Ely and beyond

A week has passed and this has been my first opportunity to put pen to paper - or fingers to keyboard. We are sitting in Hong Kong Airport, waiting to board our flight. So much has happened.

On our final day in Bury, Keith and I decided to drive over to Ely to explore the Cathedral and see where Oliver Cromwell lived. It was a glorious final day to be in England. Not a cloud in the sky, and it was almost balmy in temperature. Ely Cathedral is set upon a hill and it stands among the fels - tall and majestic and visible for miles. The late afternoon sunlight made the cathedral sparkle. It is a Normal building that is austere and plain inside. I loved the floors with its simple green and red marble floor. There were floors with rustic quirky paving stones. The ceilings and stained glass windows were majestic. The simplicity of the building allows the colours from the windows to dominate and shine. We enjoyed wandering around and found the burial place of a bishop who had met with Ricky and engaged in vigorous debate - both disagreeing with one another.

We then went and wandered past the home of Oliver Cromwell. Outside there is a seat with Mrs Cromwell's favourite recipe for Roast Eel. I decided to pass on jotting it down. We drove back to Bury watching the sun set. The colours were soft and muted and seemed to capture the soft light we had experienced during our time in England.

We had a final dinner out with Susan and Ricky who treated us to a feast. It was a fitting final evening after a wonderful week staying with them - we shared so many stories and laughter and fun. It was a truly memorable visit. We were up at 5am the next morning to drive to Heathrow.

We watched the sunrise this time and it was a beautiful way to leave England. Twelve hours later we arrived in Hong Kong to bright warm sunshine, heat, freeways, bridges, noise, highrise towers in overstated abundance, people and people and colour. It was a completely overwhelming arrival and felt like we had moved from the fridge into a simmering wok. We found our Hotel - the YMCA which is located right on the harbour at Kowloon. My friend Melinda met us there a couple of hours after our arrival. What a joyful and happy reunion we shared!

We set off in our coolest clothes and sunglasses and caught the ferry across to the Island and then walked up to the cable car to travel to the Peak. The glorious weather had followed us and Hong Kong was fairly clear. The assent was steep and I wanted to keep my eyes closed, but refrained as the view was spectacular.

Hong Kong may be densely populated and have more high rise buildings in a smaller space than anywhere else in the world, but its harbour and mountains seems to give it an air of order and beauty. We walked beneath tall trees that gave us a sense of coolness. I couldn't get over the walkways that join places and buildings. We were able to walk from the harbour to the cable car - at least one km, and not cross a single busy road.

Once at the top, we sat and marvelled at the view, the size of this city and the number of people who inhabit and visit this tiny space. We sat and talked and talked and laughed and talked some more. We haven't seen Melinda for two years, so it was good to catch up on her life and her family.

We watched the sun setting over the ocean, visited the Dymocks bookstore and browsed and finally had dinner at a Japanese restaurant overlooking the harbour. The outlook was glorious - Hong Kong at night is almost magic with the lights and different colours on the buildings. We felt we had arrived in a tropical hot pot of vibrant colour. My brain felt overstimulated and I longed for bed.

Winter is here

During the week we have been in Bury, we have watched the leaves fall from the trees and vanish - they are raked away to leave the trees and ground bare and wintery.

We have not had marvellous weather here - yesterday it rained all day. We were a little anxious about whether our visas and passports would arrive. This morning they were delivered by special delivery - much to our relief and for Ricky and Susan who were wondering if we would be stuck here.

Last Saturday we met Susan and Ricky in Cambridge for lunch and then saw the play by Alan Bennett "Enjoy". It was set in 1980 and a dark comedy, but most enjoyable.

We have been travelling by bus to Cambridge through Newmarket, much to my excitement, as I have read all of Dick Francis' books, many of which are set in and around Newmarket. We drove past the flats where the horses are exercised, many trainer's yards and homes and two statues of Hyperion - the most famous horse in history.

