The car.
Cris found driving on the wrong side of the road was not as much of a problem as he thought it would be. The official explanation is "the boat has its helm on the right side, so he's had some practice." I kept trying to get in the wrong side of the car, but Cris handled things wonderfully. American's aren't really very good at roundabouts, as we don't have many, but other than that, Cris might have been driving in England his entire life.
Emily got hungry, as usual, so we stopped at a lay-by that promised breakfast. It turned out to be barely more than a caravan, that served traditional English cuisine--beans on toast, bacon sandwiches.
The kitchen is located behind the Jacquelines sign, and the squared off shanty with the Open sign held seating for about 8 people. We got our food to go.
While the food operation was quaint and rustic, the location was beautiful. Several people were fishing in the small creek from a bridge that looked like a Roman acquaduct.
With medieval turrets.
Bushes were in bloom, and several horses were pastured in an open field next to the creek.
A view toward the bridge.
A mare and foal.
Wildflowers
Wild strawberries
We drove west, and the scenery was just amazing. And for some reason, the beauty of the moors and the fact of being on the way to see where Charlotte, Emily and Anne lived just hit me, and I started crying. I can't explain why, and it was rather embarrassing, but I couldn't stop.
These pictures were taken from the car by Emily, because I couldn't see through the tears well enough to operate the camera.
Achingly lovely.
No comments:
Post a Comment