British Isles Travelogue Photos

As you can see on the map below, this cruise around the British Isles acquainted us with Scotland, Wales, the capital of the Republic of Ireland, ending in our semi-home turf of England. Unlike in most of my past travelogues, I can start greeting you in our own language.

(photo of map)

However, the second language in all three countries is Gaelic, which descends from the Norse language -- and is pronounced gay-lic in Wales, and gah-lic in Scotland -- most of us hearing garlic when spoken by a native Scot.  However, I won’t attempt anything else in that champion of all tongue-twisters, since as simple a word as “Please” requires you to articulate “man bi’dh tu cho math”. Which I wouldn’t even try, and I don’t, anyway, remember if it was so in Irish Gaelic, Scottish Gaelic, or Welsh Gaelic. All those distinctions over 12 days of cruising were too much for my brain and my ears.

Trivia: The longest word in Welsh – and I believe in any language – is “Llanfairpwllgwynwgyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch”, which is the name of a railway station near Holy Head on the NW coast of Wales, and means “the church of St. Mary in the hollow white hazel trees near the rapid whirlpool by St. Tysilio’s of the red cave.” A copyeditor’s nightmare!

We left the U.S. three days ahead of our tour group, to spend three days on our own in EDINBURGH, the capital of Scotland, before meeting them for the cruise. The night of our arrival in Edinburgh, we had tickets (as a surprise for Robin, whose birthday was four days later) for the Scottish Festival, with a dinner-with-show including singers and dancers and bagpipe players. One of those traditional tourists attractions for visitors and aliens from other planets, it took place under an outdoor tent, located on what used to be the stables of the Prestonfield House. Originally founded as a monastery in the 12th century, the Prestonfield House was taken over by private parties in the 18th century and finally converted into a five-star hotel in the 1950’s. Quite an evening, which proved that the derogatory reputation of the traditional Scottish haggis (so says my English husband) has been grossly overstated, since our version of it that evening was quite edible, if not palatable.

All in all, we had enough time to explore not only that lovely city, but also to take a whole day with a coach tour through the Scottish Highlands, a wild, rocky, windy and glorious series of low mountains in the center of the top half of Scotland. They had been on my bucket list for many years, since I am quite fond of such rugged, isolated, bucolic, misty, and vast expanses of open spaces where nature is king and queen at once. Its very low-density population makes people outnumbered by sheep in an even greater proportion than for Scotland overall – with its six million people and 25 million sheep.

The Highlands demonstrate that Scotland was divided by a fault caused by the sliding of tectonic plates, the north of which belongs to the North American continent, and the south to the European continent. Its major landmark is the valley of Glencoe (“glen” means “valley”’ in Gah-lic), stage for the historic massacre of 1692 – following the Jacobite uprising of 1689 --  when the Campbell clan (supporting English King William) slaughtered the McDonald clan (faithful to King James I of Scotland). The irony of it lies in the ownership of most land in Scotland is by some 50 powerful English families.

Trivia: Britain’s Prime Minister Tony Blair was Scottish

It was quite obvious throughout our discovery of both Scotland and Wales that there is no love lost between England and the other three countries composing the United Kingdom. Their respective enmities go back centuries, and, even married to an Englishman, thus owing loyalty to his country (which I happen to love, by the way), I must admit that I find the English were totally ruthless and insatiable in their desire for power and conquest. But I shall say no more to save my marriage.

Although the weather didn’t cooperate much that day, we ventured into Fort Augustus, which borders on the famed Loch Ness (“loch”” means “lake” in Gah-lic). Sorry to report none of us spotted the historical and ominous beast of folklore stature. It would have been pretty hard to see anything, anyway, considering the heavy (and very wet) mist covering the lake at the time. There are about 3,000 lochs in Scotland, and they all run northeast to southwest. This lovely little town happened to have a “wee” (“small” and “little” in Gaelic anywhere) museum, with a video showing locals re-enacting what life was like for clans way-back-when in the Highlands. It gave us an excellent idea of what they were up against (meaning conquest attempts by you-know-who), in addition to their various clans fighting among themselves on a regular basis.