It is a delightful meander which takes about an hour. Imagine driving along country roads on a double decker bus! The driver generally travels at a high speed.

It has been a delight to watch autumn mature. We arrived in England just as the leaves were losing their summer finery and now they are becoming bare - in readiness for the long winter. The squirrels are busy storing nuts by burying them deep in the ground - they are a nuisance, but they are certainly very cute!

Bury St Edmunds

We were sad to leave our friends behind - we had such a wonderful time with them. We flew from Dublin to Gatwick and were greeted by grey drizzle which we drove through on the M25 around London, to Bury St Edmunds which is a town close to Cambridge.

My aunt lives here with her husband and we arrived in the late afternoon in time for a cup of tea. They have just moved into this house, which is incredible. It is built into the ruins of the Abbey which fell into disrepair during Henry VIII's reign. At that time, it was the largest Abbey in Europe. There is now a cathedral and the most beautiful gardens around the ruins which are open to the public. There is a wall of houses beside the Cathedral which is where their house is.

It is really the most amazing place to live. It is four storeys, and the top floor has been labelled the grotto by Susan, as there is this cave like wall that cannot be touched and the house has been built around it. Next to the front door is a wall, and behind this is the kitchen, but the wall is fourteen feet thick!

It was dark on our arrival and in the morning, when I looked out of our bedroom window, this is the view:



I have been fighting a cold this week and the weather is not exactly enticing for the tourist. But it has been fun to lie low and pretend that I live here in style. Yesterday we had a mad panic realising that we had to apply for visas for China and needed to do this now, rather than on our arrival in Hong Kong, which is what our travel agent had advised. The rules had changed on November 1st. We had to pay a fortune to get it done via an organisiation in London, who do the leg work for you, but it removes the angst and hopefully, they will arrive by post on Monday, with our passports! The Chinese Embassy is just around the corner from where we were staying in London - silly me!

My cousin by name visited yesterday who I had not seen for thirty years. We had such fun together and reminsced about our teenage exploits and the fun we had had together in Sydney in 1978. She now has a thirteen year old son who is autistic and is his full time carer - so she had a 24 hour break which we managed to fill with eating, shopping, talking and laughing endlessly.

Keith went into Cambridge by bus and registered to use the library and spent the remainder of the day there. He has returned there today and Susan and Ricky have left us alone for two nights - they have gone up to Cambridge together. I think this is my first afternoon and evening alone and I am about to cook dinner on the Aga and a quiet night in.

It is nice not to be a tourist and just be domestic. I think that Susan and Ricky are hoping that we don't burn their house down in their absence.

Tomorrow I am going into Cambridge with Keith to meet up with Gerald Bray and Marty Forde.

Sugarloaf Mountain and Black Pudding

Yesterday there about nine things that Jane wanted to do with us. We realised our time here is drawing to a close and there was not enough time to fit them all in. As the sun was shining, we decided to climb Sugarloaf Mountain that lies to the south of Shankhill, which is where Ed and Jane live.

It is a spectacular looking hill and we were assured there were wonderful views from the top. We were not disappointed. It is really a scramble up to the top - you pull yourself up. The sun shone and we could see snow on the Wicklow hills in the distance.



After enjoying the views, we scrambled down and drove on the Sallygap Road to a place where there were spectacular views to a hidden lake. The countryside had this raw, bleak beauty that is incredibly appealing. It is a two hour return walk, and with all the other things we wanted to do, we decided we would have to do this walk "next time".



Once home, Ed cooked us all bacon and eggs with black pudding. It was surprisingly good and we enjoyed it immensely. Jane was determined to get us to taste this during our time here, so we did.

Later that afternoon, we went to see the latest James Bond movie that had just come out and thoroughly enjoyed it. There is every chase imaginable and there is a constant adrenalin rush through the entire film. Keith didn't think it was as good as Casino Royale, but I thought it was great.

