Home Again. . . .Almost

Just landed in Newark, NJ about 11:30 a.m. after a 6 hour flight from Shannon, Ireland.  It was sooooo much better than the trip over because we actually got the Economy Plus seats we paid extra for (to get more legroom).   And, I got to watch both "American Hustle" and "Gravity", both terrific movies.  Started watching "Anchorman 2" and found it just like the first one, a collection of skits patched together that didn't do much for me. 

Said goodbye to the kids and now sitting for 3 1/2 hours or so while we wait for our Columbus connection  to get us in about 5:30 p.m.  I thought this might be a good time to reflect (briefly for those who actually read this far) about what this trip was like for us . . . in no particular order of priority of course!

First, it was great to be with friends - Ray and Mary Lee, and
Connie Melton - and family - Aaron, Melissa, Chloe, Jeff, Leigh, and briefly niece Becky and husband Stewart.  The group got along famously from the moment we left until we touched down, and I fulfilled my promise of doing something special for the family in the year of my 25th. anniversary to Cheryl. 

Hopefully it created some lifelong memories for everyone - I know it did for me.   We've now been to China, Egypt, Russia, and now England and Ireland with Ray and Mary Lee, and we intend to keep adding to the list.

Second, seeing Jenny happy and getting married was pretty darned wonderful, too.  We got to see Anthony on his home turf, and meet his wonderful parents and extended family.   They all made us feel at home and offered such warm hospitality that I meant what I said as my father's toast - the Americans (at least those of us on this trip), truly love the Brits.   And, a huge thanks, in particular, to the wonderful Simon and Maggie Bath.   We can't wait to show you our little slice of Americana sometime soon.

Third, the Beatles.   Nothing more needs to be said.   To see and touch the DNA of their lives in Liverpool meant the world to me.   I can distinctly remember hiding in the stairwell to the bedroom I shared with my late brother Dave about age 6 or 7 as he spun their latest 45 on the turntable, and thinking how much I loved rock and roll - Beatles rock and roll - even before I could adequately express it.   And, it and they have stayed with me all of this time.   What a wonderful experience that I know I'll never forget, including standing among the sweaty masses in the Cavern Club.  It just doesn't get much better than that.

Fourth, the country of Ireland is beautiful and, as Ray Urban says, so are its best asset - its people.   Although I might have liked a little less bouncing around on the bus, this is a magnificent country with a history second to none, and people as charming as any I've ever met.  Like so many other places we've visited, I'd love to go back but first have to get through the others on the bucket list - Africa, the American National Parks out west, Scotland, and the list goes on and on and on.   Hopefully we can do many more of these with traveling partners Ray and Mary Lee because they are an absolute pleasure to travel with, and perhaps even coax Connie Melton to come along.

Finally, just breaking up the monotony we face in our day to day lives was a gift from God.   Cheryl and I see each other so often for brief moments in passing, and it was so great to be able to spend time with her not worrying about what is for dinner, who gets the groceries, or whose turn it is to walk our new girl, Gracie Lou Freebush Mace.   So, 25 years down (as of September 23), and a prayer for 25 more.

That's it for this blog boy, so until we meet again, perhaps next year from the plains of Tanzania.  And, allow me to end with the well known Irish blessing . . . .

"May the road rise up to meet you
May the wind be always at your back
May the sun shine warm upon your face
And the rain fall soft upon your fields
And until we meet again
May God hold you in the palm of his hand”

Dreamland in Dromoland

Chloe, wearing the new wool poncho that Mims bought her,
says "time to go" Uncle Jeff!

Our last day in Ireland was a full day beginning at 9:00 a.m. in Killarney.  John, the bellman at The Royal Killarney, greeted me as the first from our group to venture downstairs about 7:00 a.m..   While being incredibly pleasant, he was equally hard to understand and spoke the fastest English I've ever heard on this planet.  At first I thought he was speaking in Gaelic because I could understand very little, but once I learned to grasp every third or fourth word, I got the intention of his dialogue.  "Coffee?" was one of the words I could make out so I nodded in assent and he brought me the perfect cup of strong Irish coffee to start my day.

We then chatted about the noise outside the hotel last night.  There was some kind of big motorcar race held annually in Killarney this weekend, and John told me (in a few words I could decipher) that it was "horrible", and "teenagers" that accompanied the drivers were a "nightmare".  Indeed, they were outside on the streets drinking and partying until the wee hours of the morning, and racing the engines of their pretend race cars.  Cheryl and I had our window open to cool the room down (and where do these Irish hotel rooms hide the thermostats?) so we heard some of it but eventually drifted off to sleep.

We bid adieu to Killarney about 9:15 after Cheryl and Mary Lee had to make one last mad dash to a jewelers around the corner for that "necklace to die for".  Fortunately for those of us paying the bill, they were closed and not open until 9:30, so back they came and off we went toward Adare, the Village of the Welcomes (as all of Ireland seems), a drive north about 60 miles into Limerick County, Ireland.  Adare was founded in the 12th. century, and we particularly enjoyed the visit to The Trinitarian Priory, the only one of its kind in all of Ireland and built in the 13th. century. 

