To England: Shakespeare's Stratford

After my misadventure of a day in Oxford/Blenheim (in preceding post), I ran into more travel snags getting to Stratford-Upon-Avon. I had to take the train through Banbury, but when I got to Banbury, there was no longer a train to Stratford. I was told to go to Leamington Spa and they would get me a taxi from there--but the next train to Leamington Spa was very delayed.

WELL. By the time I finally made it, I was more than ready for a relaxing time, which is exactly what I got in Stratford-Upon-Avon. I spent an evening and one full day there and that was plenty to see just about everything I wanted. Had a great meal and my first Pimm's the first night, in the lovely Old Thatch Tavern.

Woke up early the next day to see Shakespeare's birthplace. Lots of tourists, little emotion. I also felt like it was poorly explained: I spent most of my time in a fog of confusion trying to remember if this was his actual birthplace or reconstructed or just what was going on? Thanks for no explanations?

I did get to see my first First Folio which was exciting.

Went back that evening to get a photo without tourists clogging up the facade. The smell of Subway a few doors down still hung in the air, though...

That site was BUSY so I was kind of shocked how nicely empty the other places around town were.

I visited the church where Shakespeare is buried.

What a human.

Then I went to Hall's Croft, where Shakespeare's daughter Susana lived with her doctor husband. That was my favorite because it was the most like a proper house and actually explained things to me.

After that, I popped in to Nash's House and New Place. Nash's House belonged to Shakespeare's granddaughter and husband, and New Place is the site of the giant house Shakespeare bought after he made some money, sadly torn down by some dude who was tired of tourists (I can only half blame him). Not a ton to see there.

Later in the day I went to Anne Hathaway's Cottage (above) (Shakespeare's wife's family home), which was a nice mile-or-so walk across a neighborhood and through a park. Fun tippy stone floors and thatched roof and also a garden and woods. Large.

The only one I missed was Mary Arden's Farm (Shakespeare's mother), because it was a bit out of town. I'd do the day again and rent a bike to get there, for sure. I could've done it all except I went back for a nap in the afternoon. (I do vacations right, people)

One of my favorite things about Stratford--besides the slow, easy pace and the quiet evenings after the tourists went home--was the mix of centuries. 21st century storefronts set into 15th century half-timbered uppers. I thought about the way that this isn't Williamsburg, preserved for all time and static, but a place people have actually been living and using and leaving their mark for hundreds of years. The mix of centuries makes it feel lived in and, perhaps ironically, makes it easier for me ti imagine life in the past, when people were living vibrantly and feeling modern for their age, maybe feeling like the timbering was new-fangled and therefore ugly.

I also LOVED my B&B. I love staying in single rooms because they are just the perfect size for one little traveler like me with one little bag like mine. So cozy. The owner was a fast-talking Frenchman and he made everyone feel right at home and did his best to get us all interacting, which is much appreciated by a solo traveler. I lingered over breakfast on my full day there, talking to a lovely family of Swedes about IKEA and Swedish food and Minnesota and I don't even know what all else.

Preceding entry explains about my day between Stratford and London. In leaving Stratford, I felt daunted by the prospect of entering London but I soon found a good home there.

To England: Side Trips, Part One

I had a few days built into my schedule as sightseeing days en route to my next destination. This got a bit complicated as I was always weighed down with my backpack--no matter how light I tried to pack, there is something unpleasant about running around loaded down, so finding a place to leave it is a must. Still, more challenging is time management, especially when trying to string a few sites together at the whim of bus amd train schedules.

Trip one, between Bath and Stratford-Upon-Avon: Oxford and Blenheim Palace

Easily the most disappointing/frustrating day of my trip. I made it to Oxford a bit behind schedule thanks to the trains. Was able to leave my luggage at a hostel by the train station for a few pounds. The next bus to Blenheim wasn't for awhile so I decided to see a bit of Oxford first--mistake. I should've waited for the Blenheim bus and done Oxford after.

