The City of London

Friday, August 14, 2009 - Is it possible to match the wonder and excitement of the days that have so far characterized our trip? Today proved that it was! Our friends Lyn and Steve are arranging a tour of London for us. Steve will drive us to the city in his classy black London cab (much bigger and cleaner and far more handsome than American taxis). There is NO ONE who knows the city better than he, and past fares like Michael Caine, Richard Branson, and Tina Turner will attest to that. All showed themselves to be wonderful people. But Steve must report to work. As Donna and Ed’s family say when they are in the Adirondacks: “Not all of us here are on vacation!” He’ll take us to London and drop us off.

We drive south to the city. First we sight the “Millennium Dome”, its huge, canvas-like roof seemingly suspended from giant gold pole-like girders poking through its perimeter. Downriver, we spy the “Millennium Eye”, a gigantic Ferris wheel that sits along the Thames River near city center. We pass through an enormous area of great cranes and earth-moving equipment. Piles of dirt seem to blot out the sky, and not far away, a stadium is taking shape, looking like a child’s string “cats cradle”. London is obviously well-along in its preparations for the 2012 Olympics. Even in its “raw” state, it is incredibly impressive.

Our drive continues. We pass through “Whitechapel”, the lair of Jack the Ripper a century-and-a-quarter ago, still a neighborhood of narrow streets, crime, and poverty. We also pass the ancient London Hospital where the “Elephant Man” lived, still in operation though very much outdated. Steve deposits the three of us next to the Houses of Parliament and regretfully leaves. But we are lucky. Our wonderful friend, his wife Lyn, remains with us, and ensures that our day is an incredible one. It will be impossible to repay her for all she has done.

First we enjoy a coffee and scone at a tiny shop across the street. It is here we are immediately corrected. Big Ben is the BELL. It is mounted in St. Steven’s Tower, the Parliament landmark. We feel we now have special knowledge that few tourists have!
Our cameras at the ready, we step to the bridge and snap some photos of the Thames and the famed buildings that border it. Then, re-passing what is now our favorite coffee shop, we turn and walk up the avenue to the seat of power, Downing Street. Though tourists are understandably prevented from entering, Ed gets snapped at the gate, with the Prime Minister’s home, Number 10, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer’s home, Number 11, in the background. It’s fairly quiet. European governments and businesses typically break for vacation in August. We continue walking past Winston Churchill’s “War Rooms” where he bunkered down and orchestrated Allied strategies.

Returning to the corner, we view St. Margaret’s, the “official” church of Parliament. Looming behind it is Westminster Abbey, an enormous cathedral. The admission price is a stiff fourteen pounds, and we hesitate, wondering if it will be worth it. It was. It would have been a serious mistake not to have entered, and it was worth a HUNDRED and fourteen pounds!

Colchester Castle

Thursday, August 13, 2009 – Today we decide to take the bus to Colchester, because there is a train strike today in East Anglia. The trip takes us through many villages, and I am able to show Ed all of my old haunts. The bus travels past the house where I lived, along with grocery stores, banks, pubs, and Rickstones School where I used to work. We were enjoying the ride when the bus broke down halfway through our trip in Witham where I used to work. The stop over enabled me to shop in my old favorite stores and charity shops (bought a lovely linen skirt for 2 pounds!) and live my “Deja-vu” experience. A new bus picked us up, and 3 ½ hours later we arrived at Colchester!

Colchester was the effective capital of south-east England when the Romans invaded in AD 45 and established the first permanent Roman colony. You can still see the Roman walls and surviving town gate – the largest in Britain. During the Middle Ages, Colchester developed into an important weaving and clock making centre. You can still see the original tall houses and steep narrow streets from the Flemish weavers who settled here in the 16th century. Colchester was besieged for 11 weeks during the English Civil War, before being captured by Cromwell’s troops. We quickly dine at a French café along the main street, and walk to the Colchester Castle Museum. This castle is the oldest and largest Norman keep still standing in England. It was built in 1076 on the platform of a Roman temple dedicated to Claudius, using stones and tiles from other Roman buildings. We strolled through the well tended and colorful manicured gardens spanning acres of green pastures, flowers and a pond behind the castle. Our bus trip home was much faster – and we were soon relaxing in Lyn and Steve’s back garden with a cold beverage.

Traveling from Merseyside to Essex

Wednesday, August 12, 2009 - Sadly, it is time to leave the north of England. Our friends Julie and Stewart provided for some unforgettable days in Liverpool and Chester, and we hate to depart. But we catch a break! They are driving south to Dover and the Channel coast, and crossing to France for a vacation (or “holiday” as it’s called here). They offer to drive us directly to Writtle! British trains are nice, but they are also expensive. Julie and Stewart have saved us quite a sum. What’s more, we get some wonderful conversation, and lots of commentary on the culture and history of the locales through which we pass. No railroad provides that!

Julie rustles up a nifty breakfast to get us off to a good start. Next to our plates we find an envelope that obviously contains a greeting card. Surprise! We had been enjoying our stay so much we had forgotten our fourteenth anniversary! Shortly, we pile into their vehicle and commence our journey south. Just outside of Liverpool, the cell phone rings. A call from America. One immediately thinks an emergency. Not this time. First comes the obligatory anniversary wishes. Seconds later, Ed learns that his daughter is going to make him a grandfather for the first time! A wonderful day. But wasn’t my daughter still in elementary school? Where did the time go? How could this be? Incredible news, and a memorable day.

We merge onto an “M” road, the first ever in Britain, the equivalent of an interstate highway in America (by the way, why are there interstate highways in Alaska and Hawaii?). We sail through the rolling English countryside, filled with charming hedgerows and sheep. We pass the famed battlefield at Naseby, from the 1640’s and the English Civil War. Unlike many American battlefields: no traffic, tourists, souvenir hawkers, or modern businesses. It remains as Cromwell would have seen it. Apparently the same for another battlefield nearby. This one is Bosworth, even older, where Henry Tudor defeated Richard at the end of the War of the Roses (which name is a Shakespearean invention), and became Harry VII. Englishmen far away didn’t have to wait days or weeks to learn of this famous victory. The eccentric English version of Nostrodomus, the peasant Robert Nixon, re-enacted this battle then in real time during a sudden fit while hoeing a field, and declared Henry the winner before even Henry knew!

We arrive in Writtle after a long drive. Loyal “Scotsmen” like Julie and Stewart seem surprised and feign chagrin when they are told that they are now in the birthplace of Robert the Bruce. We all pay homage to the great Scottish patriot. The home of heather and the Enlightenment of the eighteenth century is added to our list of future attractions. What’s more, Stewart has given us some incredible tutoring on and sampling of Scotch whiskey, and greatly expands our appreciation of that wonderful potion. The peat and water of Old Caledonia, we find, plays a big role in the production of this venerable drink. We will never be able to repay Stewart adequately for this fascinating session.

Later that evening, we walk a half-mile to the center of Writtle to the “Rose and Crown,” a wonderful pub. Its ham, eggs, and “chips” (French fries) are locally famous, and “nuff said” about its special collection of English beers. There we meet our longtime friend Jenny Gratze, whose Fulbright exchange with Donna in 1992 prompted all that has come after. It was great to see her, talk over old times, and bring each other up-to-date on events. Jenny will be leaving in a few days for a one-to-two year teaching post in Qatar, in the Persian Gulf. They will love Jenny as America did! Back to the home of our good friends Steve and Lyn for a couple of drinks, and a night of sleep. It is good to see them again. And it has been a wonderful day.