Our return trip to the ship took us to the village of Pitlochry, where the John Muir Trust Headquarters are located. We thus learned that Muir, who was a Scot, was as well-known for his conservation efforts in the U.K. as they have been in the U.S.

A quick word about the famous British weather. It was true to its reputation, which translated in 50% rain overall, and most of that in sprinkling, slight rain, typical of the U.K. as well as Paris. We were fortunate to have four full days of glorious sunny sunshine, on the Barra, Iona, and Scilly Islands, plus our second day in London. So, since it was par for the course in the UK, and could have been worse, we shall say no more on the subject.

Still before rejoining our group, we enjoyed our traditional occupation in a new city: a Hop-On-Hop-Off pass. Which, as usual, is the best way to familiarize oneself with a new city before exploring further. Again, it was one of those misty/rainy days, which we earnestly ignored since we had planned to visit the must-see Edinburgh Castle.

Standing on a great volcanic rock, the Castle dominates the capital of Scotland. It survived its beginning in the Iron Age and several wars of independence, and  was home to kings and queens. Queen Margaret (later St Margaret) died here in 1093, and Mary Queen of Scots gave birth to James VI in the royal palace in 1566. Her great-great-great grandson Charles Edward Stuart - Bonnie Prince Charlie - captured Edinburgh but couldn’t take the castle during the 1745-6 Jacobite rising. In 1996, the Stone of Destiny, on which kings were enthroned for centuries, was returned to Scotland and is displayed in the Crown Room.

We walked up the hill on the Royal Mile, one of the main thoroughfares of the city (which goes from the Castle to Holy Rood Palace, the English Monarch’s official residence while in Scotland. The Castle itself is a fortress encircled by very thick defensive walls. The Palace itself is not open to visitors, except for the Royal Apartments, the Crown Room, the WWII War Memorial, and the Great Hall, plus small several separate buildings with different functions.

We rejoined our group that night for the traditional Welcome Drink and dinner at our hotel, and on we went the next morning for a guided tour of the city prior to embarking our ship in the afternoon. Our independent guide was marvelous and  knew her city inside and out, with an accent trained to suit American ears.

With a population of 400,000 people, one of Edinburgh’s claim to fame is to be the birthplace of such celebrities as Robert Louis Stevenson (author of “Treasure Island”), Joseph Lister (who discovered antiseptics, thus our Listerine mouthwash), John Simpson (who invented chloroform), Alexander Graham Bell (Allo? Allo?), and Conan Doyle (who created Sherlock Holmes, whose statue is a city icon), Walter Scott (Scotland’s famous writer), and Robert Burns (its most famous poet). The city comprises and Old Town and a New Town, the latter still dating back to the 17th century and full of gorgeous Georgian and Victorian architecture, classical and symmetrical, elegant, stylish. We found this very hilly city, both in the Old and new Town, very civilized, humane and classy. Due to climate restrictions, its many cultural summer activities – which include the famous Military Tattoo – all take place in August. Take this as a warming to pick another month to visit this very pleasant city!

Schooling is mandatory to age 18. “O levels” are the exams punctuating the end of primary and beginning of middle school. “A levels” are those at the end of middle school to enter what we call high school. Students can drop out at age 16, but they then have to proceed with two years of either trade school or college to prepare for university. In a typically quirky way, the British call our private schools “public schools” (such as Fettes, which Tony Blair attended), and our public schools “state-run schools.”

All museums are free, and so are its four universities. St.Giles is the patron of Edinburgh, and St. Andrew the patron of Scotland, each one having a church named after him: St. Giles’ Presbyterian church, and St. Andrew’s Catholic church, both in Edinburgh.

Trivia: the Unicorn is the emblem of Scotland, the lion that of England.

