Living in a city like Washington, D.C., I sometimes have to pinch myself.  I have access to great restaurants, wonderful (mostly FREE) museums, and lovely scenery and weather practically all year long.  These days I’m too busy to take full advantage, but I’ve had days in the past where I nipped over to the National Gallery on my lunch hour, and I still get out for tasty lunches and dinners at my favorite restaurants.  And every so often I get lucky enough to play tourist in my own town and share my favorite places with visitors.  This past weekend was one of those weekends: my mom, my favorite aunt, and our close family friend visited for a ladies’ weekend.  And let me tell you, we did it up right.

There was food:

(Pictured: my lunch at Teaism, my old standby – seitan stir-fry, which is freaking delicious, and a mango lassi.  Unpictured: everybody else’s lunches at Teaism, which they said were delish – my mom had chicken curry, our friend had a salmon bento box, and darned if I can’t remember what my aunt had, but I know she loved it – our appetizer spread for dinner that night, our lunch at the American Indian Museum on Sunday, and our dinner of tilapia with brown-butter citrus sauce, roasted fennel and herbed orzo.  We were too busy eating to snap many pictures, sorry ’bout that.  It was all so stinking good.)

There were musums:

(That’s the atrium in the National Gallery, which is one of my favorite places in D.C.  We hit the old standards – the Impressionists and Ginevra de Benci, then moved on to the American History Museum and the First Ladies.)

On Sunday we took a long walk through the monuments, which is something I don’t do nearly as often as I should.  Spectacular…

Washington Monument

World War II Memorial

Korean War Memorial

FDR Memorial (my favorite!)

And a view of the Jefferson.

Thanks for a lovely weekend, ladies!  Come again anytime!

Although we stayed in England proper for most of our road trip, we did nip into Wales for a day trip on our way from Devon to the Cotswolds.  (I looked for Will and Kate, but didn’t see them.  Maybe next time.)  Our first destination was Tintern Abbey.

Tintern Abbey was stunningly beautiful.  There’s something about the carpet of emerald green grass below and the wide open sky above… I actually find these “ruined” abbeys more spiritual than most churches.  I got the shivers wandering up and down the nave, imagining what this place must have been like when it was in use.

To add to the mysterious vibe, there were white doves all over the place.  Check out this shot of one of the doves taking flight.  I’d think it was too perfect to be true, but I was there.  (Can’t take credit for the picture, though – that was all hubby.  He excels at capturing these wild moments.)

We wandered around the monastery compound, reading the placards that described what each foundation once was.  Here I am – I think – in the Abbot’s first house.  (Please excuse my hair.  I wore it down to keep my ears warm, but it was windy that day.)

If I should be where I no more can hear
Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams
Of past existence–wilt thou then forget
That on the banks of this delightful stream
We stood together; and that I, so long
A worshipper of Nature, hither came
Unwearied in that service: rather say
With warmer love–oh! with far deeper zeal
Of holier love.  Nor wilt thou then forget
That after many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,
And this green pastoral landscape, were to me
More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!

William Wordsworth, from “Lines Composed A Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey”

After exploring every corner of Tintern Abbey, we headed to Abergavenny, for the next stop on hubby’s family reunion tour 2011.

The main castle was built around the 1300s.  It was a smallish site, and interesting, but we had a different goal in mind.

See this hill?  It’s actually a “motte,” or a defensive fortification, built during Norman times by Hamelin de Ballon, the first Baron Abergavenny and one of hubby’s ancestors.  Hamelin came over from France as part of the Norman invasion and settled in Wales at the behest of his “BFF” (father-in-law’s term, not mine), William the Conquerer, to provide a civilized place for the Norman kings and knights to hang up their armor and to keep the locals quiet.  The motte is original, although the Norman tower is long gone and replaced with this modern structure, which is now a pretty interesting local museum.  Hubby wanted to see this piece of family history, so we decided to swing by and see about retaking the family castle.

Unfortunately, hubby’s plan to “take back the family castle” didn’t quite go.  His problem is that he’s just too nice.  Dude couldn’t even chase the teenage girls away from racing up and down the motte.  Ah, well, we like our digs in northern Virginia too much to leave, anyway.  😉

Wales was a fantastic day-trip!  And stay tuned for next Friday, because I already spilled the beans about our next destination, if you were reading closely.  And if you weren’t, I’ll say it again here: we’re off to the Cotswolds!

