Crepes

When I went to search for my recipe in my blog, like I usually do for recipes that are particularly good that I know I must have shared them, I could not find the crepes. How could I not have posted this recipe here? For a while there, I was making them all the time, they are so simple to make, it’s ridiculous. Since I had been making them so often I didn’t need to follow the recipe, I just knew it. This morning, however, I needed to follow the recipe. It’s been months since I’ve made them. Just as with any favored recipe, the frequency of its use waxes and wanes.

This recipe come together almost instantly, in a blender, there’s no need to have the batter rest or any of that business. And as for the old adage that the first couple of crepes cooked are crap, well, to that adage I say, that’s crap. Every single crepe turns out perfectly.

While I was tending to the crepes, Mark, my sous-chef, worked on preparing the fillings, grating mature cheddar, cooking up back bacon rounds (Canadian bacon in the U.S.), slicing the gorgeous strawberries and cleaning up the blueberries (to have with Greek yogurt and honey as filling) . I also whipped up a bechamel sauce for our savory crepes as well.

This recipe makes about 16 crepes.

3 large eggs
1 1/2 cups milk (whole or semi-skimmed)
1/2 cup water
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
3 Tbs sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
5 Tbs melted butter, plus extra for brushing pan

Place all ingredients into a blender and blend until batter is smooth (about 10-15 seconds).

Using a pastry brush (I’m a fan of the silicone pastry brush for this) brush bottom and sides of 9 or 10-inch nonstick skillet very lightly with melted butter; heat skillet over medium heat. When butter stops sizzling, pour 1/4 cup batter into pan in a steady stream. While pouring the batter in a stream, you want to be rotating and twirling the pan slowly counterclockwise until pan bottom is covered with even layer of batter. Cook until crêpe starts to lose opaqueness and turns spotty light golden brown on bottom, loosening crepe from side of pan with rubber spatula, 30 seconds to 1 minute. To flip the crepe, loosen edge with rubber spatula and, with fingertips on top side, slide spatula under the crepe and flip. Cook until dry on second side, about 20 seconds.

For our savory crepes, I placed a crepe back in the warm skillet, sprinkled some cheese and some thinly sliced back bacon, allowed the cheese to melt, transferred to the plate and topped with bechamel, green onions and cracked black pepper.

The bechamel you ask? Another recipe I just know and do, but, it’s about 2 Tbs of butter, melted until bubbling, add 1 Tbs. flour and whisk together for a couple minutes to cook the flour (making a simple rue). Once flour has cooked, pour in a little milk at a time of a total of 1/2 cup, whisking all the while. It will get extremely thick and a bit lumpy at first, keep adding milk and whisking until desired consistency. The sauce is finished when once it has come up to a simmer again and is smooth and creamy.

Why I Love My Husband Reason #1277

On Friday I get a cryptic text message from Mark, “I have a present for you! Here’s a hint, it’s 12″ x 18″ x 84″ and about 100 lbs.” I had absolutely no idea what it could be. It was a gorgeous day, he asked that I stop at the local grocer for some supplies so we could grill out. Baguette, brie, courgettes, mushrooms and some Jacques cider in hand I headed off down the wooded footpath toward home. Little did I know it was a ruse to try to buy some time. I decided to just head for the backyard rather than going for the front door. I was shocked to find Mark assembling a hammock!

I had mentioned in passing how nice it would be to have a hammock in our yard, a place to lay down and relax in the sun comfortably. He’s so thoughtful all of the time, but this was an extra special bit of thoughtfulness. It’s big enough for both of us to fit with room to spare. Friday night, we brought out a couple of blankets and cuddled up under the stars and even fell asleep out there. How very sweet. It has been used quite a lot this weekend, it’s been gorgeous, one might even say it’s been summer like (finally!). Here I am enjoying the hammock and another recent find. An orange ice lolly. The ingredients? Orange juice and sugar. That’s it. Cold, juicy and refreshing.

Pod People, Pod People…

I feel as if I’m in a the setting of some science fiction story. On the train in and in the streets, every one is walking around with these identical white ear pieces. As if it’s a part of some nefarious plot to control the humans. At some point all of these people will turn on the rest of us with the flick of a switch (sounds like an episode of Doctor Who actually). Yes, you know what I’m talking about. I have a pair of the best sort of ear bud technology, only, they don’t seem to want to stay in my ears, no matter how I position them, they also start to hurt after a while. So I decided to give the pair provided with the phone a try.

