We had a fairly uneventful day today. Ann had a friend pop over for a little bit so we were able to meet her and her granddaughter which was nice and after this head off into the heart of Bristol to see the exhibition on Anne Frank, the young Jewish girl who was confined to living in an attic with 7 others during the Nazi reign of terror. It was a great exhibition, one that evoked a range of feelings from laughter (Anne Frank had a cheeky sense of humor) to complete hatred for Hitler and how the hell could he lead such a disgusting, revolting war that people actually got behind and supported. What really struck me was the maturity and wisdom that Anne Frank possessed at such a tender age and what a clear and concise communicator she was. An amazing young girl and as sad as it is that her life ended in such horrible circumstances her diaries and writings made such an impact on the rest of world to come. It was a great little exhibition and one that made me come out of it wondering to myself “what am I doing? What can I do to help others in need?” Makes you realize how truly blessed we are to live in such a free and liberated country like Australia.

We moved onto the post office then where we hoped to post home some stuff that we’d collected along our travels, just various things, some small souvenirs, pamphlets etc, not much really. We picked out a box and waited in line to post this… and when we were finally seen too and told the price we almost keeled over! 59 pounds!! ($118) We told them that was an absolute rip off and how the hell could they charge that amount when to post 5 kilos of goods Aus to UK is only $50, and yet to post JUST over 2 kilos UK to Aus would cost more?! We weren’t very happy and we made it perfectly clear. It was suggested to us that we break it down into 2 kilo packs as it would be cheaper, so we did this but it was only minimally cheaper. It’s such a bloody rip off. No wonder everyone in the UK seems to be a bloody workaholic, they have to be in order to survive and afford the basics!

We offered to cook dinner tonight and as it was such a grey, cold, dull day we decided that a good hearty stew and dumplings was in order so this took up the rest of the afternoon, along with the rice pudding (I finally found a rice pudding recipe that I’ve been looking for, I was very excited)

So that was the day, nothing too special but a nice one all the same.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY:

Chris says “Invisible, silent karaoke performed from an IPod via headphones is not something to be shared with an audience, thanks Em”

Ems’ response to this is “hmph”

written by  Chris and Emily on May 15, 2009 from Bristol, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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This forest has an eerie feeling to it, as if something or someone is watching you and that it’s hiding something. It’s a rather odd feeling. We took a 20 minute walk to the ‘Major Oak’ to stretch our legs which was nice. It’s a massive old Oak Tree that is 1150 years old and is now having its branches propped up by scaffolds. In the day the Major Oak use to be called the “Cockpen Tree” as the inside of it is hollow they use to keep bags of roosters in the inside of the tree (or tied to the branches of it) and would bring them out for the illegal cock fights that use to happen. You can feel the history of this place and you can’t help but feel that the woods are hiding something.

We didn’t have long to stay, we’d already been driving 4 hours and had another 3 or so to go, so we hit the road. Apart from another ‘comfort stop’ or two we made our way back to Sue and Patrick’s and it was lovely to see them again, felt like we’d been away for weeks, not days! Quick dinner and then a well earned nights rest!

written by  Chris and Emily on May 11, 2009 from Nottingham, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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The weather once more was looking grey but we’ve not come to expect much more and just embrace the wet. We stopped at Lake Windermere once more for another quick look around the river before heading off to Ulleswater where we were catching a steam boat half way up the river, jumping off and then taking the 8 mile walk back to the car. That was the plan anyhow. When we got there though we decided that, as I wasn’t up too such a walk today (very tired today and sloth like) I would take a return trip on the steam boat up and down the river and meet Chris back at the car after he had jumped off and walked back. So, we took a half hour ride up the river together before Chris jumped off (not literally, they let him off on the gang plank, they didn’t make him jump) at a place called Howtown and I continued on slowly up the river taking the landscape in. It was lovely and slow and I went mad taking photos. We got to the end of the river and the heavens opened and the rain and cold just howled in!! I now fretted for poor Chris thinking “oh god, he still has to walk 1.5 hours… he’s going to be freezing and drenched! The poor man!!” Knowing that he had his mobile on him I attempted to call him and suggest he turn back to Howtown where the boat would once more be stopping on the way back but there was no answer. It was completely torrential. It was bucketing like I’ve never seen before. Then Chris rang, it wasn’t raining where he was, which was only 5 miles away. It was bizarre! So, I continued on my steam boat ride and Chris continued on his walk (ringing me at one stage to ask if I could see him as he could see the boat and was waving at us, I couldn’t despite my vast amount of squinting) I made it back to the car about half an hour before Chris and then decided I’d best get some form of exercise for the day and walked out to meet him in his last km or so and walked back with him where he told me of the beauty he’d seen, but sadly not spotted any red squirrels.

