Great Britain & Ireland

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GREAT BRITAIN

England’s beautiful city of Bath with its elegant Royal Crescent

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September 1997 trip to Great Britain and Ireland Our 1997 trip to Great Britain and Ireland started

Our home away from home in Bath

The Roman Baths and Abbey of Bath

at London’s Heathrow airport, where we caught the National Express bus to Bath. It is said that any tour of Britain that skips Bath leaves something to be truly desired. Two hundred years ago this city of 80,000 was the trend-setting Hollywood of Britain. A beautiful city, built entirely of the creamy warm toned limestone called “Bathstone”, with more protected historic buildings per capita than any other town in England. An architectural chorus line, it’s a triumph of the Georgian style. After checking in at the Kennard Hotel on Henrietta Street, we signed up for a two-hour walking tour of the city conducted by a trained local volunteer, a charming lady, who shared her love of Bath in a most delightfully chatty, historical-gossip-filled manner. She ended up the tour at the very elegant Royal Crescent and The Circus--If Bath is an architectural can-can, these are the kickers. On our own, we visited the Baths (Roman and Medieval)--Back in ancient Roman times, high society enjoyed the mineral springs at Bath. From Londinium they would travel so often to Aquae Sulis, as the city was called, to “take a bath”, it finally became known simply as “Bath”. We marveled at the museum’s well documented display of Roman artifacts. Dominating the town center is The Abbey, the last great medieval church of England. We entered this 500 year old Gothic edifice and saw where in 973, Edgar, the first king of England was crowned. Of special interest became a visit to the Costume Museum, displaying 400 years of fashion--from Anne Boleyn to Twiggy. After three days on foot in the city, the dreaded time to rent a car for the rest of the trip, had finally come. It was with considerable apprehension we got into that car with its right side steering and left hand shifting and I had some scary moments getting used to driving on the left side of the road, especially when approaching those infernal “Roundabouts”. We were soon off though, to a one day tour of places like Wells and its incredible cathedral, where we bought a beautiful tapestry pillow and a christmas tape sung by its choir. On then to Glastonbury, ancient home of Avalon, King Arthur, and the Holy Grail. We walked the Abbey floor from where the remains of Arthur and his Queen Guinevere were supposed to have been dug up and reburied in the Abbey choir. Further on we came upon England’s most famous and every Druid’s favorite stone circle: Stonehenge, with its parts older than Egypt’s oldest pyramid.

Donna on Pulteney Bridge, sometimes compared to Florence’s Ponte Vecchio

Stonehenge & The Cotswolds

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Stonehenge’s huge stones were brought all the

Why was that thing speaking in Japanese to her?

Blenheim Palace, birthplace of Sir Winston Churchill

way from Wales to form a remarkably accurate celestial calendar. Even today, every summer solstice (around June 21) the sun sets in just the right slot and the Druids all come out to boogie. The morning we checked out of the hotel in Bath, we made straight for Avebury. Here we found a stone circle 16 times the size of Stonehenge and more interesting, as we were free to wander among the 100 stones, ditches and mounds of its fascinating, 1,400-foot-wide neolithic circle. On then to the southern Cotswolds, where on the edge of the town of Woodstock sits Blenheim Palace. It is said that visiting one English palace is enough...as long as it’s Blenheim This, the Duke of Marlborough’s home, the largest in England is still lived in, which becomes wonderfully obvious as you walk through its warm and gleaming interiors. The highlight for us was the Sir Winston Churchill exhibition, centered around the room where he was born in 1874, while his mother was at a Blenheim Palace party. The beauty of the Cotswolds made it an absolute joy to tour by car and we soon found ourselves at our next overnight stay in Chipping Campden. A working market town and home to some incredibly beautiful thatched roof houses and very rich Cotswold wool merchants. We walked the full length of High Street, the finest in Eng-land and found lodgings at Sparlings B&B, run by the elderly and very proper Mr. Black and Mr. Douglass, who proudly showed us their very English garden and fruit trees. From here we toured the enchanting Cotswold towns of Stowon-the-Wold with its peaceful main square and amusing stocks on the green, (which we both refused to try out). Moreton-in-Marsh, where we found streets lined with real shops like iron mongers selling cottage name-plates and carpet stores rather than the usual gift and antique shops. Bourton-on-the-Water, with its quaint canals and Upper and Lower Slaughter with its ducks and working water mill. Back in Chipping Campden we soaked up the history all around us and visited the town’s famous 15th-century Perpendicular “wool” church on Church Street and indulged ourselves that evening with the trip’s most memorable meal, prepared by Pop in a small Mom and Pop restaurant tucked away at the end of High Street.

