1: Kings Cross, London

I made it to the UK in great shape after a non-stop flight between Austin and Heathrow. What I had not planned for, though, was that the London Rail and Underground systems exchange has changed since the last time I was here. There’s this “Elizabeth Line” thing to contend with. It’s not the line or the train that’s the problem, it’s the signage. Rather, the lack of it if you’re getting off and taking any other line or getting on a train instead of the Tube. Even some Londoners with me were confounded. If you’re not having to wheel suitcases through the station, look for lifts, or switching lines, maybe it’s easier? It was not a breeze. I told my brother that I felt like Hannibal with elephants getting through the city. It was really cool to find out I’m physically stronger than I thought. I have long had memories of the trains in London, always knowing where I was and where I was headed, but this was a Brave New World in 2024. Since 2012, London has had the Olympics, the Queen’s jubilees, her funeral, and a coronation in addition to growing in population. The Tube had to grow with it all. I ultimately won the day and don’t plan to have to get back on it with bags again, so that’s alright.

I broke my hard-and-fast jet lag rule and took exactly a one hour and thirty minute nap after I got to the hotel and had lunch. I’m not sure it did any harm that first day but I wonder if my sinking spells around 3pm the following days had something to do with that? I don’t know how to even figure out if there’s a connection. All I know is that I’m here safely and all in one piece. Not too shabby all on my own and God, I love this city.

Kings Cross (the area where I booked my hotel) used to be a red-light district in London and my British friends have been giving me a hard time about staying there even though it’s much different now. My first trip to London was in college and we stayed not too far from there AND Kings Cross is the rail station I need to get to Leeds in a couple days.

I headed out a little while ago for some dinner and people watching. The buskers here are all so good and I got a sandwich and settled on a bench in front of the station to listen to some good music. I chatted with my brother and texted people to let them know I had arrived and was fine. I have a small army back home keeping track of me, and a few strategic UK friends ready to jump into action if I need them. So far, I’m good! I’m so happy to be back here!

2: London All Day, London Into the Night!

I got up feeling really refreshed, had a good breakfast in the hotel and charged out to meet the day. I had seen a sign for “hop-on-hop-off” bus tours over at the train station and it’s what I usually do when I get to a city so I can get my bearings. I still had my London bearings, so this was about people and city watching.

Those who know me, know that I chat with EVERYONE when I’m traveling (in a good way). I got the guys at the newsstand to tell me which bus line was their favorite and they loaded me up with maps and directions. I met this fabulous 73 year-old woman from Alberta under the bus stop (it drizzled all day long). She was doing the same thing I was but the next day she and her companions were headed to Southampton to get on a British Isles cruise. She was an intrepid traveler and a delight. We waved goodbye as we set off in our different directions and she had most certainly gotten my day off to a bright start.

Since I was starting from Kings Cross Station, the first places we passed were my old friends from my first visit over, back during my Austin College days. Bloomsbury, British Museum, Leicester Square, SOHO. We even passed the Royal Imperial Hotel where all us college students stayed. I wondered if it still had legendarily ugly carpet. The area has changed remarkably in the last 12 years but it still had a familiar feel to me. We walked a lot of miles in these neighborhoods back in the day.

I decided to “hop off” at Lambeth Square in southwest London and take a walk to the Imperial War Museum (IWM) to see if they had any new information on my grandfather’s regiment during WWI and I suppose to remember him a little bit — and honor what he went through before he left England for Mexico in 1920 and then up into Texas where he and my grandmother met, married, and had their family. When I knew him, he was quiet and gentle. This unplanned stop was also me trying, I suppose, to reconcile the incomprehensible violence he was in for five solid years with the gentleness I knew in him in his later life. For the record — after what I saw in the WWI exhibit from the British POV — I can’t make the leap. I hope to talk to my uncle when I get home and ask him. I look forward to the conversation. After my short trip to the IWM, I walked back to Lambeth Square through St. Mary’s Gardens and hopped back on, rode back to King’s Cross, changed clothes at the hotel, and raced out again!

I went to SOHO and met an old co-worker from Austin who has been living in England over 20 years now. We were in a Dutch pub called De Hems in Chinatown, which was a fabulous place to reconnect (along with a couple other folks from our company) for a few hours. We had lots of laughs and caught up. After drinks we went for pho around the corner and spent some more hours talking about business and how to save the world. It was so good to see my old friend again and to see how well he is doing. He hailed me a cab and we parted ways in the rain. I was in a cab zig-zagging through the Theatre District at 11:00pm jet lagged AF but having a ball. My cabbie and I had a chat about football when I asked him what the score was in the Tottenham game earlier. He said, “Well, I don’t rightly know because I’m a West Ham supporter and it’s m’ job to hate Tottenham.” I. LOVE. THIS. PLACE.

3: The Car

Day 3 was meant to be a resting day and it was. I took my bags (heretofore referred to as the “Elephants”) through Kings Cross Station and got on a 2 hour train trip to Leeds. By the time I herded the Elephants over to the hotel, it was clear that my body was going to rest whether I wanted it to or not — the late night in London had a price, after all! It was a nice place and I had a tasty dinner in the hotel restaurant. I felt brave and ordered a hamburger — chancy, based on my experiences of English “hamburgers” in my college days which consisted of a burger patty, a separate salad with salad dressing, and a hard roll. I’m happy to say they’ve come a long way in the right direction. This was an actual sandwich with all the correct ingredients. The only thing questionable was the “BBQ Relish” which was a bbq-sauce-flavored chutney with onions and some gelatin. Oof. But otherwise a great meal. I chatted with my server, another uni student working her way through school. She was amazing and she thought it was great that I was on an adventure all by myself.

