A Day In The Journey

After my introduction to London Landmarks, Inc., it was time for a little something with more local flavor. I would like to insert here that the Oyster card system is much more confusing for guests than the MetroCard of NYC. Let me explain: the MetroCard offers the lovely option of buying a week's worth of unlimited travel, regardless of where in the city you travel, including on buses. All bus trips and subway trips cost the same (except for express buses which cost a little more). So, even if you decided on a pay-as-you-go card, the fare deductions are fairly simple. Fares in London aren't nearly so simple. Like a toll road, fares vary based on what zones you travel through: more zones mean higher fare. Now, a Day Travelcard is offered. But trying to figure out whether it's cheaper to pay for a Travelcard or just load money on an Oyster card gets complicated since it all depends on where you might be going and how many trips you might be taking. Granted, there is also a daily fare cap that kicks in on the Oyster card to try and prevent users from spending more than they would with a Travelcard. But again, the fare cap varies based on the zones you travel through as you make your many Underground trips. So...complicated. In the end, for the sake of simplicity and on the rather vague recommendation of a Transit worker, I went with a regular old Oyster card. I will say the top-up system is very smooth and pleasant to use. Following the purchase of a card and addition of monies to said card, we headed northeast to Camden Town.

Camden Town is quite an interesting place, really. Firstly, it is home to Camden Market, a collection of several markets that carry a variety of products: food (incidentally, the only Mexican food I saw in London was here. haha), vintage clothing and accessories, t-shirts of every type, artisan products, and your average flea market-style items. Also, it's really, really big. What's quite intriguing is how each market within the whole has a different ambience, exhibits a different aesthetic, carries a different style. I quite enjoyed the meander through the markets. I also found a t-shirt for my brother than I'd been scouring shops for. When I say they have just about every t-shirt you'll ever want (and some you'll cringe at the tackiness of), I mean it. Unfortunately for all of you, I didn't take any pictures there. So sad. Secondly, Camden is home to an interesting variety of resident. It is possibly the most various group of people I've seen: artists, hippies, goths, punk--you name it. It's definitely the artistic side of town. For dinner, we went to frankly the best burger joint I've ever been to. Actually, calling Haché a burger joint is a bit of a disservice, but "hamburger restaurant" sounds rather silly. Not only were the burgers amazingly good, the atmosphere was just beautiful--like having just the right sea-side cottage for your weekend of novel writing. It was delightful. (they also had wifi which I took some advantage of :-P) After dinner, there was a bit of walking about and enjoying Camden, followed by drinks at a very mod bar, Then it was back to the riverfront to find an art club/theatre experience called Shunt. In between was a detour through the Hays Galleria and The Horniman at Hay's, a very atmospheric pub. There was a game of Pétanque (rather like bocce, but on sand) going on while we were there. What was great were that the participants were all very well-dressed business, standing in sand in their expensive, tailored pants and even more expensive shoes to play a game of bowls. It was fabulous.

Shunt was, without a doubt, an incredibly interesting experience. Besides the mere fact that it takes place in underground vaults, the convergence of theatre arts was quite stunning. Visual art combined with film segments combined with really innovative performance art, it was definitely something worth experiencing. At least to me. haha. One area had several tables set up with cardboard, paper, scissors, hot glue guns, and various pictures of fish. Patrons gathered around the tables and used the supplies and pictures (or just the supplies) to create their own cardboard and paper sea creatures. This was fun. More fun than I expected despite my adoration of scissors and glue. :-P There were two performance art pieces that we enjoyed. The first was a noire throwback play with a couple of twists. It played like a silent film with the text running on a screen behind the action. The actors had completely reversed roles: male noir detective played by a female, femme fatale played by a male. And the entire thing was interspersed with incredibly well choreographed aerial silk routines to express the give and take of the interaction. It was really very well done. The second performance was quite different. In the second performance, a cellist played through a composition while the composer himself offered a physical interpretation of the piece. This one, to me, lacked a slight bit. While the emotional interpretation and reaction of the composer was in line with the musical tone and expression, as an audience member, I felt a lack of connection to him. I wanted to understand why he was experiencing the emotions he was attempting to communicate. I couldn't empathize as I had nothing with which to try and grasp his motivation. At the very least a title if not a concise intro--phrase or sentence--that would give me an anchor to his emotional progression. I wanted to empathize rather than just observe as his emotional interpretation was very convincing and quite well developed, but I was lacking something crucial: a context. That said, the composition was nicely developed, and the interpretive performance was thoughtful and well-executed. A small piece of context would have made it stellar. At any rate, the entire Shunt experience was completely worthwhile. Even when it turned out that our return would be convoluted and slightly harried as it was just late enough. Actually, it was a late return due to a walk back up and across the Thames before catching a train rather than catching the one nearest to Shunt. This was fine as the walk was lovely, but it did make for a complex way back. Here's what happens: in London, there are a high number of lines and trains; because of this, lesser used/necessary lines close for certain periods of the night in order to save money, etc. This is a bit different from NYC where there are fewer lines, but they run throughout the night. It was an interesting experience. We ended up missing the last switch, having to decipher bus maps in the semi-dark, walking a decent bit to the proper bus stop, and standing in the unreasonable cold until it arrived. It was certainly a transit adventure. Then, to top it off, I couldn't find the hotel room key in my bag. Yipee! The night clerk made a new one, though. Of course, as soon as I got into the room and dumped my bag, there it was. Classic. Arsty District: explored; Interesting Markets: shopped; British Beef: consumed; Fantastic Art Evening: experienced--Day Two: Complete.

