The Summer I Became A Wanderer (2 - Stonehenge/Salisbury/Alicante/Elche)

Let's pretend like I haven't disappeared off the face of the planet for the last 6 months and get back to the riveting recount of my amazing European summer trip! We're going to hammer these out with photos and descriptions, okay? Okay. This is August 10 - 12, 2016.

Kit left for France on the morning of August 10th and we kept contact while we were in separate countries. The following days were spent exclusively between Spanglish and I.

This day we did a little walkabout of the Guildford high street, which was cobblestoned and adorable, and paused for lunch at a little riverside pub called The White House.

Outside a quaint restaurant in Guildford, these willow trees made me feel like I was home.

 

 

 

Tourist central: it was difficult to get a good photo without other folks in it, or truly enjoy this landmark without screaming/playing children and being bumped into by other tourists who wanted to move along faster than you did.

After lunch we headed out to one of the main landmarks I wanted to see while I was in England: Stonehenge. Yes, this ancient rock formation has drawn quite a crowd over the years and it's nothing like it was before - to see it now you pay to get in, as if it were a museum, and are bussed out with countless other tourists to the stones, then lined up with phones that tell you facts about each part of the landmark as you go along. My main issue with this experience was the lack of respect - I have nothing against children but when they are running around, making noise, pushing past adults and being generally poorly contained I strike an issue. It took away from the experience and made it difficult to enjoy. You also were completely surrounded by and being shuffled along by other tourists, so it felt more like a "tourist trap" than what I thought it was meant to be. 

Customary Stonehenge selfie, minus selfie stick (which I can't bring myself to purchase) which would have resulted in a much better picture.

That being said, I was happy to have gone, and still think on it often as I look back at photos. I am so thankful to have been in close proximity to something that has seen so many decades. 

Despite the constant movement of an insane amount of people, I saw these ancient stones, and that is enough for me.

The next stop on today's road trip was Salisbury; here is the inside of the cathedral. A choir singing inside cut our visit short, but funnily enough the singers were from Ontario, Canada!

 Next stop of the day was Salisbury Cathedral - I didn't get many pictures, as when we entered a service began and we were halted in our tour. We ended up sitting for a minute to enjoy the singing before heading out for some dinner and then back to Guildford for a quiet evening.

The Salisbury Cathedral from the outside - it took some time and awkward posing to get the whole thing in one frame. This thing is truly massive.

The beginning of August 11 saw a quiet morning of packing before heading to the Bournemouth airport to fly to sunny Alicante! I was enthralled with the prospect of going to not just one, but two countries I'd never been to before in one trip.

Right about here is where the days start blending together. Spain in general was an incredible experience - despite the obvious language hurdle, I got along as well as I could, and my full-time translator of a boyfriend helped me out immensely. I managed to start pulling out words I remembered, recognized or could otherwise figure out or guess the meanings of.

The flight was uneventful and short, and we were greeted by warm Mediterranean air and a slew of people - what I didn't realize about Spain is the simply cultural difference of when things are done. This is by no means a bad thing, but it did take getting used to. The air of "vacation" and general optimistic, happy atmosphere was contagious. I can happily say despite a couple of overwhelming moments I was, for the most part, very happy here.

We arrived around 9 pm and were picked up at the airport by Spanglish's darling mother. She is possibly the kindest tiny person on this planet - she stands about as tall as my own mother does, and is very doting and loving right off the bat. What was most unusual about Spain is the cultural differences - while my sleepy plane brain was thinking, let's check into a hotel and get some sleep, the Spanish people were just gearing up for dinner service!

Here is the Santisima Trinidad - a to-scale recreation of the original warship which sunk. This is actually a floating restaurant! We passed it on our way to the Melia Alicante hotel which is where the two of us stayed for most of the trip. The three of us dropped everything off at the hotel and went out for dinner at a restaurant quite close to where Spanglish's mother lives - going out for pasta at 10 pm was a little odd, but when in Rome...(or in this case, Spain!).