I never noticed before just how many people are wearing them out there. Only now, I’m one of them. I’m one of the Pod People, with my white ear bud head phones.

England: Dorset, Bloody-Nose Beetle

Timarcha tenebricosa

A lumbering, flightless leaf beetle, often seen plodding across paths or through grass. In this case, he was fighting against the stiff breeze on the top of a cliff on the Jurassic Coast at Lulworth Cove. When disturbed, these beetles exude a drop of bright red, blood-like fluid from their mouth. I must not have disturbed him, he didn’t spew any goo at me. This photo doesn’t capture the color very well, but the elytra had a metallic purple sheen too it.

After Lulworth Cove, we drove to Durdle Door, a natural limestone arch on the Dorset coast.

After Lulworth Cove, we drove to Durdle Door, a natural limestone arch on the Dorset coast. This coast line is riddled with interesting geology and features. If you can imagine a layer cake with three cake layers turned on it’s side: a layer of vanilla, a layer of chocolate and a layer of carrot cakes, you can imagine what this coast looks like geologically. The layers of rock have been uplifted and tilted, revealing interesting patterns in the strata, eroding differentially making these coves and arches.

We sat on the pebbly beach and dipped our feet in the cold cold water. Mark was significantly braver than me and went for a swim. Just to say he swam through Durdle Door. Mark remarked on the fact that we knew we were going to the coast, to the beach, and at no point did we even consider bringing swimsuits or towels. I was bundled up in a sweater. It was a gorgeous sunny day, no doubt, but the stiff breeze was chilly.

There is so much more to explore on the southern coast, we’ll need to make another trip, or a longer trip

Traffic Court in England

Out of all the outcomes that we had been hypothesizing about, none of them came close to how it was all resolved. It was over an incident that had occurred months ago and things went all pear shaped. Basically, it all boiled down to paperwork that allegedly was never filled out, not even about the original speed camera traffic offense.

The summons was for a court appearance at 1:45 in the afternoon, in Fleetwood, just north of Blackpool. We set out early. We worried we would lose too much time so we didn’t stop for lunch, nor did we even put the top up on the car for the last thirty miles or so of driving in the rain. “Those few minutes could cost us!” we thought.

We arrived early, having been advised to ask to speak to a duty solicitor for advice, as they are legally obligated to provide council. However, this apparently does not apply to traffic violations. It was 1:30. Once there, the guards told us they don’t get started until 2:00! There was one other individual there, he said his summons was for 1:30. We then thought we would be the second case heard that afternoon. “No worries!” we thought, “we’ll be in and out and off for some lunch!” We thought wrong.

More people arrived, not many, but more arrived. All a bunch of locals, people in torn blue jeans. An announcement was made over the speaker, the local accent is something else, I couldn’t understand what was said. Apparently it was someone’s name being called and they recognized the language being spoken and entered the courtroom. One after another of these other people were called over the loud speaker and seen.

Remember, we didn’t stop for lunch because we thought we were going to be late. I was beyond hungry at this point, and if you know me, I get all squirrelly, shaky and easily upset to tears over the simplest things when I’m that hungry. “If one more person is called, I’m going to look for something as a snack,” Mark assured me, he was getting super hungry too. That was 3:30. Mark brought back some candy bars, it just made us more hungry but at least gave us both a boost to our blood sugar.

It was becoming clear we were going to be the last case heard that day. Good thing we rushed to drive four hours to Blackpool for this! Finally, just before 4:00, I was called in.

Mark had been peppering me with all sorts of questions, thinking if he were in this situation, what sorts of questions would he expect to be asked, and then some. Making sure I was prepared and wouldn’t sound flustered. I was all set to go in. I was walking into a courtroom on my own, Mark, as my witness, was to sit outside until called.

There I was in front of three magistrates (the “judges”), one solicitor there to advise the magistrates and the prosecuting solicitor. They prosecuting solicitor read aloud the charges and evidence. He then brought up the fact that my last name and my husband’s last name was misspelled in several different ways on various documents. This was enough cause for the case to be dismissed. All this was over in two minutes.

