Sipson, England

This had to have been one of the weirdest places I have ever been. For my last night in England, I wanted to stay at one of the hotels near Heathrow since I had an early flight and had to return the rental car (whose GPS died on me enroute to the airport and I had to get Internet directions from the manager of a local pub).

I gambled on Expedia's blind fare (where you accept a price but don't know what hotel you will be at). I got Holiday Inn. Sigh. But it was a nice Holiday Inn. I think I was getting it confused with Howard Johnson's or something.

I wanted to have a glass of wine but not pay bar prices, so I asked the front desk guy how far of a drive is it to a store? He told me I could walk out of the hotel, turn left and there would be a pub.

This was in itself a little odd, since there was nothing else around there besides the airport. Most airports I've ever seen are like our Detroit Metro (basically stuck out in the middle of nowhere so no one complains about the noise) and Heathrow is no exception.

So I walked literally 250 feet down the road and see the pub but I walk another 300 feet and see another pub and a small village. Mothers were picking up their children from school and walking them home, people were hanging out in front of the pub or just walking around.

It was surreal to be so close to one of the world's busiest airports and then have this scene of domesticity and everyday life.

Apparently, there was a huge controversy in this village (called Sipson) because Heathrow wanted to expand and the village would have been destroyed. They eventually won but are still bitter about it.

Rye, East Sussex, England

From my home base in Bexhill-on-Sea, I took a day trip to Rye, a small village about 20 miles away. Rye is the type of little village Americans think of when they think of England.

Cobbled streets, narrow winding lanes, half-timbered houses.

It's apparently the type of little village English people think of when they think of England also as it's a popular day trip from London, being only 2 hours by train.

I can't say I did anything all that special...just walked around...viewed the local church and cemetery....saw Rye Castle (which was built as defence against the French back when Rye had a harbor and the water hadn't receded).

Mostly, I was on a mission to find these dang fox and hound hunting scene coasters my stepmother wanted. I searched in every shop in Rye and found every other type of coaster but no fox and hound (yes, I think hunting is wrong and cruel but she asked for them).

Alot of shop owners even seemed quizzical when I asked for them. I guess they never got the memo that every American thinks that's all that British people do...wear riding clothes and hunt foxes in between tea and scone breaks of course.

Rye is noted for having many famous authors live there, including Henry James. Additionally I learned that Paul McCartheny lived/lives there and his children went to school there. Rye is also the hometown of Bob Marley's ancestors (what did we do before Wikipedia?).

It was definitely worth the visit, but this is the kind of village you want someone to walk around with (since that's about all there is to do) and I was solo. Sigh.

The day I went there did seem to be some kind of motorcycle rally or something which was slightly inconguous with the surroundings.

If you do drive, there is a public parking lot by the big windmill, which was so much nicer than when I went to St. Ives in Cornwall. Because there was no parking in that town and the streets wers so small and it was so crazy to drive, I just drove right outta there without stopping. And then had 3 big drinks when I finally got back to my B and B!

Bexhill-on-Sea, England

My final destination of this part of the trip was Hastings but since the recreation of the Battle of Hastings was on, the nearest room I could get was in Bexhill-on-Sea, another...wait for it....English seaside town. How many can there be in 1 country?

I wouldn't recommend the B and B I stayed at (Bexhill B and B) only because it was not close to downtown. It was a good 30 minute walk, although this eventually led me to discover a great pub, called The Bull Inn. It was a decent 10 minute walk also but I met the nicest people there, including the bartender who was obsessed with American football and was actually a barrister in London during the week.

The best way to describe Bexhill is that it's a Victorian bathing spot. It definitely seemed dated. Since I was staying 2 nights, I hung out a lot at the strip mall down the street from my hotel. I love checking out grocery stores in foreign cities and there was a Tesco I spent alot of time at.

