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Welcome to the “Georgia Wasp…”

This blog is modeled on the Carolina Israelite. That was an old-time newspaper – more like a personal newsletter – written and published by Harry Golden. Back in the 1950s, people called Harry a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.” (For his work on the Israelite.)

That’s now my goal as well. To be a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.”

For more on the blog-name connection, see the notes below.

In the meantime:

July 6, 2025 – To catch you up, last May a companion and I visited England, from the 7th to the 21st. See links in the Notes for the trip’s purpose and progress, but meanwhile: Less than five weeks from now I’ll be flying back to London. There I’ll meet up with my two “Camino” hiking partners, brother Tom and his wife Carol. After a couple days getting settled in, we’ll take the train to Winchester. Two days after that we’ll start the long hike on the Pilgrims’ Way, from there to Canterbury Cathedral. All of which means I need to finish writing posts about the May visit – that Mid-May “Recon” – before beginning the next adventure in England.

In the last episode “we” got as far as the White Swan Hotel in Stratford-on-Avon, late Saturday night, May 10. (This was after leaving an updated “Much Ado About Nothing” at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre – “Waterside” – at 11:00 that night, then heading north – on Waterside – into the alien darkness – “not knowing where we’d lay our weary heads.”)

But things worked out, and the White Swan was a real treat. That continued into Sunday morning, before we headed to the 10:00 service at Shakespeare’s Church – Holy Trinity. (“Stratford-on-Avon’s oldest building,” on the banks of the Avon, and one of England’s most visited churches.) In the Swan’s breakfast nook I shared some food porn with folks back home. (Using two terms not often seen in one sentence; food porn and English Breakfast.) The Swan’s nook offered a multitude of items, including the classic “baked beans on toast.” I forewent that option and instead chose the French toast topped with fruit and some kind of yogurt. My conclusion? “Delish!” (Another word not often used in connection with “English breakfast.”)

After that we walked the 25 minutes or so to the 10:00 Holy Trinity service. (The post London, Liverpool and Stratford had a picture of me with the church in the background.) After that we stopped for lunch at Barnabys fish and chips, 22 Waterside, then “we” picked up some fudge at a street festival. (I certainly didn’t need it.) Then back to the Swan and a change of clothes.

In more casual dress we met friend Jane at the Shakespeare’s Birthplace museum about 2 pm. The visit included some old-timey-dressed performers doing bits from Shakespeare plays that involved some crowd participation. (Luckily I didn’t get volunteered.) We then followed Jane to her new flat down the street. (The afternoon before – before the hotel reservation “cock up” – we stopped by the two-story flat she was moving from.) Then headed back to the hotel.

Later that afternoon I took a walk. First, east on Bridge Street over the Avon River, then a bit more east down Banbury Road, then backtracked to the riverside park. (“The Recreation Ground,” including the Stratford-on-Avon Bandstand.) From there down the riverside footpath to the Lucy’s Mill footbridge, back across the Avon. From there I followed the footpath up past Holy Trinity – from the other end – and on back up to the White Swan.

My appetite restored, we had dinner at the hotel’s restaurant. A great shared meal including roast chicken, roasted root vegetables and gravy, and Yorkshire pudding. (Which I thought was a dessert, but no. “Not sweet, a savory crispy bread.”) There’s more detail in the Notes about this “no it’s not really a dessert even though the name makes it sound that way!” (Which illustrates the joy of discovery on your travels.) The hotel staff also showed us some things about the White Swan that had been uncovered during one of many renovations.

That included a framed readout of the hotel’s history, dating back to 1450. The readout included that after his 1582 marriage to Anne Hathaway, Shakespeare and Anne “would have drunk many a drink in the newly decorated tavern.” Another find? An ancient Bible in French open to the Book of Tobit. Yet another, a wall painting uncovered in a more recent renovation, this one in 1927. Research showed that the painting was commissioned by William Perrot, and could be dated “around 1560,” because Perrot and nearly all his family died “in the great plague in 1564.” The painting itself depicted the story of Tobias and the Angel, said to be a subject “doubly appropriate for a tavern of the day.” (Which I didn’t know.)

Next morning, Monday, May 12, we took the train from Stratford back to London, with a stop off at Winchester. (Where I’ll start my Pilgrims’ Way hike.) The goal was Winchester Cathedral, where the August hike will officially start. But first, we stopped for lunch at The Royal Oak Pub, the “oldest bar in England,” from at least 1002 A.D. (According to the chalkboard.) We checked out the Cathedral – and it was awesome – then headed back to the Oak. The Royal Oak that is, after an hour or two touring the Winchester Cathedral. (Lots of stuff to see.) This time I saw that “the Oak” had Estrella, a Spanish beer, on draft. (A brew I first learned to love on the original Camino Frances – French Way – from Pamplona, in 2017.) And by the way, I’ll have more pictures and commentary of Winchester in September, when I get back from the hike.