The next day brought more wandering around, palm trees, and beautiful scenery. Because I live in BC, it felt very surreal to be surrounded by mountains that had no snow on them! In this incredible palm tree park, in which a 200 year old palm tree stands in the center, we met some dogs, some baby peacocks (and adults!), and other little creatures. As an animal lover this place really made me a happy tourist. Spanglish's family (extended, uncles, cousins, aunts) joined us and I can't for the life of me remember all of their names. However they were all lovely, and as European people do, were very friendly and encouraging. They knew I didn't speak Spanish and made an effort to make themselves understood and allow my boyfriend to translate my responses. I have, on my fridge, a photo from this day attached to a calendar. One thing I noticed about touristy spots like this is the staff take a group photo at the start which they then print onto various things and try and sell you at the end. This seems equally wasteful and intrusive, but it's a cultural thing I'm sure. Spanglish's mother bought me this little calendar as a gift which I at first refused, but she pushed into my hands. Of course I am grateful for the kindness she showed to me while I was there, but if you know me you know I dislike being given things, or "treated" to things. However, what I quickly learned about her is it'll be worse for you if you don't, so just let her do as she likes! I mean that as nicely as I can. 

After much needed sleep, August 12th was traveling to Elche and this beautiful palm tree garden, called Jardin Artistico Nacional Huerto Del Cura. Yes, I did copy and paste that link, so you should be able to check it out for yourself. It was beautiful, but holy was it ever hot!

The 200 year old palm tree!

A fountain at the entrance to the park.

After lunch with everyone, we wandered our way back through Alicante in the daylight to take in the sights!

 On our way back from Elche the group of us stopped for yet another drawn-out but delicious seafood lunch. I eat primarily vegetarian, which in Spain means fish - and that's okay with me on occasion. Most of my diet in Spain consisted of bread, fish/seafood, salads, fruits and veggies, and sangria. It's definitely not a BAD way to spend five days. 

Another interesting thing about Spain is how long meals are - and this is normal. People eat lunch around 2 pm, when it's hottest outside and you naturally want to avoid being out there: and lunch could last until 5! I'm used to getting a half hour or hour break for lunch and then get on with the day. Going out for a meal felt like a marathon event.

I never found out what these trees are called, but the last time I saw trees this big was in Hawaii.

Another view of the Santisima, with the gorgeous teal water that I never managed to get time to dip my toe in. Our hotel is in the backdrop, not that it's too easy to see.

We rounded out this day with a quick chill out in the hotel before meeting up with almost everyone yet again for dinner - which again turned into a nearly 3 hour situation. Seafood paella and some of the best tomatoes I've ever had in my life (again, you order vegetarian and they give you fish and salad) and a glass of crisp, tasty white wine later, we were going for a stroll on the promenade, which I didn't get a proper photo of due to the high volume of people on it. By the end of the night, it had been a very long day, and this was the time when I suddenly became overwhelmed and begged my companion to let me go back to the quiet peace of the hotel to gather myself and calm down. It was the closest I felt to panicky in a foreign country, and I'm happy to report it was the only major blip in an otherwise incredible trip. 

After a nap and relax session at the stunning hotel, we met up with the rest of the family again for dinner. Again this was later in the day, probably around 8 or 9, and it was a splendid meal by sunset next to the harbour. Of course we had to take a selfie against the boat as well - see, our game is improving by this point in the trip. Spain treated us well.

Goodnight on the first full day in Spain.

The Summer I Became A Wanderer (2 - Stonehenge/Alicante/Guadalest)

The Summer I Became A Wanderer (1 - London/Guildford/Arundel)

Good afternoon, from stormy Campbell River where I am currently residing in the chilly winds of Autumn, the warming comfort of earl grey tea, and the persisting sandpaper struggle that is tonsillitis. Today, after being home for about 3 weeks, I have decided it's time to write what will inevitably be a long post about my summer vacation. For those of you that are visual, you'll enjoy that I'm essentially just going to attach a ton of photos and call it done - there's so much to cover that happened over the course of 15 days, so without further ado let's just get started!

We start at 4 am on Friday, August 4th. I flew out of Campbell River and landed in Vancouver to discover my international flight didn't even open their counter until 10:30, so realistically I didn't need to be as early as I was. The benefit was that I could sit and chill out for a bit with some breaky and do a bit of reading before I was even able to check my massive suitcase. That was okay; I am too paranoid about being late to these things so I would always choose being 4 hours early over half an hour behind.

