Greetings from across the Pond!  Spent 10 days exploring the South and West of England. I departed day 2 of what was to become the largest fire in Los Angeles’s history…

There are 3 themes running through this travel blog: food, family/friends and green countryside. Food, well that’s easy! We never missed a meal. Family & Friends? We stayed with both and had a blast! Green? The mountains and hills of LA are brown. We’re in a water-rationing situation AND haven’t seen rain since April I think. So yes, green countryside.

Day 1 - Travel is always glamorous, right? Not so much these days as I think most of us can attest to…Easy flight though Chicago and the connection consisted of walking over 3 gates. Amazing! No hiking through O’Hare! Got off the plane, took a walk, people watched and about 1.5 hours later, got onto the next plane to head over the Pond.

The girl next to me was from Dublin, Ireland and was traveling with 5 friends from University there - returning home from living in San Francisco on a work/study exchange program. She disagreed that there’s nowhere colder in the summer than San Fran - Dublin! I had to give her that one.

The bummer about being in coach on a transoceanic flight besides, well being in coach, is the smell of good food wafting through the cabin - then your meal arrives on a plastic tray with plastic cutlery and it’s not even close to resembling what you KNOW others are having for their meal (up front)…the second bummer is when you smell baking cookies but get none. The third - breakfast before landing and - you guessed it - while the folks up in the front are having lovely warm croissants and such, we get handed a plastic wrapped COLD hard roll and gross yogurt. Oh and by the way? United charges for cocktails in coach as well.

Got off the plane at Heathrow and did the hike through Terminal 1 for about a good mile to get to Immigration. You know, the US immigration folks doing the same job could learn A LOT about being friendly and welcoming to foreigners. A LOT. Discovered mom (aka Denyse) was coming in at Terminal 3 but knew our flights were landing an hour apart, so no worries, at least that was my thought…

It’s NEVER a good sign when you go down to collect your luggage and there’s a guy with a clipboard who walks over and greets you immediately with, “What’s your name?” When you give it, hands you a piece of paper and says, “see my colleague over there behind the counter? Please go speak with her - your luggage did not make the plane.”

Worry 1: Where the heck is my luggage? Timbuktu?
Worry 2: How is my luggage going to get out of customs?
Worry 3: How is my luggage going to meet me in Bristol or Ilsington, Devon?

Well the nice lady from United Baggage asked some questions and informs me that my luggage is in fact on another flight from Chicago and will be arriving in about 3 hours, that I don’t have to wait, please sign this form for them to clear my luggage thru Customs and assures me that it will catch up to me in Bristol later that afternoon. PROMISE. I exit customs hopeful that what I’ve been told is true. Not so much.

Hiked over to Terminal 3 with my carry-on stuff, grabbed a coffee and greeted Mom with, “Hey MOM! OVER HERE! Welcome to London!” We navigated over to the express train and headed to Paddington (the best and fastest way to get to central London).

The train ride out to Bristol was uneventful but beautiful. There were a bunch of highly entertaining kids going to the Reading Music Festival,but they got off at the first stop. Got picked up by mom’s favorite cousins, Audrey and Arnold Greenwood. Food, sleep, conversations, laughter, more food, and still more sleep followed for the first day in the UK.

Even received a phone call from United around 1pm letting me know my luggage would be delivered between 9-10pm to the Greenwood’s house that evening. Wrong! Long story short, the luggage delivery company who’s call center is located in Latvia (of all places - just when we were all getting used to Indian accents, now it’s time to adapt to Latvian accents...) said that my luggage wouldn’t make it to Bristol until the following day. They also keep you on hold for at least 20 minutes anytime you call for assistance and only work from 10am-2pm with 2 hours off for lunch…

Thank goodness at the Greenwoods BB&D (bed, breakfast & dinner!) they have a washer & dryer at the house.

Next morning discovered (after 4 phone calls) that my luggage was in Bristol, had in fact been delivered to the depot the night before. Not trusting the service to get the luggage to me anytime soon, we went to pick it up,

Devon is located about 1.5 hours southwest of Bristol. Beautiful country. Dartmoor, the largest national park is located there. Due to my wrong directions (don’t ask) we took a slight detour on the way but ended up in a very quaint town called Newton Abbot. Found a pub and had a great Ploughman’s lunch (for those of you not “in the know”, it’s fresh bread, cheese (or meat), coleslaw, chutney, and salad). YUM. Had a Jack Rabbit Chardonnay from CA (one I’d never heard of…) then went to find our hotel in a village called Ilsington.

