A day at the market

Our first sight this morning after opening the bedroom curtains was rain falling. Gentle rain was falling from an overcast grey sky. A little later we heard the forecast for the day was rain showers throughout the day over the whole area.
We amended plans and decided today would be a quiet day. Between the showers we would take an opportunity to walk to the post office to buy a newspaper and a money order to pay my parking fine. Later, perhaps, we would walk downtown.

We accomplished the first objective without getting wet then waited for another shower to end before gathering jackets and umbrellas for the half hour walk to downtown.

The first stop was Wellington market, a mostly indoor market that is open four days a week for vendors to sell everything from fresh meat and produce, eggs and cheese to breads and cakes made that morning to second hand books to small electronics to framed prints and photographs. The meat from the butchers and the vegetables from the greengrocers come from local farms and are of excellent quality, always fresh and generally cheaper than comparable items in the local supermarkets.

The market was quite crowded and Mum explained this was normal, in her opinion the market was the only reason Wellington town center was surviving as a shopping destination and fending off the assault from the large supermarkets – Tesco, Asda, Sainsbury’s and Morrison’s - in retail parks on the edge of town. The market has been In Wellington since the early 13th century, long may it continue.
We bought two individual cakes made with fresh cream for Patricia and I and a custard pie for Mum before going for morning coffee in a pub/coffee shop/restaurant on the edge of the square. I resisted the urge to try another local ale and instead ordered a latte.

After coffee we walked along the high street and window shopped. In a second hand store next to Sofia’s café I spied a framed old map of Shropshire for seven pounds fifty pence and could not resist the urge to buy it. I have no idea how we will carry the map home, but once we get it home it will make a great addition to one of the walls in my library. We also found a new washing machine for Mum with a great delivery and set-up charge since her 15 year old machine had given up the ghost yesterday morning.

We walked home past the church where I went to Sunday School as a boy. The church, built in MDCCXV, looks no different from when I attended services in 1963-64.
From the church we walked home through gently falling rain. Within a few minutes of getting home we made tea and coffee and sat down to enjoy our cakes. They were delicious.

The rain kept falling so we stayed home to read and write until early evening when it was time to visit Derek and Dawn’s for dinner.

And what a wonderful dinner it was. Croft original sherry for an aperitif, a superbly cooked and presented roast pork loin with steamed carrots, green beans and snow peas and potatoes sliced and cooked in the oven in a cream, basil, butter and garlic sauce. Dinner was served with brown gravy and accompanied by a delicious light white wine from Wollembi winery in South Australia. Dinner was capped with a wonderful desert of home-made cheese cake. During dinner we were regaled by stories from Derek and Dawn’s travels overseas. Delicious food, excellent drinks and interesting conversation. What more could we ask for? It was a delightful evening.

Wellington Parish Church constructed in 1754.
The clock in Wellington Town Square. the clock was erected as part of the Millenium celebrations
Mum buying fresh cream cakes from her "boyfriend' at the market
At Wellington market. A market has been held continuously in Wellington since the 13th century.

A drive to a pub, a castle and a lake

We woke late to a beautiful day. Through the windows of Derek and Dawn’s spare bedroom we watched sun and blue sky occasionally break through a heavy layer of cumulus clouds scudding across the sky. The Brits thought it was warm at about 55F, though we still thought it was cool, so we sat in the conservatory and planned the day which was to involve lunch since it was too late for breakfast.

First we picked up mum and once again we used our rental car since Derek’s BMW will only hold four people and Dawn’s Mini Cooper only holds three. We drove 40 miles to Ellesmeer on narrow secondary roads that were barely wide enough for two cars to pass each other. A long time ago, in another life I think, I travelled these roads in my Morris Minor or Mini at fairly high speeds without fear. Now – a lot older and perhaps a little wiser, and with little experience on roads like these for the past 20 years – the journey in a rental car was a somewhat nerve racking experience for me as a driver though the passengers appeared to take it well.

Just passed Ellesmeer we stopped at Ye Olde Boot Inn in Whittington, a country pub with a restaurant. Derek had chosen well. This was another chance to sample a Real Ale and this time I tried Robinson’s 4.5% A.B.V bitter. Delicious. The beer washed down a lunch of steak and ale pie, boiled potatoes and vegetables. The food was also excellent.