Finally, way later in the afternoon, we got on the train to London and eventually arrived at “The Place.” The place where I’d be laying my weary head down, for nine nights in a row. At Marlin Apartments, 9 Byng Street, in the Canary Wharf area. But first, the Ordeal…

The ride on the Elizabeth line – from Waterloo Station to the Jubilee metro station – was the ordeal, or more like a nightmare. 5:00 pm, big-city London, and the cars were jam-packed, all full of hot, sweaty, tired and anxious-to-get-home bodies. We had to let two trains go by, as they were packed like the proverbial sardines – chock full of people. Eventually we saw the third train a BIT less crowded, so we got on. Still, in all the jostling I got separated from my travel partner. She ended up surrounded – and jostled – by tall thuggish teenage lads, who refused to hold on to safety rails and giggled at the resulting bumper-car mayhem. I was luckier. I was surrounded – back against the sidewall – by a bevy of lovely young lasses. (Apparently, aside from the usual rush hour business-person traffic, a local high school just got out too.)

But wait, there was more! Google Maps says it’s a mere half-mile walk from Jubilee station down to 9 Byng Street. That’s assuming you head straight south, past Oysteria seafood, cross the New South Dock Bridge from Canary Wharf to the Isle of Dogs, down Admiral’s Way to Marsh Wall, then catty-corner over to Byng Street. That’s what Google said to do, but the only problem – construction! As in construction unanticipated by Google blocking the Google-suggested way. Meaning we had to backtrack up to Bank Street, then head west and on to negotiate the Marsh Wall Roundabout, then down the A1206, also known as West Ferry Road. All while lugging our bags behind us – and my “backpack on my back” – in what turned out to be a full mile hike, through a-bit-past-5:00 London rush-hour traffic.

Meaning, by the time we turned left onto Byng Street and found the lodging, we were hot, tired, hungry and bedraggled, not to mention in no mood to go back out looking for a place to have dinner. But somehow we got checked in, unpacked a bit and admired the nearby view of the Thames, through a gap in the tall buildings. And somehow I managed to find Westferry Food & Wine, a three-minute walk south in the Tower Hamlets building. There I found a bonanza: A slew of Ashoka Ready to Eat packets, including – for that night – Ashoka Aloo Matar, generally around £1.79 a packet. (We had two that night, to mix and match.) Also a prophylactic 16-ounce beer for right-away-me, and a good selection of ready-mixed gin-and-tonics-in-a-can. (A late-nigh libation I grew quite fond of over the next nine nights.)

For the morrow we planned a day-trip-by-train Oxford and sights like the Ashmolean Museum, but that’s a story for next time. Meanwhile, enjoy the view of Marlin Apartments, Canary Wharf. We had the seventh-floor apartment that included the ship-brow-like patio-balcony at the “toppermost of the poppermost” of the picture below. I later found out that it cost an arm and a leg – at least to me – but at a split cost of $100 a night, “actually not that bad – for London!”

Plus – I knew where I’d be laying my weary head for the next nine nights in a row…

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The upper image is courtesy of Royal Oak Winchester Uk – Image Results.

Re: The Notes for “the trip’s purpose and our progress.” Starting last March, Next up – Hiking the Canterbury Trail, then A mid-May “Recon,” On “London, Liverpool and Stratford,” and A return, to “London, Liverpool and Stratford?” 

Re: “Camino hike.” My definition: Any hike where at the end of each day you can look forward to a warm bed, hot shower and a cold beer. (You don’t have to pack a tent, sleeping bag, etc.)

For more on Shakespeare’s church see Church of the Holy Trinity, Stratford-upon-Avon – Wikipedia.

Re: Yorkshire pudding. The Britannica article included this about the classic old-fashioned British Sunday lunch: roast beef (not roast chicken), “typically cooked on a spit in a fireplace:“

Below the roast was a metal tray into which the fat and beef drippings fell. When the roast was done, a batter of egg, flour, and milk was poured into the tray, rising in the manner of a soufflé and forming a satisfying crunchy crust at its base where it had come into contact with the sizzling beef fat. The resulting pudding was then cut into squares, covered with gravy, and eaten as an appetizer or, less often, served alongside the roast, since it is considered a dish that should be served at once while hot.

And now you know more than I did when I first tasted this “Surprise, it’s not a dessert!” Also, Pudding – Wikipedia says it’s a type of food which can be – but doesn’t have to be – “a dessert served after the main meal or a savoury (salty or sweet, and spicy) dish, served as part of the main meal.”

Re: Backpack on my back. An allusion to The Happy Wanderer – Lyrics – Scout Songs.

