England 2010, Day 5: Shopping, Tower of London, and A Night Out on the Town
This post is part 7 of my travel series on our trip to England. You can also read about my getting to the first destination; our first evening in the Cotswolds; seeing the English countryside by bicycle; visiting Cotswold villages and local farm animals; exploring Oxford and Blenheim Palace; our first day seeing the sights of London; exploring Kew Gardens, the British Library, and the British Museum; saying goodbye; and other reflections.
***
Thursday, July 29—Breakfast at the Lynton Hotel is served in the basement of the building. As you reach the bottom of the stairs, you get a glimpse of apron-clad Mark working over the stove. However, most mornings you can hear him singing random little ditties before you ever see him.
Once seated in the slightly shabby, but bright and clean breakfast room, Simon comes in to take your order. The ever-present muesli and other cold cereals are available on a ledge underneath the large windows that span the width of the room. Our first morning, we again had the full English, but subsequently Jeff opted for scrambled eggs and toast, while I had poached eggs and baked beans. We had a fun array of toppings for toast to choose from, including strawberry and apricot jam, nutella, and marmite.
Our first stop of the day was the half-price ticket booth at Leicester Square (that’s pronounced “lester”) to see about theatre tickets for that evening. None of the half-price shows were ones we were both particularly interested in, and other shows like Phantom and Les Mis were available but not discounted. We ultimately decided to see Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap, the longest running play in history. Partly because it has been running for so long—it’s now in it’s 58th season—they never have discounts, but tickets are actually a reasonable price anyway.
As we weren’t too far away from St. Martin’s Theatre, where Mousetrap is held, we decided to walk to the theatre and just buy our tickets there. We were glad we went with this course of action, when we had plenty of time, as the theatre was off a side street and not the easiest to find.
Across the street from St. Martin’s was a beautiful flatiron building called The Ivy, which I later learned is a restaurant. Our good friends have a baby girl named Ivy so I had to take some photos for them.
Tickets in hand, we set off to further explore the shops and area around Piccadilly Circus, Leicester Square, and Covent Garden, including the Trocadero, Shaftesbury Avenue, Chinatown, Neal Street, and Neal’s Yard.
This part of the day is a bit of a blur in my memory, but we did have fun browsing a little manga and anime shop, and I bought some clothes at Fat Face. I highly recommend a little tucked away area called Neal’s Yard. You have to be looking for it, but it’s full of brick buildings with colorful signs and plants spilling out of window boxes and a center courtyard with tables, benches, and trees. We didn’t have time to explore it properly and I sadly didn’t snap any pictures. In my limited experience, it reminded me of Yellow Springs, Ohio and the neighborhood of Northside in Cincinnati—sort of an eclectic, hippie paradise. If (when?) I’m back in London again, I will be going back there.
Eventually we ended up at Covent Garden market where we saw some of the famed street performers:
Here I finally found a shop selling quality tea and greatly enjoyed browsing the selection of loose-leaf teas and sampling the teas of the days. I purchased several tins, of course.
Covent Garden:
Can’t you just picture Eliza Doolittle selling her bunches of flowers next to one of those columns?
On our way to Chinatown for lunch, we made a most excellent discovery: Snog. Tart frozen yogurt is all the rage in large cities across America, the most famous being Pinkberry. I am a HUGE fan of our local Cincinnati version, Yagööt. Well, Snog is London’s Yagööt! The yogurt flavors and toppings were a little different, and I was thrilled to be able to have green tea flavor with raspberry, kiwi, and mochi. I have long wished for Yagoot to have green tea as one of their seasonal flavors. Jeff had chocolate with blackberries, mochi, and brownie chunks. Also, their web site is ifancyasnog.com, and it’s filled with funny innuendos about snogging. LOVE IT!
After unexpectedly taking the edge off our hunger at Snog, we shared a dish of cashew chicken at one of the restaurants in Chinatown. London’s Chinatown is actually quite small, especially for a city the size of and with the cultural diversity of London.
Next up, The Tower of London:
The White Tower
Henry VIII's armor
Oliver Cromwell's sword
Jeff with ceremonial bearing swords circa early 15th century
Norman Chapel inside the White Tower
Remains of the original Norman wall
Raven!
