A Full English Breakfast, Of Course...8e

Rachel and  Heather are seated at the table in the breakfast room and ready to enjoy our meal.  And it is time for my second cup of tea. My new (and totally British) morning ritual is a cup of tea upon rising. It's a nice way to start the day and works well to warm me up on these chilly mornings.  Which sounds silly because look at the sunshine streaming in!!!

  Heather, always so motherly and sweet, and Rachel obligingly smiling for the photo. And Sara, of course, off foraging for food...       Actually, I'm afraid I have misrepresented Sara. She and I are both taking this picture, which is why these dear girls don't know which way to look and smile.

Janet, the lady who ran the bed and breakfast, also cooked a made-to-order breakfast. This is what is known as a Full English Breakfast. We were offered all sorts of lovely breakfast choices. Except for the black pudding. That was not a lovely choice. But the sausage and eggs, and toast and scones, mushrooms and crispy bacon were all quite tempting and delicious.  A little confusing was the fried tomato but it was surprisingly good if a bit unorthodox to my American way of thinking about breakfast.  Not certain of when or where our next meal would be, we ate plenty to fortify us for our day's adventures.

Yes it's really a barn...Day 8d

Yes, this Bed and Breakfast really is a barn. Or rather, it was a barn. And is now a bed and breakfast.  And to prove it, just a few photos

Look carefully through the fireplace and you can see one of my girls at her seat at breakfast table. This side of the fireplace is the lounge.

Just one of the horsey items reminding us this was indeed a barn.

This lovely interior (barn door) leads to our private bathroom.

Another view of the "walk-through" fireplace. I loved it.

Ceiling beam!

The stairs down to the first floor where the breakfast room is.

The tranquil scene from our bedroom window. I would describe it as bucolic but those are horses.

An antique chest, looking at home  in our bathroom.

Just some of the decor downstairs...

Wall decor...

This saddle practically proves my statement all on its own.

Another view of the stairs.

And a view of the outside of the Church Farm Bed and Breakfast in Monkton Farleigh, England. Highly recommended for an amazing get-away!  If you come in your car, there's ample parking.  You can take a taxi or Uber to get here from Bath or, if you'd like, there's even a bus that stops a block or two away that will take you to Bristol or Bath or many other places I would imagine. I can only speak with confidence about  Bristol and Bath.

A Cuppa... Day 8c

A lone cuppa.

A full cuppa.

Rachel and her cuppa.

A cuppa and a teapot.

I have to admit I was lusting over this teapot. 

I love teapots, especially, but not only, when they have tea in them. 

Window Views... Day 8b

One of my favorite things to do was to look out the window while the girls finished getting ready for the day.  The English countryside is so charming and rather different than the countryside that I'm used to in Oklahoma, Nebraska and Kansas. It's a little chilly and moist out there so I was content to view it from the warmth of our room and with a lovely cuppa in hand. "Cuppa" is a contraction of the words "cup of" and almost always refers to a cup of tea. Unless you aren't in the UK or you prefer coffee. Which would be weird. So just drink tea and don't make a spectacle of yourself. 

Good Morning from Church Farm Bed and Breakfast Day 8a

We slept very well in our suite at the Bed and Breakfast. Rachel and I got the master bedroom while Sara and Heather got the other bedroom. The one with the bunkbeds. So cute. 

The girls, not the beds.

I don't think they got into any trouble, i.e. pillow fights or midnight snacks, (although snacks are almost always a given with Sara) but I can't say for sure because I was asleep.

Dresser that held all the makings for a hot cup of tea. And biscuits!  Which I took full advantage of.

Many times.

As did Pooh

Side note: our lovely and comfy bed.

Door to our rooms. Our suite of rooms consisted of  two bedrooms and a restroom, aka loo. Rachel and I had the master bedroom which had  a double bed and the restroom, while the kiddos (Heather and Sara) had the bedroom with the bunkbeds. I imagine they had a jolly time. I was dead asleep.

Bathroom amenities.

Lovely, though narrow, window seat.

                        What is that shining orb throwing all this light into our window??????