Re: “Toppermost of the Poppermost.” A phrase from the Beatles’ early days, when times were tough. To cheer up the group John Lennon would say, “Where are we going, fellers?” The other three would respond, “To the top, Johnny!” Lennon: “And where’s that, fellers?” Response: “To the toppermost of the poppermost, Johnny!” See The one line John Lennon would use to cheer up The Beatles, and The Poppermost: The Poppermost Explained – Blogger. (I used the word “fellers” from Michael Shelden’s England, the 1960s, and the Triumph of the Beatles | Plus, from Great Courses.)

The lower image is courtesy of Marlin Apartments 9 Byng Street London Images – Image Results.

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Re:  The Israelite.  Harry Golden grew up in the Jewish ghetto of New York City, but eventually moved to Charlotte, North Carolina.  Thus the “Carolina Israelite.”  I on the other hand am a “classic 73-year-old “WASP” – White Anglo-Saxon Protestant – and live in north Georgia.  Thus the “Georgia Wasp.”    

Anyway, in North Carolina Harry wrote and published the “israelite” from the 1940s through the 1960s.  He was a “cigar-smoking, bourbon-loving raconteur.”  (He told good stories.) That also means if he was around today, the “Israelite would be done as a blog.”  But what made Harry special was his positive outlook on life.  As he got older but didn’t turn sour, like many do today.  He still got a kick out of life.  For more on the blog-name connection, see “Wasp” and/or The blog.

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As an extra added bonus, see If you want your 70s to be the most fulfilling decade of your life say goodbye to these 10 behaviors, for use in some future post.

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May 28, 2025 – Incidentally, that title could be sung to the tune “Hartford, Hereford and Hampton.” (From My Fair Lady,* with the English Her-e-ford in three syllables, and yes, “showing my age;” 74 in July.) But all that serves as segue to the fact that I just flew back from London, “and, boy, are my arms tired.” But seriously, it’s been over three weeks since my last post.

That’s because on May 7 I flew over to London, for two weeks “dress rehearsal.” That is, to get a feel for flying back next August and hiking the 130 miles of the Pilgrims’ Way, Winchester to Canterbury. (Plus do some additional sightseeing I won’t be able to do in August, like taking that “ferry ‘cross the Mersey” in Liverpool or visiting Stratford-on-Avon.) So after the last three apocalyptic posts, it’s time to get on with some fun in life. Like going over to visit London, Liverpool and Stratford, then getting to write up a scintillating travelogue about it. (A term “supposedly a blend of travel +‎ monologue,” something I didn’t realize before writing up this post.)

Starting off, the May 7 red-eye flight to London was scheduled to leave Atlanta at 9:50 p.m., but didn’t actually take off until 45 minutes or an hour later. And this time the Delta movie options didn’t include either “My Fair Lady” or “Rocky Horror Picture Show.” (I like them both for the great music.) So I watched a bunch of “Everybody Loves Raymond” reruns.

At Heathrow airport the trip through security was amazingly smooth, possibly because of the ETIAS clearance I got months ago. Then came a ride on the Elizabeth Line (the London Tube) to the ABC Hyde Park Hotel, 121 Sussex Gardens. One of the first things I noticed was a lot of “look right” signs, painted on the pavement at London intersections. We in America are used to looking left first (mostly because we drive on the correct side of the road). But Britain is different, and I almost got my “self” run over twice before I caught on; once by a huge bus and once by a speeding bicycle which showed no sign of slowing down for unaware American touristas.

Once we settled in, my travel companion and I walked the half-mile to Kensington Gardens, with its Italian Garden, along with the Serpentine (“recreational lake”), and the 1912 statue of Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie. (Bringing up the song, “I Won’t Grow Up,” which you might say applies to a 74-year-old man who keeps flying overseas to hike 130 to 150 miles just to burn off beer calories.*) Meanwhile, for those interested in such things, for a quick lunch we split a fish-and-chips order at Sussex Fish Bar, London – Paddington, about four minutes southwest. Then later on we dined at the Mughal’s Indian Restaurant, London – Paddington, also close by our digs.

Next, as noted in the last post, after the day off in London – to recuperate from jet lag – the trip would go on to Liverpool and Stratford-on-Avon, then back to London. We got eight-day Britrail passes, so once we used that up – with the trips to Liverpool and Stratford, plus day trips out of London – we’d stay in London and travel around the city on the Tube, or by bus, using our (Visitor) Oyster cards. (Which came in very handy.) But here I run into a problem.

In Liverpool and Stratford we ran up against reservation problems. Those problems were pithily described in an English expression I remembered vaguely from long ago, but it “hit the nail on the head.” That happened in Stratford, so I’ll take that episode out of order. In the next post I’ll describe the Liverpool visit, then revisit Stratford, then go on to the rest of the story.

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We have a friend in Stratford, Jane, which is why we stopped off there. (That and the Shakespeare stuff.) She went with us to where we had a reservation, an apartment in a small gated complex right across the street from Church of the Holy Trinity, Stratford-on-Avon. (Which would have been very convenient for getting to the 10:00 service next morning.) We went through the gate, looked around for someone to check us in, but no one could be found. There followed long attempts at phone calls and texts, all to no avail, very frustrating. Time passed by, we knocked on doors, but got no answer until one young gent finally answered. He had no clue but did his best to contact someone, anyone, to get maybe a code to enter into a lock-box into whatever room where we were supposed to stay? Until finally Jane said, “What a cock-up!”