Old meets new
Tower Bridge:
After a couple hours at the Tower (another whirlwind tour), it was time to take the tube back to the hotel to get ready for our night out on the town. We got to experience feeling like sardines during rush hour! There’s a totally different feel on the Underground depending on the time of day you ride.
Before long, we were all spiffed up and back at St. Martin’s to start our evening:
We had very nice seats at the front of the first balcony, right in the center. The play was wonderful and lived up to expectations. However, we are sworn to secrecy and will never tell ‘whodunit’.
During intermission, Jeff asked the guy at the concessions stand if he had a recommendation for a good place to get dinner after the show. He got sort of vague directions to a little Italian place a couple blocks away. We found Ristorante Cappuccetto pretty easily and it was perfect: small, probably family-run, but wonderful food, wine, and service. It was mostly empty when we arrived just after 10 o’clock, but filled up quickly. We spent a leisurely, wonderful almost two hours over dinner. I love that such a late dinner is perfectly normal there, and it’s expected that you will linger over your food.
Image credit: alcappuccetto.co.uk
We started with bruschetta and garlic bread, then Jeff had pollo alla cappuccetto (breaded chicken breast cooked in marsala wine and mushroom sauce) and I had pollo alla cacciatora (chicken cooked in tomato sauce, onions, mushrooms, and sweet peppers). We shared a bottle of sweet rose wine that cost about as much as our dinner. I don’t know that much about wine, but that was the good stuff.
Here we are, looking rather sleepy, back at our hotel after our wonderful night out in Soho:
This post is part 6 of my travel series on our trip to England. You can also read about my getting to the first destination; our first evening in the Cotswolds; seeing the English countryside by bicycle; visiting Cotswold villages and local farm animals; exploring Oxford and Blenheim Palace; seeing Soho, the Tower of London, and The Mousetrap; exploring Kew Gardens, the British Library, and the British Museum; saying goodbye; and other reflections.
***
Wednesday, July 28—Our room at the Lynton Hotel was small, but comfortable. London hotel rooms are notoriously expensive so we were glad to find a good deal with personable owners (thanks again to Rick). We expected to have a twin room (with two twin beds) for the first night before switching to a double for our last three nights, but Mark said they did some finagling and we would have the same double room for our whole stay. This was obviously great news.
View from our 4th floor room
Old, creaky staircase that we traversed daily
The en-suite bathroom was, well… a cultural experience. Jeff described this pre-fab bathroom pod as about the size of 1-½ phone booths. The toilet literally protruded into the shower and the sink overlapped with the toilet. I was sort of prepared for this so I really didn’t mind too much, but it was smaller than even I expected. Jeff had a couple cold to lukewarm showers, but I had a hot shower every time: before breakfast, after breakfast, if I showered first or second.
As I mentioned in the last post, we were staying near Victoria Station in the Belgravia/Victoria area. It was a relatively clean, quiet, and pleasant neighborhood convenient to the major central London sights. For those Alexander McCall Smith fans, we were one neighborhood to the north of Pimlico, the setting of Corduroy Mansions.
Our main plan for our first day in London included seeing some of the famous sights and taking the double-decker bus tour of the city. It was easy to buy our tickets and catch our first bus right outside Victoria Station. We didn’t intend to go see the Changing of the Guard Ceremony at Buckingham Palace as we’d heard you have to arrive quite early to get any chance of a good view. However, it was the first major stop on our bus and the tour guide said we were just in time to see the ceremony. Everyone on the bus filed off so it seemed the thing to do.
It was ridiculously crowded when we got there; we never did see the front of the palace itself.
Next up, Big Ben and Westminster Abbey:
Truth and Justice
The Union Jack flying atop Victoria Tower on the Houses of Parliament:
We ate lunch just off Trafalgar Square at Café in the Crypt, in the basement/crypt of St. Martin in the Fields Church:
Trafalgar Square was packed with people—just a little bit of a change from our quiet, pastoral experience in the countryside:
Then we spent some time just staying on the bus, getting the whirlwind tour of London:
Royal Courts of Justice
A dragon marking a transition from the City of Westminster into the City of London
Fleet Street, famous as the home of the British press
St. Paul's Cathedral
Monument to the Great Fire of London, commonly known as The Monument
River Thames!
