Ken's Travel Blog - A Journeyman's Companion

In Transit - Gothenburg to Stockholm

2015-06-20T06:58:00.002-04:00

Early day today -- 7 AM train from Gothenburg to Stockholm.

I love to people-watch, especially when I'm touring new places. It's usually as much fun as the destination itself. But not when you become involved in the action.

In school we practiced fire drills. An orderly and efficient transfer of a large number of people from one place to another place, yet with a sense of urgency.

The inter-city train approached the platform at Gothenburg Central. The platform was full. The train was on-time. Dad and I, having had a quick bite of what passes for "breakfast" at the B&B, were anxious to climb aboard, get settled, and maybe get a little more food in our bellies from the cafe car.

The train slowed, then stopped. The doors opened. So did the floodgates.

Out of nowhere, a large group of elderly tourists swarmed the door to our assigned train carriage. They literally shouldered their way to the front of the queue led by a shrill-voiced diminutive older woman who was shouting and pleading with her group. The language was not one I understand, but I imagined that she was a modern day cowpoke, a disastrously inept one, like Barney Fife on a horse. About 20 of them, all wearing hats, cameras slung around their necks, and dragging huge luggage -- the great, big hard-sided aluminum jobs.

It became immediately obvious that few of the elderly tour group could lift their massive bags. If they couldn't roll them they couldn't move them, and there were three steep steps from the platform into the train car. I watched a couple of the men in the group step forward to try and lift the bags into the train, with poor results. Yelling and carrying-on ensued.

Finally another guy on the platform and I, as a pure matter of self-interest, stepped forward to haul the aircraft-grade aluminum behemoths into the train. Baggage in, the members of the gray-haired brigade mounted the train. And stopped. They wanted to rearrange their luggage in the luggage racks at the end of the car. Despite earlier experience, they still couldn't lift the things. Being frustrated, I just grabbed their luggage and started heaving it into the racks willy-nilly and shooed them to their seats.

Most passengers finally found their seats. And the train started to move. Progress, albeit late. Our on-time train was now 7 minutes late pulling out of the station!

The fun didn't end there. Apparently some of the group were assigned seats in the adjoining car. Hilarity ensued as the tour leader marshaled a pair of the men to extract bags from the baggage storage and haul them through our car to the next. The leader and her assistant then marched up and down the car to instruct various people to exchange seats. And maybe to dance the Lambada in the aisle as they did so. It took about 20 minutes for that dance to subside.

I mentioned that my Dad and I were still hungry. We opted instead for a couple of beers -- thank God the cafe car agreed to sell them to us so early in the morning!

Tips to tour groups and those who encounter them:

Only travel with a bag that you can comfortably lift and carry, unassisted, for short distances.
Tour groups should alight trains last. Let the "regular" folk enter and sit first. Faster for all.
Make darn sure you get off the train ahead of the tour group

Next stop - Stockholm, Sweden -- the Vasa Museum, our stay in a house boat hotel "in the heart of the city", a royal wedding and much more!!

Gothenburg, Sweden - One Day Only

2015-06-14T10:01:00.000-04:00

A museum in Göteborg at twilight. We weren't able to visit it.

We left the wonderful city of Copenhagen early in the morning on the first of our multi-leg train journey, this time via a high-speed train to Gothenburg, Sweden. At some points along the journey the train exceeded 200 km/h, which is a lot in American. Take that Amtrak! Congress should be ashamed.

We planned a single night in Gothenburg (also spelled Gothenberg, Göteborg, Gotenberg, Gotenburg) mainly so Dad could have his pilgrimage to the Volvo Museum, one of his anticipated trip highlights. I was looking forward to the museum, too.

We arrived in comfort at a little before Noon after having made a train change in Malmö, Sweden. We sought out our B&B (no hostel this time), Le Mat B&B. Google Maps is a really useful app to point and guide you to the right place, but it's not perfect. Case in point - we arrived at the location for the B&B, and even saw a sign on the building for it. What neither Google Maps, nor the hotel's booking confirmation, revealed is that the proper entrance for the place is actually around the corner. The B&B is on the fourth and fifth floors of an office building. Weird, I know. Thing is, we entered the back entry where there was just a small entryway, and elevator and a winding staircase. No signage in or out of the elevator. So, because he's old, I had my Dad wait in the entryway while I climbed the stairs, level by level, until I finally found a door with a tiny little sign above the doorbell which said "L.Mat". I tried to text my dad to take the elevator to the right floor, but he doesn't have phone/text service over here. So down the stairs I went.

Safely in the elevator and to the door, we rang. There was silence and a long wait. Finally a woman answered the door, looking annoyed. We asked if this was the right place and she said that it was, but that we had come to the wrong door. She led us the length of the building to the reception area and had us check in. Our room was basic (we knew it would be) and did not have any windows (we saved $10 that way). Toilet and shower was just down the hall. That said, everything was scrupulously clean and we were OK with the location.

We left the hotel shortly afterwards (but we always take advantage of a place to pee for free when in Europe!) We walked around a corner to the local döner establishment which sells burgers, kebabs, falafel, etc. and had lunch - kebab for Dad and the world's worst hamburger for me. From there we took a public bus to the Volvo Museum. It was a long bus journey, as the museum is located amid Volvo's offices in the shipping/manufacturing district on the outskirts of the city. We passed giant Maersk shipping containers piled 6 high. And there we were, the Volvo Museum!

Old Volvos, specialty Volvos, and an exhibit showing the progression of the models through the present day. There was even an exhibit about Volvo heavy equipment, buses and concept cars. Of note, it was Volvo which developed and employed the first three-point seatbelt. The three-point seatbelt is crediting with saving more lives in an automobile than any other safety innovation.

But my favorite exhibit was this:

A full-size Volvo XC90 SUV made entirely from Legos!

Lots of fun at the Volvo Museum and we spent most of the afternoon there, followed by the 35-minute trip back to the B&B. We took a little break and then decided to find some dinner. We settled on Texas Longhorn Steakhouse. Dad and I each had the "belly buster ribeye." There were bigger options, trust me, both this one (translated from grams) was about 10 ounces and very, very good. I had quality steak fries, and my Dad had what he described as an "honest to God real baked potato, baked in the oven slowly and without foil!" We wanted dessert, but neither of us had room. Bellies busted. And we have generous ones.

Not much else we could do, as we returned from the Volvo Museum at about the time other attractions were closing. Thus ended our Gothenburg odyssey. Onward to Stockhom, Sweden next!

Our Final Day in Copenhagen - Tivoli

2015-06-13T08:56:00.000-04:00

We saved the best for last in Copenhagen.

Tivoli - one of the oldest amusement parks in the world and widely recognized as the major source of inspiration to Walt Disney and his parks. We got to Tivoli a little early, so we stood around near the gate, surrounded by school children on a field trip. First time in a while I have felt tall in a crowd of people!

On entering the park we we met by uniformed workers, immaculately groomed grounds, and exotic birds of all sorts just wandering around, like this peacock. Later in the day I was chased away by a goose (or a gander) for some infraction I'm still not sure I committed. The weather in the morning was gray and chilly, but by the end of the day the skies cleared and we put away our jackets.

The other thing we saw on entering Tivoli was a pallet of beer kegs. A pallet of kegs ... of beer. Lots of beer. I almost grabbed a keg and ran for it. But in the end you only really rent beer anyway (think about it) so I decided that a Danish prison wasn't worth it. We wandered the park for much of the day. Past Hans Christian Andersen's Castle, the giant frigate in the middle of the central lagoon, under and around terrifying and tame rides and roller coasters. We had an early dinner at one of the restaurants in Tivoli, Faergekroens Bryghus. it features the classic open-faced sandwich, the smørrebrød, and it's own microbrew. It's really wrong to call it a sandwich. It's really a thick piece of buttered dark bread piled high - in my case - with layers of roast beef, potato salad, lettuce, tomato, pickles, onions and a whole bunch of other stuff, too. The "sandwich" was awesome. The house brew was nasty.

Views of Tivoli

Fortunately Dad and I had enjoyed much better beer, by the liter, at the park's German Bierhaus, earlier in the day! You see, he and I had decided that we could either ride a few rides or have a liter of beer and a pretzel (it wouldn't be safe to do both, trust me.) it wasn't a tough choice.

The entrance fee to Tivoli is 99 Danish kroner, roughly equivalent to US$15.00. After that, you buy ride tickets (25 kroner each, about $3.75) for the rides you want to try. The "better" rides can cost up to 3 ride tickets. There are plenty of things to do without riding the rides. There are concerts, marching bands, exhibitions, and the beauty and whimsy of the gardens themselves. After our day at the park we returned to the hostel for our last night before leaving early the next morning for Gothenberg, Sweden. I convinced my Dad to have one more drink in the Generator's bar before retiring. Unfortunately, I think that his second liter of beer for the day retired HIM...

Dad has the uncanny ability to hold any beverage upright while snoring heavily.

Stay tuned for my next report from Gothenberg, Sweden!

Day 3 in Copenhagen - Christiansborg Palace and the Canals

2015-06-11T10:23:00.000-04:00

Our third full day in Copenhagen saw us enjoying the delights of Christiansborg Palace and the serenity of a one-hour canal tour of the city.

Christiansborg Palace has a long history for the Danish monarchs and its origins extend even before then. The Danish royal family ceased using the palace as its residence in 1794, but continues to use it to this day for royal receptions, for the throne room and for other state occasions.

views of the state reception rooms

As you can see in the picture, top left, the monarch requires that all tourists wear blue booties over them shoes to protect the floors of the reception rooms. The dining hall, top right, has a ginormous table that can seat your entire extended family for Thanksgiving. The taller throne is the Queen's. The chandelier, bottom right, was purchased from the Swedish royalty, who then asked to borrow it so they could copy it and replace the chandelier - classy seller's remorse? We also toured the ruins under the Palace. It's a fairly new exhibition and is really neat. It reminded me strongly of the exhibition I saw a year or so ago in Montreal.