These are photos of both Day 2 and 3, so you'll get to see them again when I do the next entry. :-P

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Arriving in London, I headed toward the hotel to drop off my bags as it was too early to actually check in. My meeting with Phillip was delayed due to his over-sleeping, but I managed to entertain myself by walking around Notting Hill until his train arrived at Paddington. Afternoon number one began with a walk through Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park. Kensington Palace itself is rather forbidding. Made entirely of red brick, it rather reminded me of large, industry-magnate estate home in the northeast, or of the buildings in Williamsburg, VA. Next to the palace are two items of interest: the Orangery and the Round Pond, a man-made pond filled with water fowl and surrounded by relaxing Londoners. But back to the Orangery for a moment. This is a lovely, very swanky restaurant. The customers were very obviously quite financially comfortable, even well-off; however, I had to laugh when I noticed two very large Golden Retrievers flopped under a table inside the building at which was sitting a rather well-to-do middle-aged couple. The other man-made water feature of the park is the Serpentine, a 28 acre Lake/River that spans both Kensington and Hyde Park. At the head of the Serpentine is the Italian Garden, a lovely sculptured area of statuary and fountains. The most beautiful and compelling of all the fountains in the park, though, is the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain. Alas, I completely failed to take a picture of it. Of course, the only way to really experience it is to be there. The fountain is a sort of abstract mobius that flows up and down the hill on which it rests. It also holds a small, medium-depth pool at the top. "Why," you ask, "does it contain a pool?" Very simply because the fountain is open for public enjoyment. Really. You can take off your shoes and wade your way around it. It was fantastic. I also blame my absolute wonder and enjoyment at wading through the fountain on the fact that I didn't take a picture. haha. Again, what I found interesting was how much of both Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park is manicured. That said, I was delighted to find some "ok, well, we'll let this part grow a bit wild for you" places within the Park. It really is quite an interestingly aesthetic place. (random factoid: Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park together are just about 200 acres smaller than Central Park in NYC.)

After journeying leisurely through the parks (including a brief relax in some beach chairs parked helpfully along the Serpentine), it was on to see Buckingham Palace. Now that's ostentatious. It is an incredibly beautiful structure but in a way that projects power and assurance. It does not inspire one to take the monarchy, or their money, lightly, to say the least. haha. Across from the Buckingham Palace is the Queen Victoria Monument/Victoria Memorial. This is not the only monument to Queen Victoria in England, or even in London, to say the least. Victoria is definitely the most celebrated of any English monarch, for good reason, of course. This monument is the greatest of them all, though. Not only is it very large, it's beautiful as well. From the monument, the Mall extends down through admiralty Arch to Trafalgar Square. As the traffic was pretty brisk, we eschewed walking down the Mall for a walk through St. James's Park. Again, manicured and lovely, St. James's Park did enable me to get a lovely picture of the Whitehall/Parliament St. skyline with added London Eye. We exited the park and cut through the Horse Guards Parade Grounds and then over to Trafalgar Square. The Horse Guards (or more properly the Household Cavalry, made up of by the Life Guards and the Blues and Royals), by the way, are quite impressive. I didn't take a picture because, well, tact. Also, there were already several people making fools of themselves taking each other's pictures whilst trying to make one of guards lose focus. Tacky. At any rate, this is what they look like. They have a saber. They win.

Trafalgar Square is dominated by the neo-Classical facade of the National Gallery. In front of this, stands Nelson's column, a tribute to Vice Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson, the Naval badass whose unorthodox tactics allowed the British fleet to entirely destroy the French and Spanish navies at the Battle of Trafalgar. Four lions sit in guard around his monument, which lend themselves to children wanting to conquer and climb them. haha. Also in the square are four plinths, bearing the following things: George IV, Henry Havelock, Sir Charles James Napier, and a succession of art displays and sculptures. The sculpture gracing the Fourth Plinth when I was there was a beautiful model of Nelson's ship in a bottle. After Trafalgar, we walked down the Victorian Embankment on the Thames to Westminster Bridge, Big Ben, and the Houses of Parliament (also known as the Palace of Westminster). Here is something I never realized: Big Ben is shiny. Ok, I know that sounds like a ridiculous thing to say. haha. What I mean by that is that all the decorative bits are gilded, a thing that somehow I never realized until I saw it in person. The Houses of Parliament to which it is attached reminded me oddly of stalagmites; I suppose that is due to the Gothic Revival design chosen when the buildings were reconstructed in the mid-19th century. Westminster Abbey, around the corner, is a beautiful example of combined Gothic and Gothic Revival architecture. The Abbey is, of course, the most noted and historically important church building in London, as well as the most famous church in England. A meandering walk through Belgravia, (a super wealthy and incredibly lovely section of London, home to many of the ambassadorial homes and offices) an absolutely delicious dinner at a Lebanese restaurant, and a view of Royal Albert Hall and the Albert Memorial at night eventually led back to the hotel for well-earned sleep. Day One accomplished.