After four days in Cornwall we headed out, sad to leave but certain that we’d be back.  It was just too beautiful a place for us to stay away for long!  I considered staging a protest and refusing to leave – ever – but I did want to see the rest of the places we had planned, so I decided to be a big girl and stick to the road trip schedule.  Our next stop was a quick overnight to break up what would have otherwise been a long drive, but it ended up being a blast.

On our way out of Cornwall, we made one final stop: Tintagel.  Tintagel is famous as the birthplace of King Arthur, who… I hate to break this to you guys, I really do… probably didn’t exist.  (The legendary King Arthur is probably an amalgamation of regional kings, one of whom was indeed born at Tintagel.)  Tintagel was pretty cool.  The “castle” was mostly a pile of rubble, but the cove was beautiful, with more dramatic rock formations and bottle green water.  We scrambled down into the cove and spent about half an hour picking our way around the beach and exploring Merlin’s cave (the dark opening just above the water line in the pic above).

We set up camp for the night in Lynton, a lovely town on the north Devon coast.  Hubby chose this stop because it was just a few hours’ drive from Cornwall and made for a good in-between stop before our next destination.  I didn’t know anything about the town and had no idea what to expect, but I was charmed.

The town was not deserted by any stretch of the imagination.  There were a number of British families vacationing there, even in October, enjoying the peace and the natural beauty of Devon.  We stopped for sandwiches (I had cheese and pickle – so good) and tea at a small cafe, then wandered up and down the main drag, snapping pictures of the lovely Victorian-style buildings and the clear blue sky.

Lynton perches atop a steep hill – more of a cliff, really – overlooking the north Devon coast, and nestled into the base of the hill is its sister town, Lynmouth.  There is an extremely steep path with about a half dozen switchbacks leading from Lynton to Lynmouth (the path is part of the famous South West Coast Path we’ve already explored) so hubby and I decided to head on down and check out the beach and the town.

Here are more boats sitting on the sand in a drained harbor.  At this point we were starting to think that beached fishing boats were some kind of recurring theme of our trip.  Obviously we had to take more pictures.

Lynmouth was just as charming and adorable as Lynton, and we had a fabulous afternoon wandering around and looking into the shops.

The steep path isn’t the only way to get back up to Lynton from Lynmouth – there’s also the famous Lynton-Lymouth Cliff Railway, which runs straight up; I mean it, it’s practically vertical.  Hubby and I briefly debated taking the railway up, for the experience, but decided that we’d rather have the exercise and so we walked up the path.  Part of the path includes bridges that you can hang out on and watch the cliff railway from, so we took a few stops to catch our breath and watch the train go up and down.

When we got back, we were clearly starving after having burned a multitude of calories hiking pretty much straight up.  Our B&Ber recommended a tapas restaurant nearby, so we hit it up and enjoyed a fantastic Spanish meal with some wonderful fruity red wine.  For dessert we decided to try leche frita, a fried custard dish that we’d never had before, and this conversation ensued:

Waitress: “How is your dessert?”
Me: “Delicious, thank you!”
Hubby: “It reminds me of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”
Waitress: “What is Cinnamon Toast Crunch?”
Hubby: “It’s this cereal I have at home.  It’s baked rice and wheat squares coated in cinnamon and sugar.”
Waitress (enthralled): “That sounds lovely!”
Hubby (solemn): “It is lovely.”
Me: “It’s a children’s cereal.”

If looks could kill… I’d have died twice, because hubby and the waitress gave me identical poisonous glares.  Okay, okay, I’m the weirdo who doesn’t like cereal.  SORRY!  The leche frita was fabulous, though.  As was the entire meal.

The next morning, we headed out early.  We had a full day ahead of us, but we couldn’t leave Lynton without checking out one of the main attractions of the area: the Valley of Rocks.  This is a spectacular natural area within Exmoor National Park, and it’s less than a five minute drive from the center of town.  Hubby and I headed there and spent a blissful half hour or so poking around and watching the play of early morning sunlight on the rocks and the water – so beautiful.