Mom, this one is for you:
David Suchet performing at the Apollo Theatre
Lyric Theatre in the West End
After getting off the tour we spent some time walking around Soho and perusing the shops on Oxford Street. At this point we were sort of wandering aimlessly, and stopped to rest our feet at Blackwell’s bookshop on Charing Cross Road and to figure out a plan for dinner.
Dinner ended up being takeaway from a crowded Fish and Chips shop, The Rock and Sole Plaice, which we ate on a bench in Leicester Square.
Up the street from The Rock and Sole Plaice, I found St. Mungo’s!
Okay, so it’s obviously a homeless shelter, not a hospital for magical maladies, but the description of the building still fits.
Back at the beginning of this England travelogue, I said I would post a new blog every morning. Well, folks, this series is taking even more of my time than I anticipated. You might have noticed that yesterday’s post didn’t go up until the afternoon (and I probably should have just broken it up into two posts anyway).
So… I have decided to take a break for the weekend. After all, this is my blog. Check back on Monday for the beginning of our adventures in London and, of course, more pictures.
This post is part 5 of my travel series on our trip to England. You can also read about my getting to the first destination; our first evening in the Cotswolds; seeing the English countryside by bicycle; visiting Cotswold villages and local farm animals; our first day seeing the sights of London; seeing Soho, the Tower of London, and The Mousetrap; exploring Kew Gardens, the British Library, and the British Museum; saying goodbye; and other reflections.
***
Tuesday, July 27—Today we had to say goodbye to the Cotswolds after two full, but altogether too short days. But Oxford—a place I have heard so much about for so long—is waiting!
Before breakfast we walked down to the Laundrette (I just love that name) to pick up Jeff’s clothes as a misty rain started to wreak havoc on my hair. We had a modified English breakfast back at Kymalton House: muesli, fruit, yogurt, toast, tea, scrambled eggs for Jeff, and poached eggs and baked beans for me.
We packed quickly, nervous about making the train to Oxford. We’d already bought our tickets when we came into town for the laundry so we just had to make it to the platform via the back footpath. I think we would have made it just in the nick of time except that the train was thankfully running late. As it turned out, we had plenty of time.
Once in Oxford, we were in familiar territory for Jeff, whom you might remember had just spent a week here for work. We walked from the station to the nearby Oxford Backpackers Hostel where we paid £3/bag to stash our luggage for the day.
Our first stop was not actually in Oxford, but Blenheim (BLEN-em) Palace just outside Oxford on the edge of the village of Woodstock (where Jeff’s work hotel was).
Jeff had visited the extensive grounds during the previous week, and also made a quick tour of the Palace with a co-worker. They are currently running a promotion that allows you to convert a single day ticket to an annual pass for free. Jeff had already bought us our tickets/annual passes, and I just needed to have my photograph taken for my pass. It felt rather odd getting an annual pass, but it worked out since Jeff was in the area twice. Our nice passes made a good souvenir at least.
Blenheim is one of the largest houses (more of a castle, really) in all of England, and was built between 1705-1724 as a gift for the Duke of Marlborough. The current Duke and Duchess still live there! The house sits on over 2,000 acres of parkland and gardens. The history of the place is fascinating, and you can read about it here (and see a great short video) and here if you wish. It is also the birthplace of Sir Winston Churchill, a descendant of the First Duke of Marlborough and first cousin of the 9th Duke of Marlborough.
After wandering outside for a bit, we ate lunch in the Water Terrace Café (aptly named) with a view of the Water Terraces:
After lunch, we took a quick tour of one wing of the palace itself, including a Winston Churchill exhibit and the room where he was born. Sadly, no photographs were allowed inside, but it was magnificent. The palace has a most beautiful library, The Long Library. It holds over 10,000 books, looks out over the fountains and lake, has a grand pipe organ, and is also a picture gallery. Heaven on earth!
