After 2 years of postponing a trip dedicated to John's introduction, and hopefully immersion, into his ancestry, we finally took action and crossed the pond. I say this was primarily for John, but who are we kidding? I'm a passionate anglophile and royalist, so my personal agenda was smeared all over our adventure. I'll own that.
This journey took us to so many fascinating places, it would make for a saga more than a blog post. So, I've decided to break it into three installments- Britain, Ireland, and Scotland.
London is twice the geographical size of New York City, and it would take me at least six months, exploring every day, eight hours a day, to discover all its charms and secrets. It's an ever-evolving town while holding on with pride to its history. I can't imagine anyone ever being bored in London.
We stayed at the stunning Park Plaza Westminster facing Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament squarely. We could see the iconic skyline from every window and glass wall in the ultra modern hotel. To add to the whimsy, it was one of a few hotels welcoming Wimbledon participants, and the decor incorporated a tennis motif.
Upon arriving, there wasn't much time to wallow on jet lag because we had tickets to Westminster Abbey. On my first trip to London, I missed it due to some clerical conference taking place that precluded tourist visits. I was not about to miss it this time. You hear about it, you read about it, you see it on TV, but to actually enter its doors and walk through it, you remain awestruck for a prolonged period of time. Whether it's the history, the architecture, or the spirituality, it will get you. You can't help but feel reverence for the Abbey in one way or another.  |
| Queen Elizabeth I |
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| High Altar |
For me, it brought up all the fee
lings. It is like no church I've ever visited. While accutely aware that it's the seat of Henry VIII's Anglican faith, the history contained in its memorials and 3000 tombs overwhelmed me. In addition to the famous and infamous of history, many areas of academia are honored—science, literature, music, nearly every area in which man has excelled is represented. And then there is the classic Gothic architecture with its pointed arches, ribbed vaulting, rose windows, and flying buttresses sumptuously displayed in its nave and radiating chapels.
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| Sir Isaac Newton |
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| Poets' Corner |
After an eight-hour flight and a few hours exploring the Abbey, we felt exhausted but accomplished and deserving of a classic English pub experience. Bar hopping would be an event on a whole other level in this world of pubs, but we're not hoppers, so we considered the endless choices, each beautiful and enticing, with baskets of hanging flowers and whimsical names, and many with respectable places in history. We picked St. Stephen's Tavern, established in 1875 and a favorite haunt of political notables, including Sir Winston Churchill, for it's proximity to the Houses of Parliament. Just a five minute walk from our hotel, a quick dinner in the right atmosphere, and the obvious, dare I say clichéd, choice of meal of Fish and Chips seemed a proper ending to our first day. There's a reason it's the most popular food in England. They know how to capture that natural flavor of cod with just the right seasoning, and the fries, or chips as they call them, are meaty on the inside with a crunchy exterior. And they're never skimpy on the portions.
Our first full day came with unusually bright sunshine and perfect temperatures in the mid 60s to 70s. We began with a trip to that Mecca of royalty, Windsor Castle. Queen Elizabeth's London digs date back to the 11th century. Built by William the Conqueror, it has been home to 39 monarchs. Buckingham Palace may be the office, but when Her Majesty wants to impress, she'll summon you to Windsor. The town of Windsor itself has a fairytale feel to it with its quaint boutiques, tea rooms, and ice cream shops.
That evening, we cruised the Thames. It's a sublime treat to catch the London skyline under a purple summer sunset at nearly 10:00 pm. And to end this glorious English summer day, dinner at The Nag's Head, a pub in posh Covent Garden, where we shared a table with people from India, Taiwan, and France. I've always said I'm a citizen of the world, and this dinner made me feel as such. The Nag's Head was built in the early 1800s, and it was originally patronized by the stable hands of the upscale homes that began to pop up in nearby Belgravia. Today, it's busy and quirky, particularly when you hear stories about its owner, Len Cole, who has been known to throw people out for talking on their cell phones or hanging their coats behind chairs rather than the hooks provided throughout the establishment. Oh, and also for ordering chips (unless it's with fish). No one seems to know why. Patrons find it most entertaining.
Pub food has undergone a transformation. It's no longer nuts and pickled eggs to go with your ale. In the 1970s, the menus began offering steak and chips, Shepherd's pie, and basket meals, and in the early 90s, pubs began to elevate their product to dishes carefully designed with quality ingredients comparable to the best restaurants.
This evening, our table ordered the ubiquitous fish and chips and the Steak and Ale pie, British beef braised with onions and ale presented in an elegant bread covering and served with potato mash and a subtle gravy. It was hearty, flavorful, and prepared with care.