At that I couldn’t help but laugh, despite the frustration, and my wondering “where, oh where will I lay my weary head tonight?” In such situations I always opt for a beer at a local bar, which usually includes the WiFi necessary to solve today’s travel problems. So, on Jane’s recommendation we hiked up what became Waterside Lane to The Dirty Duck, a “historic pub with two names and a royal connection.” Meanwhile, Booking.com tried to find an alternate place to lay our weary heads later that night. But unfortunately the “Duck” was packed…

Looking back it’s all kind of fuzzy, but there was an English gent sitting at a table on the streetside patio, with three empty chairs. Somehow I ended up in line with him, waiting patiently, while the ladies kept watch at the patio table. I found out his name was Chris, and asked him what he was drinking. He said an Abbot Ale – which I’d never tried, or heard of – so I ordered two, one for each of us. From there, hopefully, things would start to sort themselves out.

Meanwhile, we had expensive reservations at the Royal Shakespeare Theater. (With still no idea of where to find a bed for the night.) In due course we left “the Duck” and Chris, then got to the theater and were able to check our bags and my pack. Then we sat through a unique version of “Much Ado About Nothing.” (See the Notes for a review link.) All the time, watching and listening, I kept wondering, “Where, oh where am I going to lay my weary head tonight?”

The updated play was a unique blend of Shakespeare’s original Elizabethan dialog, combined with a “football club” setting. “We open at the final of the Euro League, as Messina FC takes the cup. Shakespeare’s lines are interspersed with football chants; ‘vaping’, ‘signed’ and ‘manager’ replace the Bard’s original words.” (The updated play frames the story “within sports to explore toxic masculinity,” and later gets into “slut-shaming, revenge porn and deepfakes, using the setting to their advantage to really explore these themes through a modern lens.”)

And all the while, trying to process all that hubbub while sitting in the way-up-high balcony I kept wondering, “Where, oh where am I going to lay my weary head tonight?”

But the play and the hubbub finally ended, and after that we got our checked bags and my pack, then trundled off into the late-night unknown. “Booking” said they’d found us a place, “but who the heck knew?” Which makes this a good place to end this post, with the Faithful Reader all on tenterhooks. (“Very nervous or excited [and] keen to know what it going to happen.”

I’ll describe what happened in the next post, along with my fulfilling a life-long dream in Liverpool. (Or at least a dream I’ve had since 1964, when I was 13.) That and yet another “cock-up,” this one involving our Liverpool hotel reservation. And I’ll do that even though my writing may “go all over the place!” You know, like Leviticus, Isaiah and Tristram Shandy?

As its title suggests, the book is ostensibly Tristram‘s narration of his life story. But it is one of the central jokes of the novel that he cannot explain anything simply, that he must make explanatory diversions to add context and colour to his tale…

On that note it seems that I too cannot explain anything simply – like tell a travel story – but feel compelled to add in “explanatory diversions to add context and color.” Which is another way of saying that I get a lot of grief because my writing ostensibly “goes all over the place.” But to me that’s the fun of both travel and writing about your travels. In my writing I explain those off-on-a-tangents as rabbit trails. To me they’re the fun part of blogging, as for example the rabbit trail that led me to Robert Burns and his expression, “cock up your beaver.” (A derivative of the “cock-up” expression, and relax, neither term means what many people think.*)

As John Steinbeck once said, you don’t take a trip, a trip takes you. So maybe the same thing applies when you start writing about your travels. You know (or should know) that the cock-ups are going to happen, so it’s better to just sit back, relax and enjoy the ride. And maybe learn something new? Or experience something never expected? In the meantime, the next post will continue the story with an account of coming into Lime Street Station in Liverpool, though perhaps not as “majestically” as Brian Epstein, as described by Paul McCartney. Stay tuned…

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The upper image is courtesy of my traveling companion. See also Church of the Holy Trinity, Stratford-upon-Avon – Wikipedia. On this trip we visited three other churches – Winchester Cathedral, Canterbury Cathedral, and St Paul’s Cathedral in London.

Re: “Hurricanes hardly?” People of a certain age will recognize the allusion to 1964’s My Fair Lady. It struck me that “London, Liverpool and Stratford” has the same rhythm as “Hartford, Hereford and Hampton,” where Eliza used three syllables for “Hereford.” (In the song The Rain in Spain, “a turning point in the plotline of the musical. Professor Higgins and Colonel Pickering have been drilling Eliza Doolittle incessantly with speech exercises, trying to break her Cockney accent speech pattern.” Wikipedia.) See two live versions at Hartford, Hereford, Hampshire… – YouTube.