I bought a walking tour map of Oxford but was barely able to complete the one small loop, while moving at breakneck speed, before the later Blenheim bus I'd picked out.

Proof I was actually in Oxford. 

Blenheim was a disappointment. It just didn't seem that great to me. Palaces/manor houses aren't really my speed (to make a sweeping statement, history and architecture generally bore me between like 1650-1939) and I thought this one would be SO great I'd enjoy it but I just didn't. An EXPENSIVE bust.

Also, annoyingly difficult to take a half-decent photo of. 

Bustled back to Oxford and ended up sitting in the train station for about an hour before my train, too tired/short on time to see anything else.

Not a good day. Learned a ton of lessons though. Next time, I'd spend more time in Oxford and skip Blenheim completely. I'd still like to go back to Oxford.

Trip Two, between Stratford-Upon-Avon and London: Warwick, Kenilworth, and Coventry

This day was better. I was a bit nervous about touting my backpack around all day but it wasn't too horrible.

I started out on a bus to Warwick Castle, where I was able to store my bag in a locker.

 I was expecting Warwick Castle to be Disneyland'ish, and it was.

But it managed to not be completely void of character and it had some great ramparts walks.

After that, I took a bus to Kenilworth, then walked around the town with my backpack a ton, trying to get to the castle.

Was it worth the giant uphill climb under backpack duress?

Yes. (Especially after I left my backpack behind the counter at the visitor's center...) I could've stayed there all day taking photos.

Besides the beauty of the place, it was once home to Robert Dudley, lover of Queen Elizabeth.

Which is the type of history right up my alley.

Finally, I took the train to Coventry and just managed a quick poke around the bombed out cathedral (WWII damage) before it closed.

After dinner, I took an evening train into London for my adventures there!

To England: Henges, Thatch, and Cats

I took a bus tour one day, in order to visit Stonehenge, Avebury, and the villages Lacock and Castle Combe. 

Yes, yes: a bus tour. But it's not what you're thinking! It felt a lot like traveling with my Uncle Wayne: skinny back roads (even in a midsized van), silly commentary, and off-the-tourist-path sights. 

Stonehenge was first. I think it has improved in recent years, having heard horror stories of what it used to be like. However, it was SO crowded. 

Miraculous photo in which you can almost not see people...almost. 

A bit underwhelming, though not exactly disappointing: much smaller and gray-er than I was expecting. Still interesting though. 

Honestly, even to me, my pictures of it are more interesting than my memories of it...

Then we went to Avebury and unfortunately hardly had any time at all. Avebury was MORE impressive than I was expecting--not as much for the circumference of the circle (though impressive) as for the SIZE of the rocks which I'd pictured as much smaller. 

I would've spent all afternoon standing about in the field with the rocks.

And the sheep.

Then, on to Lacock village for lunch. Lacock was full of thatched roofs and half timbers. 

Disclaimer: yes, I know this is not thatch. Trust me when I say we saw a TON. 

And one lazy cat. 

Castle Combe which was a street, where all the highly rich hang out. I did not really manage a picture of the town, I guess. 

Just the church, and one hunting cat. 

All in all, a fabulous day. I walked away from the bus back in Bath with a huge grin on my face!

To England: Bath Battles

Okay, I had no battles in Bath--other than traffic from all directions, my calves screaming on the hills, and, coupled with the other two: getting lost!

Bath reminds me of Toledo, Spain: I think it's the unity of building materials, teeny roads and one way traffic, confusing layout, and tourists, tourists, tourists. It is nice after 5-6 pm after most of the tourists leave (but most of the shops and sights close too). 

I took the free walking tour my first night which was a great way to pass an evening and a fabulous introduction to both the history and the street layout. It was long, though, and I was exhausted from my travels. 

The Roman Baths were interesting and made better by the Bill Bryson soundclips included in the included audio tour, which was necessary since there were few signs. I didn't like having to listen to all the information instead of being able to read/skim information as I chose, but the Bryson clips were great fun. Not so much amusing as insightful, but he helped bring it alive (they should've been snort-out-loud hilarious as Bryson often is in order to make a fool of yourself giggling in public). The gorgon head was definitely a highlight. 

