Anyway, I promised to tell about my adventures of late. First of all, when I returned to England, my good friend Laura was here waiting for me. She had spent a couple of days in London and was ready to explore the fabulous English countryside. We rented a car and the adventure began. We spent one day driving through the splendid Cotswold Hills. We visited Blenheim Palace, the ancestral home of Winston Churchill’s family. It was beautiful and the gardens were stunning. Then we just wandered around in the car, taking little one-lane country roads to perfectly quaint little villages. The Cotswold villages fit pretty much every stereotype for an English village. The roofs are usually thatched, the houses built of stone, the stone churches surrounded by crumbling gravestones. Yep, pretty much perfect. Combine that with rolling hills covered with grazing sheep and a patchwork of colors and you have some of the most picturesque places I’ve ever been.
This is Blenheim Palace. I chose this picture because I look pretty.
Like I said, spectacular scenery.
After our Cotswold adventure, Laura and I were sure nothing could beat it for beauty. We were, however, wrong. There are worse things to be wrong about I think. The next day we left early in the morning to drive to Devon and Cornwall. These two counties are renowned throughout England for their beauty and it is easy to understand why. We wandered around again and stopped at a couple of towns to walk around and stroll along the promenade at the sea (not the ocean). We eventually ended up in Dartmouth where we decided to spend the night. We found a delicious little B&B and then went for a pub meal. After dinner, we decided to take a walk and were rewarded for our efforts with some of the most romantic moments I’ve ever shared with anyone. Too bad it was once again with a girl, and a Giddens girl at that. (Laura’s sister is Amanda, my old roommate with whom I’ve walked many a moonlit beach, strolled through magnificently winding European streets, and shared an uncomfortably small bed on multiple occasions.) Dartmouth sits on a beautiful little harbor and there are sailboats anchored all around. Laura and I happened to be there during the full moon and it looked magical reflecting on the water. The next day we took a little ferry to the village of Dittisham where we wandered around for a couple of hours. Then we went back to Dartmouth and got the car. We decided to drive down the Cornish coast to Fowey where Daphne du Maurier spent much of her life. The drive there couldn’t have been more beautiful. We again found ourselves on single-track roads, which seemed impossibly narrow, yet somehow didn’t get hit by any of the oncoming cars we passed. It was absolutely stunning. The banks along the road were covered with wildflowers and it seemed as if the top of every hill offered vistas even more beautiful than the last. I was in heaven. We eventually reached Fowey and meandered through the little village by the sea. Fromthere,we drove home, just skirting the famous moors spoken of in Jamaica Inn. I loved the entire journey. I have decided that further exploration of Devon and Cornwall is absolutely necessary. Any takers?
This path reminded me of the azalea and rhododendron path in Rebecca.
I can’t remember the name of this place, but it was somewhere in Devon.
This was on our way to Dartmouth just outside of wherever the last picture was.
This is lovely Dartmouth harbor.
This is the view from the hillside in Dittisham.
Here is the beautiful harbor of Fowey.
I liked this shot because it looks like a painting.
No comments:
Post a Comment