England . . . Lakes, Cheese, and Cows

I have been informed that my turn is not yet up for posting. Here is another one. After my experience wading through the Valley of the Shadow of Shame, we drove to Chatburn and Downham, two cities where Heber C. Kimball had a lot of missionary success. Downham especially was beautiful. Years ago they buried all the power lines in an attempt to make the town look like it did during the 1800s. The town was tiny, and as we pulled up, the rest of my car informed me that I was parked in the bus stop. After my smart retort that we were obviously in a budding metropolis, the bus pulled up, and I was forced to move. It was incredible throughout the trip to notice that public transit is available anywhere in England. It was like catching the bus in Hatch, Utah (in case you're wondering why I picked Hatch, it is because Panguitch is much to large to count as a comparison to Downham). Downham, though, is much more charming. Here are a few pictures:

While we were stopping off at the Loo, our accents gave us away and a nice local gave us some tips on places to see while in the Lake District (our final destination for the day). This local was also one of the randomly selected participants in my 'what's the deal with your road signs?' poll and, to be honest, was incorrect in his assessment of current speed limits. Thanks to him, I did not pass Go or collect $200.

We left Downham and drove on towards the Lake District. On the way, MaryAnne's dad got sleepy and we pulled off at a country store. Little did we know that we had just been introduced to the food memory of the day. A five-minute stop turned into an hour-long one as we nibbled on cheese, bread, scones, stuffed olives, and stuffed baby red peppers (stuffed with cheese and the winner of the day). MaryAnne picked a Wensleydale cheese with cranberries in it, and I opted for the local smoked cheddar. We also bought a bit of a mango/ginger stilton.

We traveled on some narrow roads and arrived shortly thereafter at Coniston lake, where we ate more of our country store fare.

We then went to see Beatrix Potter's house but it closed shortly before we arrived (don't worry, we did hit the gift shop and made a donation in exchange for some overpriced Beatrix stories).

Since we didn't go to the house, we went on a 5-mile walk through the fields of Hawkshead and saw Tarn Hows, supposedly one of the best views in the Lake District (so said the brochure for the walk, an unbiased source, to be sure). On the walk we took eighty too many pictures of lambs, and hunger pains started to sit in for half of our group.

A few of us (Becky, Isaac, Steve, MaryAnne, me) finished the walk and consequently missed what we heard was a beautiful sunset at Lake Windermere, although we did see Tarn Hows. You can decide for yourself about the view.

My favorite memory on the walk was when we encountered dueling cows on the far side of the lake (from the vantage point of the last two pictures, and technically, in the background of the first one). They looked to be competing over a mate, and the boys were restless. The gate that we needed to get through was behind them and when the first two wrestled their way into the lake with a splash, we made our move. We crept slowly to second set of hormonal heifers (I know heifers are female, but I couldn't pass up the alliteration) and when they stirred, we cruised for the gate. MaryAnne was clutching to my arm from behind, but Isaac was long gone through the gate, and Becky felt abandoned. It was like that Seinfeld episode where George is at the little kid's birthday party and the fire alarm goes off. He tackles all of the kids on his way to the door. Okay, it wasn't like that at all, but Becky teased Isaac about it for the rest of the walk.

We finished the walk and made it to our hotel in Kendal after dark and there was zero parking. The clerk at the hotel told me that I could park by the town hall. I got lost getting there in the first place, and when I finally made it, there were three signs threating that I would be rewarded with a car boot and a hefty fine if I chose to park there. I drove back to the hotel and the clerk told me that the hotel and the town had an 'understanding,' and that I would not be assessed the fee. I asked the clerk if she had my license plate number and she told me that she didn't need it. Hmm... Stress set in. Luckily, the car was there, unbooted, in the morning. The malicious British signs stuck again! We ate at the hotel, and no one liked their food expect for Becky and me (we ordered the Red Pepper Tart). Good picking Bradley David. I wasn't always so lucky. One of my favorite things that happened at a dinner occurred the previous night at the nasty restaurant. Jonathan was the only one who ate all of his dessert, and apple pie with custard that was less than appetizing. I asked him if he liked it, and he looked down at his empty plate (he had cleaned up all of the custard and crumbs) and moaned, "it was HORRIBLE!" That's how most people felt about the food in Kendal.