Next, we explored a fraction of the grounds and the gardens. I had been waiting for my first chance to tour a garden like this!
This post is part 4 of my travel series on our trip to England. You can also read about my getting to the first destination; our first evening in the Cotswolds; seeing the English countryside by bicycle; exploring Oxford and Blenheim Palace; our first day seeing the sights of London; seeing Soho, the Tower of London, and The Mousetrap; exploring Kew Gardens, the British Library, and the British Museum; saying goodbye; and other reflections.
***
Monday, July 26—We forego the full English breakfast in favor of cold cereal, yogurt, flaky croissants, toast, and tea. Again we saw Sally at breakfast and had a long chat before making our preparations for the day. We enjoyed our two nights at Warwick House, but had to switch to a new B&B for our last night in Moreton as Charlie had a group coming in taking all the rooms.
Kymalton House, our new B&B, is on the other side of town, but thankfully we knew to take the back footpath through the neighborhoods.
Kymalton House (from the web site)
We dropped off our bags, and set off for the TI (Tourist Information) to check the bus schedule and make our plan for the day. It’s hard to decide which few things to see and do when you want to fit everything in!
Bus schedule and day plan in hand, we went to wait for the bus to Stow-on-the-Wold. It was already lunchtime by the time we arrived in Stow, and we decided to try one of the local pubs, The Queen’s Head.
The Queen’s Head interior is a good example of a typical English pub with dark wood and comfortable corners, but as soon as I saw the back courtyard there was no question where we would be eating.
Don’t miss the two dog water bowls!
Fresh herbs and veggies growing in containers
Then came the food. Oh, the delicious food! Baguette with baked cheese round and cranberry chutney, garden salad with homemade house dressing, and a big bowl of chips (fries). See the clear liquid? That’s more of that delicious lemonade. Surprisingly, malt vinegar on chips is actually kind of good.
When we first arrived at the Queen’s Head, we were the only people in the courtyard, but that soon changed. Two dogs even joined us, with their owners, of course. We met a new breed of dog we’d never heard of before, a lurcher. There was also a fantastic sign taped to the inside of the front door that read:
DOGS WELCOME
ADULTS TOLERATED
CHILDREN MUST BE KEPT
UNDER CONTROL AT ALL TIMES
Next stop: Stow’s TI to see about ordering a taxi to take us to the Cotswold Farm Park, which happens to be out in the middle of nowhere. We made arrangements and went back up to the main square to wait for our ride. John picked us up and we quickly realized that he thought he was supposed to take us to a different park in the area. “No problem,” he said. “I think I know where this place is.”
Thankfully we weren’t paying by the meter as we ended up with an impromptu, meandering tour of the countryside complete with commentary on all manner of subjects.
At last we made it to the Farm Park! After making arrangements to be picked up again in a couple hours, we made our way inside where we bought two small bags of feed pellets along with our tickets. Jeff was particularly excited to see all the animals. The Cotswold Farm Park has lots of kid-friendly activities, but specializes in rare and endangered breeds of local animals with a goal of preservation, conversation, and education.
Would you believe these are sheep? These are what the first English sheep looked like before they were selectively breed.
Up close and personal
We both got to feed the baby lambs!
I loved these signs in the demonstration barn:
Greedy goats
Texel sheep
The sheep and the goats
Notice the four horns on this next one. From the educational sign: “Joseph’s coat of many colours is thought to have been made from the wool of Jacob sheep and The Bible certainly records advice given by God to Joseph’s father Jacob, on how to breed spotted lambs, including using only spotted rams (Genesis 30 & 31). This is probably the first written record of selective breeding!”
Jeff befriending a Jacob sheep
Mmmm... salty...
And last, but certainly not least, the famous Cotswold sheep. Again, from the educational sign: “Brought to Britain by the Romans these sheep once roamed the Cotswold Hills in their thousands and were known as the ‘Cotswold Lion.’ The hills take their name from the sheep. These were the “wolds” or bare hills, of the sheep “cots” or sheep enclosures. During the middle ages their wool was sold to produce great wealth, enabling the local merchants to build beautiful manor houses and churches.”
