A Saturday Drive - Part One

John and Kara decided last Thursday, a week ago today, that they wanted to take the train to York on Saturday and visit the York Cathedral. Saturday was the day we needed to be out of the "lodge" we were staying at, by 10:00 in the morning. I had to laugh inside because they were also gone the day we had to leave the cottage in Wales.

Why does this make me laugh inside? Well, because that left Mel and me to do all the cleaning up and packing of the car for the next part of our journey. Sneaky, sneaky.

But it worked out ok. The first Saturday we had Stirling with us, but the second one they decided to take him with them so he could have a nice long ride on the train. That was fine with us because it left us with the only day we had to ourselves. It's amazing how much Mel and I are 'set in our ways' at the ripe old ages of early 50's. :):) It was nice to travel at our own pace for awhile, do our own thing, so to speak, without needing to consider anyone else in our decisions.

The only major drawback? Well - the nearest train station that had a schedule that would work to make their plan work was in Edinburgh, about an hours drive away. And the time they needed to be at the train was 7:00 in the morning. Mel was up a little before 6, they packed up a bunch of their stuff into the trunk of the car, and took off. I went back to sleep.

The plan worked fine. Except for the part where Mel got lost because for some strange reason in Great Britain they do most of the road work on the weekends and they had closed one of the roads he needed to use to return. He also stopped and bought me a mocha at a Costa Coffee shop along the way. He got back at 9:40 - and we were supposed to leave by 10:00 so the owners could clean and prepare the place for the next vacationers.

While Mel was wandering around the Scottish country side, searching for a road home, I was up, showering, washing the last dishes, cleaning, finishing up the packing. Since it wasn't raining and the picnic table out on the patio was dry, I took my Bible and a devotional book I use out there and sat in the cool morning breezes and read and thought and soaked in the sound of wind roaring through the evergreens and the view of tall hills all around. I loved it. I would love to do that again right this moment. Right now.... ahhhhh.

Mel got back, brought me my cold mocha which tasted just great anyway, and we started packing up the car. Our dear children had twice the amount of luggage they had arrived with. It is interesting to watch other people and see what they buy while on vacation in a foreign country. Not just gifts for others at home, but food they can't buy at home as well. Mel and I, on the other hand, are 'seasoned travelers' now - our suitcases were just a couple pounds heavier when we came back than when we left - and part of that is because they brought a pair of shoes for me which I packed in my suitcase. heh heh heh. Needless to say - we didn't buy a lot of gifts for people, either at home or here in Ukraine. The main reason - the dollar is only worth 50 cents in the United Kingdom and we were traveling only within Europe so could only carry one suitcase each with a maximum of 20 kilograms each (about 45 pounds or so) - we each ended up with 14 kilos and a few grams when we finally checked in - how did that happen? But I once again digress.

I carried the bags out to the steps near the car and Mel took them and loaded up the trunk and part of the back seat. I looked in the car and asked him, "Where are Kara and John going to sit when we pick them up?" And he replied something to the effect of, "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." or maybe "That's their problem, not mine." or maybe that is just what I was thinking!

Mel called the owner of the lodge - she and her family live in Glasgow several miles away - and told her we were leaving and she told him where to leave the key. We got in the car (side note: by that time, driving on the left/wrong side of the road and sitting in what to me should have been the driver's seat felt perfectly normal and natural). I got out the map and asked Mel, "Do you mind if we take the scenic route instead of the M down to York?" The M's are like interstates, as opposed to the A's which are like regular highways and have roundabouts now and again. He said sure. So, I said, "Then head back for Edinburgh. We'll cross the bridge over the Firth of Forth again and take the exit to the M that circles the city, over to this A (showing him on the map) that will take us down the coast of the North Sea, south."

Great plan .... Road construction. One hour wait at the bridge - except we just happened to arrive at the backed-up traffic before the bridge at the exit that would take us around the Firth of Forth to a bridge nearer Stirling. At the last minute, after reading the sign that said 'one hour wait at the bridge,' we made a split second decision and turned off at that exit. Got to see more of Scotland that way, and added an hour to our trip going around the Firth and the road construction instead of waiting in a traffic jam several miles long.

