The underground train stopped, and the doors parted.
“Mind the gap,” came the familiar automated voice.
John and I scrambled onto the platform at Paddington Station hand in hand with our usual reply, “Minding the gap.”
It was our third day in London and our group of eight knew the drill by heart. “There’s a lot to see in a little bit of time, so keep it moving,” said the human dynamo who was our guide and friend. He darted in and out amongst tourists and early morning commuters. Three days of focusing on the two green stripes on the back of his jacket, and panicking when they disappeared. I had begun seeing green stripes in my sleep. We called his attention to other groups following guides who brandished tall, colorful umbrellas — looking like a cross between Mary Poppins and the Pied Piper. Our leader assured us he would not be doing that.
“There he is!” someone would cry out excitedly, after we had paused to take photographs of a flower bed, or a red phone booth, or a statue. “In the next block!” We were off and running. Ever so often our ‘bouncing ball’ would turn around and quickly count heads with his finger, like a kindergarten teacher on a field trip to the zoo: 1-2-3-4-5-6-7. Or see a sign for ‘Millie’s Cookies’ and come to a screeching halt.
Somehow we survived the intersections — though my sister and I had a close call when we looked left instead of right. We scrambled back to the
curb as a red double-decker bus bore down on us. “These London drivers don’t cut tourists any slack!” said one of our friends. In a town where cyclists have been referred to as ‘organ donors,’ we were cautious.
Thanks to our leader, who has studied and lived in the densely populated, cosmopolitan city (where it’s always rush hour,) we did see a lot in a short time. He mentored us every step of the way.
“Travel light,” he advised early on. “Just one carry-on luggage apiece — plus a hand-bag is all you’ll need; otherwise we’ll lose precious time at baggage claim.” He recommended packing old, worn clothes and discarding them.”
He was speaking 
my husband’s language. Getting by on less was a way of life for John. Two weeks before the trip, when I was still complaining about ‘one small suitcase for eleven days,’ he smiled smugly and lifted the lid of his carry-on. “Everything’s here,” he said, “with room to spare.”
On top of his neatly rolled clothes were what looked like tattered rags. “I found these old briefs in the back of the drawer. I’ll wear each pair a couple of times then throw them away.”
They were in deplorable condition, but at least they’d be thrown away, which is more than I had accomplished. Hopefully, security wouldn’t open the suitcase.
On day five, we climbed aboard a Globus bus with thirty other travelers for a six day tour of England, as well as a bit of Scotland and Wales.
John and I took out our camera and viewed the digital images from our whirlwind days in London. To the history teacher in our family, London had been a historical exposition; he had even gone out on his own one day, traveling the Tube and staying at each exhibit as long as it took to read every word. The highlights for me were Evensong at Westminster Abbey and the pealing bells of St. Paul’s.
Whereas London w
as comprised largely of foreigners, we were able to mix with the locals in the villages. As our Globus guide told us, “England is what you see when you leave London.” Quaint villages are from the pages of Austen and Bronte, and Public TV. It was like coming home. Pubs in the Cotswolds had especially inviting names: The Horse and Hound, The Snooty Fox, The Horse and Ale…
In the lush countryside, the Blackthorn and Hawthorn hedges, dating back as early as the 1700s, were just coming into leaf. Fields were vibrant with prickly yellow gorse, silver heather, and rape weed. Just as I had imagined them, the Yorkshire Dales, with picturesque stone walls, were host to huge flocks of wooly creatures. At one point, I’m pretty sure I saw James Herriot and Zeigfried in their wellies walking amongst the lambing ewes.
The only drama came in Edinburgh Castle’s Throne Room. When I thought no one was looking, I quickly leaned across a thick, braided rope and caressed the velvety sea
t that was last sat upon by King George VI. I couldn’t help myself. I panicked when I heard a voice saying, “I saw that.” The elderly American smiled and promised me that what happens in Edinburgh stays in Edinburgh.
English cuisine is not known for being wildly adventurous. That said, we pretty much ate our way through England, rarely passing a tea room without sampling the scones or a bowl of freshly made vegetable/lentil soup. And who could pass up fish and chips at the Sherlock Holmes Pub, or the melt-in-your-mouth cucumber sandwiches at Betty’s? Historically, there are very few documented cases of malnutrition on bus tours. We even tried haggis in Scotland — once.
When showers pelted the bus wind
ows, we were informed that there’s no such thing as bad weather — only inadequate clothing. It has been said that, unlike some vacation destinations where you can sit and get a tan — in England, you can sit and rust.
As promised, my husband’s frayed, holey underwear is now scattered across Great Britain. He has decided we’re going to Ireland and rent a car next year. An 80-year-old man and his 75-year-old wife who have been known to get lost when they drive out of their community are going to a strange country — to drive a strange car — on a different side of the street. What could possibly go wrong?