It was then noted that I was from the South, from Buckinghamshire, that I had come along way for this. I was asked to bring Mark in, where they asked about the exact distance we were from home and how much we spent on petrol to get there. They then awarded me £75 to cover the cost of petrol and apologized that they could not cover costs for missing a day at work.

And that was it. We were a bit beside ourselves as we made our way to a local cafe. We both ordered full English breakfasts that were served all day (read: huge piles of protein that we both desperately needed). In a haze of disbelief, we tucked in.

On British Television

I really enjoyed watching the Dr. Who season finale, it wasn’t disappointing. Following it up with always watching “Dr. Who Confidential” I love seeing just how proud every one who is involved in the show are of the work they do. It is interesting to see how many connections are made and threads kept with the original series. Watching it in tandem with the main series illustrates the richness and depth of the storytelling, revealing details I would be hard pressed to remember.

I have fond memories of the original series. I watched so many of the old Dr.’s with my brother Joe, who was obsessed with the show which aired on PBS and Nickelodeon, when we were young. I remember they were often aired on Saturday’s, a day when my mom would use this crazy floor scrubber to mop the dining room floor. The dining room table would be moved into the living room and my brother and I would watch the show. It is possible one or two of my other brothers would be there, but I so strongly associate these memories with Joe. I also strongly associate a lemony floor cleaner scent with it too.

I have no desire to go back and re-watch any of the older series, I fear it would render these rose-colored fond memories into something else. Yes, the kitschiness is a part of the Doctor Who lore and ingrained in British culture. “Kitsch” isn’t quite the right word to express it, but I just don’t think I could bring myself to sit through those original episodes.

The point I’m trying to make is, I love that there are British television shows that I (we) will always associate with living in England. They will be memory triggers for us. Including the Doctor. Especially the Doctor.

Happy Fourth of July!

Well, for the second year in a row, Mark and I will not be at my family picnic. This year will mark 35 years of this tradition, held at my aunt (my dad’s sister) and uncle’s home. We’re probably missing out on the matching t-shirts that have been printed up every five years! It is the biggest holiday in my family, practically a mini family reunion where, for some family members, this is the only time during the year that we see each other.

It is an all day affair, it always involves obscene amounts of grilled and prepared foods and desserts. There are always fierce volleyball games, rain or shine, some years everyone is covered in mud from head to toe. There is always a large bonfire in the evening, everyone crowds around chatting, roasting marshmallows and being pyromaniacs. There is always a new crop of children fascinated with collecting lightening bugs and setting off fireworks. Collages of photos are every where from previous years, those who have passed still grace our presence with their smiles all over the walls. There is always hours of catching up and reminiscing, sharing of photos and joys and sorrows, meeting new friends and greeting the newest additions to the extended family. Most years there are well over 50 people there.

I can say this is my favorite family holiday. I love the tradition of it. Today, Mark and I are taking a holiday for ourselves, we will be there in spirit and will be thinking of everyone today. We will cook out, I plan to make my Asian Pasta Salad with the innovation of adding soy beans, and we have plenty of beer and cider to occupy ourselves with. We need to go find some fireworks somewhere. If we had been more organized or knew the weather would be so nice, we would have planned to invite some folks over. But this way, we can stay in our pajamas all day, and that’s a fantastic way to spend the day

My Life With Bugs

I realized that I’ve been asked quite a bit about my job recently and have sent out many an email explaining what it is I actually do, that this would make an excellent post. I often feel I get the strangest reactions to this, I do have an odd job.

I am knackered. With just a few weeks of my working full time under my belt, I’m starting to get used to the commute. It is rough though. I’ll be able to last, I think, to the end of the year doing this…

I am excited about the new job though, it’s going to be a lot more challenging than what I was doing. In recent weeks I’ve been training someone new as a preparator. It really is an art pinning and pointing insects for a collection. It takes patience and a good eye. We recently had an open house with heaps of artistically arranged spectacular collections on display. That is all well and good to ogle and “Ooooh!” and “Aaaaah!” at. However, in active scientific collections used for research, specimens need to be prepared in a way that helps best preserve and conserve them. It’s an art, but with a practical side to it. I’ll still be involved in the insect preparation on the side.