Day 4. CAR DAY. I had been, um, “anticipating” this part of the trip with bated breath (I chose the word “bated” carefully here because it was a lot of big feelings I was having. The definition is “in a nervous and excited state anticipating what will happen.”). I’ve been to the UK a lot but have not driven before, and now this nutter thought it would be a great idea to rent a car and drive from Leeds to the Yorkshire Dales National Park her first time out. My first alarm bell was researching the trip the night before when I saw it was 71 miles away but would take over 2 hours to drive. My naive self simply thought, “Wonder why that is?” We’ll come back to that. And yes, I really did watch driving videos the night before. And yes, they saved my ass.

My second alarm bell was the car they rented me. I had asked for and was expecting a compact or economy sized car with GPS (“SatNav”). “Oh, no, Miss. We wanted to give you a free, proper upgrade since you’re from so far away and we want you to be comfortable.” I didn’t argue and now that particular moment lives on in regret for the rest of my days. It was a Nissan Qash-or-Cashcow-or-Quilt-something-or-other (too many Q’s and no U’s and my brain won’t hold onto the word) and the size of a US Rogue (NOTE: It’s called a QashQai, it turns out, but I absolutely can NOT remember it). Driving on the left took every, single brain cell and neural pathway I had and took an unnerving amount of concentration. I found that talking to myself while driving was key. “Ok, stay left here. If you don’t know where to point the car after this junction, take a second and figure it out. Stay left here. Left! Where the hell is the left side of your car? Find it fast! Stay left here…” You get the picture (or rather, the soundtrack…I’m kind of sorry it wasn’t recorded. Ha!) The CashCow-Quilt car was, indeed, comfortable and easy to manage on the A1 Motorway leaving the city. I was too inexperienced, though, to notice the gradual narrowing of all the roads the further north I drove. By the time I got to my destination, Hawes, my car was Gulliver and the roads were the tiny Lilliputians. The roads were incredibly narrow two-lane country roads without shoulders AT BEST. More often than not, they defaulted to single lanes. Did I mention that my car was big?! There was nothing about single lanes in any of the UK driving videos I watched. WTF.

I made it almost all the way into Hawes without incident. I was starting to have trouble judging where the left side of the car (now named “Bonnie Lass”) was in relation to the ersatz shoulders — which were usually stone walls or hedgerows right up against the lane. Or even better, parked cars that stuck out almost the entire width of the lane, so I would have to swing around them playing a combination game of “Chicken” and “Trust Fall” with the oncoming motorists.

Do you know what happens in little village towns on Saturday mornings? MARKETS! Know who rides through the Dales countryside every weekend? MOTORCYCLES! and BICYCLES! Thousands of them. Mayhem. Everyone in town knew the rules and I had suddenly forgotten them all, if I had even known them to begin with. Everyone was swinging around parked cars and hugging brick walls so we could all come through and...as I swerved left…nothing loud or dramatic, just a little bang in my ear. I had to keep moving. Up ahead was a parking space! I took it and sat there for awhile, letting the Mayhem pass me by. The car was scratched on a stone fence but I had purchased good insurance, so I tried to let it go. Across the road was a nice, warm pub with cider on tap, some pub lasagna, and super nice locals. My check-in at my Bed and Breakfast at 4pm was welcome and warm and I didn’t drive again for 4 whole days.

4: Herriot's, In Hawes

More on my arrival at the Bed and Breakfast the evening before…

I stayed at Herriot’s in Hawes twelve years ago when a friend of mine and I did a UK trip. I had picked them because of the Herriot name, but quickly struck up an acquaintance with the owner, Glenn, over email. I checked them out and it looked like a great place to stay while doing some Dales walking on our way up to Scotland. We had a really nice time there with Glenn and his wife Liz. Back then we talked about the US and the concealed carry laws (they had lots of questions which I’m not sure we answered well), England’s politics, and how to say “y’all” like a Texan. They got us sorted each morning as we planned our walks and we became friends. I followed them on Facebook and have been keeping up with them off and on ever since.

Fast forward to 2024 and my decision to take this trip. As soon as I started thinking about it I emailed Glenn, who remembered me well and welcomed the reservation. I booked 6 nights and made the bold decision to drive up, partly because I knew I would be staying with Glenn and Liz again and had a good idea of what to expect. When I arrived on the Saturday afternoon after Mayhem, Marketplaces, and scratched car doors, it felt like coming home. There was another guest there named Harry. Glenn introduced us, a really interesting 87 year-old retired lawyer who was walking the upper Dales for a week. This fellow deserves a whole blog to himself!

From the street, my room was up four flights of stairs. I got the Elephants up and crashed. I had an apple, banana, and chocolate for dinner and slept at least 11 hours. I awoke to word that my very favorite professor from college had passed away a few days before and it made me really reflective. I was in a really, really good place to be reflective.

That first morning it felt so good to be there (TBH every morning felt that way)! Greeted cheerily by Glenn, I had my first of Liz’s breakfasts that week. My Lord, the woman makes beautiful food and it was every bit as good as I had remembered. She’s an elite professional chef and eating breakfast there is a real treat. After the guests were all served, she came out from the kitchen and it was great to be together again! We decided we would have fish and chips for dinner that night and catch up properly, along with Harry. (Also, those were the best fish & chips with mushy peas of the trip.)

I wandered around the Main Street of Hawes that afternoon. More motorcycles and bicycles. I was disappointed to find out that what I thought I heard was a “Spa’ in town was actually “Spar” the grocery store (the two words sound EXACTLY the same there). There was a local craft fair going on and I met three great women who were showing their art. A potter, a quilter, and a glass artist. I bought a snack and some water and sat on the big, wooden bench at the village churchyard among the gravestones and dandelions. The people watching was great, but not nearly as good as the dog watching. I fantasized about doing a photo spread of “The Dogs of Hawes” — they are pure royalty in the Dales. Pure-bred and perfect. They are walking showpieces. Spaniels, Bulldogs, Great Danes, Retrievers, several breeds I had never even seen before — all shiny and fancy and magnificent. They owned the place.