Re: “Arms tired.” The link is to What’s the source of the phrase “and, boy, are my arms tired,” indicating it’s the punch line of an old joke, variously attributed to Henny Youngman or Bob Hope. Definitely a “rabbit trail” – for more, use the search engine above right – that led me to Did anybody ever really laugh at these? – Cafe Society.

Also on the Pilgrim’s Way see Pilgrims’ Way Stages: Winchester to Canterbury | One Step…

The link travelogue – Wiktionary, the free dictionary adds that it describes “someone’s travels, given in the form of narrative, public lecture, slide show or motion picture.”

On “not growing up.” I myself did have that 50 or 60-year interim – before my “second childhood?” – but the less said about that the better. Another note, before that interim I didn’t have beer.

Re: The Serpentine. “Although it is common to refer to the entire body of water as the Serpentine, the name refers in the strict sense only to the eastern half of the lake. Serpentine Bridge, which marks the boundary between Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, also marks the Serpentine’s western boundary; the long and narrow western half of the lake is known as the Long Water.” Wikipedia. I walked down below Serpentine Bridge, unaware that I’d crossed from Kensington Park into Hyde Park.

The site Cock-up – Meaning & Origin Of The Phrase said the phrase “isn’t commonly used in the USA, where it is generally assumed to have a vulgar meaning.” But no, “‘Cock up’ sounds rude, but it isn’t:”

What they might make of Robert Burns’ poem, which took the name of the old Scottish rhyme ‘Cock up your beaver‘, is best left to the imagination. What Burns was actually referring to was adorning a beaver fur hat by putting a cock’s feather into it.

None of which I knew before writing this post, one big reason I love blogging.

On that note see The Dirty Duck, Stratford-upon-Avon – Wikipedia: “It has existed as a pub since 1738 and has been known as The Black Swan since 1776… However, the pub is more commonly known as The Dirty Duck. It is unclear where this name originates.”

See a full review at Review: Much Ado About Nothing (Royal Shakespeare Theatre, The RSC).

On my writing shortcomings, and for future personal reference, see Rabbit hole Meaning & Origin | Slang by Dictionary.com, Definition of ‘go off on a tangent’ – Collins Online Dictionary, Unity and Coherence in Essays | Writing Center, and Unity & Coherence – ENGLISH 087: Academic Advanced Writing. (The last two show that at least I’m trying.)

Re: Steinbeck on trips. The actual quote is “people don’t take trips. Trips take people.” John Steinbeck – Travel Quote of the Week – Authentic Traveling.

The upper image is courtesy of Liverpool Lime Street railway station – Wikipedia. The caption: “LIME STREET STATION LIVERPOOL JULY 2013.” I used the image to lead off the post, A mid-May “Recon,” then on to Canterbury! The reference to Brian Epstein riding “majestically” into Lime Street Station – with a record contract, finally – is from England, the 1960s, and the Triumph of the Beatles | Plus, a series of lectures by Professor Michael Shelden. As I recall, Shelden described McCartney mentioning the incident during a “cock-up” during the filming of a fairly recent television interview.

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March 31, 2025 – “Think positive thoughts, think positive thoughts…” Which I will now try to do, by focusing on a pleasant, upcoming overseas trip – instead of the current sordid and polarized state of American politics. As noted in the last post, this coming August I’ll be doing another Camino – Hiking the Canterbury Trail in England. (And once again, I define a Camino hike as one where at the end of each day you look forward to a warm bed, hot shower and a cold beer.)

But before that I’ll do a little recon, going over for two weeks this coming mid-May.

And by the way, before you can get into Great Britain you have to get an “ETA,” an electronic travel authorisation. (I applied for and got mine last December.) And just to be safe I also got a set of buttons indicating who I didn’t vote for. (“Let the reader understand.”) I’ll let you know how that turns out, but I’m thinking maybe I’ll get some free drinks along the way?

Then there’s the question: “Why would you spend good money to visit England twice, same year, in the space of four months?” For one thing, ever since 1965 – when I first heard Ferry ‘Cross the Mersey, that “Pacemaker” song – I wanted to do just that: Take the ferry across the River Mersey in Liverpool. This year I wanted to do that by flying over early in August, then taking the train from London to Liverpool. But it turned out that plan just wasn’t feasible, joined as it would be with trying to hike the Canterbury Trail on the same trip. But as it also turned out, a dear friend – and future travel-but-not-hiking companion – has a friend who lives in Stratford-on-Avon. And Stratford – as it thirdly turns out – is halfway between London and Liverpool.

But first, some preliminary details. First, the plan: Fly to London – another red-eye from Atlanta – and arrive next morning, all jet-lagged. Then get a modest place for that night, and next day take the train from London to Liverpool’s Lime Street Station. (The same one Brian Epstein repeatedly left from and came back to in 1962, trying to get a record deal for the Beatles. “Time and again he boarded the London train from Lime Street station… And time and again he would return with bad news for the band. One record label after another turned the group down.”)

