S and J Take Edinburgh: Part 2

Onward we go.

When last I left you, Julia and I were trekking our way down the Royal Mile, no small feat on those centuries-old cobblestones, dodging bagpipers and silver hawkers on the street.

But we made it, finally, to the place I had long wanted to visit: The Palace of Holyroodhouse.

As I mentioned yesterday, this was my fourth visit to Edinburgh, but I had yet to see Holyroodhouse because the Queen, bless her, was usually in residence every time I'd been there. And for some reason, the Queen doesn't want us Commoners tromping around her house when she's home.

Go figure.

But this time, I went early enough (the Queen is usually in Scotland in July) that we could tour the castle. I was so glad we did!

This is the entrance. Impressive, huh?

And this is the main courtyard (the forecourt?) where just this week the Queen was greeted by 100 Guardsmen in kilts. Lucky girl!

We weren't supposed to take pictures inside the Palace, but I'm a rule breaker (just ask my husband) and I snuck this one of the inner courtyard. I can just imagine little Prince George playing on the grass.

Julia and I enjoyed our tour of the Palace. It's smaller and more accessible, I think, than many of the Royal Residences. I could just imagine the Royal family eating breakfast in the dining room or hanging out on the patio. Sadly, they wouldn't let us see the apartments, but I think we got a good sense of what life at Holyrood would be like.

Once outside, we walked through Holyrood Abbey, where they allowed us to take pictures. What a stunning ruin of this small chapel.

Once outside, we could walk around the grounds to see where the Royal family would greet guests--all 8,000 of them--at a tea party to celebrate the opening of Holyrood Week, a week the family spends in Scotland every year. In the picture below, you can see the huge, white tent that they are already setting up for the event.

 You can also see, in the picture above, the hill they call Arthur's Seat, a very popular spot to hike in the middle of the city.

Of course, after walking all the way down the Royal Mile and through two castles, Julia and I were getting a wee bit tired, but we both said that as long as we were there we should at least see what all the fuss was about.

So we climbed. Not all the way to the top, but high enough to get these amazing views.

Let's recap our day, shall we? Just in case you can't keep up. We had already toured Edinburgh Castle, walked down the Royal Mile, ate lunch at a cute tea shop, and toured The Palace of Holyroodhouse. Once we finished our hike (about 45 minutes), we were absolutely gassed, but our B&B host had assured us that our hotel was "just around the corner" from Arthur's Seat, so we started walking again.

We walked.

And we walked.

And we walked.

We even took a moment to sit down and assess where we had been.

Let me tell you, our B&B was nowhere to be found "right around the corner"!

We finally found a set of steps that seemed to lead to a neighborhood, so we took them. Good call, because a couple of blocks later we found the bus that would take us to our B&B.

Where we rested. For about 30 minutes.

Because soon it was time to go find the very thing we had come to Edinburgh to do and we were NOT going to miss it: the Harry Potter walking tour.

Yes, I said "walking."

We took the bus to the area where we would meet up with our group, and despite the fact that we were completely exhausted, we would not be deterred. We were going to find Harry Potter no matter what!

Well, we didn't find Harry, but we did find a whole lot of other interesting sites having to do with Harry.

Like the cemetery where J.K. Rowling got a lot of names for the characters in her books.

And Voldemort's grave. (I'll just leave this for the true HP fans to figure out.)

And this other grave that has nothing to do with Harry Potter, but I just liked it for reasons that will be obvious to people who know me.

We saw The Elephant House, the coffee shop where many believe J.K. Rowling wrote the first Harry Potter book.

But, actually, our tour guide told us that J.K. herself has since confirmed that, although she DID write some of her books at The Elephant House, the first book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, was conceived at Spoon, the upstairs coffee shop shown here.

Do with that whatever you want.

Our tour took us to Victoria Place, the street that probably spurred the idea for Diagon Alley.

And ended up at the City Council building where all of the famous people from Edinburgh have placed their hands in the walk of fame. All eight of them.

At the end of our tour, we were so glad we did it. It was a lot of walking and not as much talking as we would have liked, but still, it was fun to see some of the places that inspired someone to write some of the most imaginative and incredible books of our time.

That night we fell into bed, but not before we watched the old men play bocce outside our window.

Oh, Edinburgh, I do love you. I'll be back someday.

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Thanks for reading along on my most recent adventure. If you'd like to keep up with my everyday adventures, just sign up to receive updates via email. And I'd love it if you'd share my adventures with a friend. 