But then there were the herding dogs. A whole other matter. I do not count the working dogs in my descriptions above, even though the are also pure bred and perfect — they are a species unto themselves. They were mostly Border Collies, but not all. They were all with their farmers and trotted through the town with muddy legs and great purpose. People treated them differently, and saw people give way for them on the sidewalks as they came in from the fields to sit in the pubs with their farmers. I’m pretty certain they are more human than canine and it was a bit awe-inspiring to be in their presence. The fancy dogs may have owned the place, but the working dogs ruled it.

Such an enjoyable dinner with Glenn, Liz, and Harry over fish & chips. They even shared some of the Lamme’s chocolate Longhorns and Pecan Pralines I brought them for dessert (I told them they didn’t have to share.) I was a happy girl.

5: Day...Next: Heaven

I’ve lost track of the days. My perception and perspective up in these fells are changed. Deceptive. Delightful. Dangerous for keeping a schedule.

The light here is special — the sky rivals West Texas in wideness but the clouds come very close. The sun is very high in the sky at this longitude, so there are dark cloud shadows that drift across the hillsides all the time, mottling the land. Moving swiftly.

The green here is special. I didn’t know there were so many different hues and textures of it. An endless variety of green — something I would never even have thought to imagine. I had intended to try and do some painting here but quickly abandoned the idea because I don’t know how anyone could mix this many greens.

Distance here is special because, as Liz said, “The land here undulates.” It’s why my first driving map said 71 miles but over 2 hours to drive. It goes up and down everywhere. For every fell there is a dale — translated, for each higher place there is a lower place. Nothing is level. In fact, there are only two places in all of Upper Wensleydale where a helicopter can land.

Time is also special. The busy world is a long, long way away up here. This time of year, there are around 17 hours of daylight each day. The pace of life is slow and people take things as they come. Animals and their well-being are everything. Sheep and dogs, cattle and show horses. Tractors and hay bales. Because of the wiggly little roads, even during the week the delivery trucks move slowly and carefully. Anything even resembling a motorway is more than an hour drive through even more hills.

This is exactly where I need to be at this moment in my life. I suspected it was and went to a lot of trouble to get here, but I know it now. This may actually be my Heaven. I feel contained and supported by this land, this pace, this water, and these people.

6: Day....Another: The Grand Tour

It was time for Harry the Explorer to go to his next village and since Liz and Glenn had no guests coming in, they decided to drive him over and asked me to tag along. We watched a couple of episodes of “Fawlty Towers” before we left because our friend Harry hadn’t seen them before — this was all due to Glenn’s comment that he channels his inner Basil Fawlty in his job from time to time. Ha! We watched “Mrs. Richards” and “Hotel Inspectors” and then took off in their car on an adventure.

We went up to Sedbusk and past Hardraw, heading up into the clouds on a rainy day. Up and up to Fossdale and we crossed out of Wensleydale over Buttertubs Pass into Swaledale. Even though they are so close together, the character and colors of these two Dales are different. We stopped for an absolutely wonderful meal at the Tea Shop in Mucker (pronounced “mew-ker”) and it turns out that is where Liz and Glenn spent their honeymoon all those years ago. I had a ham and tomato sandwich that was served on granary bread with this exquisite butter. My friends had “cream tea” which is tea or coffee served with scones, clotted cream and jam. It’s a meal I won’t soon forget (Harry shared half a scone with me, thanks, Harry!). The service and food were impeccable and I could get very, very used to this.

After Mucker we went down and across Swaledale to Askrigg and dropped off Harry at his next home-base hotel. Then out past Aysgarth Falls (remember Robin Hood Prince of Thieves? They shot the river scene there) and out to Castle Bolton, Sumer Water, and then to a pub in Redmire for dinner. Beer and apple cider on tap, Indian food on the menu, and I got introduced to something called a suet pudding which is this rich, stewed beef baked in a pastry with a suet base, vegetables, and all covered in brown gravy. I only had a little bite, but it’s one of the richest things I’ve ever tasted. And yum. Then back toward Askrigg, through Bainbridge and back home to Hawes. The map said we traveled 42.1 miles but measured an hour and thirty-six minute drive not counting our stops to get out and take pictures. Like I said — distance is different up here. Everything is different up here in ways that suit be very well.

7: Between Here and Heaven

“With an arrow and bow and some seeds left to sow we are staking our claim
On ground so fertile we forget who we’ve hurt along the way and reach out
For a strange hand to hold, someone strong but not bold enough to tear down the wall.
’Cause we ain’t lost enough to find the stars aren’t crossed — why align them?
Why fall hard not soft into fall not winter spring not summer cool not cold
Where it’s warm, not hot, have we all forgotten that we’re getting old…?”

(“Between Here and Heaven,” The Goat Rope Sessions Thile, Duncan, O’Donovan, Meyer.

I’m losing my sense of what “home” is in this in-between place I’m staying. This morning we had soft-boiled eggs with toast strips for dipping into them called “Dippy Eggs,” a childhood favorite. We played games, visited, ate together (had an amazing sandwich that Liz made — smoked salmon, cucumber, mayo, lemon, salt and pepper on toast — I’m starting to describe the food here so I can remember details and poorly imitate it later.) It also helped that we ate out on the terrace while the sun was out and I even helped Glenn pull some weeds in the garden afterwards. Home? Is home here? Is home there? Is it somewhere I haven’t been yet? Is it even a place anymore?

Liz and I set out for a walk later. I told her I’m overwhelmed by how beautiful it is here and she admitted that she is, too, even after 14 years — she is very fortunate to call this place her home. She showed me some of her favorite places along the fields toward Sedbusk, the bench at the top of the hill, and the long lane they have redone recently. There were daffodils fading out, bluebells in bloom, unusual birds, a lamb that had made it through a fence and was yelling for his mom, stone bridges, a gorgeous, slow river, and lots of people to say hello to on the path.

I want to take a moment to remember Harold, Liz and Glenn’s beloved dog companion of 12 years who recently passed away. He was a Lurcher, a fine friend, and a very good, naughty boy. In Liz’s words, “A true Dales dog.” Bless him, indeed.

