tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244976150636046092024-03-14T05:28:46.767+00:00the UK adventurejamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.comBlogger150125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-55414185103970589992008-08-08T18:26:00.001+01:002008-08-09T20:44:37.589+01:00the end!The sea shipment FINALLY made it back across the pond. Packed on May 30th, they must have attached a sail to the top of the shipping container and then floated it across the Atlantic to save on gas. <br /><br />Now we FINALLY have our mattress and box spring (good-bye sofa bed!), a desk for our computer stuff (we can finally hook up the printer), recipes and cookware (see ya later frozen chicken patties), my clothes (a suitcase worth isn't a lot for 2 months), etc., etc.<br /><br />Meanwhile, our furniture came out of storage, Pat came home, and the air shipment arrived. I think it's safe to say we're done (with the exception of damage claims and taxes). So if you're waiting around for another post, it may be a while—you'll have to wait for the next big adventure!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6JoFdK5BI/AAAAAAAABNk/uKeAtd9Wck8/s1600-h/DSCN4405a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6JoFdK5BI/AAAAAAAABNk/uKeAtd9Wck8/s400/DSCN4405a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187735142529688594" /></a>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-47247083697283572882008-06-30T12:00:00.002+01:002008-06-30T22:27:53.850+01:00exit interviewOk, so now that we're heading back to Cincinnati, it's time to reflect on the good, bad, and ugly...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Q:</span> What do you think you'll miss most?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Jamie) I guess there are quite a few things that come to mind and probably more once I get home. I'll miss the rolling grassy hills, the sheep, authentically old stuff, the idyllic quality of many towns, the reuse of old structures due to new development restrictions, the sunsets (when the sun is out), the absence of roadside billboards, and fewer commercials.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Pat) The flow of the countryside. The historic towns. Lack of puritanical ideas about TV and what is socially wrong to talk about. Absence of mixing religion and politics.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Q:</span> What are you looking forward to at home?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Jamie) Low prices, seeing friends & family, good food, more choices & variety (for just about everything), warmer temperatures, more sun, better customer service, having a dryer, having a garbage disposal, and being a person again. I will no longer be the "wife" or "spouse." Not that I don't enjoy being married to Pat, but come on.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Pat) Have to repeat Jamie in that I'm looking forward to the variety and convenience as well as customer service. But probably most would be our friends and family.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Q:</span> What has improved the most while you've been in England?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Jamie) The laundry process had improved until we got the new washer. I'd been able to make some progress—gentle cycle only, low spin, extra fabric softener, and longer dryer times. Dress shirts and all pants stay out of the dryer to prevent unremovable wrinkles. All-in-all was the same overall amount of time and I still do it 3-5 days a week, but at least we weren't exfoliating with our bath towels anymore. The new washer has no drying capabilities, so it's all drying rack. This means it's quicker to deal with the machine, longer until you have dry clothes, and we're exfoliating again. It does wash better though and isn't as loud.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Pat) Better understanding of how to easily get around. I feel like we suffered through learning about the train system and its quirks only to now leave. Should have added the trains to something I will miss; it makes getting around so easy and reasonably cheap.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Q:</span> Do you have a British accent?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Jamie) Definitely not, but I use the words "sort" (as in "figure out or organize") and "bit" ("thing") more.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Pat) Nope, but as Jamie points out I have picked up on the local sayings and intonations, though I still won't spell color with a "u" no matter how many times the spell checker at work tries to correct me.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Q:</span> Do you feel like you've immersed yourself in the culture?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Jamie) No, but mostly because I don't have to. I work with people in the US, watch US TV and movies most of the time, and am surviving on hoards of US products we brought over with us. Some don't exist here, and there weren't good replacements for others. For example, our experience trying to find a simple bar of soap that worked for us was futile. Apparently, the Brits are into moisturizing big time and the LAST thing Pat and I need is more oil. After many breakouts, we stocked up on 20 bars of Dial on a trip back to the US. Having to find all new brands and products is a whole other adventure I don't really want to deal with. Basically, I'm an American on a long vacation.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Pat) Yes. I spend the better part of my day with all British (aside from the occasional Italian or American). I've had greater exposure than Jamie to just the everyday bits I guess. This isn't to say I know everything there is to know about being a Brit, but I feel I got the whole treatment so to speak.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Q:</span> What was your best purchase for life on the isle?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Jamie) Ooh, that's a good question. I'd say it's a tie between tomtom (portable satellite navigation) and a rainproof, windproof jacket.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Pat) Tomtom, definitely tomtom. Being the designated driver all the time and knowing my patience, or lack thereof, for misdirections, it has been much better for our relationship to have an inanimate object to focus any misgivings. Besides, it's better than Jamie at reading maps (sorry), and I only have myself to blame for entering the wrong information.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Q:</span> What are you glad to leave behind?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Jamie) BT, HSBC, Cigna, stores that close at 5, sinks with separate hot and cold faucets a mile away, and the washer. Happily. The sinks are the stupidest thing ever. I guess they've been handed down from olde, but they haven't evolved at all and are no longer really functional. However, you will find them in virtually EVERY public restroom. Pat says they made sense in the days when you filled the basin to wash up. It's true that every one of these things has a stopper on a chain, but I have yet to see one person fill a sink in a public bathroom to wash their hands.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDXbIiI3RqI/AAAAAAAABkU/fWuk755cqeI/s1600-h/IMG_2969a.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDXbIiI3RqI/AAAAAAAABkU/fWuk755cqeI/s400/IMG_2969a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203305884145895074" border="0" /></a><br />There are lots of reasons why the sinks annoy me... 1) You have two faucets—one that gets instantly scalding and one that's ice... pick your poison. I've been known to use two sinks in the winter—I put my hands under one hot faucet to wet them. By the time my hands are soapy, it's too hot to go back so I turn on the hot faucet in the next sink to wash off. 2) The faucets are always teeny weeny and barely clear the edge of the sink making it very difficult to actually get your hands underneath without touching the sides of the public sink (ewww).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDXbIyI3RrI/AAAAAAAABkc/nH6k4XPMUYE/s1600-h/IMG_2972a.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDXbIyI3RrI/AAAAAAAABkc/nH6k4XPMUYE/s400/IMG_2972a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203305888440862386" border="0" /></a><br />3) That damn stopper that no one uses is hanging there for you to brush against while you're trying to squeeze your hands under the water (another ewww). 4) The little faucets are so far away that there's no way to get your hands under both at once to even out the effects of the temperature extremes. The moral of the story: pack hand sanitizer.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Pat) Have to share Jamie's dislike for the faucets, but I tended to try to wave my hands back and forth between the cold and hot fast enough that the pain receptors didn't kick in. But by far the thing I am happiest about leaving behind is the really really bad customer service from just about every major entity you have to deal with, phone company, bank, etc.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Q:</span> Would you do it again?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Jamie) It's hard to say but I think I would if the offer was right, however, I'd be a lot pickier now. It would have to be an interesting place that speaks English, not hurt us financially, have a better health plan, not be longer than a year, etc. It would be hard to repeat the set of circumstances that have allowed us to do this comfortably—friends to take care of our house, our cars, and family to take care of odds and ends. I wouldn't do it if we had a pet either—I think a Trans-Atlantic flight would be torture for animals.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A:</span> (Pat) No. This isn't to say I didn't enjoy traveling around Europe and experiencing new things, but the behind the scenes crap I had to deal with, mostly coming from a combination of J&J's inept relocation squad or Deloitte royally screwing us on some of the worst tax and financial handling ever, has made the logistics a real nightmare and something I wouldn't wish on anyone.jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-24623913237455580742008-06-25T09:03:00.001+01:002008-06-25T09:14:20.752+01:00funny signs, part 7This is the final funny signs (and other miscellaneous oddities) post. I'm sure there are a lot more out there waiting to be discovered, but you're just going to have to come over and find them on your own!<br /><br />Only in England do you play a sport (aka cricket) in a white v-neck sweater. (I think the guy in the lab coat is the referee)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFcc9YOyyI/AAAAAAAABuM/jzTOLq17p_g/s1600-h/IMG_1636a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFcc9YOyyI/AAAAAAAABuM/jzTOLq17p_g/s400/IMG_1636a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206544296799292194" /></a><br /><br />Only in England do people trust you to pay for parking using guilt alone. (And just so you don't get the wrong idea, this is exceptionally cheap parking.)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFcdQV_bbI/AAAAAAAABuU/1Db__zAAFmk/s1600-h/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+58a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFcdQV_bbI/AAAAAAAABuU/1Db__zAAFmk/s400/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+58a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206544301890170290" /></a><br /><br />Ok, now who in their right mind wants to buy a house on Bad Bargain Lane??<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFcdhYrNfI/AAAAAAAABuc/wuZlRki-E0g/s1600-h/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+55a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFcdhYrNfI/AAAAAAAABuc/wuZlRki-E0g/s400/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+55a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206544306464830962" /></a><br /><br />The British really don't like dogs fouling the pavement (aka pooping on the sidewalk). This dog looks mighty proud of the result though. I especially like the steam marks—it's fresh alright.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFcdn1ZliI/AAAAAAAABuk/J4YXJE_xaa8/s1600-h/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+57a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFcdn1ZliI/AAAAAAAABuk/J4YXJE_xaa8/s400/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+57a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206544308195923490" /></a><br /><br />I'm taking the A 1056 to Wide Open... <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFcd-CjQpI/AAAAAAAABus/L0Fy9yzg7v0/s1600-h/IMG_3035a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFcd-CjQpI/AAAAAAAABus/L0Fy9yzg7v0/s400/IMG_3035a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206544314156663442" /></a><br /><br />...right after getting to Burnmouth.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFdP7aW9rI/AAAAAAAABu0/JBeaZRiXLrY/s1600-h/IMG_2978a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFdP7aW9rI/AAAAAAAABu0/JBeaZRiXLrY/s400/IMG_2978a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206545172444673714" /></a><br /><br />I'm not sure if Scone Palace is in the town of Old Scone or New Scone, but I'm all for a palace dedicated to a bready treat.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFdQEjxLuI/AAAAAAAABu8/qSfLcKSFfgI/s1600-h/IMG_2887a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFdQEjxLuI/AAAAAAAABu8/qSfLcKSFfgI/s400/IMG_2887a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206545174900059874" /></a><br /><br />The British have an unending list of other funny town names that we haven't been able to get photos of—Newbiggin, Hornby, Bugthorpe, Sockburn, Bagby, Winksley, and Sandwich just to name a few.<br /><br />This is where Pat and I'd be without TomTom...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFdQXiV-TI/AAAAAAAABvE/ybeCbJIWdGo/s1600-h/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+56a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFdQXiV-TI/AAAAAAAABvE/ybeCbJIWdGo/s400/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+56a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206545179994356018" /></a><br /><br />Only France could get away with this one.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFdQSGLmhI/AAAAAAAABvM/mRCOi496tco/s1600-h/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+63a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFdQSGLmhI/AAAAAAAABvM/mRCOi496tco/s400/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+63a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206545178534058514" /></a><br /><br />Apparently at Versailles you have to be on the lookout for runaway wheelchairs near the stairs...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFeBkXq_WI/AAAAAAAABvU/H7RMsp6V7TA/s1600-h/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+61a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFeBkXq_WI/AAAAAAAABvU/H7RMsp6V7TA/s400/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+61a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206546025252846946" /></a><br /><br />And you should NEVER take your wheelchair into the fountain.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFeB9fohuI/AAAAAAAABvc/BsF0PkT8M6E/s1600-h/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+62.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEFeB9fohuI/AAAAAAAABvc/BsF0PkT8M6E/s400/FunnySignsEngland2007+-+62.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206546031997126370" /></a>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-30478399570547099112008-06-23T06:00:00.000+01:002008-06-23T06:09:00.434+01:00English Outdoor ArtLike in the US, the British make attempts at sharing artwork with the general population by displaying sculptures and other sturdy exhibitions outdorrs for all to see and touch. While walking into York the other day I noticed something different along many of the walls and all over town than the usual sculptures and historic displays that made me stop in my tracks.<br /><br />The British National Gallery currently has a painting exhibit going on in York, only it isn't being held indoors. Below is the photo of a real Van Gogh, one of the last paintings he did before taking his life, that is currently on display outside of a church building. There aren't any fences or barricades to keep anyone from walking right up to it and touching it (though since this is England I can almost garauntee that there are cameras pointed at it from multiple locations). <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4elVf1YgI/AAAAAAAAABc/LOgWoqMniq0/s1600-h/vangogh.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4elVf1YgI/AAAAAAAAABc/LOgWoqMniq0/s400/vangogh.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214639045316272642" /></a><br /><br />As this Rembrandt shows, the location of the displays are not just on grand buildings, but really most anywhere there is simply space to hang something. This painting happens to be a self portrait of the artist.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4elWHrEvI/AAAAAAAAABk/oGVsekZgVk4/s1600-h/rembrant.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4elWHrEvI/AAAAAAAAABk/oGVsekZgVk4/s400/rembrant.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214639045483369202" /></a><br /><br />As is stated on the placards to the side of each painting, the idea is to bring art into the community as opposed to having it locked up. One thing especially that took me by suprise is that these hang in their places day and night regardless of the weather (it has been raining here a lot lately too). I have to wonder if such a thing could be pulled off somewhere in the US.Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02712392975865498120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-3439119871824221362008-06-22T04:00:00.000+01:002008-06-22T10:30:34.234+01:00Europe and CarsI've never been the big car nut that knows all about the mechanical and electrical systems, and I couldn't tell you the year of the car simply by looking at it, but I do enjoy seeing them for both their beauty and engineering. While over here, I have had the chance to see how Europeans view autos and their related activities and since today is the F1 race at Magny Cours (France) I figure its about time to make a post devouted to vehicles.<br /><br />In general the average European car is much smaller than in the US as you wouldn't think of piling 5 people into a VW Golf back home where here it isn't even given a second thought. Now I know people are going to say that the gas here is more expensive and that's why they are smaller, which it is, but the main reason the cars are so much smaller on the whole is the road size, limit of space in general for a 2 ton behemoth, as well as the excellent public transportation, cars simply aren't needed as often and they have no need for them to be big.