We Arrive in Bath Day 7c

Since we arrived in Bath an hour later than we had expected to, we did the only thing that we could conceivably be expected to do---look for food.  We wandered around the area near the bus station, hoping for a quaint little pub or family restaurant, or even a take-away fish and chips shop. However, the best we could do was Kentucky Fried Chicken. In Bath, England. Yes, I know. Pitiful. It was literally the best we could do.  But we were starving and soon we were not starving any more. Rather we were concerned with how we were to get to our Bed and Breakfast which was in Monkton Farleigh, which as it turns out, was a village some five miles away.  Not a walkable distance at night. Or even during the day.

After we ate, we wandered around a bit, enjoying the shopping, the city center, the houses and the church of St. John the Evangelist.  The darkness was not the best for taking pictures but it did have its own sort of ambience. A rather scary sort of ambience. Although I do have to say this for Bath at night:  not once did we see anything to make us feel afraid or nervous or wishing we were somewhere else. We felt quite safe albeit a little concerned about how we were to get to Monkton Farleigh.  Or maybe that was just me. When it gets dark, I tend to want to be near my bed. Or in it. Preferably in it.

                             The Church of St. John the Evangelist in Bath, England.

Sarah finally called our B and B hostess who advised us to take a taxi. She also advised us not to get a taxi near the bus station as they were more expensive there. So we located the recommended taxi stand and secured a taxi with a female taxi driver, literally about the same age as us. Well, not me. The same age as the girls. We felt relief as we piled our luggage strategically into her little car and three of us snuggled into the back seat and Sara in the front, since she was our designated extrovert. We relaxed, secure in the knowledge we were soon to be settling into our home for the next few days. Umm, soon is not the way it worked out. Nor could we really relax.

First off, the young lady wasn't quite sure how to get to Monkton Farleigh, which is a tiny little village on the outskirts of Bath. She acted like she had never heard of it before and certainly didn't know how to get there. (girl!!!!! that's your job!!!! You're a taxi driver!!!!!  you live in Bath for Pete's sake...)  But this was in the early days of GPS technology and she was finally able to pull up directions and we were on our way!

However, once she had finally figured it out where Monkton Farley was, somehow she chose the most hair raising route to get there. Or possibly the GPS chose it.  She went around the narrowest, most winding roads that she could possibly find, in the dark, in the middle of the deepest medieval forest you can imagine. I kid you not. We drove through a forest on a cow path.   Ok, I'm kidding about the cow path but that is the only part I am kidding about.

Finally she located Church Farm Bed and Breakfast, much to our relief, delight and undying gratitude. But in our hearts, we were hoping that, should we ever need another taxi, we would get a different driver.

Bus Ride to Bath Day 7b

Our bus (finally) arrived and we gleefully hopped aboard, choosing seats near the front.  Which maybe wasn't the brightest idea. (just keep that word "bright" in mind)

We were so enthusiastic about the things we were seeing outside the bus windows (and the things the bus driver was obligingly pointing out to us) that we were becoming a little snap-happy with our cameras. And somebody may have inadvertently left  her flash on which seemed to annoy the bus driver after a few (make that a lot) of non-stop flash pictures. He was very direct in his preferences, especially ones that concerned the camera flash. It was quickly turned OFF.

  

You may very well be amazed that our bus was able to navigate down this street. We were.

Grosvenor Gardens

Random London buildings.

Harrod's as seen through the front window of the bus. Lots of people getting some early Christmas shopping in.  Well, it is late October. Who wouldn't want to go to Harrod's and get a jump on the season?!!?

By now we were out of London and closing in on Windsor. I was tired and had almost dozed off. Somebody mentioned that there was Windsor Castle in the distance. I snapped awake and took this (less than stellar) photograph. Windsor Castle is that round tower thingie in the middle of the pic. Behind the telephone pole and barely visible through the trees.  But it's there and I saw it!          

After Windsor and some driving on the UK's version of an interstate highway, we began to drive through charming little villages.    And then the bus driver received a fateful radio message. Which was to impact us. Not in a huge, life-changing way. Basically just an hour-long inconvenience. For some inexplicable reason, our bus had to take a detour to pick up a stranded bus driver. I am not sure why or how this bus driver got stranded but who am I to object helping out a fellow human being.  She and our driver had a lively discussion which lasted the rest of our journey and was instrumental in keeping me entertained (and awake.)

We finally arrived in Bath an hour later than we had expected to. And by then it was getting dark. And I had long since quit taking pictures of the scenery.  Since it was dark and all. And then there was that whole camera flash issue.