After having the chance to settle in and shake off the last 9 months of my life, I’m starting to feel this place. The land is solid under my feet but there are massive, slow currents — of time? the Earth? — turning underneath. Slow like the ocean, I think. I feel contained and held by these hills and am finding a calm I haven’t felt in a very long time.

8: The Car...Part Deux

You thought we were finished dealing with the car, didn’t you? Boy, were YOU wrong!

I’d been having a lovely time walking and being driven by other people and putting the car stress behind me. The tell-tale sign that I was still a little tense about driving again was that I wasn’t interested in taking the car anywhere. I thought it was just fine where it was, parked on the street. Glenn was starting to send little signals to me that it really would be okay if I took the car around a bit. I admit I felt like I needed to not lose my nerve and get in some more right-handed turns and put some of his advice into practice, which was keep the car in the middle of the lane and move over when necessary. That will keep the right side on the pavement, for sure. Ok, I’ll do it. I want to have the satisfaction of making my way around. Of independence. And after all, I do HAVE to drive myself out when the time comes to leave.

Liz asked how fresh salmon and vegetables sounded for dinner one night— she was cooking! OK, Hold that thought…

I drove the Nissan CashCow Quilt car Bonnie Lass out of Hawes and up into the neighboring village of Gayle. Glenn’s advice was solid. I did quite a few right-handed turns, back ups, and single lanes. I was feeling good so I headed out without a particular destination other than “west.” Wow, it felt good to be out on a sunny day! The CashCow Quilt car had a massive sun roof and I had the cover back to have sunlight in the car. The windows were down and I could smell the flowers and the sheep (an interesting, but not altogether unpleasant odor) as I toodled toward Garsdale to see the train station and turn back in time for a beautiful salmon dinner. I even negotiated a 7 or 8 point turnaround in the train stations’s narrow drive. I was pretty pleased. I texted Glenn and Liz at 4:50pm saying, “All is well. Made it to Garsdale.” And headed back.

About fifteen minutes later I sent another text. “Spoke too soon. Just had a tire blow out and there is no spare.”

(For the record, I was FULLY prepared to change that tire myself.")

To sum up the events of the rest of the evening, Glenn tore out of their place armed with my vague description of the location. If you are going to break down in the Dales, do it where I did. Gorgeous landscape AND cell coverage (if that hadn’t been the case, I might still be on that hill)!! I got busy looking for the rental contract and roadside assistance numbers and Glenn was there in short order. An hour and a half later the handsome and capable AA driver (which is AAA over here) was there and had the Nissan CashCow Quilt car Bonnie Lass on the back of a truck. We were keeping Liz apprised because she was timing our dinner. Because the Dales are, well, the Dales — and because Glenn is, well, Glenn — these Dalesmen were able to arrange having the CashCow Quilt car taken directly to the garage after hours that night, speak to the mechanic in person, and have a tire change ordered for the next day.

We walked in the house and Liz put an absolutely gorgeous meal in front of us. And yes, there was wine.

I don’t know if there is a moral to this story at all. But having friends who will drive out and find you in the middle of the countryside at a moment’s notice are worth more than just about anything in my book.

This song comes to mind…and it’s for you, Liz and Glenn. Thanks for all the things.
https://youtu.be/qXuPyE7CKZQ?feature=shared

When It Don’t Come Easy — Patty Griffin

Red lights are flashing on the highway
I wonder if we’re gonna ever get home
I wonder if we’re gonna ever get home tonight
Everywhere the water’s getting rough
Your best intentions may not be enough
I wonder if we’re gonna ever get home tonight

But if you break down
I’ll drive out and find you
If you forget my love
I’ll try to remind you
And stay by you when it don’t come easy

I don’t know nothing except change will come
Year after year what we do is undone
Time keeps moving from a crawl to a run
I wonder if we’re gonna ever get home

You’re out there walking down a highway
And all of the signs got blown away
Sometimes you wonder if you’re walking in the wrong direction

But if you break down
I’ll drive out and find you
If you forget my love
I’ll try to remind you
And stay by you when it don’t come easy

So many things that I had before
That don’t matter to me now
Tonight I cry for the love that I’ve lost
And the love I’ve never found
When the last bird falls
And the last siren sounds
Someone will say what’s been said before
It’s only love we’re looking for

But if you break down
I’ll drive out and find you
If you forget my love
I’ll try to remind you
And stay by you when it don’t come easy

9: The USS Battleship Bonnie Lass

After the blowout, I said out loud that I needed to find some hippies or Druids to take the hex off The CashCow Quilt Car. Liz and Glenn laughed but saw that I was also more than halfway serious. I wasn’t messing around any more and called in the big guns — the Rock and Mineral Store in Hawes.

Armed with local crystals and the conscious, no-messing-around intention to be in harmony and rhythm with the traffic and roads and car, I persevered. Sure, you may think it’s nutty or woo-woo or even dumb to consider something like this would make a difference. But it works for me — the power of clear intention is mighty, as is the confidence I get from taking some sort of action to rectify or clarify a situation. So I bought some rocks and put them in the car and told the car problem juju to get lost. I took action. And sitting in the car getting ready to leave the Dales, I felt some confidence behind the wheel I hadn’t before. The CashCow Quilt Car, aka “Bonnie Lass,” had changed during her time in North Yorkshire and was leaving as a tested veteran of the Dales roads. On the trip back out of the Dales National Park, she became the U.S.S. Battleship Bonnie Lass (which included a road closure and detour down a perfectly diabolical lane called “Thornton Road” as well as bumper-to-bumper traffic on the A1 later) and gave me a safe journey back to Leeds. I, too, had become a tested veteran of the roads and am still quite proud of myself for collecting only minor damage and keeping my nerve. I told Glenn I thought there should be some sort of Badge of Honor or Courage for an American driving solo in a giant car on those roads. I would wear one with pride!