Bournemouth, Dorset, England

Heading back to the East Coast I decided to stay the night in Bournemouth which is (another) English sea side tourist destination. I stayed at the Hermitage Hotel which really did have the perfect location but was difficult to locate at first. It was across from the pier and very close to the center of town. Bournemouth is interesting in that they built a huge central park in the center of town (obviously not as big as NYC's) and it had several cafe's, a balloon ride for the kids and places just to hang out and relax.

Since the beach is the biggest draw and I was there in October, I mostly just walked around. It seemed like a nice place to live if not a little boring. Supposedly there is major night life but since I'm not 21 anymore and I was single this didn't really interest me (nor did listening to bad Brit Techno).

Iwalked the pier both at night and before breakfast. It really is nice but nothing to write home about. It was kind of weird seeing some homeless teenagers living under the boardwalk in the morning. One thing I thought was interesting were the beach huts. I had read about these old in English novels but they are a series of little huts you can rent by the hour/day. You use them to change into your bathing suit I guess but I peeked in the windows and they all had mini stoves with tea pots in order to make tea. How British. Not my preferred choice of beverage at the beach....

Tintagel, Cornwall. Home of King Arthur

In my previous visits to England, I never made it to Tintagel Castle, so I was determined this time. I think this was actually the first castle I've ever seen in England, odd for a country known for having produced so many of them.

It's rumored to be the birthplace of King Arthur (of Round Table fame), which means that it draws a lot of people who sell and buy crystals, magic balls, wizard figurines and healing stones.

I did however find a "Only Fools and Horses" mug though. Who knew they even made such things?

It's a cute little town but definitely not much to do besides check out the castle. There are only 5 hotels in town. I stayed at The Wootens which was nice enough (although it looked like it was straight out of the 70's or something) but if I did it again I would definitely stay at The Cornishman which made my hotel look like a haven for marauding seniors.

The main avenue is Fore Street and that's where all the shops and restaurants are, as well as the path to the castle. It's a very long steep paved path but you can pay for a guy in a Jeep to drive you both ways (seriously, who was this guy? I don't think he worked for the village since he was wearing shorts and sneakers and his car was just a beat up old truck---free enterprise, you gotta love it).

There is a little snack bar for anyone who wants to stop and have a tea or coffee.

When you finally see the castle, it's a little underwhelming since it really is only ruins but it is very majestic because it's so isolated and wind-swept. You can see how it became incorporated in the Arthur saga.

What I didn't realize before I came, was that the freaking castle is way out on a headland and you have to climb this little staircase across the ocean in order to get near the castle (and then climb some more around the outside all the while risking possible sudden death by fall). There are no ropes or safety devices I could see. I'm not a baby but c'mon..this place would never fly in the States.

Of course I punked out. I didn't want the next day's headlines to read, "Dumb American Tourist Falls Off Rock and Drowns".

I amused myself by seeing the parts of the castle/fort that didn't require an Evil Knieval stunt and called it a day.

Most of the rest of the day I spent just walking around, browsing in shops and stopping for the occaisonal cider. That night I went to The Cornishman for dinner and met a few locals, as well as the extremely elderly village drunk, who took a shine to me and promptly began sexually harassing me while he waited for his to-go order.

Thankfully, after it came, he mumbled something about getting on home and stumbled off into the sunset.

Why is it always me?

Port Isaac, Cornwall aka the Home of Doc Martin

If it's not enough that I like Agatha Christie, I'm also obsessed with Britcoms (from the 1970's on to today). One of the prettiest, although not my favorite, is a drama called Doc Martin which was a spin-off of a movie called, "Saving Grace (with Colin Ferguson)".

Doc Martin (yes like the boots) is set in a quaint seaside fishing village in Cornwall called Port Wenn. Imagine my surprise when I learned there is a real-life Port Wenn, only called Port Isaac.

I drove the hour or so from Land's End and as if a precursor of things to come, my GPS F'ed up. Basically, I ended up driving through 20 miles of cornfields, one lane roads with high hedgeroes on each side (if an oncoming car approaches, one of you needs to find a lay by and pull over...or reverse until you find one and yes, this happened to me), and cow fields.