Our first port of call, on our way to the Orkney Islands, was the city of ABERDEEN, north of Edinburgh on the same North Sea coast. Its 400,000 inhabitants make it the third largest city in Scotland, after Edinburgh and Glasgow. Bombed very heavily in WWII by the Germans, it is nonetheless a very wealthy and vibrant city since the oil boom of the 70’s. Its nickname of “silver city” is due to the effect of moonlight on granite, which is quarried everywhere and is used extensively by the construction business. It claims the biggest heliport in the world, used for commuting the many workers hired by the oil industry, since Aberdeen doesn’t have enough housing facilities for all of them. Fishing of herring still remains its largest industry, and it enjoys a very low 2% unemployment. Aberdeen is also were the Salvation Army is headquartered, and statues of Robert Burns, a child of the town, are ubiquitous.

We visited the quaintest “wee”’ village just outside of Aberdeen, called Fittie. The area has had a settlement as far back as the Medieval times and the first recorded reference to the area of Fittie was in the year 1398. A particularly interesting example of a planned housing development purpose-built to re-house Aberdeen's local fishing community, it was laid out in 1809 by John Smith, the then Superintendent of the town's Public Works. Smith went on to establish himself as one of Aberdeen’s main architects.

Trivia: I’ll just post this photo of a wonderful plaque, found on the outside wall of one of the village’s houses: PHOTO

We then discovered a little jewel of mansion, called Crathes Castle. Standing among and surrounded by rolling hills, this “wee” castle was built in the 16th century. It retains the original painted ceilings in some rooms and displays family portraits and furniture, having been inhabited ever since. We were quite taken by the homey and comfortable atmosphere of this still inhabited residence – cozy despite its turrets and towers and stone spiral stairs. The rain unfortunately kept us from visiting the walled gardens which make him a much visited site.

The next day marked the actual beginning of our tour of the British Isles. We docked in Stromness, the capital of Orkney, the largest island of the ORKNEY ARCHIPELAGO. Stromness is in the heart of the Orkneys, which are the center of Neolithic Britain. It provides access to the three UNESCO Word Heritage sites that we visited: the Standing Stones of Stenness, the Ring of Brodgar, and, best of all, Skara Brae.

Stenness is 5,000+ years old, and older than the better known Stonehenge in England. There were originally 12 standing stones forming a ring, eight of which a local farmer saw fit to get rid of because he wanted to till the ground. This, of course, took place before the site became part of the National Trust of Scotland as well as the UNESCO. The center of the original ring is considered an energy field similar to that of the Feng Shui theory.

The Ring of Brodgar is an archeological treasure considered the most iconic symbol of Orkney’s prehistoric past. Built around 2,500 BC, it is the largest circle of stones in the British Isles. 27 of the original 60 stones survived till today. Like many other such ancient monuments, the matter of its purpose is still being debated today, between an astronomical and a religious purpose.

Skara Brae was on the Bay of Skaill, on the Atlantic side of the northern tip of Scotland. Fond as I am of old stones, archeology and history, this was one of my favorite highlights of the whole trip. This stunning stone-built village is the best preserved Neolithic site in NW Europe, and was the object of the August 2014 issue of the National Geographic Magazine. Consisting of eight separate houses, it was occupied from 3,200BC to 2,500BC. Similar to the grassy forts recently found in Wales, the site was originally a grassy mound, with the dwellings underground, quite a distance from the ocean water line. With time, the sea came closer and closer to land. After several very severe storms hit Scotland (in the winter of 1850, and again in 1924), the restoration of the outline of a village of stone-built house without roofs subsequently found by the villagers was twice undertaken and twice abandoned. It was finally entrusted in 1927 to the University of Edinburgh.

The site also included a replica of what one of these houses would have looked like when inhabited, with only a narrow opening through the grassy side to connect the dwellers to the world outside.

Here, as were all around Scotland and Wales and their many islands, sheep were everywhere, in every field, in every meadow, giving the scenery the bucolic look and feel that I had come to identify with that part of the world.