It had been threatening rain most of the day, and the skies opened up on us just as we were finishing. Thankfully it was just a quick downpour, and it was dry for our next stop. Our next taxi driver took us to the large village of Bourton-on-the-Water, known as the “Venice of the Cotswolds” for the stream that runs through the middle of the village.
While less than a foot deep, the stream is technically River Windrush. Our taxi driver told us that they play a football match in the river every summer. Not sure how that works exactly, but it sounds like fun!
Next we took the bus back up to Stow-on-the-Wold to finish exploring the town. Rick (that’s our Rick Steves’ England 2010 guide that was our constant companion) told us that a visit to Stow was not complete until you locked your partner in the stocks in the town square. Who were we to argue?
I told Jeff to look angry and that’s what I got. 🙂
The church is one of the highlights of the town:
However, the real highlight of the church is this door around back, flanked by two ancient yew trees:
Tolkien fans, what do you see? Perhaps the entrance to Moria? Tolkien hiked all over the Cotswolds, and many believe this door to be his inspiration for the door to Moria. How cool is that, really?!? Apparently some also view it as, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock…”
Knocking and speaking “friend” to see if the dwarves will let me in to Moria
Napping in the churchyard
Market Cross in the town square
About 20 inns in England claim to be the oldest in the country, and this is one of them:
Circa 947 AD
The oldest inn in England?
Fleece alley: just wide enough for a single file of sheep to walk into the market square – all the easier to count them
Dogs are even allowed in some of the nice shops, not just the pubs
After exploring Stow, we bought some ice cream and chocolates, which we ate while we waited on a bench near the stocks for the last bus of the day to come and take us back home to Moreton. When the bus didn’t show, we realized that we’d read the bus schedule wrong. We were waiting for the last Saturday bus time… but it was Monday. After critiquing the schedule layout (like good TPC grads), we scratched our heads and tried to figure out what to do. We were only one town over from where we needed to be, but about 5 miles away. After some thought, we decided our only course of action was to find someplace to let us borrow a phone and call for a taxi.
We entered what looked to be a very nice hotel, and were soon directed to a pay phone. Thankfully we had a sheet of local taxi companies that we’d picked up from the TI in Moreton. The pay phone itself was somewhat confusing. Jeff had to wait until someone answered on the other line and then immediate drop a coin in the slot. It was unclear how much money paid for how much time. Once he reached someone, he had to call back multiple times because the phone kept cutting him off. Of course, the taxi service wanted to know specifically where we were and we didn’t know. So I went walking as fast as possible out to the front of the building to find out! Finally we had someone coming to get us in about 10 minutes so we walked back out to the entrance. About 10 minutes later, a lady came scurrying out to us, asking if we’re the Americans who called the taxi. Apparently the hotel had three entrances, and taxis come to the back one. Of course. At this point we’re just glad to be getting home—even if it was for the price of a taxi rather than two bus fares.
Our innkeeper at Kymalton, Doug, had already taken our bags up to our room when we got back. And what a lovely room it was—tastefully decorated and with a view down into the front garden.
For dinner, we tried to go to a little Thai restaurant we’d been hearing great things about, but they were sadly closed on Mondays. Instead we went to ASK, a popular Italian chain around the U.K.
We ordered garlic bread for an appetizer, and when it arrived were surprised to see what was essentially a baked pizza crust with olive oil and crushed garlic. It was very good, just not American garlic bread. Another surprise was Jeff’s strawberry “Freshly Made Milkshake”—just milk with strawberry syrup mixed in. My drink was a sparkling pomegranate and raspberry Fruitiser—delicious. For the meal, I ordered the Estiva pizza: baked with tomato and mozzarella, and fresh out of the oven, topped with baby mozzarella, prosciutto, and a layer of fresh rocket (arugula). Jeff had a grilled chicken and pasta dish. Both were delicious.
This post is part 3 of my travel series on our trip to England. You can also read about my getting to the first destination; our first evening in the Cotswolds; visiting Cotswold villages and local farm animals; exploring Oxford and Blenheim Palace; our first day seeing the sights of London; seeing Soho, the Tower of London, and The Mousetrap; exploring Kew Gardens, the British Library, and the British Museum; saying goodbye; and other reflections.