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Here are all the posts in my most recent series:
S and J Take London: Part 1
S and J Take London: Part 2
S and J Take Oxford
S and J Take Edinburgh: Part 1

S and J Take Edinburgh: Part 1

So after four whirlwind days in London and two glorious days in Oxford, we departed on the last leg of our journey: Edinburgh.

Edinburgh was Julia's pick, being the Harry Potter fan that she is, because she wanted to see where it all began. To walk in the footsteps of J.K. Rowling, if you will. And walk in her footsteps we did, as you will see.

But first (and, sadly, I don't have any pictures to show you of this), we took a six hour train ride from Oxford to Edinburgh. If you've never taken a cross country train ride (or even a car ride) across the U.K., you're really missing out because the landscape changes right before your very eyes, growing more and more lovely the farther north you go.

And then you reach Scotland. Ahhhh. As you climb into Scotland the terrain becomes much more rugged, green patches dotted with grazing sheep, and you can really picture Robert the Bruce leading his pack of warriors across the fields to meet the English army. It's astounding how much has not changed in Scotland through the years (of course, I'm sure the people who live there would tell you differently).

We arrived in Edinburgh around 4 p.m. in a slight drizzle, caught a cab to our B&B, and were immediately struck by the wonderful kindness of the Scottish people. Our cab driver chatted us up through the entire drive, telling us this and that about the University and other sites we were passing, and our B&B host, Ross, was absolutely wonderful. In fact, everyone we met in Scotland was cheerful, kind, and helpful. These people are genuinely lovely, and they make me want to spend more time in their country.

Here's another great thing about Scotland: it hardly ever gets dark there in the summer, so you can pack a lot into your day. In fact, we went to sleep with the sun still shining and we woke up in the morning to sunshine. I love that! (This picture was taken at about 9:00 p.m. Doesn't it look like mid-afternoon?)

Anyway, since it was getting later in the day and we were starving from our trip, Julia and I headed toward the Royal Mile for dinner. We hadn't had an pizza on our trip yet, so we indulged our American tastebuds and ate at Pizza Express. Yum!

*Edited to add: How could I forget?! After our pizza we took a very interesting tour that our B&B host had told us about: The Real Mary King's Close, which was a walk through a long-buried neighborhood of Edinburgh--it actually got buried underneath a building!--with some history of the Black Death and the very difficult life of peasants in the 1600s thrown in for good measure. Eeep! Kinda creepy, lotta touristy, but fun for a laugh.

After The Real Mary King's Close tour, our legs could barely carry us any further, so we headed back to our B&B, 23 Mayfield, for a good night's rest. I forgot to take a picture of the outside of our B&B, but here's a picture of our room--so comfortable and well-appointed. We loved it!

And check out this view from our window!

That's the back garden where guests can sit and enjoy a dip in the hot tub or a glass of wine. Lovely.

The next morning, after a fantastic breakfast at our hotel, we were ready to tackle Edinburgh, and tackle it we did since it was our last day of sightseeing. We had a full agenda. Surprised?!

First up, Edinburgh Castle at the top of the Royal Mile.

No trip to Edinburgh is complete without visiting the castle. Julia and I bought audio guides, which give you lots of great information, but you could also take a free guided tour. Whatever you do, take some kind of tour when you're there because there is so much history.

And the views cannot be beat.

My favorite place in the castle is the apartment of Mary Queen of Scots where Mary gave birth to her only son, James VI, who later became James I of England and translated the Bible into what we now know as the King James Version.

This was my fourth visit to the Castle, which is why I didn't take many pictures, but I saw exhibits that I had never seen before. The prison exhibit was new to me and really interesting.

Next on our list: walk the Royal Mile.

The Royal Mile is a steep, cobblestone street full of history. And shops. And tourist traps. But still, I love it. It's where B and I saw J.K. Rowling herself back in 2005.

Julia and I meandered our way down the Mile, taking our time, ducking into woolen shops, and trying on hats.

(Sorry, Julia, I couldn't resist!)

(And besides, she's at camp and won't see this for several weeks.)

We were nearing the bottom of the Royal Mile around lunch time and happened upon the cutest little tea room, Clarinda's, where we felt like we had stepped back in time. The tiny restaurant still looked like it probably did 30 years ago, with prices to match!

It was such a respite for us--a hearty sandwich and a pot of tea were just the ticket--that it became one of my favorite memories of the trip. And check out these homemade goodies!

One of those scones just might have become ours. With clotted cream and jam, of course.

Next up: Holyrood House, Arthur's Seat, and a Harry Potter tour.

