I'm back in the UK again

I am back in Britain for another five months, hoping to travel as much as possible and to share my journeys with anyone who will listen. Some of my readers complained that I wrote too much last time, but I am, by nature, a long-winded raconteur, so I don’t know if I can change. Besides, perhaps more than anything, this blog is mostly for me, to serve as a travel record. Join me if you wish.

My arrival in the UK was hampered by the problems of flying to the UK caused by the volcanic ash spewing into the air from the erupting volcano Eyjafjallajokull in Iceland. But after a scenic detour over the Azores, across Spain and up the coast of France, I eventually arrived at Heathrow only two hours late to be met by my daughter and her family.

I have been hiking more back home in Nova Scotia, with my son, and intend to continue to do so here. So almost immediately upon arrival in Caversfield in Oxfordshire where my family lives in a house they jokingly have named “Blandy House,” I set off on my first amble, to nearby Fringford to enjoy a ½ pint of Guinness in the local pub, The Butchers Arms.

Another day, I walked over to Stratton Audley, quite a picturesque little village, to enjoy strolling through a perfect English church yard. I also found a small pub, not very originally named The Red Lion. A big, friendly yellow Labrador was sprawled out on the floor in front of the bar, meaning I had to stretch over him for my Guinness. Even I had to duck to walk under some of the lower ceiling beams. It depresses me that so many English pubs are closing. One proprietor told me that part of the decline in patronage is caused by the ban of smoking. Another is changing lifestyles. Yet I fear that those who are going to more modern restaurants and bars in towns and cities have no sense of what they are doing, the cultural price the country will pay. It is particularly awful to see the springing up of North American fast food outfits—KFC, Subway, McDonald’s, Pizza Delight, Starbucks, and the like.

The old church in Stratton Audley has a very well-kept grave-yard. With ivy festooning from tombstones it is very pretty and relaxing.

I enjoy ambling about the countryside, and am impressed by the public footpaths. Yet, on each of my recent walks I have “lost” the footpath when it seemed to disappear suddenly. One landowner is careful to mark the path, sometimes by the way he plants his crop or with signs, but another offers no indicators whatsoever. A friend loaned me an ordinance map with the footpaths marked, but sometimes it provides only a general direction. Perhaps I need a compass!

Here is a typical stile/bridge crossing from one field to another on the footpath from Fringford. Later I found I had been standing in a patch of stinging nettles to take this photo!

On another day I walked over to Bucknell and found a very friendly pub, The Trigger Pond. There I had a long chat with the manager and wait staff about the concept of the Pub Quiz, with the suggestion that I might be able to encourage the owner of my own local back home to try something similar.

On my walk home I passed many acres of vibrant yellow rapeseed fields, dazzling in their bright yellow floral display.

One day my family chose to take my grandson to Legoland again. It's located in Windsor, so I took advantage of the opportunity to visit Windsor Castle again. I had intended to walk about the Great Park, but I misunderstood how really LONG the Long Walk is—from the castle to the park. Plus, it also happened to be the hottest day so far in Britain, so I turned back to re-visit the castle itself.

I took two tours of the State Apartments and also looked at the exhibition of photographs by Royal Photographer Marcus Adams. I took my time to look at the artworks, collections and architectural details. I had a long conversation with one of the guides about the fire and he took out some photographs of the damage and debris. Most of the rooms now open to the public were roofless after the fire. The restoration has been quite remarkable. Of particular interest was a giant Russian vase (at least a tonne) covered in Mastiche, which he said broke off in jigsaw-like pieces during the fire; the pieces had to be recovered by sifting through the debris and re-glued to the vase. Most furnishings had been removed from these rooms of the Castle for a re-wiring project, so escaped damage. He also told me that the tapestries are attached to the walls with Velcro. I don't really believe him.

Today I spent more time exploring St. George’s Chapel. I was fascinated by the circumstances of the burials of Jane Seymour, Henry VIII, and Charles 1^st under the floor of the “quire.” Henry had ordered an elaborate tomb, but it was never completed. In the chapel I could read about the “discovery” of the burial vault and the exhumation of King Charles in the 1800s. Apparently the lead casket of King Henry was badly damaged, but I have not been able so far to find more information. The Chapel is a feast for the eyes for those who appreciate the evidence of master craftsmanship in stone carving and wood carving. Carvings are still being repaired, replaced and added.

The three statues seen on the arch at the apex of the west entrance to the chapel are of the Virgin Mary, St. George, and St. Edward the Confessor. This view is from what is called the Horseshoe Cloister in the Lower Ward of Windsor Castle. The Lay Clerks (the men of the choir) live in homes around the Horseshoe Cloister.

The Long Walk, from the East Gate to Windsor Castle, looking toward The Great Park, in the far distance. This was the start of a May heat-wave in the UK, so it was unbearably hot. That’s my excuse for only walking half-way to The Park.

I passed The Royal Mausoleum at Frogmore, but it does not open until the May 31^st Bank Holiday. Built by and for Queen Victoria because she preferred to be buried with Prince Albert in a tomb-house in the private garden of Frogmore House, an idea from the family of Saxe-Coburg in Germany, from which both Victoria’s mother and husband came. Prince Albert died in 1861 and the mausoleum was started soon after. The Prince’s remains were entombed in 1868, and Queen Victoria was laid beside him after her death in 1911.

I enjoy visiting the nearby town of Banbury for shopping. Here, the Oxford Canal runs through Banbury alongside the modern Castle Quay shopping complex. Perhaps I can take a Canal Boat ride soon.

Banbury, like most British towns, is a mosaic of old traditional styles and modern ones. Here, an old pub—Ye Olde Reine Deer Inn—and a modern Thai Restaurant.

This old pub in Banbury is now a small restaurant and houses a shoe repair shop and a vacant shop.

The street scenes in Windsor are planned to attract tourists to spend their money, of course, but are still fun to watch.
The Crooked House on the High Street was a perfect place for a relaxing cup of tea after a long day.
England is a contrast of old and new styles; here, in Windsor, a wrought-iron display on Peascod Street.
The traditional English thatched cottage, this one in Bucknell. I confess to loving everything about the UK, and want to see as much as I can during the next five months. Next week, maybe I'll return to London and Oxford. In June it will be the coast of Ireland.