UPDATE: I have also added a new category for the Brit Blog which will filter out non-Brit Blog posts.

I have updated the Brit Blog with some pictures. I hope to make the posts about our last few days there in the next few days. I am now home and Jean is going to be there one more week. Thanks for reading.

Steve

Hi,

It’s a fat triplet wife, here. Or is it a triplet’s fat wife?? Anyway, I belong to Scott, and I wanted to post on here. We have a chalkboard wall in our kitchen, and in honor of Scott’s birthday, the kids and I made a top 10 list. Here it is:

Top 10 things we love about Dad
10 He is funny
9 Dad likes cool movies
8 He burns CDs for me
7 He helps in the kitchen after dinner
6 He reads me stories and puts me night-night
5 He likes roller coasters
4 He’s my Dad
3 He likes poker
2 He makes good eggs
1 There is nobody else like him (even Seth and Steve!)

Happy birthday, Dear! (And happy birthday, bothers-in-law!)

Love,

Fat triplet wife

As of this post we are in London and, as in York, have limited access to the internet. It may be difficult for me to make regular posts and will be much more difficult to post with pictures. So please be patient and be sure to check back to see if pictures have been added even if you have already read a post. Thanks for reading.

Steve

Saturday we awoke at our leisure and after the usual morning routine of shower, breakfast, etc. caught a bus into the City of Edinburgh to see the sites of the city, visit Edinburgh Castle and do some shopping.

Our first stop was to the graveyard of a dog, Greyfriar’s Bobby. In the late 1800’s there was a local man who was known around Edinburgh for his close relationship to his dog, Bobby. The man died and was buried in the Graveyard of Greyfriar’s church. Out of loyalty to his beloved master, Bobby took up residence in the graveyard of the church. Ultimately he was adopted by the people of Edinburgh and given official residence in the graveyard by the church. He died 14 years later while laying on the grave of his former master. All of Edinburgh mourned for they had come to love Bobby for the love, loyalty and faithfulness he had shown for his master.

Greyfriar’s Bobby

Our dentist in Pendleton, Dr. Arthur Bruce is of Scottish Heritage. You may recall Robert the Bruce from the movie Braveheart. That is the clan that Dr. Bruce traces his lineage to. No minor clan this one! Dr. Bruce had asked Jean to buy him four Bruce tartan ties, two bow ties and two regular ties while in Edinburgh as well as some celtic music to play in his office. If you want to buy tartans, Edinburgh is the place to do it. Tartans of every conceivable clan are available at a reasonable price on the Royal Mile, the one mile stretch of road between Edinburgh Castle and The Palace of Holyrood. As well as a major retail and tourism district, this one mile stretch of road includes the home of John Knox and St. Giles church where Knox preached, as well as many other historically important sites. After shopping for the requested items for Dr. Bruce, we proceeded to Edinburgh Castle.

As you may recall from an earlier post, we visited Warwick Castle our first week in the UK. Edinburgh Castle is very different from Warwick. It is larger and is built upon a natural volcanic hill (one of seven hills that define the geography of Edinburgh). Edinburgh castle has several layers, or levels, and is historically more significant than Warwick. You enter the castle through a Portcullis and ascend to the upper tiers of the castle where the main, fortifications, cannons and ramparts are. Here you can view the Great Hall, the Crown Jewels of Scotland, the Scottish War Memorial and David’s tower where the jewels were hidden to keep them from falling into the hands of the Nazis during World War II.

Edinburgh Castle

In order to appreciate the most blogworthy incident of the day, a little background information would be useful. Among my side of the family (my mom and dad, my brothers and their families) Jean has the reputation for knowing, well, “everyone”. Over the years, this reputation has been burnished by the fact that everywhere we go, and everywhere my family members go, we seem to run into old friends of Jean or meet people that Jean knows (even if she is not there). It was already early afternoon when we arrived at Edinburgh castle so we decided to eat at a little café and sandwich shop located onsite. Jean and Meg found a different table then the rest of us because there was not a table big enough for all of us. An American family came in and settled themselves at the table next to Jean’s and Meg’s, asking if they could spare a chair. Jean looked once, then twice, at the wife and thought she strongly resembled her friend from single days at Intown Church, Laura (White) Dossett. Laura had moved first to Orlando and then to Paris after marrying, and she and Jean had lost touch. Jean had tried hard to track her down over the last year when Steve’s cousin Jessica moved to Paris and was looking for new friends/contacts. But she was unsuccessful. She looked over and quietly said, “Laura?”, hoping not to be too embarrassed if the gal at the next table gave her a blank stare. Instead, Laura jumped up, gave her a big hug, and our two families spent the next hour or so “catching up”, trading addresses, etc. The Dossett’s were really just having a one-day “layover” in Edinburgh on their way to a week’s holiday in the Isle of Skye. Now, really, if you were working the law of averages, what is the likelihood that in the huge Edinburgh Castle complex, mobbed with July tourists, you would end up in the same café (which by the way had several large rooms as well as tables outside), at tables right next to each other? This one sets a new record for Jean: “When I was in Edinburgh, I ran into old friends from Atlanta who now live in Paris”. Go figure!! For any of you reading this who know Burgin and Laura, they have 4 beautiful children and are doing great. I really enjoyed meeting them. Jean has great taste in friends!