Please come back tomorrow for more of our trip to Edinburgh. And I'd love it if you'd invite a friend or two along! 

S and J Take Oxford

I realize that I haven't finished updating you about our trip. Last week kind of got away from me, but this week I plan to finish my updates, of which there are two more.

If you want to read about the London part of our trip, click here and here.

*****

Here's something I noticed about London on this trip. Back in the '80s, the first time I visited London, I found it charming because the city, in fact, the whole country, seemed about 20 years behind America. I liked that I could still find Mom and Pop stores and that people still slowed down enough to pop into a tea shop for a good cup of tea in the middle of the afternoon.

What I noticed this time is that London has caught up. No longer does the city seem a little slower-paced than the cities here. The people are just as fast-walking as New Yorkers. Look out or they'll mow you down! The stores look just like American stores. In fact, we walked past a Five Guys in London (and, no, we did not eat there).

I'll say they've caught up!

(Side note: Everything in London looked especially spruced up. It was so clean and so easy to get around this time. I wondered if this was a result of the Olympics. Anyone have an opinion on this?)

So, after the fast pace, noise, and congestion of the Big City, Julia and I were glad to make our way to Oxford to start the second half of our trip.

Oxford is one of my favorite cities in England for several reasons. The history. The University. The architecture. The bookstores. The back alleyways. I could go on and on. Oxford is lovely, and if you've never been to Oxford, you really should give it a couple of days on your next trip.

We left London early on a Sunday morning, caught our train to Oxford, and made our way to our B&B--the Cotswold Lodge Hotel.

Let me just say that everything about our stay there was perfect. When we arrived, the woman at the desk was so sweet to us. Our room (an upgrade!) wasn't quite ready since we were early, but she stored our bags while we took off to explore. Once in our room, we were wowed! It was huge--even the bathroom!--and very comfortable.

Plus, it was just down the street from the house I had stayed in when I studied in Oxford in college.

Boy, did that place bring back memories!

Our first order of business was to take a walking tour of Oxford, which was fun, especially getting to see inside some of the colleges.

After the walking tour, we walked some more--over to Christ Church to see the famous dining hall after which the Hogwarts dining hall was modeled.

And we both fell in love with this in Oxford:

I totally want one for tooling around our town.

Our second day in Oxford was so much fun. We started out early at the rental car place, and soon we were off to explore the Cotswolds.

We started in Minster Lovell, a beautiful little village I had seen once before and wanted Julia to see. There is a ruin of an ancient manor home here that I think would make the perfect setting for a magazine spread. This place is magical.

We drove around a bit after exploring Minster Lovell, and made it to Whitney in time for lunch with Sarah of Modern Country Style. Yes, there was a blog meet-up in the Cotswolds! I've already shared a bit about that here, but let's just say that Sarah is such a dear and I already miss her. Visiting her was like visiting a long-time friend. I could have stayed for hours.

But we had more countryside to see, so we sadly said goodbye to Sarah and went on our way.

Much of our afternoon was spent driving, just seeing the beautiful Cotswolds countryside.

We did, however, make a stop in Bampton to see a couple of Downton Abbey shooting locations. This is the church where Mary and Matthew got married and where Edith got left at the altar.

We also found a village that Julia had researched called Bibury. What an absolutely charming place!

Along the way we saw more Cotswolds limestone buildings than we could count, each one prettier than the next.

And now, for those of you who have bothered to read this far, I have a humiliating funny story to tell you.

It was the end of our day, and I had gotten quite used to driving on the left hand side of the road. In fact, I had gotten just a bit cocky, because as I was driving into our very last village (the one I had wanted to see), I said to Julia, "You know, I think I'm getting the hang of this driving on the left thing. I'm getting pretty good at it. You always think you're going to hit something and then you don't!"

Famous last words.

Not 30 seconds after I said that, BANG!

"What was that?!" I screamed.

I glanced over to my left and saw that the passenger side mirror had flipped in toward the car and was completely shattered. I looked in my rear view mirror and saw that I had hit the mirror of a parked car, and a piece of said mirror was lying on the ground.

After a few tense moments, during which a choice word or two that my daughter had never heard me utter before in her life may or may not have flown from my lips, I turned the car around in the middle of the street to see what I had done. Yep, I had hit the mirror of a parked car because I didn't give myself enough room to go around it.

All I could think was, "What am I going to do? How do these things work in foreign countries?" If I were at home, and the driver wasn't around, I could just leave a note on the car with my phone number, and we'd figure it out later. But A) I wasn't from there and B) I didn't have a phone number I could leave and C) I didn't know what the heck to do.

