tintern abbey

The last few days have been rather boring, inasmuch as days spent in the (desparately rural) English country-side can be.

And by that, I mean that there has been a lot of home-work, hiking, and (help me think of another word beginning with H? I do so love alliteration)… you get the picture.

Only thing really notable: I hiked to Seaton again Saturday afternoon (about a four mile, quite hilly, trip—my calves thanked me later for the definition) and gathered a few groceries as well as browsed through some charity shops. I think it’s quite amusing that they’re called that, as charity shops just sound so much more patronizing than “thrift stores,” as we say in the states. 

Sunday was rather rainy. I don’t think I left the hostel once. Read my Bible, Othello, and wrote a bit.

We left Beer this morning. I’m not going to lie—I was quite ready to leave, although it was “home” for two weeks, so I felt a bit nostalgic. My boyfriend called to my attention that I tend to do that—grow nostalgic right before leaving/right after leaving a place. Do most people? I’m not sure. But he’s right—even if I’ve hated the place (not to say I hated Beer, but two weeks was a long time to spend there), there’s a bit of me that says “Hey, you spent some of your life here, left a piece of yourself here, and that means something.” Whatever. Maybe it’s the romantic in me.

Drove two hours and crossed the Welsh border to arrive at Tintern Abbey (ok all you lovers of the Romantics—pull out your Wordsworth because, yes, you’re right—he did write “Lines Composed Above Tintern Abbey” here!) around 11 a.m. I know I say this about most places we go but—this place was truly incredible.

ain't she a beaut?

Founded in 1131, Cistercian monks used the Abbey for the next few centuries before it slowly crumbled into abandoned ruins. The skeleton of the original Abbey is still there—a place for tourists to wonder through, marvel at, and climb on. We spent an hour just walking through it. In the used-to-be-kitchen, you can see the stone shelves where monks would have placed their bread, or you can descend down the stone steps into the cathedral, as the monks would have done, coming from their dormitory to sing their 2 a.m. services. Grass dotted by white daisies grows where monks would have once wondered for evening prayers, and the ceiling is gone, topped off instead by cobalt blue sky. The Gothic architectural style means that there’s sky-piercing arches and enormous gaping windows where stain glass once shone.

AJ scaling some walls

look at those windows!

inside arches

i loved these illustrations-- also, the left side is in Gaelic!

panorama standing on the second floor of the abbey

          After wondering in the ruins for about an hour, we headed into the village and over a bridge, hiking uphill until we could overlook the Abbey. Dr. Colon then read Wordsworth’s famous poem (a WIE tradition) before we headed into town for lunch. I had a Ploughman’s platter (apparently an English thing) – aged cheddar, ham, crusty bread, salad (fresh veg! with dressing!), pickled onions, and an apple. It was some of the best food I’ve had here—I was delighted! Afterwards, I bought some chocolate ice-cream for the long bus ride. It was a good afternoon, and I was happier than I have been for awhile.  

            Two hours later, we arrived at Swadlincote Youth Hostel in the National Forest. We’ll be here for a few nights, and it’s pretty spacious which is nice. Also they have wifi, which we're all very happy about. Tomorrow we’re taking a day trip to Stratford-on-Avon, where William Shakespeare lived, and after a few more stops we're heading to see the play Othello. Should be good. I’ll keep you updated as I can, friends!

beer quarry caves

Good evening, friends.

Yesterday, we went to the Beer Quarry Caves in the afternoon. We walked about a mile from our hostel to the cave entrance, where we were instructed to don bright yellow hard hats before we entered the earth’s bowels. Sorry for that image—I think I’ve been reading too much Milton. 

can we spelunk it? yes we can!

the galbraith family enters courageously

 Our tour guide was a cheerful Brit named Oliver who was pushing 75. He had a well-rehearsed and humorous speech that he recited jovially as he took us on a 5 acre tour of the man-made caves. The Romans began digging the caves around 74 A.D. when they noticed the abundance of white stone in Beer; since then, the quarry operated until 1900, allowing centuries of quarry men to dig an astonishing 76 acres underground. Stone from Beer quarry is actually in many famous cathedrals (St. Paul’s, Westminster, Salisbury).

a cathedral window that had been carved in the quarry

folks have gotten lost down there...