This order of friars was founded in France, following the Holy-Land Crusades, with the main purpose of raising ransom money in order to rescue Christian captives taken by the Moors, during the crusade wars.  The church was simply beautiful and the stained glass windows stunning.  The quietness of the sanctuary was comforting but soon we had to leave as Tom, our driver, had us on a tight time schedule.

Lunch was the next order of priority because we certainly weren't getting enough food on this trip!  We stopped at Dillon's, Carrowkeel East, Inagh, Ireland.   The owner (Carmel and Pat) greeted us warmly, and most of us had yet one more sampling of the lovely fish and chips.  And, she ended the meal by bringing Chloe a "surprise" which was a beautiful dish of ice cream, none of which was chocolate (Chloe's favorite), so it got devoured by the rest of the table and back on the bus we went.

The Cliffs of Moher were the last stop for the day. Standing 702 feet from the Atlantic Ocean at their highest point they stretch for 5 miles along the Atlantic coast of County Clare. On a clear day one can see the Aran Islands and Galway Bay. O'Brien's Tower stands near the highest point and has served as a viewing point for visitors for hundreds of years.  Certainly this was a fabulous way to end the trip as it is one of the most popular destinations in Ireland, seeing over 1 million visitors per year.

From here, we had yet one more nice thing to do . . . check into our hotel which was, in actuality, a castle and a 5-star hotel.  While the present building was completed in 1835, its origins date back to the late 15th. or early 16th. century.  Some of the many famous people who have stayed here include George W. Bush (he asked if he was in Scotland!), Bill Clinton, Nelson Mandela, Muhammad Ali, Jack Nicholson, Johnny Cash, Bono, and John Travolta.  A lovely dinner (I had bangers and mash) with Ray and Mary Lee, Aaron, Melissa, Chloe, and Cheryl concluded our evening.

An early bedtime awaits us because we have to leave the hotel at 5:45 a.m. to be at Shannon Airport where we go through Emigration and Customs here instead of when we land at Newark.  If all goes well, we'll be home in Columbus by about 5 p.m. and we all know, as Dorothy in Oz told us "there's no place like home".   One more closing post reflecting on our trip in the next day or so, and that's it . . . .

A Long and Winding Road

 

Friday brought us another easy day of activities, as we left the hotel about 10:00 a.m. and headed almost due west for one of the three peninsulas jutting out into the Atlantic Ocean on the far west side of Ireland - Dingle.  An initial stop at the "family friendly" Moriarty's store on the way was a treat because we were greeted with a young man carrying very hot Irish coffees for those who wanted to partake at 10:30 a.m., and it was excellent.  Nothing like buttering up the Americans to spend those dollars and, of course, money changed hands for a few trinkets including a beautiful Irish Christmas ornament for a tree (a custom of ours when we journey pretty much anywhere!).

On we went for the drive of about 45 miles to Dingle.  There were times when we were on very high cliffs overlooking the ocean and looking straight down to the water many, many feet below.   There were other times when we were on roads so narrow that either the bus or oncoming car had to stop and back up to a place like a driveway at a house in order to allow one to pass before the other could move!  

One thing we saw a lot of was sheep, pretty much on any possible plot of land whether flat or on cliffs.  Raised primarily for their meat, the wool is certainly plentiful and, as a result, not a real cash crop for the farmers.   But, sheep are everywhere in this part of Ireland.

Another very interesting thing we saw were "Beehive Houses" which were occupied by Druids as far back as 2000 BC!   The land was mountainous with the high cliffs I mentioned - one wonders what in the world they would do to survive.  Tom remarked that the area was very forbidding in the winter months and there were very few houses in this part of the trip.  Some nearby islands had inhabitants on them dating back centuries, as well, until the Irish government finally said "no more" in the 1960s and moved them all off and back to the mainland.   Even on a day like today which was cool (probably about 50 degrees F) and windy, you could get a sense that, although beautiful and magnificent, this was not a place one would have an easy time in living.

Initially we went through Dingle and on to Slea (pronounced Slay) Head, a promontory in the westernmost part of the Dingle Peninsula, located in the barony of Corca Dhuibhne in southwest County Kerry, Ireland.  About halfway around, we were at the westernmost point in all Europe - Slea Head itself - which was marked by a beautiful marble crucifixion scene. 

Our driver, Tom, remarked that most who take this route do so in a clockwise manner because of the narrow roads and most (but not all) did.  That made for some interesting perspectives as we were occasionally right on the very edge of some massive cliffs - not good for this American who, admittedly, isn't great with heights.  But, again like yesterday, I survived.   And around the circular roadway we went, back to Dingle for lunch.