In the end, Julia and I found a place to park, walked back to the car to inspect the damage, found out that the plastic piece that had fallen from the mirror actually snapped back in place, fixed it, and left the village immediately.

We didn't even get to walk around because we were too flustered by what had happened.

I guess I'll have to visit the Cotswolds again sometime.

S and J Take London: Part 2

You may recall from yesterday that Julia and I were last seen running and eating our way through London. Boy, that sure didn't happen when I first visited in 1984! My first "meal" was a cheese sandwich on white bread. And things didn't get much better after that. The London food scene has come a loooong way, baby!

Onward.

Friday included a trip to the Tower of London where our Yeoman Warder was none other than Dickie Dover--the same guide B and I (along with my sister, Jenn, and brother-in-law, Tom) had when we visited in 2005! At the end of our tour I mentioned this to him, and he told me that next year he will be retiring from his post after 40 years. Amazing!

I just love the Tower and all of its stories and history. They've added a marker so you can see the spot where Anne Boleyn lost her head. And Mary Queen of Scots. And Kathryn Howard. And . . .

One of the main things that Julia and I wanted to do on our trip was a bicycle tour, and we had scheduled that for Friday afternoon because the weather looked like it was going to be nice. We were not disappointed--the weather could not have been better and the bike tour amazing. A little scary at times, but after a while we got the hang of it--London drivers aren't the most patient with cyclists--and really enjoyed our tour. If you're ever in London, definitely try the Fat Tire Bike Tour. Totally fun.

Saturday started out rainy, so we decided to go grab some breakfast at one of our favorite little spots: The Muffin Man. I had taken my other girls there, and they insisted that I take Julia. Nothing special, just a very sweet tea room where we had some lovely scrambled eggs on an English muffin.

After breakfast, it was starting to rain a little harder, so, rather than head to Portobello Road as planned, we decided to visit a couple of museums in the morning while we waited for the rain to clear. Good call.

We visited the Victoria and Albert--my favorite--and the British Museum because Julia had read about the cool stuff there including the Rosetta Stone and this guy:

By late morning the rain had cleared, so we made our way to Portobello Road and the wonderful market there. Sure, it's crowded. Sure, it's touristy. Sure, it's overpriced. But it's fun!

And, besides, one of my favorite movies is based there.

By now, of course, our feet were killing us, so we took the bus to Kensington Palace where we had tea at The Orangery. Perfect!

After tea, we walked back to our hotel to pack up and get ready for the next leg of our journey: Oxford and the Cotswolds.

Come on back tomorrow for the next part of our amazing adventure!

*****

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S and J Take London: Part 1

[Warning: I'm a foodie, and there just might be a theme to this post. And some pictures of food. Do not read on an empty stomach.]

Two weeks ago, my daughter, Julia, and I set out on an amazing adventure--a similar-yet-different trip to the one her sisters and I took when each of them turned 16. Sadly, I'm out of teenagers now, so this special mother/daughter trip time of my life is now coming to a close.

*sniff sniff*

So, we left Chicago for London where we made South Kensington our home for a few days. I had never stayed in that neighborhood before, but I liked it. Our hotel was close to the tube, restaurants, and museums.

And one of the coolest French patisseries I've ever seen: Aux Merveilleux. They specialize in two things and two things only: brioche and merangue. And they do those two things very well.

We might have stopped there more than once.

We arrived on a Wednesday morning, got settled into our room, and took off to get money, coffee, and wifi access. We were getting pretty tired from our overnight flight, but we were determined to simply keep going on Wednesday--the best way to fight off jet lag. First stop: Harrods, which was pretty much down the street and which we found once we got on the right bus. We "ooohed" and "aaahhed" our way through the most expensive department store in the world, but only ended up buying a cupcake.

The rest of the day was a lesson in frustration. We had hopped on a red tour bus, hoping to get a good overview of the city while simply staying awake, but traffic was absolutely not cooperating. Apparently, the Queen had left the palace to open Parliament earlier that day, and this played havoc on traffic. At one point we spent about 45 minutes in essentially one spot. And they wouldn't let us get off the bus!

If you know me, you can just imagine the scenario.

We finally got moving, so Julia and I decided to stay on the bus until we got to Covent Garden where we would enjoy our first meal. British comfort food. Ahhhh.

After a delicious meal of steak and ale pie and our first (of this trip!) sticky toffee pudding, we headed back to our room to sleep soundly.