The international flight was roughly 9.5 hours. By the time I got onto the plane and wasn't even out of Canada I had been up for 12 hours straight. 

One of the views from our plane flying over the Rockies.

I tried sleeping on the plane, I really did. You may or  may not know this about me, but I have difficulty sleeping at the best of times, let alone sitting up, around strangers, far too high up in the air with a small child behind me who screeched words seemingly at random whenever he felt he needed to break the silence. So in short, I had no difficulty being tired or drowsy, but barely caught an hour's worth of light naps over the course of the trip, so eventually I gave up and just kept watching movies. By the time I landed safely in London Gatwick, by my calculation even though it was 7:30 am there I had been awake more or less for 18 hours straight. Once I cleared customs and everything I managed to get completely turned around and the lovely people that were picking me up had to basically direct me back through the airport and back to where I'd started. Once we finally met up and got back to the hotel my friend (we'll call her Kit, which is an old nickname but I don't want to publish her actual name here just in case) had stayed at the night before with her family, I was able to shower quickly, refresh and wake myself up. Going on hour 20, but not wanting to waste the day in London, we organized parking for the other friend (let's call him Spanglish, which really is an affectionate nickname, I promise xD)'s car and headed out for the train station. What surprised me the most about London is that it's very similar to Vancouver, just with obviously British citizens and British quirks, but essentially it is very close to other major cities. The train system was kind of nuts, to be honest, and if I didn't have Spanglish with me who knew a little better how to connect on them I would have been hopelessly lost. 
We got into London and the first thought was exploring. We ended up at St Paul's Cathedral, which is in it's way spectacular. We spent easily about 3 hours inside. You aren't allowed to take pictures in there, but outside you can.

One of the views of the massive and beautiful cathedral

First look at St Paul's Cathedral

 What I didn't know about St Paul's is the stairwell. Well, that's not true. I was told that you can walk up to the top and see the views of the city. I was excited about that - by this point it was roughly 2 pm in the afternoon. If I had been up for 20 hours at "breakfast" (the other two ate while I had coffee as my stomach was turning enough to give me no appetite for greasy, meaty British food) around 9, it was now going on 25 hours with no sleep. So I was following like a tired sheep and we started walking up the winding staircase to the top of the cathedral. What I didn't realize is how narrow, winding, and simply long the staircase was. It wasn't the physical effort that this took that winded me (our legs were all jelly when we did get down eventually!), it was the enclosed space, people boxing me in on either side; it was one-way, you had to keep going. There was no option to escape. By the time I got to the top I was winded, dizzy, and on the verge of tears. It sounds silly, but any of you out there who suffer from claustrophobia will understand what something like that will do to you. Aside from anxiety and generalized panic attacks I am also claustrophobic. That makes cramming into a bus, or subway train, or making my way up narrow, enclosed, stone staircases very difficult for me. I sat down at the top and thankfully was with the two people that understand my claustrophobia and panic - and they wanted to keep going. There is a top part that goes outside the tower and you get to see the city. I wanted so badly to see these breathtaking views - but now I was to the point that if I didn't sit down and breathe through it I was going to have an attack. So I sat, I shook my head, and I said, "I can't. I just can't go up there." They understood - they went up to the top and said they'd be back soon. I instead sat and gazed at the saints above me, the sheer size of the dome that held them, and occasionally, bravely, leaned close to the edge protected by a wrought iron fencing to peek down at the cathedral below. Time passed and they had yet to come back down. It took me about 20 minutes of sitting and calming down before I realized the path heading up was probably also a one-way, and they wouldn't be coming back into this area. I started making my way down and they met me part way, thankfully, and reunited we headed out for some much needed dinner.
After dinner, more exploring...

St Bartholomew's Hospital; it's seen better days

 I don't know why this retired hospital spoke to me. Something about the smashed and patched up windows, the cobwebs, the eerie "has-been" feeling about it stuck. 
Walking a little further brought us to an eerier section - the Priory of Bartholomew The Great - a house wedged between more modern buildings, and just past it a massive church.