Our last day together was great. There was more visiting and Glenn helped me get my bookings sorted for my arrival in Manchester in a few days. Liz and I decided to make some TexMex tacos and margaritas for dinner that evening and had the best time together in her kitchen. Glenn was very happy with the TexMex, too. After we cleared up, Liz and I walked over to the Sheepdog Demonstration being held near Sedbusk. Richard Fawcett is a world-champion Sheepdog Trainer and travels around the world teaching and training. (http://www.sheepdogdemo.co.uk/) He’s getting older and isn’t competing anymore, but his daughter is and they hold these demos to get the dogs used to having audiences while they work. They had five beautiful dogs to show us that evening, out in the fields with a perfectly blue sky. There are no words to describe this event, other than this is a visual example of the ancient dependence of humans and dogs on one another. It’s magical and powerful to see it all in action. The dogs are fast like bullets across the fields but at a whistle will stop dead in their tracks and wait for the next instruction. They have to be assertive (sheep can be vicious) but not aggressive (dogs can kill, too), smart but not opinionated, strong but must know when to stop. The relationships they each had with Richard were different and he knew everything there was to know about each dog — where they were in their development, their health, their strengths and growth areas, their distinct likes and dislikes, and their personalities. Yorkshiremen are known for their stoicism and tough exteriors, but Richard dropped all that as he spoke about his dogs and how much love he has for them. I was blessed to share the evening with Liz and I suspect she will go back again during the summer. I hope she does. We had a stroll through the fields and past the river to get back home, the late evening sun still in the sky, and we lingered in it all a bit as my last day was coming to a close.

It was time to go. I really, really didn’t want to but had to be a grownup about it because the second stage of my trip wasn’t going to wait — and there were some important things I wanted to do. There were big hugs and laughs as I got in the car with a box lunch Liz made for me and I took off down the lane, my friends waving in the rearview mirror. I turned to leave Hawes but stopped one last time at the bridge over the River Ure and got out. It was a sunny early morning and the light on the river had the finish of pewter. I spent a few moments in gratitude and also remembered a young friend who loved water and fishing and conservation — a young friend who left us way too soon. I said his name to the river. I think he would have loved it there. His mom told me later that there is no doubt he would have.

I was also grateful for the times during the week I would come up over the brow of a hill or turn a corner and the view would quite literally take my breath away and make my chest ache with just how unbelievably beautiful it was. My eyes would scan the whole vista and when I would think it was going to come to an end, the easy beauty of it all would just keep going and going.

I cautiously drove out of the Dales and onto the A1 to Thirsk. I’ve been up in Northern England several times before but had never visited the James Herriot Museum in Thirsk. Herriot’s books, beginning with “All Creatures Great and Small,” started my love of the Dales. My mom put them in my hands when I was 10 years old and I made a ritual of reading all the books in sequence every summer while I was in school, through college. The museum was quite excellent and I left loads of gratitude from my family for all the laughs, sweet tears, and amazing memories from watching the videos and reading the books aloud to each other.

The roads from Thirsk to Leeds were a lot. Once I got off the farm roads and from behind the tractors and bicycles, I was in bumper-to-bumper traffic. I started trusting my GPS (“SatNav”) and took the detours. Not sure if they did me any favors and I’ll probably never know, and I ended up going into Leeds from the east, driving through the suburbs just as schools were letting out.

Nothing I could have ever done would have prepared me for the City Center of Leeds. “Mental” is the word the locals used. It was lots of big circles on one-way streets and I was, apparently, staying at an invisible hotel. Neither I nor my GPS could pin down exact directions to it. It almost defeated me, but finally made a bold move into an alley and found the place purely by accident. I am fairly certain that had I not defied the GPS, I would STILL be driving in circles in Leeds.

10: Back in Leeds...

I’ve come back to Leeds to attend an Elbow concert and to see the city. Now I want a second driving badge for the Leeds City Centre. Even the locals think it’s nuts — a couple of years ago the City changed most of the downtown roads to one-way. It’s why my GPS couldn’t find a way to the hotel. I drove in a big circle taking small trips off the prescribed path to see if they helped. Finally, after 45 minutes of lightning fast traffic (and remember, I’m driving on the left and sitting on the right side of the car), the gods took pity on me and showed me the one and only, narrow hotel sign. I turned in underneath it and the little tunnel opened up into this beautiful courtyard with elegant facades. It HAD been invisible but I persevered. I had arrived and it was a vision.

I got the elephants unloaded and the USS Bonnie Lass parked on the third floor of the garage. Found a fabulous pizza place next door full of uni students who chatted with me and told me about the town. The brick-fired pizza was delicious, as were the two badly needed pints of cider. I had pizza to take back to the hotel, too. I have to say that eating well on any sort of schedule got really difficult after I left Liz’s beautiful home. It will go onto the list of "Things I Learned are Important” for my next long international trip.

The next day I returned USS Battleship Bonnie Lass to the car hire place, having my first and only experience with a petrol station. I will NEVER — I mean, NEVER — complain about gas prices at home again. It was 1.4 pounds (approximately $2 USD) per LITRE. There are 4.56 litres per UK gallon, making it about $9.12 per gallon, all the time, everywhere. I thanked Bonnie for her faithful service, found out my rental insurance covered most of the scratches and all of the blowout and towing, and was thrilled to be riding in a car again!

Soon I was out and about (it was Saturday) and the people watching rivaled London. There was a huge music festival on one end of the City Centre and people watching the Leeds United game in every pub. (I had been warned in advance not to identify myself as from the US during or after Leeds games — they brought several US players over for their team last year or the year before and they underperformed. It’s an opinion that the US players are the reason Leeds were relegated last year, and I didn’t want any of that.)