The tour lasted about an hour. I’m not usually one for cold (40 degrees), dark, dank places, but Oliver kept the exhibition enjoyable as he told anecdotes of ghosts, educated us about the history of the caves, and demonstrated to us how hard a quarry man’s life actually was. This last part really got me—we see these amazing cathedrals, but we rarely stop to ponder how hard it truly was to create something of such splendor. Quarry men worked 14 hour days, chipping away by candle-light to produce two or three 4 ton blocks that would be carted off miles away to a cathedral sight, carved by a stone-mason, and assembled. Just the sheer manpower of it is incredible. 

it was hard to take photos-- so dark down there, but i managed to capture one of the stone pillars

Afterwards, I headed with Sophie and LucyRose to the beach, where we explored a bit (found a sea-cave, but haven’t gotten to go in it…maybe wait till low tide?) before Sophie and LucyRose waded into the water for a dip. The ocean water here is icy cold, so I declined, but I took a few pictures.

ocean exploring

basically mermaids

This afternoon, it was rainy and drizzly-- the fog baptized the country-side in heavy-handed whiteness. I spent most of the day inside, reading. 

School work is bearing down and wifi is scarce, so apologies if I don’t update any in the next few days.

As always, thanks for reading, folks!

stonehenge // salisbury cathedral

It’s been a few days since I wrote. Apologies.

Monday and Tuesday: homework and hiking and just basically hanging out with the same 35 people. This whole group thing has been an adventure. As Anna, one of the girl who works at the Beer hostel said, “Thirty five people and you’ve been together for two months? It’s a wonder there hasn’t been a murder yet!” I agree, Anna.

Monday, Nathaniel, AJ, and I hiked to Seaton rather spontaneously in the afternoon. We took the coastal path which twists up the hills, providing excellent views of the sea below. 

AJ, what a swell kid

The ocean glistens under the sunlight like salmon scales and the breeze is salty and fresh. The town itself is about 1.5 miles away, and it’s rather cute. However, we got there around 5:15 and almost everything there closes at 5 pm. Unfortunate, but we did hit up the food Co-op and Tesco, purchasing some fresh fruit and veg before catching the bus back. The hike is rather steep and the bus isn’t free, so I haven’t been there as often as I’d like, but it’s a large sea-side town with several cafes and vintage stores. I’m planning on heading back there Sunday.

Tuesday afternoon, Namatha, Sophie, and I spent the afternoon after classes lying on the beach, sunbathing, talking, and people-watching. It was relaxing.

fishing boats on beer beach

Tuesday night, I popped into The Anchor pub (one of the three places here with free wifi) to skype my boyfriend. Ordered a cappuccino and stayed for about an hour before I got several rude looks from the manager/waiters. It’s been a bit rough to get wifi here. We need it for school & to keep in touch with family/friends but there’s no wifi in the hostel, so we have to trek 10 minutes into town. However, the people of Beer aren’t super friendly when you order a coffee and stay at their establishment for 2 hours on the computer. We don’t think about it much in the states, but I think it’s a cultural thing—it’s not done as much here, especially in small towns with privately owned places. And with a group of 35 American kids staying in a small town—word gets around quickly that we don’t spend a lot of money and stay for awhile…. so we haven’t been greeted exuberantly by the coffee shop/pubs as of late.

dr colon posted this photo of me-- chilling by the bathrooms, just trying to get that wifi

Wednesday, we took a two hour bus ride to Stonehenge, which is actually incredibly cool. We marveled at the Neolithic burial mounds and observed the incredibly huge stones stacked precariously on top of each other to form a sort of sun temple, built 4, 500 years ago. Stonehenge is in the middle of rolling green-grass hills that stretch out endlessly, and the sky looks as if it’s been placed on a glass table that hovers close by the earth. 

roofless past

We learned about the pre-historic people, the history of the place, why it might have been built there, and how the 70 ton stones might have been brought from so far away. Sheep stare at you a few feet away from behind fences and starlings pluck worms out of the earth. It’s a merging of humanity’s history and nature, and a record of how humans have attempted to interact with the earth for centuries. 

just think of what this looks like during the sunrise!