John Benny's was the pub we had lunch in and it was fairly typical great food and wonderful service from the Irish who are always eager to please.   Cheryl had her first fish and chips of the trip and I had "fish pie" which was a delicious casserole of fresh caught fish baked in a broth, covered with something like pie crust.  Aaron, Melissa, Chloe, Ray, and Mary Lee also joined us and their food looked every bit as inviting.

From there, it was back on the bus where Jeff and Leigh joined us, carrying a sack of Irish cheeses from a local shop.  It felt like it had a brick in it; that is about how much it weighed.  I'm guessing they're planning on taking some of it home and they felt great when Tom, the driver, remarked he had never visited that shop but had heard a lot of great things about it.

A bouncy ride back to our hotel in Killarney over about a 90 minute period.  I was feeling tired so I took about an hour nap and am down in the lobby (where the Internet connection actually works) to compose this missive about our adventures today.   Tomorrow (Saturday) is our last day in Ireland and there's a full day planned including Limerick, the magnificent Cliffs of Moher, and some other sites I'm sure will be equally memorable. 

I do want to say that this is really one beautiful country.   Everything is incredibly green which Tom, our driver, attributes to the underlying and plentiful limestone (which acts as fertilizer) mixed with abundant rain.   The people are lovely and incredibly eager to please.  The fact that they speak English (or something close to it that one can decipher readily enough) is an added plus.  This is certainly a trip we'll remember for a long, long time.

Romancing the Blarney Stone

The view of downtown Cork from our hotel room
at the beautiful Hayfield Manor

Thursday was a day of relative relaxation, with all of us in a super good mood after our fabulous overnight at Hayfield Manor in Cork, quite possibly the finest hotel I’ve ever stayed in . .  . not only was the room large and decorated beautifully, but also the staff was genuinely concerned that you had anything and everything you could possibly want.  After dinner we joined Aaron, Melissa, and Chloe as they luxuriated in the indoor, heated pool that was truly fit for a Hollywood mogul - elegance and class everywhere you look and everything you touched.  We were excited to hear that our hotel for tonight was the Hayfield Manor’s “sister hotel”.

A short drive from Cork we journeyed to Cobh (pronounced Cove) which is the seaport of Cork, and made famous for a couple reasons.  First, it was the port of departure for Irish emigrating to America or other foreign lands in hope of a better life.  And, second, it served as the departure point for the Titanic, and we know how that ended.   Finally, it was only about 25 miles off the coast from this point that the Lusitania was sunk by a German submarine and lost nearly 1,100 lives, many of them American, and brought the United States into World War I (although it was later shown that the Lusitania was, in fact, carrying heavy arms as well as a lot of men, women, and children).



The stone walls built 160 years ago by women and children
trying to live through the Potato Famine

Between 1848 and 1950, 2.5 million Irish people emigrated to the US from Cobh directly (out of a total of 6 million during that period).   In the early years, conditions were so deplorable they called these boats "coffin ships" because you were as likely to die from malnutrition or disease on the transfer as you were to make it to America. 

The Potato Famine from 1845 to 1848 was particularly bad, as men, women and children massed in the area, trying desperately to escape.  Sympathetic landowners put many women and children to work by building high stone walls to shield their property, providing for a day's work a bowl of soup and one shilling for the very hard work.   Irish Americans in Boston actually raised $150,000 to provide food, clothing, and the like for their starving brethren in Cobh, and sent it on relief ship "The USS Jamestown".

Many families held an "American Wake" for their departing husbands and sons. Much like an actual wake to honor the dead, it was basically a wake-in-advance since they didn't know if the person leaving would ever live to make it to America.  And today, we climb on a plane, complain about the cramped conditions, and get off in another country in a matter of hours. 

Additional notoriety for Cobh came as the departure point for the Titanic on April 11, 1912, and we all know how that ended - as we used to sing as children - kerplunk it sunk, cha cha cha.  But one thing less remembered or romanticized in movies was the sinking of the Lusitania on May 7, 1915.  Torpedoed by a German submarine, 1,198 passengers died, and 700 were rescued.  More than 100 bodies washed up on the shore of Cobh.  Whether the Germans mistook it for a "Q-ship" (heavily armed merchant ships with concealed weaponry, designed to lure submarines into vulnerable surface attacks) or actually carried weapons of war was debated for many years, the sinking caused a storm of protest.  It was the spark that caused America to enter the war in 1917 and bring World War I to an eventual conclusion (and once again the Americans rescued Europe).

From Cobh we moved on to Blarney, Ireland for - you guessed it - seeing the world famous Blarney Stone which is said to impart the gift of gab (or as the Irish call it "the gift of eloquence").  Up an incredibly steep, winding set of about 100 stone stairs some of us trudged to the top of the Blarney Castle.  I must admit being more than a little concerned about my life although there were handrails to hold on to, and periodically you could step out to flat spaces which were originally rooms in the castle build in the 15th. century.  Some of my family raced ahead unconcerned (Aaron, Melissa, Chloe, and even Cheryl!) while I moved onward and upward in my quest to kiss the Blarney Stone.