Anyway, the point is that through a confluence of circumstance – ones I couldn’t foresee when I made my plane reservations for August – I am now able to make this mid-May trip to England. In turn that means I can both do a little recon for the Canterbury hike, while also being able to cross off a number of other Bucket list items that have been hanging fire lo these many years. (Decades in fact.) So this post will look ahead to that mid-May trip: 1) as a “preview of coming attractions,*” 2) as a point of reference for when I get over there, and 3) for future reference, for when I get home and can compare how dreams and plans matched up with reality.

So, aside from visiting London – for a second time; I went over in 1979 – on this trip in May I hope to: 1) take that ferry across the River Mersey, 2) come through Lime Street Station, with its historic connection to Brian Epstein and the Beatles, 3) see other Beatles-connected sites in Liverpool, 4) visit Stratford-on-Avon, with its historic connection to William Shakespeare, 5) make a day trip  to Winchester (via BritRail), where my hiking companions and I will start out in August, and 6) make a similar day trip to Canterbury, where we’ll end our hike.

But back to Lime Street Station. We’ll arrive there – after three hours* on the train – just like Brian Epstein returning from London in 1962, with the great news that his then-unknown group (the Beatles) finally had a record contract. (Though perhaps not coming in as “majestically” as Paul McCartney once put it.) We’ll only have one night in Liverpool, but that’s okay because the next day we only have to travel half-way back to London, to arrive at Stratford-on-Avon. (Or maybe the Leamington Spa station, a 24-minute car ride from Stratford.) Meaning that while we’ll only have that one night in Liverpool, most of the things I want to see there are clustered around the same area. (Between Lime Street station and the River Mersey.)

For example, the dock at Pier Head (Mersey Ferries | Liverpool) is a mere 20-minute walk from Lime Street Station, and only two minutes further from the hotel I booked for our one-night stay. There’s a Beatles statue in the area, along with the British Music Experience museum, the Liverpool Beatles Museum and The Cavern Club itself. (Where “it all started.”) So we’ll have plenty to do in Liverpool before heading southeast to Stratford.

And in Stratford? There are three Royal Shakespeare theatres, along with Shakespeare’s Birthplace, Anne Hathaway’s Cottage, and even a Shakespeare’s Distillery, “an artisan gin and rum distillery certified as a carbon-neutral business.” And maybe some practice hikes around the area, drinking in the ambience of those long-ago halcyon days. (Or so they seem to us.) Possibly followed by a G&T at that Shakespeare Distillery. And on Sunday, a service at Shakespeare’s Church – Holy Trinity, Stratford. There I’ll pray for continued safe travel, before getting ready to hop on the train back to London for seven or eight days. Once back in London we’ll use the remaining days on those BritRail passes for day-trips including but not limited to Winchester and Canterbury. (That’ll be the pre-August, pre-hike “on to Canterbury!”)

Finally, once the BritRail passed run out we’ll see if there’s anything else to do in London…

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The upper image is courtesy of Liverpool Lime Street railway station – Wikipedia. The caption: “LIME STREET STATION LIVERPOOL JULY 2013.” The article included the photo below left, “Inward view of Liverpool Lime Street Station in 1959.” (Closer to the time Brian Epstein frequented the place.)

Re, positive thoughts. The full link is to How to Think Positively Every Day: Advice (Wikihow). See also 11 Ways to Boost Positive Thinking, 5 Tips to Train Yourself to Think Positively – Walden University, and others, by Googling “think positive thoughts.”

Re: “Recon.” The link is to Reconnaissance – Wikipedia: “In military jargon, reconnaissance is abbreviated to recce (in British, Canadian, Australian English) and to recon (in American English), both derived from the root word reconnoitre / reconnoitering.” I’m familiar with the term because I came of draft-age in the late 1960’s (and thought I might end up involved in such things). More precisely, familiar with the term “LURPs,” long-range reconnaissance patrols in Vietnam. (A LRRP was conducted by a “small, well-armed reconnaissance team that patrols deep into enemy-held territory.”) For more information see Long-range reconnaissance patrol – Wikipedia and Long Range Patrol in Vietnam War| K75 Rangers: “The long-range reconnaissance patrols (LRRPs) of the Vietnam War operated in a silent netherworld of dark green shadows where error could mean death and where the extraordinary was commonplace.” (All of which means some things from your “yoot” are hard to forget. And by the way, “Lurps” is not a misspelling. That’s how they pronounced it back in the day…)

Re: “Preview.” See the old-time (1960’s) Prevues Of Coming Attractions (1960s) Cinema Promo Trailer.

Re: Stratford-upon-Avon. I usually shorten that to “on Avon” on the theory that in this day and age the average reader is overwhelmed with data and so of necessity has the attention span of a gerbil. Thus fewer syllables, fewer words, shorter sentences, shorter paragraphs, etc.