After a happy few hours enjoying palace life, my Dad and I decided to take a seat for a guided tour of the city by water.

We took a boat similar to this one all throughout the harbor and canals of the picturesque city of Copenhagen. Lots of great information and great pictures, too! Also a great chance to rest our sore tootsies! Dad has recorded more than 10,000 steps each day of our trip; I'm averaging closer to 17,000. That's not because I'm shorter. It's because I tend to go out for a bit after dinner while Dad (being more the wiser), relaxes and prepares the travel itinerary for the next day.

This section of the city is known as Nyhavn. It is part of a collection of canals that one of the previous monarchs (I forget which one) had built because he liked the way Amsterdam and its canals looked. Nyhavn was an easy walk from our hostel and is an area full of cafes, shops, street entertainment, and fantastic people-watching! This is one of the most photographed parts of the city, according to the canal tour. We made it back to the hostel in time for the early happy hour, and then we went down the street to a hamburger gastro-pub. Can't remember the name of it, and, unfortunately, the burgers weren't that memorable either. The name was a play on words with "buns" and the waitresses wore short-shorts. Think Hooters, except we weren't aware of the theme until after we sat down and ordered. Stay tuned! The next installment will cover the famous Tivoli Gardens and our last full day in Copenhagen! NOTE: for those of you following by email subscription, any videos I post will only work if you access them via the website - www.vacaken.com.

Day 2 in Copenhagen - Kronborg Castle

2015-06-10T05:41:00.000-04:00

Our first full day in Copenhagen saw us leaving the city for most of the day and traveling north, about 45 minutes by train, to the seaside city of Helsingor, Denmark. Visible across the strait was the Swedish town of Helsingborg. Many ferries between the two, and the ferries left from just outside of the train station.

The Kronborg Slot ("castle") is located about a ten minute walk from the station, along the waterfront. Now a little side story about the train trip to reach Helsingor: Helsingor has an alternate name in English: Elsinore. Well, using the English setting on the ticket machine wouldn't pull up the Elsinore stop; you had to use the Danish spelling. Also, the train schedules posted are damnably hard to decipher, unlike the clear-as-day ones I encountered in Germany a few years ago. For instance, some trains give you the ultimate destination of the train, but it's a city name that's not even listed on the departure board - you are expected to know Danish geography in order to determine which direction you need to go in!

The only bad thing about the walk was the cobblestones. I've mentioned before (my loyal readers will say many, many times!) cobblestones in Europe can kill your feet and legs. It's like off-roading in the middle of a city. The weather was pretty nice, in the 60s and partly cloudy. We finally arrived at the castle - the castle which was the setting for Shakespeare's (fictional) tragedy of Hamlet. Pretty cool-looking castle, and right on the strait separating Denmark from Sweden (the strait connects the North Sea with the Baltic.)

The castle has undergone several renovations since it's beginnings as the medieval castle "Krogen" prior to 1574, most notably by King Frederik II from 1574-85, in 1629 after a large fire and in 1658 after the Swedish captured and looted the castle. Today the castle is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Views of Kronborg Slot

We really enjoyed ourselves at the Kronborg castle, and the property was sure to play up its link to Shakespeare. There were pithy t-shirts you could buy, and even fake (obviously!) Yorick skulls available for purchase. A train ride back saw us safely to our hostel, just in time for the early happy hour (4-5 PM). We each enjoyed big one-liter mugs of Carlsberg lager. Later we wandered to the hot dog stand because Dad couldn't "stand" waiting to have his first Scandinavian hot dog! He claims that it was the best hot dog he has ever eaten, and that's going well back into the early twentieth century! I know you won't be able to wait for the next installment, all about Christiansborg Palace in Copenhagen, and our big boat adventure!!!

Happy Update - Blogging issues fixed!

2015-06-10T04:37:00.000-04:00

I appear to have resolved my technical difficulties and I should now be able to present the blog as I'd like! To test it out, here's a video clip from way back in Iceland, in the geothermal national park: It's not the best clip in the world, but now I know I can take some (better) video and upload it for your pleasure! I can now resize and manipulate photos, arrange them as I please, and wrap text. I can also add links, tables, and so on! Here's a hot dog stand from Copenhagen Hot dogs are a favorite treat over here I had my first one in Iceland, but my Dad didn't get his until Denmark.

I can now provide useful links for you, too. For example, in my last post I told you about the hostel, Generator Copenhagen. Click here. Well, that's enough playing around. Next stop, Kronborg Castle!

Copenhagen, Day One - The Generator Hostel

2015-06-09T03:59:00.001-04:00

We got into Copenhagen late. Our WOW air flight was delayed by almost two hours, so we didn't arrive at our hostel until the mid afternoon. Interestingly, the flight attendant apologized for the delay by blaming it on "system issues from a few days ago." Could it be that the fledgling air carrier was still affected by the same delay that saw us leave Boston three hours late just three days earlier?

Yes, I said hostel. I convinced the Old Man to try it out. Accommodations for the two of us for four nights totaled $300, which is almost as cheap as you can get in Copenhagen without getting stabbed.

Our hostel was the Generator Copenhagen, located near to the pretty Nyhavn section of the city. It was also convenient to a metro station (Kogens Nytorv - about 7 minutes by foot) and to a metro/S-Tog station (Norreport - about a 10-minute walk).

The Generator Copenhagen is part of a chain of 6-8 other Generators, including ones in London and Berlin. The Copenhagen establishment has a huge bar area, a two-level comfy sitting area in front of three large TVs, a computer room, a multipurpose area, and a few cozy "chill zones" where you can just, well, relax! One of them is a room full of colorful hammocks. Should've taken pics for you, but somehow I didn't. Padre may have, but he's currently snoring loudly into my ear as we ride a train.

Here's what our bunks looked like:

I had the top bunk. Below the bed are giant lockers-on-wheels where you can secure your things while sleeping or for when you're on the town. The were really neat and were plenty secure. That's my locker in the picture. My Dad's is to the left, tucked under the bed with a padlock on it. He had forgotten to bring his combination lock from home, so he bought a simple key lock from the front desk, for about $4.00 U.S.

I went out that first night in Copenhagen and returned to the Generator to join Dad for happy hour in the hostel's bar from 9-10 PM. I have to give the Old Man some credit. He could have gotten away with it and I would have been none the wiser. He had dutifully locked his rolling locker before taking a nap, and he locked the key in the locker. With his pants. And his shoes. He had to walk, barefoot, down to the front desk, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts. Half-blind because his glasses were locked up, too.

He asked the clerk if they had any bolt cutters. "Yes," he replied kindly. "Does this happen a lot?" asked the Old Man. "Well, you're the first today, but you won't be the only one! Would you like to buy a new lock while you're here?"

We enjoyed almost our entire stay at the Generator. We met lots of great people (all ages stayed at the hostel, and some families with small kids, too) and our ever-changing allotment of roommates were generally considerate and friendly. Until the last day. This guy and his girlfriend had the two bunks opposite ours. When Dad first met the guy, he ranted about politics and his love for weed. Two or three times later that night, at around midnight, 2AM and 4AM, he would get up, loudly sort through his things, turn lights on and off, and - worst of all - he would wake up his girlfriend and talk loudly with her for ten minutes before she could get him to shut up. This was the downside to a shared room, but overall my Dad and I would each stay at a hostel again. I took the guy's picture so he will live in infamy for eternity on my blog.

Eight bunks in our room, though there were also 6-, 4- and two-bunk rooms available for more money. Our room had two showers, a bathroom and a separate sink, with two more showers and bathrooms just down the hall.

Stay tuned for the next installment, when your intrepid heroes explore Kronborg Castle in Helsingor (Elsinore) the setting for Shakespeare's "Hamlet!"

In transit - Reykjavik to Copenhagen

2015-06-07T11:43:00.001-04:00

Still having massive issues with posting. Arrived in Copenhagen and we're having fun. One castle, one palace, one boat tour, and one great time!!

Here are a few pics to whet your appetite until I can resolve these technical difficulties ....

More to come, I swear! 💀=Yorick. Think Hamlet. We went to the castle that was the setting for the play. Padre kept referencing MacBeth as we took the train. Finally, when we arrived, he said, "oh, Hell," and realized his silly mistake.

Also, if you're a Facebook friend of my Dad, send him a private message asking him how much a lock costs in Denmark, and can he verify the price? Trust me, the answer will be worth it!

I hope to have the blogging issue resolved. It used to take me an hour, tops, a day to write, edit, photo-ify and paginate an entry. Now it's been taking me several hours of effort. I need to find a solution for you, my loyal readers, so that I won't have to deny you my witty prose!

Reykjavik, Day Two - The Golden Circle

2015-06-05T17:23:00.001-04:00

Early morning for us, and a long day! We booked a "Golden Circle" tour of some of Iceland's best known natural attractions. Why is called the Golden Circle? One theory is that you follow Iceland Route 1, the ring-road, around the island. Combine that with Gullfoss ("golden waterfall" - one of the impressive stops on the tour) and you have your Golden Circle.

Our guide and driver was Dooley of Iceland Horizon Tours. We had a minibus and about 15 people in our group. The Old Man was likely the senior member.

The drive took us out of Reykjavik and through rolling lava fields. These were flows from a few thousand years ago (all of Iceland is a volcanically created island). Nothing grows on these lava fields except for moss. According to Dooley, in another thousand years or so berry bushes will begin to grow in in this flow area, as berry bushes have on other parts of the island. Even other parts are fully tillable and sustain farms and the singular breed of Icelandic horse.

