29

GREAT BRITAIN

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


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
Donna on Pulteney Bridge,
sometimes compared to Florence’s Ponte Vecchio
30
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 Med-
ieval)--Back in ancient Roman times, high society en-
joyed 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 re-
buried 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.

Why was that thing speaking in Japanese to her?
Blenheim Palace, birthplace of Sir Winston Churchill
The Market Hall in the center of Chipping Campden
built in 1627 “for the sale of cheese, butter and poultry”.
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Stonehenge &
The Cotswolds
Stonehenge’s huge stones were brought all the
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 Stow-
on-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.

Iron Bridge over the river Severn
Caernarfon Castle courtyard
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Wales
Heading north to Wales we bypassed the giant city
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 over-
looking 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
 33

IRELAND

Slea Head on Dingle Peninsula


Ha’Penny Bridge over Dublin’s River Liffey
The pedestrian thoroughfare of Grafton Street
Street musicians on Grafton Street
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Dublin
Time to leave Wales and head for Ireland by way of
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 reser-
vation anywhere in the tourist filled Irish capital. He quick-
ly 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 be-
tween 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 night-
life 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:
DEAR: INCH, MUST I LEAVE YOU
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 extre-
mely comfortable on foot. Nothing in town is more than a 5-
minute walk away. Of the peninsula’s 10,000 residents,
1,300 live in Dingle Town with its few streets, lined with ram-
shackled but gaily painted shops and pubs. The harbor is al-
ways 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 mu-
sicians 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 to-
gether that they are still waterproof. We observed sweeping
seaside views, the rugged Blasket Islands as well as god-
forsaken 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 clim-
bed O’Brien’s Tower, marking the highest point. We drove
as far north as Kinvarra, looking at the Burren, a 50-square-
mile 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 Shan-
non Airport the next day, we were happy to catch a midday
flight to London. The hustle and bustle of this world metro-
polis 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.