Part 3: Wessex

Who doesn't come to Britain and see the most famous wonder of all?

We arrive at Stonehenge early on a gorgeous Monday. I know it is a World Heritage Site, that it was the centre of one of the world's earliest cultures, built at least 4,500 years ago, and that the bringing and the placing of the Sarsen Stones were remarkable feats of engineering. Knowing about Stonehenge does not really prepare me for actually seeing what the facts tell me. When we see it first, from the roadway, Mary comments that she thought it would be bigger! Our first view on the ground, however, convinces her that the size of Stonehenge is not what matters: it is the intricacy of the design and the mystery of its being there that impresses anyone who stands facing it. This photo across the Slaughter Stone shows the Circle of Sarsen Stones with connecting lintels.

What I do--and everyone else does it also--is take plenty of photographs. And yet I am aware that there is really nothing that ever changes here, that all our photos are the same. We photograph one another, of course, but the great stones have stood like this for centuries--or at least since the last restorative work; it bothers me to know that in the last century (1919) some of the stones were set in concrete! I photograph the Heel Stone which was once one of two Sarsens that stood at the entrance to the enclosure. I study my guide book to learn more: another major engineering project began in 1958, raising the entire trilithon that had fallen in 1797. After excavation and archaeological studies, the great stones were freed from the earth, later to be reset in concrete and to have the lintel replaced.

Here are the stones (right) set upright in 1919.

When I look at my photos, I am pleased that mostly I have avoided placing unknown people in them. And there are plenty of people here. I laugh when I first approach them because everyone has a cellphone-like audio gadget up to his or her ear, listening intently to the pre-recorded tour. It looks weird, because no one is talking, just listening. I depend on my guidebook, which tells me that the biggest problem at Stonehenge is not the people but the traffic. It "suffers from its surroundings," the book says. "It sits on a triangle of land, bordered on two sides by busy roads that cut it off from its surrounding landscape." Plans are to place the A303 road in a bored tunnel and to close the A344 road. The car park will be removed and the visitors' centre moved two miles to the east. "A land train would transport visitors to within walking distance of the stone," I read. We do not stay for a long time, but I have learned much and I am glad we have come to this iconic place, if only as four of this year's 850,000 visitors!

From one ancient, still mysterious, place of worship, to another: The great Salisbury Cathedral.

I photograph the spire from the Cloisters. The spire, at 404 feet, is the highest in England, and I recall that this is what inspired Sir William Golding's novel, The Spire. (I should have asked him about that the night we had dinner together, but I didn't think to do so!)

Salisbury was built 1220-1258 in Early English Gothic and surely is impressive. I notice a fully operation restoration yard behind the cathedral and evidence of on-going restorative work.

For me, the most inspiring moment is when I step into the Quire, with its full set of intricately carved seats, and look toward the High Altar. It features the 1980 Prisoners of Conscience Window, designed by M. Gabriel Loire, Chartres in France. The exquisite fan vaulted ceiling of the cathedral is also stunning.

My grandson, Sam, is himself angelic, and I am grateful for how patient he is to allow me to take my time and see such majestic sights as Stonehenge and Salisbury Cathedral. These are not sites designed for six-year-old boys, but he seems to enjoy them. We let him take photos and to explore. He chooses a spot against the wall of the cathedral that he feels certain is a good backdrop for his photo. He is right. The little man loves the details, as in this photo of a rainspout near the front entrance.

We are ready to leave before Mary remembers that we forgot to view the Magna Carta in the Chapter Room. We go back to see this document, described as "the finest of only four surviving (1215) Magna Carta."

We find a pleasant place for lunch in Salisbury, before driving to our inn in Taunton. The food is mediocre, one of the few times we don't rave about our fare. We arrive at Taunton early, and choose to look for a cider-making farm we see advertised. It turns out to be delightful, not only because it is called Sheppy's. The brochure says: "In the vale of Taunton the Sheppy family continues the nearly lost tradition of farmer/cider maker, farming 370 acres, including 47 acres of orchards. They have been making cider in the West Country since the early 1800s. Their quality ciders have earned over 200 awards and two gold medals." It all reminds us of home, of Stirlings and Elderkins and of Noggins Corner Farms. There is a delightful gift shop where I buy some postcards, a Sheppy's cider glass, and a bottle of Sheppy's Apple Juice. Mary is distraught to learn we cannot buy any cider, because here it is only alcoholic! We also tour the farm and see donkeys, very fat hogs, and, obviously, sheep!

For these trips as a family, we have opted to stay only in Premier Inns, a UK-based hotel chain. None has been a disappointment and this one in Taunton is a delight. We stay in an annex, brand-new, and eat at the carvery in the Blackbrook Tavern, associated with the Inn. If in this area we will stay here again.

In the morning, after a hearty breakfast we will drive through Devon to Cornwall.