Finally, at the top!  The "stone" is actually embedded into the castle wall, so to kiss it one has to lie on their back and extend themselves out over open space, protected by a couple iron bars, while the guide boosts you out and holds on to you to prevent you from falling to a certain death (or so it seemed in my mind). 

Not sure the picture here captures my terror adequately, but my eyes were as big as saucers and I have to say I was terrified, even if only for a minute.  But kiss the damn stone I did so hopefully I get eloquence from that adventure for the rest of my life.   Later that evening, Chloe was talking my leg off so I definitely think it impacted her and I'll leave it to her parents to determine if it was a positive one!

The grounds of the Blarney Castle also contained the Blarney Woollen Mills, so my recovery from the near death experience involved me following Cheryl and Mary Lee inside to peruse what were, admittedly, a fabulous display of Irish goods.   Cheryl bought a little something for herself as well as a few gifts, so back on the bus toward our hotel for the evening, what I earlier referred to as the sister hotel of the fabulous Hayfield Manor.

I often use the expression "beggars can't be choosers", and I think it applied here.  While the Royal Kilarney in Kilarney, Ireland was indeed nice, it might be a 6 on a scale of 10 where the prior night's sister hotel, the Hayfield Manor, is a 10+.  At any rate, I slept like a proverbial log and didn't dream of falling from the top of Blarney Castle so it was another day concluded in the beautiful Emerald Isle.

Tomorrow (Friday) is largely a bus tour of beautiful Dingle overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.  We were offered the more tourist-travelled Ring of Kerry or its sister peninsula, Dingle, and chose the latter.   I'll let you know upon the next posting if it was wise decision.  

Yesterday, the Longest Name in England, and Today Names You Can't Pronounce

Wednesday greeted us early in Dublin and off we went at 9:00 a.m. for what turned out to be a full day of stops and lots of time in the bus.  Our first stop was the Irish National Stud (official name: Comhlacht Groí Náisiúnta na hÉireann Teo), a thoroughbred horse breeding facility in Tully, Kildare, County Kildare, Ireland.   Horse racing is a big deal in Ireland, so this place is sort of the Mecca for horse lovers and is owned by the Irish government. We saw lots of studs with big fees for breeding, and a few foals - one born this morning at 5 a.m. was sequestered from the public but exemplified that this is a working place, and one where a lot of money is involved.

The National Stud was built in the 1940s around the Japanese Gardens which were created in the early 1900s, and would've gotten a longer look from all of us except for the biting wind and "Irish mist" - rain.  Per Wikipedia, they are  planned to symbolise the 'Life of Man', are now of international renown and are acclaimed as the finest Japanese Gardens in Europe.  Blossoms from some beautiful ornamental trees proved great entertainment for Chloe and Mims (Cheryl) who chased each other around, throwing them up in the air and running under them.



Kilkenny Castle

From here, it was a short ride to Kilkenny (Irish: Cill Chainnigh, meaning "church of  Cainnech) which is well known for its castle.  It began in the early 6th. century as a monastic settlement, and beside the ancient buildings like the castle, you could easily tell it was a medieval town by the size and narrowness of its streets.   Good thing traffic was crawling because it would have been harrowing otherwise. 

Again, with a light rain coming down, we skipped the tour of the castle and settled for a lovely lunch and, yes, the very Irish gift shop.  Cheryl was tempted by many items and Mary Lee gave in and bought herself a beautiful wool sweater and scarf.  

Back in the bus with Tom our capable driver and off to our third stop in Waterford - yes, you guessed it - the Waterford Crystal factory.  Waterford is actually the oldest city in Ireland and one of its most populous, and its natural claim to fame is, of course, crystal.  Begun by the Vikings, they were driven from the area in about 902 AD, and was the site of many great battles between the English and the Irish.

While much of the actual production of crystal has moved to Europe to former communist countries (for cheaper labor!), this site still produces the special items like NBA trophies, NCAA football trophies, and the like.  The amount of craftmanship was awesome as they took us on a tour of the factory and we could see step-by-step the production of perhaps the world's finest crystal.

Upon leaving Waterford, we set out for our final stop of the day - Cork - a distance of about 90 miles, most of which was covered by two or occasionally three-lane roads.  At one point the going got tough, but for a good cause - Ciara's Ride for Suicide Prevention. 

Apparently, cyberbullied Ciara was 15 when she took her own life in September, 2012, and a now annual ride turns out tens of thousands in her honor to raise money for suicide prevention.   We certainly didn't mind going slowly for this section of the journey, and got a bit misty-eyed to see the many hundreds of villagers turned out to clap and wave and lend their support.  It reminded me of the Southern Ohio tour that late, dear friend Marsha Zurmehly Tootle took many times, may God rest her wonderful soul.