***
Sunday, July 25—We woke feeling refreshed and ready to try our first English breakfast. The “full English” breakfast, or fatboy as it’s also called, consists of eggs, sausages, “bacon” (more like ham), baked beans, grilled tomato, and sometimes, grilled mushrooms. Charlie, the innkeeper, motions with his hands to indicate where a massive gut should be when he says “fatboy.” It is a cultural experience (which, sadly, I never got a picture of). The good thing about this breakfast is that it keeps you full until about 3 o’clock in the afternoon. Of course, breakfast also comes with toast and tea (or coffee if you wish—we don’t wish).
We shared the breakfast table with another American couple who were also using Rick Steves’ England as their trip guide. They are pleasant company, but had to leave shortly after we arrived to pack and catch their train. Just as we were finishing breakfast, another American, Sally, joined us at the table. Sally was fun and quirky, and she talked our ears off about TI-83 calculators, which she used to evangelize at high schools and colleges before they were common. She’s thrilled to hear we both owned and used them in high school.
After breakfast we were ready to hit the road. It was a perfect summer day: blue sky filled with puffy white clouds, a light breeze, and temperatures in the low 70s.
The Cotswolds have been officially (and rightfully) designated as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. But the area lacks comprehensive public transportation options. Bus service is fair, but far from complete. The train only services a few key cities. Thankfully, the many Cotswold villages are only a few miles from each other and easily seen by car. Neither of us wanted to try driving on the left or navigating the roundabouts. Thus the bike plan.
We started our course with a section of uphill road toward Batsford, but our friends at the toy shop promised us it would level out. Which it did. Eventually. I might have felt comfortable and confident on a bike, but my thighs were already reminding me how long it had been. Fortunately, after about a mile we came upon this:
…which led us to this:
Next we headed off toward Aston Magna. On the way we crested a hill and stopped to admire the view:
Aston Magna itself is a tiny, picture-perfect village:
Paxford was our next destination, but we turned left instead of right at Aston Magna, and ended up in Draycott instead. This wasn’t a huge deal as Draycott is only 1 mile from Aston Magna, but we quickly realized that the 1 mile back is uphill. On the way, we stopped to visit with some cows and got a nice picture of the town sign that we wouldn’t have gotten otherwise.
Back on course again, we saw the first sheep for which this area is famous.
Paxford:
Next up, Ebrington:
Thatched roofs!
Another picture-perfect English garden:
Finally, we made it to Chipping Campden. At this point we were both ready to have some time off our bikes. It was past 3:00 and we hadn’t eaten since our big breakfast. Almost immediately we spotted a little local shop selling small cups of ice cream and we indulged in a cool treat. Then we locked our bikes to a tree and went off in search of some real food. Many of the restaurants had just stopped serving lunch, but we found a tea room, Badgers Hall, that seemed to be what we were looking for.
After quickly downing some refreshing cold water, we turned our attention to the menu. I ordered a jacket potato with tuna and kernel corn and side salad, while Jeff had one of the dishes that won a local “comfort food” contest (can’t remember what it was called) and side salad.
Both meals were delicious and really hit the spot. However, the baked goods were also calling to us so we decided to order tea and cakes (after all, we were in a tea room). Jeff had a traditional scone with jam and clotted cream, and I had treacle tart with clotted cream. I had been curious about treacle tart ever since reading Harry Potter, as it is Harry’s favorite dessert. Now I understand why! Treacle tart is made with golden syrup, similar to honey, and has a caramel-like taste. My serving was much bigger than I expected and very gooey.
After our delightful respite, we set out to explore the town. Chipping Campden gained its wealth from the wool trade in the late Middle Ages and is built almost entirely of locally quarried limestone known as Cotswold stone. Even the roofs are made of stone shingles.
The Market Hall, built in 1627
Inside the Market Hall
Stone roof from the inside
Chipping Campden
St. James Church, one of the finest of the Cotswold “wool churches”:
All too soon it was time to continue our bike ride. We rode through tiny Broad Campden and just past the village, on our way to Draycott, I had a small bike emergency when the chain came off part way up a hill. Fortunately I had dealt with this situation before, and, with some help from Jeff, we were soon back in business, albeit a bit dirtier.