Jean with Burgin and Laura

The Dossett Family

Forty-one years ago today, the FatTriplets were born. This is a story about how we got our names. I don’t remember any of these events, so I am relaying the story as told me by my father (with a lot of poetic license I will admit). Come to think of it, does anybody remember the day they were born?

A few months before we were born, my mother was sent to the radiology lab . Her Obstetrician was worried, so he did something that even then was rare. He sent her to the x-ray lab to have pictures taken of the babies. Remember there were no sonograms or high-tech instruments, so he risked frying our brains because of mom’s size. (This might explain some things, haha.) She was many weeks out from the scheduled due date and she was enormous in girth. My mother is a diminutive woman, around 5′3″. And the doctor was concerned because of her size. As an aside, there is no photographic evidence of mom’s size because after she came home from the hospital, she burned every picture she could find of her pregnant self. Anyway, the radiologist looked at the xrays and then put them in an envelope, gave them to her and told her to go straight back to her OB. When she arrived, the doctor was waiting in the front parking lot, escorted her through a crowd of pregnant women in the lobby and took her back to his office. He asked her to sit down. He said to her “The X-rays are inconclusive, but you are carrying at least 3 babies.” She picked herself off the floor and began preparing herself, mentally, emotionally and in every other way to be the mother of at least triplets.

Keep in mind, my mother did not use fertility drugs. Until we were around 18 years old, we didn’t even know if we were fraternal or identical triplets. The story is that when were born, we came so fast that the doctor didn’t have time to look at the placenta to determine it. Once someone had thought of that question, the placenta had already been incinerated. We only found out as teenagers when a hematologist at Duke Medical Center did a comprehensive analysis of our blood (due to a mild congenital blood disorder we have). He told us we were identical. He told us at the time that the newly implanted egg must’ve split once and then both of those split again, forming four eggs, and then one of the embryos must’ve died in-utero. Since then, I have wondered about the math in that explanation. Couldn’t the egg have split once and then only one of those eggs split again to make three eggs? I don’t know, but I have always thought that once I get to heaven, it would be cool to meet the brother I never knew.

So anyway, a few weeks after the doctor visit, 30 days early, my mother went into labor. My dad, as the story goes, was far away on business, heard the news, hopped in his 1963 Plymouth Valiant and hightailed it back home to Spartanburg, SC, driving 90 MPH the whole way. He arrived after only 2 and half hours, breathless, to the hospital and my mother had already delivered us. Apparently, the media was arriving along with my father. I guess back then, before the advent of fertility drugs, triplet or quad births were newsworthy events. These days you have to have septuplets to make page 2 of the Lifestyle section.

Mom doesn’t really remember the labor, having endured the pain, strain and stress of delivering triplets and having been given a sedative or narcotic pain reliever right after the delivery. She was zonkered when dad arrived. Apparently, when the time came, we came quickly and easily. Me (Scott) first. Seth about 2 minutes later and then Steve was the caboose about 5 or so minutes later. I have always been proud that I am the “older” triplet. haha. Three boys and no more. So by the time dad arrived, mom was sleeping blissfully unaware of the media frenzy outside her door.

Well, as it turns out, that was a problem. There were reporters out there in the waiting room. Inquiring minds wanted to know. What were the boys� names? You see, in the weeks since the doctor’s visit, my parents had assumed (hoped and prayed) she was carrying triplets and had worked out names for every contingency, (1 boy, 2 girls–2 boys, 1 girl–3 girls) except for the 3 boys contingency. They already had a boy. It made perfect sense that The Lord would give them a girl. But He didn’t. And now mom is zonkered and dad has to answer pesky questions from reporters. He had help from a neighborhood friend named Donna who, herself pregannt with twins, was there to support the family. So my dad and Donna go away to a place where they can have some privacy, baby name book in hand.

They labor over the problem for awhile and come up with three solid and reasonable names.
Scott Kevin
Seth Brian
Steven Randall

Dad goes to mom’s room since she is finally awake (sort of).
Dad: “Honey, we have three boys and I had to come up with some names. How does Scott Kevin, Seth Brian and Steven Randall sound?”
Mom (groggily): “That�s fine dear”.