<br /><br />When Jamie and I were in Paris, one of the things they don't mention in many of the travel books is that the Champs-Elysees has many car manufacturer stores that show off their racing machines as well as concept cars (past and present). I don't mean the type of car racing that evolved from the prohibition era, turning suped up stock cars into the beer swilling monotony that has become NASCAR, but racing on roads or tracks that actually challenge the driver, by making them turn left AND right, and engineering skill such as F1 or 24 hour races.<br /><br />These are from the Renault show room:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DtyI3SdI/AAAAAAAABqs/p-hDPNayjI4/s1600-h/ParisFrance2008+-+063a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206094885584062930" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DtyI3SdI/AAAAAAAABqs/p-hDPNayjI4/s400/ParisFrance2008+-+063a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DuSI3SeI/AAAAAAAABq0/N8vFXv8LLIw/s1600-h/ParisFrance2008+-+064a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206094894173997538" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DuSI3SeI/AAAAAAAABq0/N8vFXv8LLIw/s400/ParisFrance2008+-+064a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And here is Peugot's current and former racing machines:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DZSI3SYI/AAAAAAAABqE/DcEq8_trOhc/s1600-h/ParisFrance2008+-+050a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206094533396744578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DZSI3SYI/AAAAAAAABqE/DcEq8_trOhc/s400/ParisFrance2008+-+050a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DZyI3SZI/AAAAAAAABqM/g4STk3mQhRM/s1600-h/ParisFrance2008+-+051a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206094541986679186" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DZyI3SZI/AAAAAAAABqM/g4STk3mQhRM/s400/ParisFrance2008+-+051a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />At Toyota they didn't have any of their racing cars, but did have a full blown concept car studio complete with car sketches in a simulated design studio as well as clay models and full size productions.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DayI3SaI/AAAAAAAABqU/98oWDrtwaOk/s1600-h/ParisFrance2008+-+054a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206094559166548386" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DayI3SaI/AAAAAAAABqU/98oWDrtwaOk/s400/ParisFrance2008+-+054a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DayI3SbI/AAAAAAAABqc/-7nXg4ydgDU/s1600-h/ParisFrance2008+-+055a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206094559166548402" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DayI3SbI/AAAAAAAABqc/-7nXg4ydgDU/s400/ParisFrance2008+-+055a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DbCI3ScI/AAAAAAAABqk/DK9AIXRsgQg/s1600-h/ParisFrance2008+-+056a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206094563461515714" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DbCI3ScI/AAAAAAAABqk/DK9AIXRsgQg/s400/ParisFrance2008+-+056a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DuiI3SfI/AAAAAAAABq8/26fmoeo-jdM/s1600-h/ParisFrance2008+-+057a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206094898468964850" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_DuiI3SfI/AAAAAAAABq8/26fmoeo-jdM/s400/ParisFrance2008+-+057a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This past weekend I had a chance to check out a classic car show near by. It was a bit odd as I'm used to seeing this sort of thing in a parking lot somewhere and not on the grounds of an 1800's estate. Brodsworth Hall hosted the car show in one of its gardens, which luckily for me was part of the English Heritage group (meant I got in free). It was mostly full of MGs, Triumphs, some Aston Martins, a couple of Porsches and the odd Rolls or Bentley. They did have one Mustang from the 70's, but as it had a giant confederate flag in the back window I decided to pass on taking its photo (who said hicks were confined to the US?).<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4adfYDhCI/AAAAAAAAAAs/PSF2xtvoBPY/s1600-h/jaguar.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4adfYDhCI/AAAAAAAAAAs/PSF2xtvoBPY/s400/jaguar.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214634512482534434" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4adZGmRlI/AAAAAAAAAA0/lfh1XLaDCsM/s1600-h/realold.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4adZGmRlI/AAAAAAAAAA0/lfh1XLaDCsM/s400/realold.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214634510798702162" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4adkOViUI/AAAAAAAAAA8/lZJmpTKWPu8/s1600-h/rowcars.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4adkOViUI/AAAAAAAAAA8/lZJmpTKWPu8/s400/rowcars.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214634513783949634" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4ad3Pg8xI/AAAAAAAAABE/5VUcf3rhqB0/s1600-h/whitecar.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4ad3Pg8xI/AAAAAAAAABE/5VUcf3rhqB0/s400/whitecar.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214634518889165586" /></a><br /><br />And last but not least, my personal favorite. I always liked the style of cars that took their design from a boating metaphor.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4a3KbZzzI/AAAAAAAAABM/xg1RkvPb2e0/s1600-h/bestcar.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4a3KbZzzI/AAAAAAAAABM/xg1RkvPb2e0/s400/bestcar.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214634953536032562" /></a><br /><br />This last image is for Jamie's uncle Chuck who is a big Triumph motorcycle nut. This is one of about 20 vintage motorcycles that were on hand, with the vast majority being Triumphs.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4a3E5WUlI/AAAAAAAAABU/zUldse1D-DE/s1600-h/triumph.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SF4a3E5WUlI/AAAAAAAAABU/zUldse1D-DE/s400/triumph.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214634952051020370" /></a>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-9343391871695355192008-06-20T17:45:00.008+01:002008-06-21T12:52:15.827+01:00The Longest Day of the YearSince we spent so much time moaning about the dark winter months, we thought we should give credit where credit's due. Today, on the summer solstice, the sun officially rose at 4:32am and set at 9:40pm.<br /><br />It was kind of cool to see this on the longest day of the year, a little mystical in a way, right outside our front window. This shot is from right around 10:00pm.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SFzO7Ng2KbI/AAAAAAAAAAc/_GbXdaOY7Ww/s1600-h/rainbow.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SFzO7Ng2KbI/AAAAAAAAAAc/_GbXdaOY7Ww/s400/rainbow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214269985223223730" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The whole story can't just be told though by sunrise/sunset times as that only says when can you actually see the sun. I think the more impressive times are when you look at dawn and dusk which is the time it actually is light outside. Today, dawn was at 3:38am and dusk was 10:35pm giving you a whopping 18 hour and 57 minute day.<br /><br />This photo was taken at 11:15pm and as you can see the sun is still not wanting to yield its reign.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SFzO7ddblZI/AAAAAAAAAAk/q5vtCBXXhDM/s1600-h/setting_sun.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SljWYNEzScU/SFzO7ddblZI/AAAAAAAAAAk/q5vtCBXXhDM/s400/setting_sun.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214269989503866258" border="0" /></a><br /><br />You'll have to forgive me for not waking up at 3am to show you that the sun is trying to come back already.<br /><br />All this daylight does have some disadvantages though. I hate going to bed when it's still daylight out (probably a holdover from when I was a kid fighting to stay up past bedtimes). And it also kind of sucks when you get woken up by the blinding sun and it's only 5:10 in the morning.jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-54799316905149005842008-06-15T09:00:00.000+01:002008-06-15T14:12:10.735+01:00Happy Father's Day!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD-_PyI3SXI/AAAAAAAABp8/u9ouZljWnDE/s1600-h/UK+favorites+-+094a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD-_PyI3SXI/AAAAAAAABp8/u9ouZljWnDE/s400/UK+favorites+-+094a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206089972141476210" /></a><br /><br />We wish a very happy Father's Day to our Dads!! We thought you might enjoy this wood carving of flowers more than the real thing. We hope you have a great day... Light up the barbeque and enjoy yourselves.<br /><br />An extra special "Happy Father's Day" to the newest Dad, Dan. We hope you and Gabe have a great day!jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-23920172621596469252008-06-08T10:00:00.000+01:002008-06-08T15:00:28.652+01:00Happy 60th DAD!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_rxYD0cYI/AAAAAAAABtc/NeOky1bTIyA/s1600-h/IMG_3122a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_rxYD0cYI/AAAAAAAABtc/NeOky1bTIyA/s400/IMG_3122a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206138927768170882" /></a><br /><br />It's a month early, I know, but we didn't want you to be the only one left out in the birthday fanfare, especially on your 60th. This is one of the few thatched roof cottages we've seen and has the nicest garden by far so we thought of you. Some of them even have decorative patterns made out of thatch along the ridge line. We hope you're having a good unbirthday and we'll see you on the real one!jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-75414975163854930102008-06-07T17:15:00.002+01:002008-06-07T17:32:48.867+01:00biking in YorkIf you lived and worked in or near York, it's very possible you could do away with your car. There are buses, but the bike system is impressive. There are bike lanes on roadways, bike parking at designated spots throughout the city, and even bike ramps on some stairways. I'd even hazard a guess that York is more bike-friendly than handicap-friendly. York has established bike routes and distributes maps showing bike-only areas, quiet roads, shared roads, etc. In fact, we live probably two blocks from a bike/walk path along the river.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_cEyI3StI/AAAAAAAABss/A80SCpfxnuQ/s1600-h/IMG_1637a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_cEyI3StI/AAAAAAAABss/A80SCpfxnuQ/s400/IMG_1637a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206121669000121042" /></a><br /><br />Bike parking at the York train station... well used.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_cFCI3SuI/AAAAAAAABs0/jkoi7YfDT2c/s1600-h/DSCN6266a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_cFCI3SuI/AAAAAAAABs0/jkoi7YfDT2c/s400/DSCN6266a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206121673295088354" /></a><br /><br />There are plenty of people who seem to use their bike as a commuting vehicle. I've seen all sorts of people riding—young, old, professionals in suits or high heels, families, etc. At rush hour, the cars and bikes back up. I've even seen moms with bike semis—one had a baby seat on the back of her bike for the youngest child and a training bike hooked to the back of hers for the older, another mom had a jerry-rigged wheelbarrow attachment on the front of her bike which carried a kid and dog.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEAhbYvldCI/AAAAAAAABt8/AYndQ-3TQNs/s1600-h/IMG_3269a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEAhbYvldCI/AAAAAAAABt8/AYndQ-3TQNs/s400/IMG_3269a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206197923622515746" /></a><br /><br />The beginning of rush hour.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEAhcIHyRKI/AAAAAAAABuE/-fu6ezKmRxk/s1600-h/IMG_3059a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEAhcIHyRKI/AAAAAAAABuE/-fu6ezKmRxk/s400/IMG_3059a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206197936340485282" /></a><br /><br />With all of that being said, I haven't used my bike as much as I thought I would and Pat actually never used his. When I'm not working and don't have a time schedule, there's no reason to go faster, so I walk. Walking is more flexible and you don't have to worry about your bike getting nicked (stolen) by gypsies, but that may have just been Christmastime. I thought my bike might come in handy for grocery shopping, but I've ended up walking for most of that too since Pat drives to get the bulk of it including frozen items.<br /><br />Even though cars are MUCH more respectful of bike riders here and give you plenty of room when they can (instead of veering into you), the roads are narrow so it does take some courage for me to get out there. I've really only ridden on the road with cars for short distances and have used the river path to get into the city or to visit the suburbs. It gets rural quickly as you ride away from our place and you end up crossing a cow pasture on a paved path.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_cFSI3SvI/AAAAAAAABs8/AW_zhvN8X8E/s1600-h/IMG_1874a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_cFSI3SvI/AAAAAAAABs8/AW_zhvN8X8E/s400/IMG_1874a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206121677590055666" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_cFSI3SxI/AAAAAAAABtM/3Zg58gNiTuw/s1600-h/IMG_2006a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_cFSI3SxI/AAAAAAAABtM/3Zg58gNiTuw/s400/IMG_2006a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206121677590055698" /></a><br /><br />Cattle grid on the bike path to keep those cows from escaping. Glad I have shocks for that ride :)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_cFSI3SwI/AAAAAAAABtE/Y4IPRY-2CeA/s1600-h/DSCN4952a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_cFSI3SwI/AAAAAAAABtE/Y4IPRY-2CeA/s400/DSCN4952a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206121677590055682" /></a><br /><br />While we were in Paris, we saw a much different kind of bike system. From what we could figure out (knowing we can't read French), it looks like you paid for some sort of card and swiped it at different stations throughout the city to borrow a city-owned bike. These bikes are made for outdoor living with big plastic shields covering all of the potentially rusty bits. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_dPiI3SyI/AAAAAAAABtU/tmIrT0TYMzo/s1600-h/IMG_848a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_dPiI3SyI/AAAAAAAABtU/tmIrT0TYMzo/s400/IMG_848a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206122953195342626" /></a><br />I assume you could ride as much as you want and then lock the bike up at a different station somewhere else. Most impressively, we noticed that the system is being USED. It's really pretty interesting and nice to see that people are getting creative about other forms of transportation. There's nothing healthier and less polluting than pedaling.<br /><br />The UK maybe takes that a little too far with the "Third York World Naked Bike Ride" deemed "...a colorful protest against car culture and a joint celebration of the bicycle and the human body." I thought this had to be a joke. Who would ride a bike naked? For 5 feet? Try 5 miles. Judging by the pictures on their website, there are some. Unfortunately, I'll miss the spectacle, but if we're lucky Pat might wander down and take some photos to report on it. For those concerned about modesty, you have to be at least 18 to ride. If you're curious, check out the <a href="http://www.worldnakedbikeride.org/uk/">website</a>. Think we could organize something like that in Cincinnati? Ha!jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-74911361547649941442008-06-03T14:03:00.022+01:002008-06-04T02:54:09.202+01:00food updateNow that we're getting ready to wrap up our UK adventure, it's time for a little food update. <br /><br /><br />What we like:<br /><br />• The ale, ciders, and shandies. Shandies are half beer and half lemonade or soda. They're really quite good (I even like them) and are refreshing when it's warmer out.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD-8RiI3SWI/AAAAAAAABp0/PUSUk0ZhTlo/s1600-h/KnaresboroughEngland2008+-+73a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD-8RiI3SWI/AAAAAAAABp0/PUSUk0ZhTlo/s400/KnaresboroughEngland2008+-+73a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206086703671363938" /></a><br /><br />• English tea. I don't know what it's really called, but there seems to be only one flavor. Herbal teas and crazy flavors are rare. Just about EVERYWHERE serves it, including pubs. You usually get a cute little teapot, cup and saucer, sugar cubes, and milk. Most English like milk in their tea (it is good). Not really a huge tea drinker in the US, I have grown to like it and after a day out in crisp, damp English weather, it's welcome.<br /><br />• Sticky Toffee Pudding, no question.<br /><br />• Spotted Dick. Yep, that's right Spotted Dick. When my Aunt Pat and Uncle Chuck were here, it was on the menu in a pub and curiosity got the better of us. Perhaps involves a banana? Nope. Turns out, it's a yellow cake with currants (look like raisins to me and must be the "spots") smothered in a thick... yellowish... cream sauce. Good stuff once you get past the name. Considering this desert has been around for over 200 years that doesn't seem to be a problem for most people.<br /><br />• Buying fresh bread from the bakery across the Green. They're humorous extra-tall loaves that tend to flop over the top of the toaster, but they make a filling sandwich. This photo was taken while toasting. If you want the whole thing toasted, you have to do it twice and flip.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD-7GiI3SUI/AAAAAAAABpk/8R7H__RjOWs/s1600-h/IMG_3042a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD-7GiI3SUI/AAAAAAAABpk/8R7H__RjOWs/s400/IMG_3042a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206085415181175106" /></a><br /><br />• Cumberland Sausage. A big hit with Pat and Uncle Chuck, this one's native to the Lake District. The English love a good sausage so there's plenty more to pick from. Of course, none of them are spicy like Italian sausage and there's no turkey sausage so we've been more limited on our recipes.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_-VqFdK5DI/AAAAAAAABN0/VmbEbnjsLJk/s1600-h/Cumberlandsausage.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_-VqFdK5DI/AAAAAAAABN0/VmbEbnjsLJk/s400/Cumberlandsausage.