We visited Draycott (for the second time) and were surprised, but pleased with how much quicker the return journey was as we were getting pretty tired by this time.
All along our journey this day, we saw multiple paths leading off through the fields. We were very near the Cotswold Way series of footpaths that lead all-around the countryside. Some of them were also marked with signposts.
After walking up a steep, seemingly never-ending hill, we came across a lovely patch of the rapeseed that grows all over the hills.
We made it back to Moreton-in-Marsh just after 8pm, tired but happy. We estimated that we rode about 13 miles that day.
Eventually we wandered out for a late dinner (even by British standards), and ended up with a hodge-podge of items from Tesco Express (a local grocery and convenience shop) which we ate back in our room.
This post is part 2 of my travel series on our trip to England. You can also read about my getting to the first destination; seeing the English countryside by bicycle; visiting Cotswold villages and local farm animals; exploring Oxford and Blenheim Palace; our first day seeing the sights of London; seeing Soho, the Tower of London, and The Mousetrap; exploring Kew Gardens, the British Library, and the British Museum; saying goodbye; and other reflections.
***
After settling in a bit, we walk down to the High Street (equivalent to Main Street) to the Toy Shop to rent bikes for the next day. The friendly couple who run the shop give us everything we need. Helen—the calm one—gives us a compass and detailed map of the area and plots out a path for us to take, making sure we understand where we’re going. Then Paul (easy to remember as my brother, Paul, is also a biking enthusiast)—the enthusiastic one—takes us out back to outfit us with bikes, helmets, and a lock.
This is the part where I learn something new about Jeff. When we planned to spend a day biking around the countryside, I assumed Jeff was comfortable on a bike. He assumed the same thing. You know, like the expression, “It’s just like riding a bike.” Apparently he hadn’t ridden a bike since he was probably 10 or 12 and it wasn’t as large a part of his childhood as it was of mine. I remember saving up to buy a really nice mountain bike at about age 13. I spent many hours each summer racing bikes with the other neighborhood kids and going on family bike rides. My bike took me to Holland’s Mercantile and the public pool—the essence of summer in my small hometown. So, while I hadn’t ridden a bike in probably about 5 years, it’d been about 15 years for Jeff.
I hop on for our test ride and everything comes right back. Jeff is a bit wobbly, and now suddenly a bit apprehensive of our plan. He picks it back up quickly, however, and Paul guides us on the back way to our B&B. Interestingly, the front and back brakes on these English bikes are switched (and labeled right on the handlebars so Americans don’t accidentally flip themselves over the handlebars).
We park our bikes in the garage of our B&B and set about to find some dinner options. Our hosts strongly recommend a local restaurant/pub called The Black Bear, so we trek back to High Street to find it. Many pubs in England have two sides with two different menus: the bar side and the restaurant side. We aren’t really in the mood for pub grub so we opt for a nicer meal on the restaurant side.
Our waiter is a teenage Harry Potter lookalike only without glasses. Jeff orders the leg of lamb and a glass of lemonade, and I have the lamb curry. When “Harry” brings out the lemonade, we look at each other in puzzlement. There must be a mistake because the “lemonade” is clear. This is water, right?
Jeff gets the waiter’s attention and, gesturing toward the glass, says, “I asked for lemonade.”
“Um, that is lemonade,” says the poor kid with a confused look.
“Oh… okay, thanks.”
Jeff takes a sip of the “lemonade” and, sure enough, it has a sweet, lemony taste—but it’s not American lemonade. I try some and declare it to be different, but really quite good, maybe even better than the normal American drink.
We enjoy our meal in relative quiet as the only other couple in the restaurant has now left and our waiter appears to have gone off duty. Sounds of laughter, music, and plates being cleaned come to us from the other side, but we (mostly me) are too tired to investigate.
We walk back to Warwick House, reveling in the perfect temperature of a summer’s evening. The bed is calling my name, and we turn in early, looking forward to our first real day of English exploring in the morning.