We then went out to dinner with some friends from Crinken church - and had a wonderful evening and a delicious meal. The Irish are warm and friendly and great fun. They were as interested in us as we were in them - it was a late night talking in front of a fire. Later, Ed drove us home past Bono's home, not that we could see much,as it is gated and surrounded by a high wall.

Snippets of history

During our time with Ed and Jane, we have been soaking up Irish history. I knew very little about how the Republic of Ireland evolved and why Ireland is divided into north and south, and have little understanding of the religious and political tensions that have created the Ireland of today. A couple of nights ago we watched the film "Michael Collins" about one of the leaders of the uprising and eventual civil war during the 1920s. I was intrigued. Earlier this week, Ed and Jane took us to where the Battle of the Boyne took place in 1690 - a different period of time, but equally significant.

I have also learnt about the potato famine which almost halved the population in size and despite pleas to the English for help, none was received. We found out that most of the trees of Ireland were removed centuries ago by the English to build Naval ships - ships such as those we saw at Portsmouth several weeks ago - the Victory, the Mary Rose and the Warrior. Poverty, hunger and cold were the bleak reality for most Irish people.

Ed's father grew up about six kilometres from the Cliffs of Moher during the 1920s and never visited them. The expression "you can't eat a view" was the reality of their life. Most of the children had no shoes and having felt the cold you would have permanent frozen ice blocks for feet and would not choose to walk anywhere.

Ed's grandfather's name was John O'Halloran and he grew up in Tulla - east Clare. Keith has just discovered that one of his distant ancestors was John Halloran who grew up in Dooniss - not far from there! The O was often dropped off in Irish names. Keith's ancestor made his way to Australia during the potato famine in 1855. What an amazing coincidence. There is a genealogical centre in Clare and if we had known this information before going, we might have been able to trace these two John's to see if there was any connection. Next time.

As it was, we had plenty to keep us busy. We were keen to visit the place where Niall Williams has settled with his wife Chris Breen in 1985. I have been reading their delightful book "O Come Ye Back to Ireland: Our first year in County Clare" during our time here and enjoyed it immensely. They settled in a place called Kiltumper which is not on the map but is close to the village of Kilmihil. On arriving there, Jane went into the post office to ask for directions to Kiltumper. "And who would you be looking for there?" she was asked. On explaining that we were Australians and just wanted to go there, she was asked "would you be looking for the Williamses?" She was given very Irish directions "well you see this road? you go down this road a while and you go past the school and then you go and you come to a bend in the road to the left. At the point of the bend there is a road and this is where you go. You will then go past a house, then another house and then there is a lull and then you are there."

We followed these directions and found their house, but didn't want to intrude - we just peeked over the hedge. Their first summer had been very wet I felt like I had been there with them as they adjusted to their new life away from New York. It is an insightful look at Irish life and the friendliness and warmth of the people as well as the harsh realities of the land and making ends meet.

They had described a monument in Kilmihil erected in the 1920s commemorating Sean Brean who had been shot during the uprising. So we returned to Kilmihil to find it. Nothing jumped out at us and we found ourselves in the Catholic cemetery when a woman walked in, who we stopped to ask if she could tell us where it could be found. In the way of the Irish, we engaged in a delightful conversation with her and found out all sorts of things but nothing about any monument, as she is fairly new to the area - her late husband was from here and was now buried in this cemetery and she daily visited him.

She suggested we ask at the post office, which we were reluctant to do, as we had already been there. We could already imagine the gossip of the village - these four Australian's looking for the Williamses and a monument. Fortunately, we stumbled across it by accident - in the book, it was outside the community hall which is now the public library. It is a beautiful celtic cross and diagonally across the road is a stone marking the place where he was shot. Sean Breen had been involved in attempting to shoot the police as they left church one Sunday morning. The police then started shooting and threw grenades towards civilians also leaving the church, so Sean ran forward in an attempt to divert them from killing innocent people and in the process was shot himself. In the book is a letter his mother Catherine writes to her sister living in Australia expressing her angst but also pride in her son's actions. A tiny village and a tiny snippet of history, but somehow it seemed to make the reality of the uprising and civil war more real to each of us.







