I was excited for London, we’d been living out of a trailer in rural Ireland for the past month or so and were itching for a change of pace. We touched down into Heathrow with just around a week to explore, though we knew it wouldn’t be nearly enough. Three days on our feet exploring was time to tick most big things off my list - Buckingham Palace, Houses of Parliament, the Globe Theater. The London Eye and Big Ben (even though it was under construction). Hours just wandering, people-watching at Convent Garden, window-shopping in Notting Hill, sipping coffees from Borough Market, winding through quiet, ivy-covered mews.
We stayed in the city but ended up spending much more time outside of it than in. We took a day trip to Stonehenge, and walked along the chalk-white Cliffs of Dover set against a cerulean sea. Afternoon tea in Canterbury, paying homage to Shakespeare’s birthplace with a play in Stratford-upon-Avon (we saw a gender-reversal rendition of The Taming of the Shrew). A day trip to Oxford, where we wandered through colleges steeped in history, and drank at the same old pubs that J.R.R. Tolkien used to. My favorite might have been Cambridge, learning about all the scientific discoveries that were made there, and listening to the choral evensong in King’s College - sitting in the choral stalls and listening to the psalm being sung, echoing purely in the halls and stained-glass windows of a 500-year-old-cathedral - it was truly one of the most breathtaking experiences we’ve had to date.
Peter has some family in England - first-cousins once-removed to be exact, and we met up with them for dinner in Coventry. They ended up inviting us to their caravan in a rural part of north Wales for the long weekend, and even though we hadn’t been planning on leaving England just yet, we knew we had to go with them.