Photos of London, Day One

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I arrived at the Oxford station mid afternoon to discover something quite helpful: the YHA is right next to the station! Of course, that meant train noise at night, but by that point of the trip I was pretty resilient when it came to noise at night and open windows. haha. It also meant that finding/getting to the YHA was quite simple. The Oxford YHA was quite nice, as well (though some kitchen items, like the electric kettle, did need some cleaning.). After checking in and getting some necessary banking done to prepare for London, I went out to find the city center and the information office. Oxford is a very busy, very pretty, very college town. I believe I mentioned in the Leicester post how I was surprised at how it didn't feel like a college town. Oxford definitely does. Now, don't get me wrong, it feels very Ivy League, but it is definitely a town dominated by the presence of the university. This is too be expected based on the history of influence and autonomy that Oxford had on the area, its economy, and its politics. At any rate, I wandered about a bit, acquired a map and some pamphlets, found a grocery, and eventually headed back to the hostel in time to make some food, have a cup of tea, and catch the World Cup game. Since the nice television is in the lobby, there were a number of people (quite diverse people, actually) watching the game. Before bed that night, I took out my map of Oxford and plotted the next day's course. My goal, as mentioned in my last journal was to photograph as many of Oxford's colleges as I could. Ambitious, I know.

The next morning, after some breakfast, I headed off. I really did quite well in my goal. Of the 38 colleges, I managed to photograph 22 : Worcester, St. Cross, St. John's, Kent, Wadham, New, Magdalen, Queen's, All Souls, Hertford, University, Oriel, Merton, Brasenose, Lincoln, Exeter, Jesus, Corpus Christi, Christ Church, Penbroke, Trinity, and Balliol. I thought that was pretty good for one day, especially since I also managed the Museum of Oxford and the Ashmolean. :-P My walk through the Oxford colleges was incredible lovely. I felt like such a tourist as I pursued my way through the city taking pictures of a large number of its buildings. Ah well. It was totally worth it. haha. What I found quite interesting was the variety of architecture and facade in Oxford. Granted, the city has been around as a university center for close to 1000 years (yes, you read that correctly--It was already well established as a prominent learning center in England in 1167 when Henry II banned English students from attending the University of Paris.); nevertheless, the architecture does speak to multiple periods of scholastic growth, likely a significant point in Oxford's favor as an institution. That periodic growth allowed Oxford's reputation and clout to solidify with the growth rather than catching up to it. The other thing I noticed favorably was the vast amount of green space there is within Oxford. It's generally good for the psyche for a university to have readily available green spaces. Some of these were well-maintained grass plots, but a couple were honest-to-goodness meadows complete with waist-high long grass. (Brief interlude: in general, English parks are much, much more sculpted and manicured than American ones. I was surprised how happy it made me when I found a park that hadn't had the grass mowed in a while. haha) Amongst the various colleges, there are several buildings of note that I also took the time to photograph, good little tourist that I am. Three of these are in the same block (convenient, to be sure): the Clarendon Building, the Sheldonian Theatre, and the Bodleian Library. Unfortunately, I did not make it into any of these three buildings; however, I do know some interesting tidbits about them. The Clarendon House was the home of Oxford University Press until around 1830. It was also the home to the University police station/jail for several years. Now it is a part of the Bodleian Library. The Sheldonian Theatre is the first building designed by Sir Christopher Wren (later to design the more famous St. Paul Cathedral). It was designed to and continues to be the primary meeting and ceremony venue for the University of Oxford. The final and largest of the three buildings is the Bodleian Library. This library is one of the oldest libraries in Europe, the second largest in Britain, and serves the same purpose as the US Library of Congress: a depository for every book copyrighted in England. Another architectural singularity is in the next block: the Radcliffe Camera. The Camera is the main reading room for the Bodleian Library, holds around 600,000 volumes on its own, and is not open for public viewing. I was sad. I moved on through the colleges to find Magdalen College, most likely known to my readers as the college where C.S. Lewis taught Literature. (He took his degrees at University College, Oxford. Interestingly, he also taught at Magdalen College, Cambridge.)