We finally made it to Cork and checked into one of the most fabulous hotels I've ever stayed in - The Hayfield Manor.   With a 150-year old cedar tree gracing the entrance, the place looked like it was easily two or three hundred years old.  Turns out it is only 25 years old!  The estate, in the heart of Cork was originally owned by famous Cork merchants, and purchased from them to become the first 5-star hotel in the city.

A lovely dinner - a nice fillet with a glass of one of Kentucky's finest bourbons (Jim Beam) and we're off to our spacious and well appointed room for finishing the evening relaxing.  Tomorrow we're off to Cobh (pronounced Cobe), the last departure point for the Titanic and where the Irish departed for America, as well as the Blarney Castle.  I'm warming up my lips even now so I can kiss that darned stone and be granted the gift of gab for the rest of my life! 

I'll catch up with you tomorrow night (and the next) from Kilarney.   Hope all is well in the great old USA!

The Emerald Isle

Tuesday found us leaving Liverpool about 11:00 a.m. (after one more visit to the gift shop at “The Beatles Story”) and headed north toward Holyhead in northern Wales where we would catch the ferry across the Irish Sea to Dublin.  It was a fairly quiet ride, but certainly interesting with the backdrop of Wales and its beautiful green pastures, herds of grazing sheep, and lots of castles not far off the highway.

The trip rolled on fairly uneventfully, and then about 30 minutes from our destination, our driver took a brief detour to take us to the Welsh town with the longest name in all of Great Britain – LLANFAIRPWLLGWYNGYLLGOGERYCHWYRNDOBWLLLANTYSILIOGOGOCH – which is translated as “The Church of Mary in the Hollow of the White Hazel Near the Fierce Whirlpool and the Church of Tysilio by the Red Cave”.   Wow!  And as you can see from the photo, this “truck stop” which bears the name was jammed with tourists, all eager to see this oddity.

From there, back on the bus and to the Irish Ferry at Holyhead for the 3 hour trip across the Irish Sea.   Most of us had taken Dramamine, thinking we’d need it and it was absolutely the calmest sea you can imagine.   We had upgraded to Club level, so spent most of the next three hours eating and drinking some lovely treats and drinking Coke, coffee, water, and the like . . . . so much so that when we arrived in Dublin, Mary Lee and Cheryl begged off dinner.   The kids said they were going later but don’t know if they ever did or not.

Ray and I went across the street to The Ginger Man for dinner, and approached it apprehensively because of the large crowd waiting outside.   These young twenty- and thirty-somethings were outside, though, to enjoy the beautiful weather and to have a smoke.   So, into the bar we waded, sat down, and I promptly ordered a Guinness Stout and Jameson Irish Whiskey.   And, both were really good.  For dinner we each had Beef and Guinness Pie (which was chunks of beef in gravy under a pastry crust with a side of mashed potatoes).  Neither of us left there with any hunger left, and had a great time.  

Back to the hotel for a quick word for the loyal readers only to find that the internet is out so not sure when this will get posted.   Tomorrow (Wednesday), we’re leaving about 9:00 a.m. for a dash to a thoroughbred horse farm, then on to Kilkenny to see Kilkenny Castle, and over to the Waterford Crystal plant . . . . all before lunch.   Then, a two hour drive to Cork where we’ll be spending the next couple days.

Glad to be here, and everyone is so friendly.   Can’t wait to see more of the countryside, and back to you soon to report on it.

I Want to Hold Your Hand

Monday in Liverpool and I was "on a mission from God" (to borrow Dan Aykroyd's phrase from "The Blues Brothers") . .  . .absorb as much of the Beatles as I can before departing for Dublin, Ireland via the ferry across the Irish Sea tomorrow a.m.  So, after the usual sumptuous breakfast at The Hampton Inn, albeit in Liverpool, England, we set off in a variety of directions.   Cheryl and Connie went shopping in the upscale mall down the street.   Aaron, Melissa, and Chloe took off to visit museums (e.g., the Tate museum) and be entertained.  Jeff and Leigh went walking about the Albert Dock area, and I - I headed straight toward "The Beatles Story" at Albert Dock.

It was incredibly well done, and led viewers on a year-to-year odyssey of who they were, how they came together, who their influences were, and their own eight-year recording career.  Of course I could've stayed for hours, but I had to see "Part 2" of the museum down the Mersey River - a tribute to their hero Elvis and some photos by a young photographer who accompanied them (and whose work wasn't displayed, allegedly, anywhere else in the world) - The Beatles Hidden Gallery.   Part 1 was terrific and I emerged feeling cleansed in the fountain of Beatles, both happy and sad that it ended so soon.  And, of course I pondered what might have been had not John been ridiculously assassinated in 1980 and George later died of cancer.  Paul and Ringo, though, are more than holding their own and maintaining the sacred mantel.

Part 2, the museum extension down the Mersey River, was a C grade at best.   After enduring a 3D cartoon built around Beatles music (and better suited for those under age 10), all that was really left was the gift shop and the aforementioned photos.   The latter were very interesting, and I found one that I just had to have a reprint of from the gift shop . . . . .Paul hunched over his Hofner bass guitar, singing "Twist and Shout" with a fury, hair shaking, and you could just feel the rock and roll joy pouring out of it.   Although I have so little space left in my large collection of rock and roll posters and artwork, somehow I think I can find room for this one even if someone else has to come down off the wall!