Trivia: We questioned the various colors X’s showing on the back of many of the ubiquitous 3M (meaning “million”, not the manufacturer of Post-Its! sheep that largely outnumber the 10M people in all of Scotland and Wales combined. It turned out that the color of the X’s identifies the owner of the ram which impregnated the ewe in question, so stud fees can be paid to the responsible party. (Figure out how it got there by yourselves. I am not drawing a diagram.)

Our next insular experience was on the ISLE OF LEWIS, whose bottom half (?) is called the ISLE OF HARRIS. We docked in the town of Stornoway, with a population of 9,000, claiming the only hospital serving all of the Orkneys. In our wanderings that day on the island, we were exposed to scenery consisting of bare trees, grassy and sometimes very flat, surrounded by hills that just missed the required minimum height to be called mountains. True wilderness is haunting and beautiful, and can be so even in heavy mists and high winds.

First thing in the morning, we visited a local Scotch whisky brewery, the first legal one in Scotland! Our independent guide that day was a young local woman, on her first day on the job. She shared with us precious information about her and her family’s life on the island of Lewis. Such as the population of Lewis is mostly older, giving rise to a multitude of caregiving services for home health care; their winters are interminable, with the sun not rising before 10AM and setting some time around 3PM; the importance of the Protestant religion which controls their daily life, such as nothing does, goes or happens on Sunday; Gaelic is taught in schools, and some parents even send their kids to a school where all teaching is done in Gaelic; and tourism is the only industry on the island of Lewis outside of fishing and whisky, but only from April to September.

The brewery was one of our first direct contacts with the locals, which included being hosted for neighborhood encounters at community centers for lunches. Some of us indulged in a “wee” dram of the stuff, and the owner of the distillery took us on a tour of the factory. Scotch whisky is made of barley, soaked with water (in their case, from the Red River nearby), then allowed to stand and germinate, to then be dried with peat smoke in chimney, before being transferred to the distillery where yeast is added, and distilled as many times as necessary to obtain the desired alcohol percentage. At which time it will be kept in barrels for a minimum of three years and one day, then bottled on the premises.

Then we learned about peat banks. Peat (also called turf) is an accumulation of decayed vegetation or organic matter, representing a perfect example of an ecology-perfect source of heat. Which is exactly what the Scots use it for, amassing, cutting or shoveling out, digging out, drying, transporting to their homes, forming piles of it in their yards, to finally use them for their hearths or ovens. Each family is assigned a peat bank, which they regularly tend to with heart-breaking and time-consuming work. It is by far cheaper than coal, but not for everyone or every age.

A visit to a local artisan weaver showed us how and where the famous Harris tweed is made, with a loom which requires his using his leg constantly for hours to obtain the finished product. The young man we watched confessed to the presence of a TV set, cleverly secured to the ceiling above his head so he wouldn’t die of boredom.

The last stop of the day was at the exceptionally pretty Black Houses Village of Geàrrannan. Black houses used to be common in Scotland’s Orkneys, Hebrides and elsewhere. They were small one room thatched-roof houses, sheltering a family and its animals, using peat for heat in their hearth and for cooking. The sample house, built in 1920, is now the only one open to visitors, fully furnished, in this village replica built in 1880. It sheltered families until 1966, after which it remained as it was when the family left it. An included visitor’s center and of course, gift shop, have also been added.

Trivia: Black Houses are so called because the indoors spaces are black from the smoke from the peat-burning fireplaces.

During that whole day, and everywhere we went, the Brexit issue came up with an intensity and fervor that we found on the rest of the cruise. It became obvious that Scotland’s fishermen wanted to leave, because the EU’s regulations were limiting their options. While Welsh farmers wanted to stay since they couldn’t survive without EU subsidies. More on that subject after the London section. Any way, we all knew the outcome by the time we got home.