19 Comments
Mrs. Rowe,
What made me chuckle was the comment about Mr. Rowe’s underwear scattered all over England. My friend, whom I traveled with, left an article of clothing at every hotel we stayed at during our trip (we also went to Paris). I told him he may as well leave his suitcase too since there aren’t any clothes left for him to take home. Have a wonderful time in Ireland! That’s on my list too 
This was such a fun read! I went to London for the first time in October 2011 and so many of your experiences mirrored my own. “Mind the Gap” was definitely one and we too responded with “minding the gap”, I always caught myself looking left instead of right while crossing the streets, and then, of course, the weather. It wouldn’t be London without rain
WOW , John must have been reading and taking travel packing lessons from Rick Steaves. I am impressed, one carry on bag, good job. And Peg, a very good read, as always.
Love, Lefty
You could be a travel writer, Mrs. Rowe. Fantastic read – I enjoyed it very much. Thank you!
Mrs. Rowe, I enjoyed your travel blog immensely. I could definitely picture myself falling behind the tour group because I know I would be the one lagging behind to photograph the flower beds or be standing in line at Millie’s Cookies. For me, your most charming words were “hand in hand” as you and Mr. Rowe were “minding the gap”. By all means, travel to Ireland with your dear hubby for another exciting adventure.
Mrs. Rowe,
Just as Mom and Dad described it although your version is a bit wittier ;.) Now with their photo on the www there’s no stopping them. So glad you all got away on this fabulous trip. You should all plan to wander aimlessly through Ireland….it would make for a GREAT blog upon your return!!
Stacy
Peg,
You’ve done it again. Captured many days of grueling travel and made it seem like a breeze. I wish you could have gone on for a lot longer piece. It was fun reviewing all those happenings with you and I could have gone on and on. Now I see why you were taking all those copious notes. You got it all right on and I’m sure there’s a lot more material there you could have used. Perhaps a follow-up? Too bad you couldn’t have recited Julian’s final monolog to us about airport travel. A great read, and as always a wonderfully written story. Thanks.
Ann
I so love of anyone’s travels . Pix are even better. Movie’s are excellent . Have a great time and record those memories. .
I am so glad you and John had a wonderful time and I knew you would get the traveling bug. Fix the arch and off you go. I felt like I was on the trip with you. Don’t forget to buy John new underwear for Ireland. MES
Well done, Peg. I feel lucky to be here reading your blog (as opposed to being an “organ donor” in London)! Great trip – wonderful memories! Jan
“As promised, my husband’s frayed, holey underwear is now scattered across Great Britain”, the absolute funniest thing I’ve read!!! Belly laughed out loud!!!!
Thanks for sharing your trip with us Mrs. Rowe.
Thanks once again for sharing your adventure over seas.
Made me feel as though I was right there with you. Ireland off the beaten trail would truely make for a sequil to this amusing and enlightening trip. Continue with that bucket list of yours. Really appreciate the stories.
Maureen
Oh Mrs. Rowe, how you make it all come to life – thank you.
I’ve never been to Great Britain, but have been 5 times to Ireland. Though beautiful, it is rather backwards; but the people are amazingly kind, so getting lost is not as scary as it should be.
Plus, my brother lives there and has become Irish, accent and everything. When you go I’ll give you his number…
Thank you again for sharing bits of your life with us.
Pia
Sounds like you had a wonderful trip. Thanks for another fantastic blog with beautiful pictures to go with it. Seeing them bought back many memories…
Thanks Mrs. Rowe for your entertaining dialogue of your travels – excellent idea of your husband’s, wear your old clothes & leave them behind, saves on washing & allows more room for the packaging of newly aquired mommentos of another country for the safe trip home!
Again you amaze me with your ability for writing. Love your story about your trip. God Bless.
Sounds like you had a wonderful trip. I say go to Ireland and rent that car. If you get lost, you will most likely see the best parts of Ireland you would have other-wised missed. You only live once, go for it.
Thanks for sharing.
Love your travel log. You made me smile when I imagined the thought of your husbands old underwear all over the UK. I can see where Mike gets his great sense of humor. Keep the blogs coming. You are fabulous.
Thank you for sharing your adventure with us, Mrs. Rowe. Love the pictures. London is beautiful. Hope I’ll get the chance to go there someday.
I must say Mr. Rowe is quite a smart traveler. Good idea with the underwear.
~Cyn
I love this blog! It made me long to return to England and Scotland and explore more. It brings back so many great memories. Sounds like you had a wonderful time.
Thanks Mrs. Rowe for sharing it!