After lunch we walked across the road and explored Whittington Castle. The castle was built in the 13th century to help guard the English border from Welsh insurgents. Most of the moat is still in place and the outer wall and one of five circular turrets remain standing and there are boards explaining the structure and the family activities at various points around the structure.

This castle was small and designed primarily as a house for the local lord. The mistress of the castle kept a herb and flower garden outside the castle walls and built an observation mount so she could look out over the garden. To get to the garden requires the descent of a steep path from the main part of the castle across what was the moat and then up a flight of steps to the observation room. Derek led the way in a train to help Mum down the slope.

One of the ways the unruly kept in order was to place law breakers into the stocks where town’s people could throw rotten tomatoes and eggs at the miscreant.

After exploring the castle and grounds we drove back to Ellesmeer and parked by Ellesmeer Lake so we could explore the gardens and woods around the lake. This area is one of the few places in Britian where giant Redwoods grow, though they are not nearly as big as the Redwoods in Northern California.

On the way back to Mother’s house we stopped at the Old Orleton, a pub on the outskirts of Wellington where I sampled a Hobsons “Town Crier” 4.5 A.B.V. Real Ale.

Derek and graham walking and talking on the bank of Ellesmeer.
Patricia in the stocks waiting for a barrage of rotten eggs and old tomatoes from the townsfolk
Patricia in Front of Whittington Castle
In the forest by the Redwoods on the banks of Ellesmeer
The "Train" to help Mum down the slope from the castle to the steps leading to the observation mound.
Lunch at Ye Olde Boot Inn

The Pub sign for Ye Old Boot Inn. The castle is in the background.

Cradle of the Industrial Revolution - Ironbridge

We started the day in true English fashion with a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, toast and marmalade and tea cooked by Mum.
Nicely rounded we drove to Derek and Dawn’s house to meet them, wish him Happy Birthday and go out for the day.
A 45 minute drive on narrow country roads brought us to the Severn Valley and the birth place of the Industrial Revolution. We parked the car in a public car park on the outskirts of Ironbridge and walked along the road next to the river to the town of Ironbridge, appropriately named because it is the site of the world’s first bridge constructed entirely of iron. We walked along the river bank, under the bridge, then climbed steps back to the road so we could walk across the bridge. We declined the opportunity to buy a T-shirt proclaiming we had “crossed the world’s first iron bridge”.
After visiting the small museum in the bridge toll house we walked to the White Hart pub and restaurant where we sampled real ale from the Ironbridge Brewery and ate fish (cod) and chips and mushy peas.
(Real Ale is a generic name given to bears that are brewed using only water, hops, barley and yeast in the same way beer used to be produced before beer making became an industrial process. Most Real Ale is brewed by regional micro breweries producing 1,000 – 5,000 gallons a week and the flavor in the beer is obtained by using hops and barley and yeast from different regions or countries and by the minerals and salts in the local water. The carbonation in the beer is from the brewing process and the beer is pulled from a barrel by an old fashioned hand pump. The beers are served at the cellar temperature of approximately 58F).
Walking back to the car we stopped at the Ironbridge Brewery, talked to the owner and bought some bottled beer to drink later and also to add to my collection of bottled beers.
When we got back to the car it appeared I had apparently parked illegally and had been given a ticket that is to cost me 15 pounds for parallel parking when I should have parked nose-in. There were lots of reasons to dispute the charge but given our short time in the UK this was probably futile.
Dropped mum at home and we went to spend the night with Derek and Dawn at their house. They fed us a lovely supper. After supper Derek opened a bottle of Champagne to toast his birthday. After an hour or so Dawn and Patricia went to bed and Derek and I solved the problems of the world with the help of half of a bottle of Lagavulin Isle of Islay Scotch whiskey.

Mum, Derek, Dawn and Patricia in front of the World's first Iron Bridge.

Outside the Ironbridge brewery

Derek, Dawn and Graham in Ironbridge.

Patricia and Graham on the Ironbridge

At Derek and Dawn's for dinner.

Derek, Dawn and Mum on the Ironbridge

Houston to the UK - The Journey to Mum's

Friday, July 31st 2009

The hallmark of a good start to a trip is that it is completely uneventful. This was a good start. The drive to the airport, parking the car at Fast Park, checking in at Continental, passing through security, grabbing a bite to eat at a sandwich joint in Terminal E and boarding the plane were only slightly marred by the rudeness of a Continental employee at the terminal counter who barked at us to stand in line so we could hand in a pre-printed form volunteering to take a later flight if they were over booked. We decided the potential reward wasn’t worth standing in line, so we went to the sandwich place for something to eat and drink.