The Market Hall in the center of Chipping Campden built in 1627 “for the sale of cheese, butter and poultry”.

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Wales Heading north to Wales we bypassed the giant city

Iron Bridge over the river Severn

Caernarfon Castle courtyard

of Birmingham in favor of Ironbridge Gorge, where the Industrial Revolution was born in the Severn River Valley. This now drowsy valley (blessed with abundant deposits of iron ore and a river for transport) gave the world the first iron wheels, steam powered locomotive, and cast-iron bridge. We stopped off here and walked across this first Iron Bridge built in 1779, while England was at war with her American colonies, to show off a wonderful new building material. On then we went to north Wales and the town of Ruthin (rith-in), which was supposed to be a handy base for drivers doing north Wales. After checking in at Ye Olde Anchor Inn, we strolled the town, which appeared to be a low-key, workaday market town, whose charm apparently was in its ordinary Welch-ness. The people were its sights. The following day we drove over Llanberis Mountain Pass to Caernarfon by way of Betws-Y-Coed in Snowdonia National Park, with its center piece Mount Snowden, England's tallest mountain. Caernarfon was a small and lively town, but its castle, brimming with image and symbolism was impressive to say the least. It was built overlooking the Irish Sea, 700 years ago to establish English rule over north Wales. We climbed the Eagle Tower for a great view and checked out the exhibits on the history of Wales and the investiture of the Princes of Wales -most recently, Prince Charles in 1969. On then to Conwy Castle, built dramatically on a rock overlooking the sea with eight enormous towers and interesting story to tell. Back in Ruthin that evening, our inn’s proprietor showed off his gourmet chef talents by serving us a most extraordinarily delicious meal.

Conwy Castle and town walls

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IRELAND

Slea Head on Dingle Peninsula

Dublin

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Time to leave Wales and head for Ireland by way of

Ha’Penny Bridge over Dublin’s River Liffey

The pedestrian thoroughfare of Grafton Street

Street musicians on Grafton Street

ferry from Holyhead. After dropping off the car rental we boarded the Stena Line Ferry and crossed the Irish sea uneventfully and docked at Dun Laoghaire, where we hailed a cab to take us to Dublin’s fair city. With us humming “alive, alive-O.” the driver wanted to know: “where to?” and was shocked to learn we had no reservation anywhere in the tourist filled Irish capital. He quickly got on his radio and soon arranged to have us stay at the Greenbriar, an old-fashioned but comfy B&B, quite a distance from the center of town. After checking in, we covered that distance on foot and found ourselves in the center of touristic interest, which is the tight triangle between O’Connell Bridge, St Stephen’s Green and Christchurch Cathedral. Within this triangle we found Trinity College (Book of Kells), Grafton Street (top pedestrian shopping zone), Temple Bar (trendy nightlife center), and the Dublin Castle. Greater Dublin sprawls with about 1 million people - nearly a third of the country’s population. On our second day here, we signed up for the Historical Walking Tour of Dublin, conducted by a Trinity College history professor. Starting out at Trinity College, we did the Old Parliament House - Dublin Castle (where the Poddle and Liffey Rivers came together making a black pool, “dubh linn” in Irish), Christchurch Cathedral with the story of their city from its Viking origin to the present and listened to our guide talk at length about “The Troubles” and the roots of Ireland’s struggle with Britain. We spent considerable time browsing on lively Grafton Street, buying Guinness Brewery T shirts for our boys among other souvenirs. We strolled the Temple Bar district, the heart of Dublin’s hot nightlife and pedestrians only hive of creative energy with its trendy shops, galleries and pubs with live music and Irish dancing.