For a quick overnight stop, Lynton more than delivered its share of charm and beauty!  Stop by next Friday for the next installment in our road trip of a lifetime.

We’re winding down our time in Cornwall, but before we leave I’d like to spend a little time exploring St. Ives with you.  On our last full day in Cornwall – which happened to be my birthday – hubby and I decided to stick close to home and spend a low-key day enjoying our surroundings.  We spent the morning checking out the cool modern art in the Tate St. Ives and while modern art usually isn’t my favorite, I really enjoyed the bright splashes of color and texture on the canvasses there.  After our dose of culture, we wandered around town and looked into the shops and alleys, then fortified ourselves with tea and scones at a cafe overlooking the harbor.  Hey, it’s my birthday – I can eat scones for lunch if I want!

As you can see, St. Ives is situated around a small harbor.  These boats were floating most of the time, but every day they would drain the harbor and the boats would lie beached until the water came back.  During that time kids and dogs would run around on the wet sand while the fishermen did their work on the piers.  Seeing the fishing boats sitting on solid ground was such a different and unique view – we couldn’t get enough staring at the rows of boats neatly lined up on the harbor floor.

So cool!  The bright pops of color on the boats against the taupe sand were such fun.  I’ll be blowing up at least one St. Ives picture for my house.

After wandering around town, we decided to venture out and walk a bit of the South West Coast Path just outside of town.  We checked out some beautiful views less than 10 minutes’ walk from the main drag of St. Ives.

Lovely.  I loved the dramatic waves crashing against the rock faces of the cliffs.  Like a painting.

Finally we found a flat rock and just sat down and enjoyed the view for awhile.  The Cornish coastline reminds me a great deal of northern California.  I felt like we were on a mistier, cooler version of our Point Reyes hike from 2009.  And if you know me well, you know I can’t resist a good view like this.  I was happy to sit there and drink it in for an hour.  In that moment, all I wanted for my 30th birthday was to teleport everyone I loved to St. Ives so they could see it too.  Since I couldn’t (I tried), you get this picture.  It doesn’t do justice to the wild beauty of Cornwall, but it’s the best I can do.

After meandering along the cliffs a bit more, we headed back to the B&B, where the sweet managers had left a wonderful bottle of Malbec in our room as a birthday present.  (Thanks, Tony and Carol!)  We savored it while looking at the stunning view from our room, then dressed up and walked back into town for a fabulous dinner and local Cornish wine.  Altogether, it was as perfect as days can get.  I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather have turned 30!

All good things must come to an end, and this is the end of our time in Cornwall (for now, anyway – we’ll be back for sure).  Check back next Friday to find out where we went next on our epic road trip through southern England!

Land’s End is one of the most beautiful places in Great Britain.  It’s also touristy and expensive.  While we were researching our trip, Hubby and I heard mixed reviews on Land’s End – that it was a must-see, but also irritatingly commercialized.  When we mentioned to the managers of our B&B that we were planning to see Land’s End, they suggested that we park a mile away, at Sennen Cove, and walk.  The primary selling point was that the parking at Sennen Cove was about a tenth of the cost of the parking at Land’s End.  That alone convinced us that it was the right plan!  But the walk ended up being a lovely mile along the cliffs looking out on stunning views of the Cornish coast.  Win.

The path from Sennen Cove to Lands End is part of the South West Coast Path, a 650 mile (give or take) path that runs around the entire peninsula encompassing both Devon and Cornwall.  Plenty of people make trips out of hiking the entire thing – that’s a dream for someday, when I have a LOT more time on my hands.  For now, hubby and I contented ourselves with hiking small stretches of the Coast Path and drinking in the gorgeous views.

About halfway between Sennen and Land’s End, we stopped to pose for some self-portraits.  Obviously.

St. Ives and the surrounding areas were a haven for artists.  The town of St. Ives had several cute art galleries featuring local art and crafts.  You can see why – the scenery in this part of England is just spectacular.  As we made our way from Sennen to Land’s End, we happened upon a painter doing a lovely oil painting of Land’s End.  If I had thought the paint would dry in time, I’d have tried to see if he would sell!