The pesky names question finally answered, dad calls a press conference and gives them the news. The next morning, mom is fully awake alert and, along with her orange juice, receives the front page of the Spartanburg Herald, with a picture of nurses holding the three little tykes and their names captioned below. Let me say that my mother is a fine and Godly Christian and a truly forgiving woman, but at that moment my dad slinked into the doghouse. She was furious. She says she would’ve never given us all “S” names. She always raised us to not be a triplet spectacle, but wanted us to grow up as individuals. She stopped dressing us the same before we entered kindergarten. But what was done could not easily be undone. The infamous triplet naming scandal has been in the annals of our family oral history for 41 years, but I believe this is the first time it has been recorded in writing.

Of course mom forgave dad that error a long time ago. They are wonderful parents and an example for the fat triplets and their older brother of what Christian parents should be like. Thanks for putting up with us.

Scott
********************
The FatTriplets when they were cute.

The FatTriplets at their big 40 year birthday bash last year. Dad recounted the Triplet naming scandal at the bash.

Steve, Seth - I love ya brothers.
Brig - what a great older brother. Sorry we killed your hamster.
Mom - You bore us, birthed us, and raised us, and the whole time you have been a Godly mother without fail. I only hope we can love Christ half as much as you do.
Dad - You’re a rock. And yet you’re so compassionate and love us more than we deserve. I wish I could lead my family like you have led yours.

Fridays must be our day to take it easy, do laundry and do things that are not explicitly British. Last Friday it was bowling. Today it was ice skating and a trip to the park.
Emily on Ice Skates

I took advantage of the down time to learn to post pictures to the blog (so make sure you review all the past posts from our trip). We had dinner with a group of about 16 adults from Perimeter Church in Atlanta who are in Edinburgh for a church history and golfing trip. We were able to renew our acquaintance with Tom and Sherry Lutz, old friends from Church of the Redeemer, our old church in Atlanta. The restaurant was a Chinese Buffet (quite good) so the kids were thrilled to be able to make about 16 trips to the dessert bar.

Steve

New Flash!: Pictures Added

Please take the time to review the posts from our trip. I am in the process of adding some photos for your enjoyment!

This is another post shamelessly lifted from an email that my wife sent. She promises that she will restrict her travel accounts to www.fattriplets.com in the future so this site will be the exclusive repository of our adventures in the future.

By the way, I plan to post some pictures today so check back later.

Here is the narrative of our remarkable adventures as told by Jean:

If I were superstitious I wouldn’t even mention this for fear of tempting the gods, but we’ve been in Britain for a week and a half and haven’t had a rainy day yet! We left the beautiful city of York on Monday and were met at the train station in Edinburgh by David Simpson, our good friend from Atlanta. Most of you know this, but David (Irish) and his Scottish wife, Mairi, and their 3 kids (Alistair, Jonathan, Kirsty) were our very close friends during the 5 or so years that they were living in Atlanta.

It’s now Friday, and we’ve spent the week in their spacious Victorian terrace house on the outskirts of Edinburgh. They’ve “finished” their huge attic and created 3 bedrooms and a full bath, so Steve and I have a room, and our kids are “bunking in” with their kids. They’re doing a great job of updating and renovating their house. It has 12 ft. high ceilings, huge windows with great views and beautiful molding, etc. It’s been so fun to catch up with them, and the kids have had a blast playing with their kids. Trez, you’ll be interested to know that Meg has spent lots of time mastering the art of the “skip-it” toy that you gave Kirsty many years ago as a birthday gift! (Kirsty is amazing at skipping…I attribute it to her highland dancing!)

On Tuesday we rode the bus into Edinburgh…about 45 minutes because of lots of stops, but we were on the top of the double-decker, which allows you to see the beautiful architecture above the store fronts. We went to a large, attractive shopping mall on the waterfront (on the Firth of Forth). The HMY Britannia is docked there, and we toured the yacht. It was really interesting, and full of photos of royalty and dignitaries who had been the queen’s guests on board. The “honeymoon suite” was incredibly simple with a small double bed, and it was interesting to see the heirarchy of space, privacy, etc. among the crew. They had a great “audio tour” with a hand-held headset, so you could go at your own pace, and there was a children’s version.

Her Majesty’s Yacht Britannia

After the tour and lunch, the kids went to see “Madagascar” at the theatre and Steve, Mairi and I got coffee and visited until the movie was finished. Mairi’s sister, Rhoda, who lives in Edinburgh came and joined us for coffee. I enjoyed meeting her..she’s the only one of Mairi’s 3 siblings I hadn’t met. Then home, dinner and a quiet evening at the Simpson’s. It was a good day!

