Monday 2/7/05
The reality began to set in that my week in England was drawing to a close. I missed people back home, but was not ready to leave England yet, and not just because of S's cooking and M's coffees... though it was mostly the company that I knew I'd miss. Driving around singing Elvis and John Denver songs with people is a strangely bonding experience.
For my last day, M and I went back to the market and I found a cute little black sweater for 5 pounds! ($10 US!) and looked for a CD for a certain someone... and M indulged me in my favorite thing: a double-cheeseburger (for breakfast). It's possible he was mainly sharing the guilt, as he had one too, but still sweet of him to remember I like those.
Then we drove out to a gorgeous view:
and had lunch in a converted horse-barn. Each booth had formerly been a horse's stall, and there were plackards over the tables with the horse's name, so the server knew where to bring our food. I had a steak and mushroom pie and after a week of fantastic food, I have this to say about the myth of bad english cooking: "bollocks!!!" I gained 5 lbs in a damn week! The food is phenomenal, just keep to the pubs.
We then headed out to a secluded little village called Tissington. This place is off the main highways and actually has a gate to the town, so you feel like you're driving into a private estate. The lord of the manor still lives in the great house there:
and the town is famous for it's wells. Wells were a big deal before water came in little plastic bottles, I understand. There are a lot of little wells in Tissington, and they have a festival in the spring and decorate them and someone comes and blesses them. Here's one the day we were there:
and here's what they look like, decorated, which they were not, while we were there (the images are made with flower petals):
We went into the chapel at Tissington and the strangest thing happened. In every church we were in that week, I'd taken pictures of the altars. This time, I stood at about mid-aisle and took my customary shot, and when I looked at the picture, the entire picture came out black except a cross on the alter that I hadn't even noticed.
I walked up and took a close picture with the flash on, and this is what it looked like just looking at it:
And this is a detail of the black picture. That whole alcove went black, including the stained glass window of Jesus... and the glare from the flash looks like a little glowing knight's head. I didn't mess with this second picture at ALL, except to enlarge it. That was when I saw the knight's face:
What the hell?!
The same thing happened in S's picture, and I would love to know if it also looks like there's a little knight's head in her pic, too. I didn't see that til I was editing pics this morning, and I couldn't believe my eyes.
We drove back home on a very foggy night through villages and hillsides that will meld in my mind into indistinguishable archetypical villages and hillsides, that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
For my last day, M and I went back to the market and I found a cute little black sweater for 5 pounds! ($10 US!) and looked for a CD for a certain someone... and M indulged me in my favorite thing: a double-cheeseburger (for breakfast). It's possible he was mainly sharing the guilt, as he had one too, but still sweet of him to remember I like those.
Then we drove out to a gorgeous view:
and had lunch in a converted horse-barn. Each booth had formerly been a horse's stall, and there were plackards over the tables with the horse's name, so the server knew where to bring our food. I had a steak and mushroom pie and after a week of fantastic food, I have this to say about the myth of bad english cooking: "bollocks!!!" I gained 5 lbs in a damn week! The food is phenomenal, just keep to the pubs.
We then headed out to a secluded little village called Tissington. This place is off the main highways and actually has a gate to the town, so you feel like you're driving into a private estate. The lord of the manor still lives in the great house there:
and the town is famous for it's wells. Wells were a big deal before water came in little plastic bottles, I understand. There are a lot of little wells in Tissington, and they have a festival in the spring and decorate them and someone comes and blesses them. Here's one the day we were there:
and here's what they look like, decorated, which they were not, while we were there (the images are made with flower petals):
We went into the chapel at Tissington and the strangest thing happened. In every church we were in that week, I'd taken pictures of the altars. This time, I stood at about mid-aisle and took my customary shot, and when I looked at the picture, the entire picture came out black except a cross on the alter that I hadn't even noticed.
I walked up and took a close picture with the flash on, and this is what it looked like just looking at it:
And this is a detail of the black picture. That whole alcove went black, including the stained glass window of Jesus... and the glare from the flash looks like a little glowing knight's head. I didn't mess with this second picture at ALL, except to enlarge it. That was when I saw the knight's face:
What the hell?!
The same thing happened in S's picture, and I would love to know if it also looks like there's a little knight's head in her pic, too. I didn't see that til I was editing pics this morning, and I couldn't believe my eyes.
We drove back home on a very foggy night through villages and hillsides that will meld in my mind into indistinguishable archetypical villages and hillsides, that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
posted by Cindy at 4:38 PM
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