The next day was amazing. Let me just say right off the bat that those of you who enjoy lying on the beach for hours on end would probably hate traveling with me, but my feeling is that if I'm somewhere incredible I want to see as much as I can see and do as much as I can do while I'm there.

I can sleep when I get home.

And soak my feet.

So Thursday was a flurry of activity. We started at St. Paul's Cathedral.

We walked to Shakespeare's Globe Theater to take a little tour.

After the Globe, it was time for lunch at my happy place in London: Borough Market.

Borough Market is a foodie paradise filled with fresh produce . . .

. . . cheese . . .

. . .  and the tastiest grilled cheese sandwich you will ever eat.

We needed to walk off our delicious lunch, so we decided to stroll along the South Bank toward the London Eye. Very fun! This was a new perspective of the city for me, one I really enjoyed.

We thought we would try to take a flight on the London Eye, but when we got there, the line was crazy. Like two or three hours crazy. There was no way we were going to waste that kind of time, so we left the Eye and hopped back on the red tour bus to finish our tour of London. Besides, our feet needed a break.

We got off the bus near Westminster Abbey, one of my favorite places in London. Thankfully Julia thought it was pretty great too, so we spent a bit of time wandering around there. In fact, we closed the place down!

Our feet were getting tired, but that didn't stop us from hiking it up to Leicester Square to the TKTS booth to get tickets for a show. We ended up getting tickets to see "Matilda," which we absolutely enjoyed. Very much.

After the show, however, our feet would not carry us any further. We were beat, so we caught a cab to take us back to our hotel. And here's where our interesting day got even more interesting.

As we were driving, I was pointing out various sights to Julia. We turned down The Mall, heading toward Buckingham Palace, chit chatting with our driver about all the traffic we had encountered the day before due to the Queen's little visit to Parliament. Suddenly, we noticed that there was no traffic coming toward us on the opposite side of the road. And then we noticed two policemen on motorbikes, leading some sort of motorcade (not, by the way, the first motorcade we had seen that day--those Royals were out and about!). I nudged Julia and said, "Look, someone's coming. Wouldn't it be funny if it was the Queen?!"

Um. Yeah. It was the Queen.

We couldn't miss her because she was wearing a bright, chartreuse dress with, of course, matching hat. And sitting beside her, in full military regalia, was her husband, Prince Phillip. Right there! Not twenty feet from us on the other side of the road. (I learned later that they were on their way to a ceremony to commemorate the 70th anniversary of the D-Day launchings.)

Even the cab driver was a little gobsmacked.

[Side note: This was not my first Queen sighting. I also happened upon her in 2005 during a parade to celebrate VE Day. She and Prince Phillip were riding in a carriage, and Charles and Camilla were riding in a carriage right behind them. Double sighting!]

OK, I realize this is getting long, so tomorrow I'll give you a slightly briefer overview of the next two days.

*****

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*****

Queen photo credit.

All other photos are mine.

I'm Back!

Hello there! It's been a while, but I'm back and have lots to tell you.

Where have I been? See if you can guess.

A land of pomp and ceremony.

A land of afternoon traditions.

A land of beautiful cathedrals . . .

. . . and historic theaters.

A land where old meets new . . .

. . . but where the old usually wins out.

A land of amazing vistas . . .

. . . and real, live castles.

A land that I love . . . almost as much as my own.

I'll share more of my trip with you throughout this week, perhaps with some travel tips that can help you plan your own trip to the United Kingdom. It's such a great place to visit!

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P.S. Here's what you're looking at:

1. Guard outside the Crown Jewels at the Tower of London.
2. Scones with clotted cream and jam at The Orangery, Kensington Palace.
3. St. Paul's Cathedral, London.
4. The Globe Theatre, London.
5. The London Eye and Big Ben.
6. Minster Lovell in the Cotswolds.
7. The Cotswolds.
8. The Palace of Holyrood House, Edinburgh.

For the Love of England - Part 3

Falling in love is a funny thing; one minute you think one thing is the ABSOLUTE BEST about the person (or in my case, the place) you love, and the next minute you notice something else that is even better. And thus it goes. Love building, growing. For me, back in the summer of 1984, falling in love with England happened immediately and gradually--both at the same time.

I immediately loved the sidewalks. Large flagstones set into concrete. Fancy. Proper. Not just plain, nondescript concrete like you have here. No, these are intentionally pretty sidewalks.

I immediately loved the architecture. History just there for the taking. Everywhere.