At some point amongst all this, I found my way to the Museum of Oxford, located in a corner of the Town Hall. This was a really thorough yet not overwhelming look at the life of Oxford. Certainly the University plays a significant role. In fact, I doubt even the history of a university like Harvard and it's relationship to the town would come remotely close to demonstrating this history. The interesting thing is that the city existed for well over 100 years before any part of the University was formally established. Once the University moved beyond the schooling of the abbeys (the Blackfriars being the most famous of those orders prominent in established the scholastic side of Oxford), the students and faculty of the schools were largely autonomous as the University (as all medieval universities were wont to be) was set up as a completely separate governmental entity from the town proper. This led to various and sundry conflicts (the most brutal of which occurred in 1355), and eventually to the loss of student autonomy in University dealings. By the age of the Reformation, most universities were overseen by some form of governing body outside of the University itself. Nevertheless, the power and autonomy seen by Oxford University during the Middle Ages left a lasting impact. Oxford University was built significantly on its charter from the monarchy, it gained power through its high numbers of aristocratic students throughout its history, and continues to wield significant clout via its reputation and heritage of important students. Oxford University has another claim to historical fame: During the English Civil War, Charles I established himself there and from thence directed his campaigns. Eventually, of course, he surrendered and was subsequently booted forcefully from this life. In an odd twist, the Museum of Oxford has a death mask of Oliver Cromwell. It was moderately creepy. Anyway. Since that time, things about Oxford that are famous include Lewis Carroll (we all know who he was), William Morris, the creator of the Morris Motor Company, and Oscar Wilde (also well known to my readers, I'm sure). The YHA had a large collection of posters, etc., noting all the famous people who had attended or lived in/near Oxford. I did not write them all down so that I could pass them on. You'll have to do your own research. :-P

Eventually, I found my way to Oxford Castle Unlocked! which despite it's ridiculous name is a really good tour of Oxford Castle. It's one of the only guided tours I went on during my entire trip, and it was worth it. Oxford Castle was actually a prison for the vast majority of its existence, but the original tower/castle/fort is Saxon in date. Climbing up the tower is an experience as the steps are narrow and not at all uniform. The view, however, is absolutely worth it. If nothing else, touring the Oxford Castle points out how inhumane prisons were for a very long time and how disadvantaged women were in the criminal justice system. The tour also enables you to see a padded room and try on a replica Victorian prison uniform. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Back on the street, I decided to head over to the Ashmolean. A part of the University, the Ashmolean has an astonishingly good collection covering a wide range of eras. I particularly enjoyed their Egyptian and Islamic collections. As often happens, I was a terrible manager of my time, though, and ended up being forced to leave without having seen the upper two floors. Someday I'll manage to divide my time in a museum in a more profitable way. haha. I just lose track of time.... I spent my final night in Oxford double-checking my banking, purchasing my ticket to London, and, of course, watching a World Cup match. :-P I also had the pleasure of watching a group of American 6th graders forge friendships with a group of French 6th graders. The important part of this meeting was that none of the French kids spoke more than a sentence or so of English, and none of the American spoke more French than they had on a handy-dandy conversational print-out that one girl had acquired. It was insanely delightful to watch them. If I could have, I would have filmed it. haha. Finally, I had some tea and retreated to my room. I worked on packing up my stuff while having a lovely conversation with my roommates and then, it was off to sleep. London in the morning!

Fun fact: The Bridge of Sighs in Oxford is patterned after the bridge of the same name in Venice, Italy.

Fun fact number 2: Christ Church college still follows the medieval practice of eating at long tables in a dining hall. Its dining hall was used as Hogwart's dining hall in the Harry Potter films.

Fun fact number 3: The title comes from this Yeates quotation--“I wonder anybody does anything at Oxford but dream and remember, the place is so beautiful. One almost expects the people to sing instead of speaking. It is all . . . like an opera.”

Photos of Oxford

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My journey from Salcombe to Salisbury was quite drawn out. I had to take a bus back north since there is no train to the coast. That was to be expected, though, as I had had to take the bus down. Fortunately, I had done all my route planning prior to arriving since the hostel had no internet access (This was the only hostel where I encountered this. It was not unpleasant, though, just glad I had already written down all the transit times I needed.) As I mentioned in my last blog, travel on Sunday can be quite different than other days of the week--fewer buses and fewer trains. In this case, it meant there are only two bus trips from Salcombe to Exeter: 11.30 am and 5.30 pm. Needless to say, if you miss the first bus, your plans are significantly set back. haha. I, therefore, planned to not miss that bus. After a lovely breakfast with lovely conversation, I gathered my things and headed down for the ferry. I was terribly glad to not have to walk my bags all the way back into Salcombe, Cliff Road or no. The ferry ride was lovely. I arrived in plenty of time to make the bus, so I stopped for some juice, a magazine, and a little pastry-breakfast. Then I headed to the bus stop to wait. I shared the wait with three rather typical (and amusing) middle-school boys. It was entertaining to eavesdrop on them as I read my magazine. (Oddly, the layout and typeset of the UK InStyle is slightly different from the US version.) Now, although I could take the bus just to Totnes and catch a train from there, I would have to wait over an hour at what amounted to a platform. Not really my preference. Therefore, I asked the bus driver if this bus went all the way to Exeter, or if I had to change. He gave me a weird look. But seriously, Sundays are odd; I wasn't sure. He said I could ride all the way to Exeter, so I did. The fare difference about evened out, and I didn't have to wait a long time on a bare platform. The drive was lovely. Again, Devon countryside is beautiful. The roads, however, are thoroughly insane. I'm pretty sure that bus drivers there have to be moderately crazy. Roads are often quite narrow with blind corners and close walls. There were several times I held my breath in suspense at the driving. It's like being in a recklessly driven NYC cab on a roller coaster. Really. At any rate, I arrived at Exeter St. David, grabbed a sandwich and a coffee, and waited for my train. Onward to Salisbury.