The rest of my time, I’ll be involved with curation activities. I’ll be in charge of getting beetles that have been “accessioned” by the museum, which are housed separately and are unorganized, and putting them in order. These are collections of beetles that have either been donated, are from staff field work, or from research projects that haven’t been integrated into the main collection. I’m a generalist. I’ll be making sense of them and getting them into the main collection so that they are somewhere accessible where they can be identified, used and studied by the experts.

Museum collections, whether it’s bugs, plants or dinosaur bones, are like libraries. If the books are not where they’re supposed to be, organized in a rational manner, no one can find them to read them and get information from them. The characters used to identify the family, genus and species are chapters, pages and individual words in these books. So, basically, I’ll be cleaning up old stacks of beetles (identifying to family, etc.) and putting them where they belong in the drawers in the right order (curation) or putting certain groups in front of the eyes of specialists. It’s a much more challenging job than it sounds, I’ll be learning quite a lot about beetles in the process (as most of my training is in lepidoptera).

The commute is going to be rough, but I’m excited about the work. It’s all about the right trade offs. I feel they have been working so hard to get me hired full time, it’s hard to say no to the job, I’m really quite flattered. And it’s set for 6-9 months, depending if we’re here beyond the end of the year. They know about our situation and are being very accommodating with my contract.

And paid time off! This is such a novel idea for me! I have a pile of days of pto (if it were a one year contract I would *start* with 27 pto days). All those years of working at my former position, I never had any sort of benefits. I am almost beside myself with the idea This example really driving home the stereotype of stingy benefits for Americans in the US. In fact, this coming Friday I’ll be taking off for a holiday, it feels so strange. I wonder how many of my coworkers will get it.

Lightning Strikes Twice!

Our neighbor’s tree back home was struck by lightning AGAIN, and the enormous branch off the sixty year old oak tree missed hitting our house AGAIN! We are very lucky our house wasn’t damaged in either incident:

Happy National Insect Week!

It’s National Insect Week in the UK this week. For our part, there will be an open house on Thursday and Friday afternoon from 12:30-4:30. Come see what entomologists at the Natural History Museum are up to and do. I’ll be there preparing crowd pleasing large and colorful beetles, talking about preparation, the importance of well prepared specimens in active scientific collections to preserve and conserve the condition of the specimens as best as possible and the exciting world of field work.

Happy National Insect Week everybody!

Happy Solstice!

Here it is, the longest day of the year, getting 18 hours and 13 minutes of daylight. Note that I said daylight and not sunlight, it is so dark and gloomy outside today. It would be one thing if was actually raining. That would be nice, it’s a warm-ish day out, my windows are open, I would love to sit and listen to the rain as my soundtrack and smell that rain cleansed scent the air gets during and after a good rain. It has that strange hue outside, that if I were back home this would signal a major thundering storm about to start. No, not here. It was briefly misting. It’s just so dark out on the longest day

* Le Sigh *

My first week as a curator is finished. I. Love. My. Job. I feel like I don’t have enough hours in the day to get all that I want to get done, done (but want to leave at a reasonable time so I actually get home at a reasonable time with the long commute). This commute is going to be very hard, it is incredibly draining to spend that much of my day on trains and the underground. I’m completely knackered by the time I get home and have usually fallen asleep on the train. One of these days I’m going to wake up in Oxford or beyond

All I want to do right now is go out and celebrate, have a drink and share this good feeling with friends. Mark is in Germany (until 2am Sunday) and I’m far away from everyone I know (both UK and US friends). Because of this, for the first time in a long time, I’m a little homesick and really missing people.

I’m not going to drink alone, but I might cook up some Eggs Benedict for dinner as my own little celebration.