We had a most untypical Irish day - clear blue skies without cloud. We headed for the coast - a place called Spanish Point. We walked along a flat beach in the brisk cold and enjoyed the sun and sea. Again, this place has a history - this time of a Spanish ship retreating during the Spanish Amarda that hit the rocks and sank. The crew survived and spent the remainder of their lives here - thus explaining the dark skin and hair of some of the locals.





After driving along a part of the coast that was spectacular, we had lunch in a village at a pub - another vegetable soup which was green this time - so Jane and I had fun identifying the vegetables, we headed back for Dublin. A long drive without snow and with wonderful views of the countryside clothed with autumn splendour that turned golden in the setting sun.

West coast county Clare

We set off on Wednesday for the wild west coast of Ireland. This is where Ed's father grew up in a tiny coastal village. It is also where Niall Williams lives and writes is evocative books which we have all read and enjoyed. We drove through a snow storm heading west. it was so white we wondered if it might be wise to turn back and head home.



Towards late afternoon we arrived in Ennis where we were to stay for two nights. The snow had eventually turned to rain, but it was cold, bleak and windy. We walked around the town looking for pubs where we might eat and hear some traditional Irish music. Keith bought me a CD of Declan O'Rourke and chatted with the guy in the shop who assured us there were at least four pubs that served "very nice meals" and had music. We found one, that proudly displayed a sign "live music tonight at 9pm". This is where we did eat and waited for the music. At around 9.45, we asked the owner when the music would be starting and he told us they didn't do live music on Wednesday's. This seems to capture something of the Irish, where you don't find out the full truth about anything - yes, we have live music but not tonight.

We awoke to a clear blue sky and drove to the Cliffs of Moher. These cliffs seem to arise out of no where - they soar 200 metres above the sky. Despite the sun, it was bitterly cold and we tried to rug up as warmly as we could. We made a dash for the cliffs from the car and enjoyed the spectacular views across to the Aran Islands, and up and down the coast and then down to the sea. This is a place of bleak beauty - but it was almost too cold to stand and appreciate. We headed back to the car and drank cups of coffee in the warmth before driving north up the coast towards Black Head.







There are these castles dotted around the country side that are crumbling down, but dominate the local landscape.





The colours of the rocks, sea and grass blend to an irish quilt of greys and greens waiting to be made back home. I love the rocky walls - these stones have been put together like a jigsaw puzzle and are then overgrown with gorse and bracken. In the spring time, Jane tells me that the gorse flowers bright yellow - this must be an amazing sight. I am enjoying the autumn colours, but at this place there are no trees and the landscape is barren and bare.



We decide to head towards a perfumery in the Burren National Park in a village called Corofin where they have a cafe. The countryside is gorgeous and it seems like we are driving forever along windy narrow roads with few signposts and there is an uncertainty that we will reach this spot on the map.

We stop firstly to see a dolmen. This is an ancient portal tomb that dates back to the Neolithic period, 3200BC. We are amazed that this structure has stood the test of time - the winds, the rain, the blizzards and the gales.





On arriving, we discover that the cafe is open during summer only - we can only laugh as it has taken us so long to get there. The pub in Corofin had looked inviting, with beautiful views across a loch. We arrive to discover it is closed to the public as there is a private function on. By this time is is 3.30, so we load ourselves into the car to in the hopes of eventually finding a pub that will find us. We are finally revived with soup and brown soda bread - an Irish staple that is delicious - as was the vegetable soup, that looked like pumpkin, but was probably mostly carrot and potato and warmed us to the core.

That evening we were treated to wonderful Irish music at a different pub. The pub is where the locals meet their friends and chat and socialise. County Clare is a gorgeous spot and we feel we have merely glimpsed what is on offer. Tomorrow we will do more exploring.