Temple Bar announcement

Ireland

Inch Strand on the Dingle Peninsula where we found a large sign saying: : INCH, MUST I LEAVE YOU DEAR I HAVE PROMISES TO KEEP PERHAPS MILES TO GO TO MY LAST SLEEP

The Gallarus Oratory

The Cliffs of Moher

35 We left Dublin for its airport, where we picked up our Irish

car rental and started the 6 hour trek across Ireland, heading for the Dingle Peninsula, the westernmost tip of the island. Before reaching Dingle Town, we stopped off at Inch Strand, a 4 mile stretch of lonely beach, shaped like a half moon, made famous by the Ryan’s Daughter movie, much loved by Donna. In Dingle Town we checked in at Sraid Eoin B&B on the quiet end of town. Dingle turned out to be extremely comfortable on foot. Nothing in town is more than a 5minute walk away. Of the peninsula’s 10,000 residents, 1,300 live in Dingle Town with its few streets, lined with ramshackled but gaily painted shops and pubs. The harbor is always busy with fishing boats and yachts and during the day kids - already working on ruddy beer-glow cheeks - roll kegs up the street and into the pubs in preparation for another night of music and craic. Dingle is renowned among traditional musicians as a place to get work and there is music every night in many of the town’s 50 pubs. On day 2 here, we explored the 30 mile loop around the peninsula with its mix of “Far and Away” beauty (Irish portion of 1992 Tom Cruise movie was filmed here). We checked out ancient archeological wonders and stopped by Lord Ventry’s fancy 17th century manor house and the Dunbeg Fort, a relic from Irelands iron age.We visited the Fagan group of beehive huts, mysterious stone igloos (that Donna saw fit to put to personal use). We gazed at the “Sleeping Giant” island - with hand resting happily on his beer-belly. We studied the fields, untouched since the planting of 1845 when the potatoes rotted in the ground - a reminder of the great famine. We paid a visit to the Gallarus Oratory, built about 1,200 years ago and one of Ireland’s best preserved early Christian churches, its shape reminiscent of an upturned boat and stone walls so perfectly fitted together that they are still waterproof. We observed sweeping seaside views, the rugged Blasket Islands as well as godforsaken lands slowly being reclaimed by the inhabitants of this westernmost piece of Europe. Back in Dingle Town we prepared to leave by way of Donner Pass, the mountainous spine topped by Mount Brandon with its incredible views over Tralee Bay, Brandon Bay and the open Atlantic. On through Tralee we drove, towards the River Shannon and County Clare. We crossed the ocean like river at Tarbert on a car ferry and drove the scenic coastal route to the Cliffs of Moher. For 5 miles the dramatic cliffs soar as much as 700 feet above the Atlantic. We walked past solitary flutists and accordionist playing the plaintive music of their land, along a low wall of the local Liscannor slate to the cliff edge and climbed O’Brien’s Tower, marking the highest point. We drove as far north as Kinvarra, looking at the Burren, a 50-squaremile barren limestone plateau, before turning around and head for Ennis, our last overnight stay in Ireland. Ennis, County Clare’s major city with a medieval history is a workaday Irish town, ideal for anyone tired of the tourist scene, which I think we were at this point. Returning the car-rental at nearby Shannon Airport the next day, we were happy to catch a midday flight to London. The hustle and bustle of this world metropolis after pastoral Ireland, proved to be such a turn off, we cut our intended stay in half and willingly returned to Heathrow Airport and our flight home to the good old U.S. of A.