We drove along the A1 to Berwick-upon-Tweed and by then it was way past lunch time. We took an exit off the A into town and discovered that the center of the town was really, really busy. Lots of tourists and an outdoor market and people wandering around all over the place. Berwick-upon-Tweed is a beautiful old town - I really like the towns and cities in Great Britain. There is a sense of history surrounding you all the time that I just have never felt in the States.

We drove through the very narrow Old City Gate and into the oldest part of town, turned to the left and found a parking area just a few meters from the original city wall. A Fish and Chips shop had caught our attention on the way, so we walked back up the street, through the gate and up to the shop. I love fish and chips - although I only ate a piece of the fish. Oh my - that is good stuff!

On the way to the shop I had seen some people walking up on top of the city wall, so I asked Mel if we could climb up there and walk around a bit, too, before we left. I had seen stairs on the inside of the wall, but we were on the outside of the wall at that point. There is a large parking area on the outside of the wall and I just naturally assumed that there would be a way up from that side as well - how many years has it been since that town has used that wall for defense anyway??? Well, I was mistaken. heh heh heh We walked through the parking lot where a van-display for Guide Dogs for the Blind was educating people about guide dogs (didn't see any dogs, though), past a supermarket and cafe, past a lot of cars, walking along the outside of the wall, around a bend and down a low slope toward the sea which we could not see from there. After the bend, Mel told me (again) that he didn't think there was a way up from the outside, and I gave in in defeat - gracefully, of course, because my knee and feet were killing me and I was wondering if I was going to actually make it back to the car. So much for my adventurous spirit! I told Mel, as we walked back toward the main street, that I had never been walled out of a city before and felt very rejected. :):)

I did make it back to the car and along the way we found the stairs to the top of the wall again, but I declined to go up the incline. Mel drove us back out of the parking area to the main road and I said, "Turn left here instead of going back up the way we came down. There is another bridge on the map that leads us back to the A this way." We drove down the street, dodging cars and big buses and pedestrians out shopping and as we passed through a roundabout I said to Mel, "I think that was where we were supposed to turn" because I could see a bridge down the road. Bridges in old cities are pretty obvious - they look so 'Roman' to me... "Just keep going down this street, we'll turn around and come back." Funny thing, those walled cities...they have walls and roads end at the walls and all the roads inside the city are about one or one point five car widths wide. It was an adventure and we got to know the old city of Berwick-upon-Tweed better than we had planned, but no dings on the car from passing vehicles, no scrapes from buildings that sit right on the side of the road, no run-over toes or pedestrians, we didn't run out of gas as we wandered here and there through the crooked, windy streets - and eventually we found the correct turn again and make it out of town! Someday I would like to go back and visit Berwick-upon-Tweed again, if only so I can say and write the name again many times. Whatever does "Berwick-upon-Tweed" actually mean anyway???? I have visions in my head of some man named Berwick sitting on a piece of tweed cloth or a burr wick laying on some tweed or ... there goes my imagination again!

We drove and drove and drove, heading south, ever south through England toward York. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere we came over a hill and saw at the bottom a long line of traffic and several police cars with flashing lights. We never did learn what had happened over the next hill, because we were all diverted back up the other side of the A to a turn-off into the English country side. Fortunately the lead car in front of us apparently knew where he was going because if we had had to drive that route by ourselves, we would still be out wandering around past sheep pastures, down one-lane country roads, back to the north, over to the west, around to the south, back to the east, up that hill, down that valley, oh look - more sheep! and over there - even more sheep!

Finally we arrived in Durham, or near it anyway. We stopped at a rest area and went into the Burger King and grabbed some dinner. As we finished up, Kara called and wanted to know where we were at (sometimes cell phones are really handy). I hesitated to tell her, since we were still several miles north of York. She was a little flustered (I think due to Stirling) and told us they were catching the train to Nottingham, we could pick them up there. That was the closest station to the hotel we were spending the night at - in Alfreton, which was actually northwest of Nottingham. I said, "Ok, we'll meet you at the train station, but we aren't sure when we'll get there. But we will be there."

Famous last words!