Honestly, I didn’t find Land’s End all that commercial… but that might have been due to the fact that I didn’t pay for parking, take the “required” picture in front of a sign with the mileage to Washington, D.C., or visit the cafe or gift shop.  We just wandered there over the cliffs, checked out the views, and then wandered back.  In my opinion, that was definitely the way to go!  On our way back to Sennen, the sun came out and the afternoon turned glorious.  We were actually thrilled that it was overcast up to that point, because the sun would’ve been in our eyes heading to Land’s End, but was behind us on the way back to Sennen.  We took our time over that mile, enjoying the craggy coastline, the brilliant blue water and the sunny skies overhead.

Finally, we found ourselves ambling down the hill and back into Sennen.  Although the walk was only about a mile each way, it was fairly strenuous – lots of climbing up and down.  But we don’t mind a bit of exercise – especially when it comes with these views!  Outrageous.  If you’re making plans to head for Land’s End at some point in the future, I’d definitely encourage you to avoid the colossal parking fees and enjoy a mile stroll (to-and-from) over the cliffs between Land’s End and Sennen Cove.

Next week we’re sticking around our home base in Cornwall, St. Ives.  Check back on Friday for shots of the town and more South West Coast Path!

In a couple of months, my parents are headed to Europe.  It will be my mom’s first time back since she was a little girl, and my dad’s first time ever.  They’re headed to Paris for a few days, then off on a cruise that departs from Barcelona and makes stops in Naples, Rome, Florence/Tuscany, Nice and Marseille.  I can’t even begin to describe how jealous I am – even though I was just in my beloved England a few months ago myself.  A few weeks ago the parental units visited and I was able to share some of my favorite places and activities in Paris and Provence (where they plan to day-trip).  I loaded them up with my Rick Steves guidebooks and French phrasebook, and I’ve been day-dreaming about Paris ever since.  And even though I have a different idea taking hold for 2012 travel, oh, how I would love to go back to Paris.

Favorite Paris moments and memories–

1.  “Rue Cler picnics” for breakfast under the Eiffel Tower – wedge of Brie, demi-baguette, pint of strawbs from Les Halles, cafe creme from Rousillon, blue skies overhead and green grass underfoot and La Tour casting its shadow over us.

2.  A French footballer dazzling the crowd with complicated tricks just outside Sacre-Cour, to the tune of… wait for it… French r&b.

3.  Sniffing tea leaves to my heart’s content while a dashing and patient Mariage Freres employee took box after box down from the wall in the awe-inspiring but cozy flagship store in the heart of the Marais.  He never mocked my broken French and he was able to decipher my incoherent mumblings to figure out the ultimate perfect tea for my tastes – Etoile de France.

4.  Shivering like a leaf in a September breeze but being unwilling to sacrifice even one drop of the remarkable salted caramel ice cream from Berthillon on Ile Saint-Louis.

5.  Breezing into Oliviers & Co. and tossing off a “Je regarde!” and then hiding my face so the clerk wouldn’t see how proud I was of my rudimentary French-speaking abilities.

6.  Cafe-sitting… cafe-sitting… cafe-sitting.  Le Petit Cler was our favorite.  We munched escargots, sipped kir royale, and debated whether we should try out the gelato shop next door (that was churning out dozens of happy customers with dripping cones) or track down a pint of Berthillon.

7.  Old men meandering down the street, snacking on the end of a fresh baguette in a paper sleeve.  Did their wives expect delivery of an unblemished loaf?  If so, they were sure to be disappointed.

8.  Monet paintings taking up my entire field of vision at the Musee l’Orangerie.

9.  The sounds and textures of the foods – crisp corners of flaky, buttery croissant and the snap-snap-snap of delicate macaron shells as I bit into them, ever anxious to get to the jammy middle layer.

10.  Ordering bottles of Chorey-les-Beaune and conjuring up vivid images of the village itself, which hubby and I had just biked through only days before.

Have you been to Paris?  What did you love most?

Back to Cornwall!  We woke up on our first morning ready to do some sightseeing – after tea, of course.  We knew that we wanted to go to St. Michael’s Mount, a historic monastery that became a family home for many generations, which is set on a hill in the middle of a small cove.  When the tide is out, you can walk to the “island” via a stone causeway… but beware the tide coming in while you’re on the island!  You might find yourself swimming back to the mainland.