We made our way back to the B&B for our last night with Barbara and shared another meal with her a glass of wine or two. We had another lovely night of chatting and laughing before another amazing nights sleep.

written by  Chris and Emily on May 10, 2009 from Sedbergh, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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Windermere is a larger sized village which is situated on the Windermere Lake, which is quite pretty but very busy. We stopped here for a short time before moving onto Hill Top where it was pouring with rain. We ran into the cottage and were greeted with a lovely warm fire that was crackling away in Beatrix’s old fire place. The house is small and cozy and everything that you see is exactly as it was left, apart from the carpets and curtains. It’s a sweet little home and it was the scene for Beatrix’s book “Samuel Whiskers” The illustrations in the book are taken from her house, as if she used the rooms as still lives.
The gardens all look exactly like Mr. McGregor’s garden from Peter Rabbit, a watering can at the end of the vegetable garden and a lovely gate at the head of it; you can’t help but look for Peter in there!

We took a few pics before heading off as the rain was setting in, we had thought we’d go and try for a small walk, but seeing as it was foggy and wet we decided that it was probably for the best if we left for today and instead head off to see the new X men movie in Kendall. We went to a place called the Brewery, which was obviously once a Brewery that has now been converted into an amazing arts center. There are 2 cinema screens, a large theatre, an amphitheatre, has a large outdoor seating area, a café, a restaurant, just an amazing artistic, creative place to be. So many different forms of art and theatre can be presented here, which is lovely.

We made our way back to the B&B where Barbara had supper left over’s for us for dinner, which is so lovely of her, we hadn’t asked or expected to have this waiting for us, but oh my gosh, it was lovely!! We think Barbara deserves to have a Michelin star; her food was so amazing and yummy! Barbara really is a Jill of all trades. She cooks, runs, and is the handy woman to the B&B and is always so warm and lovely and ready for a chat even though she could do with a bloody good break! A lovely woman!

written by  Chris and Emily on May 9, 2009 from Sedbergh, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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The drive to the Lake District was uneventful thankfully, fairly easy to navigate and not such bad roads for Chris to drive. As we drove out of Snowdonia we had a large spy plane fly low over the top of us, which was impressive to see. We’ve been able to see a good deal or impressive military aircraft in the past 3 days and it’s been interesting to watch.

We attempted to negotiate our way to Manchester so that we could stop and pick up a GPS holder for the car as we’d managed to break the previous one, oops, but it all became quite confusing so we travelled onto another large town nearby and picked one up for a reasonable price before heading off again.

We arrived at St Marks, a beautiful B&B which was to be our ‘home’ for the next 3 days not long after. This B&B is absolutely beautiful. Barbara the owner is gorgeous and you at once feel at home and welcome. We had a beautiful large room and it was just so incredibly cozy, and the bed… ahhhhh, the bed, it was so wonderful! I just wanted to snuggle down and sleep there forever!!

The B&B was full up for the next few nights as there was a lovely group of Quilters staying as well. These 7 ladies get together every year in May for a week and quilt. It’s a lovely idea and they make some amazing and beautiful works of art while away. The ladies were all very nice and we felt at home with them as we chatted with them over various things and of our plans etc.