On Wed., we left with the Simpson’s for an overnight excursion to an area of lochs and mountains called the Trossachs. It was about an hour and a half drive. We went straight to a park area where there’s a steamboat called the Sir Walter Scott that does a scenic cruise around Loch Katrine, a really deep and beautiful loch surrounded by high green hills/mountains. Before the steamboat cruise, we took a walk and the kids had a blast climbing on the rocks and scampering through the woods on either side of the path. We picnicked beside the loch. The only “negative” about all this (esp. the sailing excursion) is that it got very overcast and windy, so it was really cold!! We would stay on deck as long as we could stand it, and then take refuge down below for a while! Most of the other passengers were senior citizens, and I was amused to see a row of 4 elderly British women, in tweed skirts, cardigans and sensible shoes, up on their knees on the benches below looking out the portholes at the view. I would have liked to take a picture of them from behind, but didn’t have the courage in case the other passengers thought it was rude.

Loch Katrine from the Deck of the Sir Walter Scott

After the cruise, we set off for a small village where Mairi had booked rooms at a Bed and Breakfast for all of us. The kids had fun on a little playground, and then we went to a nearby hotel/pub for dinner as the restaurant at our B&B was full of cigarette smoke and smelled greasy. The restaurant we chose had really good brick oven pizza, which most of the kids got. The rest of us regretted our choices, as it was really mediocre and quite expensive with our diminished dollars. The service was very slow as well. But we enjoyed the company, and had a great laugh at Kirsty, who read us the wine list using different accents (posh English, broad Scottish, American). She’s a great mimic and was reading things like “a full-bodied wine with a slightly nutty, fruity flavor”. You’d have to hear it to fully appreciate it! Anyway, after dinner we quickly settled in to bed. I was amused by another description on the menu…a pasta dish that said something like “garlic, olive oil, pine nuts and white wine ‘whizzed together’ to create a ‘beautiful, fragrant’ sauce”!!

View from a small bridge near our B&B

On Thursday we had a “full cooked breakfast” at the B & B (for the uninitiated, it includes cereal, toast, eggs, bacon/sausage, tomatoes, and maybe some regional specialty. In this case, the specialty was “Black pudding”, which we declined!). The hotel bill made us extremely grateful for Marriott points and gracious hosts like the Simpsons, Lynn and Brig, etc. as the costs are eye-popping (about $200 for our family for one night, and it was not a five-star hotel by any stretch of the imagination!)

The weather on Thursday was amazing. Perfect temp, beautiful blue skies with puffy white clouds and great visibility. We climbed up a steep path to a pretty viewing point…we all decided to change into shorts and t-shirts after the climb! Then we drove on to a “Scottish Wool Centre” (run by the Edinburgh Woolen Mill, a chain of stores here). They had, naturally a huge shop and a restaurant, but the draw for us was that they had demonstrations of sheep shearing, wool spinning and sheepdogs herding sheep. They also had an amazing variety of birds of prey, but were charging steep prices to be photographed holding one of them. Our kids were disappointed when we said “no” to that. The sheepdogs (border collies) were truly amazing. Cheryl, we thought of Rosie as we watched the dogs get into her exact crouching position! I learned something interesting…the term “that’ll do”, notably used at the very end of the movie “Babe”, is actually a sheep herding command. Both the adults and the kids found these demonstrations fascinating.

Border Collie in Trainer

After lunch we drove, admiring all the breathtaking scenery on the way, to the Wallace Monument near Stirling. This is a very tall tower, built in the mid-1800’s on a high hill as a memorial/tribute to Scottish freedom fighter/hero William Wallace, who was the main
character in the movie “Braveheart”. The views were absolutely incredible, and as you climbed the winding staircase you could stop on 4 levels to learn about Wallace, other Scottish heroes, the building of the tower, etc. It was great.

Thistle, the Scottish National Flower

Wallace Monument

Statue of Sir William Wallace I wonder if the “Braveheart” was added after the movie?

We returned to the Simpsons house and “barbecued” in their “garden”…burgers and hot dogs for the kids, steak and fish for the adults. We all slept well after all the fresh air and climbing!

Thanks for reading,

Steve

On Saturday morning, we arose early enough to pack our things in the car and make our way to the Oxford Train Station for a 9:34 train ride to York. We have 4 suitcases, one large duffel, 3 backpacks, my rolling laptop case, one camera bag and one canvas tote so I was quite self-conscious as we boarded the train and tried to find a place for our luggage. There was SRO, the luggage rack was quite full and we had a 3 hour train ride ahead of us. I was dreading what was to come when I noticed that we were supposed to have reserved seats which I showed to the train manager who was just passing by. She proceeded to kick the seat squatters out of our seats against my own protestations (for fear of being labelled an ugly American). The train ride took about four hours and was uneventful.

