Phil, who turned out to be very knowledgeable about not only the customary and usual history, had many tangential stories which added greatly to our trip. Whether they were true or not, we would have to wait to Google his facts later.
We came onto the Salisbury Plain after a short ride eagerly anticipating our up close and personal visit to the monolithic stones at Stonehenge. Once parked, our group ambled over the site to see the 4500 year old assemblage of 30-50 ton carved stones. Like so many before us, our group pondered how those people 40-50 centuries removed, could have manipulated those stones into place. And the bigger question - Why?
When our 45 minutes were up, we were all dutifully on the bus checking our digital pictures and silently thinking about what we had just seen. As the bus began to move and we pulled away to head to the cathedral town of Salisbury, we watched the mysterious stones fade from our view.
Salisbury Cathedral was built in 38 years (a remarkably short time for such things) from 1220 to 1258 and still has the tallest spire in Great Britain, some 404 feet. This cathedral was built after the people moved from Old Sarum to be on higher ground. The tour group had barely enough time to see the cathedral, take a quick trip onto the medieval streets of the town, and be back to Phil for bus boarding, but like so much else on this tour we only got a sampling of the sights.
We arrived at our hotel in Plymouth where we had our first unremarkable dinner. Although we felt that the food on this trip was far less than gourmet, it was not the fault of Trafalgar, but unfortunately was the norm for most food in the U.K. There were a few exceptions, but darn few.
The next event was a boat ride along the River Tamar, first espying the Mayflower steps in the harbor where the persecuted pilgrims' Mayflower began its voyage to the New World. For Diana and me, it completed the circle as we had been to Cape Cod last year and viewed Plymouth Rock, where the same pilgrims allegedly stepped off the ship to begin their lives in America. The river cruise was entertaining with Cornwall on the far side and the Plymouth Royal Navy base on the other. Our bus met us downstream to continue a drive through the Cornish countryside to Land's End, then the St. Ives artists colony (of seven wives fame). We later rode onto the Bodmin moor where we stopped for a break at the "Jamaica Inn" , made famous by the Hitchcock-directed movie of the same name, based on the Daphne du Maurier novel.
We spent another night in the Plymouth hotel, and after an early full-English breakfast we headed for Glastonbury Abbey, or rather the ruins of. Seems when King Henry VIII wanted to dissolve the church, he had his men confiscate the wealth of the many abbeys, and then ravage some in the process.
Speaking of full English breakfasts, we were amused at the baked beans and bangers (sausage) that appeared daily, along with Black Pudding, which was the even more disgusting blood sausage. Pudding it was not, although the English seem to use the term wildly. Yorkshire pudding sounds like it will be sweet and milky and although much better than Black Pudding, was a disappointment unless you knew what was coming - a piece of fried batter. Sort of like drinking water from a Coke bottle. Not bad, but not what you expected.
This post is already a little long, so we'll pick up on the next stops in Bath, and then on to Cardiff, Wales in the next segment. Cheerio! (and that's not just a little round oat cereal either).
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