Re: “Hanging fire.” See Wiktionary, the free dictionary, that aside from figuratively meaning to “wait, or hold back,” it literally referred to the case “when a gun does not immediately fire when the trigger is pulled, but may fire shortly after.” (Which I didn’t know. See also “misfire.”)

On Brian Epstein trying to get a record deal, see Lecture 5 in the Great Course, England, the 1960s, and the Triumph of the Beatles. (“Beatles for Sale: Brian Epstein’s Genius.”) Professor Michael Shelden opened by quoting Paul McCartney during a taped interview in 2007. Enduring a number of technical glitches Sir Paul said serenely, “We’ll get it right. We’ll move majestically to the end like the steam train bringing Mr. Epstein into Lime Street Station to tell us we had a record deal.” Shelden added that if the Beatles were to conquer the world “they knew the journey would begin at Lime Street Station with the long trip to London.” And that Epstein repeatedly took that long train ride until, after “many frustrating setbacks,” he finally came back with a deal. (As for that deal, it was officially signed in June 1962. See George Martin offers The Beatles a recording contract, though it seems the band’s very first record contract came a year earlier, “in Hamburg, Germany, where the band honed its craft playing gigs in the city’s boisterous nightclub district.”) And here’s the full “time and again” quote:

Time and again he boarded the London train from Lime Street station and kept pitching the Beatles as the next big thing in music. And time and again he would return with bad news for the band. One record label after another turned the group down.

Re: The Mersey. The link is to Ferry Cross the Mersey – Wikipedia, about the Gerry and the Pacemakers song “released in late 1964 in the UK and in 1965 in the United States.” Also, “The Mersey Ferry runs between Liverpool and Birkenhead and Seacombe on the Wirral Peninsula.” See also FER Gerry Marsden Ferry Terminal – Seacombe Ferry Terminal. And there was also a Ferry Cross the Mersey (film), which I didn’t know until working on this post.

About that “three hour” train ride from London to Liverpool. I’ve seen Google Map references that say many such trips can take seven hours, but I’ve been assured ours won’t take that long.

Re: Stratford. See e.g. The 18 best things to do in Stratford-upon-Avon – Time Out. See also Church of the Holy Trinity, Stratford-upon-Avon – Wikipedia.

Re: “Anything else to do in London.” That was either sarcasm, irony or maybe hyperbole? I sometimes get those three mixed up.

The lower image is courtesy of Church of the Holy Trinity, Stratford-upon-Avon – Wikipedia.

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March 15, 2025 – It’s that time of year again. Well, almost. To explain, pretty much every September since 2019 I’ve done a Camino hike over in Europe. (To me a Camino hike means at the end of each day you look forward to a warm bed, hot shower and a cold beer.)

My brother and I started such hikes in 2017, on the Camino Frances. I met up with him in Pamplona and from there we hiked – and biked* – the 450 miles to Santiago de Compostela. (The “Way of St. James.”) In 2018 we changed up and did an 11-day canoe trip, from Kingston on Lake Ontario up to Ottawa. (A break in the hiking action.) In 2019 my sister-in-law joined us for a hike on the Portuguese Camino, from Porto – home of port wine – back up to Santiago. In 2020 came another break in the action, thanks to COVID, but in 2021 it was back to the Camino Frances – or at least the part I missed in 2017 – hiking over the “dread Pyrenees.” (For reasons explained in Hiking over the Pyrenees, in 2021 – finally!)

In 2022 we three hiked the Way of St. Francis in Italy, from Assisi down the 150 miles to Rome. In 2023 we hiked the Robert Louis Stevenson Trail in France, what the French call the GR 70 or “Chemin de Stevenson.” Last year – 2024 – we three hiked the Camino Finisterre – to the “end of the known world” – then on to the Camino Ingles. (Basically a round trip from Santiago, out to and up the northwestern coast of Spain, then back down to Santiago.)

In all those hikes we had to learn important terms in a foreign language to get by. (In Spain for example, words like cerveza and banos, pretty much in that order.) But not this year! This August we’ll be hiking in Merry Old England, and so will be able to understand what the locals are saying. (Pretty much.) Which means it’s time for a bit of preliminary research.

For example, in 2021 I posted Countdown to Paris – 2021, on August 8, the month before I flew over to do the over-the-Pyrenees hike. Then on July 24, 2023, I posted On visiting Paris and Lyon in 2023, before flying over to hike the Robert Louis Stevenson Trail. (In the Cévennes Mountains of south-central France.) Then on March 5, 2024, I posted Preparing for a Camino hike, for the Finisterre and Camino Ingles hikes – again in Spain.

