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.

And the Yanks Have Arrived!

Ah, the best laid plans . .  . we were supposed to leave Columbus, meet "the kids" entourage in Newark, and fly together to London Heathrow.   In a scenario a bit like "Bridgegate" in New Jersey, someone decided that spring 2014 would be a good time to take one of the world's busiest airport (Newark) down to one runway.  That delayed us leaving Columbus by about 90 minutes and the wheels for chaos were set in motion.

As we exited the plane upon landing at Newark, the ticket agent was imploring us to "Run!  Run to the next gate - 83!"  Seeing we were several light years away, I asked a crusty old cart driver if he could ferry us and was met with an indifferent "I'm off the clock!" comment - thanks for that positive attitude.   But a wave of greenbacks under his nose changed his mind and he threw us into his cart and sped off for Gate 83.   The flight status monitors were supportive of our quest to get there on time, indicating "Maintenance Delay".  Almost there, and a flight attendant from Columbus who had joined us yelled "Stop!" and jumped off, saying that her info indicated it was Gate 125!   What a conundrum.

With precious seconds ticking away, we debated - 83 or 125?  Onward we elected to go and arrived at Gate 83 just to see the tailights of the maintenance-delayed flight
on which our kids were sitting . .  off on its way to England.  Then, back in the cart and the mad dash toward Gate 125. We got there and, as the last four to arrive found that the "Economy Plus" seats we paid extra for were, of course, occupied, mine by a young boy of about 5 from Norway who stared at me challengingly. 

For one brief shining moment, it looked like I might get a first class seat - one of those with the bed - and I intended to make it my birthday gift for Cheryl (today, April 25 is the day for her), but alas, they moved about 42 people around and we sat together in the Steerage section (remember the Titanic?) two rows from the very back of the plane.

After several hours of no sleep exacerbated by the young man across from me who felt the need to make at least 212 trips to the restroom, we landed in Heathrow.   One more disappointment was in store because our sole link to the kids - Cheryl's cell phone - decided that despite Verizon's assurances, it wasn't going to work . . . something in its hardware setting.  So, we didn't know if they were there, waiting on us, on the bus toward the hotel, or just what was happening.

Then our luck started to change.  First, Heathrow was incredibly orderly.  Our journey through Immigration actually moved quickly (unlike the two hour excursion we had last year when entering Russia for those faithful readers of this blog who recall that experience) - nothing quite like being in a first-world country, and one speaking English to boot! Our luggage actually showed up despite the earlier whack-a-mole game of which flight we were on, and we headed toward the door looking for that elusive man holding the sign that said "MACE".

And what to my wondrous eyes did appear, but Jeff Mace with a big smile and a welcoming hug!  The kids flight (83) had actually been delayed on the runway at Newark and had arrived only about 30 minutes prior to ours.   The guy holding the sign "MACE" actually was there for their arrival but had to leave before we got there.   The guy driving our van, though, correctly decided to stay and wait for us, so on we piled and off we headed for the 1 hour drive north to Wyboston Lakes, a beautiful conference center and family base for the wedding to come!

Jenny, Jeff and Leigh

Without a way to contact Jenny to let her know the Yanks had arrived, I sent her an e-mail on the hotel's free WiFi which is a screaming speed compared to the US (must be at least 100 Mbps or faster for those Geeks like me).  10 minutes later, she called our room and said "we're on our way over", and so a tearful reunion in the lounge followed.   Jenny has never looked better - trim, beautiful, and, as her mother said "dressed to the nine's!"

A quick shower, still no sleep, and then the party started in the lounge.  Anthony's lovely parents, Maggie and Simon, arrived, as did Simon's sister and husband (from California, but speaking with their not forgotten British accent).  Joining the fray were John and Claudia Gordon, Jenny's aunt and uncle from Cleveland, and Connor and Sarah Gordon, half-brother and sister. 



Your intrepid blogger, sampling the
 wonders of Guiness Stout, an Irish brew,
admittedly, in an English pub

Several Guiness' or other refreshments later, we closed our long period of sleeplessness with fish and chips and off to bed.  Woke up at 10 a.m. local time (5 a.m. EST) - a full 12 hours of sleep after 24 hours of no sleep.  Kids - Aaron, Melissa, Chloe the Wonder Girl, Jeff, and Leigh - are off for a visit to nearby Cambridge. I think they're hoping to get some of that "book learning" rubbed off on them.   I believe Mary Lee and Ray are joining them.  

Cheryl, the Birthday Girl, and I are relaxing, I'm eating a hot cross bun with butter (delicious I must admit), and writing the blog.  At 4 p.m. today we're off to Roxton Park (Anthony's home) for the rehearsal dinner and party to follow.   We expect more arrivals from Yanks Connie Melton and niece Becky and husband Stewart to bolster our ranks.



Three Days to Liftoff!

Easter Sunday, and a beautiful spring day in Ohio is off to a nice start.  Looking forward to the family gathering at sister-in-law Mona's in a few hours for the usual fete d'extraordinaire!  Just sneaking in a few minutes beforehand to get the blog going for the upcoming liftoff from the USA to the UK and Ireland.

This is an interesting trip in that the featured event is the wedding of Jennifer Orion Gordon to Anthony Bath next Saturday, April 26 in Roxton Chapel somewhere in England - one of those 'Shire places.   Not only is the entire immediate family going - Aaron, Melissa, Chloe, Jeff, and Leigh - but also dear friends Ray Urban and Mary Lee Hess, and Connie Melton.   We'll also be joined by niece Becky and husband Stewart Voss who are honeymooning, first, in London, meeting us at the 'Shire place, then going on to Scotland.

But wait, there's more!  Friday, April 25 is Cheryl's birthday, and the whole family trip is in celebration of our 25th. anniversary.  Yes, that anniversary doesn't actually occur until September 23, 2014, but we've long talked about taking our kids somewhere to celebrate that momentous occasion, and Jenny and Anthony provided the opportunity . .  .just a few months early.   And, Ray, ML, and Connie all said "What the hell.  We're in, too!".    So, should be more than a great time.

After the wedding, we're going to the English equivalent of rock and roll Mecca - Liverpool - for a couple days.   Already have tickets for the Beatles tour, and can't wait to drink a cold one and listen to live music at The Cavern Club.  From there, it is a 3-hour ferry ride across the Irish sea to Dublin for overnight, then a group tour of beautiful southern Ireland in the springtime and flying back home from Shannon, Ireland.

As with past vacations, I like to combine a love of writing with a few photos (yes, it smacks of "My Summer Vacation" like in grade school but I can't help myself!).  So, take a few minutes and follow along as the Mace family and our friends see if we can bring some American barbarianism to England and Ireland.   There will be a new posting every day, more or less, so hopefully you'll enjoy!