I arrived in Salisbury around 4.30. This meant that pretty much everything in the city center was closed. I did walk through on my way to the hostel and was happy to see that the information center had a map posted on the exterior wall. Score! Now I didn't have to rely entirely on the quality of signage Salisbury happened to have. I found the hostel with no trouble at all, though I was humorously chagrined to find that it was at the top of a hill. haha. I got checked in and headed out to find the cathedral. I was quite fortunate in the direction of my approach. As the hostel is on Milford Hill, I approached Salisbury Cathedral from the Queen Street side. Entering from this side sends you walking down North Walk past the lovely Malmesbury House and Sarum College. The upside of this comes when you exit the small street to the astounding close and stunning size of Salisbury Cathedral. Currently, the north face (the one you see from this vantage point) is currently being refurbished, so it is partially covered in scaffolding and missing a number of its stained glass windows. That was quite all right, however, as the cathedral overcomes any scaffolding. The feeling of awe at the size and height of the cathedral is comparable only to the York Minster really. The preservation of the close surrounding the cathedral helps to create just the proper setting for it, as well. I was happy to discover that I had arrived in time to look around for a bit before enjoying the choral evensong. They were doing a session from a series of choral services entitled Fully Alive. It was astonishingly beautiful. Listing to a choir in a cathedral is an experience like none other. No other venue, even a concert hall, can convey quite the tone, the timber, the feeling of music the way a cathedral does. This service was even more special as the bishop was retiring. As he addressed the congregation for the final time, he conveyed through his tone how much he truly cared for them. It was very touching even to me, a stranger. After the service, I continued to explore the cathedral. The cathedral has graves that are over a thousand years old. Salisbury Cathedral is also home to the oldest working clock (1386) and one of the four surviving copies of the Magna Carta (housed in the Chapter House--it was, unfortunately, closed when I arrived, and I was unable to return the next day. :-/) In all, it was an inspiring experience. I then wandered back through town, had some dinner, and wandered back to the hostel. When I got back, I grabbed my book and went to the lounge. Instead of reading, however, I ended up watching several episodes of Desperate Housewives with an Australian girl named Sally and a guy who was reading and commenting on the silliness from the corner. It was a good time. Sally turned out to be sharing my room which was great because she was really nice and was also traveling about by herself. The next morning, we had breakfast and realized that we had both planned to take the 9.30 bus to Stonehenge. We decided to go together. :-) We had a fantastic time riding to Stonehenge, taking far too many pictures of Stonehenge (it was fun having someone else to be slightly touristy with. haha), traveling to Old Sarum, and taking lots of pictures of Old Sarum.

Stonehenge was pretty amazing, I have to say. We arrived earlier than most tour buses arrive, so we missed the bulk of tourist groups. Also, Stonehenge wins points for having a free audio tour. Sally and I had a great time ogling the tall, mysterious stones and listening to the guide. We both also found it very funny that the audio guide clarified the numbers for us each time: "If you would like to hear more about [insert idea], please press forty-four on your audio guide. That's a four and then another four." hahaha. It's not as though it's the guide for non-english speakers. It did make us giggle, though. The tour bus then takes you to Old Sarum. Old Sarum began as an Iron Age earthwork and became a Roman, Saxon, and finally a Norman fortress, castle, and then palace. This is where William the Conqueror convened the nobles/leaders of the regions in order to require their homage in 1086. It was also the site of the first cathedral. The thing about Old Sarum is that not only was it abandoned, the builders of New Sarum (later to become Salisbury) disassembled the structures at Old Sarum in order to use the materials in their buildings. It was really odd to see the ruins because they aren't stone ruins at all. What's left is the remains of the inner core insulation: rather a jumble of mortar and rubble. It was quite interesting. What was also interesting was to see the change from William's use of the high earthwork in order to be fortified and see any advancing enemy to the use of the river valley due to the decrease in vulnerability and the increase in trade. After our exploration of Old Sarum, we returned to the hostel, and I set off for the train station to continue on to Oxford.

And interesting fact I learned on the Stonehenge bus (it had an audio tour): Salisbury, though an important trade town, was spared almost entirely during the Blizt. The reason for this is rather grim, though. It came out later that the Nazi pilots were strictly ordered to avoid damaging the cathedral as its 404ft spire (the tallest in England, by the way) was a landmark for the pilots. They would locate the river via the spire and then follow the river north to bomb other cities.