Once and Dublin

Landing at Dublin airport was a bit like being on a luna park ride. We bounced up and down to shrieks from the children aboard the flight. On landing we could see the wind blowing the grass and realised it was blowing a gale outside. it was bleak, wet and cold and I realised I had told Ed the wrong time for our flight arrival. We were two hours earlier than anticipated. Why am I so good at making these mistakes?

Fortunately, Ed checked on our flight and realised he had been given the wrong time, so we didn't have to wait two hours. After a wonderful warm welcome, and a delicious soup for lunch we set out on a walk in the drizzle through a magnificent autumnal forest. It reminded me of the forest of Fontainbleau in France. We don't have anything like it in Australia.





I just love these autumnal colours - they are simply spectacular.

It has been wonderful catching up with such dear friends who we have known for ever. Keith and Jane went to uni together and spent hours talking together. Keith and Ed were at college together. Since arriving here we have talked and talked and talked. I am surprised we still have voices.

Last night we watched a wonderful movie together with Ed and Jane's two gorgeous girls called Once. A low budget film set in Dublin about a man and woman who enjoy making music together. Both have left relationships with scars. However, the film is mostly about the music they make together and the chemistry of their relationship. The music from the film won the Oscar for the best sound and deservedly. This is not a chick flick and has a refreshingly moral end. There is no "hanky panky" using the words of one of the main characters. It was a great introduction to Dublin which we visited today.

We started the day in glorious sunshine, so much so, that it never occurred to Keith or I to pack raincoats - not a good idea in Ireland! We caught the Dart into Dublin. The line follows the coast right up the coast - we had the most spectacular views north and south and the sky was blue and without clouds and the sea sparkled. On arrival to Dublin, the weather had changed and a cold wind blew, the sky turned black and it began to rain. And it was cold. The sort of day that I would snuggle up inside and sew or read a book - not explore a new city and sit on the top of a bus with an open top. However, the weather doesn't stop the Irish from doing anything.

We retreated to a cafe and waited for the weather to change. Jane assured us it would and sure enough it did. The rain vanished and the sun came out. But the cold remained. We did a tour on an open topped bus of Dublin and turned into iceblocks. Dublin is a delightful city - Georgian in style - most of the buildings are built of grey stone, and it is also the city of the doors. Each door is painted a different colour. It reminded me of the amish quilts that are bright vibrant in colour but the women all wear black. Dublin is a city of grey with splashes of vibrant colour. The result is quaint and unique.

We did some shopping in the afternoon and ran out of time to be tourists properly. We later found out it was a mere 4 degrees - perhaps explaining our reluctance to spend much time outside. We searched the shops for a woollen hat to keep my head warm.

We are about to watch the movie called Michael Collins who was a revolutionary in Ireland. We saw much today about this man and I am keen to learn more.

Tomorrow we are driving to the west coast of Ireland - Clare for a couple of nights. I am now prepared - with a new woolly cap and will wear all my winter woollies.

Glimpses of Paris

It is not possible to explore and experience Paris in two days, but Keith and I did our very best to fit in as much as we could. It is easy to understand why it is referred to as the "city of love" and is the setting for so many films. All our senses were awakened during our two days there and each experience contributed to a visit that was richly rewarding.

My friend Libby accompanied us into Paris and took us to our hotel where we deposited our luggage. Libby wanted to show me a fabric shop located close to the Notre Dame which unfortunately was closed. We had a coffee and then said our farewells - what a wonderful hostess she was.

What a perfect day for Paris - not a cloud in the sky. Our feet walked for miles as we explored from Notre Dame to Arc de Triumph and back - we enjoyed the parks and gardens - we sat in the warm sunshine and appreciated the warmth and sunlight.





Fancy coming across a tree house in the middle of Paris!

The Musee Orangerie is a small gallery but filled with Monet's and Renoir that we wanted to sit and gaze at for the rest of the day. We enjoyed Rodin's sculptures in his garden and house. The gardens were a peaceful place to sit and enjoy the soft light. It is easy to understand what the impressionists were trying to capture in their artwork - the light and soft dappled colour.



