I strolled down the street of our Airbnb in Strathblane this morning. It was not quite 40°F and frosty.
We walked into Carlisle Cathedral, songs of the choir echoing through the grand halls.
Sir Walter Scott was married in this place.
I did my best to harmonize with the hymns being sung. Photography was not allowed inside the main hall during the service (if you’re interested, click the link above). I kept looking up. So grand and glorious it was. Built 900 years ago, it still is a haven of prayer and faith for the city.
Our parking spot was only for an hour, so we left conveniently right before the Eucharist.
After that, we drove to Penrith and tried to get afternoon tea at one of the Royal hotels, but we had to book a day in advance. We ended up at Neaum Cafe for coffees, ginger cake, and a pesto & mozzarella toastie. I went into another hotel but they didn’t serve afternoon tea. We’re planning to go tomorrow in the Cotswolds.
On our way to lunch, Dad spotted an antique shop. Right inside the door, sat a very out of tune piano. I’ve actually missed practicing, so I played the one song I know.
I got lost in the scent of old books and the sight of thousands of relics. I searched inside the £175 wardrobes for Narnia. I’m so pleased with the treasures I found (quite inexpensive). I’ll share the keepsakes I got on this trip once I’m home.
Talbot Arms, another place that Ella visited last year. I had the odd idea to order a cheddar and pickle sandwich, and the brilliant idea to order a pot of tea.
The lady with a perfect Yorkshire accent- just like Martha Sowerby from The Secret Garden – seemed kind enough to ask for the cream pitcher. I asked if she had any to spare that I could buy. She replied that they’re changing hands soon and moving to Cambria, so I could have it. I gave her my painting of Idaho as a thank you; then she came back with a clean pitcher and another cute one! She told us how she is excited for a quieter life, not living above the pub, and that she’ll frame my picture in her new home. Oh and she shared the recipe they use for sticky toffee pudding.
After we ate I wanted to see more of the town. The main road had too many lurking humans, so I took the back streets. I saw a couple walking home, a man staring out his window at the street, two people in their back yard, and a mum unloading her crying child from the car.
Yorkshire is the most quaint area, even the cows are perfect.
For the first time, we had the wrong address in for our Airbnb. We had to park up the street; so once we had already carried all of our things, I looked at the door and discovered it’s the wrong spot. This was a moment we needed to be reminded to laugh about the mistakes. Mom and I definitely did.
Touching grass, in fact, is a lovely way to become less irritable.
My autumn loving soul cannot handle the absolute cinema of Wycoller Park.
A couple was beginning their walk when we pulled up to the houses. The lady came and told us that we had to go to the car park and walk down. We had been too enamored with the beauty, none of us saw the sign that said, “residents only.” Dad drove back while I walked down the lonely path, and I don’t know where exactly the others went.
You may realize that we get separated a lot. It is for our own sanity.
The path was a most tranquil place. I felt like Elizabeth Bennett and kept thinking, “I’m very fond of walking.”
I wandered through a few gates and to a spot where my only choice was to cross the creek. I didn’t see a bridge until I walked to the banks. Later I watched a farmer on his four wheeler cross the creek, and observed that it was quite shallow.
The ruins of Wycoller Hall, a 1500’s manor house.
Grant and I talked with the same couple after they got back from their walk. They shared with us some of the historical details, gave restaurant recommendations, and places to visit in London. As we talked, we mentioned the cold and I asked if it gets much cooler. They said it’s tropical for them right now, yikes.
I asked them if there are rules for what they can built/ change in their homes. There’s a heritage society which rules that they have to keep the roof stone etc.
I love talking with locals, but my ear for understanding this accent needs to be improved. Especially if I move here.
Somewhere along the path I picked some mint to eat. My finger burned immediately. Grant said, “ I literally just asked if that was stinging nettle.” Oops. I need to practice my herb knowledge.
I saw a sign for this farm back on the path. It didn’t close until 7, so we procured gelato and yogurt.
We got to the -right- Airbnb earlier than in the past, so I expected to have this written much sooner…
England adventure calls first.
Grant kept saying how he wanted pizza, and eventually the thought caught on with the rest of us. We found that the recommended pub had a pizza menu, so we got presentable and loaded into our car. The pub was in fact closed already, being 9:00. There was a takeout pizzeria a piece farther away, but they only accepted cash. (Oh, and as soon as we walked in a man came in asking for help to push his car. I stayed inside while my family checked to see what was happening, but his friends came and helped him).
One of the delivery drivers led us to an ATM. Dad couldn’t remember the right PIN, so Grant used his card. The cash literally has Jane Austen and a quote of hers on one side. I was convinced it was fake. It bought us a £14, 18” pizza, though.
Grant waited at the pizza shop. My parents and I went to get petrol. On the mile journey there; Papa drove on the wrong side of the road twice, rounded the round-about twice, ran one red light, and raised mom’s heart rate times one half.
I fear the fumes of the gas made mom and I lose touch with any reality we’ve had previously.
Mom sneezed. We laughed.
Mom found stale mint chocolate cake. I ate a bite. We wheezed.
Mom sneezed again. We screamed.
I thought of some funny things from the trip that cannot be uttered. We cried.
Then dad came back and we were chill again.
I forgot to mention I absolute bones cold I was. And still am. Chattering teeth and all. It magnifies the laughter too.
We ate all but one piece of this fantastic pizza. I’m a pizza snob. Rarely does it get that rating.
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