(Not the gorgon head)

The Abbey itself was a bit dull--although it was terribly amusing to see it done up in Anglican style like the churches I grew up in, instead of like the other giant churches I've been to, all in Catholic Spain. The tower tour, however, was incredible! We went up windy, narrow, black staircases, across roofs, and behind the scenes. We peeked in on the bell ropes and mechanisms for ringing the bells, the other side of the vaulted ceiling, and the backside of the clock. Then, more stairs to the bells themselves (nicely timed so they were struck while we were up there) before finally climbing to the roof of the tower. On the way back down, we stood IN the famous façade and hopefully messed up a few photographs, unnoticed until everyone goes home! 

(Clock workings)

Other Bath highlights include the hanging loos and Pulteney Bridge. 

(Two loos-count 'em!)

To Wales: Welsh Wayfarer Woes

I was supposed to get on a train in Bath with a stop in Bristol before my stop, Newport, and continuing on to Cardiff. From Newport, there was another train for Chepstow. Maybe not eyes-closed easy, but certainly no strain.

However! When I got to Bristol my train was canceled, ALL the trains through Newport were canceleled, in fact. I ran around the Bristol station like an idiot for a long time, until finally the information desk told me to get in a taxi and go to X station (they'd pay) and they'd provide coaches from there. 

Said station was really really far away and in Middle-of-Nowhere, Wales and there were no buses or trains or any thing except confused people arriving in fours in bright blue taxis from Bristol. 

Luckily the people who'd shared my cab were quite nice and I was glad not to be alone on my adventure. It was fun to talk to English people. They sussed me out as American straight away but I guess there's no hiding it. I enjoyed their mix of overdeprecation and optimism, and I almost busted out laughing when one of them was like, "at least it's a nice day, at least it's not tipping!" (raining) They ticked all the stereotypes.

We waited around like 40 minutes and finally I realized I could probably go straight to Chepstow from Middle-of-Nowhere, and luckily I realized that mere minutes before that train pulled in, so I said goodbye to my new friends and hopped on it. (FUNNILY ENOUGH I saw one of them in Bristol on the way back and found out they'd made it: the advertised Cardiff train was like ten minutes late.)

It would've been better to just have stayed in Bristol and waited for the train issue to clear.

The funniest part is I ended up only like thirty minutes behind schedule somehow. (This messed up my plan anyway, but still, quite impressive turn of events)

Chepstow Castle was incredible. (I was rushing through it a bit, unfortunately. I was still trying to catch the earlier bus to Tintern Abbey before I finally gave up on that and just took the later one.) I recently read Life in a Medieval Castle by Frances Gies, which mentions a whole bunch of castles but mainly focuses on Chepstow. It's along the river and quite long but skinny, with lots of additions from different eras. 

I traveled to Tintern on a bus. Tintern was just stunning. Every angle was staggering and it made me want to walk around both inside and outside, clockwise and counterclockwise because there was constantly a new view. It was challenging to take photos--first of all, because it was too gorgeous and secondly because I was constantly contending with harsh sunlight, backlighting, clouds, or a combination. Quite the best type of challenge though: take lots of photos and some of them have to turn out!

The bus back to Chepstow was okay, but I was disappointed on seeing that the next train was not for 45 minutes, which didn't leave time to see more sights like I had planned. 

Finally had a travel win at the end of the day. From Newport, I realized I could take an earlier train back to Bristol and make my own change to Bath instead of waiting for the one that went all the way to Bath--made it thirty minutes ahead of that train, which was the additional wait for it--finally beat the train game!!!

To England: Packing

I've spent the past several months reading endless packing lists. Finally, here is mine....