No native trees on Iceland, if you don't count the waist-high bushes. The trees you see were imported and planted. It's a long term project.

After a brief stop at a shopping center, where Padre got a little lost in the "woods," we embarked on a 45 minute journey to the first of two waterfalls - the Flaxi.

It's a pretty cool waterfall, with a fish ladder, even. Everyone in the tour group oohed and ahhed. But the Flaxi was a tease. Cool as it was, it didn't hold a candle to Gullfoss, our next stop.

THIS is a serious waterfall! In my opinion cooler than Niagra because the waterfall is stepped. If you look carefully at the picture, there are at least three falls within the entire awesome display of nature.

We walked the path you can see in the lower left of the picture. You can beg either one of us for additional pics. It was absolutely spectacular. It was also very wet. No mammals were harmed in the production of this blog.

By the way - I'm still having loads of issues posting the blog. Back in 2011, when I posted my first entries, the apps worked. In 2012 and 2013 they worked fine and got better. Now I'm using a combination of three different apps, cutting and pasting in between, and I still can't properly edit, size or arrange the photos. Infuriating.

Onward! The tour continued to Iceland's national park. The cool one (people - a geothermal joke - some chuckling please!) Volcanic and seismic activity evidenced by geysers. Or, more precisely, Geysir, the one after which all others are named!

Unfortunately, Geysir doesn't spout off too much anymore. It didn't blow while we were there, and it's becoming inactive.

Fortunately Geysir's cousin has become increasingly active, erupting every 5-10 minutes ( and about every 3-4 minutes while we were there!) The ground around the whole area is hot. There are signs warning people not to stray from the brick path, that in some places the ground is 80-100 degrees Celcius. That's wicked hot to you and me.

Geysir wasn't the only game in town, nor its erupting cousin. There were also bubbling calderas of volcanically heated water, random hot springs, and periodic geysers.

The tour broke for lunch at the national park. Most people ate in the visitor center, but Dad and I economized by buying some bread, sausage and cheese at the Bønus Supermarket.

Oh, we had Kit Kats and Rolos, too.

The last stop of the tour was the intersection between North America and Europe. The meeting of the tectonic plates. Iceland actually grows by 1-2 inches per year as Europe and North America slowly distance themselves from one another.

It was also at this particular spot that the Vikings of Iceland formed the oldest parliament of them all -- in the tenth century and it still meets today (but somewhere else.) the Vikings did not know that the area was also a major stress point in the Earth's crust.

The area is beautiful and centrally-located. That's why it was picked as the meeting place.

The wall to the left of the picture is part of the tectonic plate (not sure whether the European or North American). The tour came to a close shortly thereafter, with a 30 minute drive back to Reykjavik.

Dad and I dined at an Italian restaurant, but we hit the sack relatively early. Our shuttle bus picks us up at 3:30 AM tomorrow for the airport and onward to Denmark!

Day One in Reykjavik - Cityscapes and Other Stuff

2015-06-04T19:55:00.000-04:00

Day 1 in Reykjavik, Iceland is done!

Padre and I walked around quite a bit, having left our bags at the hotel. The day was sunny in the AM, about 50 degrees, with clouds in the afternoon. We decided on an independent walking tour of the harbor in Reykjavik, and the main shopping thoroughfare, Laugavegur.

Here's a silly selfie of the pair near the harbor, not far from the concert hall.

The weather, for Iceland, was spectacular. 50s and sunny. We wouldn't see that for the rest of our sojourn in the northernmost capital city in the world.

We started our tour at this statue, of one of the first settlers of Iceland. Some Viking name, but not Leif Ericksson (His name is Ingolufur Arnarson). He faced the harbor, which held a plethora of boats.

We walked along the harbor and avoided the Dominos Pizza (the only U.S. chain restaurant we saw). We sauntered by the concert hall and little, tiny twin lighthouses.

Then we ascended the hill and made our way to the biggest Lutheran church in the world - Hallgrimskirkja.

This one DID have a statue of Leif Eriksson In front of it. And, for a nominal fee, we were permitted to ascend the spire and view the city....

The view was spectacular, despite the clouds which rolled in that afternoon. There was an elevator for most of the way, but we still had to ascend another four flights of stairs to reach the top.

From the church we made our way to lunch. Of course. For us it was bread bowls of broccoli soup and a couple of Gull beers, one of the native brews.

All I can say is - don't tell my personal trainer, Fausto!!

We were finally able to check into our hotel - the Fourth Floor Hotel. We were pleased with the state of our room, and the cost vs. amenities. Here's a pic of our room - a little wacky, but very comfortable and centrally-located!

Tomorrow is the Golden Circle tour! Lava and waterfalls and tectonic plates!! I know you can't wait, and I can't wait to tell you all about it!!

Location:Snorrabraut,Reykjavik,Iceland

WOW, I'm in Reykjavik, Iceland!

2015-06-03T12:10:00.001-04:00

**NOTE: Can't make my blogging apps work. I just spent two hours uploading this. Pictures are not formatted right. I will try to fix this in the future. Very frustrating, but enjoy the following entry!**

My Dad, now being retired, is a bargain hunter. So of course, when a newish airline, WOW Air, began service this year from Boston to Iceland and offered $99 fares each way, my Dad did some arm-twisting and convinced me to take a two-week Scandinavian sojourn with him. So here I am, at the 4th Floor Hotel in Reykjavik, updating my travel blog.

How did the WOW Air experience go on the outbound flight? The bad: We endured a 3-hour delay because the plane had been delayed at an earlier destination. WOW only has a half-dozen planes, so each is used extensively to offer an ambitious schedule. The downside is that a single delay somewhere can cause a serious ripple for hours in WOW's system. The upside is that Dad and I checked in really early at the airport (no online checkin available) and the agent gave us upgraded emergency row seats for free - neither of us had a seat in front of us!!

Here are my stubby legs stretched to infinity in my spacious premium seat. To the right is a pic of Dad "riding out" the delay.

The delay meant that we arrived in Iceland at 7:30 AM instead of 4:30. Much better, though most things still weren't open yet.

Iceland looks like the Moon or Mars from above. Lots of little rocks, no trees to speak of. It looks that way on the ground, too. Below is a picture of the plane we flew in. Yup, you guessed it! We deplaned down a set of steps right onto the tarmac! Skies were full sunshine and the temperature is hovering around 50 degrees Farenheit by midday.

We had Flybus reservations to take us the 45 minutes from the airport in Keflavik to Reykjavik and our hotel. Along the way we saw construction underway for a permanent rainbow over Iceland.

I wonder how much gold it will take to anchor each end of the rainbow. And how many leprechauns to guard it.

We arrived at our hotel, but our room wasn't ready yet. So, being hungry we did the sensible thing and walked the main boulevard (Laugavegur) looking for an ATM machine to change money, and then for food.

I'll report back later on our first day activities! Let's just say lots of Viking statues, lots of walking, and lots of fun! We're at the hotel now to check in, for a short break and to shower, but we're going out again this afternoon. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to welcome back loyal readers of my blog, and to encourage new friends to follow the excitement! Check back soon for Day One in Reykjavik!

At the Highland Games in New Hampshire

2014-09-22T19:19:00.000-04:00

In years past I often chose my birthday as a travel day to some fascinating destination - usually in Europe. This year I wasn't able to cross the Pond, so I let a small piece of it hop the Pond for me.

NHScot runs the New Hampshire Highland Games at Loon Mountain. A weekend festival of food, music and uniquely-Scottish feats of athleticism.

I stayed at the Lost River Valley Campground, about five miles from Loon Mountain. The forecast was promising for the Saturday of the Games, but it was to be cold for the Friday evening of my arrival.

Cold was not the word. It dipped below freezing, and the flimsy nylon walls of my tent did nothing to insulate me from the fell chill. Fortunately, my sturdy LL Bean sleeping bag - and the $4 watch cap which was a birthday present from my friends the Cullens - saw me comfortably through the night. And a little Irish coffee saw me through the morning's chilly welcome.

It was cold and windy almost the entirety of my Saturday's visit to the Games ($30 for a day pass, plus $4 processing for the advance ticket.) Of course I wore a kilt, but I must admit that, under it, I wore a little more than a true Scot would wear -- it was just too cold to be properly de-underclothed. A nice tweed blazer complemented my kilt and kept my torso almost-warm.

My friends and I boarded a free shuttle bus from Clark's Trading Post, just a couple miles from the campground, to make our way to the Games. The air was full of sounds -- bagpipes, laughter, raucous cheering, drums, fiddles and the contented murmur of a satiated crowd.

I had subpar haggis for lunch, with lukewarm mashed potatoes. Beer was good. Later, I had a very good Scotch egg with gravy. Beer was still good. Even later, I snacked on some small-batch shortbread I wisely purchased from one of the dozens of small vendors. Didn't have beer with the shortbread.

My friends and I watched some of the caber tossing competition. Rather than try and explain it to you, my loyal readers, please take a brief moment to watch this specially-prepared video instead:

We spent the entire day enjoying the Games. Pipers and dancers competed. We visited a re-enactors' camp and saw period scenes from Braveheart days through World War One. We meandered the dozens of clan tents and learned the history of many of the major clans and septs of Scotland -- highland and lowland.

Lots of fun. And funnest of all was being with good friends and playing Uno after a shared dinner back at the campground. Sometimes, when I travel solo, I miss the camaraderie that only comes with true friends. Don't get me wrong, I always meet fascinating people and create my own special moments, but traveling and experiencing with family or friends always makes the time seem even more special.