Adventures In Commuting, the continuing saga

Now that I’m working full time, I must report, that although I don’t care for getting up so early, the commute is moderately better. By taking trains during peak hours, they are more frequent and marginally faster. I have a couple of time options of taking a train that goes directly from my village station straight into London. Not needing to change trains at Maidenhead leaves the potential of missing my connecting train out of the equation. Now to find the right balance, the “core hours” are easy enough, where I need to be at work between ten a.m. and four p.m., the rest of the hours to be pieced in as I see fit. This week has been this strategy: go in earlier so I can leave in time to catch that ideal evening train. So far it is working out beautifully, but a morning person I am not, and certainly not a very early person. At least the sun is up at 4:30 and sets around 10, I don’t feel as if I’m losing too much valuable daylight. I may be singing a different tune come autumn and winter though

Talk About the Weather

Pictured left is a snapshot of this week’s forecast. In Pittsburgh, when you start having those warm spring days in the upper 50’s or low 60’s, everyone is outside in shorts and tank tops. Those days seem down right balmy compared to the sub-zero freezing winter temperatures. It’s the contrast that makes it so nice. I was thinking about this the other morning at the tube station. It was a sunny 60 degree day. But there I was, and everyone else around me, bundled up in sweaters. I was glad I had my wool socks on to keep my toes warm. As chilly as it feels, I still have the windows open to fill the house with fresh air.

This is June, all I’ve been hearing from the folks back home is how unbearably hot and sticky it has been. I almost can’t imagine it, I’m a native Pittsburgher, the very fiber of my being is telling me it should be getting uncomfortably hot right now. I see the blue skies and sunshine outside with its promise of warmth, and yet, I’m curled up under blankets and drinking hot chocolate or tea. I wanted to turn on the heat again and we still sleep with a down comforter. (We would sleep with a down comforter year round back home too, but we had Air Conditioning).

It’s amazing how quickly one acclimates to a new climate. On a daily basis there is little fluctuation between the high and low temperatures. It’s similar on the yearly scale, it’s just so mild here. If I had just emerged from the frozen depths of a Pittsburgh winter, I would be reveling in this weather, I would be wishing for this weather all year round it’s just that perfect.

We also recently had a couple days in the low 70’s, all I could think is how hot it seemed. I’m not complaining. It’s just funny how my perception of temperature has changed.

You Don’t Hear *That* Everyday!

I was hearing the most amazing announcements on the underground today. Several lines, including the Circle line, were effected, having delays or portions of travel canceled. But trains had interrupted service due to “an unexploded WWII bomb!”

Coworkers inform me this happens one or two times a year. Usually they are found in someone’s garden. This one in Bromley-by-Bow is the largest one they’ve found since the 1970’s. Apparently it was making ticking and fizzing sounds during the removal and defusing process. Of course, service will still be disrupted tomorrow morning. This is something that Americans have a hard time imagining. So many bombs were dropped here and a significant proportion never went off.

Very strange experience from my perspective, certainly.

Tickets? Almost… not quite

I’ve been on the prowl for sold out tickets to the Royal Shakespeare Company’s production of Hamlet this year. It sold out almost instantaneously. With David Tennant in the lead role of Hamlet and Patrick Stewart as Claudius, it’s a show I really want to see. I had my eye on 3 tickets on Ebay that had very low traffic and few bids due to a misspelling. I thought I almost had a chance of snagging/sniping them for a reasonable price. No such luck. Tickets that were sold for £30 are going for hundreds of £’s. These three £15 tickets ended up selling for £210! This is insane people!

I am determined to see this show. I will find tickets. Or if you or someone you know has tickets or knows someone with tickets, send them a good word in my favor, eh?

Goodwood Supercar Breakfast

Sunday morning in England, now that’s something I’ve personally never seen. We woke up insanely early and hopped in our blue Lotus and drove to the Goodwood Supercar Breakfast. Even Mark nearly talked himself out of not going because it was just so early! But who could resist the lure of bacon rolls, coffee and Supercars? I didn’t know what to expect at all. Once there we were directed to park in the “themed cars” parking, while the ordinary folk were shepherded elsewhere. We’re at a race track, were there going to be races or was this just a lookie-loo? Turns out to be a lookie-loo on a large scale. Mark was in car-guy-heaven. There was a moment when he actually gasped at the sight of an Alfa Romeo 8C (there were actually two of them there which is what really surprised him).

The highlight for me? The SmartCar slash coffee maker! Oh how I *heart* SmartCars! My only comment from this experience, clearly the *next* supercar we purchase needs to be orange.