There were more people in the airport than I have seen for a long time. We boarded the plane on time and found our seats on the last row – the only place in the cheap seats where there were only two seats in the row - and the plane gradually filled up with people. Severe weather in other parts of the country had delayed several incoming flights so we sat on the ground for an hour waiting for connecting passengers to arrive for their flight to London. When we took off an hour late, every seat on the plane was taken.

The trade winds were blowing hard and the pilot announced our flight would only take 8.5 hours rather than the scheduled 9.5 hours, so since we were a captive audience, we sat back and relaxed and for the next 8.5 hours we drank a little, ate a little, slept a little, watched a movie and regularly checked the GPS tracking to see where the plane was as it traversed the Atlantic.

Saturday, August 1st 2009

Saturday was a day of tribulations and Patricia had to keep reminding me that we did not have to be in Scotland until Wednesday and everything before then was fluid, so we managed the trials of the day with good humor and a few laughs.

Here are a few pointers for anyone contemplating hiring a car from an off-airport car-hire agency.

1. Our car-hire company was located in the Ibis hotel and we were instructed to take the “Hoppa 6” bus from terminal 1, 2 or 3 to get to the Ibis.

2. Terminal 4 at London Heathrow airport is approximately 1,000 miles from the central area of London’s Heathrow airport, where terminals 1, 2 and 3 are located.

3. There is a free underground rail service from Terminal 4 to Terminals 1, 2 and 3.

4. From the landing gate in terminal 4 to the underground station and then from underground station to the to the Hoppa bus stop requires navigating several miles of pedestrian tunnels with confusing signs for the terminals and no signs at all for the Hoppa bus stop.

5. Change dollars into pounds in the terminal since the bus fare is four pounds and they don’t take dollars.

6. Bring the leaflet issued by MasterCard that serves as written proof that your credit card covers CDW insurance for hire cars so you won’t waste 2 hours of your time convincing the agent and making frantic calls to MasterCard in the US so the MasterCard person can persuade the agent that coverage is standard.

7. Even after all the telephone calls have apparently convinced the agent of that car is insured be prepared to leave a significant deposit (of 750 pounds for a 310 pounds car rental).

8. Concentrate extra-hard when leaving the parking lot or the first 100 yards of your journey will be on the wrong side of the road – they drive on the left in the UK.

We landed at 9:30am and originally planned to eat lunch in Oxford. The hassles with our rental car, and lots of traffic on London’s outer loop – the M25 - seriously affected our timetable.

After pulling off the M25 and getting on the A40 traveling north-west the beautiful countryside lightened our mood, but by 1:30pm we were still 30 miles south of Oxford and feeling hungry. By chance we pulled into the parking lot of The Lambert Arms - a promising looking country inn with a sign outside advertising lunches. It turned out to be an excellent place to stop. The inn had a small dining room and a well stocked bar. The food was excellent –two types of homemade bread with homemade butter and dips, lamb burgers without the bun with salad and wedges of fried potatoes- and the real ale was delightful. So, refreshed and once again in great spirits we left the restaurant and headed north.
A slight detour through the center of Oxford with stops at to look for a digital photo frame for Mum’s birthday present took a little longer than expected in heavy rain so at 5:00pm we pulled into a motorway service center for a cup of coffee to stay awake and to call mum and say that we were about 2 hours away.

The Costa coffee was excellent, though they do not know what a caramel macchiato is, but trying to use a public phone box proved challenging, perhaps because we were not completely sure of mum’s number so I gave up trying and used the US cell phone to call.

This lesson showed us that we needed a local cell phone so we stopped at Asda – the UK supermarket chain owned by Walmart - close to mum’s and with the excellent help of an young Asda employee in the electronics department we bought a T-Mobil cell phone for use while we are here and we also managed to find the digital photo frame that had proved elusive in Oxford.

This was also our first introduction to the “chip” on UK credit cards. The chip contains information about the card holder and a pin number that unlocks the card for charging. The store credit card reader extracts information from the chip, the owner of the card types in the pin number and the charge is made. Cards that have to be swiped are no longer used in the UK. It took some time for the store clerk to figure out how to take a credit card that did not contain a chip, but he prevailed, found how to swipe the card on his card reader, and the charge was made.