England Continued . . . Preston and Civies

MaryAnne informed me that it is my turn to take over for the next portion of the trip. We woke up early the last morning that we were in London and caught the train to the airport, where we picked up the rental cars. Since I drove during most of my mission in Australia, I was dubbed driver for the trip. MaryAnne's dad also drove a car (a minivan) and I was assigned to the mid-size. Lucky for us, they upgraded us to a VW Passat, which was a hatchback. Without it, we would have been carrying bags on our laps for the whole trip. The first day in the cars was mostly spent driving because we had to get from Heathrow up to Preston. The funny thing about driving in England is that the speed limits are often not posted. There are random signs that look like no smoking signs or x's on top of a blue field. So, instead of speed limit signs, here are what you see on the side of the road:

Easy enough, eh? WHO KNOWS WHAT THEY MEAN? Apparently the X one means no stopping on the side of the road, and the smoking one means that national speed limits apply. What is the national speed limit, and does it differ by type of road? The only advice that I got from the rental car place was that freeways (motorways) are 70 MPH. Great. I asked 4 different Brits what the speed limits were on other roads, because I kept seeing this sign, which scared me.

In the rental car contract was a $70 additional "convenience" fee for each speeding ticket that you pick up. During the whole trip I had nightmares of turning in the rental car and being informed that I'd racked up hundreds of dollars of speeding tickets, accompanied with their "convenience" fees. Back to my random sample of British citizens. All four of them gave me different answers. 40 MPH, 50 MPH, 60 MPH, and 'it depends,' but with no explanation. Comforting, to be sure. If only someone (preferably Enterprise) had handed me this slip of paper:

Dang it. I spent most of the trip driving much to slow, but no speeding tickets! I guess we all had more time to enjoy the countryside. Also, on the way to Preston we stopped at a rest stop and had KFC. I was nostalgic for the Zinger Burger that I devoured on a regular basis in Melbourne. England's Zinger was nasty. The KFC ice cream was also a colossal disappointment. This was the first and last Zinger of the trip. As we pulled out of the rest stop and got on the freeway, the minivan's trunk flew open and bags scattered across the freeway. Luckily, they stayed in one lane, and I was directly behind them and just at the end of the on-ramp. I put on the hazard lights and the bags suffered minimal injury. From that point on, we double checked the trunk in both cars before we took off.

Okay, so we made it to Preston and we were able to see the old stomping grounds of the early Mormon missionaries. We were able to go to the River Ribble, where the first baptisms took place. Two converts apparently raced across the bridge to see who could be the first Mormon baptized in England. MaryAnne and Isaac tried to recreate the race. There was a nice park next to the river and the church had a plaque commemorating the early missionary work which was done in Preston and the surrounding area. We went through the Preston museum and our guide told us that Preston comes from "Priest Town" and that the area has had a lot of religious activity during its entire history. Our guide also loved to say "if you like" and "basically" ad nauseum. The food memory of the day were the jacket potatoes near the museum and the giant pillar in the town square.

We were going to visit more places around Preston but we needed to get to the Preston temple for a session and check into the patron housing there. We quickly checked in and walked to the nearest restaurant for dinner. The special was two meals, two drinks, and two desserts for 10 pounds (15 bucks). That was a steal for England. Well, you get what you pay for. Two nasty meals in one day for us. The temple was beautiful and MaryAnne and I had a chance to ponder on medical schools during the temple session.