The Ilsington Country House Hotel is located in the middle of the Dartmoor National Park - reached by 2 lane roads (one track) that sometimes become one lane (1/2 track) going both ways (really fun when cars are coming at you FAST) - and the area is stunning. Green, tons of trees, meadows, and sheep, horses and cattle grazing on hillsides. Quaint OLD farmhouses, cottages and barns dot the landscape. You can tell they are OLD - middle ages anyone? I wish those buildings could talk!

Arnold’s barber, as it turns out, has stayed at our hotel twice with a group he belongs to called The Portishead Onion Club.Portishead is a town near Bristol and the gentlemen in this club hold an annual contest to see who can grow the biggest onion and actually hold a weigh-in (at the bar, naturally)! They even have their own proprietary ties and pins as all proper clubs should. Their wives are called the Shallots (really - it’s far too good to make this stuff up!).

Anyway - after checking in Arnold tells the hotel staff that that the Portishead Onion Club send their regards and they start telling us stories about how huge the onions were and how they really hold the weighs-in at the Bar. We were in hysterics!

Mom, aka, Denyse, was born in England and immigrated to the States after WWII. She has her list of “soul foods” that have to be had when she goes back to the UK - ploughman’s lunch, treacle tart, sticky toffee pudding, kippers (the saltiest thing I’ve EVER tasted), fried place (a white fish), roast tomatoes, and lamb. We had successfully begun the quest to finish the list from beginning to end.

Arnold’s barber also recommended the ONLY pub in Ilsington, The Carpenters Arms, built in the 1600’s. We could have walked, but it was all UPHILL for the way back, so drive we did. (Isn’t how amazing it is that we’ll hike uphill for dinner, but not want to hike uphill afterwards?)
Dinner was really, really yummy. I had a chicken and leak pudding. (Pudding in England is like having a chicken pot pie without the flaky crust - can be very heavy if not done right.) Dessert was even better. Fresh berry cobbler. YUM (oh wait - I said that already, but it was!)

The next morning after breakfast, we decided to take a hike in the moor. The septuagenarians and I drove up the road to Haytor Rock(a 1500 foot climb STRAIGHT uphill). This is one the highest areas around for miles and they’ve found signs of civilization as far back as the Iron Age. There’s nothing left up there now but some great rock formations and phenomenal views.

As the 4 of us began our hike up the hill, the first thing I noticed was how spongy the ground was beneath us - super fun to walk on! It’s peat. Peat is green vegetation (like grass clipped really short) with years and years of older dead vegetation below it. It’s kept short by grazing animals (see below). The hillsides were covered with two kinds of purple heather and yellow gorse - as picturesque as described in all the books involving “moors”…

The other thing we noticed were a few Dartmoor ponies (with their babies!) and some cows grazing around the area. There are no fences and they are unafraid of people or vehicles. Apparently these animals have been a part of the ecosystem for centuries and their owners round them up in the fall. The horses are not branded, but the cattle are tagged and sheep are marked with colors on their coats.

So we hiked up the HILL. It was further and steeper than we realized - quite the workout. After getting to the top, the views were stunning - you could see for miles - all the way to the ocean! The sun was out and shining brightly - glad I remembered my sunglasses! We took a less difficult way down - through a small herd of cows and returned to the car, feeling like we’d had a serious workout and decided to drive through the park for awhile before making the drive down to Torquay (part of the British Riviera).
   

Best sign we saw the whole trip was during our drive: “Watch for Sheep Resting on the Road”. Unfortunately, missed that photo op. The history in this region just boggles the mind. You pass by farmhouses that have to be from the 1500’s - quite a bit older than the missions in California! After our 30-minute journey reached the 2-hour mark, we returned back to the hotel to pick up some supplies and headed out.