Electronics

Ipad and charger

Kindle and charger

Ipod, headphones, charger

Two adapters

SD to ipad converter

Camera, battery charger, extra battery

Extra SD card

Other

Travel documents (not pictured but I have a big manila envelope)

Notebooks

Notepad

Guidebook

Pens, pencils, etc

compass (orange circle)

sewing kit (orange square)

spork

headlamp

lock

towel

clothesline

Woolite wash packets

Tide-to-go

earplugs

extra pair of glasses

wet wipes

bracelet, watch, two pairs of earrings (not pictured 'cause I'm wearing them)

Toiletries

hair stuff (including travel brush, comb, hairpins, two headbands)

face wash

soap

shampoo

conditioner

medicine (pepto bismol, advil, benadryl, cold medicine, and birth control)

neosporin

bandaids

liquid bandage

toothpaste

toothbrush

floss

nail clippers

chapstick

sun lotion

Clothing
three tank tops (blue (not pictured), black, green)
two short sleeve tops (gray, red)
one long sleeved top (blue stripey)
purple shirt for sleeping
sweatshirt
long leggings
capri leggings
blue khakis
sleep pants
black skirt
3 undies
2 bras
3 pairs of socks
hat
sunglasses
bandanna
flip flops
flats
sneakers

Other
wallet
passport
umbrella
jacket (zipped up into its pocket)
fold up grocery bag
water bottle
rain cover
full backpack
day pack
purse

...the mess shortly before bringing it all together...

...and my stuff all ready to go out the door.

And me with it!

from Pittsburgh to Minnesota to...England, this time.

(typed up from the first entry in my trip diary)

I'm leaving in about two weeks and it feels a bit sacrilegious to start writing in my journal before I'm on my way...but really the mental journey of this trip started a long time ago, which, funnily enough, is exactly what I came to say.

I've been thinking a lot about Spain and how my brain can't get used to "going to Europe" not involving Spain. I've been bemoaning a bit (but not ungratefully) because I love Spain so much and can never get enough. But I had a sitdown with myself to try to refocus on why--the last time I left Spain--I promised myself I was going to England the next time I crossed an ocean (and not just because of the Olympics which were ongoing then).

Because long before I learned Spanish and fell in love with some silly tennis players and jumped at the chance(s) to visit the land that really inspired my serious study of the language--I got my hair cut like Lucy Pevensie (BBC version, aged 4-7?), a younger sister whose unbelieved and unacredited imagination I identified with so strongly (uncharitably casting my brother as Edward, who makes her out to be a liar).

I devoured the story of Anne Boleyn (4th grade project) whose tale was just gruesome enough to fascinate me, and whose character was just real enough to inspire me: laughing in the face of death! strawberry mole on neck! defiant! I followed that with Lady Jane Grey and Elizabeth I, but my middle namesake Anne was always my favorite. And then I followed my Tudor obsession many years later into realizing why Catherine of Aragon was called such--neatly wrapping pieces of my Spain interest into an earlier obsession.

I named my gerbil Lyra after the hero of The Golden Compass (6th grade)-brave, adventurous, but still very relatable. And though often I identified more with her worrywart daemon Pantalaimon--I understood Lyra's ability to push herself to be brave for him--which, in essence, was for herself.

I dreamed about going to school at Hogwarts and always cherished the look into the everyday school life as much as the fighting adventures. The Mennyms existed as living things that had no right. A Little Princess showed me about a father's love and plowing through rough times without forgetting yourself.

I yearned for castles and timbers, a language that was understandable but just different enough to be delicious, a land with magic and history seemingly oozing out of its very soil into a potent mix of inspiration, imagination, and a deep sense of wanting to belong to something familiar and comfortable and safe but unpredictable and full of endless potential for adventures at the same time: a wardrobe porthole to another land, a wizard alley hidden behind normal London streets if you just know where to look, ruins of an ancient past to be explored around every bend.

Is this too lofty and unrealistic for the real UK to live up to? Maybe. But hopefully I'll get a glimpse of ruined castles or misty moors with the possibility of magic lingering in the air, just enough to satisfy my childhood dreams. From that, maybe I can create some better sense of myself, who I've been to make me who I am now, and the real world I live in.

The very last bit of my trip diary from Spain and Portugal in 2012.