When we woke the next morning, I couldn't find my keys to the rental car. The keys were HUGE and I couldn't believe that I couldn't find them. I figured that I must have left them in the temple. I ran up there (in a BYU t-shirt and jeans) and told the person at the desk that I thought I left my car key in my locker, but that I could remember my locker number (so he could go look). He looked at my recommend and told me to go in myself. If you want to be ridiculously uncomfortable, walk through the temple in a t-shirt and jeans. I went into the dressing room and looked in the locker. . . no key! I asked one of the workers in the dressing room (they were hovering around me as I was obviously drawing a lot of attention in my clothes) if they put car keys anywhere else. He told me to go upstairs to the office. So now I'm on the 2nd floor outside the celestial room in a t-shirt and jeans. A man comes running out of the sealing office exclaiming, "YOU'RE IN YOUR CIVIES!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP HERE?" Before I could explain myself, he thrust me into the elevator and pushed the button for the first floor. There was no mollifying him with the fact that I was following instructions. He left me on a chair near the dressing rooms for about 15 minutes while he sorted everything out. I was so stressed about the keys that I sat there with my head in my hands (again, in my t-shirt and jeans). I'm sure I was a conversation piece for who passed by. After my time in purgatory was up, I was informed that they couldn't locate the key anywhere. I ran back to the patron housing, just beside myself, and told everyone that I was still keyless. I then started going through my room with a fine toothed comb. Then MaryAnne called out to me and I discovered that the key was in her purse. Laura had used the key just before we went to dinner and I had put it in MaryAnne's purse during our walk to the underwhelming restaurant. I'm sure this story has its place in future church talks. Lesson learned? Don't wear your civies anywhere near the temple, because once you go in, it is good night for you.

The beginning of the England posts . . . London

At the outset I will warn you that these England posts are going to be picture-heavy, but you should be grateful that I'm not posting all 266 of our pictures. I guess we got a little camera happy . . .

We made it to London safely despite the threat of the volcano. As soon as we got there we took a little stroll through Hyde Park. I adore Hyde Park! I love the Serpentine, I love the Peter Pan statue, I love seeing people exercise, I loved seeing the bridal party stroll by, I love the Prince Albert monument. It's fantastic!

That afternoon we went over to Leicester Square looking for some half-priced tickets to Wicked. We found the tickets and some AMAZING kebabs. It was a great afternoon. I thought I was going to be too tired, but one Diet Coke later and I was good to go. (Side note - I convinced most of my siblings to see Love Never Dies, the sequel to Phantom because I'd heard it was all the rage in an NPR story. They did go and my sister-in-law let me know that the plot was slightly worse than Mama Mia. Ouch! So a word to the wise, the new hotness is not worth it.)

Wicked was SO fun! I've been dying to see it since I got back from my mission! I loved it! Since we bought our tickets day of, three of the four were WAY up there. My brother-in-law was really nice to switch with me for the second half, and then I was on the fourth row. It was pretty awesome.

The next day was Sunday, so we made it our church day. I can't say any of us were too awake in any of the sermons we heard that day. We went to the Hyde Park ward in the morning. Then after we took a double decker through the city over to St. Paul's. We went to the evensong there. The sermon was boring, but the architecture was amazing. We went over to hear an organ performance (which in Brad's opinion was horrific) at Westminster. Again, we all fell asleep, but the building was so beautiful. It's always fun to see Big Ben because that is so quintessentially London. That night we went to a fantastic Indian restaurant for dinner.

The next day we visited the BYU London Center where my family lived when I was six. It was so fun to be there with all my siblings again! We loved it! We also went over to Trafalgar Square, which is where we took our 1989 Christmas Card picture. :)

We went to the War Rooms, which was really interesting. I'd never been before (though I'd attempted to go several times). It is the bunker where Winston Churchill directed WWII. I loved learning more about that process and about Churchill himself.

Brad and I broke off from my family for the rest of the day. We went to the British, and the National - both of which were fantastic! We also made to Buckingham Palace, which was great. At the end of the afternoon we walked over to the houses of Parliament for a great view. If I would have planned better, we would have gotten there a little bit earlier so that we could have seen the House of Commons. Bummer.

That night we went to see Les Miserables. No other musical compares to that one for me. It has everything - I love it! Unfortunately the guy who played Marius sounded like a goat, but other than that our leads were great.

Our time in London was nearly perfect. For the most part we had fantastic weather. We were able to see a lot of stuff in the two and a half days we had. And we loved spending time with our family there. It was great!

P.S. Sorry if there are typos - it's late and I'm tired, so forgive me.

Yes We Can, Britain!

MaryAnne and I really need to blog about our trip to England, and we will soon. One of my favorite things to see as we were driving on country roads were the political signs. As many of you know, the UK had its elections last week. Here was a sign which made me realize that I was not in the United States.

Love it.