We walked over the causeway and yes, we did manage to make it back to shore before the tide came in.  But not before checking out the inside of the castle (which boasted ancient weapons, stained glass, a family chapel and a snapshot of Prince Charles and the Duchess of Cornwall posing with the family on a visit a few years ago)…

We checked out the beautiful gardens.  Cornwall is almost a unique climate in England – much warmer than the rest of the country, and we even saw palm trees!  That’s right, palm trees in England.  Wonders never cease!  The gardens at St. Michael’s Mount were lovely and well-tended.

We finished our morning at St. Michael’s Mount by climbing up to the top of the castle and checking out the view.  Hubby was impressed by the defensibility of the castle and all the cannons.  I liked the spare, elegant black-and-white Cornish flag and the views out to sea.

On our way to our next destination, we made a quick stop at the Merry Maidens stone circle.  We’re turning into stone circle afficianados, apparently – what with visiting Castlerigg up in the Lake District in 2008, and Avebury and Stonehenge already on this trip.  And I swear I saw a mini stone circle in Easton Cross the night before our Dartmoor hike, outside a nursery school.  (Do English children play with stone circles the way American children play with teepees?  This fascinates me.)

Next we hit the Minack Theatre, which came highly recommended by our B&Bers.  (We mostly just did what they told us to do for our three days in Cornwall and it worked out beautifully.  Atlantic Heights B&B, if you’re ever in Cornwall – I can’t say enough good things about them!)  The Minack Theatre is situated above Porthcurno Beach, a stunning white-sand cove.  We arrived as the sun was breaking through the clouds and setting up a glorious afternoon, and we discovered that the sea in Cornwall is Caribbean blue.  I was expecting steely grey and instead found this.  Perfection.

The landscapers had planted the theatre with a bevy of blossoms, but I was particularly fascinated by these cacti that looked like roses.  Anyone know what they are?  I so want a cactus rosebush for my backyard.

You must be wondering about this theatre.  A few decades ago, a local theatre maven decided to build a theatre into the side of a cliff.  For realses.  They perform mostly Shakespeare in this outdoor space, although they do a few other plays as well.  Can you imagine seeing A Midsummer Night’s Dream on a sparkling Cornish evening from one of these seats, overlooking Porthcurno?  And now I will proceed to spend the rest of my life plotting ways to make that dream happen.

Carved into the “seats” are names of plays that the theatre has seen.  Plenty of Shakespeare, as you can see, but plenty else to tempt a hopeless theatre junkie like me!  (Sadly, it was the off-season, so there were no plays to be seen.)

Lastly, a view of the stage.  Is this not the most ravishing “backstage” you’ve ever seen?  I hopped up onstage and recited a little bit of Helena’s “O Spite” monologue from Midsummer.  (Took second place for me in my high school’s Shakespeare competition.)  Oh, yes, I am so dying to get back there to see a performance!

Stay tuned next Friday, because there are more Cornish explorations to come!

All right, kids, here we go.  We’re finally on our way to CORNWALL!  Which is, oh, just a place that I’d, like, always wanted to visit.  But first things first.  On our way out of Dartmoor, we saw a yak in the road.  Seriously, he was just there, chowing down on some heather or something.  At least, I think he was a yak.  My mom said that’s what he was, and she taught first and second grade for years, so she’s well versed in animals-starting-with-the-letter-[fillintheblank].

Yak photography adventures over, we headed west, bound for Cornwall.  I’ll admit I was a little nervous about this part of the trip.  Our guidebook didn’t exactly recommend Cornwall – not that it discouraged going there, but it just wasn’t one of the places that Rick Steves thought was worth our limited time in England.  And while I’ll usually trust Rick, I had really always wanted to go to Cornwall.  Or, well, maybe not always, but certainly since the first time I read Daphne du Maurier’s classic suspense novel Rebecca.  And we had sought the advice of a friend who lived in England for four years, and she encouraged us to go.  But there was a lot of pressure riding on these few days in Cornwall.  Not only were we flying blind for at least part of the time (since our guidebook didn’t include Cornwall, we had a couple of ideas for activities but not enough to fill our time there), but one of our Cornwall days was my 30th birthday.  I had spent a lot of time thinking to myself along the lines of, “I really can spend my 30th birthday anywhere in the world that I want to, so where do I want to go?”  That’s a lot of pressure to put on a destination.