Lucanus cervus - Stag Beetle

a.k.a. our evening’s entertainment. This stag beetle is the U.K.’s largest beetle, Lucanus cervus. Apparently, these beetles are rare outside the Thames valley and populations have declined or are extinct beyond southern England. Fortunately, we live in the Thames valley and the males have been buzzing through the air tonight like miniature helicopters in numbers. The larva spend four years feeding in rotting wood, when they emerge as adults, they live for a few months simply to reproduce.

I nearly stepped on a female who was casually hanging out on our gravel walkway. What a perfect subject for a little macro photography. She is a photogenic beetle. Shortly thereafter we caught a male that flew close enough to the ground to capture. We kept seeing them silhouetted against the pale lit dusk sky up near the tree limbs and leaves.

Once inside and with my expert beetle wrangling and Mark’s lighting idea, we had plenty to amuse ourselves. We improvised a soft light box with a laundry basket and a white sheet. We photographed them individually and then brought the two love birds, er, love beetles together. Only in this house would this constitute a fun Saturday night, capturing and photographing insects!

The Complete Photo Set

Admin: Flurry of Posts

I am going to be posting furiously over the next couple of days to get on top of my posts.   I generally don’t like to make posts without their corresponding photos.   I think they make the entries a little more dynamic, along with the links to places we’ve been and other information.  But we are months behind on getting shots on Flickr and so, the text will flow in the form of back dated entries (some from as far back as March from my family visiting).  I’ll slot in the photos later.

/admin

Dueling Cakes… Yellow Cake.

I’ll see your chocolate cake dear friend and raise you one home made yellow cake with fudgy icing.  I may not be in labour and baking bread and playing DDR while baking my cake, but man, after all that talk I really want some cake.

This particular cake is super moist and so much better than any boxed cake mix.  I’ve halved this recipe for just a single pan of cake, otherwise, I will eat all of this cake, and if there is only half of it at once.  Well, then, I just eat all of half a cake

Your Basic Super Moist Yellow Cake:

1 cup butter, softened
1 2/3 cups white sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
3 cups sifted flour
2 1/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/3 cups milk

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Prepare 2 - 9 inch cake pans with baking spray.

With a mixer, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.  The longer the better ~5-10 minutes.  Beat in the eggs one at a time, then stir in the vanilla.  Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt. Beat in the flour mixture alternately with the milk, mixing just until incorporated. Pour batter into prepared pans saving the mixer’s beaters and bowl for your husband to lick clean.

Bake for 40-45 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Let cool in pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack to cool completely.  Ice with your favorite icing.

Mine is in the oven right now!  Yum!

England: Duxford Imperial War Museum

And now for something completely different. Suzanne’s husband made the suggestion for today’s adventure. It’s a place he remembers fondly visiting in his youth, the Duxford Imperial War Museum. I honestly never would have thought to look for a place like this, but I was impressed.

There were huge hangars full of displays of airplanes. One for British aircraft and one for American.  Once inside, some part of me did not find the heavy cables suspending some of these enormous crafts from the ceiling terribly confidence inspiring.  And my first thought standing at eye level with the helicopter blades went something like this, “if that helicopter were to start up for no apparent reason right now, we would lose our heads.” Just to give a glimpse into the inner workings of my brain.

One of the first Concorde’s was open for visitor’s to walk through, so I can officially say I’ve been on the Concorde. I also found it a bit disconcerting to be allowed to walk under and so close to the planes. How strange to be poking my head into these nooks, inches from engines, when my life’s experience with aircraft has kept these areas verboten.

Entering the doors to another hangar, the strong smells of solvents, oil and paint waft over you. There were three or four hangars dedicated to the restoration of planes. The signs reading, “Please do not disturb the engineers more than necessary” as I’m sure they get riddled with questions about the plane they are working on, what they are doing or about the tools and equipment they are surrounded by. Can someone tell me why so many aircraft are painted bright yellow?

Even the very last hangar, which was at the end of a mile long row of hangars, that contained the land combat vehicles was fascinating. The place was packed with vehicles. It was the kind of exhibit that reminded me of the more old school museum exhibits where there are huge numbers of actual specimens to look at. There were no flashing screens or buttons to push. Just specimens. These just happened to be combat vehicles arranged in chronological order and by what war. Each made to look like the setting they were used in. Pale golden sand spread beneath the similarly golden paint for Northern African vehicles; Jungle scenes and mud for Pacific conflicts. The “Normandy Experience” was a bit much though.