My Uber driver bringing me back from turning in the USS Bonnie Lass said in his thick Yorkshire accent, “Everthin’ in Leeds is either bein’ built oop or doog oop.” (Translation: “Built up or dug up”). It’s a changing place — fascinating — and I’d like to go back. It’s a mashup of class, culture, ethnicity, education, modern, and very old. Tuxedos and formals right alongside a level of dress that could only be prescribed as daringly skimpy. There were some of the most beautiful ethnically dressed African women and men with hair done as artwork, as well as odd bachelorette processions (so many that night) where all the women in the groups including brides and moms and grandmothers were wearing satin sashes and already staggeringly drunk at 5pm. Lots of uni students heading to clubs but also a lot of them heading to work. Young women (actually, all the women I saw) here seem to have no body shame and they confidently show off their bodies in ways I haven’t seen back home. Add to this atmosphere the absolutely NUTS driving situation and the “Chicken and Trust Fall” attitude of making your way in a car or crossing the streets, and you’ve got Leeds.

11: Manchester

“This is one of our favorite old songs and it is about a marriage that took place on the top deck of the 1-3-5 in Manchester. A marriage so secret that to this day, the bride has no idea it took place…” - Guy Garvey

And if it rains all day
Call on you, I'll call on you
Like I used to
Slide down beside and wrap you in stories
Tailored entirely for you
I'll remind you
We exchanged a vow
I love you, I always will

A call girl with yesterday eyes was our witness and priest
Stockport Supporters' Club kindly supplied us a choir
Your vow was your smile as we move down the aisle of the last bus home
And this is where I go
Just when it rains

Spitfire thin and strung like a violin, I was
Yours was the face with a grace from a different age
But you were the sun in my Sunday morning
You were the sun in my Sunday morning telling me never to go
So I'll live on the smile and move down the aisle of the last bus home
And if you're running late
This is where I'll go
Know I'll always wait
— “Great Expectations” by Elbow, Songwriters: Guy Edward John Garvey / Craig Lee Potter / Mark Potter / Peter James Turner

I took the train into Manchester with lots of excitement for the days ahead. The gray day and the problems with the train ticket and tram transfer across town dampened my mood, as well as having to deal with the elephants and rain during all of it. The Manchester Marriott was a mess of construction and building noise, an overworked staff, and confusion. I did finally get it all sorted and into my (second) room, took a short walk out for dinner and bearings-gathering, and tucked myself in, determined to start fresh for my Big Day.

My tour guide (a really close, old friend I haven’t seen in way too long) showed up at my hotel about 11am and had planned out our day together. We walked through a big part of City Centre and he took me for a quick tea and snack at an off-the-tourist-map cafe on our way to what he called my birthday destination, which remained a surprise. He showed me the part of the city that got blown up in 1996 and how they rebuilt. He showed me where the John Rylands Library was, where I would be going tomorrow, and then across to the Manchester Hilton (the “birthday destination”), up to “Cloud 23,” for high tea. Very swank and excellent company. We had cocktails and a wonderful meal and caught up on the several years since we’d talked.

Back across the city as rush hour was beginning, a long walk after cocktails was fun but challenging. I’m happy to say all the walking and dealing with elephants had me in good shape after just a few weeks. We got back in time for him to catch his train and for me to get ready for my big concert (the one that started the wheels turning for this whole trip). I’ll write about the Elbow concerts in their own entry, later — they were certainly worth the effort I put into getting to them. My heavens.

On the last day in Manchester I got back over to the John Rylands Centre to do some research on my great-grandfather and great uncle, who were both Methodist ministers in the early-to-mid 1900’s. I met a lovely fellow named Mark who patiently explained to me that, although their library holds the Methodist records, they have only recently acquired them and they are still mostly uncatalogued (there are two databases that have not been merged, and most things are still in boxes). He loaded me up with names, URLs, email addresses, and a little bit of hope that I could request information and make an appointment for a video meeting with the curator once I got home. We had a nice chat and he then sent me on my way to the Manchester Central Library, whose lovely librarians helped me get an Government Registry Account and we found some missing family information before I had to go get the elephants and make my train. I’m really excited to be able to use that account from the states and continue the search. That was all a LOT of fun and I could have stayed all day. As I was leaving, I crossed through Lincoln Square — Abraham Lincoln. He had written to the City of Manchester acknowledging the impact of the American Civil War and embargos on trade with the industrial English city. It was nice to see his words and face in the peaceful little park. I also passed a silent, vivid protest to save people in Gaza right now, just across from the library. This city is a surprise to me, with depths to plumb.

Thanks, Manchester. Even though you tested me at first to see if I could handle you, I came to feel your warm heart, your compassion, and generous spirit.

12: Wales

I took a train from Manchester to Newport, South Wales. My friend was waiting for me at the station and we drove into her little village of Blaenavon a few miles away through the lush, dark green forests and hills. It was so nice to be back here and it was familiar. The roads wind around and around here. These hills are much higher than the Dales and the greens are darker. The turns in the road would give little hints of a vast beauty in glimpses through the trees.

Such a warm and happy welcome for me! Homemade seafood linguini, bottles of prosecco, EXCELLENT music on the music system, great conversation.

The days in Wales absolutely flew by. There were trips to Abergavenny, Cwmbran, Pontypool. I booked a very good massage in Abergavenny to help treat my concert injury — a sore foot and leg from standing at the Manchester concert for 4.5 hours (worth it!!!). I got to meet my friend’s posse of girlfriends while I was here this time, which was a treat. There was a Friday night at a local pub with all of them and the kids and dogs. I had my first encounter with midges and they are as much of a nuisance as I have always heard (but they are still a FAR cry from the Texas mosquitos). We got a table outside and the kids could run and play. We ended up singing as the sun went down and some of the locals came outside to us and asked us to come in and entertain! We opted to keep singing outside and it became uncomfortably cool for this Texas Girl and I ended up with someone else’s coat and a glass of cognac to survive. It is still a good antifreeze!

There was a shopping excursion into Newbury (back in England) and a lovely evening at a restaurant with my friend’s amazing daughter (she’s finishing her semester) and another new friend.