Jack, Ethan and I stop and pose for a pic. I wish I had remembered my comb.

Gulfport, St. Petersburg and (maybe) Squirrel Pie

2014-03-06T20:21:00.001-05:00

I just spent four glorious days visiting my Grandmother in Florida. The weather was ideal each day – mostly sunny and in the mid 70s. Back home the Arctic Vortex kept temps in the teens and twenties…. I have just two words for you – outdoor shower. My Grandmother has one and I reveled in it every morning.

My Grandmother, as she puts it, is just over 16. She definitely has the teen spirit regardless of her near centenary status. She ran me ragged with errands – the supermarket, the bank, the office supply store so she could have plenty of paper and ink for her voracious computer appetite.

We enjoyed a meal from her favorite seafood place, Leverocks, and had a lazy night of take-out pizza. I simply had to snap this pic, because the slice of pizza is bigger than my Grandmother’s entire head. That didn’t stop her from digging in with gusto!

Here’s the Florida homestead. A simple, unpretentious and typical one-floor Florida home.

And here’s one of its other residents, looking back at me with a questioning tail.

Unfortunately, I discovered that some other, less-welcome creatures had taken up residence in the attic.

Back in the day my parents had cats. Sometimes the cats would get a little hyper and would chase each other throughout the entire house. Back and forth, over and over again. My Mom used to call it “elephant races” because they made an enormous, rumbling noise wholly disproportionate to their mass. Well, whatever was in the attic enjoyed the races, too. Either that or high-impact aerobics.

I was afraid these houseguests might be rats. The noises were simply too powerful to be mice. Or birds. Or bats. Or attic-dwelling dromedary turtles. I don’t do rats. Or mice for that matter. So we called a pest control company. The good news is that the creatures kept to themselves and to the attic – no evidence that they were sneaking into the rest of the house. They were just heavy walkers.

Verdict? Squirrels had found their way into the attic through an unscreened gable vent and had decided to settle down and raise a family. Swell. The pest control guy set out a trap near the plum tree in the back yard (probable food source), and said someone would be back in a day or two, probably with more traps.

More on the squirrels in my next post. In the meantime, back to visiting my Grandmother….

So, aside from pesky varmints, chores happily undertaken and hours of quality conversations, laughs and reminiscences, my Grandmother kept insisting that I should have some fun. She wouldn’t take me at my word that visiting with her was a lot of fun all on its own. She was alarmed that, despite my numerous visits over the years, I had never really explored Gulfport or the attractions in nearby St. Pete and Tampa.

So I agreed to wander a bit while she was busy working on her computer – she is the chair of a committee for one of her genealogical societies, and she wanted to be ready for a meeting. She was also putting some things together for my dad’s family-tracing efforts. And, although she doesn’t partake in elephant races, she does enjoy the occasional catnap.

I explored Gulfport Beach and the historic and quaint “downtown” area two hours at a time over the course of my stay. Much of Gulfport began life as a tiny enclave devoted to military veterans. Over time it became its own, tiny little city with an equally-tiny population in comparison to hulking St. Petersburg next door.

Above is a picture of the Gulfport Casino. No gambling there – it’s a dance hall and event venue. Dances and dance instruction are hosted there nearly every day, with concerts and other activities keeping it active much of the year. It sits right on the thin strip of white sand that claims to be Gulfport beach. Not the best beach by half when compared to St. Pete Beach or nearby Pass-a-Grille, but plenty for the locals.

Gulfport has reinvented itself in the last few years. It has consciously retained its small, Old Florida charm but has encouraged and welcomed artists and artisans to the community. A large public market is hosted along the downtown streets each Tuesday, and there are monthly and periodic art and performance festivals. Google Gulfport and you’ll see what I mean.

Tuesday Market in Gulfport, Florida

There are no hotels or chain restaurants in the historic old-town downtown. A few B&Bs, some rental homes and local – and great – restaurants and shops. Heck, the post office is located within a consignment shop!

O’Maddy’s bar and restaurant was a favorite of my parents’, and it’s a favorite of the locals, too. It’s busy all day and all night. It sits at the end of the beachfront road, just across from the small pier. It’s also steps away from my Mom’s favorite place in Gulfport, a simple bench in a small park at the very end of the beach. I visited the bench, too.

Lots of fun wandering around Old Gulfport. And did I mention that street parking is completely free? Beach parking, too. Never hard to find a spot.

In my next post (as this one’s getting a little long), I’ll update you on the dancing squirrels. I’ll also take you along with me to the Salvadore Dali Museum in St. Petersburg.

Oh, and if you’re wondering about the title of this post – "(maybe) squirrel pie"? While my Grandmother and I were joking about the dancing squirrels, she let me know that squirrel pie wasn’t too bad. By the end of my third night, I was ready to take the plunge and try some – humane trapping be damned!!

Montréal - Le Nouvel An et le départ

2014-01-02T10:00:00.001-05:00

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I spent the morning of New Year's Eve back in the Old Port of Montréal, at La Pointe à Callière - the Montréal Archaeological Museum. Situated on a triangular strip of land near the river in Vieux Port, this relatively new museum chronicles the history of the City of Montréal from the Ice Age through European colonization and today.

20.00$ for a single admission. My tour of the museum began with a slick multimedia presentation narrated by Montréal herself. The auditorium was situated above an open excavation pit with exposed building foundations clearly visible - the site of the museum was last inhabited by an insurance company building from the 1800s, and was in the heart of the original European settlement of Montréal. The half-hour presentation was really pretty good, and covered the original settlement, cooperation and contre-temps with the aboriginal peoples, and the evolution of bilingual Montréal (although today French is the dominant language).

The exhibition space is a cleaned-up excavation of the foundation of that insurance building, and points below. It is peppered with exhibits of finds from the dig (and digs from around the city), including bones, pottery shards, old nails, coins and clothing. Very interesting displays, and all were bilingual. The museum is working to open up a section of old sewer tunnels to allow visitors to meander a while like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.

There was also a special exhibition at the archeological museum -- strangely it was about the Beatles (the rock band -- not what would have inhabited those sewer lines!)

Lots of guitars, consumer goods like lunch boxes, matchbooks, clothing, opportunities to listen to the band's hits, and interesting factoids about the Beatles and their performances in Montréal.

I'm not really sure why the museum had a Beatles exhibition, but I would guess that they hosted it to draw additional traffic to the relatively young museum.

The place is pretty great for kids, too. There are several hands-on exhibits where kids can dig for bones and treasures, and to get their young Indiana Jones groove on.

Check out these Rolls Royces -- the Beatles sure knew how to ride in style!

I had lunch in the Old Port before returning to my hotel for a brief respite. It was cold -- very cold. The breeze didn't help. The air temperature was about -2 F at Noon, with a windchill of about -15 F.

I was dressed warmly in layers -- including thermal underwear -- but the cold still got to you, especially the strip of cold skin around the eyes, above the scarf and below the hat.

I wandered some more through different parts of the underground city on my way back to the hotel, partly to check it out and partly to avoid the cold. Probably took me an extra hour to get back to the hotel, but it was fun to people-watch.

Back at the hotel I met a group of 20-somethings from Hamilton, Ontario. The guys were in Montréal to party for the New Year, and they convinced me to go for a pint down the street (there are about 20 bars, restaurants and bistros along my hotel's street.) We enjoyed more than a pint, and I got an earful about the Junior World Hockey Championships, which were happening. Canada beat the U.S. for the title. One of the guys, Michael, wouldn't shut up about the intricacies of hockey!!

I left the guys after a few hours and returned to the hotel for a bit to get ready for New Year's back at the Old Port. As many of you know, I'm a morning person and 10 PM is a late night for me indeed - I'm not even sure that midnight really exists. It was about 8 PM and I decided to take a quick nap before donning my winter best and making the slog back to the Old Port. Though Montréal has a subway system, none of the stops are really that close to the Old Port. And, because there's a superhighway separating the Old Port from the rest of Montréal, you have to take specific streets to get over there.

I woke up from my nap at about 1:15 AM -- Happy New Year!! Instead of spending the New Year at the party in Old Port, I slept through it among the wood-paneled walls of my hotel room. Should've set an alarm, but I was only going to rest my eyes for a half-hour!! Lame is not the word for how I felt about it.

On New Year's Day -- colder still -- I thought I would hike up to the top of Mont Royal, the large hill that's the city's namesake.

I spoke with my hotel proprietor, who told me to take the subway to the Mont Royal stop (of course!) and then take a bus up to the top of the hill -- it would be too far and too cold to walk. He couldn't remember the bus number, but he said there were signs.

There was NO ONE on the streets at 9 AM. Barely any cars. Totally deserted. Almost everything was closed, except for Tim Horton's (read: Dunkin Donuts). Got to the Mont Royal metro stop. Found the bus stop. The buses were running on a Sunday schedule for the holiday, and the next bus (#11 if you care) wouldn't make its way to the stop for another 40 minutes. I decided to walk.

It took almost an hour to make the trek by foot -- up a windy road. The bus passed me when I was about 20 minutes from the top. It was so cold that my eye lashes were freezing and the vapor from my breath was freezing onto my scarf -- my black scarf was white with breath-frost.

Above: The Olympic Stadium, and the St. Lawrence beyond.

Below: Some big bridge separating the Island of Montréal from the rest of the Province of Québec.

I risked frostbite to take these pictures for you - really. My gloves were too clumsy to manipulate the camera.

Mont Royal is a huge park, and in the winter you can cross-country ski, skate, sled and do a whole bunch of winter-type stuff. There were a few brave souls there doing just that, but the parking lots were nearly empty. The warm and heated visitor centre was closed for the holiday -- no respite from the arctic cold! I did, however, finally find a smidgeon of sense and I took the bus back down the hill and to the metro stop.