I have to say that Salisbury, of all the cities I visited, felt the most quaintly historical. By that I mean that it seemed unnatural for there to be cars driving around there. More than anywhere else, for some reason, it felt almost inappropriate that anyone use anything other than horses and buggies. I know that sounds really odd, especially considering other old cities I visited, but there was just something about the feel of this one that made modernities seem very out of place.

At any rate, Oxford was my next destination, and though I had been a little unsure of booking two nights there, it turned out for the best as my trip from Salcombe had meant that I'd had to visit Stonehenge when I would normally be traveling. It was a good thing, though, as it meant I had been able to share my experience with someone else. Goal for Oxford: capture the colleges! Onward!

Photos of Salisbury and Stonehenge

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I left Plymouth greatly looking forward to my two full days in Salcombe. Unfortunately, I was to face unexpected obstacles before finally getting to rest. Getting to Salcombe was a little more involved than my previous trips had been. I began by taking the train from Plymouth to Totnes. From Totnes, I would take a bus to Kingsbridge and then another to Salcombe. The schedule was tight, with only minutes between each change. Fortunately, I caught the bus at the Totnes station right on time. In fact, I had just walked off the stairs and stepped into the parking lot when the bus pulled up. At Kingsbridge, I had about 10 minutes in between arrival and departure which enabled me to take a quick breath and relax...for a minute or two. haha. The bus trips were really quite nice and the scenery very beautiful. Riding through the Devon countryside is a lovely experience.

I arrived at Salcombe around 9.30. I figured that I had plenty of time to make it to the hostel, which was just outside of town and ended check in at 10am. Unfortunately, I made two blunders that caused my arrival at the hostel to occur at 10.30. Firstly, I failed to flag the driver at the earlier stop...the one that was closest to the hostel. Instead, not realizing that it even made that much difference, I rode the bus all the way to the "downtown" stop. Little did I know, this added an entire long, hilly segment (an an entire jaunt through town) to my walk that I could have avoided. The stop where I alit is on the A. The stop where I should probably have alit is on this A. Since the hostel is to the south of this map, you can see the difference it would have made. My second blunder was really due to not familiarizing myself with a map before arriving. Had I done so, I would have avoided this particular mistake. (Before you say anything, yes, I do usually stop first thing at the information office and get a map/ask for directions. In Salcombe, said office doesn't open until 10. Yeesh.) My problem occurred at the split at Bennett and Cliff Roads. The hostel is south of Salcombe at Overbecks. If you zoom out a little you can see the Bennett/Cliff Road junction at the top of the map. You can also see that the hostel is a decent way outside of town. Especially factoring in that I had forced myself to walk unnecessarily through town first.

Now, as you look at these maps I've provided you, you can see how Cliff Road is a nice, reasonably straight, single elevation road from Salcombe to Overbecks. I say "reasonably" because the part of the road from the first beach (North Sands) to the second (South Sands) boasts a rather significant incline. Nevertheless, it is much shorter and much less taxing than the route I ended up taking: Bennett Road to Sandhills Road to Beadon Road. It is important to note here that Bennett Road is entirely an upward inclined road. Sandhills Road is a bit of up, followed by a very steep down. This would usually not be such a problem except that I was already completely exhausted, and I was lugging about 45 lbs. of luggage (suitcase, backpack, bag). Whew. I was a very unhappy little traveler. "So why take the difficult road?" you ask. Here is why: The brown sign you see here pointed me up Bennett Road. You can also get a taste of the incline. haha Here, a bit closer, you can see the little building and acorn leaf that signifies the YHA. Definitely a sign meant for drivers and not pedestrians. By the time I made it to the hostel, I was exhausted, worn out, my legs were wobbly, and I was emotionally spent. I know, I know, I'm displaying my moments of utter wimpiness here. I was further dismayed when I reached North Sands and realized I had to keep walking. I thought I would reach the hostel at the top of the next hill, but no. Then I found South Sands: still no hostel. In my completely spent state, each setback seemed far more frustrating than it would normally have been. When I reached the hostel and found the door locked (it being around 10.30), I definitely sat down on the bench outside the building and started crying. Yes, crying. In public. Not at a movie. O.o Definitely not my most strongly independent moment of the trip. haha. Well, as I sat there sobbing, a middle-aged gentleman in a gardening apron walked by, unlocked the gate, and entered the gardens. This only served to heighten my discouragement. I rather had hoped to be noticed. I was soon to be, though. The gentleman returned a few minutes later and saw me sitting there, realized I was upset, and asked, "Is there some way I can help you?" It is no testament to my strength of person that I almost couldn't get through my tale of bus, town walk, hill walk, luggage and lateness due to the sobbing. It is a tribute to his kindness that he figured out my troubles and immediately said, "Well, let's go around to the back and see if someone is here. We'll get you situated in no time." Sure enough, he talked to the girl who was working, explained the situation, and I was soon sitting in front of a hot cup of tea signing the receipt for check-in. I felt quite embarrassed at my inability to stop crying for a full 10 minutes, but everyone was very kind and understanding. This is when I discovered there was a closer bus stop. I also learned there was a ferry from South Sands into Salcombe if I wanted to avoid trekking back with luggage when I left. This was very heartening news to me. I spent a few hours reading in the lounge (which had a tremendously lovely view, by the way) and relaxing before I ventured out again. The girl (whose name is Kris) checked on me a couple of times to make sure I was doing all right. :-) I'm sure it isn't every day they have to comfort hysterical American girls. hahahaha.