The Journey Is The Destination

We are back from the epic road trip that involved the Lake District, the Scottish Highlands and the Isle of Skye.  Much to write about, many photos to share, you know the drill, it’s a backlog here when we’re busy experiencing life.

What a long day of driving, but, we were in Scotland this morning!

Scotland: Stirling and The Long Drive Home

We were in Scotland this morning! How weird is that? We had one last lovely drive through the Highlands. It was raining when we left Glencoe, but it quickly let up. It was surprising as we were driving out how quickly the mountains were gone. We were taking them for granted I think. We missed them when they were gone from our sight.

We met up in Stirling at Stirling Castle. We didn’t take the tour, just walked around the grounds and tried to get as far away from the group of annoying tourists. They were a group from the US who were singing religious songs at the top of their lungs clad in fluorescent yellow ponchos. The streets of Stirling leading up to the castle are idyllic. Cobble stone streets, many of the buildings built with similar dark colored stones. The castle in the center of the town rose high above on a rocky crag. Those cobbled streets wound in narrow switch backs to reach the top.

From here, we worked out a strategy for getting home. The plan, to drive through Northumberland National Park. We left the relative plateau of the lowlands and entered the rolling hills of Northumberland and large swaths of forests. Since we would be driving parallel to it for some time, perhaps a stop at Hadrian’s wall would be in order. We’ve been to Hadrian’s Arch in Athens, might as well cap it with a stop at the wall. It turned into a fly by of Hadrian’s Wall. If we had more time, I would have loved to hike along the suggested trails. But the long day of driving, after several long days of driving, I just wanted to get home. Perhaps there will be a next time and more time.

Two miles before we reached a service station, we needed to pull off to the side of the motorway to put the soft top back on. The skies were looking incredibly threatening. It would be the first time we needed the top on for the entire trip! Eventually this proved a good strategy, but the rain did hold off for quite a while. We ended up meeting our traveling companions part way at that service stop, completely randomly. We thought we would be way ahead of them. They were getting ready to hit the road just as we were pulling in the lot. We took our time leaving, doing things like rainx-ing the window, getting fuel. They had a least a half hour head start on us.

We entertained ourselves on this last stretch by texting our positions along the way. “We are looking for you! Where are you?” I imagined this is a sing song Bugs Bunny accent, but I doubt that’s how in translated in the text. Mile markers were counting down, they were in slow traffic and as luck would have it, they needed to make a pit stop to refuel. “We may catch up to them yet!” as I joked about our refueling stop strategy as if we were in an F1 race. Despite a 40 mile headstart we made it home seconds after they reached our house. Ha ha!

Scotland: Highlands and Isle of Skye

What was intended to not be a day of driving turned into yet another day of driving.  We weighed our options and decided on heading out separately.  We would meet up at Eilean Donan Castle, regroup and make for the Isle of Skye.  On which we would drive a circular circuit going clockwise.

The drive to Eilean Donan was, again, incredibly lovely, through the Scottish highlands.  We drove right by Ben Nevis, at 4,409 feet it is the highest peak in the U.K.   The surrounding rocky range piercing the skyline.  The twisty roads are so well suited for a zippy sporty convertible.  I have to repeat the phrase that while driving through such an amazing landscape, the journey really is the destination.

Eilean Donan Castle was interesting, it stands on an island where three lochs meet.  The site has been occupied for 1500 years or so with the first fortified building erected in 13th century.  It has a long and colorful history and is the seat of the clan MacCrae.  It wasn’t the best castle we’ve visited, but there were certainly details of it that I loved.  All the built in window seats overlooking the mountains and water.  Each room had it’s own little fireplace.  And there were just so many little nooks and crannies to explore.

