ones, not fruit ones) and good atmosphere. Ours was the Conan Doyle. Haggis with Neeps and Tatties was on the menu.
17. All of us ate meat pies, though, because it was a “meat pie” kind of evening – cold and gray.
18. Now we sit in our Mews House, which is a carriage house with living quarters above.
19. Tomorrow is a Castle Tour and a walk along the Royal Mile.

Still looking for your “Mr. Darcy”? Anyone? If so, you can find him in Bath this summer at the Jane Austen Festival! I was vaguely aware that another of Bath’s claims to fame was the famous author, who set both Northanger Abbey and Persuasion here. According to Christina, our proprietress and breakfast cook, the festival is a big deal each September, and her B&B tends to fill up with ladies from all over the world looking to live as Jane did.

“Last year we hosted some ladies from Holland,” said Christina. “Oh, they were beautiful – tall and blonde, about my age (late 30’s) — ‘looking for their Mr. Darcy.’ At first, I thought they might just find him, until they came downstairs later all dressed up in their Georgian costumes. Then I thought, ‘Not gonna happen, ladies. English guys today, they aren’t the Mr. Darcy types.”

Apparently, festival attendees can arrive early and take dance lessons! They can also wear their very own Georgian costumes and parade down the streets of Bath.

After a rather large breakfast and before catching our train to Reading, we two paraded down the streets of Bath.

First, breakfast: As I surmised, we met Christina for the first time in the dining room, whereupon she showed us to a table and invited us to help ourselves to the breakfast buffet. We did.

Then, she brought us a whole French press and handed us menus for the English breakfast portion of our breakfast. Scrambled eggs, sausage and tomato for me; sunny-side-up eggs and bacon for Jim.

Our only other fellow houseguest was a lady from Singapore, so the four of us chatted a bit before we said thankyousoverymuch! and headed out. We strolled to a place called the “Royal Crescent”, private residences built between 1767-1774 by famous architect John Wood. It, as the literature says, is one of the “finest examples of Georgian architecture in the UK.”

By the way! Did you know (I did not) that “Georgian” is the same as “neoclassical” and originates from “the Georges”, as in the four kings: George I, II, III and IV? You’re welcome.

We liked the chimneys and the columns. And the flowers growing against the “Bath stone”:

And now we relax in our flat until it is time to wander to the mall area and find take-out for dinner. Jessica will be home in a few hours, and we will pack for Scotland.