The ’21 post covered the 2010 film, The Way, starring Martin Sheen. It’s central premise was not just that an old, out of shape Beverly Hills eye doctor went to France to recover the body of his son – who died while hiking over the Pyrenees. It also covered his spur-of-the-moment decision to go on and hike the 500 miles of the Camino Frances himself, without any prior preparation or training. In other words, the film shows all the things you should not do when preparing for such a hike. (Including sitting on a bridge and taking off your pack, only to see it fall into the river below and float away. Or leave your pack unattended, to be stolen by a young gypsy.)

The ’23 post discussed my early plans for climbing the towers of Basilique du Sacré Cœur in Paris and Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourvière in Lyon. (Neither of which panned out. “C’est la guerre.“) And finally, the ’24 post offered tips for such an adventure. It led off with a sentence, “Getting ready for a hike on the Camino de Santiago? [Remember my definition.] Here are some useful tips.” Which as it turns out is always good for me to review.

It talked mostly about the importance of having a good pack, not a “cheap low-hanging pack from a local ‘Yuppie Goodwill.’” And about how the experts say your pack – including a full bottle of water – should weigh no more than ten percent of your body weight. (In my case 15 pounds, but for the last two hikes I’ve gone to 20.) And about the importance of packing only quick-dry clothes, good hiking shoes – along with some other incidental concerns.

Which brings up preparing for the next adventure, hiking the Canterbury Trail. The destination is Canterbury Cathedral, home of the Archbishop of Canterbury, “spiritual leader of the Church of England and symbolic leader of the worldwide Anglican Communion.” A pivotal moment in its history was the murder of Archbishop Thomas Becket, “in the north-west transept (also known as the Martyrdom) on Tuesday 29 December 1170, by knights of King Henry II:”

The posthumous veneration of Becket transformed the cathedral into a place of pilgrimage, necessitating both expansion of the building and an increase in wealth, via revenues from pilgrims, in order to make expansion possible.

And it looks like we needed to do this pilgrimage sooner rather than later. It turns out, “Much of the stonework at Canterbury Cathedral is damaged and crumbling, the roofs are leaking and much of the stained glass is badly corroded… [A] combination of centuries of weathering, pollution and constant use had taken its toll on the ancient building and some serious problems were in need of urgent action.” Which makes this trip kind of like that 2019 pilgrimage to Jerusalem,* what I rightly considered the chance of a lifetime. (I wouldn’t want to go back there now, or any time in the foreseeable future for that matter, and I am turning 74 in July.)

Back to the August hike: We’ll start at Winchester Cathedral, not just famous – for we of a certain age – for the 1966 novelty hit song by the New Vaudeville Band. But rather than “bringing me down,” this cathedral should make a good start for our UK pilgrimage. Among the largest of its kind in Northern Europe, it is the “sixth-largest cathedral by area in the UK, surpassed only by Liverpool, St Paul’s, York, Westminster (RC) and Lincoln,” and a major tourist attraction.

I hope and plan to write more preparation posts in the coming months, but in the meantime, here’s a glimpse of some of the foresty terrain we’ll be hiking through…

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The upper image is courtesy of Canterbury Cathedral From The Pilgrim’s Way Uk – Image Results. See also Pilgrims’ Way – Wikipedia, Canterbury Cathedral – Wikipedia, Pilgrims Way | Winchester to Canterbury | Pilgrim Walks, and Home | Canterbury Cathedral. (The site Pilgrims’ Way to Canterbury | The Natural Adventure offers a different and shorter route.)

Re: “Hiked – and biked.” Google Maps says it’s 234 miles from Pamplona to León, and from Leon, 182 miles to Santiago, though the official Camino mileage may differ. It took us 20 days, with one day off in Burgos, to get to Leon, but we only had 10 days left to finish. So we rented mountain bikes in Leon. (Google Maps also says the full Camino Frances hike from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port in France – and over the Pyrenees – is 453 miles, but Camino guidebooks put the distance at 500 miles.)

Re: 2018 canoe trip, see The “Rideau Adventure” – An Overview. For information on other past hikes use the search engine at the upper right.

Re: That French term after the ’23 post review. See History of the phrase ‘c’est la guerre’ (‘it can’t be helped’). It noted, “The French phrase c’est la guerre – literally ‘it is war’ – expresses acceptance of, or resignation at, the situation engendered by war; it can be translated as ‘it can’t be helped.'”

Re: “Yuppie Goodwill.” It’s actually the Clothes Less Traveled store in Peachtree City GA. “And by the way, I ditched that low-hanging pack on the sidewalk, by a series of recycle bins, just outside our last lodging in Rome, at Viale Angelico 38. (A half-hour mile-and-a-half walk up from Vatican City.)”

Re: Pilgrimage to Jerusalem. See the May 2020 post, This time last year – in Jerusalem!

Re: “Bringing me down.” The 1966 song begins, “Winchester Cathedral, you’re bringing me down. You stood and you watched as [pause] my baby left town…”

The lower image is courtesy of Pilgrims’ Way – Wikipedia, which provided the caption.

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