Wait, We're Staying in the Stables?

Our first hotel in England was nice, nothing special. I did have an issue with the shower, but that is another story. After several days there, we were ready for a change.

After leaving Oxford, we set off into the English countryside. After we stopped at Warwick Castle, dealt with the rain, we headed to our hotel, the Breadsall Priory.

The original priory was built in the 1200’s by Augustinian Canons, who were disbanded in 1535 one of the first religious houses shuttered during Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries.

Not being English, of for that matter Catholic, I thought the first residents were most likely monks.

According to the encyclopedia, they were “the first religious order of men in the Roman Catholic Church to combine clerical status with a full common life.” So maybe, sorta?

There is very little of the original building remaining, most of what exists today was built and remodeled several times in the last four hundred years. 

Our Hotel in Derbyshire

England is much different than the High Mojave Desert of Southern California where I live. The biggest difference is England is green, the HD is usually kind of brown. The reason England is so green is simple, it rains. And rains.

Don’t get me wrong, I like a little rain. And we were well prepared for the weather.

But there can be problems with three-hundred-year-old windows and rain. They leak. So there were some parts of the hotel that the carpets got a little wet. But the team handled it well.

We enjoyed the hotel, but the staff were the real stars.

Maybe we were the only American staying there, but by the second day, they knew who we were and they were able to anticipate our needs. 

Exterior of our room

After we returned home, I looked up the hotel’s history. One thing I found out; our room used to be part of the stables. I’m not sure if I should be offended. But I'm not.

Stonehenge

Our Trip to Stonehenge

Getting to the UK was a bit more of a trek than we had planned.

The thought was we would take two redeye flights spending one night in Boston along the way.

Because of a slight mistake in planning, we ended up not getting the good nights sleep we had planned.

Which is why we arrived at Heathrow a bit tired, well exhausted.

So, we put off the trip to Stonehenge for a couple of days.

Stonehenge is one of the locations that I instantly think of when I think of England.

Although Stonehenge makes the list of places that are not worth going, we enjoyed our trip there.

I thought it was worth the trip. 

We bought the English Heritage 9-day pass, well worth the cost.

Rolling Down the River

Before we left for our holiday in the United Kingdom, I made reservations for a boat tour of the headwaters of the Thames River in Oxford. The tour had an option for a “picnic lunch” which I thought was a good deal.

We got the river cruise idea from Pauline’s niece Kim. She spent quite a bit of time in Oxford on business and had some time to wander around and see some of the sights. We loved the pictures she posted of her river trip.

As we boarded our boat, those of us who opted for the lunch were seated in the front of the ship, where wicker picnic baskets and carafes of water waited. There were blankets to ward off the autumn breezes and they were passed out among the guests.

The couple nearest the bow were a British couple, most likely near their mid-sixties. Then Pauline and me. Next to us was a group of four, Megan - the Australian college student, her Auntie and Uncle and her Grandma. The remainder of the passengers were two British couples who seemed to be traveling together.

Our guide was a 30 something Brit, with mussed hair and a kind of scraggly beard, he had the appearance of a character in a “B” movie, as if central casting was looking to cast a struggling archaeologist - not like an Indiana Jones type but “a somewhat cheeky chap, over educated and underemployed. He was hoping to work at University but was forced to take the tour guide gig to survive.” Not sure what he said his name was, so we decided to name him Nigel.

As Nigel turned our boat down the river, he gave us our mandatory safety brief. Now, I understand that we share a “common” language with the Brits, but it’s sometimes a little difficult to make out what they are saying.

What I was able to ascertain from the safety brief - the main danger was fire, but our boat was electric, and we were surrounded by water, so we would most likely be ok, unless we were all killed by electric shock. Oh yeah, and the emergency exit was overboard - any direction was good.

We started along the riverway, past the stately brick homes lining the river.

As we approached the first bridge, I noticed the underside covered in the mandatory graffiti - which was actually quite well done.

We continued along thru the countryside; colorful long boats docked along either side of the waterway.

No one seemed to know when to open the picnic baskets, and Nigel wasn’t going to clue us in. Finally, Megan’s family (who I should point out were the only ones smart enough to bring a bottle of wine on the boat) opened their basket.

Once they broke the ice, everyone took a look to see what amazing gastronomic treats awaited us.

Now the couple at the bow, as soon as we got on board, asked if their basket was a vegetarian selection (which they had requested). It wasn’t, but it was corrected before we had left the dock.

We peered into our basket, which had quiche, scones with cream and jam, grapes and finger sandwiches. I started with the sandwiches. There was a butter, ham and cheese, something with a mustard base and what I thought was tuna.

I took the first bite of the “tuna,” and thought it seemed a bit fishy. Turns out it was a sardine sandwich. Not my favorite.

The others weren’t too bad.

As often happens, a shared dining experience allowed a dialogue to open between the passengers.

We approached the only lock we would travel thru, which gave the passengers something else to talk about.

After passing thru the lock, we continued past more brick industrial buildings and homes, until we reached a large open meadow.

Wandering happily in the meadow we first came upon a heard of horses, a few meters away cattle grazed peacefully. Oddly, they kept in separate groups, only one cow was seen wandering with the horses.

After we made the turn at the half-way point, we stopped and disembarked for a short visit to a local pub. Several of us got drinks, we ordered wine for the return trip.

Apparently even a short stop at the pub was all that was needed to remove any filters from some members of our little group.

On the way back, people started questioning Megan about her studies and what she was doing while on break. She explained that she was currently a matron at a private school and was in charge of 64 twelve-year-old boys.

She made the mistake of making a comment about how the local private schools took advantage of New Zealand and Australian girls to work in the private schools here.

