An American’s View of Europe

Not ALL Americans, you understand, just this one.

As a first-timer in Britain, I was seeing with my own eyes places I only saw in photos or videos many times before.  I knew what to expect, I have seen it all on TV, Movies, and the Internet.  Right?

HA!  It is not the ‘seeing of things’ that is the big deal.  It is the ‘being there’ while you are seeing. You are surrounded by the place, smelling the atmosphere there, hearing the sounds. You are actually a part of things happening there in the present time.  MyLastBritishPhoneBooth

As much as I think I know a lot, I was surprised by this feeling.  I can only describe it as a “traveler’s high”, which does not describe it very well at all, I know, but I had to call it something.

The ride from the airport in Heathrow, to our hotel, was a British version of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride on steroids.  This van driver had to be on heavy sedation meds OR he was quite mad.  Either way, he was going 80 kilometers an hour in heavy traffic. My heart stopped at least five times. We were seated next to huge windows and were witnesses to the mere centimeters between us and the other vehicles.  Not only that, but he seemed to be driving on the right side once in a while, instead of the left side. We were going so fast I could not figure out how the lanes followed the street.

By the time we reached the Conrad London St. James we were exhausted by all the G-force we had to endure to get there. The trip took 47 minutes and 12 seconds. It was a blessing in disguise – we were no longer sleepy with jet-lag, and ready to explore the neighborhood. After many hours on a plane it felt good to stretch our legs. I insisted on a photo with me in the telephone booth. I compromised with my being next to the open door because the competing smells of vomit and urine were awful. Another fantasy smashed.

It was Washington D.C. all over again. My dream of visiting the Smithsonian Museum of American History did not come to be. I found the museum, which was a near miracle, but it was closed for renovation. Closed!?!

Our hotel was right next to Westminster – we were in walking distance to Buckingham Palace.  Big Ben loomed in the distance.  I was so anxious to see Ben!  Unfortunately, the clock face was draped with tarps because of work being done on the clock tower. Not only hidden, but he was also silenced.  I did not realize how much I wanted to hear his “bong,” until I started to cry.

We did not explore long because we were tired and hungry.  I don’t know if we had a late lunch or an early dinner, but Conrad’s restaurant was lovely.  I, of course, had to have the fish & chips. All four of us did.

We could not party all night because we had to get going at oh-dark-thirty to catch the early train to Paris.  I was so excited to go to Paris, even just for one day.  I think that my daughter’s trip there last summer got me interested in going.

It’s true – the French are rude.  What makes their rudeness more annoying is the fact that they are so proud of it.  You won’t find many shopkeepers, tour guides, or those who work in the tourist areas rude.  But watch out for the average French person.

Getting to France was fun in itself. The hotel learned we were catching the early train to Paris and packed a little breakfast container for each of us. I wish I had taken a picture – they were cute and so yummy!

By the time the train let us off in Paris, I was so excited that I could hardly sit still on the bus to the Eiffel Tower – our first tourist spot. Looking at the ground from the top section was unreal. We were supposed to have lunch there, but alas, the restaurant had been overbooked, so people who spoke no French got cut from their reservations. C’est la vie. 

TTFN!

Stay tuned for the Adventures in Central America…

Been Here, Seen This!

Leakey’s Bookshop, located in the heart of Inverness, Scotland, is a true gem for bibliophiles. Housed in a former 18th-century Gaelic church, this unique bookshop is the largest second-hand bookstore in Scotland.

Established by Charles Leakey in 1979, the shop boasts an extensive collection of over 100,000 books, spanning two floors beneath a striking wood-burning stove that warms the space. The spiral staircase and original architectural features add to the shop’s distinct character, making it a must-visit for anyone exploring Inverness.

I came across this photo and blurb while browsing Facebook this morning. My jaw dropped in disbelief—not that this wonderful library existed, but that I could not prove I was there.

I took photos when I was in the British Isles—obviously not enough. My only defense is that I was so excited to be there (in Europe) that taking photos did not come up very often in my brain. This is a disturbing attribute for a tourist, but it also prevents me from having many pictures/videos of my grandchildren.

Not only was I at this bookstore, but I did not even purchase a book! My BFF would have loved a book from here. Maybe the store was closed at the time of our tour? That would be doubtful.

This is the photo I took in Inverness. Hubby took a couple for me, and sad to say, I spent an entire post griping about him.


I must have my head examined soon.

TTFN

Adventures in the Shetland Islands

 

Lerwick, Scotland is part of the Shetland island chain. At first sight, the word “quaint” came to my mind.  When in the city, it is bustling, but still, it has the quaintness factor.

The Scottish brogue is heavier up here, and the Scots are wonderful hosts, and very friendly – happy even.  Happy has got to be challenging this far North. It rains 250 days of the year. Temperatures in August are 59F, foggy, soggy and grey.  Being a California girl, this situation would crush my spirit after a month – maybe less.

We crossed a bridge over to a different island to see the Shetland Ponies.  Our group had an appointment at “Carol’s Ponies.”  All us senior citizens of various countries were excited like little kids.

The long uncomfortable bus ride was worth seeing those precious ponies! I think everyone was touched seeing those sweet almost mythical creatures.  Carol was a small energetic woman.  I could tell she loved her ponies and was proud of them by the way she introduced them to us.

She began at one end of the corral and called each one by name.  All female common names for the most part, like Lilly, Lucy, Marie, and so on. Then she pointed at the baby pony and introduced him as “Bob.”  I was concerned about baby Bob because he kept lying down.  Carol explained that Bob was only 11 weeks old and would run around and play, then tucker out – just like puppies do.

Poor Bob – each time he lied down, his mama nosed him to get up again. I wondered if she was doing that to show him off to the crowd.  I don’t blame her at all, he is a beauty!  Most of the group wanted to smuggle Bob home.

None of us did, though.

Baby Bob

♥  TTFN  ♥