I immediately loved the accessibility to art and theatre and music. All of England appreciates the arts.

But much of my love affair with England happened gradually on that first trip as we drove from location to location, town to town, the landscape unfolding before me.

Oh my, the landscape.

I had grown up in the flatlands--the Midwestern plains of Illinois where all you can see for miles is row after row after row of cornstalks waving in the breeze, only broken up by the occasional farmhouse. To see lush greenery and softly rolling hillsides bordered by ancient stone fences (Who put those stones there anyway? What were their lives like?) was inspiring to say the least, life-changing to say the most.

The landscape of England is brilliantly varied, and I've had the privilege of seeing much of it--from the stark, white cliffs of Dover to the jagged fells of the Lake District. All of it beautiful, whether in full sunlight or underneath grey clouds. God has definitely kissed the green fields of England.

I recall one day, on that first trip of mine, as we were riding in our coach (English word for bus) through a particularly gorgeous part of the country. I stared out the window--green hills dotted with small stone cottages and fields of sheep--overcome by the beauty.

I knew deep within me that I would be back someday--I HAD to be back someday--with someone I loved. I got up out of my seat and walked to the front of the bus to talk to the driver. "Where are we right now?" I asked. He said something quickly that I did not understand.

(Note: I have since realized something about the English language. Even though we technically speak the same language as those in the U.K., there is a bit of a delay in understanding exactly what some people--particularly those from the North--are saying. It's like there's a two or three second delay between their speaking and my comprehending. This is especially true in Scotland where, for me, the delay is more like six minutes.)

So I didn't quite get what the driver had said. I asked him to repeat it. He again mumbled something that I took to mean "Darbuhshr."

I went back to my seat and checked my map but couldn't find a single place in England that even remotely looked like "Darbuhshr." There was a county called "Derbyshire" which, in my Midwestern twang comes out sounding pretty much like it's spelled: "Derby Shire." (I later found out that what I would call "Derby Shire" is actually pronounced sort of like "Darbuhshr." But without the hard "r" sound.)

Whatever. I just knew that somehow, some way, I would have to make my way back to that part of the country. A rolling, green-hilled county somewhere in the middle of England. The most beautiful place that I had ever seen in my 20 years of life, and for that matter, one of the most beautiful I have ever seen to this day.

Fast forward 26 years. I finally made it back to Derbyshire.

And I got to share it with someone I love.

Tell me, where is a place you would share with someone you love if you could?

For the Love of England

The very first meal I ate on British soil came from a food cart near a sidewalk on a busy street in London. The man who sold it to me (30 pence!) wore a newspaperman’s cap and got impatient with me when I couldn’t figure out the coins.

Nothing fancy, nothing exotic. Just a slice of cheddar cheese squished between two slices of white bread with maybe a little butter on it, but I’ll let you in on a little secret: it was the best sandwich I’ve ever eaten.

I was a 21-year-old college student, far away from my family for the first time and had just flown across the Atlantic with the group from my college with whom I’d be studying and sharing the summer. First stop: London.

My roommate and I dropped our bags in our hotel room, grabbed the girls from across the hall, and headed out to explore. None of us had been in London before, and none of us had any clue where we were going, but, armed with a few pounds in our pockets and an insatiable sense of independence, we ventured forth.

To the sandwich cart on the street below.

And that’s pretty much where our independent adventure ended for the day because as we were munching on white bread sandwiches, jet lag hit us right between the eyes and none of us could walk a step further.

But in that moment, sun streaming down on us (confusing me even further because isn’t London supposed to be rainy?), I fell in love. And this has been a love story that has spanned nearly three decades and six visits (and counting!).

I’m not sure I’d consider myself an Anglophile. I know some things about the United Kingdom, but not as much as a true Anglophile would. I’ve visited a few times and have a pretty good understanding of how to get around, even while driving on the left-hand side of the road. But I’m often overcome by how much I don’t know about England and how much I’d still like to know. So I don’t call myself an Anglophile (too often, anyway).

What I do know is this: a long time ago I visited a place that captured my heart. A place that I have shared with many and still wish to share with others. A place that is as calming and as beautiful and as soul-saddening as any I’ve ever visited. A place that calls my name every year about this time.

I’d like to share a little bit of my love for that place with you over the next few weeks in a series I’m calling “For the Love of England.” I hope you’ll come along as I explain why I love that place and why I keep going back. Maybe you'll fall in love too!

In the meantime, tell me . . . is there a place that has gotten under your skin? Where is it and why do you love it? Share in the comments!