After this, I started walking back toward where the
"Magical Mystery Tour" bus was set to pick us all up at 1:45 p.m., and first ran into Aaron, Melissa, Chloe, Jeff, and Leigh who were gathered in a coffee shop along the way.   It was fun chatting with them but my eyes were clearly on the clock as I simply couldn't miss all the attractions to be seen on the tour.  Right on time, it rolled up and the driver was amused at "all the Yanks" queued up and ready to roll.  And, the tour?  It was fantastic.

Paul McCartney's boyhood home where many of the early
Beatles hits were written with pal John Lennon

We saw the boyhood homes of all four Beatles, the church where Paul first met John who was playing there with the Quarrymen, Penny Lane, Strawberry Fields, and so many more wonderful sites.   We ended up at the Cavern Club which is a replica built across a small street from the original.   In a fit of bad planning, the original was below grade of a large building that was toppled in the 70's for a ventilation shaft into the expanding subway system.   The original Cavern Club wasn't destroyed, but filled with rubble, and the ventilation shaft was never built.   So, it was later excavated and most of the bricks from it were used to build the replica across the street where the tour ended.

Down the four flights of steps we bounded and then we were there - rock and roll Mecca - and a great acoustic guitarist was banging out Beatles tunes loud and clear, and the crowd gathered (and sweating in the cramped quarters like oh so many years ago) was singing at the top of their voices.  

Ray bought me a very nice ale, and Connie and I added our lovely voices to the fray. Frankly I could've stayed for hours and listened to live music (the Beatles) and drank cold ale, but nothing good lasts forever.  Having imagined it "in the day" with the Beatles on stage, and crowds of sweaty bodies dancing and having a great time will be forever etched in my mind, and that vision will spring forth every time I hear them do "Twist and Shout" or "Roll over Beethoven".  Roll over, indeed!

The super-large Ferris Wheel at the Albert Dock,
ridden without fear by four-year-old Chloe the Wonder Girl
earlier in the day

Then, too soon, it was time to leave so we all walked back toward the hotel and, again, the group splintered.   Jeff and Leigh headed for China Town, Cheryl and Connie went to the shops at Albert Dock, Aaron, Melissa, and Chloe headed off somewhere, and Ray and I ambled back to the hotel.   We hope to all reconnect in the lobby for a nice dinner about 6:30 or 7:00 p.m., very likely at the Albert Dock. 

We reconvened for dinner at an upscale pizza place and had a terrific evening dinner, cementing friendships going forward.   We called it a night relatively early with a nightcap in the hotel lobby, toasting Connie who leaves in the morning for her return flight to the USA while the rest of us soldier on - it is  such a hard task after all! We need to be ready to rock by 11:00 a.m. for our two hour journey to Holyhead where we catch the ferry across the Irish Sea for Dublin. 

Perhaps you'll hear from me on the ferry tossing on the waves of the Irish Sea (and here's to hoping that the only thing that gets tossed is the boat!).   Or, perhaps the next input will be from Dublin tomorrow (Tuesday) night!  Either way, thanks for reading (and thanks, Donna C., for your positive comments)

From Roxton Park to Liverpool

The day started with a great breakfast at our hotel, followed by hurried packing and a relatively quick exit from Wyboston Lakes as we prepared for the short cab ride in "Dave's Cabs" out to Roxton Park where were were once again feted by the wonderful Bath family - Simon, Maggie, Jenny, and Anthony - this time at a brunch for family and friends, some of whom weren't and many who were at the weddign yesterday.   Some who weren't included some of the lovely ladies who turned out to greet Jenny as she arrived by car the prior day.   One told me how beautiful she was and how proud they were of "Young Master Bath" for having selected such a darling young lady. Of course we reciprocated with similar sentiments for the smart, handsome young man she had chosen.

 

Upon arrival at wonderful Roxton Park, we got a mini-tour from Simon's sister, Angela, starting with the magnificent barn.   Originally built in 1380 and added to in 1600, it is a magnificent structure that is largely unused today other than for storage.   Its interior features hand-hewn beams of oak and other timbers that speak to the monumental effort that went in to building this very large structure which has stood largely undisturbed for centuries. The history of all the buildings on Roxton Park just ooze character and "of the ages" even though Angela insisted that the barn of her childhood "smells a bit of sheep!"

 

Connie, Cheryl, and Angela standing in front of a
giant sequoia tree that had to be at least two or three centuries old.

The brunch that followed was also held in the marquee (tent) used for last night's wedding soiree, but for a smaller group of 80 family and close friends.  Instead of sitting at tables named for rock albums, this time they were named for states and Cheryl, Connie and I sat at the "Kentucky" table.  Again, it was a lovely meal with plenty of liquid refreshment flowing freely.  Unfortunately, Becky and Stewart (niece and husband) had to leave mid-meal at 2:00 p.m. to catch their train to Edinburgh, Scotland for their next leg of their trip.  

