The last week has been busy with traveling--to and from Somerset, a day spent in Leicester, and two evenings in Birmingham. That plus my usual volunteering at the church and a very fun night out to see the new Indiana Jones has kept me away from this blog, so I feel the need to apologize for my silence. I also feel the need to spell apologize like "apologise." Something even more frightening is that when my "English sis" Julia and I were watching an American sitcom the other day, I watched the star get into the left-hand side driver's seat. "That looks weird now," I commented, then gasped. Julia merely smiled ominously. "You're becoming one of us," she said.
Here are photos from the bank holiday travels to Somerset, a southwestern county about three hours' drive from Nottingham. As mentioned below, I stayed in Cheddar with my friend Hannah's family, with views of the lovely Cheddar gorge from nearly every window in the house. We also took side trips to Bath and Bristol.
I climbed up the gorge one misty morning, which was an exhilirating, if slippery, experience.
We visited a friend's grandmother's home, which was once a manor house and is still a beautiful example of country living.
The interior of a 19th century manor house in Cheddar, Somerset. Note the massive fireplace at the far end of the room.
Hannah and Emily relax in the sunshine on the park before Bath's famous Royal Crescent buildings. Frequent viewers of Jane Austen films (such as myself) are sure to recognize these buildings and the park stretching down to the river.
Feeling the Regency love at the Jane Austen Centre in Bath. I didn't tour the museum (Austen's former home) on this visit, but did so on a previous visit and recommend it highly.
A street performer juggles flaming torches on a 10-foot unicycle in front of Bath's pump rooms, as my brave friend Emily prepares to throw the third flaming torch at him.
The main body of the Bristol cathedral was actually constructed in Victorian times, but the architects did a fine job of imitating the Gothic style. Here my friend Emily is reading the many memorial plaques on the walls, many dating back 300 or 400 years.
Emily peers up at the 900-year-old stone carvings in this 12th century chapter house in Bristol Cathedral. The Cathedral began life as an Augustinian monastery.
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