Wilding out West

Our flash bang Cotswolds supermarket sweep continued with some of the area’s greatest hits:

Bourton-on-the-Water, The Slaughters, and Stow on the Wold.

The NAMES, the names.

Each town is cozy, cute, and full of beautiful buildings in that creamy Cotswolds stone.



I truly could not tell them apart at this point, either. Soz. Just imagine lots of tromping around in sheep-filled fields, going over tiny wee bridges, and tons and tons of tour buses. It was chilly and not particularly nice, so I shudder to think how crammed those places get in high summer. Phew.











Then we went to Sudeley Castle, which is another funny one. I feel like once you get used to the ol’ National Trust property, any privately owned places are going to be weird. This was absolutely no exception. Sudeley is known for being the former home of Catherine Parr, final wife of Henry VIII (to recap: divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived—huzzah it’s Catherine Parr!). It’s also had a strange reno with some dusty “exhibitions” that were not overly interesting. Either way, it was a quick visit and the grounds, with ruins from the original castle, were beautiful.





And finally, we started the somewhat inexplicably complicated drive to Wales. I don’t know. Neither of us had been to Wales before, and we saw our opportunity to take a quick jaunt out west and just put a toe over the border.



I’d found a very eccentric inn to stay at near Monmouth, so we made our way there. I’d love to go back and really SEE the place, but it was a nice taste of a region that is really fucking into dragons.

Cracking

...the CODE, get it?

Alright, so. Last we joined our heroes, we were making our way onto a train headed north west-ish of London to rent a car and head out into the... drizzle. English weather, man.

Bletchley Park is around the corner from the car rental place, which is also across the street from the train station. So if you're interested in seeing where Alan Turing worked, and where men and women devoted years to breaking Nazi codes during WWII, you definitely don't need a car to get there.

We got there right as the doors opened (startled the nice old man nearly to death) and had the place to ourselves. My only real Bletchley knowledge all comes straight from The Bletchley Circle and The Imitation Game. But it turns out those both do a pretty good job of painting what it was like to live and work in secret for years on end.



I have one single picture of the property because it was gray and chilly, and there's nothing overly picturesque about concrete bunkers. Also, as someone who barely passed math, I'm admittedly not interested in the intricacies of codes, code breaking, and early computing. But the people who work there are PASSIONATE about sharing what they know. So I could see how someone would easily spend an entire day exploring the grounds.

The two non-math gals did a quick pass and headed out to Stowe.

Stowe! Now we're talking.

Stowe is one of the most stunning gardens I've ever seen in my life (it's Capability Brown, so). And the nearby non-National Trust Stowe HOUSE is actually a boarding school that offers tours.

And what you will learn on said tour is that the school has four different houses. With different colored ties. Is this reminding you of anything?



The little binders on the stairs! Because kids live there and leave their shit lying around! God I was in love.



From Stowe we drove to Blenheim Palace, which is a huge motherfucker of a place to visit.

The deal with Blenheim is it's the seat of the dukes of Marlborough, and Winston Churchill is a relative in there somewhere. It's also extremely touristy—Bill Bryson, my grumpy road trip icon—warns of the weirdo upstairs wing where you go through some kind of automated museum thing? We opted not to check it out and I'm happier for it.



I love visiting houses where the family still lives, because it feels... well, alive. It's also interesting as an American, because the Vanderbilts married into the family back in the Downton Abbey days. So it's a piece of my history, too.



Then we cracked on to the Cotswolds.

I'd found a cozy-looking little spot, The Wheatsheaf, in one of the less insanely overrun places in the region. And it was perfect. We wandered around the town for a bit, then had a refreshing drink (or five), followed by a fantastic dinner.

Escape to the Country

Alright, you guys know the drill by now: There's nothing like a road trip through the English countryside with your mother. So after the first official road trip of '15, Mom and I set our sights on a sequel. And boy did we deliver.

While last trip was incredible, there was also looots of driving. So this time we made a monster map of our UK Bucketlist (I also added the National Trust's official map as a layer—do not be alarmed). And planned out a route that would only require a few hours driving a day, at the very most. The only disappointment was that we booked the flights before I realized Downton Abbey was CLOSED the whole of our trip. AUUGHHHHRRRRRGGGGGGGGGG. I guess I'll have to go back.

The 2017 itinerary as follows:



Three nights in London, staying at the beautiful Hoxton Shoreditch.

Then taking the train from good ol’ London to Milton Keynes. From there we’d pick up a car and see Bletchley Park. Then we’d drive to the Cotswolds, stopping at Stowe and Blenheim Palace on the way to the Wheatsheaf Inn.

Then we’d spend the morning seeing Bourton-on-the-Water, The Slaughters, and Stow on the Wold [can we TALK about the fucking NAMES of these TOWNS guys], hitting up Sudeley Castle, before dipping our toes over the border into Monmouth, Wales.

After a morning visit to Chepstow Castle, we’d hightail it allll the way to Kent. Because we were going to stay in Hever Motherfucking Castle for two nights. With a side jaunt to Chartwell, Sissinghurst and Canterbury for good measure.

THEN after the Penshurst gardens (would love to go back and see inside, waaah), we’d head back to London for two nights. And Mom, adventuress that she is, would continue on to Scotland while I winged my way back home.

It was PACKED but we did it. GLORIOUS.



Here's a few routine tips:
1. If you're American, join the Royal Oak Foundation. Membership runs from about $35-75/year and that grants free entry to all National Trust properties. If you visit just two properties, that pays for itself.
2. Reserve an automatic car, even if you drive stick. There's nothing like the mindfuck of driving on the wrong side on teeny tiny country lanes. I can't even imagine trying to shift with my wrong hand, too. And if you also don't drive often (me), see about picking up the car outside of the city center. We ended up with a cheaper car and no traffic—plus a little trip to Bletchley.
3. England in the spring is a total toss up weather-wise, but you're almost certainly going to need wellies. I packed TWO PAIRS and made use of them even on dry days, because we did a fair amount of tromping through the fields.
Want to see what we got up to in London?

The first stop was Kew Gardens. I had my new Fuji x100S, so you may notice some uh, slight quality difference between those and the iPhone shots.



Return to a common theme: start every day with a full English, and refuel in the afternoons with tea and sconces. It's science.



Then, of course, some Borough Market.





Had a little wander around the Wallace Collection.



And then a trip to Notting Hill.

Part of the trip was to celebrate my 30th birthday. And so I give you: A pearl necklace present.

I scheduled a birthday lunch at Brawn, smack dab in the middle of Columbia Road during the flower market. It was incredible. But the best part about the market is, you have to find it first.



We all know I'm a sucker for markets. So the next one was the Sunday UpMarket.



Then Leadenhall—which is pretty boring on Sundays.



And THEN it was time to see Romeo and Juliet at the Globe. I'd seen King Lear there ages ago (highly recommend springing for a seat during the tragedies), but this was infinitely more interesting. They modernized it and incorporated way more audience interaction. So with my mulled wine and bag of wine gums, I was happy as... well, a clam.



Next stop: Bletchley Park, home of the WWII Codebreakers and many ducks.