Convinced I was going the wrong way, I finally headed down this steep tiny cow path and all of a sudden, the village appeared.

I thought driving with other cars coming at you along the hedgeroes was bad. I was completely unprepared for what you do when another car comes at you and you are cemented in by two 13th century buildings.

After a long stare down, the other driver must have figured out I had absolutely no idea what to do so he gave way. Thankfully, this was almost opposite my hotel, The Old School (which is used in the Doc Martin series as the village school). Unthankfully, I had just passed the hotel, so I had to somehow turn around, among hordes of tourists and oncoming traffic. I just managed to turn around and nearly took out a sandwich board sign announcing the daily specials at the deli across the street.

Port Isaac is beautiful and isolated and amazing. But one night is just about enough. There's not a lot to do there as the beach is a working beach for fishing boats and not suitable for swimming and there aren't any museums or shops except tacky souvenier shops.

So, I drank. And walked around. And then drank some more Cornish cider.

I met some local people who were nice enough to hang out with me and tell me a little about the town.

Apparently, the town is completely dividied over Doc Martin. Half love the show because it brings in tons of tourists (they told me tourism went up 90% since the show. Especially with Australians who apparently come there in droves to see where Doc Martin lives. When I was there I met a father/son team from Richmond, Virginia who came because of the show).

While the other half hate it....I'm actually not sure why...I guess the added tourists and the annoyance of having to deal with TV crews.

I hung out at the Golden Lion, which is a pub but also a nice restaurant. (damn hyper link isn't working but it's a beautiful place right downtown...google it).

On an odd note, one of the regulars stopped in. He's a guy in his late 20's, early 30's and he had no freaking bottom front teeth. And this didn't apparently bother him or anyone else (I'm pretty sure he had a girlfriend). He looked like a 5th grader who had just lost their bottom teeth and are proud of it (except this guy was shaved bald and pretty rotund).

What is it with the English and teeth? I'm sorry but sometimes stereotypes really are true....

Land's End, Cornwall

One of the other places I really wanted to visit in England was Land's End. Just the name alone is romantic. Land's End lies at the most westerly point of England and there really is only one hotel to stay at...the appropriately yet perhaps unimaginately named Land's End Hotel.

(see hotel at far right)

It's about 9 miles south of Penzance (yes, that Penzance..again a big thank you to Andrew Lloyd Weber or whoever wrote that damn thing). The closest other village is Sennan, which by calling it a village is very generous.

It consists of a bar, post office/general store, small grocery, mechanic and one other bar which is a long climb down a cliff (well, maybe more accurately very steep hill). It is however, very famous for surfing and I was told that in the summer it's insanely packed (like a 2-hour wait for dinner in the pubs...apparently Land's End is a very popular family/teenager vacation spot).

To get to Land's End, you literally follow the road until it ends. The hotel/tourist center is the only thing there and you can pay for the day to park and explore or stay the night.

Caveat: There isn't much to do here but that definitely adds to the mystique. I had thought there would be a small town or something but Sennen (at a mile away) is the closest. So what is there to do? Walk, hike and birdwatch. All of which are fun but for 1 night at most. I unfortunately had booked 2 nights.

Night comes early to Cornwall (and the gray marine layer which adds to the dusk) and I pretty much just hung out at the restaurant on site and in my room. Note to future self: Do not drink too many Cornish Rattler ciders (damn that shit is super strong!) and accost other hotel guests.

The village of Sennen does have an interesting old church (complete with a plaque of the names of all the villagers who served in World War 1 and World War 2).

The most interesting thing to me was the First and Last Inn which is one of the 2 aforementioned bars in town. Depending on your viewpoint, it would be the first or last inn you would see. It apparently was a haven for smugglers and other ne'er do wells back in the day.

I just found it full of chatty old men (who for some reason had an obsession with watching Judge Judy reruns) and a bartender from Sheffield who was on the run from the law). Go figure.