I finally decided to venture into town and see what I could find. What I found was a lovely little seaside town. It rather reminded me of those quaint New England towns featured in Hallmark movies. Once I perused a few shops, however, I realized it was on the Hamptons/Kennebunkport end of the seaside town spectrum than say, Rockport, Mass. By the late afternoon, I had also discovered a splash of the OC seemed to be thrown in. Really it was an amusing place to observe as it was such a odd combination of older couples surrounded by the aura of money and young people trying desperately to be the hip monied. I'm pretty sure that I was the only female jeans shorts in the entire place. Since I was wearing ballet flats, though, I felt like I at least passed muster. haha. Although I really did want to buy something from the absolutely lovely boutiques, I was loathe to spend £30 ($45) on a grey tank top or £85 ($130) on a simple cotton sundress. Really. I did, however, buy a cute reusable shopper to replace the one I'd inadvertently left in the kitchen of the Keswick hostel. I had a lovely late lunch (alliteration!) that I bought at a bakery: lovely warm pizza with a super-thick crust and very nice cheeses and a donut. More on the donut later. Eventually, I bought a few provisions from the grocery and headed back to the hostel. (This trip I took the Cliff Road both ways--much more pleasant than the morning's path.) After stashing my provisions in the kitchen, I went outside and enjoyed the absolutely beautiful weather/sunset by reading on the bench. Just before time for the afternoon check-in session, a pair of ladies, who were obviously distance walking, arrived and sat on the wall near the bench. We had a lovely chat while they waited to check in. They had walked from Land's End--a distance of about 200 miles along the coast. For the life of me, I can't remember where they were stopping, but I recall they had about 50 more miles to cover. Some nights the stayed in hostels, some nights, their tiny tent. They were both far better packers that I am. hahaha. It also ended up that they were sharing my room. :-)

Also sharing the hostel was a group of university students taking a two week intensive. I encountered several of the boys that night as I sat in the lounge reading. Several of them tumbled in to watch a World Cup game and then tumbled out again to proceed to a pub in Salcombe to finish watching it. I didn't meet any of the girls until the next day, but they were all rather fun and interesting, I found. After breakfast (a full English cooked breakfast that was lovely) the next day, I gathered my rather significant pile of clothes that needed washing and headed toward town. Have I mentioned how happy I was to not rush off to a train station? I was so very happy. I found the launderette and was moderately sad to notice that it had a closed sign hanging. Hm. Well, it was just after 10, so I thought it might not open until 10.30. I wandered about a bit until 10.30 and tried again. The closed sign was still up. I was proactive. I took my shorts-wearing self into the candy shop that was attached and asked the slightly punk-ish teenager working there about the launderette. Slightly abashed, he said it was open, apologized profusely for not changing the sign before, and politely gave me change for my note. I then proceeded, chuckling, down the hall to start my laundry. As with all laundromats I have ever been in, the washing machines were great. The dryers, while also great, were based on completely useless time increments: 10 minutes or 25 minutes. Yeah. A shirt will dry in 10 mins. Two shirts and a pair of socks might dry in 25. Ah well. I started the wash load (no color separation for the first time since...ever...haha), set the alarm on my iPod, and headed out to find a juice and a place to read. I found both and enjoyed a lovely half hour overlooking the harbor and reading the book I'd purchased the evening before. (Agnes Grey, if you're interested--the only thing in town I could afford to buy! :-P) When the clothes made it to the dryer, I ended up just sitting on top of one of the washers to read seeing as I had to be around to check and restart (since the first round wasn't going to cut it.) Eventually, they were ready, so I folded and packed them into my handy little shopper and went out to find lunch. I had a cream tea for lunch. The strawberry preserves were oh-so-tasty and the clotted cream was...divine. I know that clotted cream does not sound divine, but trust me, it was. The tea was quite good, too. haha

I took my time walking back to the hostel just to enjoy that absolutely amazing coastal weather. I pondered walking back down to the beach when I was finished, if only to chuckle at the holidayers laying out almost fully dressed on the beach, but decided instead to wander through the Overbecks garden. It was well worth it. The gardens were charming and peaceful; the museum portion of the house was fascinatingly random. (I took a number of pictures in the gardens, fyi.) That evening as I was reading in the lounge it was the girls' turn to tumble in. They were quite a funny and diverse group: from the girl-next-door type to the OC wannabe girl. We hit it off well enough that when they were about to leave to go into Salcombe for the music festival, they asked me to come along. (That's right--tiny town has a music festival every year.) It was a pretty good time. Of course, there was some widespread angst due to the WC tie with the US. (I had no angst. :-P) But soon the fairly decent cover band had everyone singing and enjoying themselves. I even had some local ale. It wasn't exactly what I expected, but it was pretty good. Since I had quite a day of bus riding the next day (travel on Sundays is, indeed, weird; also, if you miss the morning bus, you're stuck until very late in the afternoon.), I decided to go back to the hostel when one of the girls decided to go back rather than to the pub after the festival ended for the night. Let me tell you: it was dark! I was very glad for the flashlight I was carrying in my bag. I also used it to quietly enter the room where a completely new set of walking ladies was already sleeping.

