Visiting the UK: Part Three

The next day, after A's boys were safely off at their schools and I had a lie in (8:30 UK time, 5:30 according to my body), A and I headed off to Shrewsbury and its gorgeous streets.

There were alleys and timber framed Tudor styled buildings bearing ancient names such as Grope Lane. There are a variety of theories as to the origin of the name 'Grope Lane' two of which are 1) the alley being narrow and dark in medieval times so you would have to 'grope'  your way along it and 2) that it was a street where prostitutes would advertise their wares. 

As you can see, Shrewsbury is certainly worth visiting if you are in this area of Shropshire and not just because of the fancy street names.

I love the types of details that only seem to be found in old buildings nowadays. The scrollwork on these windows is striking.

Too bad the owners weren't hosting an open house so we could have seen these windows from the inside with the light glowing through them.

While I was taking a picture of this house, a lovely and knowledgeable lady stopped to comment on the building's striking architecture and how it used to be used by the City Council. Sadly, the Council has moved onto more 'modern' buildings. Can you imagine going to work in this building every morning?

More pictures looking from the main road into wee alleys and gardens as well as along the main streets...

We also managed to visit Shrewsbury Abbey which was a bit of a highlight for me as the Brother Cadfael mysteries are based from this Abbey. As you can see below, the Abbey is a beautiful structure and place of worship. The Lady Chapel, which I neglected to photograph, is equally stunning. I often find that I prefer Lady Chapels in large places of worship probably because they are smaller and more intimate.

I took this photograph to inspire myself with the quality of the embroidery. It's a pipe dream of mine to eventually take an embroidery course(s) from the Royal School of Needlework during a UK visit. Isn't it striking?

This is just one of the stunning windows surrounding the Abbey. This one caught my eye as it is about a female saint, Saint Winifred. The legend under the window said that she was becoming a nun but was almost raped by a man named Caradoc. She fought back and was decapitated by him. Her head rolled to her Uncle, Saint Beuno, who placed her head back on her body and she was healed, forever marked by a circular scar around her neck. After his attack, Caradoc's body was absorbed into the ground and he was never seen again. Shivers.

Another details from outside a shop window.

Happily, A and I found The Lion Hotel and treated ourselves to an Afternoon Tea for a very reasonable price. Sadly, my pictures of the tea itself came out too blurry to use here but I think you can get a sense from these pictures that we had fun! Cucumber and smoked salmon sandwiches, to name a few, cakes and, my favourite, clotted cream with scones and jam. Can you say 'Yum'???

Isn't she gorgeous?

Yum!

After our tea and a brief walk along the river, A brought me through The Quarry, a gorgeous garden in a former - ahem - quarry. Why doesn't my back yard look like this? Inspirational for sure.

I love this wagon feature!

I have many, many more pictures of this gorgeous city but decided that you might want to do something else today;)! Before I go, here is the progress I was then making my sock, ready to start the heel then turn it. Too bad I had to do that four times over the course of my holiday before I got it right!

Visiting the UK: Part Two

In case you didn't notice yesterday, the answer to one of my quiz questions from Five on Friday was regarding the picture of the painted wooden bird from the Ashmolean Museum where we visited the Egyptian displays.

***

After a great nights sleep for me and a poor night for everyone else, A and I headed to the surrounding area of Oxfordshire before our commute back to her place in Shropshire. As I'd mentioned, A was my tour guide for the week and she suggested we visit Blenheim Palace. I happily agreed. I love visiting heritage homes and grand estates and was sure Blenheim would provide.

And provide it did. 

Blenheim Palace is opulent in every sense of the word.

It is filled to the top with gorgeously carved columns and arches, paintings on ceilings, crystal in chandeliers, tapestries, orchids and the list goes on.

Clocks that were more works of art than keepers of time were in one of the drawing rooms. This clock was one of two. From eavesdropping on another guest to Blenheim I learned that 'drawing' room comes from the word 'withdrawing' room referring to the time after a meal when the women would 'withdraw' to another room away from the men who were left to their cigars and alcohol. Over time, the word was reduced to 'drawing' room.

This gorgeous cradle stood out for me. Lovely gold leaf and paintings. Hopefully you can read the story behind the cradle if you click on the image of the information board.

The library of my dreams is at Blenheim - though mine wouldn't be pink. I think I could put up with the pink if it came wrapped in the Blenheim Palace package though!

I took the following picture for my eight year old. Eldest caught two fish this past weekend and he is too is eight years old.

Sir Winston Churchill was born in Blenheim Palace two months premature whilst his parent were attending a dinner party. The poor child's parents had to borrow clothes from someone in the local village as they were ill prepared for such an early arrival!

I have long admired Winston Churchill and particularly his work and speeches made during WWII. What I didn't realize, however, was what a hopeless romantic he was. He proposed to his beloved, Clementine Hozier, on the grounds of Blenheim Palace in the Temple of Diana. I love the following quote by him:

Even if I had never felt highly towards the man, Winston Churchill now holds an even more special place in my heart.

A and I ate at one of the three or four eating establishments on the Palace grounds. We opted for a sandwich and tea lunch versus a sit down and relatively pricey meal at the restaurant. This little sweetie launched itself at my plate and I was forced to eat it. Yes, it was as good as it looks. Maybe even better.

The 8th Duke of Marlborough, also known as the 'Wicked Duke', had a passion for scientific experiments and orchids and the flowers were scattered in displays around the Palace and in the cafe.