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188029846005670962" /></a><br /><br />• Fish & Chips. These can be purchased at your local "chippy" and are usually takeaway. The right ones can be really tasty—certainly not good for you, but good. Oh, and it's best to split one order of chips, there's always a mountain. Pat prefers curry sauce on the chips. Mushy peas are also a popular side dish. Personally, I think they look like baby food or stomach contents.<br /><br />• Indian food. A first for me, Stephanie and Greg were able to help suggest what to order. It's pretty darn good and probably deserves some more exploration when we get home. We've also done some experimentation with some tasty curry sauces from the grocery. Curry's the national food over here.<br /><br />• Smaller portions. Both in the grocery store and at restaurants, food isn't presented in the mounds that it is in the states. Smaller servings, smaller packages. I guess it makes sense for the smaller refrigerators, smaller storage, and people walking to and from the groceries. If you had a big family, this would be really annoying.<br /><br /><br />What we've learned:<br /><br />• Romaine lettuce masquerades as "cos" in this country. It's still not available in all the grocery stores, but is easier to find when you know what you're looking for. It's also an item that is superior in the US—it can tend to be a little squishy here, not quite as crisp as in the US.<br /><br />• Almost all eggs here are free range. They have tan shells, most have lighter color yolks, and they routinely come with feathers stuck to the shell. It reminds me of <span style="font-style:italic;">That 70s Show</span> when prissy Jackie won't touch an egg because it came out of a chicken's butt. Well, some downy white feathers and some specks of what I hope is dirt are a big reminder of that. In the grocery, they're stocked on non-refrigerated shelves which is a little creepy–you're still suppose to put them in the refrigerator at home. Sorry Dad—we haven't seen a double yoke.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_-VfldK5CI/AAAAAAAABNs/YIS5556Zc4g/s1600-h/DSCN6459a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_-VfldK5CI/AAAAAAAABNs/YIS5556Zc4g/s400/DSCN6459a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188029665617044514" /></a><br /><br />• Cheddar cheese is usually not yellow for reasons we don't understand. It looks like mozzarella, but tastes like cheddar. I'm almost afraid to ask why—are Americans just too hooked on the yellow food dye? We've also learned that when you order it for sandwiches, it's usually not sliced, but shredded on top which is messier.<br /><br />• Bacon is more like country ham than what we would consider bacon. It's leaner, thicker, and not crispy. You just have to mentally reconfigure your expectations.<br /><br />• Pudding can be used as a general term for any old desert here whether or not it includes anything of pudding-like substance. Watch out for Black Pudding though—that's not a chocolate dessert or sweet, but is a combination of pig's blood, milk, oatmeal, barley, suet, breadcrumbs, pepper, and mint. It usually comes with breakfast.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD-7jiI3SVI/AAAAAAAABps/4G6tL12xGUQ/s1600-h/56110373.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD-7jiI3SVI/AAAAAAAABps/4G6tL12xGUQ/s400/56110373.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206085913397381458" /></a><br />Pat and Uncle Chuck like it ok. Yorkshire Pudding is also not a desert, but a small, pastry-like bread bowl usually served with meat that I guess you could pour gravy into. Confusing, huh?<br /><br />• At Christmastime in London, I found an advertisement for "tasty seasonal treats" including "...a truly traditional three-bird meal—a pigeon inside a duck inside a chicken, with game chips, bread sauce and onion gravy." If that doesn't float your boat, you also had the option of "...two pheasants inside a chicken, inside a goose." With all of the birds we've seen running wild in the countryside, I guess it's not surprising they're packing them together like Matryoshka (nesting) dolls.<br /><br /><br />What we won't miss:<br /><br />• The beef and salmon. It's really hard to find good stuff.<br /><br />• Super-salty snacks.<br /><br />• Prawn-flavored everything.<br /><br />• The lack of variety. Arugula doesn't seem to exist. Neither does Pillsbury or anything resembling a ready-made, put in the oven food (outside of frozen dinners of course). All of this has limited what we can cook. There is one box of one flavor of brownie mix at our local Tescos and maybe one flavor of cake mix.<br /><br />• Being disappointed with restaurants on a regular basis.jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-43143340837175961762008-05-30T09:55:00.001+01:002008-06-04T03:04:48.296+01:00the wildlifeOk, they're not so wild, but there are lots of fun creatures here...<br /><br />Sheep. I know we've covered them, but look... brown and black ones!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEAFOm-eWJI/AAAAAAAABts/2LrGCPSlPmw/s1600-h/IMG_3066a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEAFOm-eWJI/AAAAAAAABts/2LrGCPSlPmw/s400/IMG_3066a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206166917779183762" /></a><br /><br />With sheep come sheep dogs. We haven't personally seen them in action, but have seen their herding expertise on TV. This one was exceptionally friendly, coming up to us as we walked on a footpath through his turf.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_KeiI3SgI/AAAAAAAABrE/p6PeIKUPIHg/s1600-h/DSCN9879a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_KeiI3SgI/AAAAAAAABrE/p6PeIKUPIHg/s400/DSCN9879a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206102320172452354" /></a><br /><br />Cows. There are the regular cows of course. I disturbed this herd during a siesta and was able to convince them I wasn't a threat. They weren't scared by an approaching dog either which was weird. What happens when cows and dogs play chicken? The cows win.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_UxSI3SsI/AAAAAAAABsk/HlSyVRlfjwE/s1600-h/IMG_2072a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_UxSI3SsI/AAAAAAAABsk/HlSyVRlfjwE/s400/IMG_2072a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206113637411277506" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_OxiI3SoI/AAAAAAAABsE/sxV_QYsOg7U/s1600-h/IMG_2085b.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_OxiI3SoI/AAAAAAAABsE/sxV_QYsOg7U/s400/IMG_2085b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206107044636478082" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_L_iI3SkI/AAAAAAAABrk/TzbX0yckKTw/s1600-h/IMG_2091a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_L_iI3SkI/AAAAAAAABrk/TzbX0yckKTw/s400/IMG_2091a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206103986619763266" /></a><br /><br />Then there's the Highland cattle and this weird Oreo cow. My Aunt Pat and Uncle Chuck saw more of these Oreo cows than we have on their trip and it seems to be more of a breed than an accident. They're jet black with a thick white band around their stomachs.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_MjiI3SlI/AAAAAAAABrs/YHAqioHa-T4/s1600-h/IMG_2366a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_MjiI3SlI/AAAAAAAABrs/YHAqioHa-T4/s400/IMG_2366a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206104605095053906" /></a><br /><br />Check out this special Highland cow trick—they can lick the inside of their nostrils, no problem.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEAGtIQoUJI/AAAAAAAABt0/q_gRttxqoMw/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+190a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEAGtIQoUJI/AAAAAAAABt0/q_gRttxqoMw/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+190a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206168541621407890" /></a><br /><br />Horses. We've seen plenty of horses around here as riding is a popular past time and racing is a big deal. Even in the mild winters, every horse you pass is wearing a coat.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_NAyI3SmI/AAAAAAAABr0/l7JRlRoOkMY/s1600-h/UK+favorites+-+499a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_NAyI3SmI/AAAAAAAABr0/l7JRlRoOkMY/s400/UK+favorites+-+499a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206105107606227554" /></a><br /><br />Check out those doe eyes. This guy is begging for something better tasting than grass. Little does he know the sign cautions against it. He reminds me of Puss in Boots from <span style="font-style:italic;">Shrek</span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEAEJZue7BI/AAAAAAAABtk/EiHzoulO66I/s1600-h/IMG_3150a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SEAEJZue7BI/AAAAAAAABtk/EiHzoulO66I/s400/IMG_3150a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206165728811478034" /></a><br /><br />Pheasants. These little buggers are hard to catch on film (or digital media as the case may be). They're small, skittish, don't hold still, and can obviously fly away. We've zoomed past lots of them in the car (dead and alive) and can often here them squawking in fields. They're actually quite pretty birds. This is the best I could do—look for the small blob walking among the sheep.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_NxyI3SnI/AAAAAAAABr8/yO9xuuCj-g0/s1600-h/DSCN9833a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_NxyI3SnI/AAAAAAAABr8/yO9xuuCj-g0/s400/DSCN9833a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206105949419817586" /></a><br /><br />Ducks & Swans. The River Ouse here in York, like many of the other rivers and waterways in the country, is full of them. Swans especially seem to be a part of the natural environment and aren't relegated to "managed" areas. Some ducks and mallards seem extra happy in some of the little man-made oases we've seen.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_QECI3SpI/AAAAAAAABsM/Jq4RwV4nhNI/s1600-h/York+Summer+2007+-+281a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_QECI3SpI/AAAAAAAABsM/Jq4RwV4nhNI/s400/York+Summer+2007+-+281a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206108461975685778" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_T2SI3SqI/AAAAAAAABsU/SpBUruXRC0Q/s1600-h/IMG_1966a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_T2SI3SqI/AAAAAAAABsU/SpBUruXRC0Q/s400/IMG_1966a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206112623798995618" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_T3CI3SrI/AAAAAAAABsc/9CRfllJ0dX4/s1600-h/IMG_2037a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_T3CI3SrI/AAAAAAAABsc/9CRfllJ0dX4/s400/IMG_2037a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206112636683897522" /></a><br /><br />Seagulls. Some pretty, some in camouflage.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_K4SI3ShI/AAAAAAAABrM/ws9GdMIuORE/s1600-h/IMG_0174a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_K4SI3ShI/AAAAAAAABrM/ws9GdMIuORE/s400/IMG_0174a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206102762554083858" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_K4yI3SiI/AAAAAAAABrU/5zY7wmo4FlQ/s1600-h/UK+favorites+-+445a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SD_K4yI3SiI/AAAAAAAABrU/5zY7wmo4FlQ/s400/UK+favorites+-+445a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206102771144018466" /></a><br /><br />Squirrels on the other hand are rare and your attention is even called to their presence. We passed a road sign before one of the few "forests" we've seen warning you to watch out for them. I really wish I'd gotten a picture of that one—the icon looked like Chip & Dale, a happy little squirrel holding a nut. We haven't seen or heard of any raccoons or possums either. The public nuisance around here is pigeons.jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-15606817644388095472008-05-27T10:00:00.004+01:002008-05-27T20:08:50.415+01:00wanted: pet sheepEver since I first heard a sheep "baaaah" in person, I've been sold on them. First of all, it makes me bust out laughing every time since it sounds like there's a human hiding behind the fence pretending to be a sheep. Who knows, it might have been Pat— he can do a pretty darn good imitation. Then there's their undeniable cuteness—from their innocent little faces to their little puffy tails.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxPZ6YxxbI/AAAAAAAABfc/CGoLRCr-XqU/s1600-h/IMG_0937a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxPZ6YxxbI/AAAAAAAABfc/CGoLRCr-XqU/s400/IMG_0937a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196115376667215282" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6BGldK46I/AAAAAAAABMs/2KtskTXkky8/s1600-h/DSCN9875a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6BGldK46I/AAAAAAAABMs/2KtskTXkky8/s400/DSCN9875a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187725770911048610" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6BPVdK47I/AAAAAAAABM0/JRoSn-2SZzI/s1600-h/DSCN9795a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6BPVdK47I/AAAAAAAABM0/JRoSn-2SZzI/s400/DSCN9795a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187725921234903986" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6BZFdK48I/AAAAAAAABM8/4S8LXLgSwI8/s1600-h/DSCN9866a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6BZFdK48I/AAAAAAAABM8/4S8LXLgSwI8/s400/DSCN9866a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187726088738628546" /></a><br /><br />They're even cute running around naked after they've been shorn—and even more skittish. And who'd blame them?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6EdFdK4_I/AAAAAAAABNU/FxmjZcpzKa0/s1600-h/DSCN4029a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6EdFdK4_I/AAAAAAAABNU/FxmjZcpzKa0/s400/DSCN4029a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187729455992988658" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6ElldK5AI/AAAAAAAABNc/mXKRpxEy82I/s1600-h/DSCN4014a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6ElldK5AI/AAAAAAAABNc/mXKRpxEy82I/s400/DSCN4014a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187729602021876738" /></a><br />(Don't worry, not a blood sacrifice, just spray paint)<br /><br />So the obvious conclusion is that we must get a pet sheep. And since, from experience, we know that one will get lonely, we better get two. We've already named them—Captain Chubkins and Fluffy. Who wouldn't want a peaceful little puff-ball meandering in their yard?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6ARFdK43I/AAAAAAAABMU/qhMmLGUrCqc/s1600-h/IMG_2188a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6ARFdK43I/AAAAAAAABMU/qhMmLGUrCqc/s400/IMG_2188a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187724851788047218" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6AcFdK44I/AAAAAAAABMc/j4SjBGjPFfo/s1600-h/DSCN9850a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6AcFdK44I/AAAAAAAABMc/j4SjBGjPFfo/s400/DSCN9850a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187725040766608258" /></a><br /><br />We've already thought it out—we could rotate them between the .057 acres in our front yard and the .057 acres in the back. They would be able to handle the hill well and could probably survive most of the winter outside. When it gets really cold out, we could herd them into the dirt room under the porch. Can sheep climb stairs?<br /><br />They're so orderly... we've caught them on several occasions "following the leader" through a perfectly open field. Maybe it's just because they're English sheep—everyone says the Brits like to queue up.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6CtldK49I/AAAAAAAABNE/wRAfs_kU668/s1600-h/DSCN8905b.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6CtldK49I/AAAAAAAABNE/wRAfs_kU668/s400/DSCN8905b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187727540437574610" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6DBVdK4-I/AAAAAAAABNM/Y-VF0rHd5SE/s1600-h/DSCN9845a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_6DBVdK4-I/AAAAAAAABNM/Y-VF0rHd5SE/s400/DSCN9845a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187727879739991010" /></a><br /><br />Now, don't worry, this isn't some twisted Marie Antoinette thing where we're going to perfume the sheep, create a fake country village for them, and pretend to be Mary herding her little lambs. We're realistic. We're logical. So we've created a list of pros and cons to examine the situation.<br /><br />Pros:<br />• We have more sun in the back yard now so the grass might actually grow.<br />• We could get rid of the lawnmower. Maybe we could even rent them out to trim other people's lawns.<br />• We could charge the neighborhood children to pet them.<br />• Their poo seems to be smaller than a dog of the same size.<br />• Well fertilized lawns.<br />• They don't seem to stink.<br />• We wouldn't need to buy them toys or beds.<br />• I'm pretty handy with scissors.<br />• We could gradually add renewable insulation to the attic.<br />• I could start a knitting industry—Scarves 'r Us.<br />• We'd get lots of exercise trying to catch them as they're quite skittish.<br /><br />Cons:<br />• Johnson & Johnson probably wouldn't pay to ship them back to the states and they won't fit in my carry-on.<br />• City of Cincinnati laws don't allow farm animals in residential areas.<br />• We would have to install a sheep-proof electric fence since we know they have no fear of roadways.<br />• We would have to buy stock in grass seed.<br />• We would have to find a sheep vet.<br />• They would have to be the same sex or neutered—as cute as the lambs are, I'm not interested in breeding.<br />• The kennel probably wouldn't take them when we go on vacation.<br />• Sheep tend to run away from me baaing an alarm call.<br /><br />So, because of pesky laws and all that stuff, we decided it wasn't going to work for us. We compromised on a much smaller, cleaner, and less demanding alternative...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCNjO8oI1XI/AAAAAAAABi0/fUqhYZ7HLLc/s1600-h/IMG_1868a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCNjO8oI1XI/AAAAAAAABi0/fUqhYZ7HLLc/s400/IMG_1868a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198107503359481202" /></a><br />...a miniature stuffed sheep. His name is Captain Fluffy.jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-4787717906161014992008-05-25T13:30:00.000+01:002008-05-25T13:37:04.040+01:00Happy Birthday MOLLY!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCIpXMoI1CI/AAAAAAAABgM/zxZ4CMgjr9w/s1600-h/ParisFrance2008+-+140a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCIpXMoI1CI/AAAAAAAABgM/zxZ4CMgjr9w/s400/ParisFrance2008+-+140a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197762398442279970" /></a><br /><br />Happy Birthday from Notre Dame! Hope you're having a great day and we look forward to seeing you and the rest of the family when we get home.jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-68317344671011488592008-05-23T20:00:00.000+01:002008-05-23T20:15:09.318+01:00Scotland road tripEver since we went to Edinburgh, we've been interested in seeing more of Scotland, the Highlands and Isle of Skye specifically. We decided there's probably no better time to do it. One of Pat's Scottish co-workers, Duncan, (the guy who invited us for Burns Night) provided us with a great driving itinerary that covered a lot of the highlights. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDcXFSI3STI/AAAAAAAABpc/qyhTMGgbIoE/s1600-h/ScotlandMapA.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDcXFSI3STI/AAAAAAAABpc/qyhTMGgbIoE/s400/ScotlandMapA.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203653273985698098" /></a><br /><br />We had our trusty portable navigation device, TomTom, to get us around, but I have to say that the little devil let us down once on this trip. When our backs were turned, he decided the fastest route to the Isle of Skye was via a ferry, however, he DIDN'T factor in the time needed to wait for the ferry, the ferry journey time, or the exorbitant cost. Our 2 hour delay cut into the only real hiking time we had planned for the trip. Although we kicked ourselves for not keeping a closer eye on him, we actually saw some really great things along that route, enjoyed the ferry ride, and it prevented the only double-back we would have had. We even saw some areas along the coast up there that were as crystal clear and brilliantly blue as the Caribbean and even had white, sandy beaches to match. Who would have thought?<br /><br />Turns out this was a great time of year to go to Scotland—it's just before the high season, it has started getting warmer, and the midges haven't come out yet. From what I understand, midges are some kind of super-persistent mosquito-like nuisance. We actually had unbelievable weather with, dare I say, SUN, and, for a change, Scotland was having better weather than the south. So we were very lucky. As Pat said, he doesn't understand why the Scottish are always complaining about their weather :)<br /><br />This was a roadtrip of the sort I've never attempted before. Each day we were on the road between 3-6 hours, stopping here and there to take pictures and see stuff. Not long distances for an American roadtrip, I know, but long enough for us. Each night we were in a different B&B/hotel. There are some positives to this kind of trip—you get to see a lot of stuff and it's ok if the B&B sucks because you're only there one night anyway. The negatives are that, for me, you become a car zombie (especially since poor Pat had to do all of the driving), too much time in one place can really impact your day, and you get really sick of being in the car and just want to get to the B&B and sleep.<br /><br />Before you plan your trip to Scotland, there are a couple of things you should know: <br />1. It's a nature-lover's paradise, but city folk will be bored out of their noggin. Rick Steves says that the Isle of Skye specifically has "more sheep than people" and I think that's true of many areas.<br />2. It's like the English Lakes on steroids and parts of it feel like Colorado or California. <br />3. Unlike England, they actually have forests. England was deforested quite a while ago and, from what I've seen, I'd guess most of their wood comes from man-made foresting projects in Scotland. There's a lot of pine forests, which we love, and it reminds us of Vermont.<br />4. They have good seafood up there because a lot of the lochs are connected to the sea. <br />5. People are very friendly.<br />6. There really aren't that many roads and many are single-track with passing places (that's ok because once you get north of Glasgow/Edinburgh, there's virtually no traffic). Even though there's not much traffic, you do run into some obstacles...<br /><br />Cows on the road...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa2HSI3RsI/AAAAAAAABkk/phhb1YlKjYI/s1600-h/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+025a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa2HSI3RsI/AAAAAAAABkk/phhb1YlKjYI/s400/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+025a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203546655717541570" /></a><br /><br />Sheep on the road...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa2YyI3RtI/AAAAAAAABks/XL32doO5hbI/s1600-h/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+027a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa2YyI3RtI/AAAAAAAABks/XL32doO5hbI/s400/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+027a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203546956365252306" /></a><br /><br />Construction equipment blocking the road...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa2ZCI3RuI/AAAAAAAABk0/AHnZGM6GRuM/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+147a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa2ZCI3RuI/AAAAAAAABk0/AHnZGM6GRuM/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+147a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203546960660219618" /></a><br /><br />Big old tour buses. Pro: they clear single track roads for you (who's going to challenge that bohemeth?) Con: it can be slow going.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa2ZCI3RvI/AAAAAAAABk8/IlHHxxSdclk/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+148a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa2ZCI3RvI/AAAAAAAABk8/IlHHxxSdclk/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+148a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203546960660219634" /></a><br /><br />The best part about Scotland is the incredible scenery. It's virtually everywhere and a little sun really helps it sparkle. So enough talking about the place, this is what we saw...<br /><br />Loch Lomond<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa45yI3RwI/AAAAAAAABlE/xkynUXHkfXc/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+023a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa45yI3RwI/AAAAAAAABlE/xkynUXHkfXc/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+023a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203549722324190978" /></a><br /><br />Loch Linnhe<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa46CI3RxI/AAAAAAAABlM/Ik8WMLyMBOQ/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+106a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa46CI3RxI/AAAAAAAABlM/Ik8WMLyMBOQ/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+106a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203549726619158290" /></a><br /><br />Glencoe<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa46CI3RyI/AAAAAAAABlU/2NmP8RNHAO0/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+061a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa46CI3RyI/AAAAAAAABlU/2NmP8RNHAO0/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+061a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203549726619158306" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa46iI3RzI/AAAAAAAABlc/J5pyM6bujVQ/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+071a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa46iI3RzI/AAAAAAAABlc/J5pyM6bujVQ/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+071a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203549735209092914" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa5XSI3R0I/AAAAAAAABlk/gBRM9ltEtNc/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+064a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa5XSI3R0I/AAAAAAAABlk/gBRM9ltEtNc/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+064a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203550229130331970" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa5XiI3R1I/AAAAAAAABls/aDYMjeecXtc/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+047a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa5XiI3R1I/AAAAAAAABls/aDYMjeecXtc/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+047a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203550233425299282" /></a><br /><br />The Glenfinnan Monument on the shore of Loch Shiel. It was built in 1815 to commemorate the Jacobites who fought and fell during the 1745 uprising. That was a big (and bloody) turning point in Scottish history putting them firmly under English rule once and for all.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa5XyI3R2I/AAAAAAAABl0/rxHF39l6wEQ/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+125a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa5XyI3R2I/AAAAAAAABl0/rxHF39l6wEQ/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+125a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203550237720266594" /></a><br /><br />Recognize this? It's a viaduct for the Jacobite Steam Railway better known as Hogwarts Express. The movies use this journey for the scenery and the flying car flew through these arches on the way to Hogwarts.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa5XyI3R3I/AAAAAAAABl8/DQcCxtdaIh4/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+132a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa5XyI3R3I/AAAAAAAABl8/DQcCxtdaIh4/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+132a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203550237720266610" /></a><br /><br />The ferry to the Isle of Skye.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa9qCI3R4I/AAAAAAAABmE/COILEUNF3qk/s1600-h/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+011a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa9qCI3R4I/AAAAAAAABmE/COILEUNF3qk/s400/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+011a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203554949299390338" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa9qSI3R5I/AAAAAAAABmM/jsDBu-AFVeo/s1600-h/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+005a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa9qSI3R5I/AAAAAAAABmM/jsDBu-AFVeo/s400/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+005a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203554953594357650" /></a><br /><br />By the time we arrived at our hiking destination on the Isle of Skye and cleared the tree line, our destination, a huge rock formation called the Old Man of Storr, was becoming increasingly shrouded in low cloud making the rest of the climb somewhat dangerous and making the great views impossible to see. We decided to turn around and go to Talisker, a Scotch distillery, instead.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa9qiI3R6I/AAAAAAAABmU/uZ5bvjMhdjk/s1600-h/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+045a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa9qiI3R6I/AAAAAAAABmU/uZ5bvjMhdjk/s400/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+045a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203554957889324962" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa9qyI3R7I/AAAAAAAABmc/wozRgGvKDFE/s1600-h/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+050a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDa9qyI3R7I/AAAAAAAABmc/wozRgGvKDFE/s400/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+050a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203554962184292274" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbvjCI3R8I/AAAAAAAABmk/t5jOCuRA0TA/s1600-h/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+077a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbvjCI3R8I/AAAAAAAABmk/t5jOCuRA0TA/s400/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+077a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203609804621694914" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbvkCI3R9I/AAAAAAAABms/eyIgPuVMu2s/s1600-h/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+068a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbvkCI3R9I/AAAAAAAABms/eyIgPuVMu2s/s400/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+068a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203609821801564114" /></a><br /><br />Our hotel room on the Isle of Skye. As Pat said, it looked like a tartan factory exploded. It was worse in the common areas with tartan carpet and upholstery.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbvkSI3R-I/AAAAAAAABm0/5NS2dTGFjGE/s1600-h/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+085a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbvkSI3R-I/AAAAAAAABm0/5NS2dTGFjGE/s400/IsleofSkyeScotland2008+-+085a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203609826096531426" /></a><br /><br />A hairy cow! I don't know what they're really called, but I love these things although I'd never want to meet one face to face. I especially like the comb over—how can that thing see? My aunt Pat appropriately described one she saw while here as a prehistoric beast. I think that about sums it up.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbvkSI3R_I/AAAAAAAABm8/P_Wsxkjn6lI/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+181a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbvkSI3R_I/AAAAAAAABm8/P_Wsxkjn6lI/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+181a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203609826096531442" /></a><br /><br />Yes, bilingual signs (English/Scottish Gaelic). In some cases the English isn't much easier to read.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbxLyI3SAI/AAAAAAAABnE/Qxm2qpOOUZM/s1600-h/EileanDonanScotland2008+-+26a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbxLyI3SAI/AAAAAAAABnE/Qxm2qpOOUZM/s400/EileanDonanScotland2008+-+26a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203611604212992002" /></a><br /><br />Eilean Donan Castle (Scottish Gaelic for Island of Donan) is a beautiful place surrounded by the tidal waters of Loch Duich. After being a ruin for a long time, it was reconstructed in the early 1900s as a personal residence for a clansman. Since the remaining walls and foundations were used as a guide, it's relatively accurate. You might recognize it from the movie <span style="font-style:italic;">Highlander</span>. Apparently it also has some tie to 007.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbxMCI3SBI/AAAAAAAABnM/rU-uEM83K98/s1600-h/EileanDonanScotland2008+-+19a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbxMCI3SBI/AAAAAAAABnM/rU-uEM83K98/s400/EileanDonanScotland2008+-+19a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203611608507959314" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbxMSI3SCI/AAAAAAAABnU/VXPdlPBthuk/s1600-h/EileanDonanScotland2008+-+32a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbxMSI3SCI/AAAAAAAABnU/VXPdlPBthuk/s400/EileanDonanScotland2008+-+32a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203611612802926626" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbxMiI3SDI/AAAAAAAABnc/gcOdTCkp2LY/s1600-h/EileanDonanScotland2008+-+70a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDbxMiI3SDI/AAAAAAAABnc/gcOdTCkp2LY/s400/EileanDonanScotland2008+-+70a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203611617097893938" /></a><br /><br />Urquhart Castle on Loch Ness. Sorry, no Nessie sightings to speak of.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDby_CI3SEI/AAAAAAAABnk/EFa_PlnjWBg/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+194a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDby_CI3SEI/AAAAAAAABnk/EFa_PlnjWBg/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+194a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203613584192915522" /></a><br /><br />There are, however, some very odd rows of bubbles in many of the lochs. You can see them as white lines in this photo traversing the waves. I read an explanation of this, but can't begin to explain it—talk to an oceanographer.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDby_iI3SFI/AAAAAAAABns/vYnCBof7wMo/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+200a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDby_iI3SFI/AAAAAAAABns/vYnCBof7wMo/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+200a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203613592782850130" /></a><br /><br />That's Pat standing on the very first golf course in St. Andrews. Who knew the Scots invented golf? I didn't, but apparently lots of other Americans do. The town was saturated with the golfing elite. I heard one American ask a waitress if she knew how to play the bagpipes... then it was time to cower and flee.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb1DyI3SGI/AAAAAAAABn0/Cg1kIK_7pDI/s1600-h/St.AndrewsScotland2008+-+03a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb1DyI3SGI/AAAAAAAABn0/Cg1kIK_7pDI/s400/St.AndrewsScotland2008+-+03a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203615864820549730" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb1ECI3SHI/AAAAAAAABn8/XQeas_vKJ1U/s1600-h/St.AndrewsScotland2008+-+11a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb1ECI3SHI/AAAAAAAABn8/XQeas_vKJ1U/s400/St.AndrewsScotland2008+-+11a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203615869115517042" /></a><br /><br />The Wallace Monument in Stirling. Yes, William Wallace of <span style="font-style:italic;">Braveheart</span> fame. Built in 1869 on top of a hill, the monument commemorates the underdog Scottish victory at Stirling Bridge and inspired the movie (one of my favorites). It can be seen for miles around.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDcTmSI3SRI/AAAAAAAABpM/LJkSXQ5ILag/s1600-h/WallaceMonumentScotland2008+-+04a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDcTmSI3SRI/AAAAAAAABpM/LJkSXQ5ILag/s400/WallaceMonumentScotland2008+-+04a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203649442874870034" /></a><br /><br />This is where I learned the limits of my travel flexibility. I'm not as picky about the quality of the amenities, but a bathtub with a hand-held shower head? Never again. I'd even rather be in a standing shower so small that I'm either touching the curtain or the wall the whole time, although that's not my preference either. Weirdly, Pat was fine with it. I attribute it to less hair.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDcTmiI3SSI/AAAAAAAABpU/IuSN63_feV8/s1600-h/IMG_2973a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDcTmiI3SSI/AAAAAAAABpU/IuSN63_feV8/s400/IMG_2973a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203649447169837346" /></a><br /><br />Our favorite places were Glencoe, the lochs around Glencoe, the Eilean Donan Castle, and one of our B&Bs Coig na Shee. Loch Ness wasn't all that spectacular although it is huge. Other lochs are prettier, but they don't have monsters. <br /><br />Coig na Shee was the best B&B we've ever stayed in and the cheapest one of our trip, go figure. It's almost worth going back to Scotland to spend more time there. Not only was the place nice, but there was a walking trail that literally wrapped around it taking you through some beautiful scenery including an abandoned mill town, Milton (clever naming), that was really reduced to a barely perceptible archaeological site.