Our next port-of-call, on a bright, sunny and cheerful day, was Castlebay, the main town of the delightful ISLE OF BARRA, the most southern of the Hebrides. Welcome to Barra-dise, is how our local guide proudly introduced her island. What a difference blue skies and sunshine make! We were very lucky, because the scenery on that blessed little island was absolutely fantastic, with an interesting topography: rocky and hilly west side, -- which reminded us of Cornwall --, and flat meadows on the east side.  Water and rolling hills everywhere, an orgy of what tourists usually imagine, or remember from travel videos or books.

Not only did we have a charming and learned local guide (who lives and works in many part-time jobs on the island), but we got to meet other locals as well, for a demonstration of local folk dances and songs, with two teenage boys accompanying on accordions, in Castlebay’s community hall.

Trivia: One of the two performers sheepishly said “All of you together amount to 1/5th of the whole population of the island!”

Our guide shared the details of her daily life with us, and we got the same feeling about it as any of us born or living in a small town will know or remember: several jobs to make ends meet, and a strong sense of community and mutual help, braving the elements and the vagaries of life together. When she mentioned that 90% of the island population was Catholic, she added that, “in the old days,” they used to bury Catholics and Protestants facing in opposite directions!” That explained a lot about the infamous split of Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland…

Most roads are of the secondary one-lane wide variety, which makes for a good show for coach passengers to watch while their driver and that of the much smaller oncoming vehicle have to maneuver appropriately. There are, spaced every so many yards, pull-out spaces called “passing places.”

Our first stop was at a fishing factory, where the owners proudly showed us around and explained how they make a living. Theirs is a winning proposition, by which local fishermen bring to them the results of their daily fishing expeditions, and they do the rest: clean, sort, shell, scale, freeze, package, and load on their refrigerated trucks to take them to distributors who ship them to Europe (mostly France and Spain). Their catches consist mostly of prawns and scallops, but also sole, cod and salmon.

Then we were treated to the “Barra Airport” experience, when our group lined up by the beach to witness the arrival of the daily flight from Glasgow. They even added a small building bearing the proud sign “Barra Airport”, with its own little control tower, and a blue truck to unload the passengers’ luggage. Imagine a wide beach, which sustains two tides a day, when the water recedes quite far – at variable times, of course – when the clean and hard-sand beach becomes a runway for the 19-seat bi-plane which operates regular daily service to Glasgow (one daily flight in the winter, two in the summer). Of course, the fun part is that the schedule varies all the time since it is regulated by the tides. I guess the locals are used to a schedule which operates with a 4-6 hour ”error margin,” and go with the flow. Literally. We were privileged to witness the arrival of the afternoon flight, in full sunshine, which was just thrilling. All in all, a blessing for the islanders -- even though the $200 round-trip fare seems a bit steep -- and an exciting attraction for the rare tourists.

Trivia: We were cheerfully accused by one of the locals of “causing a bit of congestion at the airport today!”

The next day took us to the lovely ISLE OF IONA, home to the oldest and most sacred religious place in Western Europe, founded by St. Columba in 563 AD. As a celebrated focus for Christian pilgrimages, Iona retains its spiritual atmosphere and remains an enduring symbol of worship. Its two main historical sites are the ruins of its Nunnery and its Abbey. The Benedictine Abbey, standing on the site of the monastery founded by St Columba, was the focal point for the spread of Christianity throughout Scotland. In about 1,200, a Scottish lord decided to revive the community after the passage of the Vikings. The same lord also built an Augustinian Nunnery, a quarter of a mile SW of the Abbey, installing his sister as its first prioress (I wondered if she had any say in this?).

It is believed that the monks of St. Columba’s Abbey created the famous Book of Kells, also known as the Book of Columba, c. 800. A masterwork of Western calligraphy, it is an illuminated manuscript in Latin, containing the four gospels of the New Testament, which was relocated for safety to Ireland during and because of the Viking invasions. The Abbey church was restored at the beginning of the 20th century, while work on restoring the living accommodation began in 1938, following the foundation of the Iona Community. An ecumenical Christian religious order, the Iona Community currently remains a popular destination for Christian pilgrimages, and continues the tradition of worship first established by St Columba 1,450 years ago.