The next day took us into the village of Usk, which is an absolutely gorgeous town and worth seeking out. We got back to Blaenavon early afternoon and all of a sudden it was time for me to load up the elephants and go back to London. Like I said…it all went by so fast! Thanks to my friends for their generous hospitality and love…I enjoyed my time in the Land of Dragons!

13: A British Birthday

I got safely from Wales to London thanks to my friend offering to make the trip in her car. The first whole day back I was exhausted...I was able to nap and process and catch up to myself. I wrote for the majority of the day and had a very nice dinner at the hotel (for future reference, use the Courtyard Marriott Heathrow if you need to stay close to the airport...big rooms, helpful and friendly staff, good restaurants, and close to the BA and American terminals). I felt the requisite guilt for not having gone out to play that day, but I've discovered that a secret to successful solo travel is to pace oneself. This was certainly a pace day but was in no way a lost day. I got to figure out where I wanted to be on my birthday, which was also going to be my last day in England.

I was up and out of the hotel at 9am after getting directions from the concierge. A short red bus ride to Hounslow Station and then on the Piccadilly line straight into London -- 10 stops away. I was on the tube for a full hour but was so glad to be back on and getting my "tube legs" back. There's a rhythm and flow to the underground and it came back fairly quickly. The strange, warm breezes when the trains rush through, the rush of doors opening and people moving in minuets in and out of the cars. The silence after a train departs. Lovely stuff, and evocative -- memories from my young adult self and friends on our first adventure here, together. Many of us became friends for life on that trip and I am thinking of them all.

I walked around Picadilly Circus down Bond Street. I took photos of the gorgeous window displays, all the way down to the Ritz. Then I turned around and went back and into Leicester Square, past the theatres, and into Covent Garden. I was thrilled to see the place so vibrant and busy on a Wednesday morning! There were artists in their stalls and permanent stores and cafes in the big "galleries." I did a big chunk of my shopping there. A highlight was a cafe that offered space to classically-trained performers and I got to hear a couple of good string quartets and some singers. One of the string quartets played "Happy Birthday" to a woman sitting in a big, open area of the cafe and when I went past I told her happy birthday and that we share the day. She was delightful! She was with her daughter and husband and she was in London from Cambridge because she had been invited to Buckingham Palace that afternoon to receive an honor for 51 years of serving her community as an NHS nurse. They invited me to join them for a glass of champagne and we chatted for about 20 minutes, mentioning only offhandedly that she was in remission for leukemia. She said, "This is such a big day for me, I can hardly believe it!" She said that the king and queen were due to be there for her ceremony, as was Princess Anne. A lovely day for a lovely lady. We had big hugs for each other and I'm not likely to forget her anytime soon.

After my shopping and a quick lunch and cup of tea, it was time to go back to the tube stop and head back to the Heathrow hotel in the rain. Another hour on the tube, less busy this time of day, and a slightly disastrous misreading of the local bus schedule ended in a call to Uber and a car ride back to the hotel. What a total trip the day had been.

Dinner at the hotel -- the staff remembered I said I would be spending my birthday there and gave me a beautiful dessert and a very sweet note. It had been a great time and I spent it in the company of lovely people all over the city. I got phone calls and texts and Facebook greetings from my tribe at home and abroad, too. What an unexpected, lovely, lush day.

14: Tastes of the UK

English food gets a bad wrap. First of all, Indian food is the unofficial official food of the UK. I’ve had so many delicious curries during this trip! Tandoor, tikka, meat curry, chicken curry, aubergine (eggplant) curry. Yum.

Liz Payne in Yorkshire makes the best breakfasts I’ve ever had. Fry-ups with perfect eggs and blood pudding and ham with beans and toast. Poached eggs that look like works of art. Dippy Eggs (soft-boiled) and toast soldiers. Yogurt with homemade granola. I ran through her whole menu.

Gorgeous sandwiches — the artisan granary bread with fresh farm ham, tomato, English white cheddar, greens, and English butter. Cheese and tomato, Cornish pasties, the tea sandwiches at Cloud 23 that included ham and cheese on brioche, egg salad, sausage rolls, salmon and mayo, not to be confused with Liz’s salmon sandwich with mayo, lemon, cucumber, salt and pepper.

Fish and chips with mushy peas from Chippies (fish and chip shops) are the best anywhere, seafood linguini made with mussels, prawns, whitefish and topped with parmigiana and black pepper at a friend’s table, salmon pate at a restaurant, mmm. Poached salmon with cream sauce and broccolini at another friend’s table. My goodness.

So. Much. Good. Tea. All day, everywhere.

Mango pastry filled with cream. Berry muffin filled with cream. Something called an Irish Cream Cheesecake that is some majorly beautiful food. Chocolates and tarts at high tea. Scones with clotted cream and jam FTW.

A decent margarita at Bill’s in Newbury, and I forgot how close we are to France — all the prosecco is so GOOD. The bars are using freeze-dried fruits as garnish and flavor, and I hope the bars in the US are, too. A really cool touch.

So don’t be fooled or buy the hype — the food in England is amazing.

15: Elbow and my Right Foot

From Wikipedia: “[The band] changed their name to 'Elbow' in 1997, inspired by a line in the BBC TV drama The Singing Detective in which the character Philip Marlow describes the word "elbow" as the loveliest word in the English language.”

I took notice of them during the closing ceremony of the 2012 Olympics in London. They played “Open Arms” and “One Day Like This” as the athletes ended the games and it was kind of perfect music for such an important event. But time went on and I didn’t think about them again until we went into isolation in March, 2020.

I had a friend in Austin who shared their music on Facebook — the band members were also in isolation and started recording virtual sessions from their respective homes. They wanted to stay sharp and released new acoustic (and virtual) sessions that ultimately became their album “Elbow Rooms.” At the same time, my English boyfriend sent me some tracks. I got hooked. The sound, the musicianship, and oh my God the lyrics. The next summer I officiated a wedding and they played “One Day Like This” at their rehearsal dinner. Elbow were becoming a staple in my music rotation (which was super important while working by myself at home every day). The more I listened, the more I learned, and the more I fell in love — and oh my God, the lyrics.