She said that she only makes about 490 pounds a month. One of the British ladies took issue with her comment.

“So, you get 490 pounds spending money a month, let’s just call that 500 pounds.” She then pointed out that the school covered housing, meals, taxes, transportation, and just about every other living expense.

“Most people here don’t have 500 pounds a month just for spending cash,” she pointed out.

Megan took the lecture in stride and admitted that she really did have it pretty good.

The remainder of the trip was uneventful, except that I noticed that one of the passengers from the back of the boat had taken over navigation, and Nigel was just sitting there supervising.

We did make it back to dock in one piece, and the ship was none the worse for wear.

A Day In Oxford

After our turbulent trip to town, we arrived in the center of Oxford. We entered the address of the restaurant where we would start our boat tour of the head waters of the Thames River into our trusty Sprint phone.

Downtown Oxford

I only mention this because we just changed over to Sprint, and the navigation on the new phones has been less than exemplary. In fact, we have had trouble navigating the unexplored frontiers of Los Angeles and Hollywood. If I can’t depend on it for finding my way in the vast wilderness of LA, how could I depend on the phone to find a simple restaurant on foreign soil?

Long Boat on the River

We were able to find the Folly Restaurant easily and arrived over an hour before our tour.

We decided to take a walk along the river. It was a very nice walk. The river is lined with docked long boats, most looking like they haven’t moved in years, maybe longer.

The walkway was uncrowded we only occasionally were met by other casual walkers, however, we had to be on constant watch for bicyclists zipping up from behind. Most of the time, they were only inches away when we heard the buzz of the tires on the pavement.

Along the path were the boat houses of the Oxford rowing teams. None of the teams were practicing while we were there, so the entire area was quiet. 

The Head of the River Pub

After our walk, we still had time to kill, so we stopped into the Head of the River Pub. Had a nice room temp beer and watched a bit of the World Rugby Championships.

After a short walk we boarded the boat at the Folly Restaurant.

It was a great time, more in the next entry.

Getting to Oxford, Would We Ever Return, Would We Ever Return or Would Our Fate Remain Unlearned?

We awoke this morning to rain and immediately checked the forecast. It was supposed to clear up and be pretty nice after the morning showers let up.

We went across the street and had “a proper English breakfast” at the “Beefeater Restaurant,” but that’s another entry for another day.

Well fed, we headed off for the park and ride outside of Oxford.

From what I have read prior to arriving here, it’s OK to drive in the “country,” but the cities are best traveled by public transport. Something about leaving it to the professionals. 

We looked to our trusty nav system to find a park and ride near oxford. We got only one choice -Thornhill - which seemed a bit odd, because I know that there are at least five. However, I recognized the name, so obviously that was the one we needed.

I was wrong. We ended up driving thru Oxford to the far end of the town, passing at least two closer park and rides. If that wasn’t enough fun, the crazy woman in the SatNav decided that we needed to drive thru a residential area.

As we drove thru the very narrow streets, lined with parked cars, I was reminded of the fun of navigating thru Boston’s well laid out and carefully planned streets. We weaved and bobbed thru the crowded roads, Pauline digging her nails into the fantastic Naugahyde interior of our trusty Vauxhall motorcar.

We careened thru the town, like the knight bus in Harry Potter, finally arriving, not at the promised park and ride, but at the end of a very nice cul-de-sac of tenement houses. We reset the SatNav, but it still told us we had achieved our requested destination. I thought about knocking on a door and checking if the resident would give us a ride to the city center, but I thought better of it.

Turns out the park and ride was just behind the houses, but to get to it, we had to back-track for several miles.

We managed to find our way and park the car, then boarded the bus for downtown Oxford.

A street view of the City Center, Oxford, UK

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Whenever I plan a trip, I might go just a bit overboard. First, I draft a loose plan on where we want to go, what to do and maybe plan some of where we want to eat.

This trip is no different. I knew that we wanted to go to England and spend part of our time in New England with family.

The idea was to spend one night in Boston on the way out and about a week on the return trip.

Well, it’s been said that no plan survives contact with the enemy, and this plan was no different.

Because the trip included two red-eye flights, we somehow managed to cut out the overnight stay in Boston. The result was we were up for almost 48 hours.

Needless to say, when we arrived at Heathrow airport, a full two days after leaving LAX, we were both beat.

Plans went to the wind, and we went to the hotel, checked in, found dinner and went to the room to pass-out.

We ate at the restaurant across the street, basically a modern English version of the Howard Johnson chain.

I had a steak, not the best steak ever, but totally passable.

Tomorrow, we head to Oxford for a river cruise.

No Time Like the Present

Way back in November 2010, I wrote a post about going back to my daughter's high school to visit one of her teachers. While in high school, she spent a lot of time in the ceramics class room.

My daughters boyfriend came with us, he was thinking he could build her something that would work for throwing pottery. We went looking for advice.

We already had a kiln, which my mother had given to her, but had never fired it up.

Her boyfriend looked into purchasing a wheel, and decided that was the way to go. She made a couple of vases and bowls, but never fired them.

Nine years later, she, and her now husband, finally fired up the kiln. It hasn't been turned on in probably 20 years, but seems to still work like a champ.

It's funny how we often put things off. We may have all the tools, time and resources to do something we might actually enjoy, but find reasons to not do it today.

Tomorrow it will be easier, we tell ourselves. We'll have more money, the timing will be better. It will somehow be more convenient. But sometimes we wait too long. Too many people spend their later years regretting the things they should have done.

Like many other people, I have a long list of things I want to do. Most of them I've put off for way too long.

It's time to get at it. Maybe I'll even try my hand at throwing clay.