Had lunch, wandered around for a bit (most places still closed, even many restaurants), and decided I should go home. I had originally planned to stay until Thursday, January 2nd, but I had heard about the impending snow storm from my Dad and I didn't want to drive through the mountains of Vermont and into the heart of the storm nearer to home. Left Montréal at about 4 PM. With a couple brief stops and the border crossing, made it home safely at about 11 PM. When I left Montréal it was -7 F; when I got home it was +20 F.... balmy.

Montréal - Day Three

2013-12-31T17:20:00.001-05:00

Today I explored le Réso and le Vieux Port. Le Réso is the system of underground passages in Montréal -you can be in a mall, as pictured, but you can also be in a plain corridor which nonetheless takes you to another part of the city, all without freezing. There are miles of corridors, and all of them are warm.

I traveled to the old part of town today. There aren't any subway stops that really take you there - a lot of walking was required. There are bus routes, but I didn't bother. It's cold today, really cold. Tomorrow is supposed to be even worse. I have four layers of clothing on, and that's barely sufficient.

I walked through Chinatown to reach the old part of town. It was compact, but still pretty neat.
I reached the old port and I wandered around for quite a bit. I would say that half of the shops are closed this time of year. I was keeping my eye out for a subterranean bar my friends and I visited several years back, off of a small alley, but I couldn't find it.

It actually took a while to wander the narrow streets of the Old Town. I stopped for lunch at les 3 Brasseurs, which is a chain of microbreweries. Here's a picture of me reflected from the copper of the bar:
Boy, my nose looks big in the picture!!

I was also able to see the preparations for the New Year in Old Town. Above is a picture of one of the venues. There are other stages being set up in other places, including near city hall. A bartender with whom I spoke indicated that the festivities in the Old Port are really for families, and not for cool guys like me. We'll see - I haven't given up hope yet!!
Many of you are wondering, I'm sure, about what Ken does after dark. Well, last night I spent an enjoyable evening in a jazz bar not too far from my hotel. Believe it or not, Montréal is a pretty big jazz city. My hotel is in the heart of the Latin Quarter, and there are many, many bars and music venues here.
Tune in tomorrow for another exciting day in Montréal, including the archaeological museum and New Year's Eve!

Montréal - Day Two

2013-12-30T18:35:00.001-05:00

My first real day in Montréal is now over, and I covered a lot of ground. Most of that ground was covered at the Montréal Museum of Fine Arts / Musée des Beaux Arts.

The museum's collections are free to peruse. There was also a special exhibition for a fee, but I didn't partake - there was plenty to see for free, and I tried to see it all!

The collections include a temporary Napoleon exhibit (that's one of his hats, above), decorative arts, fine paintings and sculptures, and contemporary art. Some really cool stuff.
The museum, like many others, is a collection of buildings. And in this case the buildings are connected underground. It was a constant case of going up or down stairs, or using an elevator. The staircase pictured below reminds me of the staircase at the Kunst Historisches pictured in my Vienna, Day Two post, except that this staircase is unadorned and lacks a giant statue at the top of a naked man wrestling with a lion.

I spent most of the day at the museum of fine arts. I had planned on visiting a second museum today, too, but I left the museum at about 3:30 PM and the museums all close at 5:00 PM.
Instead, I decided to have a late lunch/early dinner at Hurley's - an Irish pub I've been to on each of my last two trips to Montréal.

I had a hamburger and fries and I toasted friends who had hoisted a pint or two with me at Hurley's in times of yore.

I had taken the subway to the museum, but I decided to walk back to the hotel. Today was cold, but not frigid. Tomorrow's weather is supposed to be clear and cold - with a high of about 10 degrees.
A couple of fun facts about Montréal's Métro system: first, the subway stations are heated. That's really welcome after a half-hour walking down windswept streets!

The second fun fact? The subway trains have tires and don't ride on traditional rail tracks!! Instead, the cars ride on the ground and are bracketed by side rails to keep the cars in their lane. There is a "third rail" for power, but it's between the two side rails.
The cars are quieter riding on tires, but they seem just as fast as more traditional subway trains.
Stay tuned for the next installment - the Old Port and more!!!

In Montréal - Day One

2013-12-29T14:44:00.001-05:00

So I decided to spend a few days - including New Year's - in Montréal, Canada. It was kind of a last-minute decision, but I have been thinking about it for a while. I'm traveling solo again - I left my Dad at home this time because he's preparing for a Caribbean cruise with my Aunt Wendy and Uncle Ed.

Here's what my hotel's street looked like when I arrived. The temperature was a few degrees above freezing, so there was snow melting all over the place. Of course, this morning, the melted snow refroze and there was ice everywhere. Not a problem, because the denizens of the city quickly spread sand and ice-melt everywhere.

Here's that same street when I woke up Sunday morning. My hotel is located just beyond the parked car on the right - the Hotel Manoir St.-Dénis.
It took me about seven hours in total to make the journey of about 250 miles by car - included in that time is nearly an hour waiting to cross the border into Canada, and a single pit stop for lunch just north of Burlington, Vermont - in Colchester, I think. The Canadian border guard was the first customs official I've encountered since losing weight who questioned me about the fat Ken shown in my passport photo taken in 2009. He still took me at my word, though, that I have lost 100 pounds.

Here are exterior and interior pics of the hotel. A very basic place, rustic but clean. It is located in the Quartier Latin, near to the Old Town and very convenient to the subway. Most places are in fairly easy walking distance, though.

The hotel isn't the best place I've stayed in, but it's not the worst, either. I can't get over the wood panelling, but I'll learn to live with it for a mere $58 per night, taxes included -- and free continental breakfast!
Speaking of which, I went to the front desk in the morning to ask where the breakfast would be served. The clerk replied (in French), "in your room - I will prepare you a tray." I then watched him microwave a croissant, pour a cup of coffee, and pour a cup of orange juice before he assembled the items on my waiting tray. He did tell me that I could come back for more if I wanted....

I could not help but laugh at my breakfast - but I did wait until I returned to my room with it. But again, for $58 per night this basic hotel is clean and very well located. And, there's even a fridge in my room so I can supplement tomorrow's eye-opener!
Breakfast complete, I'm now off to begin my explorations of the city! Come back soon for an update!

Location:St Denis St,Montreal,Canada

Food and Lodging in the U.K.

2013-09-30T19:26:00.001-04:00

The long-awaited food and lodging blog entry has arrived!! Sorry for the substantial delay -- my Dad and I took forever to get together to share photos, and he had many of the food pictures.

Unfortunately, as I went through the pictures, I realized that we never captured a picture of the truly excellent haggis we enjoyed at the Abbey Bar in Edinburgh, the sub-par "food" we ate on the Caledonian Sleeper, or the mixed-bag we consumed at Gordon Ramsay's Maze Grill in London. I don't have exterior shots of the Panda Villa B&B in Edinburgh or the Drumnadrochit Hotel in Drumnadrochit (Inverness, Scotland), either.

However, that being said, I have plenty of pictures of the best and worst of our food and lodging experiences: here they are in order of travel:

This is a twilight view of the Bridge Hotel in London. The Bridge was probably the lowest quality hotel we stayed at, but it was serviceable as a place to sleep and shower, and it was relatively convenient to the Elephant and Castle tube stop (about an eight-minute walk). There were a number of pubs in the area, and several take-out spots. There was also a supermarket right down the street, which was convenient to allow us to stock the in-room refrigerator which was a welcome bonus at the hotel.

Our first stop, shortly after reaching the London hotel, was the Tower of London. Being a little peckish, we decided to peruse one of the cafes within the Tower. My Dad and I split this lovely back currant tart along with cups of tea.

We lunched at a pub near to the Tower, and it turned out to be one of a big chain of pubs in the U.K. - the J.D. Wetherspoons chain. Each pub has its own name, furnishings and character, but they share the same menu of offerings. I had the steak, chips and peas shown below, which came with a "free" pint. I think it was only 7.95.

We enjoyed pub fare each of our evenings in London (except for the night at the Maze), but the food was merely OK. Better pub fare in other cities, so you get pics of the classics below. Here, however, are a couple of pics from two of the pubs we "frequented" while in London.

The Albert Arms was conveniently located halfway between the tube stop and the Bridge Hotel. We stopped there twice for a post-touring pint and to admire the comely Eastern European barmaid. The pic of my Dad is from within The Ship, a freehouse a few hundred yards from the hotel. I wrote at least one of my blog posts from this pub, using its free wifi connection.

From London we traveled via the Caledonian Sleeper service to Inverness, Scotland. We didn't take pictures of the sub-par dinner on the train, or of the decent airplane-style breakfast served in our cabins.

Here are a couple pictures of the interior of the Drumnadrochit Hotel in Drumnadrochit, Scotland. The hotel was on the same grounds as the Loch Ness Center and Exhibition, one of the two Loch Ness tourist trap museums. The other was about a quarter-mile away by foot. The hotel was of better quality than The Bridge Hotel in London, but the interior of the rooms were a bit dated -- the bathroom was a melange of avocado fixtures and natural pine accents.

The hotel, though mediocre, had a really decent restaurant. Good thing, since there wasn't another game in town. (Actually, there was -- I didn't discover the Fiddler pub, just 1500 yards away, until the evening of our last night and after we had already supped -- this was the subject of the postscript in my Inverness post.)

To the right is a picture of bangers and mashed from the hotel's restaurant, complete with two small Yorkshire puddings. Yum!

We only had a single night in Inverness, and then we were off to Edinburgh for two nights of great sightseeing, fantastic entertainment in the form of the Edinburgh Military Tattoo, and some of the best food of our trip.