Front view of the church

Area next to the church. A plaque on the wall dictated that this where many a hanging had once taken place.

 Part of what made this area creepily fascinating was that there were unmarked tombstones all around. There were a few under the church, and a few against these trees. There was no way to know how long they had been there, or if they belonged to those that were put to death under these trees. 
After the church we wandered a little bit more; came across some more abandoned buildings that looked to be factories in their heyday. It was interesting to see this off-the-beaten-path history; everything in England was so aesthetically interesting and drew my attention. I spent a lot of time trying not to trip over myself as I was gazing aimlessly at the architecture that surrounded me. On our way back to the main section where St Paul's was, we headed to a footpath bridge called the Millennium Bridge. It was extremely busy, being seemingly the simplest way to cross the river in this area, so it was tricky to get good photos, but it was still such a pretty way to access the other side of the river. 

View of the river from the other side of the Millennium Bridge

 On this side of the river was Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, which was very exciting to see, being a literature nerd as I am. Once we'd called it done for the day, and taken the long series of trains back to Gatwick to the hotel for the night, I calculated I'd been up almost 32 hours straight, and the three of us had clocked around 16 km walking! It was a really great, but full day, and I can tell you I slept for 9 hours straight once we got back. Sleep deprivation does things to you, for sure. I am happy to have so many pictures to look back on because I don't remember that day in particular clarity.

Day 2

The next day was another adventure in London with friends. We took the train in to meet up with one of Kit's friends, one she's actually known longer than she's known me! The four of us get along great. The first stop was your quintessential parliament buildings and Big Ben. We also passed by the London Eye, but did not go on it because a) it cost 40 pounds to go on PER PERSON, which is roughly the equivalent of about $80 Canadian! and b) the London Eye is huge and very tall. Apparently once you get on you're on it for about 45 minutes and it moves very slowly. The idea of being that high up for that long simply didn't appeal to me.

Day 2 and we may have this train thing figured out yet.

The parliament buildings and the classic Big Ben!

Not our best selfie work, and not that you can tell, but selfie in front of the parliament building

As touristy as this was, the clock was incredible.

 From there it was on to the National Gallery which had a huge fountain in front of it. We stopped here for some lunch and water, as it was uncharacteristically hot this day in London. We'd already done a bit of walking so we needed a sit-down for a second. The fountain managed to get all of us soaked, which was shocking at first but then kind of nice, as like I said it was a hot day. Once we'd caught a breather we then wandered past the Canadian Embassy to the infamous Buckingham Palace. It is essentially a tourist trap, but I'd be a poor tourist if I didn't at least come close to it. You'll see in the photo that there's a massive crowd around it, and I'd never get a good picture with that many people standing around anyways, so this is the best I could do.

Tourist trap  Buckingham Palace

The BC crest on the Canada gate

 Past the palace there was a Canadian gate with crests for each province. I requested we get a photo underneath it, to "represent" as it were, and accidentally ended up underneath the BC crest. I didn't even realize until I looked closer that there were crests for the provinces and territories, and the closest pillar to us just happened to be our home province! Too perfect.
Next we walked through the trails outskirting the palace to the next train station to try and catch the British Museum before they closed. 

One of the exhibits that allowed photos

We only ended up spending about an hour in the museum before they were getting close to closing, so after a quick stop at the gift shop we headed out for a refreshment before going back to the train station to start the long journey back into Gatwick, and the car ride into Guildford where Spanglish lives. 

Day 3

Time for a road trip. Over the previous two days we clocked 31 km of walking and our feet hurt. The first stop was a beautiful country road that hides a cemetery and chapel - started by Mary Watts, and therefore named Watts Cemetery.

The chapel was beautifully detailed.

 Our resident Spanglish took this great fisheye photo of the two of us inside the chapel. It seemed very Irish/Celtic in design and decoration. Is it odd to find cemeteries and chapels like this, hidden away in the woods, to be soothing and intriguing? Does anyone else go see cemeteries and walk quietly past the headstones, reading about people long since gone, reading what's been inscribed about their lives and their families? Well, if you do, England is the place for you. There's churches, cathedrals, chapels, cemeteries, everywhere. And everything in this corner of the world is steeped in history. 