We arrived at mum’s at 8pm and were rewarded with a delightful meal of roast lamb, roast and boiled potatoes, mint sauce, steamed vegetables and meringue with strawberries, all washed down with a Wolf Blass Cabernet Shiraz.

Panama City day 10 - Sunday

day 9

Quindio Day 9 - Saturday

A little over 100 km north of Buga, close to the city of Armenia is the Parque Nacional Del Café – The National Coffee Park. This is a theme park for coffee growing and production combined with rides for children and adults alike.

For curious coffee drinkers the park is a showcase for growing, harvesting, shelling, drying and roasting coffee beans, mainly from Colombian plants but also from plants native to Africa and Asia.
It is fascinating to see old and new methods for extracting the coffee bean from it’s two outer shells, washing the mucus from the bean...
drying the beans in the Colombian sun, reusing the bean casings as fertilizer or as fuel for roasting.

I may be the only person in America who didn’t know that coffee beans are exported as virgins. That is, the beans are roasted to local taste in the country where the coffee processed and consumed. The only coffee beans roasted in Colombia are those used for local consumption of coffee.

Coffee beans pulled from the bush have a tough red outer shell. The outer shell is removed and a sticky mucus is washed from the beans before they are dried on long racks in the sun or in concrete sheds that trap hot air.

After drying the bean’s paper thin inner shell has a light vanilla color.

The dried beans are then tumbled with rotating drums to remove the inner shell revealing grey beans that are then packed in burlap sacks for export to the Americas, Asia or Europe where the beans are roasted to perfection and sold to consumers.

To attract families the park includes a roller coaster, a go-kart track, a water chute and several staged revues with coffee themes. There are other walking trails that are well signposted in both Spanish and English through a bamboo forest, a replica of an Indian burial ground and over a suspension bridge. Cable cars, a chair lift and a railway connect many parts of the park for those weary of walking and there are places to rest, eat Colombian food and – of course – drink Juan Valdez coffee.

This was a very enjoyable day.

Buga Day 8 - Friday

Buga is a small city 90 km north east of Cali with a population of about 250,000. It was originally the main center of Valle de Cauca – the route to the port city of Buenaventura on the Pacific Ocean is easier from Buga - before Cali wrested away control of the regional government.

The city is an agricultural town with factories producing glass, soy cooking oil and sugar from cane. Buga has managed to retain a center that is reminiscent of Southern France and northern Spanish towns with wide doorways in buildings on narrow streets.
The wooden doors open to allow horse and mounted rider access to an inner courtyard surrounded by rooms and with a central fountain. Here the rider dismounted and tethered his horse to the fountain.
The rooms around the courtyard were stables and servants quarters and the cooking areas. An open archway then led to second courtyard where there was a garden around which family day rooms and bedrooms were arranged.

Buga had, and still has, a number of rich families. The houses in the city used to belong to the rich until some of them moved out - with the introduction of the horseless carriage – to the surrounding hillsides. Families apparently did not mingle much and there is a joke around town that the Papaya trees in many family gardens were planted so that the backward children of the families who interbred could be tied to the tree while daughter visited mother. The details of this story could not be confirmed though it should be noted that there are a number of Buga families with hyphenated family names where both names are the same.

Buga is now famous as the site of La Basilica de Milagroso, where there is a life-size statue of Christ on the cross that is said to have been found by a lady washing clothes in the Guadelajara River in 1590. When found the statue was very small, but over the next five years it grew to be the life size statue of Christ nailed to the cross that is now interred in a special room behind the alter of the cathedral.

The discovery and subsequent growth of the statue was, of course, deemed to be a miracle by the Bishops and Archbishops of the time and a church was built to house the statue. Word soon spread and pilgrims come from all over Colombia to visit the statue and petition for miracles.

So many came that a much larger cathedral was built with a large open area covering three city blocks and a statue of Mary Magdalene in front of the church.

Every seven years during holy week the statue is carried on a dais by four elders of the church and paraded through town with a great deal of ceremony. Sometimes, however, the statue cannot be lifted however hard the elders try and a replica has to be substituted in the parade.

Buga is a delightful town with a town square and the obligatory statue to a Spanish Conquistadore. It is well worth a visit with a stop at Leo’s Pizza, where the ebullient owner makes and excellent pizza and serves it with panache.