We stayed two nights at the Panda Villa B&B, on the outskirts of Edinburgh-proper. It was actually in a decent location -- very convenient to major bus lines, or you could hoof-it to the city centre in about 25 minutes. No exterior or bedroom pictures, but here is Dad in the breakfast room of the B&B:

We arrived in Edinburgh in the late afternoon on a Sunday, and we were really hungry. We were also pretty lazy and we stopped for some comfort food. It was half-way through our trip, and we were a little homesick.

Yup, a pan pizza from Pizza Hut, just a few hundred yards from the Edinburgh Castle. We could have had KFC, but carbs and pepperoni were calling our names. We had all of our luggage with us at Pizza Hut, as we had just arrived in Edinburgh by train -- it was a small, narrow restaurant, and the waitstaff had to shimmy to get around our bags.

We checked into the Panda B&B and we trekked up and down Arthur's Seat. After our hike, we sought relaxation at the Abbey Bar, which was to become our favorite pub and dining spot of all the places we visited on our journeys.

Here are pics of stake and ale pie (left) and cottage pie (right) from the Abbey. Our first meal at The Abbey was actually haggis with neeps and tatties, but we didn't take a picture for some reason. The haggis was my favorite dinner of the trip, and I think it was my Dad's, too. We also discovered our soon-to-be favorite dessert of the trip: sticky toffee pudding!!

From Edinburgh we made our way to Thirsk -- to our favorite lodging. The Gallery B&B. Here are exterior and interior pics:

After checking in at the Gallery, we had lunch in a tea room in the marketplace of the town (I forget the name of the place, but it was about 300 yards from the B&B):

This was our first (and I believe our only) meal that involved a substantial amount of salad. The pies were pork pies, and were yummy. The small pickled onions were yummy. The small cup of a tomato relish was, well, yummy! This may also have been our only non-breakfast meal of the trip that involved non-alcoholic beverages -- pictured are diet Cokes.

Breakfast at the Gallery B&B in Thirsk was the highlight of the trip for us. The advertised "DeliciouslYorkshire" breakfast was made using all locally-sourced products and was prepared by host Kathryn's skilled hands. The sausage and ham (bacon) were made by a local butcher from local swine, the tomatoes and mushrooms were locally produced, and even the eggs didn't have far to go to land on our plates! Spectacular, and the breakfast at the Gallery was the best of the many "traditional English" breakfasts we enjoyed.

We ate a lot in and around Thirsk, or at least we were really good at taking food pictures there. Here is a sampling of what we filled our gullets with: Left: a steak dinner with onion rings, fries, salad, and a beer. Right: a sausage roll, two pork pies and a Scotch egg for lunch while in Helmsley.

Left: traditional battered fish and chips with a ladle of tartar sauce and a bowl of mushy peas (made with butter and cream -- kind of like mashed potatoes, but deliberately lumpy). Note that I had already eaten many of the chips before I remembered to take the picture.) The steak dinner was at the Black Lion in Thirsk; the fish and chips were found at the Little 3 in Thirsk - lovely!

From Thirsk we moved our base of operations to Llandudno, Wales, on the Irish Sea. This time our hotel was a small family-run affair, near to the end of the famous seaside promenade. We had a decent room, ranked solidly in the middle of our various accommodations, but it had the best view:

We had a sea-view room, as you can "sea" in the picture to the left, though the Old Man was looking at his phone rather than out the window. To the right and above is another shot of the interior of the Grafton Inn.

The breakfast room in the Grafton is located in the bay windows on the first floor, to the left of the entrance. Our room was above the entrance. It was about a 15 minute walk from the hotel to the center of the promenade, the Pier, and Mostyn Street -- a cute and pretty well-preserved Victorian boulevard and arcade. Breakfast at the Grafton, while good, was nothing compared to the Gallery's brand of perfection. The Grafton's breakfast had canned tomatoes rather than fresh grilled, the mushrooms weren't fresh, and the sausage, though good, was uninspired.

We had dinner our second night at Mama Rosa's, an Italian place that was recommended by our hotel. The Italian fare we had there was plentiful, delicious, and not too pricey. The service was arguably the best we encountered (the Abbey Bar in Edinburgh being the only rival). No pictures, as it was a pretty intimate restaurant -- not a pub. The only other not-a-pub place we ate at was Gordon Ramsay's Maze Grill in London, and Mama Rosa's has it beat by a mile.

To the right is a hamburger lunch at the Four Alls pub located at 6 Hole in The Wall Street in Caernarfon, Wales. As you can see, I had already dug-in heartily before remembering my loyal readers and their need for food pictures! The small bowl to the left, with the fork inside, held veggies, I swear!!

Our final "home" on the trip was at the Diamond Lodge in Manchester, England. It was more of a traditional motor lodge, on the order of a Days Inn. It had an OK restaurant and a large lounge -- the front desk staff doubled as publicans. No photos of the interior or exterior -- don't know why, except we took a lot fewer pictures toward the end of our journey than at its beginning.

Our first food picture from the Manchester area comes from the Horse Shoe Inn in Poynton, where Dad supped on the Sunday special -- roast beef, potatoes (mashed and boiled), a Yorkshire pudding and tons of gravy and vegetables. I had a fish and chips plate -- unfortunately, the fish was breaded and not battered, hence not worth the space on my camera's memory card, or on this blog.

The other food picture from Manchester comes from the Brew Dog microbrewery in Manchester-proper. These are smoked spare ribs with a mason jar full of spicy barbecue "burnt" beans. Really good, and it helped you to drink more of the excellent microbrew. Dad had the last serving of brisket and he said it was lovely.

I lied in my Manchester, Day 2 post when I said that we didn't have a picture of the beer samplers we enjoyed at the Brew Dog. In fact, we do have a picture, taken partway through the tasting. The little blue cards on the extreme right of the photo, on the beer paddle handles, had the names, descriptions and alcohol content for each of the beers featured in the two sampler trays. After our samplers, we each ordered a full glass of our favorite variety.

Finally, as a stark comparison, here's a picture of the included breakfast I had at the hotel in Rochester, New York, a week after returning from England, while attending my cousin Matthew's wedding reception.

Where to next? What to eat next? I honestly don't know. I'd like to visit the Nordic countries -- Sweden, Norway, Finland and Iceland. Maybe even Denmark. One thing's for sure: I will keep on truckin' -- it excites and inspires me in so many ways that can't be found consistently in "ordinary" day-to-day life.

Greater Manchester - Poynton, Cheshire and Manchester Proper

2013-08-24T08:33:00.000-04:00

18th August - the last full day of our trip. Tomorrow we wake up and drive ourselves to the airport.

Today is devoted to Poynton, Stockport, Cheshire, England -- where my great-great aunt Amy ran an off-license (package store - liquor store) on Park Lane, and where my great-great uncle Billy and aunt Ethel lived. I met Ethel, Billy and Amy back in 1988, and I stayed with Ethel and Billy during my month in Europe with my Nana and my cousin Jonathan. Ethel, Billy and Amy were all childless and my Nana was an only child, so we have no living relatives left in England.

My dad's plan was simple -- try to find where the off-license was, and try to find Lindau -- which was Ethel and Bill's home for many years.

The roads to the tiny town of Poynton are equally tiny, and my dad was challenged by them -- judging the sides of the car and dealing with the oncoming traffic is stressful, even in a little Fiat! We ended up driving up and down the same narrow road through the woods three times, trying to find Lindau. Lindau's address didn't have a street number -- it was simply Lindau, Middlewood Road, Poynton. A Google search today reveals that many of the homes on Middlewood Road still lack street numbers, though digits have crept onto the street for other properties. Couldn't bullseye Lindau with the internet, and my dad just couldn't spot it on the road.

We looked for the location of the off-license on Park Lane, too. We narrowed-down the area using maps and memory, but no building was specifically recognizable to dad as the off-license.

Our next intended stop was the High Lane Chippy -- a mythical place like Avalon where I had the best fish and chips -- and mushy peas -- in my life back in 1988. We had a couple of contenders from an internet search, and we were off to find a great lunch!

Along the way I did spy the community centre in Poynton where Jonathan and I had filled-in for the day in a rehearsal for a production of Sleeping Beauty being put on by the local youth group back in the Summer of 1988. We took turns playing the role of the Prince and we endeared ourselves to the local lassies.

My Dad and I reached High Lane and found a place to park. We found the fish and chips place we thought might be the right one. It wasn't, and it was closed on Sundays, anyway. Instead, we lunched at the nearby Horseshoe Pub, a Robinson's House.

We had a good and filling lunch, then walked around for a bit. Not too far away, we spotted a canal narrowboat plying one of the local canals.

Quaint Cheshire Canal Boat

If you look closely, there is a dog wearing an orange tabard on the left bank. The dog belonged to the boat, and as the canal boat passed under the bridge on which we were standing the dog leapt from the bank back onto the boat to continue his journey with his boat and human companions. Sometimes it's the little things you see on your trip that are just so cool.

We returned to Manchester and our hotel shortly after our walk along High Lane. We decided to take a public bus into the heart of Manchester to see how we could spend our afternoon hours. My dad had looked into a tour of the Robinson's brewery before we left for our trip, but he hadn't reserved spots for the tour and the only tour of the day was fully-booked when we inquired from the hotel. Too bad.

Instead, we went to the Brew Dog microbrewery which has good marks on TripAdvisor. We weren't disappointed. We bought two samplers - each sampler had four 1/3-pint glasses of four varieties of their beers -- eight different beers in all. About 5 of them were quite decent, and my Dad and I each ordered a full pint of our favorites after finishing the sampler trays. We also had an early dinner at the Brew Dog -- my dad had brisket and I had BBQ pork ribs and burnt (deliberately) spicy baked beans. Yum! We were frankly camera-weary and neither of us whipped out our camera to shoot a picture of the place.