As they went off to have their dinner in the dining room Chris and I head 3 miles down the road to the pub “the fat lamb” which I kept calling “the fat cow” accidently. They served nice meals, but what we really enjoyed was the elderly gentleman who sat at the bar “talking” to his mate. I use the word talking loosely as we know he was communicating but he had one of those accents that you can not understand as its all mumbles and grunts and then a few chuckles. He really made us giggle and it was very cute. He was very pleasant though and we know that he said ‘good evening’ to us which we reciprocated.

After our nice meal and evening entertainment we head back to our wonderful, warm and inviting B&B, had a good chat to Barbara who with all her knowledge and understanding helped to plan our next few days before falling into the most comfortable beds we’ve ever, and I mean ever, had the pleasure to sleep in.

written by  Chris and Emily on May 8, 2009 from Llanberis, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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During our previous days travel around the village yesterday Chris and I had stopped at a visitor centre and picked up information on some of the nice ‘3 hour’ walks that were around the region. We had decided against doing the ‘extreme hiking enthusiast’ walk that we had first looked at and instead thought that a 3 hour walk would make for a nice day. So, off we went today, armed with the very informative pamphlet, complete with big write up and directions and a map. We felt ready and prepared as we pulled into the car park and hoist our little day pack containing our rain jackets, lunch, water, beanies, spare socks, sun cream and other goodies onto Chris’ back. We head off following the directions perfectly “cross the dangerous road to the church, go over the stile and walk through the field” Perfect, easy, done. “At the next stile continue on through the field to the next stile” Done again “continue on, you will come to a little wooden bridge, here take the left hand path” Righto, done. “You will come to an open moor, here you have fantastic views of Mt Snowdon and Mt somethingarather” (Okay, it’s not really Mt somethingarather, though it’d be kind of funny if it was. I just don’t know what the other Mt name was… Moses, Mosaic, somethinglikethat) Okay, done. So far it was all going smoothly, we were following the directions perfectly and it was all lovely. The views were amazing, the weather nice, our moods jolly… But then, something went wrong, very very wrong.

I don’t like to place ‘blame’ but somewhere along the line, someone got something incorrect in a major way. I’m not sure if it was the mad welsh man who drew the map and the ‘directions’, the Englishman who then had to translate them into something readable and sensible to the rest of the population, the proof reader or the person who had to print them off, but poor old Chris got all the blame that day. We came to a path that forked, the left hand side looked rather beaten, boot and Mt bike tyer marks all over it and the right hand side of the path looked a bit soggy and therefore, less ‘taken’ shall we say? So, which path do you suppose we went? Yes, the right, of course the right, the directions was clear in stating the right. So, off we went. My mood by now was still jolly, though a little tentative I admit. I had my gaiters, boots and walking trousers on, but I’m still a girl and not a big fan of the muddy, soggy mires that stretched ahead of us. But, off we trooped. We got higher and higher on this hill, it became chilly and my god did it ever become bloody bloody windy! It was like walking smack bang into a freaking cyclone. It was scary, you couldn’t hear anything other than this shrill shriek of the wind, I could see that Chris was trying to talk to me but I couldn’t hear him unless he came up and then yelled into my ear. My nose ran like mad and I had to hold onto my brand new, Marino wool beanie for life. The wind pushed and pulled us about but we struggled on until we came to a spot where the wind died down and we were slightly sheltered. Here we had a beautiful view of a lake spread before us. It was gorgeous to look at and we would have loved to have sat down for lunch and a rest, but the wind made it cold and impossible to stop for too long.