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb1ECI3SII/AAAAAAAABoE/pHLQEbGuG0g/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+215a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb1ECI3SII/AAAAAAAABoE/pHLQEbGuG0g/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+215a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203615869115517058" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2lyI3SJI/AAAAAAAABoM/UlB9nOIZVgY/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+238a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2lyI3SJI/AAAAAAAABoM/UlB9nOIZVgY/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+238a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203617548447729810" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2mCI3SKI/AAAAAAAABoU/2iGYOJKfrR8/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+259a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2mCI3SKI/AAAAAAAABoU/2iGYOJKfrR8/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+259a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203617552742697122" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2mSI3SLI/AAAAAAAABoc/puDBJ9DRdvw/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+295a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2mSI3SLI/AAAAAAAABoc/puDBJ9DRdvw/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+295a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203617557037664434" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2miI3SMI/AAAAAAAABok/-jALQslzuJE/s1600-h/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+279a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2miI3SMI/AAAAAAAABok/-jALQslzuJE/s400/ScotlandRoadTrip2008+-+279a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203617561332631746" /></a><br /><br />On the way home, we stopped at Lindisfarne in northern England—home of an abbey, the beautifully illustrated Lindisfarne Gospels, and a castle. It's on an island (referred to as the "Holy Island") and is still an isolated place cut off by the tides. We had a whirlwind tour of the abbey and managed to get some pictures before we were chased away by the impending tide.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2-yI3SNI/AAAAAAAABos/dK4qKgW7QH8/s1600-h/LindesfarneEngland2008+-+44a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2-yI3SNI/AAAAAAAABos/dK4qKgW7QH8/s400/LindesfarneEngland2008+-+44a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203617977944459474" /></a><br /><br />Driving across the causeway should be a hint that you'll get cut off by the tide—the road is even sandy.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2_SI3SOI/AAAAAAAABo0/e61QTAyEJK0/s1600-h/LindesfarneEngland2008+-+47a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2_SI3SOI/AAAAAAAABo0/e61QTAyEJK0/s400/LindesfarneEngland2008+-+47a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203617986534394082" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2_iI3SPI/AAAAAAAABo8/Tgzm0e7kX1k/s1600-h/LindesfarneEngland2008+-+20a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDb2_iI3SPI/AAAAAAAABo8/Tgzm0e7kX1k/s400/LindesfarneEngland2008+-+20a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203617990829361394" /></a><br /><br />I can safely say that at the end of all this, we were very happy to be home.jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-10830643597897639192008-05-19T10:08:00.000+01:002008-05-19T22:28:00.747+01:00KnaresboroughKnaresborough is a small village-like town just outside Harrogate. I saw it as I passed by on the train. They have the most perfect idyllic train station—exactly what you would imagine. After you pass through that, you go across a very high bridge over a river gorge. The town is nestled on the slopes and has a castle ruin at the top. Once I saw it, I had to come back with Pat the next weekend.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDHwFy6XJaI/AAAAAAAABj0/YYf_2PVKKBE/s1600-h/IMG_1876a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDHwFy6XJaI/AAAAAAAABj0/YYf_2PVKKBE/s400/IMG_1876a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202203026946205090" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDHwGS6XJbI/AAAAAAAABj8/DESe9M-K0NA/s1600-h/IMG_2120a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDHwGS6XJbI/AAAAAAAABj8/DESe9M-K0NA/s400/IMG_2120a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202203035536139698" /></a><br /><br />Besides the idyllic atmosphere, I think the best part of Knaresborough is the traditional tourist past time—taking a row boat out on the River Nidd. Pat was kind enough to row us around and I controlled the rudder. Pat was in charge of speed and I was in charge of navigation. For those who know us, this could be a recipe for disaster on a crowded river, but we were only hit once and it wasn't our fault. It was a beautiful day (we wore shorts) and being out on a peaceful river was a great way to spend it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDHwGi6XJcI/AAAAAAAABkE/XoYIVL8-tVA/s1600-h/IMG_2155a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDHwGi6XJcI/AAAAAAAABkE/XoYIVL8-tVA/s400/IMG_2155a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202203039831107010" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDHwGy6XJdI/AAAAAAAABkM/PP8v0D2XYHU/s1600-h/IMG_2206a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SDHwGy6XJdI/AAAAAAAABkM/PP8v0D2XYHU/s400/IMG_2206a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202203044126074322" /></a><br /><br />Knaresborough is also home to Mother Shipton's Cave, the oldest English tourist attraction dating to 1630. We deemed it overpriced and couldn't see how it could beat Mammoth Cave or the caves we saw in Mexico. Mother Shipton's Cave is a geological phenomenon for the area and is suppose to be the legendary birthplace of Mother Shipton, the most famous prophetess in England circa 1500. I guess that was before witch burning...jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-24864069378655716282008-05-15T11:08:00.000+01:002008-05-15T11:08:00.700+01:00HarrogateWe almost lived in Harrogate. Harrogate was historically a "spa" town and a resort because of its natural sulphur spring first discovered in 1571. There's still a Victorian Turkish bath if you need special treatment. <br /><br />I think Harrogate has the air of Mariemont perfection, a perception of Indian Hills wealth, and the suburban location of West Chester. It's beautiful, but comes off a little snobby and uncomfortable too me, so I'm very happy we ended up in York.<br /><br />Since we had some very nice weather, I took the train from York and spent a day wandering through the shops and gardens.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCtQZC6XJVI/AAAAAAAABjM/Xt4u10-ncQs/s1600-h/IMG_1885a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCtQZC6XJVI/AAAAAAAABjM/Xt4u10-ncQs/s400/IMG_1885a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200338585937978706" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCtQaS6XJWI/AAAAAAAABjU/4blT40s0Nu8/s1600-h/IMG_1984a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCtQaS6XJWI/AAAAAAAABjU/4blT40s0Nu8/s400/IMG_1984a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200338607412815202" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http:/http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.photo.gif/bp0.blogger.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCtQbC6XJXI/AAAAAAAABjc/C1PcFplUVpw/s1600-h/IMG_1917a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCtQbC6XJXI/AAAAAAAABjc/C1PcFplUVpw/s400/IMG_1917a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200338620297717106" /></a><br />The Royal Pump Room Museum.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCtQby6XJYI/AAAAAAAABjk/QNlDIioSdFc/s1600-h/IMG_1927a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCtQby6XJYI/AAAAAAAABjk/QNlDIioSdFc/s400/IMG_1927a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200338633182619010" /></a><br />The Valley Gardens. They're very proud of this and should be—it's huge and beautiful, encompassing all sorts of plants and activities (tennis, golf putting greens, putput, playgrounds, a wading pool, model boat lakes, etc.).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCtQcS6XJZI/AAAAAAAABjs/55Esa9rW-Kw/s1600-h/IMG_1960a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCtQcS6XJZI/AAAAAAAABjs/55Esa9rW-Kw/s400/IMG_1960a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200338641772553618" /></a><br />Some really strange prehistoric-looking fern-like plants in the Valley Gardens. Notice the gigantic tubers—they're at least 12" in diameter.jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-55857299486640785442008-05-11T10:27:00.000+01:002008-05-11T10:27:00.562+01:00Happy Mother's Day!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCNi0coI1WI/AAAAAAAABis/7PIjzsNGXRg/s1600-h/IMG_1861a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCNi0coI1WI/AAAAAAAABis/7PIjzsNGXRg/s400/IMG_1861a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198107048092947810" /></a><br /><br />A very happy Mother's Day to our moms and my Grandmas!! We hope that you are all having the wonderfully relaxing day you deserve... Too bad we aren't around to rub your feet :)<br /><br />Have a great day!jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-74161690326438565382008-05-10T22:05:00.001+01:002008-05-10T22:15:50.262+01:00rub a dub dub, laundry in the tub!You know how I mentioned all of those hours of spinning needed to clean a load of laundry? Well, our washer/dryer (at the tender age of 1 year) is all spun out. (Click on this link for the <a href="http://swindontravels.blogspot.com/2007/08/laundry-theory.html">archived post</a>)<br /><br />Something snapped or became dislodged. First it made a horrible, loud grinding noise through various parts of the cycles, but it worked fine. It almost got to the point where I was considering wearing noise-canceling headphones to see if they would take the edge off. Then it made horrible grinding noises AND didn't get the soap suds, or most of the water for that matter, out. So I quit using it before it decided to go up in a puff of smoke.<br /><br />Our landlord is ordering us a new one, but it has been two weeks (because that's how long things take here) and I was only able to accomplish two loads after we got back from Paris so we're really backed up. That means we're starting to have to wear the second-stringer underwear. You know the kind... they're uncomfortable, they creep when they shouldn't, or maybe they're those old hi-cuts that don't work with new low-cut pants. Either way, they always seem to be at the bottom of the drawer and you're not really sure why you just haven't thrown them out, but now you're glad you haven't. And since Pat's underwear drawer isn't as deep as mine, today he had to wear bike shorts.<br /><br />That all being said, we do have a nice big tub. And because I'm too lazy to find a laundromat and then sit there for god knows how long as my laundry spins, I've resorted to using it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCYPtm2S8LI/AAAAAAAABjE/tPiPIM_3Urw/s1600-h/IMG_2106a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCYPtm2S8LI/AAAAAAAABjE/tPiPIM_3Urw/s400/IMG_2106a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198860096042627250" /></a>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-11983897361420258962008-05-09T09:20:00.016+01:002008-05-09T09:20:00.553+01:00Hadrian's WallWe finally made it to Hadrian's Wall. It's something we've wanted to do since day one, but it's a 2-2 1/2 hour drive to get to the best parts so it got put off in favor of closer places. We've also been waiting for that elusive "good weather." Now we're just running out of time. So on Monday (which was a holiday here), the recent rain cleared out and the temperature looked good so we headed out. It turned out to be a very nice day—warm with hazy sunshine.<br /><br />Hadrian's Wall is a 73 mile long Roman wall stretching coast to coast across one of the narrowest parts of Britain. Hadrian came to power at the height of the Roman empire and, challenged with maintaining the boundaries, had the wall built "to separate Romans from Barbarians." Some feel that the wall acted more as tax, raid, and immigration control vs. a base for attacking north and gaining more ground.<br /><br />The wall varied in its construction and height depending on which legion was building it and what natural resources were available. It consisted of either stone or turf and was between 11 and 20 feet high at different sections. It's thought that this project acted as a kind of Depression-era work project that utilized the non-fighting skills of the legionnaires stationed far from home and, most importantly, kept them busy in a lonely, middle-of-nowhere outpost. <br /><br />The defenses consisted not only of the wall itself, which would have been an intimidating statement of authority and organization to the "barbarians," but also a series of ditches, mounds, and a flattened area for a parallel "Military Road" accessed only by causeways. In essence, the Romans created a controlled militarized zone both north and south of the wall. Before we knew about the ditches on the south side, we suspected them. They are still visible as you drive on the current road that runs roughly parallel to the wall and they carve dramatic lines through the earth.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCLSncoI1VI/AAAAAAAABik/uky9oyVqROY/s1600-h/wallelev.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCLSncoI1VI/AAAAAAAABik/uky9oyVqROY/s400/wallelev.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197948495080248658" /></a><br /><br />The Romans also built 14-17 forts connected to the wall, housing between 500 and 1,000 auxiliary troops each. Between the forts, they had up to 80 gated smaller milecastles (one each Roman mile) holding a couple of dozen troops each. Between the milecastles, they had another 2 small towers for signaling. In the beginning, the wall was probably manned by more than 10,000 soldiers. We visited two of the bigger Roman forts along the wall—Chesters and Housesteads.<br /><br />Chesters was built to house 500 calvary and protect the bridge over the River North Tyne. It was occupied for nearly 300 years. In this view of the model (looking west) you can see that Chesters straddled the wall. At the bottom of the picture, you can see where the wall/bridge crossed the river and to the left of it was the army bathhouse.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK5Y8oI1FI/AAAAAAAABgk/unUu-Rb0AuM/s1600-h/IMG_1710a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK5Y8oI1FI/AAAAAAAABgk/unUu-Rb0AuM/s400/IMG_1710a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197920758181450834" /></a><br /><br />Many parts of the bathhouse are well preserved and give a good idea of hygiene in the forts. It seems they had many of the amenities they would have had even in Rome. These cubbies in the changing room, with the remains of a partially buried bench below, look very similar to a bathhouse we saw in Pompeii. Some think that the niches acted as modern-day lockers and others think that they held statuary. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK5ZMoI1GI/AAAAAAAABgs/KRsPW3U0GsE/s1600-h/IMG_1670a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK5ZMoI1GI/AAAAAAAABgs/KRsPW3U0GsE/s400/IMG_1670a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197920762476418146" /></a><br /><br />What always impresses me about Roman remains is the water management. We've all heard about the aqueducts, but their ingenuity essentially amounts to indoor plumbing. Here you're looking at a room for cold water baths. The channel brought water in to a "douching" basin and there's a "tub" integrated into the wall in the upper right for cold water plunges. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK5ZMoI1HI/AAAAAAAABg0/_Qw0uXBSnQU/s1600-h/IMG_1677a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK5ZMoI1HI/AAAAAAAABg0/_Qw0uXBSnQU/s400/IMG_1677a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197920762476418162" /></a><br /><br />It was common for Romans to also have sauna-like bath treatments. Here at Chesters they had both wet and dry heat rooms. The rooms had raised floors and coals were stuck underneath inside "stoking holes" (shown in the bottom right of this picture). The air was heated and circulated underneath the floor, heating the room. They even went so far as to create a hollow roof system, and circulated hot air inside of that too, for additional warmth. Evidence of that construction can also be found at Chesters.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK5ZcoI1II/AAAAAAAABg8/AjaTiNQNEdk/s1600-h/IMG_1667a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK5ZcoI1II/AAAAAAAABg8/AjaTiNQNEdk/s400/IMG_1667a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197920766771385474" /></a><br /><br />Underfloor heating was usually reserved for bathhouses. What I think is funny, and telling, is that the Commandant's house at Chesters has more of it than I remember ever seeing in a residence, most of it added in later phases of construction. I think the longer they lived here, the more they realized how miserable the weather is and decided to do something about it. I'm sure most of the "Romans" here had never been to Rome, but still came from much warmer climates. For example, the men stationed here were from Northern Spain.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK5ZcoI1JI/AAAAAAAABhE/0LLUD6qyOCA/s1600-h/IMG_1706a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK5ZcoI1JI/AAAAAAAABhE/0LLUD6qyOCA/s400/IMG_1706a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197920766771385490" /></a><br /><br />Chesters also has a small museum housing artifacts found at the site. The similarities and consistency between Roman sites stretching from Turkey to Italy to France to England is so striking. You could believe that when you stepped out of the door, you'd be in Rome.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK5mcoI1KI/AAAAAAAABhM/KAnsyO2IT68/s1600-h/IMG_1712a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK5mcoI1KI/AAAAAAAABhM/KAnsyO2IT68/s400/IMG_1712a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197920990109684898" /></a><br /><br />Housesteads was named Vercovicium by the Romans ("the place of effective fighters" or "hilly place") and is built at the midpoint of Hadrian's Wall. Housesteads is said to be the most complete fort still visible. Larger than Chesters, Housesteads held a cohort of around 800 infantry. The model below shows what the fort once looked like with the wall running along the top, or north, side.