A little about train travel.
We made the decision many months ago that we would not “hire” a car (as the Brits say) for our vacation but would make our way around on the comprehensive train system present throughout the UK. When we first began to check prices it seemed quite expensive. But with a little guidance from Rick Steves we learned that substantial discounts can be had on train tickets with the purchase of a Family Railcard. The Family Railcard costs only £20 and entitles the bearer to a 60% discount for kids and up to 1/3 discount for adults with limited restrictions. Our itinerary includes a total of 7 planned train segments: Gatwick to Oxford, Oxford to York, York to Edinburgh, Edinburgh to London (Steve’s last segment before he heads home), London to Taunton and Taunton to Gatwick. The total for all these segments was £272. An amount substantially less than a hired car would have cost (especially once you consider it cost about £50 to fill up a car with gas). And I enjoy train travel. I enjoy the scenery and leaving someone else to drive. I frequently travel by train from Clemson to Atlanta on Amtrak. The british rail system seems to be much better operated than Amtrak which is only reluctantly subsidized by the US government. The trains we have ridden have been well patronized, have operated consistently on time (the latest being 15 minutes) and are clean. However, this experience seems to run counter to the common wisdom of the average Brit who seem mostly to complain since the system was privatized. As my first post indicated though, learning to get around on them can be a bit daunting. There is very little useful published information such as a comprehensive and comprehensible train schedule and the information from train personnel has not been consistently reliable.

We considered walking to our hotel (which can just barely be acheived if each child totes their backpacks and rolls one piece of luggage) but we quickly came to our senses and hired a taxi for the 5 minute trip to the hotel.

We were lodged for two nights with two rooms at the Hilton which is situated in the town right across the street from Cliffords Tower and the Castle Museum.

Clifford’s Tower

I thought the service and the rooms were only fair at the Hilton. It was hot both of our days and nights there and the rooms were uncomfortably warm both nights. Central Air Conditioning is rare in England as it is only needed a few days or weeks out of the year. One of my early posts on The Fat Triplets blog concerned the competitive nature of the hotel industry in the US, particularly as it pertained to the bedding. Apparently the bedding wars have reached across the pond because the Hilton in York advertised quite a lot about its new linens. The linens on the bedding were indeed quite nice although the beds themselves seemed like typical commercial grade. Maybe I am jaded as a frequent traveller but I thought the York Hilton was not up to the standards I would have expected from an Upper tier brand. The location was great, the service was good but the rooms seemed small and dated.

On Saturday night, we went looking for a recommended Fish and Chips restaurant, and failing to find it, settled on a place called Wackers. We were reluctant at first because it was only sparsely patronized but the fish and chips were excellent. I discovered that the fish in traditional English fish and chips is Haddock. I would have guessed Cod. Two thirds (my estimation) of York is surrounded by a one thousand year old medieval wall divided into three parts. We walked back to our hotel via one of these walls. It was great fun.

Walk on York’s Wall

On Sunday, we grabbed a bite of breakfast from one of the many bakeries that are ubiquitous in England and headed for the Jorvik Museum, a museum of Viking life and culture. The name York is derived from the early Viking town of Jorvik which was located there. The Jorvik is located in a major shopping district and was created when a worker discovered Viking artifacts while making improvements. The remains unearthed during the “Viking Dig”carried on there by the York Archeological Trust were amazingly well preserved, including intact eggshells, fecal matter and the waste associated with particular trades, because of the peaty soil. The entrance to the museum is gained via a 10 minute ride, preceded by a cheesy time machine multimedia presentation, through a wax representation of the town of Jorvik as it was settled by the Vikings between AD 876 and AD 954. The exhibit reminded me of the famous quote of Thomas Hobbes who described life in the natural state as “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short”. The exhibit even went to the pains to recreate what the smells may have been like in the town, the primary feature that has remained with my kids.

We then went grocery shopping at Marks and Spencer and had a picnic at the Museum Gardens. The kids enjoyed goofing off and even got to interact with some Roman Guard re-enactors. David asked one of the guards where he got his costume. He cheekily answered, “Wal-Mart”. He also pulled a cell phone from a leather costume pouch which tended to ruin the effect.

We then proceeded to evensong at York Minster Cathedral, the largest gothic cathedral in Britain. We were too late to get into the service but were still allowed into part of the cathedral not set aside for worship and could still appreciate the hauntingly beautiful organ and choir music. Jean was surprised to discover, as the choir was processing in for the service, that it was not an all boy choir. We were told that girls were let into the cathedral choir beginning 6 years ago.