Stunning from the front, Blenheim is equally majestic from the back where A and I went for a walk through the gardens. We were looking for the formal gardens which we did not manage to find before we had to depart but I did get a chance to run my feet through that amazingly manicured lawn.

All in all, my second day in the UK was a wonderful one and I really enjoyed visiting this impressive World Heritage Site.

***

Did you notice it? The answer to the author of the quote in my quiz photograph is Sir Winston Churchill.

Heading Over to and Hanging Out in the UK

We woke up to this the morning I left for the UK. Ugh. Friday the thirteenth indeed.

Not an auspicious start. The day felt a bit surreal. As my flight didn't leave until after the boys were in bed, I did all of my usual day to day things. The boys had the day off from school so they played inside while I finished packing and doing laundry. I cleaned the main bathroom and puttered around the house. By early afternoon I was more than ready to pack up and head to the airport and just wait around there. The anticipation was killing me!

During the day I also sat and knit a bit more on a newly cast on sock so that the knitting on the plane, provided I didn't lose my needles at airport security, would be straight forward. I was determined to have a travelling sock for this trip.

Security was fine with my knitting needles so I knit for an hour and a half in the terminal whilst waiting for my airplane to depart. Knitting is a great way to hide your people watching tendencies and I smiled while watching a family chase their youngest daughter all over the terminal while they were on a lay over from another airport. It was quite late by this time - 11:00 PM NL time - and the children were on their second wind and way over tired. And I didn't have responsibility for either of them. Heaven!

I knit on the plane after a couple of hours of sleep. Excitement and the bright sunlight streaming through the windows convinced me that knitting was going to be more conducive to my state of mind than sleeping. I did have an eye cover which I used for the first part of the trip but I hit the point where I simply could not force myself to sleep any longer.

After an uneventful flight, I walked from Gatwick's North terminal to the South terminal via a shuttle and into the train station. I'd purchased my tickets a few weeks in advance to take advantage of cheaper rates with British Rail so, together with my credit card for ID purposes and a confirmation number, I got myself a one way ticket to Oxford where I met up with my friend, A, my tour guide and host for the week.

It was great to see A at the YHA Youth Hostel in Oxford where we stayed the night. We had not seen each other in almost two years. It was wonderful to be able to start up where we'd left off which is something I find you can only do with your truest friends.

I would highly recommend the Youth Hostel as a place to stay in Oxford (for some reason I didn't get a picture of the exterior or interior). Reasonable rates at 25GBP a night per bunk, clean and a reasonably priced breakfast. It caters to all age groups so we didn't feel out of place in the least. We shared a room with four other bunks - two of the ladies (girls from Truro, Nova Scotia as it turned out) we got to meet and the other two crept in after we were asleep and crept out again before we woke up. Well, before I woke up. Sadly, I have a snoring problem which negatively influenced my room mates enough that they did not have a good night sleep At. All. Lucky for A, I was sleeping in another room at her place. Lucky for me, I wouldn't be seeing those young Canadian tourists ever again. Or, so I thought.

One of the college greens. The grass doesn't even look real but it was.

Oxford is just a lovely city. A told me that there were some rough parts of town like any city but we were lucky to see no evidence of that. The only downfall of Oxford was the particular weekend we visited as it was graduation weekend for Oxford students and many buildings and Colleges were closed to tourists due to private parties and general graduation festivities. I was disappointed not to get to visit the Bodleian Library (very disappointed but that just means another trip to Oxford is in order) but we did visit the Ashmolean Museum and enjoy some of the fantastic displays such as the Egypt section.

Dung beetle.

One of four birds at the corner of a mummy's casket.
Just look at the rich pigments that have remained!

We were lucky enough to have time just to wander the streets of Oxford and wander we did. A's pedometer indicated that we walked over 23,000 steps that day! We did stop for nourishment when we got tired. This lovely pub was quite modern inside and treated us to an afternoon snack to keep us going.

I reveled in the shear "Britishness" of Oxford. I love England, Scotland and Wales and Oxford was like a healing balm to my soul.

Somewhere around walking along the river, my camera began to give me trouble and refused to take any pictures. Luckily, I had my iPhone with me and fully charged (incredibly considering I'd left my charger back home in Newfoundland) so I continued with that. Frustrating though. Once at The Red Lion, I managed to reset my settings and the camera restored itself into my good books. This did mean that we re-traced some of our steps around Oxford so that I could capture the city with my good camera proving that A is not just a great friend but truly patient as well!

River near Christchurch.

I could not get over how far ahead into Spring the UK is compared to us. The trees looked practically fluffy with their fresh green leaves compared to the barely there buds we are seeing at home.

Roses in abundance whereas my tulips haven't even flowered yet!

I could come home to this door everyday.

This caught the Morris-phyle section of my heart.

Though tired, our feet continued walking. The gate below is one of the pictures I took when we re-traced our steps.

After some time and after checking out several restaurants and pubs, we finally decided to go back to Jamie's (Oliver) Italian restaurant that we had passed earlier in the day. I had some great meals in the UK but this meal was by far my favourite.

This ravioli and pesto was to die for!

And this non-alcoholic drink was equally delicious. The only thing we didn't have there was pudding (dessert) as we'd kind of done that already at The Red Lion earlier in the day.

After a thrilling and exhausting day, we headed back to the hostel where we charged our various electronic devices and my poor roommates were treated to the sound of my eloquent snores. A fantastic day all in all for me if not so much a good night for them!