We returned to the hotel as the sun was setting and we unwound from our day in the lounge. We reviewed our list of things we wanted to do on the trip, and we found that we had ticked-off nearly every item. One item we missed -- having some real Cheshire cheese. Is that enough of an excuse to come back and tour the UK again??

I'm really proud of my Dad. We had a great trip and experienced a lot of quality father-son time, even when we had a little tiff over the quality of my Dad's initial driving skills way back in Inverness. We realized that you can never really go home again, as the famous author quipped, but that the reward comes from the attempt and not in reaching the destination. That's really a metaphor for one of the reasons behind our trip to the UK -- we can never have my Mom back, but we can keep her memories with us as we continue on our journeys, enjoying the experiences of our travels regardless of our ultimate destinations. The reward is cherishing the past while applying it as a filter to our present and to our future endeavors. It has been a healthy and fulfilling trip.

It has also been a tiring trip! We fly home tomorrow, early, so I think I'll knock-off and get some sleep. Probably one more post for this trip -- the long promised food and lodging special! You'll get to see where we slept and what we ate ... you won't want to miss it!

Greater Manchester - Stalybridge, Cheshire

2013-08-21T20:21:00.001-04:00

We packed up our things in Llandudno and headed to the train station early this morning, Saturday 17th August. Needed to get out of Dodge before the old-folks cornered us and made us play dominoes -- or shuffleboard....

We arrived at Manchester Piccadilly rail station after a 2-hour train ride, at just shy of Noon. We located and collected our rental car -- a neat little Fiat 500 like the ones they're selling now in the States. The car rental agent gave us a little bit of a hard time -- our reservation was for 11 AM but we didn't arrive at the counter until just after Noon -- the rental place was open until 1 PM. We think the guy wanted to leave early, but we were the last to collect our car.

Dad's turn to drive, and he did much better than his inaugural drive with a much larger car back in Inverness. I only cringed twice.

We located our hotel on the outskirts of Manchester-proper, the Diamond Lodge, with little difficulty in only about a half-hour. We were able to check in early and we got settled into our room. We decided it was high-time to head out in search of a pineapple, or more properly THE Pineapple, my great-grandfather's pub and the place where my Dad lived until relocating permanently to the States when he was about 12 years old. A half-hour drive from the hotel and we were in the small Cheshire town of Stalybridge.

We already knew that the pub was closed -- my Dad's pre-trip research had disclosed that the pub had been sold less than a year ago. We found it nonetheless, just so he could physically touch the walls and see what the old neighborhood looked like.

The old neighborhood didn't really exist anymore. When my Dad lived there, there were small row-houses to the left of the pub, arranged around a central courtyard where the outhouses were -- only the pub had indoor plumbing at that point in time (yes, my Dad is THAT old!) The row-houses and courtyard don't exist anymore. My Dad's room -- he thinks -- was the one shown in the first picture on the second floor at the right end of the building. The entrance used to be on the right-hand corner, but had been relocated sometime after the pub left the family's hands.

Less than a quarter mile away, on a "main" street in "downtown" Stalybridge - Grosvenor Street, was the Grosvenor Hotel (just a pub - no rooms to rent), which my Grampy ran for a few years when my Dad was even younger, before the family moved back to the States for the first time (my Dad was born in the US, the family relocated to England for a few years when my Grampy ran the Grosvenor, returned to the States after a few years, and then came back to England shortly after my great-grandfather died to help my great-grandmother run the Pineapple.) There is no Grosvenor Hotel anymore, and Dad wasn't even certain which building it had been.

Grosvenor Street itself is no longer a street, either -- it has been turned into a pedestrian zone with shops on either side.

We located a pub for a late lunch. The first pub we tried, full of pre-gaming football hooligans (Manchester United was to play its season-opener later in the afternoon against Swansea), didn't actually serve food, so we found another one 100 yards away -- part of the JD Wetherspoon chain of pseudo-pubs with cheap but decent eats (we have eaten at one or two others during our trip). This particular pub had the single best men's room either of us have ever had the pleasure to experience -- the decor, cleanliness, lighting and layout are sublime. It's hard to explain, but you need to pee in the men's room of the JD Wetherspoon pub in Stalybridge if you ever have the chance.

After lunch we sought out Dad's old School -- West Hill Primary. It still exists, but is now some sort of science-focused junior college and no longer what we would consider a grade school. The gates to the grounds were locked, so we took the opportunity for a photo-op at the school's sign:

We returned to the hotel shortly thereafter, after walking through the extensive and beautiful park which abuts the West Hill School. It started to rain pretty hard and continued to rain through the evening. Dad and I braved the rain to walk around the neighborhood of the hotel, but there was nothing really to recommend the area -- and no pubs or food places to speak of. Fortunately, our hotel has a full bar and a restaurant so we were able to relax, have dinner and a few drinks, watch some of the Manchester United game, and take it a little easy. We both frankly needed a little down-time.

Tomorrow we visit the town of Poynton, where my great-great uncle and aunts (Billy, Ethel and Amy) lived, and where I stayed for two weeks in the summer of 1988 with my Nana and my cousin Jonathan, who celebrates his nuptials in California in just about a week!

Stay tuned!

Interesting VacaKen Sidebar, Entry Seven:

Lots of luggage looks alike. That’s why lots of people try to personalize their luggage with “unique” marks, tags or dangles. Unfortunately for lots of people, their “unique” embellishments are similar to those of many other people. My Grandmother came up with a truly unique bag marker, which adorns my rolling bag: You know the plastic mesh bags that onions come in from the supermarket? Yup – I tie part of an onion bag to my luggage handle – NO ONE else uses that as a bag indentifier!! Even rarer, mine is yellow rather than the more ordinary red!

Wales Day 2, Part II - Conwy

2013-08-20T23:31:00.000-04:00

My dad and I left Caernarfon by public bus to Conwy at about 1:15. We had purchased day tickets in Llandudno costing £6.50 for unlimited travel on the public buses operated by Arriva in northern Wales. For three hours of total bus riding in the course of the day I'd say not bad! Bus service is frequent and efficient, but I have to give Arriva poor marks for its website - you can't make heads or tails of the fee structure and the travel zones, so we were at the mercy of the driver to charge us the correct price.

OK, back to castle talk! Conwy castle was built during the reign of Edward I, just like Caernarfon, toward the end of the 13th century. It, too, is built near to the sea and inside the town - both Caernarfon and Conwy are walled towns, and large portions of the medieval town walls still exist. The next two pictures are actually of portions of the town wall in Caernarfon. The third wall picture is from Conwy.

Conwy Castle is nearer to square than Caernarfon - or any other castle we've seen on this trip. You could also walk almost the entire way around on the battlements.

Because I know you like it, here's a really brief video clip from atop the battlements. Reminder, surf to www.vacaken.com to access the clip if you can't access it from the email summary!

Cool, huh? We climbed in and out of little rooms and passageways within the castle walls and towers. The circular staircases were steep and a bit dizzying, but at least the stair treads in Conwy had been widened a bit - the treads in Caernarfon were likely the originals and were probably less than 9" wide at the widest part! You can see why the caretakers of the castles posted nicely-worded "pass at your own risk" signs.

We spent a couple hours or so enjoying the castle and the cute town of Conwy. We caught a bus back to the old-folks town at about 4:45, and we arrived back at the hotel by 5:30. We made dinner reservations at an Italian place, Mama Rosa's, that was highly recommended by the staff at our B&B and by the community on TripAdvisor. The food and service were awesome, and the recommendations were well-deserved.
Tomorrow we take our last train of our journey, back to England and the northern industrial town of Manchester! Check back later for more!!

Wales Day 2, Part I - Caernarfon

2013-08-19T05:20:00.000-04:00

We got up reasonably early today, 16th August, for our breakfast at the B&B and to catch a bus for Caernarfon, Wales - a ride of a hair more than 90 minutes. Our plan was to combine our castles quest with stops on the Remembrance Tour - my Mom and Dad had visited the castles at Caernarfon and Conwy on their honeymoon. Plus, by leaving Llundudno for the day we could avoid the omnipresent old-people smell for a while.
We arrived in Caernarfon by about 11 AM and we were greeted by more great weather, as you can see in the pictures.
Caernarfon Castle is in the middle of the old town, and it's also the seat of the Prince of Wales. HRH Charles, Prince of Wales was invested with the title in this castle by his mother way back - in fact, less than a year before my parents visited the castle in July, 1970. The ceremony to invest the heir with the title Prince of Wales in Wales itself was revived by the Queen. A special slate platform (now permanently installed in the center of the castle grounds) and slate thrones were commissioned for the event. The intent is that the investiture of a Prince of Wales should continue to take place here in the future. I'm not sure what happened previously - I must have missed that information panel in the exhibit.

Caernarfon Castle is not a near total ruin, like Helmsley and Rievaulx are. It's not in decent shape, either - its somewhere in between. Its walls and towers are more or less intact and you can climb most of the towers and walk through passages within the walls. Not much in the way of interior buildings remain. Caernarfon is a smallish castle, and evokes the idealized mental image of what a castle should look like.