York Minster Cathedral

On Monday, after getting our bags organized, we headed across the street to the Castle Museum, a museum of every day life. It is located in two buildings both of which were formerly used as prisons, a women’s prison and a debtors prison. Here I learned the history of the toilet (Did you know that the flushable toilet was invented by Thomas Crapper?), the dishwasher, the vacuum cleaner and the Luddites (the violent movement against the modernization of the textile industry in northern England). Our time in York ended with a trip to Clifford’s Tower. Clifford’s Tower is the site of one of the most horrendous acts of anti-semitism in British history. In March 1190, the 150 Jews of York were told to either convert or be killed. They took refuge in the then wooden tower and instead of relenting to the demands committed mass suicide and burned the tower to the ground around them. The few survivors were brutally murdered the next day. The jews were being blamed for the scourge of the plague that was then afflicting York. One commentator I read suggested a more economic reason for the massacre, to avoid repayment to the primarily Jewish moneylenders of the city.

York was fabulous. Rick Steves says that York is a must see city in Britain behind London and Edinburgh. I agree. Lots of history and beauty and yet a very walkable, accessible city. We then made our way back to the train station and headed north to Edinburgh. Beautiful ride along the east coast with great views of the sea. We are staying with our friends David and Mairi Simpson. David met us at the station and gave us a lift to their home. They are very dear friends and our longest stretch of time is with them in Edinburgh and an overnight excursion to the Trossachs. Should be great.

Steve

Friday was a rather uneventful day. The highlight of the day was bowling. We went to the bowling alley on the Air Force base where my brother works and bowled. I won with a score of 106 even though I had four gutter balls in the first two frames and my neice, Ashley, was using the bumpers.

After we returned, Jean, Emily (my eldest), Lynn and Ashley went to see some of the sites in Oxford. Jean will need to fill you in on of details of that excursion. She spent the morning while we were bowling, organizing our luggage so that we would be ready early in the morning for our ride into Oxford to catch a train to York, our next destination.

That afternoon, I read about half the book that I am currently reading, Freakonomics by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner. I hope to post a few thoughts about the book in a few days.

Steve

Just a note that we are now inYork and have very limited access to the internet. It’s about $30 a day in the hotel. I may not get to post much for a day or two. I hope to find a reasonably priced internet cafe but we will see.

Steve

Today we went to Warwick Castle.

Warwick Castle as viewed from the ramparts
It was unseasonably hot again but not as bad as yesterday. It was about an hours ride in the car from my brother’s house. Apparently the owner is cash strapped since it is now being managed as a tourist attraction by the Tussaud Group, as in Madame Tussauds Wax Museum. It was loads of fun and everyone had a great time.

We saw a falconry show that featured a Bald Eagle from the Canadian Rockies, a demonstration of the worlds largest working Trebuchet and a longbow exhibit by a skilled archer.

Warwick Castle Trebuchet and owl from the falconry show

I was amused and a little chagrined by the lack of Political Correctness exhibited by the archer. During his demonstration to a group made up mostly of school aged children, he made multiple references to a male genetalia as n**s and how these might be affected by the intrusion of an arrow from a longbow or a bolt from a crossbow. This was one of multiple colorful references by the testosterone charged archer. As a Saxon he had nothing but disparaging things to say about Richard the Lionhearted or any Norman king (incuding a disparaging remark about Richard’s sexual orientation which was lost on my kids). The archery demonstration was followed by a brief lesson on various medieval hand-to-hand combat techniques during which he graphically described the disembowelment of enemies with various weaponry. Lastly, he moved on to a discussion of medieval surgery in which, using a wax model head provided by Madame Tussauds, he demonstrated in gory detail the successful removal of an arrowhead received during battle from the face and skull of Henry V when he was a young prince of 16. Today it is considered an amazing early success in neurosurgery although it resulted in the collapse of the bone structure on the right side of Henry’s face which is why he never allowed his portrait to be taken but in profile. Although full of himself and a bit of a rascal, the archer was a wonderfully engaging storyteller. Disney it wasn’t but the kids loved it.

Kids in Battle Helmets

I personally did not get to see much of the inside of Warwick castle except for the armory and dungeon which included a section on instruments of torture. I would imagine that the whole dungeon/torture gig is rather routine for tourists making the rounds of castles in Europe. It is interesting how little of that sort of thing you see in the United States. I would primarily attribute this to the relative youth of the US, not to some inherent virtuosity. (We have plenty of our own shameful episodes of barbarousness and cruelty such as slavery, treatment of the indians, etc.) Nontheless, it is hard to imagine a mindset that would allow the systematic infliction of pain on other human beings for punishment or to extract confessions. Many of the worst practitioners of torture were religiously motivated although the methods used by the church were limited by church law to forbid bloodshed, mutilation and death (though it still left plenty of abominable options). I wonder what the change was in thinking and moral philosophy that occured in the 18th century that brought about the near universal condemnation of torture? I would imagine that the enlightenment, the belief in natural rights and the birth of democracy all played a part in its curtailment.