The sun sparkled on Rodin's statues - they are breathtakingly splendid in expressing passion and the beauty of the human body.



We visited the Musee de Cluny to see the Lady and the Unicorn which literally took my breath away. Each tapestry depicts a different sense, with the fifth devoted to desire. They are large in size and the stitches small and precise. Each tapestry includes the lady, the unicorn and a lion - the colours are rich and lavish. Again, we wanted to sit and appreciate their beauty and the incredible attention to detail. No picture can do justice to them - I bought a calendar, but they are a shadow of the real thing.

We reached our hotel at about nine pm exhausted. Our feet swollen with walking but exhilarated at the beauties contained in this unique city. Our hotel was close to Place d'Italy and a delightful suburb filled with restaurants, cafes and quiet streets and parks. It was an extremely comfortable place to stay and we even had a bath where we soaked our feet.

The metro and RER are an underground labyrinth. As one friend said to us, it is a wonder that Paris hasn't collapsed from the digging out of ground to make way for the trains. However, there are also the endless underground walking tunnels that connect lines to each other at different stations. You could spend so much time walking underground in these black tunnels - filled with people rushing, texting and speaking to each other. There are also a number of buskers who play - there was a harp playing Vivaldi - what a glorious sound to listen to moving from one platform to another. There are also the homeless who are sprawled throughout the tunnels - seeking refuge and there are also those who beg for money. We were constantly on our guard for pickpocketers, but unprepared for the con artists who appeared before us often, convincing us we had just dropped an 18 carot god ring on ground we had never walked on and then asking for money, and there were others asking for money to save their African country. We parted with ten euros, and are still not sure if we responded to a genuine request for money or were hoodwinked.

Once you have mastered the trains, it makes travelling around Paris easy and efficient. However, it is far more pleasant to walk above ground and enjoy the buildings, the gardens, the people, the bakeries and flower shops and the river.







We caught a train to Bastille and walked along a disused viaduct that has been transformed into a walkway with gardens passing through a french neighbourhood. It is possible to see the old Paris, the new and how they mix and combine together. There were no tourists here - just locals enjoying the sunshine and gardens - it was quiet and peaceful. We even came across a scarecrow!



At the end of the viaduct, we managed to get totally lost and had much trouble finding the metro to return to the city centre. We asked three people for directions - happily given, but we must have misunderstood, as it was not until our third attempt that we succeeded.

There was much more we managed to cram into our two days museums and gardens and we ate more bread and pastries than we ever had in our lives and enjoyed each mouthful.

On Saturday, we had an early start to catch a plane to Dublin. The sun was still shining and we were both sad to be leaving a place that we had enjoyed and appreciated - all of our senses had been awakened.

A day in the country in France

Our friends gave us a wonderfully warm welcome - it was great to meet someone who could speak English - I must admit we felt a little out of our comfort zone, particularly when we had to call our friends to collect us from the station and the phones would not accept coins or our credit card. We had to find a shop to find a phone card.

Our friends have just moved to this area just south of Paris and their house is lovely and a home away from home. My friend had just finished making a quilt that she had been working on in Sydney when I had last seen her in August - we had bought the fabric together and it looked spectacular in the room we were sleeping in. They are both incredibly artistic and their walls are covered with their artwork and creativity.

The children had the next day off school, so we all headed off with a picnic lunch and their puppy cocker spaniel Rocky for the country. We drove firstly to Babizon - a delightful village where many artists used to live and work and holiday - including Millet. It looks like it has changed little - very rustic and unpretentious. We went into Millet's studio - he had taught Van Gogh and his walls were covered with his art and the art of other artists.



We then bought fresh croissants from a local bakery and ate them contentedly walking down the main street. The autumn leaves are spectacular - ranging from yellows, to gold, crimson and rust. There are still leaves that are green - so the colours are captivating. The day was clearing into the day we began to have back at Heathrow.



