We boarded the Queen Mary 2 in Southampton on Tuesday. From this massive ship, we watched the shores
of England recede from our view. The day
before, we bid farewell to our wonderful friends, Chris and Terry
Gradidge. They were the masterminds
behind our itinerary, acted as our tour guides, and were our daily travel
companions. We are so grateful for
everything they did, for all the memories collected and shared as a result of
this trip, and for their friendship.
In ten days we stayed in six towns and villages, and
explored many more in between. Of
course, we had to experience a little of London; but other places were on paths
less traveled… Those will perhaps be our favorite to recall.
From our hotel in Windsor, we walked across the Thames to
Eton (where Princes William and Henry went to school). The flag was flying at Windsor Castle, so we
knew we were sharing the town with Queen Elizabeth. Preparations for celebration of the Queen’s
Diamond Jubilee in June are underway everywhere.
In Woodstock we stayed at the MacDonald Bear Hotel and
walked to the grounds of Blenheim Castle, home of the Duke and Duchess of
Marlborough. Chris ably chauffeured us
through winding roads surrounded by hedgerows and filled with fields blooming
yellow with rape, to other small villages in the Cotswolds.
The Old Court Hotel in Symonds Yat West (near Ross-On-Wye)
provided dewy morning walks along the Wye.
We discovered an old chapel and the crypts of John Graves Simcoe and his
wife Elizabeth, who used to make their home in what is now the Old Court
Hotel. Wales was a quick drive
away. It was interesting to see public
signs there in both English and Welsh (a language that seems to need more
vowels).
Perhaps my favorite stop was Polperro, a small, picturesque
fishing village on the coast. We could
easily walk into town for a Cornish pasty and a pint along the river Pol. Walks along the ocean yielded incredible
views. My attempt to get a review of the
soup of the day from the barkeep at the Blue Peter was an amusing exchange that
I will always remember. (After a few
minutes of creative description, he admitted that he hadn’t tried it and
fetched me a taste.)
England’s New Forest is a national treasure. Its wildlife gazes peacefully among the small
villages and in its fields, protected by law.
We saw ponies, sheep, donkeys, pigs, and horses everywhere. What an amazing, fairytale environment!
Our journey ended in Southampton, a busy city and shipping
center. The White Star Tavern’s rooms
were modern and comfortable, and Cunard’s port was just a short taxi ride away.
Our England experience will be with me forever. My withdrawal from pub food is made easier
this week, as the Queen Mary has a pub on board. I’ll miss whitebait (tiny fried fish that you
dip in mayonnaise and eat whole) and beef or game pies. I can devise my own version of a ploughman’s
lunch for home, and learn to make chicken liver pate. For both, I need to find somewhere to buy the
ever-present English condiment – Branston’s.
Cheers to England, and the Gradidges.
Showing posts with label England. Show all posts
Showing posts with label England. Show all posts
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Storybook Village
I’ve been in Polperro, on England’s Cornish Coast, for about
a day and a half. It has all the
ingredients (beauty, history, and charm) that would make a great children’s
storybook.
The streets are crooked, narrow, and lined with stones. Buildings are centuries old, but whitewashed
clean, and have colorful window frames.
Shopkeepers sell Cornish pasties and fudge made with clotted cream. Friendly pubs dot each corner.
Polperro is a fishing village. You can enjoy fresh mussels, cockles,
scallops, crabs, and winkles sold by street purveyors, or in dishes served in
inns. In past centuries, if you weren’t a
fisherman, you were probably a smuggler.
Both vocations were filled by locals, and the local museum documents the
lives of many a Polperran who made their living side-by-side; legally and
illegally. The women stayed home and
knitted thick sweaters for their wayfaring men, or processed pilchards
(sardines). The collection of historic photographs
and letters on display is impressive.
Even some of the alcohol in the pubs seems fit for a
children’s story. A favorite in this
region is Scrumpy, an unfiltered strong apple cider. Me – I prefer the pear cider. It seems the
variety of locally-brewed ales is endless.
Pubs themselves are friendly gathering places, where the barkeeps know
their clients and will gratefully accept the offer of a pint for themselves.
The surrounding landscape is stunning, with the River Pol rushing
to the Atlantic Ocean through the center of town. Slate cliffs surround us. Peak Rock guards the entry to the
harbor. Footpaths wind around the cliffs
by the ocean and provide for bracing morning rambles by the sea. English wildflowers are tangled around the
paths and send their fragrances into the ocean air.
A woman we met in the Blue Peter Inn night before last asked
us not to spread the word about their idyllic little village, because they don’t
want to have it overrun by tourists. I
didn’t take offense.
I may never get a chance to return to Polperro, but I will
remember it as a storybook village.
Labels:
Cornish coast,
England,
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Laurel Bailey,
Polperro,
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Thursday, May 10, 2012
The English Pub
There once was a Yank named Laurel
With her waistband began to quarrelShe wondered the reason
Yet t’was travel season
And her fondness for pub food was royal.
We are discovering the wonders of the true English Pub. We’ve been to imitations in the U.S. – but they
are not the same animal at all.
![]() |
| The Royal Standard of England, in Buckinghamshire |
Order your pub lunch and a beverage at the bar, and
find a table in a cozy corner, near a fireplace to ward off the damp and
chill. Your meal will be delivered to
you, while you chat up your chums. Take
your time. Have a pint or two. I recommend the pear cider. While away the afternoon.
Well, I’m off for an English breakfast, with some
toast, poached eggs, cheese, and beans.
It’s time to begin planning today’s foray into the countryside and to
target our next pub lunch.
![]() |
| "Tasting" a pear cider and a local ale. |
Labels:
England,
haropulos,
Laurel Bailey,
pub,
travel
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