The Cotswolds are so still you almost check behind your back for fairies watching you. And then add the thatched roofs and you have no doubt they're there. I mean. And after our day in the gardens, we had a Secret Cottage Tour booked. I really didn't know what to expect, but was most excited about peaking under those thick mats of thatched roofs. More on that soon. Our day started in Moreton-in-Marsh, where our tour leader Charlotte picked us up in a Landrover and then we were off through vale…
Eight years later, and I still feel with mirror precision the peace and quiet of sitting on an old bench by the shallow stream that barely moved through the center of Bourton-on-the-Water when my dad and I visited. (Side note: He was dropping me off at grad school in Scotland. 8 years ago!) You could see straight to the silty bottom of the foot-deep stream, inviting ankles. We would've gone nearly anywhere, but how lucky that our friends decided to marry in the heart of this lovely place? After…
I worry that this blog sometimes slides into a pool of nostalgia. This is mainly because my life already has so many highlights that I can always be nostalgic for lovely places we have lived. So to avoid that as we approach a place that holds some of our beautiful past, let me just get it out of the way: London always shocks me with its beauty, and we loved waving at all the places that once enamored us when we were first enamored of each other. We arrived jet-lagged into the thick of London's …
We stepped off the train into a quiet King's Cross station Wednesday night, and made our way on the underground to our hotel. Every underground you get off, you hear the same caution: Please mind the gap between the train and the platform. We woke up to London weather. Drizzle. Fine drizzle. Fat drops. Wet air. Hazy sky. and, then, finally the clear of the evening. Walker bought an umbrella under guise of keeping the camera dry. Umbrellas are his small luxury. Being back here is delightful, fami…
I'm not going to pretend I didn't get antsy on the train yesterday, my legs yelling at me to stretch them out, and my belly wishing for some real sustenance. But, Walker and I have solidly concluded: trains are the best form of transportation known to man. You step on and step off feeling human. More than likely, you'll get gorgeous sunsets, the light illuminating both the green of the fields and the streaks of the sky. We rolled through neon yellow fields, along the rocky cliffs of northern Eng…
Here we are in lovely London, and our days go something like this: stroll in the park, scone at a cafe, back to the park. Walk through Leichester Square, window shop in Covent Garden, and walk past and then simultaneously backtrack and look into bookshelf-walled libraries. It's a fantastic place. London is classy; you practically have to dress up to take the Underground, in which you are greeted by civility and decorum by the trademark "Please mind the gap between the train and the platform". …