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK568oI1LI/AAAAAAAABhU/vYaukjQxNcY/s1600-h/IMG_1714a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK568oI1LI/AAAAAAAABhU/vYaukjQxNcY/s400/IMG_1714a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197921342297003186" /></a><br /><br />Like the Roman name implies, Housesteads is situated on the top of a natural ridge and has great views in every direction.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK568oI1MI/AAAAAAAABhc/FivZtbvmJYE/s1600-h/IMG_1717a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK568oI1MI/AAAAAAAABhc/FivZtbvmJYE/s400/IMG_1717a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197921342297003202" /></a><br /><br />The south double portal entrance gate<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK57MoI1NI/AAAAAAAABhk/SHmrKHVXQvY/s1600-h/IMG_1715a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK57MoI1NI/AAAAAAAABhk/SHmrKHVXQvY/s400/IMG_1715a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197921346591970514" /></a><br /><br />Reminiscent of Pompeii, you can see what looks like wheel ruts in the stone.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK57MoI1OI/AAAAAAAABhs/9-a4Aw6jLv8/s1600-h/Hadrian%27sWallEngland2008+-+055a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK57MoI1OI/AAAAAAAABhs/9-a4Aw6jLv8/s400/Hadrian%27sWallEngland2008+-+055a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197921346591970530" /></a><br /><br />The main attraction at Housesteads is the latrines because they are so well preserved. In the picture below you can see a stone platform surrounded by a trench. It's thought that there would have been a wood bench covering the trench (with the appropriate holes of course). The stone platform has two basins which would have held sponges on a stick (aka Roman toilet paper). The small trough running between the basins and bench would have had water running through it for washing the sponges. It looks very similar to a public toilet we saw in the Roman civilian settlement of Ephesus in Turkey, except that the Turkish version had marble seats.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK57coI1PI/AAAAAAAABh0/z0_1izrIUC8/s1600-h/IMG_1730a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK57coI1PI/AAAAAAAABh0/z0_1izrIUC8/s400/IMG_1730a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197921350886937842" /></a><br /><br />The great thing about Housesteads is that it's still linked to visible parts of Hadrian's Wall. We walked to the west along the wall, which had some dramatic views of the wall snaking over the hills and ridges. Today there are farmers' walls butting up to Hadrian's, but you can always find Hadrian's because of its dramatic width and the turf on top.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK6MMoI1QI/AAAAAAAABh8/zAYV5DH2fCo/s1600-h/IMG_1724a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK6MMoI1QI/AAAAAAAABh8/zAYV5DH2fCo/s400/IMG_1724a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197921638649746690" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCLQWsoI1UI/AAAAAAAABic/NuqYdbH86YA/s1600-h/Hadrian%27sWallEngland2008+-+080a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCLQWsoI1UI/AAAAAAAABic/NuqYdbH86YA/s400/Hadrian%27sWallEngland2008+-+080a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197946008294184258" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK6McoI1SI/AAAAAAAABiM/hzvrPuURZr0/s1600-h/IMG_1757a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCK6McoI1SI/AAAAAAAABiM/hzvrPuURZr0/s400/IMG_1757a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197921642944714018" /></a>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-3746642787647226542008-05-07T11:50:00.001+01:002008-05-09T12:55:10.386+01:00funny signs, part 6Today's topic is poultry... I hope :) It seems the British are fascinated by cocks.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_3xyldK4yI/AAAAAAAABLs/wyE6W5pLeqE/s1600-h/DSCN4988a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_3xyldK4yI/AAAAAAAABLs/wyE6W5pLeqE/s400/DSCN4988a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187568197150892834" /></a><br />Makes sense as a pub name...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_3x8FdK4zI/AAAAAAAABL0/OekBRalIdGk/s1600-h/DSCN4989a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_3x8FdK4zI/AAAAAAAABL0/OekBRalIdGk/s400/DSCN4989a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187568360359650098" /></a><br />...but gets a little weird when used in text.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCQ6kW2S8KI/AAAAAAAABi8/e1SORJ76TH8/s1600-h/100_3293a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SCQ6kW2S8KI/AAAAAAAABi8/e1SORJ76TH8/s400/100_3293a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198344266175410338" /></a><br />Then there's the city names. Cockfosters happens to be at the end of a London tube line so the trains are labeled that way. The first time Pat heard "Cockfosters" it was said quickly over a loudspeaker in a British accent which sounded, well... he busted out laughing. Thanks to Lauren and Jeff for supplying the photo!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_3yEldK40I/AAAAAAAABL8/eSILasHjbh0/s1600-h/DSCN5185a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_3yEldK40I/AAAAAAAABL8/eSILasHjbh0/s400/DSCN5185a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187568506388538178" /></a><br />Having to say "I live on Cockburn" would take some getting used to.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_3yLVdK41I/AAAAAAAABME/1wsvEOBULZ0/s1600-h/DSCN4020a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_3yLVdK41I/AAAAAAAABME/1wsvEOBULZ0/s400/DSCN4020a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187568622352655186" /></a><br />Having to say "I live in Cockermouth" would be worse.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBoC26YxxKI/AAAAAAAABdU/setEQa5sZrQ/s1600-h/cockfield.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBoC26YxxKI/AAAAAAAABdU/setEQa5sZrQ/s400/cockfield.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195468262534661282" /></a><br />Having to say "Go to Cockfield, just outside of Wackerfield" is messed up.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_3yR1dK42I/AAAAAAAABMM/JS_oFPa8SVI/s1600-h/DSCN9111a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/R_3yR1dK42I/AAAAAAAABMM/JS_oFPa8SVI/s400/DSCN9111a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187568734021804898" /></a><br />Tamer, but just silly.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBoENaYxxMI/AAAAAAAABdk/LHeAe2RM4q4/s1600-h/IMG_1295a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBoENaYxxMI/AAAAAAAABdk/LHeAe2RM4q4/s400/IMG_1295a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195469748593345730" /></a><br />This just proves Pat's point... putting "le" in front of anything makes it French.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SB9keqYxxeI/AAAAAAAABf0/XYX_hGEOUx4/s1600-h/IMG_1655a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SB9keqYxxeI/AAAAAAAABf0/XYX_hGEOUx4/s400/IMG_1655a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196982972945909218" /></a><br />After establishing a successful Wimpy Burger business, they decided to expand into Wimpy Chicken. Why not just call it Wimpy Cock and be done with it? I'm sure people would come streaming in.jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-44917798174682448132008-05-05T16:03:00.002+01:002008-05-06T16:34:08.939+01:00Europeans like to trim hedgesEven though the British don't consider themselves Europeans, their hedge-trimming obsession has spread to the Continent (or vice versa) so you'll have to forgive me for grouping them for the sake of simplicity.<br /><br />While Pat and I disagree on WHY the hedges are so manicured—I say it's an aesthetic obsession, Pat says it's because they can't give up any square footage in their already small plots by having bushy plants. It's true that people live on top of each other here and a leafy hedge is a good way to gain privacy—it's also prettier than a fence. It's true that there are many places where people MUST keep up with the hedge trimming to prevent them from overtaking narrow sidewalks or scratching your car as you drive by (yes, they're that close to the road). Regardless, you can't deny that there are many more applications that defy explanation.<br /><br />An English Hedge Trimmer and Tree Surgeon (aka arborist) website sheds a little light on the history and benefits of a proper hedge and the danger of one that's out of control...<br /><blockquote>Hedges around a property create a beautiful, interesting and environmentally sound boundary... Hedgerows are an important and well-loved feature of the British countryside, as well as being a valuable wildlife habitat... Hedgelaying is an ancient countryside craft, creating a dense hedge that primarily was intended to form a barrier to prevent livestock escaping. This involves allowing a hedge to grown to a reasonable height, then pleaching, laying and weaving the hedge to create a neat, thick and impenetrable living barrier. If hedges are not laid, the end result will be a line of trees with gaps in between... Nowadays, a hedgerow created from native British hedging plants, such as Hawthorne and Blackthorn and other thorny species, create a barrier against intruders as well as food and shelter for wildlife... Recent changes to the law mean that ASBOs can be issued for nuisance hedges so neighbours can force the removal of such hedges.</blockquote><br /><br />An "ASBO" is a violation of Parliament's 2003 Anti-social Behaviour Act. It has categories including drugs, housing, parental responsibility, dispersal of groups, firearms, environment, public order/trespass, and last, but not least, "high hedges." The act defines "high hedges" as:<br /><blockquote>(1) In this Part “high hedge” means so much of a barrier to light or access as—<br />(a) is formed wholly or predominantly by a line of two or more evergreens; and<br />(b) rises to a height of more than two metres above ground level.<br />(2) For the purposes of subsection (1) a line of evergreens is not to be regarded as forming a barrier to light or access if the existence of gaps significantly affects its overall effect as such a barrier at heights of more than two metres above ground level.<br />(3) In this section “evergreen” means an evergreen tree or shrub or a semi-evergreen tree or shrub. </blockquote><br /><br />According to the Royal Horticultural Society, you can also get in trouble with the law if you have birds nesting in your hedges.<br /><blockquote>When undertaking work on garden hedges check that there are no birds nesting as it is an offence under the Wildlife & Countryside Act 1981 to damage or destroy the nest of any wild bird while it is in use or being built.</blockquote><br />Tricky business this hedge trimming. These explanations for hedge trimming might not extend to the continent, but I'm sure they have their reasons too. Enough of the legal jargon, here are some pictures...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SB9n5KYxxfI/AAAAAAAABf8/cPMLNAeCbbk/s1600-h/Masham+England+2008+-+51a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SB9n5KYxxfI/AAAAAAAABf8/cPMLNAeCbbk/s400/Masham+England+2008+-+51a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196986726747325938" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SB9oDKYxxgI/AAAAAAAABgE/SLvqD6BZn_M/s1600-h/IMG_1653a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SB9oDKYxxgI/AAAAAAAABgE/SLvqD6BZn_M/s400/IMG_1653a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196986898546017794" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SB9kJKYxxdI/AAAAAAAABfs/8Eog2ZC55NY/s1600-h/IMG_1643a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SB9kJKYxxdI/AAAAAAAABfs/8Eog2ZC55NY/s400/IMG_1643a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196982603578721746" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxJAKYxxTI/AAAAAAAABec/EPoIf05SepY/s1600-h/DSCN6477a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxJAKYxxTI/AAAAAAAABec/EPoIf05SepY/s400/DSCN6477a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196108337215817010" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxIkaYxxQI/AAAAAAAABeE/qHZoTdBuBZE/s1600-h/DSCN6189a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxIkaYxxQI/AAAAAAAABeE/qHZoTdBuBZE/s400/DSCN6189a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196107860474447106" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxIkqYxxRI/AAAAAAAABeM/IeJDzjci85Q/s1600-h/DSCN6239a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxIkqYxxRI/AAAAAAAABeM/IeJDzjci85Q/s400/DSCN6239a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196107864769414418" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SB9jpKYxxcI/AAAAAAAABfk/gSRNbxu3bIs/s1600-h/IMG_1645a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SB9jpKYxxcI/AAAAAAAABfk/gSRNbxu3bIs/s400/IMG_1645a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196982053822907842" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxJAqYxxWI/AAAAAAAABe0/innu4W2HtKM/s1600-h/DSCN6283a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxJAqYxxWI/AAAAAAAABe0/innu4W2HtKM/s400/DSCN6283a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196108345805751650" /></a><br />Geneva, Switzerland<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxJAaYxxVI/AAAAAAAABes/ngin_HGwjVw/s1600-h/DSCN6236a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxJAaYxxVI/AAAAAAAABes/ngin_HGwjVw/s400/DSCN6236a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196108341510784338" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxJAaYxxUI/AAAAAAAABek/LB0Di74xm1w/s1600-h/DSCN6233a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxJAaYxxUI/AAAAAAAABek/LB0Di74xm1w/s400/DSCN6233a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196108341510784322" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxJAqYxxXI/AAAAAAAABe8/nppt_j06df8/s1600-h/IMG_1612a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxJAqYxxXI/AAAAAAAABe8/nppt_j06df8/s400/IMG_1612a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196108345805751666" /></a><br />Rennes, France<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxMx6YxxaI/AAAAAAAABfU/UrGwLyk8wRI/s1600-h/IMG_0879a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxMx6YxxaI/AAAAAAAABfU/UrGwLyk8wRI/s400/IMG_0879a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196112490449192354" /></a><br />Versailles, France<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxIkKYxxOI/AAAAAAAABd0/vgGYtURrep0/s1600-h/DSCN4228a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxIkKYxxOI/AAAAAAAABd0/vgGYtURrep0/s400/DSCN4228a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196107856179479778" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxIkaYxxPI/AAAAAAAABd8/-Pcc5hYS0XU/s1600-h/IMG_0356a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBxIkaYxxPI/AAAAAAAABd8/-Pcc5hYS0XU/s400/IMG_0356a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196107860474447090" /></a>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-44792245547847343102008-05-02T09:44:00.001+01:002008-05-02T10:00:34.600+01:00Mont Saint MichelOur last stop on our trip to France was Mt. St. Michel, a small island of rock just off the shore of Normandy and Brittany. Although it used to be cut off from shore by the tides, it's technically no longer an island as is linked permanently to the shore with a causeway. <br /><br />Mt. St. Michel has been a monastery and pilgrimage site since about the 10th century. It started out as a simple, single building on a rocky outcrop and is now a towering piece of architecture with smaller buildings tumbling down the sides of the rock. They say that the current abbey structure at the top doubles the height of the original rock. It was this romantic setting and dramatic architecture that inspired us to make our own pilgrimage.<br /><br />To do this, we traveled 2 hours by train from Paris to Rennes, a city we had never heard anything about. We used that as our base and had a half day to explore Rennes before we ventured out to Mt. St. Michel. Rennes turned out to be a really nice medium size city with a large historic area and a really nice park. They have retained a lot of really interesting medieval-looking timber and plaster architecture. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBndRKYxw2I/AAAAAAAABa0/YHyM3lTvnjQ/s1600-h/IMG_1318a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBndRKYxw2I/AAAAAAAABa0/YHyM3lTvnjQ/s400/IMG_1318a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195426932064371554" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBndRaYxw3I/AAAAAAAABa8/V3nGWQi4WME/s1600-h/IMG_1313a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBndRaYxw3I/AAAAAAAABa8/V3nGWQi4WME/s400/IMG_1313a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195426936359338866" /></a><br /><br />Different than similar applications we've seen in the UK, the timber patterns are more complex and the buildings are more colorful. I wouldn't be surprised if the color isn't original, but it really adds something to the buildings. Some of the buildings are also exceptionally tall and look like they'd be the medieval equivalent of skyscrapers.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBndRqYxw4I/AAAAAAAABbE/bwoqkQ2Vow0/s1600-h/IMG_1327a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBndRqYxw4I/AAAAAAAABbE/bwoqkQ2Vow0/s400/IMG_1327a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195426940654306178" /></a><br /><br />The next day we boarded a bus for a 1 1/2 hour ride out to Mt. St. Michel. A unique shape and a medieval engineering triumph, the abbey building has adapted to the site and is wound around the top of the granite outcrop. The 13th century builders managed to stack a 3 story building on a steep rock face using powerful buttresses. Occasional collapses over the years lead to even more massive supporting columns in the crypts at the base of the building. The inhabitants used the three levels of the building to create a monastic hierarchy with the monks living in isolation at the top, the abbot and noble guests in the middle, and soldiers and pilgrims at the bottom.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnd5KYxw5I/AAAAAAAABbM/LD6KcZCc_aw/s1600-h/IMG_1545a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnd5KYxw5I/AAAAAAAABbM/LD6KcZCc_aw/s400/IMG_1545a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195427619259138962" /></a><br /><br />There is only one street winding up to the abbey and it is packed with tourists, souvenir shops, restaurants, and hotels. It's almost repulsive tourism. Even as you get close to Mt. St. Michel, you can feel the tourism creeping up on you and almost feel like you're back in the states again—they even have "Alligator Bay" which pushes it over the top. Doesn't sound very French and made me feel like I was in Florida. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBneYaYxw6I/AAAAAAAABbU/632MCukpnB0/s1600-h/IMG_1527a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBneYaYxw6I/AAAAAAAABbU/632MCukpnB0/s400/IMG_1527a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195428156130050978" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBneYqYxw7I/AAAAAAAABbc/QPNf17RrzCM/s1600-h/IMG_1606a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBneYqYxw7I/AAAAAAAABbc/QPNf17RrzCM/s400/IMG_1606a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195428160425018290" /></a><br /><br />Luckily, we found some small side paths that bypassed the chaos on the way to the top. This was the first time we have actually seen an abbey intact. Because of its soaring walls, twisting uphill approach, and incredible views, it's also the most dramatic.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnfGaYxw8I/AAAAAAAABbk/yFJHdcLWJtc/s1600-h/IMG_1392a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnfGaYxw8I/AAAAAAAABbk/yFJHdcLWJtc/s400/IMG_1392a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195428946404033474" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnfHaYxw-I/AAAAAAAABb0/9vOoUUuzCN8/s1600-h/IMG_1513a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnfHaYxw-I/AAAAAAAABb0/9vOoUUuzCN8/s400/IMG_1513a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195428963583902690" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnfG6Yxw9I/AAAAAAAABbs/9Mys2zWgnno/s1600-h/IMG_1404a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnfG6Yxw9I/AAAAAAAABbs/9Mys2zWgnno/s400/IMG_1404a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195428954993968082" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnfjKYxw_I/AAAAAAAABb8/ma3XpWQS2Zg/s1600-h/IMG_1423a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnfjKYxw_I/AAAAAAAABb8/ma3XpWQS2Zg/s400/IMG_1423a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195429440325272562" /></a><br />The Romanesque nave.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnfjaYxxAI/AAAAAAAABcE/OGDtlmcktp0/s1600-h/IMG_1441a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnfjaYxxAI/AAAAAAAABcE/OGDtlmcktp0/s400/IMG_1441a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195429444620239874" /></a><br />The enclosed 13th century Anglo-Norman cloisters.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnfjaYxxBI/AAAAAAAABcM/LkIdsbwQm_s/s1600-h/IMG_1473a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnfjaYxxBI/AAAAAAAABcM/LkIdsbwQm_s/s400/IMG_1473a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195429444620239890" /></a><br />Known as the Knights' Hall, this was the monks' work and study room. (Check out Pat standing inside one of the two huge fireplaces).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnlCaYxxGI/AAAAAAAABc0/FowCokoX080/s1600-h/IMG_1554a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnlCaYxxGI/AAAAAAAABc0/FowCokoX080/s400/IMG_1554a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195435474754323554" /></a><br />A small, isolated chapel on the back of the island. The only access looks like it would be cut off by the tide.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnlDaYxxHI/AAAAAAAABc8/dMfinH9bieM/s1600-h/IMG_1481a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnlDaYxxHI/AAAAAAAABc8/dMfinH9bieM/s400/IMG_1481a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195435491934192754" /></a><br />The mudflats around Mt. St. Michel at low tide.<br /><br />After the French Revolution, this became a prison to 300 priests who were put to work in various ways, including this hamster wheel. Two men would run in the wheel (a medieval technology) to wind a rope that would pull wood sledges loaded with building supplies up a steep stone ramp that looks almost like another buttress from the outside.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnhTqYxxCI/AAAAAAAABcU/Udi0SB_4zM8/s1600-h/IMG_1465a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnhTqYxxCI/AAAAAAAABcU/Udi0SB_4zM8/s400/IMG_1465a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195431373060555810" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnhT6YxxDI/AAAAAAAABcc/z49j3ocafiY/s1600-h/IMG_1460a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnhT6YxxDI/AAAAAAAABcc/z49j3ocafiY/s400/IMG_1460a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195431377355523122" /></a><br /><br />In the 15th century, the French surrounded the island with massive fortifications to resist English cannons during the Hundred Years' War. Although the English conquered much of the surrounding land, they never took this island and it became a symbol of national identity in France.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnh0KYxxEI/AAAAAAAABck/YMnxK2SosCs/s1600-h/IMG_1583a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnh0KYxxEI/AAAAAAAABck/YMnxK2SosCs/s400/IMG_1583a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195431931406304322" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnh0KYxxFI/AAAAAAAABcs/W1MRywsUQEA/s1600-h/IMG_1552a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBnh0KYxxFI/AAAAAAAABcs/W1MRywsUQEA/s400/IMG_1552a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195431931406304338" /></a><br /><br />And of course the best part of our trip to Mt. St. Michel was the weather. It couldn't have been a more beautiful, sunny day. We basked in the sun, were comfortable in t-shirts for most of the day, and even left a little pink. It was almost like a summer day in England :)jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-21778237164005839242008-05-01T09:30:00.000+01:002008-05-01T09:30:46.450+01:00Happy Birthday MOM!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBibsaYxwzI/AAAAAAAABac/vgGDn2E6Q3I/s1600-h/IMG_0977.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBibsaYxwzI/AAAAAAAABac/vgGDn2E6Q3I/s400/IMG_0977.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195073357471662898" /></a><br /><br />Happy Birthday from Versailles!<br /><br />It was a great day; I'm just thankful I don't have to do the yard work around here, it goes on and on and on and... you get the idea. Not sure if you and Dad ever made it out here when you lived in Germany, but it is quite impressive and not to be missed if you 2 decide to take a trip to Paris.<br /><br />Have a wonderful day!jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-61179386978142853332008-04-30T17:42:00.002+01:002008-05-01T09:29:24.838+01:00VersaillesWhile we were in Paris, we decided to take a day trip to Versailles since it's an easy 1/2 hour train ride away. On the train we were treated to an accordion song. Unlike the little gypsy boy on the Circumvesuviana train in Italy, who played badly, stared you down for money, and then individually cursed each person who didn't hand it over in Italian, this guy was actually good. He also seemed very enthusiastic about his music, tapping to the beat, so this time we donated to the cause.<br /><br />We never intended to go inside Versailles as neither of us were interested in the gilded, baroque interiors or the mob scene to actually buy tickets and take the tour. We came for the gardens. I know, we're not really "garden" people either, but wanted to see the scale of this manicured paradise we'd heard so much about.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh7GqYxwdI/AAAAAAAABXs/ntQaUW7undM/s1600-h/IMG_1017a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh7GqYxwdI/AAAAAAAABXs/ntQaUW7undM/s400/IMG_1017a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195037524559512018" /></a><br /><br />Again, not knowing much about the history of Versailles except that a lot of guys named Louis lived there, here are our top 10 weird & wonderful things about Versailles.<br /><br />10. Rows of sculpted trees. The avenues are so long your eyes can't decipher it—the trees just about disappear into infinity. This seems to be the foundation of the garden with endless avenues and types of trees sculpted into perfection. It also showed man's (or the King's) dominance over nature.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh_wqYxwsI/AAAAAAAABZk/B-esH7lly7M/s1600-h/IMG_0907a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh_wqYxwsI/AAAAAAAABZk/B-esH7lly7M/s400/IMG_0907a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195042644160529090" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh_w6YxwtI/AAAAAAAABZs/N4AHQnQpph8/s1600-h/IMG_0956a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh_w6YxwtI/AAAAAAAABZs/N4AHQnQpph8/s400/IMG_0956a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195042648455496402" /></a><br /><br />9. Mowing. Even the guys at Versailles mow steep slopes by lowering a lawn mower down with a rope, just like our neighbor on Halpin. If they don't have a better way of doing it here, I guess there isn't one.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBiAq6YxwuI/AAAAAAAABZ0/z5tPCKRI1rw/s1600-h/IMG_1054.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBiAq6YxwuI/AAAAAAAABZ0/z5tPCKRI1rw/s400/IMG_1054.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195043644887909090" /></a><br /><br />And I thought we had a lot of mowing obstacles in our yard...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh8QqYxwjI/AAAAAAAABYc/hmtnILGI3qA/s1600-h/IMG_0886a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh8QqYxwjI/AAAAAAAABYc/hmtnILGI3qA/s400/IMG_0886a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195038795869831730" /></a><br /><br />8. Madame de Maintenon. Morganatic wife of King Louis XIV, she was the only member of royalty ever credited with saying "Hey, shouldn't we stop sinking money into this place and FEED our people?" I thought she deserved a mention for her opposition. Who knows, if the king had actually listened to his wife, the Revolution may have been averted. I think that's a lesson for us all...<br /><br />7. Topiaries. These aren't fake, but are very dense, carefully manicured sculptures that show up everywhere throughout the gardens. Not a hair, or leaf in this case, out of place. Pat's favorites are the ones with "satellites."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh8u6YxwkI/AAAAAAAABYk/b3PJ4iJjFGI/s1600-h/IMG_0900a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh8u6YxwkI/AAAAAAAABYk/b3PJ4iJjFGI/s400/IMG_0900a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195039315560874562" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh8vKYxwlI/AAAAAAAABYs/sRoHyQevw-o/s1600-h/IMG_0960a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh8vKYxwlI/AAAAAAAABYs/sRoHyQevw-o/s400/IMG_0960a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195039319855841874" /></a><br /><br />6. The grand scale of it all. The gardens span about 3 miles from the the Chateau to the back of the Grand Canal and also about 1 1/2 miles on each side of it. At one time the Grand Canal had 9 ships, including a 32-cannon warship, in addition to Venetian gondolas for royal transportation over the waterway. It's huge. It's grand. You couldn't even really see front to back because there was a little haze in the air.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBimqqYxw0I/AAAAAAAABak/AHwqC7HEaB8/s1600-h/IMG_0966a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBimqqYxw0I/AAAAAAAABak/AHwqC7HEaB8/s400/IMG_0966a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195085422034797378" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBimrKYxw1I/AAAAAAAABas/brMEdEQfDUQ/s1600-h/IMG_0892a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBimrKYxw1I/AAAAAAAABas/brMEdEQfDUQ/s400/IMG_0892a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195085430624731986" /></a> <br /><br />5. Garden transportation. Because of the grand scale, there are many modes of transportation rented to tourists to fully experience the gardens. These range from a tram, golf carts, bikes and Segways to row boats. We decided to stick with our feet (if we had known about Segway rental at the beginning that probably would have changed) and came to regret it later. It also begs the question how the royalty actually moved through the gardens. I can hardly see them trekking around in all that getup, powdered make-up dripping off their brows. It is said that Louis XIV had "15 rolling chairs upholstered in damask of various colors for his less energetic guests."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh87aYxwmI/AAAAAAAABY0/QiKHEj7I0WE/s1600-h/IMG_0906a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh87aYxwmI/AAAAAAAABY0/QiKHEj7I0WE/s400/IMG_0906a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195039530309239394" /></a><br /><br />4. Man either emerging from, or returning to, the earth. The volcanic-like rock is a nice touch. If the fountains were on, it looks like water would shoot out of his mouth. Turns out, the real explanation is that this is the story of winter as "...a sad old Saturn lies down wearily amid the shells and seaweed." Looks more like agony than tiredness to me...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh9SqYxwnI/AAAAAAAABY8/5-vjpTyBJLM/s1600-h/IMG_0965a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh9SqYxwnI/AAAAAAAABY8/5-vjpTyBJLM/s400/IMG_0965a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195039929741197938" /></a><br /><br />3. Marie Antoinette's Hamlet. Commissioned by Marie Antoinette, this was a collection of 8 small, idealized thatch-roofed cottages that may have inspired Disney himself. The plaster walls were even painted with cracks to make them look weathered and authentic. This life-size doll house came complete with vegetables, livestock, a mill, and dairy. Unlike any other part of the estate, access was strictly limited here and even the King had to ask her permission to come. Some describe this as a Queen's desperate attempt to get away from the grandeur and formality of the palace to a simpler, rustic country life. Others look at is as a perverse playground, costing too much money, and where even the lambs were groomed and perfumed for times when she wanted to play shepherdess. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBiCKKYxwvI/AAAAAAAABZ8/EOcfzTVUsxQ/s1600-h/IMG_0922a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBiCKKYxwvI/AAAAAAAABZ8/EOcfzTVUsxQ/s400/IMG_0922a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195045281270448882" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBiCKqYxwxI/AAAAAAAABaM/lRt5nf129QU/s1600-h/IMG_0933a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBiCKqYxwxI/AAAAAAAABaM/lRt5nf129QU/s400/IMG_0933a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195045289860383506" /></a><br />Today sheep graze just outside of the Hamlet. With its extra-fluffy mane, this one looks like it could be worthy of Marie Antoinette's sensibilities.<br /><br />2. The Orangerie. This is an entertaining symphony of plant placement. We think that every white tick mark on the ground will get a potted plant and, while we were there, workers were busy bringing them out of winter storage. This was just another way the King showed his power. Despite the fact that none of the 21 varieties of citrus, palm, pomegranate, clove, and oleander potted plants can survive in the French climate, HE was able to make them grow and bear fruit. This was (and is) an elaborately orchestrated and expensive proposition. Only outside in the warmer months, the pots are all carted back indoors inside massive cavities beneath the staircases and balustrade. In the 17th century, the gardeners kept the plants warm during the winter with fires made with coal imported from England. I'm guessing these plants were warmer than the peasants.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh-oqYxwoI/AAAAAAAABZE/dcMcklaUHyQ/s1600-h/IMG_0884a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh-oqYxwoI/AAAAAAAABZE/dcMcklaUHyQ/s400/IMG_0884a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195041407209947778" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh-paYxwpI/AAAAAAAABZM/9cfNZq1fi3M/s1600-h/IMG_0989a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh-paYxwpI/AAAAAAAABZM/9cfNZq1fi3M/s400/IMG_0989a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195041420094849682" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh-pqYxwqI/AAAAAAAABZU/PSQBub-BngA/s1600-h/IMG_1354.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh-pqYxwqI/AAAAAAAABZU/PSQBub-BngA/s400/IMG_1354.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195041424389816994" /></a><br />Careful... careful... this palm brushed the top of the giant doors, but certainly wasn't the tallest one we saw come out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh-p6YxwrI/AAAAAAAABZc/2eiHGFCcQys/s1600-h/IMG_0995a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh-p6YxwrI/AAAAAAAABZc/2eiHGFCcQys/s400/IMG_0995a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195041428684784306" /></a> <br /><br />1. The Bosquet de la Salle de Bal. To us, this is the volcanic "Roman" amphitheater. Turns out this is more literally a "ballroom." According to some information I found, "...spectators were seated on... steps cushioned for them with a covering of grass. [I'm guessing the boxwoods weren't there then] Opposite them, water cascaded down the steps inset with shells brought back to France by Louis's navy from India, Madagascar and the Red Sea. The musicians stood above this cascade while dancers performed in the centre of the <span style="font-style:italic;">salle</span>. Candelabra perched between the waterfalls illuminated this <span style="font-style:italic;">scéne de fée</span>."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh7o6YxweI/AAAAAAAABX0/uZaoO630mu0/s1600-h/IMG_0987a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh7o6YxweI/AAAAAAAABX0/uZaoO630mu0/s400/IMG_0987a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195038112970031586" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh7paYxwfI/AAAAAAAABX8/l9--FkF9dIU/s1600-h/IMG_0982a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh7paYxwfI/AAAAAAAABX8/l9--FkF9dIU/s400/IMG_0982a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195038121559966194" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh7paYxwgI/AAAAAAAABYE/UGqo1WiYpcA/s1600-h/IMG_0985a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh7paYxwgI/AAAAAAAABYE/UGqo1WiYpcA/s400/IMG_0985a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195038121559966210" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh7pqYxwhI/AAAAAAAABYM/Ukp8jQKaX1k/s1600-h/IMG_0988a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBh7pqYxwhI/AAAAAAAABYM/Ukp8jQKaX1k/s400/IMG_0988a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195038125854933522" /></a><br />Some unfortunate worker had the pleasure of individually wiring each of these stones to a framework judging by a small hole we found.