So on we trudged, but now something was telling me we were heading in the wrong direction and my tummy was turning in knots and I knew that something was not right. I don’t know how I knew, or why, but I just did. The map directions then became rather unclear and confusing, we’d followed the other notes and directions perfectly, to the tee, yet now, it was a real “WTF” moment. Now we were reading directions that said “now, the lake will be passing on your right, you will come to another stile, follow this through another field, you will come to another stile” etc and there were none of these too be seen as far as the eye could see. Chris, appearing all jolly and ‘adventurous’ encouraged me to keep on walking, yet I tried to say time and time again “no, it’s the wrong way, we’re not going the right way, something is wrong here” but, I kept being told “oh, I’m sure it’ll all pick up” We walked on, yet I began to stress, the stress turned to panic, the panic turned to hyperventilating and then tears and a little ‘break down’ We were no longer anywhere near where we were meant to be, we were no longer on the map and we no longer could make sense from the freaking map, it made no sense what so ever. It was horrible. We were now walking down the middle of little streams as it was wetter on the soggy, boggy moors, we were walking through some little forest, we were walking down extremely little narrow paths that I’m not convinced were for humans. We had to jump down large embankments where I hit my head more than once on silly tree branches, all the time having my panic attack. We were so far from where we’d first come now and by now we should have been returning to where we’d left the car, we’d been walking almost 2.5 hours or more… Then we saw it, a little road where there were some little, derelict stone homes which looked as if they could have possibly still been in use… and then I saw a man in red. Oh, it was a happy moment. Chris suggested we stick to the path, I shook this advice off and made a very fast descent towards the road, tripping and near tumbling down the embankment in the process. By the time we got to the road though we’d missed the man in red who was taking photos, but I didn’t care, we were near civilization, albeit very very remote, slightly run down, not so convinced the homes were even in use, civilization. We walked along the road and by now Chris was admitting that we had somehow, come off the map and wasn’t 100% sure where we were, but would not admit that we were lost. He had the GPS out, looking confused and was suggesting that we get back on the track and head off in a direction that I wasn’t convinced with at all. With his suggestion I became very annoyed and I didn’t say very many nice things, and being someone with a very stubborn streak made a point of storming off, yelling not such choice words over my shoulder, in the other direction along the road telling Chris I was going to find someone who could tell us exactly where the hell we were and that I couldn’t understand why no man could stop and ask for directions.

We came across an elderly couple who we stopped and had a chat too. They confirmed my suspicions of “well no dear, you’re no where near these directions” “REALLY!? You don’t say!” Screamed the thoughts in my head, but I smiled and asked if they knew how we pick our track up again and we were told “well, you keep walking until you get to a gate, then go over this and go through the field, and then it’ll take you through a valley in the mountains, but that’s what we’ve been told, we’ve not done it ourselves” I didn’t really want to hear this, I wanted to hear something really factual, meet someone who had walked this track and could tell us for sure how to get back, not give us some sort of “hearsay” myth. So, I made a pact with God that I would ask the next person we saw and believe them, not doubt, so long as He could actually send someone along this deserted road. Well, God heard and sent an elder gentleman along the way, and so I kept to my side of the bargain and asked, ready to believe, this man if he knew the way home. This man answered my question, but spoke in riddles. God had sent me the mad hatter for a laugh. I wasn’t so impressed, but I was ready to believe… so, I asked if he were from around here, to which he gave us some riddle and then went onto tell us how he once visited Tasmania, had crashed someone’s engagement party, driven to Ooze etc etc. My head was screaming “PLEASE JUST TELL ME THE BLOODY WAY AND SHUT UP!” but I smiled and wade through his riddles to figure out that he too was telling us to go to the gate, follow the path, head up through the field, up towards the valley, travel on through it and then we should get a clear view of Capel Curig, the place we’d started from. Right.