We returned home in the evening for a dinner of Cheese ravioli and garlic Texas Toast made from the Sally Lunn Buns we bought in Bath. I thought the bun was highly over-rated (it could be described as a small loaf of bland white bread) but it made fabulous Texas Toast. Everyone agreed its best use was slathered in butter, sprinkled with garlic powder and toasted.

Steve

Todays blog is mostly lifted (and slightly edited) from an email that my dear wife Jean sent to friends and family. That explains all the exclamation points:

Today we took the train to Bath for the day. (Or Bath Spa as it is sometimes called. With the trend towards local schools selling naming rights , I expect it is only a matter of time before this city is officially named Bath Spa by Jacuzzi). With the weak dollar, we were pleased to discover the “kids for a quid” promotion…one pound each for the kids and five pounds for the adults. Yay!

It was quite hot! On our last trip, Britain had the coldest May on record, so we ignored Lynn’s advice and toted windbreakers around Bath all day, while dripping with sweat in shorts and a T-shirt! Jean kept telling the kids that the weather isn’t usually like this here!! We did the Roman Baths, but it was hot and crowded, so the kids were not quite transported with wonder and delight as Jean had fantasized prior to our trip! Poor David was very frustrated, because he wanted to do the entire 2 hour audio tour, but was hustled through by the rest of our sweating, impatient group.
Meg at the Roman Bath

But he and the other children really enjoyed the Bath Abbey…they had a “kids quiz” where they could go around and find different interesting details and get a prize. It motivated them to really look at what was around them. And Lynn and Jean sat on a pew in the cool, stone interior, gazing in awe at the fan vaulting.

Jean was disappointed she didn’t get to see the Jane Austen and Costume Museums, b/c of course only the girls were interested and everyone was hot and tired. We did gelato instead…she’s adjusting to being a tourist with kids! Jean wants to read all the memorials in the abbey, they want ice cream!! She wants to come back in the spring and go do all the “girl” things with Lynn, Ashley and a girlfriend!! (The first friend of Jean’s who actually reads and comments on this blog will be rewarded with a trip to England with her…just enter the code IWANNAGO on the comment title!)

We picnicked in the gorgeous Parade Gardens in Bath.

Meg with the Pultney Bridge Behind Her

All the Brits were basking in the seldom-seen sun! Jean sat on a bench and visited with Matt and Angela Laming,
who joined us for lunch and a visit. We decided to picnic as few buildings here are air conditioned. Jean asked at “tourist information” for a place to buy sandwiches, and was given the suggestion “Subway”. No way!! However, determined that her children have fond memories of England, she conceded to their getting Burger King for lunch. Steve had a cornish pasty, remembered fondly from our last trip to England 9 years ago. Jean was in heaven with “mature cheddar cheese, tomato and salad on a roll”. Any of you who have experienced the simple pleasure of English cheese, English bread and fresh tomato will understand her delight…those who criticize British food only eat Sunday lunch in a “hotel” and have overcooked vegetables and tired roast beef or greasy pub food. NO ONE does fresh sandwiches like the British!

Steve and Jean

I am thinking about getting one of those “I’m Blogging This” t-shirts. It would have been just right to describe the multiple blogworthy travel SNAFUs and surreal travel near misses (or near hits) we have experienced the last 24 hours or so trying to get here.

You hopefully have read yesterday’s post regarding the effort’s I made to change our departure time from GSP in order to avoid a missed connection in Atlanta. After about an additional one and a half hours of delay our “unconcerned” turned into mildly concerned. By 3:00 the plane was boarding and at 3:15 we were pulling away from the gate. We were at the gate to disembark in Atlanta by about 4:05. Our departure to London was scheduled for 4:40. Though tight, we should be able to make it with a few minutes to spare. The passengers are all standing waiting for a quick and orderly disembarkation. We wait. And Wait some more. No one is moving. No one. And then in a moment of nightmarish surreality. The pilot announces that they are having trouble getting the jetway to the plane. This is Atlanta airport. With 83.6 million passengers in 2004, Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson Airport is the busiest passenger airport in the world. One would assume from this that “Learn to Drive Jetway” would not be on the to-do list of Atlanta airport personnel. 25 minutes later my family was dashing through the airport trying to get from gate B32 to gate E27 to make our flight. Of course this was a fools errand. The gate agent rather smugly said the plane had left (a bald-faced lie given that you could see the plane still attached to the jetway out the window to the rear of the agent.) I was so proud of Meg. After enduring over a week of sickness, she was running like OJ with the rest of us to get to that gate. And she has to take two steps for our every one.