<br /><br />If you end up in the neighborhood, it's good to know that the gardens themselves are free, but just about anything inside will cost. On summer weekends, starting in April, they turn on all the fountains and play music. They also charge an admission. As Pat said, that's probably fair since there are SO MANY fountains that they probably need the money to break even on the utility bills :) Seeing the gardens with the fountains on would totally change it and, I'm sure, would be even more impressive. I guess it gives us a reason to possibly return someday.<br /><br />Built for Kings given power by God himself, this place is insane. As you walk around, you can't help but quote Mel Brooks... "It's good to be the King."jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-424497615063604609.post-27949108791344337512008-04-30T10:43:00.003+01:002008-05-01T18:43:17.350+01:00ParisAh, Paris. City of lights, city of love. The trip that almost didn't happen. (Note to future UK train travelers—local train service on the weekend can be canceled on a whim without notification and there is little to no personnel at the train station early in the morning to help you. You're suppose to know to check that the train is running before you leave. We didn't and barely made the Eurostar train from London to Paris by a different route—a stressful start.)<br /><br />I'm not going to write about what I don't know, and that's a lot when it comes to France. Neither Pat nor I know French or much about the history, culture, and politics of the country. The cities we visited on this trip are some of those unusual places that neither one of us had been before. <br /><br />Afraid of the snobbish French stereotype, we tried our best to use some simple French phrases, mostly "Parlez-vous anglais... s'il vous plaît??" (Do you speak English... please??) Even that, we probably didn't pronounce correctly—we would have embarrassed Jannelle quite a bit :) The really sad part is that we have spent more time trying to learn Italian and more time in Italy recently so we were si-ing when we should have been oui-ing. It surprised me how much Italian I have retained and how that always came to mind first when struggling for basic phrases. This is not to say that I could survive in Italy using only simple Italian either. Pat's co-workers assured him that he'd be able to get by using mostly English in France, that the French rudeness has dissipated when faced with the almighty tourist Euro. I told Pat we weren't there to make friends, just to see what we wanted to see, and try to be polite enough that we wouldn't get a lugee in our food. Sightseeing in Paris for 2 1/2 days, we got to see everything we had planned to, but there is certainly a lot more out there. You could probably spend a week in the myriad of museums alone, not to mention all of the neighborhoods we didn't get a chance to see.<br /><br />With all of that being said, what follows is our very subjective view of Paris, comprised mostly of pretty pictures...<br /><br />What struck us almost immediately is the large scale, and very dramatic, city planning. The French seem to be experts in sculpting views. It becomes very obvious that this can only be achieved through a tyrannical monarchy with a strong vision. Our very first stop was at Napoleon I's Arc de Triomphe, where 12 streets intersect in one massive, chaotic roundabout with no lanes (think <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h3uFeauIRrA">Chevy Chase's European Vacation</a> x 10). This is the only roundabout in Paris where the people coming into it have the right of way. It's also the only place where neither party is at fault if you're in an accident and both insurance companies split the bill 50-50. Luckily, there's an underground passageway for pedestrians to safely reach the Arc in the center of this madness. We climbed the 284 steps inside the Arc to tour the interior rooms (there are a few and they're surprisingly large) and to get a better view of Paris (and the entertaining traffic below) from the top.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBd7YqYxv_I/AAAAAAAABT8/rXLpDg8dGOg/s1600-h/IMG_471a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBd7YqYxv_I/AAAAAAAABT8/rXLpDg8dGOg/s400/IMG_471a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194756358820446194" /></a><br /><br />As you stand at the Arc, you can see straight down the Champs-Elysées to the Egyptian obelisk, and into the center of the Louvre.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeJAqYxwSI/AAAAAAAABWU/L_jD7KwGRHQ/s1600-h/IMG_0492a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeJAqYxwSI/AAAAAAAABWU/L_jD7KwGRHQ/s400/IMG_0492a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194771339666374946" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBd7y6YxwBI/AAAAAAAABUM/zyg8hXHk9bM/s1600-h/IMG_489a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBd7y6YxwBI/AAAAAAAABUM/zyg8hXHk9bM/s400/IMG_489a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194756809792012306" /></a><br /><br />The 3,300 year old, 72 ft., 220-ton red granite obelisk of Luxor was a gift from Egypt in the 1830s and took 2 years of torturous travel to get from Egypt to its current resting place. What always amazes me about these ancient obelisks, whether here or in Rome, is how perfect and crisp the engravings are since they were done in such a hard stone. They always look brand new to me.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBd8B6YxwCI/AAAAAAAABUU/cOtZk6pj5dg/s1600-h/IMG_0825a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBd8B6YxwCI/AAAAAAAABUU/cOtZk6pj5dg/s400/IMG_0825a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194757067490050082" /></a><br /><br />In the space between the obelisk and the Louvre are the manicured Tuileries Gardens, gilded fountains on the Place de la Concorde square, and another smaller Arc du Carrousel.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeYCaYxwZI/AAAAAAAABXM/rPfJ61MdDCM/s1600-h/IMG_817a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeYCaYxwZI/AAAAAAAABXM/rPfJ61MdDCM/s400/IMG_817a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194787862405562770" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBd9LqYxwDI/AAAAAAAABUc/Z8nK0VmjSec/s1600-h/IMG_842a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBd9LqYxwDI/AAAAAAAABUc/Z8nK0VmjSec/s400/IMG_842a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194758334505402418" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBd-SqYxwFI/AAAAAAAABUs/XRs3fGnqtw4/s1600-h/IMG_0784a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBd-SqYxwFI/AAAAAAAABUs/XRs3fGnqtw4/s400/IMG_0784a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194759554276114514" /></a><br /><br />If I knew, I forgot that the Louvre started out as a palace that dates back to 1200—it only became an art museum after the Revolution in 1793. The large, airy, ostentatious interiors made an interesting backdrop to the art. Seeing the mob scene at the Louvre, I was afraid of another Sistine Chapel repeat (being herded like cattle almost single file through a maze of hot, sweaty rooms where you have to wear pants and where I became thoroughly disgusted by the wealth of the catholic church). I can report that the Louvre is better than the Vatican Museum. It is temperature controlled, there isn't a dress code, and most importantly, there are infinite routes to take and lots of space so that you can avoid the press of humanity.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBd-gaYxwGI/AAAAAAAABU0/W1G8qiuj0NE/s1600-h/IMG_0776a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBd-gaYxwGI/AAAAAAAABU0/W1G8qiuj0NE/s400/IMG_0776a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194759790499315810" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeAb6YxwHI/AAAAAAAABU8/EwVg4ezF6js/s1600-h/IMG_1300a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeAb6YxwHI/AAAAAAAABU8/EwVg4ezF6js/s400/IMG_1300a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194761912213160050" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeKbaYxwTI/AAAAAAAABWc/VR5EsHtLlwc/s1600-h/IMG_1165a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeKbaYxwTI/AAAAAAAABWc/VR5EsHtLlwc/s400/IMG_1165a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194772898739503410" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeCqaYxwKI/AAAAAAAABVU/iQHaIDrybdU/s1600-h/IMG_1145a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeCqaYxwKI/AAAAAAAABVU/iQHaIDrybdU/s400/IMG_1145a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194764360344518818" /></a><br /><br />Of course, the most crowded parts are around the most popular attractions. We braved the throngs to see the Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo statue, and The Winged Victory of Samothrace statue. I didn't realize Napoleon III's apartments in the palace had been left intact so we ran through those so I could see what the gilded age was all about. As I expected, it's complete visual overload with grandeur dripping from every orifice, but a marvel, or maybe a curiosity, similar to a traffic accident. Below is a picture of a more digestable room—I couldn't bring myself to take a picture of the really gaudy stuff.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeB3qYxwII/AAAAAAAABVE/sI8Gx4kCxZU/s1600-h/IMG_1164a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeB3qYxwII/AAAAAAAABVE/sI8Gx4kCxZU/s400/IMG_1164a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194763488466157698" /></a><br /><br />As I've said before, we're not museum people so we spent as much time in there as our feet and patience could take and then headed back out into the world where the sun was shining for the first time during our trip. <br /><br />We visited Ile de la Cité, Pont Neuf, Ile St. Louis and, of course, Notre Dame. I don't know if it's because we now live within sight of the Minster in York, or if it's because I've visited more churches in the last 9 months than in my lifetime combined, but it wasn't as impactful as I would have thought and actually looked small. Of course it's still worth seeing. The buttresses are flying elegantly, the rose windows are more impressive in scale and number than any I've seen, and in the spring you have beauty blooming all around it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeDC6YxwLI/AAAAAAAABVc/qW6zXVItVQo/s1600-h/IMG_678a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeDC6YxwLI/AAAAAAAABVc/qW6zXVItVQo/s400/IMG_678a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194764781251313842" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeDnqYxwMI/AAAAAAAABVk/EmjAvNdB-q4/s1600-h/IMG_700a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeDnqYxwMI/AAAAAAAABVk/EmjAvNdB-q4/s400/IMG_700a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194765412611506370" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBgsKKYxwcI/AAAAAAAABXk/zDgXNcxYscw/s1600-h/IMG_0655a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBgsKKYxwcI/AAAAAAAABXk/zDgXNcxYscw/s400/IMG_0655a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194950723270459842" /></a><br /><br />Then there's the Eiffel Tower—one of those international icons that lives up to its reputation when you see it in person. What truly amazes me is that it was meant to be temporary and was suppose to be torn down in 1909, but is still structurally sound today. I was surprised that it's brown. I guess most of the images I've seen are black and white or artificially darkened because of the bright sky behind. Here's an interesting Wikipedia fact on that... "Maintenance of the tower includes applying 50 to 60 tonnes of paint every seven years to protect it from rust. In order to maintain a uniform appearance to an observer on the ground, three separate colors of paint are used on the tower, with the darkest on the bottom and the lightest at the top. On occasion the color of the paint is changed; the tower is currently painted a shade of brownish-grey." When it gets dark, the tower has a light show for the first 10 minutes of every hour—white lights all over the structure blink randomly making it glitter. It is well worth seeing.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeD4aYxwNI/AAAAAAAABVs/xwayGKWQxzM/s1600-h/IMG_1201a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeD4aYxwNI/AAAAAAAABVs/xwayGKWQxzM/s400/IMG_1201a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194765700374315218" /></a><br /><br />Advice for future travelers to the Eiffel Tower: 1) Go with patience. You're easily looking at more than an hour wait to go up, day or night, even midweek. I overheard in line that you can buy tickets in advance online and get into the almost non-existent fast lane. That would be worth looking into. 2) Be prepared for a carnival atmosphere—there are carousels, ice cream galore, and trinkets available from every third person. It is after all probably THE tourist sight in Paris. 3) They say the view from the second level is usually best because of pollution, etc. at the top. It is a pretty view, but I'd have to admit that the Empire State Building is better (at least at night—the "City of Lights" can't compete with the amount of electricity surging through the Big Apple anymore).<br /><br />Riding the elevator inside the tower is an experience in itself. The original mechanisms for lifting the elevator are still being used, but have been restored and computerized. As Wikipedia describes, "The passenger lifts from ground level to the first level are operated by cables and pulleys driven by massive water-powered pistons. As they ascend the inclined arc of the legs, the elevator cabins tilt slightly, but with a slight jolt every few seconds, in order to keep the floor nearly level." This, in addition to the glass walls of the elevator, can be a little disconcerting. When you get out you can see the little platform on the outside of the elevator where the "driver" used to control the elevator with a wheel—not a job I would want. Now the "drivers" are inside pushing buttons.<br /><br />Ok, so enough of the big sights. You have to see them, but one of the real reasons I wanted to go to Paris was to experience the ambiance, or je ne sais quoi, that you always hear about.<br /><br />For this, you only have to walk the streets to experience it. Between the architectural elegance, the thousands of sidewalk cafes, sidewalk art, leafy green parks, and the tasty treats on every corner, Paris is a special place.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeFbKYxwQI/AAAAAAAABWE/kXhdWR5QieA/s1600-h/IMG_0569a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeFbKYxwQI/AAAAAAAABWE/kXhdWR5QieA/s400/IMG_0569a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194767396886397186" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeEYqYxwPI/AAAAAAAABV8/Cxh47X7VrgA/s1600-h/IMG_1068a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeEYqYxwPI/AAAAAAAABV8/Cxh47X7VrgA/s400/IMG_1068a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194766254425096434" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeEIaYxwOI/AAAAAAAABV0/omSmrxPpYyM/s1600-h/IMG_1171a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeEIaYxwOI/AAAAAAAABV0/omSmrxPpYyM/s400/IMG_1171a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194765975252222178" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeX2KYxwYI/AAAAAAAABXE/p31ldTrqX3U/s1600-h/IMG_662a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeX2KYxwYI/AAAAAAAABXE/p31ldTrqX3U/s400/IMG_662a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194787651952165250" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeZl6YxwaI/AAAAAAAABXU/2dbK8EKWkn8/s1600-h/IMG_1176a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeZl6YxwaI/AAAAAAAABXU/2dbK8EKWkn8/s400/IMG_1176a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194789571802546594" /></a><br />(Pont Alexandre III bridge across the Seine)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeLpqYxwUI/AAAAAAAABWk/k7hil9_4uto/s1600-h/IMG_795a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeLpqYxwUI/AAAAAAAABWk/k7hil9_4uto/s400/IMG_795a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194774243064267074" /></a><br />(one of the original Metro, or subway, entrances)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeMUaYxwVI/AAAAAAAABWs/h2_rDmM9O9A/s1600-h/IMG_1046a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeMUaYxwVI/AAAAAAAABWs/h2_rDmM9O9A/s400/IMG_1046a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194774977503674706" /></a><br />(a little Art Nouveau that reminded us of Barcelona)<br /><br />The cuisine (I think referring to it as "food" might be insulting) was great. Not to say that we didn't have a bad meal, but the majority were so good they canceled out the bad. Excellent sauces, tender beef, creamy potatoes, wonderful quiche, chocolate mousse, and chocolate cake gave us a taste of what French cooking is all about. Pat even dove into some excellent escargot and mussels—I'll have to take his word for that. We also had some good international fare ranging from sushi (how we miss you) and gyros. I can safely say much of it was better than anything I've had in Britain (with the exception of Indian and Sticky Toffee Pudding).<br /><br />What I really appreciate is the bread culture. In Britain, they are big proponents of free-range eggs. I would say the French are big fans of free-range bread. I can't tell you how many times I saw people walking the streets with a big old baguette in their hand. Naked, golden crust exposed to the wind and held only by a napkin handle, these loaves get a good view of the town on their way to the chopping block—what better way to live? In fact, the French take their bread products so seriously that you can only be qualified to make either bread OR pastry, since it is assumed that no one person can do BOTH well :) Many times, the two disciplines will partner to sell both goods in one store. Judging by the number of free-range loaves and quantity of boulangeries/pâtisseries (bread shops/pastry shops), buying fresh bread must be an almost daily event. That's a love affair I can get on board with. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeF0qYxwRI/AAAAAAAABWM/fYQAXC6zcgI/s1600-h/IMG_1058a.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FMMZInwZe9g/SBeF0qYxwRI/AAAAAAAABWM/fYQAXC6zcgI/s400/IMG_1058a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194767834973061394" /></a><br /><br />We frequented our local boulangerie/pâtisserie for breakfasts, feasting on superb bread, croissants, and other pastry treats with apple, almond, or chocolate fillings. The nice thing about the French versions is that they aren't sickly sweet like the American attempts. Don't get me wrong, I am not under the impression that they are healthy, but you do need some fuel for the "Bataan Death March" as Pat fondly referred to our vacation.<br /><br />Feet tired and sore, but stomachs pleasantly full, we left Paris... au revoir!jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16920944056488802152noreply@blogger.com0