We then loaded back into the nine seater van - four adults, four children and a dog -



and drove through the Forest de Fountainbleau - which is simply glorious towards Chateau Fontainbleau. We had our lunch there in the formal french gardens, with the sun warming our backs. The Chateau is an impressively large building and it is understandable why there was a revolution, realising that a few wealth families lived in style here while most of the population lived in abject poverty. We enjoyed the stillness in the air and the reflections on the water and the pair of white swans who flew majestically over us and landed onto the pond.





The detail on the buildings was exquisite:



After a lazy stroll, we again piled into the van and drove towards Chartres - a beautiful town with a large cathedral.


It took over an hour to get there and we drove through beautiful countryside and saw a flock of deer scampering across the fields. We arrived late afternoon - we could see the spires of the cathedral for miles before arriving. We managed to park and walk up the hill to explore the cathedral. Keith and I had a quick look inside while the children ate ice creams. As the sun was beginning to sink, we explored the town and enjoyed its beauty - the houses, quirky narrow streets and little streams that we passed - the colours were golden and soft.





What tickled our fancy was this display for the recent World Youth Day that took place in Sydney in July:

Paris - finally

After a very early start and arriving at Heathrow to a day filled with bright sunlight and anticipation, our plane was delayed by two hours. At least it was not Tashkent airport, and we were able to sit in sunlight and read and write drinking cups of coffee and tea. It was pouring with rain on our arrival. We decided to buy bagettes for a quick bite to eat before attempting the RER into Paris. Even the bread tastes delicious at the airport! It was the best ham and cheese bagette I have ever tasted.

The train trip was memorable for two things - the crowds and managing with our luggage, and listening to the passengers chat to each other. I sat with two business men who chatted non stop for the entire trip. We managed to change lines and emerged above ground at Les Pyramids, to collect train tickets and museum passes, before walking across La Seine to the Blue RER line to travel out to our friends home. Despite the rain, we were excited to finally arrive in this "city of love".

York Part 2

This morning we headed back into York where we parked easily and found our way into the walled part of the city. Cathedrals have this irresistable urge and this one pulled us towards it. We just had to go inside and explore. The tower to this one was open. Keith is a mountain goat and needs to climb to the top of anything that can be climbed. It was 275 steps up - around and around and it got narrower and narrower. If I were a true woman of traditional build, I would not have fitted and would have been stuck, just like Winne the Pooh who had to stay there until he grew a little thinner.

The climb was worth it - the view was glorious. Blue skies and a howling wind. We could see gardens, remnants of the wall, bits of the castle, houses and the industrial cities that lie south and west.



The Cathedral, again, carries many stories in its walls and plaques. There was the young minister's wife, Mary, who was travelling north to recover her health who died aged 22.



After our exploring of the Cathedral, we walked to the wall, and walked around about one third of the city's circumference. We were reminded that this is a "working city" as the first tower had a few homeless men, seeking shelter from the wind and rain, drinking their beer. The wall was amazing to walk around and imagine it standing and protecting this city for almost two thousand years is incredible.



This is a photo of one of the gates to enter the city of York.



I loved peeking through this window in one of the turrets while climbing down from the wall - I could see a toy shop with a model train set on display. I couldn't get over the changes that have taken place in this place over the centuries.

After our lunch, we needed to get going, as we had to drive down to Heathrow for the night. The drive down the M1 was wet and gloomy. We are now getting ourselves organised for our four days in Paris - I can't quite believe this is really happening!

Durham

Our love hate relationship continued with the GPS system. I have decided that I much prefer a good map and use my own judgment. We drove up the A1 as fast as legally permissible to meet Jess and Byron at a particular corner on Saddler Street. I had no map of Durham, again, not a wise thing for a tourist, I had looked at a google map, but when faced with the streets and the city, confusion reigned. We were late for our meeting and were beginning to stress.

We found a place to park, found a public library who gave us a map and good directions and ran. Jess and Byron had actually rung Michael to get our mobile phone numbers - it would have been 11.30 pm but they figured he would probably be awake. It was lovely to see them and we had a wonderful time with them.