Fast forward to 2023 and Elbow announce a new album AND the first concert tour in six years, to happen in the UK. Ding! I got the idea to just take a vacation so I can see them live. Then it became a BIG vacation when I realized I had leave saved up at work. It was a little short-notice since I wasn’t sure until the end of February that there would be a new employee at work who could cover my job but when I was sure, I booked it all and went for it. The new album dropped in March and I just got more and more excited to be going to see them in Leeds and then in Manchester, their home town.

May 12 I saw them in Leeds. I bought my tickets last-minute and ended up sitting in the nosebleeds. There was lots of room up there and the people around me and I stood up and danced at our seats. It was a great show — but only a hint of what was to come in Manchester. OMG.

For months, the new Manchester Coop Live Arena has been racing to be completed by May to open for performances. It’s the largest (or second largest?) arena in all of Europe. It’s also next door to the famous Ethiad Stadium, home of Manchester City soccer. An iconic spot. Several things went wrong in the last few weeks that delayed the opening and some performances were cancelled or postponed. It felt like everyone in England was holding their breath for it to get underway…and the Elbow concert was scheduled for May 14. All my UK friends were watching the news for me and keeping me posted.

The morning of May 13, the news broke that Elbow was a GO! The hometown lads were going to be the christening act of the arena. It was such a joyous occasion — the staffers were happy, the crowds, the vendors. To celebrate they gave everyone a coupon for a free drink or snack. Nice touch.

I was on the floor, standing, 30 feet away from the stage. It was hot and crowded and glorious. I knew the people who listened to this music would be like-minded and that I would meet some folks, but had no idea how it would turn out. I stood next to John and Julie, who were from the same town as the Elbow guys and had been with them from the beginning. John’s a bass player and he turned me onto a fan site that is the most wonderful group of people! When I posted my concert photos, he found me and we’re in touch! And the two women standing in front of me found me on there, too…we had formed a small, passive-aggressive wall to prevent latecomers from pushing in front of us. People who were clearly NOT as dedicated as we were. Just saying…

Standing for 4 1/2 hours in one place caused a concert injury to my right foot. I have cramps in my foot, calf, and butt that are better, but were yelling at me for days afterwards. Now, it’s an occasional happy reminder that I did what I did. Travelled half the world for music and friends. I’m awfully pleased and have no regrets.

The set list, the gracious, generous band, the all-woman killer horn and choir sections…the energy in that room. I’ll never forget it. Felt like we were all kind of floating up in the air together. And we SANG. 24,000 people singing the whole concert at the invitation of Guy Garvey. But the most amazing thing was the end of the evening (I hope you can see this link):

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C7BfcuqI0wb/?igsh=MWE5YmM1Y2JlejV5cA==

“Throw those curtains wide — one day like this a year will see me right!” The video of the end of the concert has gone viral. The band had dropped out completely and all of us were singing together, in tune, and when Guy yelled “Harmonize!” and we DID. Wow. It’s a few moments I’ll never forget as we raised the roof of that new arena with a joy and comraderie that made me feel like the world was alright for a moment. For years I have said that singing together will help save the world, and Manchester proved my theory in a hundred ways that night.

I’m writing this as I’m about to get back on the plane to Austin. I’ll finish the last entries while I’m flying so it’s all wrapped up by the time I get home. There’s one of these guys’ songs that has been with me the last few days, and it’s for everyone who has loved, supported, and flat out carried me through the days leading up to this trip and sometimes during it. Not my words, but certainly my sentiment. xx

https://youtu.be/tKH_1yZmTFc?feature=shared

Dear friends
You are angels and drunks
You are Magi
Old friends
You stuck a pin in the map I was in
And this is a note from the roadside

Cutting the breeze in this Tennessee sundown
Came the sound of the voices I know
I've been pondering trees
On the steeliest comedown
And now in moment I'm home

I've got bluster enough
For the sails of a clipper
And the truth never frays a good yarn
But it struck me to say while so far away
You were with me today
You are here in my head
In my heart

Dear friends
You are angels and drunks
You are Magi
Old friends
You stuck a pin in the map I was in
And you are the stars I navigate home by

”Dear Friends” - Elbow Writer(s): Richard Barry Jupp, Guy Edward John Garvey, Craig Lee Potter, Peter James Turner, Mark Potter

16: Magnificent

I'm writing this at 37,000ft somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. The fancy map says we're about to reach Canada with 5 1/2 hours left to fly. I'm starting to feel the pull of Austin in my head and heart. Remembering things I didn't get done before I left, thinking of things that need to happen when I get back, but coming and going like the thick fog in London today. I hope it all stays foggy, TBH. It's going to be HOT when I land today, somewhere in the 90's with a perfectly ridiculous heat index of 100-something. The warmest I've been in weeks was about 82F. Several nights I even had to wear a coat.

I've been in England a long time this time. I've done a lot of crazy fun things and made some really good friends that were very hard to say goodbye to. I came over to shake up my life and get perspective. To do some accounting of myself and my life choices up until now. To hear excellent music and make new friends. To get lost a little and found a little. We shall see, I suppose, how all of it starts to shake out.

Thanks for following along with me on this trip. I’m going to be posting photos and links retroactively as I dig back through my trip records.

Of course I'm gonna end this with more Elbow lyrics, because, OMG the lyrics.

This is where the bottle lands
Where all the biggest questions meet
With little feet stood in the sand

This is where the echoes slow to nothing on the tide
And where a tiny pair of hands
Find a sea-worn piece of glass

And set it as a sapphire in her mind
There she stands
Throwing both her arms around the world
A world that doesn't even know
How much it needs this little girl

It's all gonna be magnificent, she says.
It's all gonna be magnificent.
There she stands.

"Magnificent (she says}" -- Elbow