Afterwards, we headed to Salisbury village to check out the cathedral there. Consecrated in 1258, the cathedral houses one of the original copies of the Magna Carta, which is on display for the public and is celebrating its 800^th anniversary.  

salisbury cathedral

Graves of knights and royalty from the 1300’s to the 1900’s lie off to the side, stone carvings of saints hide in the shadows, and candles flicker in individual cathedrals set aside for prayer. Britain’s tallest spire juts boldly into the sky, the stone walls rise hundreds of feet to graciously meet the intricately painted ceiling, and the stain glass windows filter in a peaceful transcendence of pale red and yellow light. This place seemed a bit more human than the other cathedrals we’ve been to, a bit more attainable. Perhaps because it was smaller or less crowded, I felt closer to God here than I have yet been able to. It may be tempting to say that all the cathedrals tend to look the same after awhile, but I’d have to disagree—each one contains a certain aura, and the delicate decorations and ornamental displays are always different and consistently beautiful.

entry way

view from inside the chapter house/cloister

incredible ceiling

We headed into the bus for one last stop: George Herbert’s small parish church in Salisbury. George Herbert was a 17^th century poet, writing such devotional poems such as “The Collar” and “The Altar.” His church is a small, stone building, with not even enough seating for our group. The contrast between that humble parish and Salisbury was striking. We sung a hymn there and read one of his poems before bundling back into the bus for a two hour ride back to the hostel. 

george herbert's church

Today, after classes, we headed to the Beer Quarry Caves. I hope to post about that experience tomorrow. 

We will be leaving Beer Monday, and though this place is wonderfully beautiful, I will be happy to move on.

Cheers, folks!

dog show // donkey sanctuary

Saturday afternoon was a bit dreary, so a group of us spent it reading Pygmalion inside. We assigned each other characters to read and set about trying to conquer it with British accents. The result was a dismal yet truly hilarious performance.

In the evening, a large group of us headed to an Indian Restaurant in town, “The Spice Merchant,” before splitting up to do a bit of evening hiking. We ran into a few horses and slid down some pebbly mountainsides.

those clouds though

casual horse-whispering saturday night

seaton

This morning, I woke up a bit late and grabbed a latte at Osborne’s before spontaneously boarding a bus with Namatha, Dr. Galbraith & Co. We drove out to Sidmouth to a Donkey Sanctuary where 500 rescued donkeys reside. A dog show was also going on, so we spent a bit of time observing the agility competition, the beauty pageant, and petting a few pups. I made a couple of canine friends who were more than happy to pose for me.

handsomest hound competition

his name was sully

this is dave

Afterwards, we visited the donkey hospital, attempted the topiary maze, and pet a few donkeys who meandered towards the fence with lazy curiosity. Each of the donkeys had names like “Earl Dickson” or “Janice Motten” and they strutted about as if they owned the place and just happened to let you pop in.  Poitou donkeys, large and shaggy, munched disinterested by a fence while miniature donkeys nuzzled your hands affectionately.

pretty much donkey heaven

hello, there

almost a unicorn

A short bus ride back and Nam and I are sitting in Osborne’s once more, tapping into precious wifi and staying in touch with the outside world. The rest of the afternoon should be pretty lazy—I might wash my clothes (no washing machines here, should be an adventure) and read a bit.

Cheers, friends!

exploring beer//hikes

Yesterday, I had the entire afternoon free so I headed to town to explore thoroughly. 

beer is filled with these tiny treasures/ this pump provides a stream that runs all the way through town

Most of the shops there are touristy, bursting with trinkets, jam, fudge, and tea. I also found an “up-scale” grocery store (like the Whole Foods of Beer) as well as a scuzzy* fish and chips shop, a post-office, and an antique store.

 

The antique shop was actually chock full of cool things, including poems written by a World War II soldier casually slipped into an envelope and hiding in a book shelf. I found baptism certificates from 1892, wedding license from 1902, and old star-wars comic books from 1978. There were countless ceramics, old brooches, and tons of fishing devices (Beer is historically a fishing town). It was a treasure trove.

made a friend

Chatted with quite a few Brits. Their sense of humor is distinct, and their bluntness hides behind mitigated politeness. They also tend to be more formal and a bit quieter than Americans. They’re friendly enough though, and I’ve enjoyed most of the interactions I’ve had with them.

Later, I headed towards the beach for some reading. Beer beach is odd- a small inlet between two white cliffs and the shore is made entirely of smooth, round stones. Walking on it is difficult, because it sucks you down and you must continually pull your feet up and forge on towards another step. On the main beach, people sun bathed between striped beach chairs and small fishing boat. 

v posh, beer beach

One man pulled on a wetsuit and swam into the water, joining the kayaks and buoys. Dogs barked and splashed, seagulls cawed high above, and the waves flowed gently onto the shore. A fishy smell pervaded the air, mixed with sea-salt and afternoon heat. A little further, closer to the cliffs, moss covered rocks were exposed by low-tide, and tourists balanced on them carefully. The sun shone down with the lackadaisical intensity I have come to expect from the British sun—not too hot, not too humid, just warm enough to know it’s there. Not a bad place for reading. 

reading view

Later, I hiked up the mountain for a bit of shade before heading home for dinner (which was chicken curry that was oddly quite good. I find this fascinating—the Brits themselves produce bland food and yet they fully embrace the Indian cuisine of spice.) 

