Pictures!

14 06 11 23:19
We’ve been asked: Where are the pictures?? Between the two of us, Suzanne and I took close to 2000 pictures on this trip. It probably would have been more if my camera hadn’t developed issues along the way. We’ve selected some to share that will give you a flavor for what we experienced on this trip. You can find about 300 of the photos, most of them taken by Suzanne, in four Picasa albums, each one representing a few days of the trip. Clicking on the links below should open the album in a new window. So for you who have been asking - enjoy them; we sure enjoyed taking them!

Album 1 - Bath, Cotswolds, Stonehenge, Avebury

Album 2 - Ireland

Album 3 - Wales, the Lake District, Scotland

Album 4 - C.S. Lewis’ Oxford, London, Salisbury

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Home Sweet Home

19 05 11 09:15
Coming home is an indisputable joy. The process may be tiresome, but the destination is worth it. I guess one of the reasons that transitions are harder than they used to be is that home is more precious than it used to be. Our trip home went about as smoothly as it could, given the realities of air travel these days. We cashed in enough frequent (well, not all that frequent) flyer miles for business class seats, and that choice included the privileges of a fast track security line and American Airlines’ Ambassador Lounges in London and Chicago, amenities that eased the inevitable discomfort of modern airports. We took off from Heathrow at 10:15 a.m. and arrived in Seattle a bit early fifteen and a half hours later at 5:45 p.m. We were - are - jetlagged and tired, but it is good to be home. Very good.

I know there are promised pictures that have not yet been shared. Trust me; they will be, but not today. Today is a day for savoring home, reengaging with the responsibilities that were temporarily set aside, and reflecting on the joy of the journey. I am reminded of my brother’s comment in Ireland: You can’t unsee something. We have seen much, and the images remain, and we will not unsee what we have seen.

I think of the original primary purpose of our trip to leave Mom’s ashes on a peaceful, grassy hillside in Scotland, and I realize that she - and Joan, Matt, and too many others - have experienced in an ultimate sense the truth that coming home is an indisputable joy. Seattle may not be heaven, but the destination is worth it.
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Leaving London

17 05 11 00:46
We’re at Heathrow Airport this morning waiting for leg one of our flight home. Monday was our last day in London, and we decided to see it from a different angle, taking a cruise on the Thames. Our hope that the London crowds would be easier to negotiate proved vain - less people than at the weekend, but still a crowded international zoo of humanity. London is full of historically significant sites and awesome structures like St Paul’s and the Tower Bridge, but we’ve decided that its real beauty lies in its people, away from the maddening crowds of central London. Monday’s dinner, appropriately enough, was a delicious pub meal of fish and chips. Who would have guessed that I will miss these pubs!

This morning we took a taxi to Paddington station - London taxi drivers really ARE the best in the world - and hopped on the Heathrow Express train for the 15 minute ride to the airport. (A taxi all the way would likely have taken an hour and cost more.) Perhaps because it is a small country, perhaps because of different social values, the rail system here is efficient, reliable, and usually comfortable - though not necessarily cheap.

It’s been good to be here, but I’m not sorry we’re leaving. Home is looking mighty attractive!
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Salisbury

16 05 11 01:39
Sunday’s dilemma was what to do with the last available day of our rail passes. We were pretty sure we didn’t want to tackle the weekend crowds of central London again, and the cathedrals we wanted to see either had restricted hours or were closed to tourists on Sunday. After considering several options, we decided to head out to the often overlooked market town of Salisbury and its stunning cathedral.

The last time I was in Salisbury, it turned out to be a summer market day, and the crowds were awful. This Sunday afternoon was much different. With many shops closed on Sunday and virtually no market activity, the town was a bit quieter, though still with a lot of visitors. Salisbury is home to one of England’s most beautiful cathedrals with the country’s tallest spire. Dating from the 1200s, the cathedral is an impressive sight. It also houses one of four original copies of the Magna Carta (no photos permitted).

I marvel at the effort and intricate detail evident in the cathedral. What must it have cost in time and effort to construct such a magnificent place 800 years ago? And why did they bother? The only answer that makes sense is that it was built to the glory of God. Visiting such places convicts me of the readiness with which we modern Americans can settle for mediocrity. Salisbury was a good choice for this Sunday afternoon.
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People and Places

15 05 11 00:58

In planning a trip like this one, much of my focus was on places we wanted to visit (Big Ben, Buckingham Palace....) But as I think back over where we have been and what we have done, the memories most deeply etched in my mind are of people. Saturday was a good example of that.

We spent some time in the center of the city with what seemed to be most of the population of Europe. Some cities are less congested on weekends, but not London; tourists were everywhere, but mostly right in front of us. The sights of Westminster are indeed something to see. The likes of Westminster Abbey, the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, are impressive, and we will remember them. But the highlights of the day came a bit later.

Suzanne wanted to see the house I lived in for the first seven years of my life, so we took the underground to Colindale, and without much trouble made our way to 75 Booth Road. Standing outside someone else’s home taking pictures is a good way to be noticed, and we were. When Suzanne told the current owners that I had lived there six decades ago, we were welcomed like old friends and graciously invited in for orange juice and conversation. The house has changed little over the years. The almond tree in front is gone, but my adopted sister Pat’s name is still etched in the brick above the house number, and the heritage of hospitality begun there by my parents in the 1940s continues.

From there we took the train out to Hemel Hempstead for dinner with Pat’s daughter Carol and her husband Grant. Carol met us at the station and took us the few minutes drive to her home where she served us a huge and delicious beef wellington dinner. Time melted as we talked about everything and nothing. What mattered was that we were together. It was a treat to spend a bit of time with family that we rarely get to see, and a chance for Suzanne to connect names she has known to real live, loving people. The rest of the Hemel clan were otherwise committed for that Saturday, but we were delighted to be able to spend some quality time with Carol and Grant.

Places, it turns out, are not the only things with interesting histories. We are blessed with people memories from this weekend.
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