Wait, but first we have to get there!  Hubby mapped out a route to drive from Dartmoor to Cornwall, and planned a stop in the middle to stretch our legs.  He literally picked a spot halfway along the drive or so, then looked for attractions nearby.  And what he found was Restormel Castle.  Apparently he thought it was just a pile of ruins, and we were really just there to walk around a bit and get the blood flowing before we finished the drive to St. Ives.  But it turned out to be a really well-preserved and fascinating site!

The castle ruins included a large green in the middle, and were perfectly safe to wander about and climb on (using the stairs, of course).  And to add to the experience, each “room” in the castle included an informative placard explaining what the room was used for when this was a working castle.  We saw the kitchen, the chapel, the lord’s bedroom, and others.  Hubby and I finished off the visit with a walk around the upper ring of the ruins… well, almost a run for him – he doesn’t much like heights – and a stroll for me, since I lurve heights.  (Really, I do.  I have a thing for views from high places and I could spend hours gazing from an observation post.  The higher the elevation, the better.)

Then we wandered around the outside of the ruins a bit, checking out the fortifications and some more views, before reluctantly heading back toward the car.  For a quick stretch-the-legs stop that we really didn’t know anything about, Restormel Castle was a fun and fascinating adventure!  We’d have liked to stay longer, but we had to get moving to…

St. Ives!  I picked this cute surfer town for my b-day celebrations with the help of TripAdvisor and my aforementioned friend, who had been here and highly recommended it.  This (above) was the view from our B&B.  Stunning, no?  Hubby and I rolled in and were treated to a lovely cup of tea and a chat with the B&B managers, and then ambled down the hill to explore the city.  But that’s a story for another week… because there’s plenty more Cornwall to come!

Stay tuned, because next Friday we’ll explore more of Cornwall…

After visiting Avebury and Stonehenge (yes, on the same day; slow blogger, sorry), hubby and I drove over to Salisbury to visit the Cathedral.  Salisbury Cathedral came highly recommended by my father-in-law, who had visited on a choir tour and told us it was a can’t-miss destination.  Now, I won’t pretend to be an architecture buff (wish I was, but I have plenty of hobbies already), but I’ve visited my share of cathedrals – York Minster, Westminster Abbey, and St. Paul’s in England; Notre-Dame, St. Severin, Sainte-Chappelle and Sacre-Cour in France; St. John the Divine in New York and the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C., for instance.  (I think I also visited one or two cathedrals in Germany during my exchange student days, but I was sixteen and most of the pictures I took were of German boys.  Just telling it like it is.)  So, to the extent that I’ve seen a few cathedrals and therefore have some degree of credibility, I’ll tell you that Salisbury was one of my favorites.

The Cathedral was a short walk from the center of Salisbury, a lovely town in its own right.  Hubby and I split a pasty for lunch – which quickly became our go-to routine for mid-day – and ate it while walking through town to the Cathedral Green.  We took our time wandering around outside, admiring the graceful architecture and ornamental carvings.

The interior of the Cathedral was just as impressive as the exterior.  Intricate stained-glass windows lined every wall, from the nave to the side-chapels.  The stone ceilings defied gravity and soared – or so it seemed – up to Heaven itself.  And the side-chapels boasted old, faded, but still grand flags (one of my favorite things about English cathedrals; it seems I rarely find flags in other cathedrals).

We stopped into this small free-standing chapel on an assignment from my father-in-law.  Inside the chapel we found a decorated ceiling with a relief-carved pomegranate and apple motif.  The apple was the symbol of England’s King Henry VIII (he of six-wives fame).  The pomegranate was the symbol of his first wife, Queen Catherine of Aragon.  When Henry created the Church of England and divorced Catherine, he ordered her pomegranate symbols destroyed wherever they could be found – but somehow this one was missed.  Catherine of Aragon is a distant ancestor of hubby’s, so my father-in-law told us to keep an eye out for this special bit of family history.

Can you spot the pomegranates?  Salisbury Cathedral was a gorgeous place and a meaningful – if brief – stop on our southern England road trip!  I’m sure it’s one that we will want to re-visit in the future.

Stay tuned for the next stop on our southern England tour, coming up next Friday!