The next morning: shower, breakfast, walk to Salcombe, wait for bus, bus ride to Exeter, and train to Salisbury! It was going to be a full day.

PS: British donuts are not like American donuts. They are like really big versions of the donuts you get at Chinese buffets. Also, they have jam inside. They are delicious. Not like Krispy Kreme delicious, but still delicious.

PPS: Overbecks is half YHA and half part of the National Trust. When Otto Overbeck died, he donated it to the National Trust on two conditions: 1) it obviously bear his name and 2) it be a place accessible to youth.

PPPS: In case you didn't gather from the title, Agatha Christie was a Devon native, born in Torquay about 25 miles up the coast from Salcombe. She set some of her novels in the county. So did Thomas Hardy, he just changed up all the names.

PPPPS: Here are the photos from Salcombe.

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From Bristol, I made my way to Plymouth. I left the train station and passed through the city center on my way to the hostel. Following the signs for "The Hoe" (the section of town where it was located) I soon found the street where it was supposed to be. The problem occurred for me because whoever numbered the streets was...well...insane? Rather than the numbers going uniformly from lower to higher from one end of the street to the other with odds on one side and evens on the other, I discovered (about 25 minutes after I started) that the numbers went up one side of the street and back down the other. And to top it off, they were divided into sections: one section on one side of the park and one on the other. Thus, when I arrived at Citadel road, I started by going to the right. The number for which I was looking was 172. As I walk down the street, I check the numbers and see it going from 166 then a few buildings and 162. Logically, I assume this must mean the higher numbers are on the other side of the park. I turn around and walk back the way I came, continuing on down this side of the road. When I get to the other side, I see the numbers: 201, 202, 203. What on earth? Where on earth is this place? Growing slightly frustrated, I decided to retrace my steps. What else was I going to do? I check the other side of the street as well since I've now decided that logic must have abandoned whoever numbered the street. Sure enough I realize what's been done: the numbers start on the west end of the north side of the road, go up to the park and then continue up the south side of the same section of the road. The portion of the road east of the park is a completely different section of numbers. Because that makes sense. At any rate, I finally found the hostel and rang the bell (the door was electronically locked). Finally, the door was opened, and I was able to drop off my bags and go explore.

Plymouth is a nice, rather charming, port city. It is also home to the Royal Citadel, a longtime coastal defense point for the Royal Navy and now, the Army. I made my way down to the Barbican and stumbled upon the Mayflower Steps. About 10 yards away, I spotted the information center. Fortunately for me (the museum lover), the information center is coupled with the Plymouth Mayflower Exhibition. Since the short video presentation was down that day, I got in for free! I was excited. haha. I was also tired which might explain the excitement. :-P At any rate, it was intriguing to walk through a British museum about the Mayflower. I walked about the Barbican a little, enjoying the view of Plymouth harbor, and then decided to walk around the Citadel via Madeira Road to The Hoe.

The Hoe is a beautiful park right on the waterfront that is the home to Smeaton's Tower, a beautiful 18th century lighthouse. It is also home to the Tinside Lido. The Lido was opened almost a century ago as an open-sea bathing center. The pool then was filled via pumps with fresh sea-water that was routinely exchanged. In the late 20th century, it was closed after being neglected for years. The citizens of Plymouth mounted a campaign to refurbish and reopen the Lido, now a maintained pool. It's really quite beautiul. I continued around the coast, discovered some truly lovely houses and scenery, and even a small park the had been built in an old mine quarry. Eventually, I made my way down back through the city center, stopping for some food and finding the city museum and library...just too late to go in. :-P I found something just as interesting, though: Charles Church. Now, Charles Church is no longer a functioning church. After being bombed in WWII, it was left as a monument to those who died. It now sits in the center of Charles Cross Roundabout. Not content to take pictures of it from the sidewalk opposite, I did, in fact, cross the three lane roundabout at quarter to 6pm. I did run. haha. Just after I ran back across the street, I realized that the Devon and Cornwall constabulary building was just across the street with a couple of constables waiting to cross the street. Momentarily, I wondered whether running across a roundabout was precisely a legal thing to do, but they didn't say a word when the passed me. I'm pretty sure I would've been jaywalking in every major US city. hahaha. At any rate, I found some dinner (The Blues bar and Grill has nice drinks and makes a good chili) and returned to the hostel to relax, take advantage of free wi-fi, and sleep. I fell asleep pleasantly looking forward to my two days of rest in Salcombe.

Photos from Plymouth

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