After dinner, I hiked the coastal path to Seaton, the nearby village. It was a lovely hike, complete with ambling fields, wooded paths, and breath-taking views of the coast. I made my way down to another coastal inlet that was deserted, and spent a bit of time just admiring the towering cliffs above me. The sun was setting, the shadows were long and deep, and my solitary hike left me introspective, joyful, and marveling at the English country-side.

That led to this poem, by the way.

through fields and sunshine

sea cliffs at sunset

seaton

through the shaded wood

 Today or tomorrow, I might hike to Seaton again and explore the town a bit.

By the way, if you’re the kind of nosy folk I am, you’ll be delighted to know that there are two potential couples on this trip that I’m keeping my eye on.

Cheers, friends!

*British slang for cheap and greasy food

exploring bath & bath houses

And ah, wifi! How delicious you are. Thank you, Jesus, for cafes with internet even if that means tipsy British men who try bad Chicago accents when you tell them where you’re from.

Wednesday afternoon, a group of us hiked the coastal path, meandering through cow fields and grassy pastures dangerously close to dropping off into the sea. We came across some structural remains of old stone cottages as well as giant cow pies. The view of the sea was incredible—vast and a deep navy gray, stretching out into the hazy horizon. It broke sternly onto the white cliffs of Dover as sea-gulls squawked above us, diving into the ocean in search of fish. 

the sleepy fishing village of beer

hiking hikers hike

Thursday, the entire troop went to Bath. We bundled into the bus around 9 am, unprepared for what lie in store. It was one of the bumpiest, most harrowing bus rides I’ve ever been on. Several threw up, most were sick, and it took us almost three hours to reach our destination.

When we were finally on sturdy ground, our group headed towards Bath’s fashion museum or the Victorian art museum. In desperate need of coffee, I headed with Jeff and Namatha towards Colonna & Small’s, apparently the best coffee house in Bath. We were served by the UK Barista champion who whipped me up a delicious Flat White. 

coffee magicians at work

We then meandered about, popping into a cheese shop and observing some of Bob Dylan’s art. Nam also was fortunate to meet a pigeon man named Paul who set about placing pigeons on her arms and head. 

paul & nam share a moment (and a pigeon)

so much happy

 Bath is a bit like a quieter, smaller London, I think. I enjoyed it.

Afterwards, we headed towards the ancient Roman baths, where we were free to wonder, guided by our audio tour. The place is bathed (excuse my pun) in history. The only natural hot water spring in Britain, the Celts took advantage of the healing properties of the water long before the Romans. Conquering Roman soldiers turned the place into a temple and bath house around 76 A.D. The Victorians discovered the ruins of the ancient Roman bath house in the late 19^th century, rebuilding some of it and uncovering ancient artifacts.

entry way to Baths

bath cathedral and bath house (on right)

the king's spa

the main bath was being cleaned

 The place today is incredible. You can wonder ancient Roman ruins, observe temple statues, see coins tossed into the fountain, and read about the people who frequented the baths almost a thousand years ago. We even tasted the natural hot spring water which was disgustingly mineral.

yum, mineral water

rushing underground springs

Afterwards, we walked around Bath a bit more, ducking down side alleys and purchasing salads (fresh greens!) and ice cream. I bought a cone of “Cream Tea” which had clotted cream flavored ice cream with scones and jam mixed in. Only in England, folks!

to ice-cream and england!

Our daring bus driver attempted a new, “less-bumpy” (debatable…) route home, which involved squeezing the enormous bus through a wooded path--Dr. G was gracious enough to hop out and hold back a few tree limbs for us. We almost hit a car, swerved to miss a wall, and made it home safely around 6:30 p.m.

Today it’s sunny and our regular class schedule resumes. Will probably hike a bit, purchase some groceries, and head to town for Indian food later on.

I think our group is starting to feel the traveling tolls, so prayers would be appreciated.

We’re here in Beer for another week, so don’t expect a whole lot of exciting updates. It’ll be mostly school and hiking. Next stop is Cambridge, I do believe. I’ll keep you posted.

Cheers, friends!