I made a bee-line to the Crown Room in Concourse E. Thankfully, there was a flight only one hour later and we were able to get seats on it. And the later flight served one useful purpose. We were able to serve the kids a belated lunch. They had not eaten since breakfast. And we predicted that the food on the plane would not interest them. It didn’t.

We boarded the plane and were hopeful that we would be able to meet the next obligation of our itinerary, a pre-booked (and non-refundable) train reservation from Gatwick to Oxford where we would be picked up by my brother with whom we are staying for a few days. The 5:45 plane would get us there in plenty of time.

We boarded. Delta was still people-boarding 15 minutes after our scheduled departure. The Captain then came on to announce that our flight was delayed because (guess which one):

A) The Hydraulic steering system was leaking fluid?
B) The electronic navigation system was improperly caluclating the GPS coordinates?
B) The on board entertainment system was not functioning properly?

If you guessed C, then you would be correct. Our pushback from the gate was delayed for over 90 minutes because of a malfunctioning entertainment system! I asked a flight attendent whether it was standard procedure to delay a flight for so long because passengers might have to amuse themselves without the aid of an inflight movie. She said that it was for international flights because “studies had shown that it was better for the mental well-being of passengers”. I’m dubious about that rationale. But even if true, what does that say about our culture? Don’t people know how to read?

We were delayed an additional half hour during taxi because while we waiting for the VCR to get fixed, a line of storms associated with Hurricane Dennis had blocked our scheduled route. Ugh! We had been “en route” from 11:30 a.m.to 7:30 p.m, and had made it all the way from Greenville, SC to Atlanta, GA (2 hours by car!)

After a grueling 8 hours with the typical little sleep, we landed at Gatwick and quickly cleared Passport control. Of course our scheduled train had left. But we were told what train to get on next to take us to Oxford (through Reading station). We missed that train too because it took so long for our luggage to get to the baggage claim area. So we had to wait an additional hour at Gatwick for the next train.

“Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore!”

Lots of confusion at Reading station. We missed the next direct train to Oxford by 2 minutes. I was told to wait at the wrong platform and almost missed the next train too. Fortunately, my FT sense started tingling so we just barely got on the right train. That train was the first time in about 22 hours that I felt we could relax. My brother was waiting for me at Oxford station and we have been in the pleasure of their company now for about 7 hours. I have had about 3 hours of sleep in the past 33 hours. Time to sleep. And off to Bath tomorrow.

Sweet Dreams!

Steve

By the way, I am adjusting the auto-posting time-date stamp to reflect UK time.

We are in the terminal at Greenville Spartanburg Airport. Our flight was scheduled to leave GSP at 1:30 and has been delayed until 2:15. Our flight for London leaves at 4:40 so we are hoping for no further delays. We were originally scheduled for a 2:45 departure out of GSP but the 50 minute connection in Atlanta made me nervous so I called Delta on Saturday to change to an earlier departure. In fact, I have made a total of 4 changes to our itinerary in the last 4 days and Delta has been amazingly accomodating. The reason, of course, has been the bombings in London. Delta management has apparently given their CSR’s carte blanche to make changes to itineraries for London. Our first change was due to the illness of my youngest, Meg. We were scheduled to leave this past Friday. Meg began running a high fever and vomiting about 8 days ago. By Thursday Night she was so weak I had to carry her from the bathroom to the bedroom. There was no way we could go on Friday. I called Delta to see what was happening and learned that, due to the bombings, they we granting special dispensations to travellers to London through July 11th. On Friday, when it was apparent that Meg was no better, I called Delta and changed our departure to Monday (today). Meg has been fit as a fiddle since Saturday morning.

Under normal circumstances, Delta will only allow changes to an itinerary when SkyMiles are used if SkyMiles seats are available (Delta allocates a limited number of SkyMiles seats per flight). And they normally charge $50 per ticket to do so. SkyMiles seats for international travel go very quickly. We booked these tickets 11 months ago on the first day that Delta would take reservations!

In addition to changing our departure date, I called on Saturday to change Jean’s return date (she is staying longer than I am) to August 6th from August 12th. I had to beg a little on this one since the dates were far outside the special dispensation dates granted by Delta management. And then called on Sunday to change our departure time to 1:30 from the original 2:45 which would have given us a very short layover in Atlanta.

Now we are delayed but still unconcerned (at least for now) because we were able to get our departure from GSP moved up. All because some terrorist wack jobs got their jollies by killing innocent people.

It is sad to benefit from the tragedy of others.

Steve