What I found most interesting was that as you walked through the rooms, with all the family photos on the walls and sitting on furniture, you really felt like you were in someone’s home.  Suzanne commented that it was like going through an “open house” of a property for sale.  I had to ask about the photos, who they were.  The room guard/guide explained that they were photos of the current owner’s family.  The matriarch, a MacCrae pictured in an oil painting above the fire place in the room, had five daughters, 20 grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

The castle was the family home until the mid 1980’s.  They occasionally opened it’s doors to visitors from time to time.  But when it became obvious that the property would be more suited as a historic tourist attraction, the family moved into the servent quarters.  The castle is still used frequently for family gatherings, the matriarch will be celebrating her 80th birthday there next month and her oldest daughter recently turned 50.

We refueled with some soup and bread. Although I was curious about the Cullin Skink that was on the menu, my imagination was telling me it was probably something awful.  On the road again, we reached the Isle of Skye.  It was different.  Different scenery.  Flatter.  We stoppd a while to commune with the sheep.  Which made me wonder about a few statistics.  There are a lot of sheep, I mean A LOT of sheep on the Isle.  The general population of sheep is high across the whole of the U.K. but on Skye, it just seemed inordinately high.  I’m wondering about the ratio of sheep to people on this island.

The whole place,  at least the north west region we circuited, seemed rather barren.  I started also wondering what the species diversity overall was for the island (I need to look up some checklists for these statistics).   This apparent barrenness combined with the widespread large scale clear cutting of the pine trees was making me a little depressed.   Fields chewed to the nub and swaths of recently cut tree stumps does not paint the best picture of the island.  We decided we like the main land better and made the executive decision to head back to the mainland, where it was prettier, cutting our loop short.  It was the right thing to do.  We were able to get back to Glencoe relatively early and relax over dinner (and another football game, this time between two teams from Scotland).

England: Lake District - Catbells; Scotland Drive

When planning for this trip into the Fells, I was having a hard time narrowing down what hike to do.  I knew we had limited time so it couldn’t be an expedition of epic proportions.  But I wanted to make sure we got to have a good hiking experience. There are almost too many choices, all good choices, all with excellent views, I was paralyzed with all the choices.  Until the answer came to me through watching a program on England’s mountains where the program host followed one of Wainwright’s walks.

I own a copy of “The Best of Wainwright’s Walks” and still had a difficult time deciding what to do.  His hand written notes, maps and illustrations are all inspiring.  And upon this visit I can understand why he spent so much time exploring and documenting this region of the country.  This program, however, made the decision easy.  How could I resist a hike described by Wainwright as, “the perfect walk for after dinner.”

Given our time constraints, we hiked up Catbells.  The inviting knob rises up along side Derwentwater Lake just a few miles from Keswick.  It looks small enough to tackle, but big enough to make it worthwhile rising 1,481 feet in one and half miles.  It was a short hike and had enough moderately challenging bits scrabbling up rocky faces  for us to really feel like we were getting the full Lake District Fells experience.   We were rewarded with lovely views, despite the wind and clouds, the sun was trying desperately to make an appearance.

Although it was a relatively short hike, we decided we didn’t have enough time to do the other hike I had planned; which was a 4.5 mile level hike around Lake Buttermere, we’ll just have to do that one next time.  I could honestly return here and stay for week or more.  This is the most beautiful place we’ve seen in England so far, it is a shame we only really spent a day.  There would be so many walks worthwhile here, or sailing on the lakes or canoing or camping.  We will be back!  But for now, we hit the road for Scotland!

Once we were well past and had skirted around Glasgow, the drive became the destination. The mountains just seemed to come out of nowhere.  No sooner were we on what was a plateau of pretty even terrain, BAM!  there are the mountains towering above us.  I was surprised to see so many peaks still blanketed in snow and the tops were shrouded by clouds.  We wound around on twisty narrow roads that took us along lochs, rocky streams, dense forests and of course the mountains.  This was a drive made for the convertible.  It was such dramatically different scenery than anything we’ve seen so far.  Even in contrast to the Fells of the Lake District this morning.

We needed to make a bee line to the B&B we were staying at so we wouldn’t arrive after nine p.m.  After we settled ourselves in, we hit a local pub/restaurant, where there was a lively and divided crowd watching the UEFA  cup finals, red shirts in the bar, blue shirts in the restaurant.  The European football league that had two British teams in the final, and a game that was held in Moscow.  It was still light out when we left around 11 p.m. with the long lingering twilight.