I'm Never Coming Back

I've found my perfect place in life. We arrived in the Lake District yesterday evening and it is my favorite place. I realize that I describe everything on my trip as just. so. beautiful, but the Lake District is the realization of every idyllic vision of England a person could have. The hills are so green and they're criss-crossed with stone fences that keep in all the sheep. I love the sheep! Especially the little black ones. I'll post pictures when I can.

We're staying on a farm outside Keswick. The farmhouse was built in the 17th century and the big wooden beams still cross the ceiling in the sitting room. Our bedroom looks out onto sheep and mountains. This morning we got sent off full of hot English breakfast--eggs and bacon and sausage and tomatoes and mushrooms and toast.

We attended church in Workington today (on the west coast of England) after getting thoroughly lost and having to ask directions of the locals. Once we actually arrived, they absolutely loved us up there. They hugged us and gave us candy and begged us to stay and one man offered to take me to Gretna Green and marry me. Amid the lovefest, I had this conversation with a group of older people, which I found amusing:

Kindly British Person: Oh, you could stay here. You could come stay with us. If you stay, you can have whatever you want!

MBC: I want a sheep farm with a sheep dog and some wellies to wear.

Kindly British Person: We can arrange that!

MBC: And I need a husband [put it out there when you have the chance in Britain].

Kindly British Person: We can get you one!

MBC: Can you? Because no one else has managed that.

KBP: (turning away from me) David! Where's David? (turning back) He's 28.

MBC: Oh, that would be okay (although older would be better)

Then the Kindly British Person and another person in the group conjectured over how much David had been kissed in his past and they finally decided between them that however much he'd been kissed, he could marry me. David himself did not get to weigh in on this because he was on the other side of the room bouncing little boys on his knees.

Bath

Renting our townhouse in Bath may be the smartest thing I have ever done. Ever. We are so happy to be in a flat where we can unpack for two weeks and use our kitchen to cook our own meals and bbq in our garden. The Coordinatrix and I are staying in the bedroom off the master bedroom, which is tiny but cute—vaulted ceiling and rounded doorways. I’m sleeping on the trundle bed, and the whole situation is very elementary school slumber party. And there are books in the house. Our living room has a bookcase full of books that I mostly don't want to read, but still . . . Books.

Yesterday we went to church and met lots of locals. One man came up to us and said, Hello, girlies. What’s your pleasure? And then we all stared at him because we had no idea what he was talking about or if this was a standard UK greeting. We never did manage to make the conversation normal. A woman with three children drove us home after our meetings and her little children were darling. The 9-year-old boy sounded like a tiny MP every time he spoke. Love the British accents.

Happy Bastille Day!

We arrived in Paris this evening and in just the few hours the Coordinatrix and I spent out in the city tonight, I've realized the two things about Paris that have always been presented to me as fact are lies. Big lies.

I have always heard the following: 1. Paris is such a beautiful city and 2. the French are rude. Tonight we went to Sacre Coeur. We were only there a few minutes (long enough for me to very quietly crow about identifying the story in the stained glass windows as Joan of Arc) when clergy entered and started a service, so we sat down for half an hour to participate. From Sacre Couer we had a great view out over the city, but it's a really unattractive view. I'm sure the buildings themselves are lovely, but the city as a unit is really not. Especially since we just came from beautiful Luzern with its lake and mountains (and cable cars and church bells and cow bells).

AND we had three experiences with Parisians and they were all soooo positive. The first was when we were on a rather rough, loud metro car and two men moved so we could sit down together. Then we had a problem with our metro tickets. (I'd already had one problem with my tickets and just jumped the turnstile but no one was in that station.) The ticket machine wouldn't take our tickets that should have still been valid and the machine to purchase tickets was refusing both our credit cards and would only accept coins, which we didn't have. A very nice (and handsome) young man came and walked us through the machine and when he couldn't make it work either, he traded me bills for coins and then walked through the gate with us and gave us directions. We would have been completely stuck without him. And then when the Coordinatrix bought a crepe for her late dinner near our hotel, the guy serving her struck up a conversation with us and was so friendly. I love the Parisians!

Tomorrow is Bastille Day. In Paris! We already did a little celebrating at the Bastille monument where bands were playing and performers were twirling fire and playing in drum lines. I still miss Italy, but Paris is making a pretty good impression so far.

Here are some pictures from the past few days. One day I'll catch up with where we've been, what we've been doing, and with whom we've been traveling.


This is the view from our cable car, which traveled 10,000 feet up to the top of Mt. Titlis in Switzerland. I'll write about our trip up there later, but isn't it beautiful? (Much prettier than Paris.)

These are some of the paintings in the Mill Bridge. The paintings are from the 17th or 18th century (I need to do some fact checking, but there's no time!) and each one includes a skeleton (mEmento mori). There's a chapel in the middle of the bridge and it was built to protect the city from floods. Families have volunteered to care for the chapel and fill it with fresh flowers for the last 500 years.

This is not the Mill Bridge. But it's similar. It's further down the Reuss River (yards further, not miles further) and the water tower is original but the actual bridge burned up about 15 years ago. This is the rebuilt version.

My favorite treats in Liechtenstein. Breads shaped like animals. Wacky animals.

A view from the bridge in Innsbruck (very close to where we did laundry).