The incredible celtic-type chapel

 Running ahead, as we do, Kit was behind us by the road at this point with her zoom lens on her camera and said something at some point that made us crack up. Unbeknownst to us, this is the result. While I don't normally like photos of myself with my mouth open, because of my horrific crooked teeth, this one I like. While it seems backwards to be laughing in a cemetery, I feel it is beneficial. While there are people interred here who suffered there are also those that lived good lives and should be remembered in light and not consistently in darkness or sadness. This is why I am largely in favor of celebrations of life rather than wakes or funerals. It's more important to remember the good, the happy memories, than the sadness that they have left us. 

Laughing in a cathedral - altruistic?

 Alright, after the chapel we took to the road again, this time heading towards Arundel. What I didn't know at the time is this would be my favorite castle that we saw on this trip - and believe me, there were a few! 
Arundel was possibly the largest and best preserved of the castles we went to. It also was more self-guided, so you could wander within the walls and view the rooms in your own time. There were paintings and ornate pieces of furniture at every turn; exposed rock from the original castle and sections that had been patched. Every area had something written that you could read that told you about how things were laid out, what the items were, and what they meant to the people at the time, with dates. These are the "museums" I love the most - the ones that are organized in their original setting, more or less, so you feel as though you are transported back to that time. Of course, you are not allowed to take photos inside the larger, newer part of the castle, but we did get some outside and in the grounds around it. 
Outside the older part of the castle awaited. This was referred to as the "keep", or the medieval fortress section of the original castle that was still standing. What was incredible was just to put your hand on stones that had been used by so many at one time, and had been standing for so many years. It's incredible what we can preserve in this modern world. 

Outside the main gate into Arundel castle. In case you couldn't tell, this trip I became braver with clothing choices. Baby steps.

How do I put into perspective just how big this is?

The stairs heading into the keep, facing down to the newer part of the castle

After spending at least 2 hours within the castle and seeing the keep at the top, and the incredible views, we finally went back down to the grounds to explore. There were 6 or 7 gardens, of which we only had time for 2. We could easily have spent another 2 hours there, but by this time we needed to get back to the car and get going on to the last stop of the day, which was about an hour down the road. I didn't get the names of these gardens, but the one pictured below was past a church next to the castle. There were ivy covered archways, gardens surrounding full of lush flowers, and this large cathedral in the distance. Again I neglected to get the name of it, but it was so beautiful. All the architecture in this area was splendid to see. Historically I learned that years and years ago, before the plague, if these buildings were standing they would have been painted. The art on the sides and within would have been delicately painted in color. After the plague the gothic style of architecture became more popular and has stuck since - so sculptures and decorations on these buildings would have been very detailed, but left in stone or simply adorned, rather than intricately painted in the times before. 

Incredible cathedral in the distance

Back to the cathedral, the view of the courtyard and ivy covered tunnels

After leaving Arundel we started the journey to Bournemouth for dinner and some beach time. I think I'm still finding sand in my shoes from this - we watched the sun go down on the beach which was beautiful but also very sandy and very cold! All I could think was how much my little red dog would love this beach - it was almost all sand; there were a few stones here and there but nothing like our west coast. If it hadn't been so cold I would have dipped my toes in the ocean just to say I did. Looking back now I totally should have! Just being by the ocean made me feel more at home. I could never live somewhere without my favorite naturally occurring source of peace and tranquility. 
After 3 long days, we made the long journey back to Guildford to drop Kit off at her friend's house. They were leaving very early the next morning for a flight to Paris! Meanwhile, Spanglish and I went back to his house to get a much needed rest - he'd done so much driving in one day, and more to come the next - because the next day would be the long-awaited Stonehenge! 

Alright, that's days 1-3 of my trip so far. I hope it's not horribly boring for my general lack of readership; but it's nice to be writing again, even if it's a simple blog post that leaves everything to pictures. Depending on how tomorrow goes I may be back again with the next part. 
Love you for reading!