It was hard leaving Jenny and Anthony and all the wonderful times we had had in the past couple days.   We don't have a defined date when we'll see them again and that uncertainty always brings sadness.  Skype is great, but there's nothing like being there in person.  But, off we had to dash at 2:30 p.m. anyway for a trip back to the hotel to pick up our bags and meet driver Dennis for the 155 mile transit to Liverpool.

Once again we rolled past field after field of the brilliant yellow color of a main cash crop - rapeseed, and it was a good thing to have something to distracct the eyes.  Because the bus was set to go a maximum of 62 mph and the driver had restrictions on hours driving, we didn't get to Liverpool until about 7:15 and checked into the Hampton Inn on Albert Dock.  

Off we trudged to dinner and back to the hotel to rest for tomorrow.   Monday in Liverpool will feature "The Magical Mystery Tour" bus tour of favorite Beatles spots and end up at the replica Cavern Club (as the original was demolished for a subway station a few years ago, but the replica was built across the street, brick by brick).   I can't wait to see anything and everything associated with the Fab Four . . . that's why we're here.  

More tomorrow after our day with the Mop Tops. 

Goin' to the Chapel of Love

The day started overcast and looked like rain, but that was misleading because it turned into the most beautiful spring weather for the loveliest of weddings.  Jenny stayed at our hotel on Saturday night after the party at Simon and Maggie's beautiful manor, and the scurrying to get ready began soon after breakfast.   Lucky for me that the extent of my preparations was to don the rented "morning suit" (tux with tails sans hat).

About 2:15 p.m. the group started to meet downstairs and the bride emerged from her preparations, looking absolutely beautiful and getting approving looks from every woman - guest and employee - who happened to be in the vicinity. Her strapless gown, according to Cheryl, was rouched satin with an assymetrical bodice, fit-and-flair gown,, with "eight million buttons on the back".   She wore a shoulder length veil and the look was really stunning. All that was left was to pack everyone up into cabs, and save the beautiful, custom 2014 Land Rover (with a television)  ride for herself, Cheryl, and I.  With only a small struggle, she managed to get herself and her poofy dress into the front seat and off we headed toward Roxton Park.

 

The weather had started to break at that point - at least the threat of rain seemed diminished.  And, when we arrived at the gate of Roxton Chapel, there stood about 15 local ladies who had turned out to see the soon-to-be Mrs. Bath.   They smiled, they clapped politely - it was absolutely charming - to show their respect for the soon-to-be daughter in law of the esteemed Mr. and Mrs. Bath.

Down the sidewalk 20 yards and we were at the back of the Roxton Chapel with Rev. Damp and the maids of honor, Sarah and Emily.   The music swelled and in we stepped, with Jenny on my right arm, beaming.  When we practiced this yesterday, there was a noticeable lump in my throat and tears nearly spilled out at the thought of what was to transpire, but today magically they all stayed in place and to the front of the wonderful small chapel we moved . . .  slowly . .  . and it was a bit like what being famous must be like as I could hear the whir and click of camera shutters with a few flashes.

My part was rather small but turned out to really make an imprint on the British guests. When asked during the ceremony "Who gives this woman away", my response was "Her mother and I".   Apparently that was incredibly novel over here.   Ray Urban told me  the woman next to him let out an audible gasp and later at the reception I had at least 10 different people come to me to tell me they had never heard that before and thought it was "lovely" and "brilliant" and "touching".  My late mother in heaven was surely smiling at that as I recall how many times she made my father practice that line so she'd get her due when he handed off my sister in her wedding in 1970.

Granddaughter Chloe continued her pattern of excellent behavior, this time as the flower girl, and sat relatively quietly - other than those two or three times her flowers seemed to slip out of her hand and hit the floor.   The whole group watched the love of Anthony Peter Bath and Jennifer Orion Gordon unfold before our very eyes, and before we knew it, they were husband and wife.   The recessional, Jenny said, was a nod to me!  "All You Need is Love" played on a very old and beautiful pipe organ rolled out as we left the chapel for a sunny day (yes, sun in England!) - it doesn't get much better than that.

Extremely well-organized pictures followed and to the fabulous reception in the marquee (very large deluxe tent) followed for the 120 guests (and tell me I couldn't write for The New York Times wedding section!).  A magnificent pork dinner (two kinds) and assorted accompaniments, champagne, and a wonderful dessert followed and then it was time for "the speeches" (as the British call them). 

I was up first and got the group off to a good start with my initial words about being the token American of our litle token American group, but that "The Americans love the British!"   You would've thought it was a boxing match with the rousing cheer I got in return by the many almost or fully tipsy British guests.  I was followed by very heartfelt words from groom Anthony and then the words of the best man.  The last part of the evening was the opening of the nicest dance floor (lights inside it) and the crowd swelled to it - including your own intrepid blogger - for an evening of dancing to mostly 90's and newer music.  Cheryl and I socialized with others after the Marvin Gaye song three or four into the lineup.