After a sandwich lunch, we headed to the top of the hill for the Cathedral. Jess and Byron had spent the previous day and night on Lindisfarne Island and had learnt all about St Cuthbert who had been a bishop of northern England in the 1100s, and had travelled extensively evangelising. On his death, he had been buried at Lindisfarne, but ten years later, his coffin had been raised. It was discovered that his body was still intact, thus beginning the process to make him a saint. It could have been the cold that kept his body from decaying - who knows, but it was fascinating to find out about him and the history of this area after his death.

St Cuthbert is now buried at Durham Cathedral. It again is a massive building, dominating the landscape. It stands next door to the Castle. This castle had been built at the time of William the Conquerer, to protect his northern lands. It has been a "working" castle ever since - either with soldiers, princes or prince bishops residing. Today it houses university students and the university. It is in constant use 24/7. This part of the city is almost on an island as the river curves around it on three sides. Sadly, no photos. After browsing the cathedral and a fascinating exhibition of historical items relating to the history of St Cuthbert, we did a tour of the castle. The kitchen has remained in the same place and the original fireplaces still exist. The original kitchen bench stands in another part of the castle - a magnificent piece of wood, with many memories on its surfaces - if only they could speak!

The most senior students are privileged to live in a certain part of the castle. They are without running water or bathroom - meaning they have to go down a very narrow flight of stairs to a nearby bathroom. All the students must robe for dinner every night and are fined if they get up during the meal, if their phone rings or they don't follow protocol and the fines are fairly hefty. They also have a 10 pm curfew and the gates are locked. There is a tiny door in the large door and latecomers need to crawl through this. Imagine this happening at Moore College!

We had an afternoon immersed in history and each of us were engrossed and enthralled. After a welcome cup of tea and hot chocolate, we said good bye and went our separate ways. What a wonderful way to spend an afternoon with friends who we won't see again for three years.

Fountains Abbey

I had never heard of the Fountain's Abbey. We went there, as we had no intention of returning to York until Monday, and wanted to fill the morning before heading up to Durham - a mere hour and a half up the A1 to meet Jess and Byron for lunch. Our morning exploring this exquisite place is indescribable. This Abbey started to be built in the seventh century. However, it was founded properly in 1132 under the Cistercian Order. The abbey's name comes from Bernard of Clairvaux or St Bernard de Fontaines. Richard Baxter and John Calvin both quoted Bernard of Clarivaux, so Keith was familiar with this man.



In 1538 or 1538, Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries, which impacted this Abbey. The roof was removed and the abbey was abandoned to the elements. Only the ruins remain. They stand beside a river, in a valley surrounded by woods. It is secluded, quiet and seems a perfect place for a retreat from the world. It was a place where the monks spent their days in a rigorous regime of meditation, work, and prayer. They cared for the poor and needy. At some state, Anne Boleyn must have spent time here, as there is a lookout where she used to walk and sit. We went there and it is easy to understand why she chose to have a seat here.

It is autumn, so the trees are yellow and golden and a deep crimson. The colours were spectacular. After looking around the ruins of this enormous abbey, we did a long walk through the grounds, through forests with views. We saw squirrels, birds and enjoyed the peace and tranquility of this place of beauty. There is a tunnel that we walked through and I wondered if we would emerge - it was quite long and were in pitch dark for a time.

This was the time when the worst thing that can happen for a tourist happened with no warning. My camera battery died and I didn't have a spare one. Keith had gently suggested we get one weeks ago, but I had said there was no need. I am not sure who was angrier, but it made me cherish each moment to my memory. I also bought postcards at the shop.

We could have spent an entire day there, not a mere morning and then have a long drive up to Durham. I am determined to return one day for a full day and with a camera that has a charged battery! If you are interested in seeing more pictures, you can visit their website: http://www.fountainsabbey.org.uk/ Interestingly, it is a world heritage site and I can understand why.