So, we bid the mad hatter good bye and head off to the gate, up the path, through the field with sheep and horses, up a very very steep bloody mountain (not impressed at all let me tell you!!) through the valley only to come… back to the freaking soggy boggy moors. Hmph. Not happy, not happy at all!! So, we then had to back track our previous steps, which weren’t sooooo bad as at least we knew where we were going, but by this time the wind had picked up 10 fold from previously and I was now being blown over as I walked. For once I was glad to be above average in the weight department, any lighter and I’m fairly sure that I’d have been blown a distance. I’ve never in all my life come across wind strength like that, it was actually scary! So, we walked back towards the point at which we had actually started, and along the way had several fighter jets fly low over the top of us, this happened at least 3 times. For a moment there I thought the mad hatter might have sent us off on a hike across private military land where they do testing’s or some such thing and that perhaps they’d be testing there guns or missiles or something and then I freaked myself out and had to tell myself I was being just a tad silly now and that my imagination was perhaps going just a little overboard. We them made it back to the field in which we first crossed and the church and I had never been so relieved! I could breathe finally and relax. Chris will tell you that we weren’t lost, and perhaps he’s right to a degree. He’ll tell you we couldn’t have possibly been lost as he had the GPS and knew our exact co ordinates, but my argument was (and still is) that the co ordinates were no good to us really as A) we didn’t know the co ordinates of which we’d come and B) they couldn’t give us the names of the mountains, rivers, lakes, moors or towns that were around us. If we had to (somehow) call the police (999 for the record) we wouldn’t be able to tell them where we were exactly, but yes, we could give them the co ordinates. What was meant to be a 3 hour stroll turned into a 5 hour struggle and I’m surprised, yet glad to announce, that we were still married at the end of this ‘adventure’ Poor Chris did cope an earful of not so nice words and did cope the blame, though it wasn’t his fault, it was the map makers. It wouldn’t take much effort to tack a cats eye to a stump or something every mile or so just to let you know that you’re on the right path, but the Welsh don’t seem to think that this is very important. Oh well, I guess we made it back okay in the end, and I was mighty glad to make it back to the car where it was nice and warm and out of the bloody wind!

Oh, and once we were back to the car a Chinook helicopter flew over us. The military were well and truly out doing some sort of training that day, it was crazy busy with jets and helicopters!

written by  Chris and Emily on May 7, 2009 from Llanberis, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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We drove on and discovered more of the place and the little villages around us, I’m not sure of all of their names as they were all written in Welsh and just a tad difficult to pronounce. We came across a slate mine and a random old castle, a lovely little river where we stopped for lunch and of course, we came across a Tesco. You can’t go anywhere in the UK without seeing a Tesco, it’s mad.

It was a lovely day full of little surprises and discoveries and it was really nice to just be able to do all this at our own leisure. We stopped in Betws-y-coed (the only Welsh village I remember how to spell and pronounce!!) and brought a few groceries for the next few days of cooking. While here a very amusing incident happened (again for me and not for Chris) Poor guy, it would seem I’m always laughing at him and not with him… Anyhow, I have to share it as it was rather hilarious and even now as I remember it I giggle to myself and can’t wipe the smile off my face. We had just picked up our groceries and were attempting to cross the road of this little village, they love there tiny little roads here with there blind crests and hills and it makes both driving and crossing the road very difficult at times. We were crossing at the best and safest spot we could find, but it was still a little dodgy. Anyhow, we began to cross the road when there was this god almighty noise like rushing wind and like it was travelling incredibly fast, a noise like you’ve never heard before. Anyhow, it also caused a lot of confusion for us as we didn’t know where this noise was coming from or what it was. Chris who had half crossed the road suddenly took off running across the rest of the road and when he got to the other side, ducked, slightly covering his head and looked up. I on the other hand had not yet crossed the road, admittedly, became quite confused but realized the noise was coming from above and was not an incredibly fast on coming, out of control truck like I had first imagined. We looked up and were shocked to see, flying incredibly low and just over the tops of the shops and homes surrounding us, two fighter jets. They were incredibly fast, incredibly loud, and I have to say, rather awesome to see in action. Chris’ reaction made me laugh until I cried though, the way he just took off, leaving me wondering what the hell was going on, him ducking, covering his head. It was all very very funny. It did make me question him though, as he didn’t even look back for me, such bravery. The noise that these jets create though is enormous and as we hadn’t heard them before, or even knew that these jets existed in this area, it was all very confusing and I admit, overwhelming. I’m just glad Chris didn’t drop the groceries he was carrying at the time, he had the eggs and the jars of tomatoe sauce, at least he made sure they were okay! 

written by  Chris and Emily on May 6, 2009 from Llanberis, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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