But what was the most fabulous wedding I've ever attended wasn't over yet.  About 10:30 p.m. we were called outside for one more surprise, and were treated to a 20 minute fireworks show that, proportionally, rivaled Red, White, and Boom!  No one I talked to had ever seen a fireworks show at a wedding and it was spectacular.  We gathered our troupe and started heading back to the hotels about 11:30, once more enjoying (at least in my cab) the repartee with the English cab driver who, himself, was absolutely charming.  

Up at 9:00 a.m. on Sunday for the next adventure - the family and friends brunch at Roxton Park and then, as Jeff calls it, the beginning of "Dad's part of the trip" - Liverpool.   We'll be arriving there about 5 or 6 p.m. tonight, just in time to wander around and get the vibe of "Can't Buy Me Love" that must surely be floating through the air.

An American Girl

I  awoke this Saturday morning at 7:30 a.m. (2:30 EST) with a great song running endlessly through my head, Tom Petty's "American Girl", and thinking of Jenny on today, her wedding day.  From 1977, Petty and the Heartbreakers sang "Well she was an American girl, Raised on promises, She couldn't help thinkin' that there was a little more to life, Somewhere else, After all it was a great big world, With lots of places to run to, Yeah, and if she had to die Tryin' she had one little promise, She was gonna keep, Oh yeah, all right Take it easy baby, Make it last all night, She was an American girl"

Not sure if that has full relevance to bride-to-be Jennifer or not, but I do know she's an American Girl, no matter what this day and the unfolding future holds.  When asked by Mary Lee if Jenny sounds like she has an American accent, her friends are all quick to say "Ooohhhhh yeah!" while we think it is actually a bit of a hybrid between the two.  Somehow that thought stuck in my mind and, voila, I awoke to the mental jangling guitars of Mr. Petty et al whose " supercharged riff set the template for decades of Petty hits", as Wikipedia says.  Nothing beats great rock and roll.

Last night was the rehearsal followed by cocktails and hors de oeuvres at Roxton Park, Bedfordshire  - Anthony's boyhood home, and centerpiece of the Bath estate, graciously hosted by Anthony's wondeful parents, Simon and Maggie.  According to Google, the house dates to the late 18th. century with 19th. century improvements.  Ray and I agreed that if you looked up the word "English" in the dictionary, it would most certainly be pictures of this place and the beautiful surrounding grounds which are the centerpiece for a farm of about 1,200 acres which today raises mostly wheat and rapeseed, a high-end oil with a cabbagey flavor and apparently all the rage in cooking.  On our ride from Heathrow, we saw many fields of its brilliant yellow color on full display as far as the eye could see, much like the endless fields of corn in Iowa.

The rehearsal was  held in the chapel on the grounds of Roxton Park, itself originally a cow barn converted into a quaint chapel in 1808 and given to the township by the family. The place literally oozes charm and history, including the pipe organ brought from London in 1941 during the height of the Blitz, and the beautiful stained glass window and "The Roll of Heroes" for those family and others from Roxton who gave their lives for England in both World War I and World War II. 

It will be a wonderful setting for the wedding held later today.  Based on the rehearsal, if I can make it through without being choked up or downright sobbing, I'll certainly be surprised.
 

Simon and Maggie Bath with
Cheryl, Jenny, and J.D.

Chloe the Wonder Girl, and
birthday girl "Mims"

From the rehearsal, the group moved back to the house for cocktails and getting to know each other.  And, what a magnificent house it is, beautifully decorated with some magnificent history of its own.   The "game room" was a favorite with its 14 foot snooker table - a game which makes billiards look like child's play!  But there were family treasures everywhere the eye turned in this room Anthony said "looked just like it did back in the 60's when my grandfather lived here."

A couple of particular favorites of mine were the propellers from a German plane shot down nearby that Anthony's grandfather had fashioned into a gun rack - that showed 'em!  And, a signed thank you picture from Field Marshall Montgomery who led the British to victory after victory in World War II graced the wall, too.  I confessed all that I knew about him was what I'd seen on the George C. Scott movie "Patton" and it wasn't particularly flattering.  The British obviously have a different opinion of their man and Anthony's grandfather had helped Monty's tanks keep rolling through England when they ran out of gas nearby.  He remembered, three years after the war ended, to send a thank you note.   The English are nothing if not courteous.

After a suitable period of sipping fine English scotch and lots of kissing and hugging of family and friends, we bid adieu and headed back to the hotel for the evening. Friday drew to a close with many of us back in the hotel bar for a late dinner and drinks, and off to bed for a big day on Saturday - wedding day.   Bolstered by the additions of friends Connie Melton and niece Becky and husband Stewart, I think the Yanks will make a fine showing for the American Girl.