Down the Atlantic coast, we said good-bye to Scotland, and went south on our way to Wales. We first stopped in DUBLIN, capital of the Republic of Ireland. I can’t really say that we “saw Ireland”, because cities, even capitals, are only but a fraction of what any country is about like. Especially when you see it all in the rain. I hope to, one day, actually visit Ireland.

This was the 100th anniversary of the Easter uprising of 1916 which gave way to Ireland’s independence from England in 1922. The monument to the memory of the 14 Irish leaders of the uprising was but a meager reminder of what the Irish endured during their tormented history to become independent of England. Slightly smaller than West Virginia, its mostly Catholic and 99% literate population of almost five million is employed mainly in tourism, followed by manufacturing/construction/mining, and only 6% in agriculture. The Irish flag is orange – for Protestants -, green – for Catholic nationalists --, and white for peace and tolerance. Among many other things – including the birthplace of the Irish novelist James Joyce -- , Ireland is known for its obelisk to the memory of General Wellington, born there in 1769, whose claim to fame is that he defeated Napoleon at Waterloo in 1815. Elizabeth I, Queen of England in the 16th century, takes the credit for founding, in 1592, both Trinity College – in par with Oxford and Cambridge universities -- and Phoenix Park, a public park of 1,700 acres meant solely for the public’s enjoyment. A definitely cheerful space in the center of an otherwise bustling and noisy Dublin.

Our first stop in the morning was at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Completed in 1220, it is now the National Cathedral, and the final resting place of Jonathan Swift, author of “Gulliver’s Travels.” This is where the “Door of Reconciliation,” is on display, speaking of the way two warring families resolved their feuds in 1492: with one family inside and the other outside, they cut a hole through a doorway, through which the patriarch of each family stuck a hand to shake the other’s, hoping it wouldn’t be cut off. After they shook on it, peace was brokered – with each party still two-handed! Thus the Irish saying of “to chance your arm.”

Trivia: the first performance of Handel’s “Messiah” took place in St. Patrick’s Cathedral

No one can leave Dublin without seeing Trinity College, with its outstanding Old Library, which houses the Book of Kells (see Isle of Iona). The College’s Old Library was a stunning discovery, with a Long Hall which had a loft running on either side of its whole length, forming a second story, with floor-to-ceiling book shelves. The Old Library holds 200,000 books, including copies of every book ever printed in Ireland. Sounds like our Library of Congress, doesn’t it?

We started our acquaintance with the country of WALES with the town of Holy Head, in itself nothing special except for its being the gateway to Carnarvon, another highlight of this trip for us. The Castle of Caernarfon (Welsh spelling), built as a military facility and not a residence in the 1280’s, is a World Heritage Site. Strategically located near water, it was a true gem of an impregnable fortress. Imagine a small walled medieval castle, surrounded by feet-thick walls, with several buildings within the enclosure, eight octagonal towers with two levels in the surrounding walls, all so well-preserved that you can close your eyes and visualize the historical intrigues and secret meetings, passionate encounters and festive demonstrations of the time, such as we recently watched on the 6-episode BBC series, “Great Castles of England” (found on Netflix Streaming). After building it on the previous site of Roman and Norman structures, the English King Edward I managed to befriend (?) the Welsh by having his first son born in 1285 in the Castle of Carnarfon (English spelling), and naming it Prince of Wales. From that time one, the first-born son of all subsequent kings of England automatically assumed the title of Prince of Wales. The last example of such an honor was the investiture of Prince Charles in 1969. Whether or not it appeased the Welsh enough to tolerate England’s interference in their affairs is yet to be determined.

Trivia: That evening, our entertainment on the ship (which was still docked) was a group of local male singers. When they showed up, as a group of middle-to-late-middle-aged men, we thought “Oh well…” And it turned out that not only were they superlative singers, but their leader, the patriarch of them all – who turned out to be 92 --, all hunched back in his tuxedo, bearded, slow-moving and all, wound up being just a blast. He first sent us all into fits of laughter when he slowly turned around and mumbled (in a style which was to be repeated through the performance): “I know you know this song, and will want to join in. But please don’t, because it throws us off!” Even the singers were laughing, since we were told he has different repartees at every concert.