The next day took us bright and early to Stonehenge, the most well-known prehistoric structure in Europe and a UNESCO World Heritage site dating back to the Neolithic age, between 4000 and 2500 BCE. Crows almost the size of chickens, their cawing echoing through Salisbury plain, a chilly mist, all add to the mysticism surrounding this remarkable monument believed to be an ancient temple aligned with what the builders believed to be the movements of the sun.
A chilly rain fell on us on our way out, so we stopped at the site cafeteria to dry out and for some ginger beer and the aptly named Stonehenge Rock Cakes, a rough-looking treat with a crunchy exterior but sweet and doughy inside.
The clouds parted, and the sun shone upon Bath, its resplendent abbey welcoming all to the largest city in the county of Somerset and named after its Roman baths. The baths were built between 60 and 70 AD, and consequently a settlement called Aquae Sulis emerged, now Bath. The structure is remarkably well preserved and includes four main features, the Great Bath, the Temple of Sulis Minerva, the Sacred Spring, and a museum.
After our time travel back to Roman times, we had a light lunch at The Cornish Bakery, twenty steps from the entrance to Bath Abbey. Something as mundane as lunch becomes sublime if in the presence of magnificence. I ordered a traditional Cornish cheese and onion pasty and a strawberry lemonade, and John had a bacon and cheese turnover with a Capuccino.
The next leg of our adventure took us into Cardiff, the capital and largest city in Wales (land of the dragon) and the eleventh largest city in the United Kingdom. Here, I met friendly people and learned about lovespoons, a Welsh tradition dating back 300 years and started by sailors who whould carve them from wood and present them as romantic gifts. And I discovered Cardiff Castle, a medieval beauty built in the eleventh century by Norman invaders on top of a Roman fort. We had a little time to sit in the courtyard and reflect on the splendor and drama of English history and enjoy the crisp weather before heading to Pembroke Dock for our crossing into Ireland on a feisty Irish Sea.
She said, "Welcome to Wales, we're glad you came to visit."
After our adventures in Ireland and Scotland (see two upcoming blogs), we reentered England by way of Stratford-Upon-Avon and York. Midway we took a little break at a rest stop, and I indulged in all the English snack items I could safely ingest—another lovely pasty, a bubblegummy, tutti-frutti, citrusy, cream soda called IRN BRU (no one has been able to properly describe its distinct flavor), and of course, some Cadbury chocolate. It was all worth the sugar rush.
Stratford is a small town yet well-known for its place in history and literature. It's the birthplace of the most famous writer in the world, without argument, William Shakespeare. Our first stop was the childhood home of Anne Hathaway, the Bard's wife, located about a mile and a half from Stratford proper, in a town called Shottery. It's a charming thatched cottage built as early as the mid-1400, surrounded by a colorful garden, and home to thirteen generations of Hathaways until 1911.
Before we paid a visit to Shakespeare's childhood home, we sat for afternoon tea, or Bailey's Hot Chocolate for me, at Benson's, just ten steps from the Bard's door. Think about it—scones, crumpets, clotted cream, and jam with a view of
William Shakespeare's house. You can't get more English than that.
We also made a stop at Hadrian's Wall, a fortification built between 122 and 128 AD to defend the Roman border in Brittania from "troublesome tribes to the north", meaning the Scots.
York is the historic county town in North Yorkshire. Founded in 71 AD, it was once the capital of a Roman province and later of the kingdom of Northumbria. The historic center of York is considered a conservation area and as such, a walk along its narrow streets within medieval walls takes you back in time. York Minster, one of the most breathtaking cathedrals in Europe, dates back to the seventh century and presides proudly over all of downtown York. One of the many narrow streets that crisscross the area is called The Shambles, and although you would think it appropriate by looking at its leaning and sagging buildings, the name actually comes from an old English term meaning something like "slaughterhouse" or "meat market". Some of the hooks where carcasses were hung can still be seen in some buildings.
For our last dinner in Britain at the Yorkshire Bar & Grill, I tried the delightful Haddock cake with poached egg and parsley velouté, as elegant in taste as in name, and the Yorkshire pudding with onion sauce. Always a British favorite, the onion sauce added flavor, moistness, and interest to this doughy treat.
We returned to the Park Plaza hotel in London as our English/ Welsh/ Irish/ Scottish romp came to an end, but I will continue reliving it in my next blog. See you in Ireland!
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| View from one of our room windows |
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