A good hour-plus of touring Caernarfon left us satisfied and content. And hungry. We decided to find a pub in Caernarfon for lunch before hopping a bus to Conwy (which is on the way back to Llandudno from Caernarfon, and about an hour away.)
We settled on the Four Alls pub, a free house a couple of blocks from the castle and the surrounding tourist area. A free house means that the pub is neither owned by nor exclusively licensed to a particular brewery. If a pub is owned or licensed by a brewery, its sign/exterior will be clearly marked with the name of the brewery (my great granfather's pub, the Pineapple, was a Robinsons house.)
The pub's sign defines what the 4 "Alls" are: the monarch rules for all, the soldier fights for all, the minister prays for all and the merchant pays for all. There is also a fifth All on the sign, if you look closely to the right of the merchant in the lower right quadrant - a devil-like character proclaims that it takes from all.

Next stop - and post - Conwy!!

Interesting VacaKen Sidebar, Entry Six:

I’ve been studying up on digital photography to better use my Canon EOS Rebel T3i DSLR camera. It has several pre-set “point-and-shoot” modes, and those are the settings I’ve primarily used on my previous trips. I bought the “For Dummies” book for the camera, and a good friend of mine who owns a camera shop sat down with me and my Dad to go over the manual settings available (thanks, Brian!). I’ve been playing around with shutter speed, f-stops/aperture and ISO settings on this trip to try and improve the photos I take. What do you think?

Llandudno, Wales - the Sarasota of the UK

2013-08-19T01:30:00.000-04:00

We made it to Llandudno on the northwest coast of Wales after making two train changes from York, arriving in Llandudno in the early afternoon of 15th August. We were able to check into the Grafton B&B straight away and we got ourselves sorted with alacrity. Our first stop - the Imperial Hotel, where my parents stayed on their honeymoon.

Imperial Hotel, Llandudno, Wales

We had a late lunch at the Imperial, to toast my parents and to offer ourselves an auspicious welcome to this quaint Victorian seaside resort (the Irish Sea, if anyone is wondering).

It's at the Imperial that I began to suspect that I was among the younger crowd in town. As we watched the world go by on the outdoor terrace, I realized that the world moved a little more slowly here - a plethora of canes, walkers, scooters and wheelchairs paraded before me on the promenade. I started to tease my Dad that we were at his kind of resort town, but I desisted as he began to get a little defensive about it. He has a lot of good memories from this place, like when he and my Mom went to a discotheque down the street at another hotel and she got (uncharacteristically) smashed on screwdrivers and he ended up letting her sleep it off in the Imperial's bath tub.

My Dad worked his way into grudging and humorous acceptance of my observations about the median age of the place. I told him to look on the bright side - other than maybe in Florida, he can count himself as a member of the younger crowd in Llandudno.
This is an actual picture taken as we walked down the street from the Imperial toward the Pier. Every seaside resort town has to have a pier.

We walked the length of the pier and back. Our original plan, to ride the cog train up the Great Orme, was put on hold by unanimous consent as the heavens started to open up on us. Instead we hightailed it back to the B&B to wait out the rain. I braved the rain and found us an off-license (a package store - liquor store) where I picked up a couple of beers to help us wait out the rain.

Mostyn Street, Llandudno, Wales at Twilight - August, 2013

The rain faded along with the sun and we made our way to a fish and chips place. We were anticipating a good meal as the place had won an award for 2012. Unfortunately everyone must get a trophy nowadays and the place was mediocre at best, and pretty greasy. The dessert, a jam roll, was pretty good.
We didn't do too much else our first night in Llandudno - for a resort town there is a dearth of decent pubs and the hotel bars are way overpriced. I don't think the seniors like to go out after dark, anyway.

The next morning, 16th August, we had a very serviceable breakfast at our B&B and we readied ourselves for castle-palooza - to Caerarfon and Conwy Castles - two well-preserved Edwardian castles from the 13th century. The day greeted us with a rainbow, too.

Stay tuned for the awesome castles at Caernarfon and Conwy!

Interesting VacaKen Sidebar, Entry Five:

I don’t usually buy a lot of souvenirs when I travel. A couple of small items only, or freebie beer coasters from pubs. Instead, I turn my photos into souvenirs. I have had several of my better photos turned into canvas prints via the CVS Photo website (thanks Darlene for the idea!), and I’ve used these canvas prints as wall art throughout my house. They lighten the place up and keep me drooling for more travel. Amsterdam, Salzburg and Bruges adorn my living room walls, and a huge 30”x40” canvas print of a fine art painting from the Kunsthalle in Hamburg hangs in my bedroom.
Oh, and a spooky pic of a Neanderthal skull from the Teyler's Museum in Haarlem, the Netherlands, stares at me from the back of my toilet when I pee.

North Yorkshire - The Ruins at Helmsley and Rievaulx

2013-08-18T03:16:00.001-04:00

Today, 14th August, we're castle hunting! We have been to a couple of castles so far - the still-in-use Windsor and Edinburgh castles. Today we're visiting the ruins of Helmsley Castle in Helmsley (I just like typing Helmsley -- reminds me for some reason of The Jeffersons). We will also explore what's left of Rievaulx Abbey. My parents visited both over 43 years ago.

Here's what's left of the remaining tower of Helmsley Castle. Helmsley (as I type it again, "Moving on up!" is playing on a loop in my head) began life in the 12th century. It was largely destroyed during a series of conflicts between the royalists and the parliamentarians during the English civil war.
As you can see the weather remains great - partly cloudy and upper 60s.

It took about 40 minutes to drive from Thirsk to Helmsley. The road conditions varied from normal city street and normal-width country road to 25% inclines on curvy roads barely a car width - meant as two-way streets - and the sides of the road were either tall walls and thickets or deep ditches.
My Dad and I brought a picnic with us, and we ate it while sitting on a bench in the market square of the Town of Helmsley. Had we known, we could have picnicked in the castle ruins itself - several families had been doing just that.

Lunch sorted out, we drove about twenty minutes to Rievaulx Abbey. The Abbey is located pretty much in the middle of nowhere - not town-adjacent as Helmsley Castle had been. The road to get there were sporty....

Rievaulx Abbey, North Yorkshire, England - August, 2013

Rievaulx Abbey was the home to Cistercian monks up until shortly after Henry VIII decided that divorce was preferable to papal authority and created the Church of England. The abbot wasn't too keen on the new game in town and created enough of a ruckus that the Abbey was forfeit to the crown. During its operation, the Abbey tended and harvested wool from sheep and did farming - one disastrous year (some sort of sheep plague) put the abbey in hock. The abbey never fully recovered from that, making the crown's take-over that much easier. Henry VIII took over a lot of Church property in this way.

Sanctuary of Rievaulx Abbey in North Yorkshire, England, August 2013

Still photos are pretty, but don't always convey the full scope and scale. To try my hand at being more of a conveyancer, here's a brief 2 minute video of the "inside" of the main sanctuary, pictured above. Friendly reminder - you may need to visit this page on www.vacaken.com to view the video.

Rievaulx is pretty darned cool.

A 25 minute car ride brought us back to Thirsk and the end of our last day in the Yorkshire Dales. Tomorrow we head back to the city of York, return the car, and head by train to the Riviera of northern Wales - Llandudno!

North Yorkshire - The Market Town of Thirsk

2013-08-17T03:07:00.001-04:00

We arrived in York at about 1:30 PM on 13th August. We located the car hire service and picked up our car - a bright red Toyota Yaris. This time I drove. It took about 40 minutes to drive to the Gallery B&B in the market town of Thirsk. We found it with little difficulty. We've been using Google Maps on our iPhones for turn-by-turn directions and so far the maps have been pretty darned good. The cheap USB cigarette lighter adapters I picked up before the trip have been great to keep our phones charged while using the battery-intensive Maps and GPS features.

One of the first shops we saw on entering the town was a little sandwich shop. But, as it shares a name with one of my nephews, I thought I'd take a picture of it.
Thirsk is in the heart of North Yorkshire, and is the local town for the surrounding farms and hamlets. The marketplace in the town center is charming and contains eateries, small shops, 3 small supermarkets and about a dozen pubs. Apparently Thirsk has some, err, Thirst.

Thirsk's largest attraction, however, aside from its quaint charm, is the James Herriot Museum.

The Herriot Museum chronicles the life of Vetrinarian James Wight (Herriot was a pen name). The first half of the museum explores the "real James Herriot" and the second part follows his rise to fame through his books ("All Creatures Great and Small" was the breakout hit in the U.S.), the BBC television series that was more popular in the U.S. (the Downton Abbey of its day in the 70s) and the TV movies. The last bit of the museum records the history of veterinary practice.

ABOVE, Left: beloved character Mrs. Pumphrey and her dog, Tricky-woo wait to be seen by Dr. Herriot. Poor Tricky-woo has been stricken with flop-bott again. Right: My Dad, also suffering from flop-bott, sits down in one of the TV series sets, attempting to learn his lines.
The museum was very well done, whether you are a particular fan of Herriot or not. There is also a 20 minute video, hosted by Christopher Timothy (who starred as Herriot in the TV series), which is well worth seeing and which is the transition point from the "real" Herriot to the famous one. There is even an interactive section of the museum, allowing kids of all ages the chance to dig in, elbows deep.

An udderly brilliant experience!We strolled around the Thirsk marketplace, checked out the historic church not far from the center, and took the opportunity to do some washing-up.

Next we'll head further into the Yorkshire countryside and explore the ruins of Helmsley Castle and Rievaulx Abbey!

Interesting VacaKen Sidebar, Entry Four:
My favorite travel accessory? My bottle-opener. There really aren’t twist-off tops for bottled beer in Europe, and bottles are better than cans. You can also buy soft drinks in glass bottles with caps – although plastic bottles with twist-offs are taking over.
My second favorite travel accessory? My toenail clippers. Although useful to trim your nails, I’ve used them more frequently to open stubborn packages, trim wayward threads and clip open zip ties I’ve used to secure my luggage in the hotel from casual snooping by chambermaids.