Another fascinating and exciting discovery in Wales was in Fishguard. Again, not a town to write about, though very attractive and quaint, until we went to the Library and discovered what makes it so special. It is called The Last Invasion Tapestry” It is so named because it relates the last attempt of the French (or anybody else) to invade England in 1797 by landing in Fishguard. This incredible 30mx53cm work of art (100ftx2ft), done in the Bayeux style of tapestry, is displayed on a long wall in the Library. Created in 1997 for the 200th anniversary of the famous event (in Wales, anyway), it was designed by Elizabeth Cramp, and embroidered by 77 women. This labor of love took four years to complete: two years to draw the outline on the banner cloth, followed by two years of tedious needlepoint work, using 178 colors. It is embedded in the town’s folklore, and lovingly displayed in the Library, with a local woman playing, in costume, the part of Jemima. The heroin of the story managed, with the help of men folks that she went to kick out of bed in the middle of the night, to stop and annihilate the 12 French soldiers who had landed on the beach in Fishguard in the middle of the night, mistaking it for their intended destination of Bristol, because of a storm. Of course,  the fact that they happened to be drunk and stuffed from overdrinking and eating after weeks at sea, must have contributed to her vitory. It is also said that, in their drunken state, they mistook the color of the clothes worn by the rushing villagers for that of English military uniforms, and promptly surrendered!

While I was resting, basking in the sunshine and the lovely harbor scenery, Robin went on a hike along the coast, on a national trail which was so extremely windy that he was the only one of the small group to finish the hike. And he took some wonderful photos of what I believe is the most iconic sight of the wild coast of Scotland (and Wales). Again reminding us of Cornwall, in SW England.

It was time to leave Wales as well, and continue south to the English Isles of Scilly It’s easy to understand why the locals dislike hearing tourists refer to their home turf as “silly isles,” so we were all very careful. We anchored off shore and tendered in on a large island-provided tender which took us to the town of New Grimsby, on the Island of TRESCO.

Tresco is famous for its Abbey Gardens, which contain the remnants of a Benedictine abbey founded in 964 AD. This terraced and sub-tropical garden, described as “a perennial Kew Gardens (famous gardens in London) without the glass,” was established by the 19th-century owner of the islands, Augustus Smith, originally as a private garden within the gardens of the home that he designed and built. There were hardly any trees on the islands, so Smith first planted mainly deciduous trees, fast growing and suited to coastal conditions. The influence of the Gulf Stream greatly favored this tropical garden, which is home to more than 20,000 species of plants from 80 countries, ranging from Brazil to New Zealand and Burma to South Africa.

By then we were about done with our trip, which was due to end in LONDON, where we spent two wonderful days, notwithstanding the perennial “intermittent rain with scattered showers.” I had planned to see what we had missed on previous trips, such as the new Shard Building, and the British Museum. Our arrival at our hotel (right next to the Tower Bridge) was first hampered by what an extremely severe rainstorm the night before was doing to the traffic, having caused floods which paralyzed the city. It was also punctuated by… its being the day when UK citizens were voting for or against exiting the European Union. Being so, radio stations and TV channels were busy setting up interviewing booths and platforms for their recording equipment – preparing for the vote’s aftermath the next day. The BREXIT event also created additional heavy traffic, blocked streets, and increased security vehicles and staff – especially around and near the Parliament. It was really exciting to be part of the making of history, and were very grateful to witness all of it without the headache of being the ones to drive through it all. Our driver was unfazed by it all and very adept.