On the drive to Torquay, we realized it was getting late for lunch. (Most places stop serving lunch between 2 and 2:30pm). The original plan was to eat lunch down by the ocean. Hitting some traffic changed the plan and we found ourselves at a lovely pub in Coffinswell by following a sign that said food with an arrow off the highway. That’s right. Coffinswell. It was a teeny, tiny town accessed by a one-lane road with nice big houses, many of which were for sale. We didn’t inquire why. After all, if a town is called Coffinswell, do you really want to know? The name refers to a family that lived in the town and discovered a water source - a well. I’m not so sure I believe THAT…but back to the story…

The Linney, (that’s the Pub’s name) has parts of the building that date back to the 1400’s. Had some lovely Chilean chardonnay there along with a phenomenal shrimp, avocado and smoked salmon salad. We all thoroughly enjoyed our meals.  If you’re ever on the way to the English Riviera, make sure to stop there for a bite. In the daylight.

Years ago, Londoners would head down to Torquay for the upscale, posh environment by the sea. Mom had some old memories of visiting there as a child and really wanted to see it again. In fact, we almost stayed there but the rates were pretty high, reviews of hotels with vacancies were fairly low, and Monday the 31st of August was a Bank Holiday in England.

Unfortunately, Torquay as fallen far from where it was and is now dilapidated, crowded and overgrown. We parked and took a brief walk by the water before deciding that Dartmoor was more our style and headed inland. Audrey summed it up best - describing it as filled with “fish and chips” people…I saw one cool store along the way…

When we got back to our hotel, there was some discussion of playing croquet on the front lawn, but naps sounded better, so … naptime it was. Dinner was back at the Carpenter’s Arms (also the only restaurant in town) for another fine meal. People were really friendly (duh - it’s a PUB).

I’m going to digress for a couple of minutes and discuss what a British PUB is. It’s not what Puritan America thinks of as just a bar. It is a place that serves drinks and food at specific times. Sometimes it’s affiliated with a specific brewery, sometimes not (called a Free License). It’s a place that the community gathers on a regular basis - where fundraisers, celebrations and wakes are held. It’s considered perfectly acceptable to bring your kids in with you and have a drink. Some, like The Linney, have a separate dining room for people with kids, and some, like Carpenter’s Arms don’t. People are friendly, open and ready for a conversation or information about the region. Pubs are fun.

The next morning was cloudy, damp and cold. It was a misty moor!!! We were so happy to have had a nice day prior. To be honest, it felt like a winter’s day in LA…although all day long I saw people strolling around in shorts and t-shirts looking at me in my sweater and coat like I was the weirdo…

We took a last drive through a different part of the park and bid farewell to Devon - with one stop first: Powderham Castle. This castle, nestled on the bank of the Exe River, sits on 3500 acres of gorgeous land. It was used for the movie Remains of the Day. It’s been in the same family for over 600 years and they are on their 18th successive Duke. (One of the dukes pissed off Henry the 8th and he demoted them to Viscount - and didn’t get the Duke title restored for a couple hundred years.) The 19th Duke lives in California married a yank and is a lawyer but intends to return to the castle one day. He and his wife just had a boy a week ago, so the 21st Duke is already lined up. (Added note, apparently my brother Andy and his wife Paula know the wife...)

The castle is run by the current Duke and is open 6 months out of the year. Part of how they support the upkeep on such a huge place is by letting the tourists in, rent the place out for corporate events and weddings and also has a functioning farm. In fact, a wedding had been held the night before and they were still cleaning up after it…(although if you read the link above from Wikipedia, apparently their license to hold ceremonies was revoked since they wouldn't allow gay civil ceremonies on the property...)

We toured 1/2 the castle with a guide who was phenomenal. Full of lots of interesting information and stories about the family, the castle, the contents, the paintings - you get the picture!  If you are ever in Devon - make the journey to the Castle. It’s amazing.

After the castle we headed to Honiton, formerly the capital of lace making and all things lace. I say formerly because the only thing associated with lace that’s left is a lace museum, which like most museums, monuments and stores are closed Sundays. It was a bummer to find out that there was no lace to be had, but we had a great lunch AND Tracey (Audrey & Arnold’s daughter,) her husband Stuart and son Daniel came and met us for lunch. I hadn’t seen them since their wedding 7 years ago. Wow! How time flies!

We returned to Bristol where Audrey allowed me to cook dinner (Roast Chicken) and had our last restful chill out night.

England 2009 Blog Part 2