After we finally checked in our hotel, we headed for the Shard Building, in unfortunately typical UK “inclement weather”. It was a real shame since the glorious view one gets from the 72nd and last floor of this 802-ft tall structure, is really outstanding. Which means that the photos included in the travelogue’s complete gallery are informative, but not cheerful. Boo-hoo…

Inaugurated in 2012, this striking building in the shape of a shard of glass was the creation of the internationally-known architect Renzo Piano, who also takes the credit for the Centre Pompidou in Paris, the Tokyo Airport and the San Francisco’s Transbay Transit Center. The tallest building in the UK and in the European Union, the 802-ft, glass-clad pyramidal tower has 72 habitable floors, with a viewing gallery and open-air observation deck on the 72nd floor.

Trivia: Nature’s call gave us a chance to sample the view from the 39th-floor lavatory. Both men’s and women’s were graced with a floor-to-ceiling window offering an unobstructed view of the city!

I had reserved a day for the British Museum. Since it’s about as big as the Louvre, we knew we would barely make a dent on the list of all the very famous objects which are housed there, but still, we plowed on. The Museum is a magnificent structure, extremely well laid-out, easy to navigate and explore, with many permanent collections and several temporary ones. My previous homework had highlighted the fact that, in three+ hours, we should follow a given list of the most important items to see, such as: the Rosetta Stone, Mold Gold (an almost 5,000-years old ceremonial gold cape, found in North Wales), Parthenon sculptures from ancient Greece, a Turquoise Serpent from Aztec priests, the Lewis Chessmen set (made of carved walrus ivory, found on the Scottish Isle of Lewis), the Royal Game of Ur (dating from 2600BC) and an Easter Island statue. You will find photos of these items in the complete photo gallery accessible by clicking on the camera icon top right of the first page of this travelogue.

The next morning, we had a wonderful and true Londoner to escort us on our tour of central London, thankfully accompanied by sunny and blue skies. She was a gold mine of information about her city, and was giddy with excitement about wandering throughout the center of her city on “the day,” when we were all going to find out the reactions to the famous LEAVE vote. The Queen must have been in residence that day because the flag was raised at Buckingham Palace, which – we all assumed, including our guide – was because of the Brexit situation (though she has no say in the matter either way). We also stopped at Trafalgar Square, abuzz with activity, including the setting up for “London’s Gay Pride” day the next day. The National Gallery, another famous London museum, and the famed St. Martin-in-the-Fields, occupy one end of the public square, in the middle of which is the statue of Admiral Nelson. Built in 1970, St. Martin-in-the-fields is a very active episcopal church, famous for hosting classical music concerts by the renowned Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields (one of which we were fortunate enough to attend for the traditional Handel’s Messiah during Christmas week in 2014.)

That night was the official termination of our British Isles trip, with the usual Farewell dinner. The next morning, we started the last phase of our adventure, consisting of visiting good friends, as well as Robin’s brother, around the city of Southampton.

As you can guess, before and after “the vote”, north and south, east and west, it was the buzz everwhere we went, and opposite opinions were flying right and left. The LEAVE vote was somewhat of a shock for the greater London area, Scotland and Northern Ireland, all of which wanting and expecting to remain. From what we heard, the divide took place along the lines of age, with the older people wanting to leave (so that nothing changes and goes back to what it used to be), and the younger ones eager to remain (because that’s all they’ve known since 1993, when the EU was formed after the ratification of the Maastricht Treaty). We also heard from many sources that the two main factors determining the outcome of the referendum were, perhaps wrongfully, mostly centered on the issues of Brussels’ control and immigration -- notwithstanding the reality of the local, national and global economies.

I can’t leave the UK without mentioning our second visit to the celebrated site of Stonehenge, in Amesbury (near Salisbury). It has been greatly improved since our last visit about 15 years ago, and, although we knew nothing about the stones themselves would have changed, we wanted to see the new Visitor’s Center and how crowd management had been effected. We found it a vast improvement, for both the visitors, the staff and the protection of the site itself. Stonehenge is described as a prehistoric temple, a masterpiece of engineering, part of a complex prehistoric landscape, whose purpose has been lost to humanity. No one doubts that there will always be debate about its meaning.

And so we said good-bye to England, Scotland and Wales, hoping to learn and see more about Ireland in the near future.