There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
My three long weeks in London and England's North was about to close. I had covered a lot, experienced much and my education was well rewarded. My choice for the grand finale was easy. It was a place, like many dreamers before me had dreamed and visited; and now, a few miles from Carlisle, Cumbria, my dream was fulfilled. The Lake District is England's largest National Park and UNESCO World Heritage Site. Covering 912 square miles, it is home to more than 200 spectacular mountains and fells ('hills), along with lakes, rivers and tarns, surrounded by thriving villages and historic monuments. It is landscape that has inspired great works of art.
Most travelers know that the Caribbean islands are well-versed in rum, but Barbados goes one better because this is where rum was discovered. A tavern owner in Bridgetown one day early-17th century was searching for an empty shipping barrel when he inadvertently stumbled across one filled with a concoction worth selling -- a barrel of sugar cane fermented over time. Well, Mr. Rumball -- the tavern owner -- knew a good thing when he tasted it and soon the Caribbean's signature beverage was being served and sold all over the island -- and very quickly well-beyond. Presumably asking for a "tot" of Rumball's elixir was too cumbersome and the name was shortened to rum. The drink's popularity was so pervasive that the King of England decreed that the Royal Navy should partake on a daily basis and George Washington insisted that a barrel be available at his 1789 inauguration.
Just a pleasure visiting the wayback, remembering my daughter’s first far-flung travel. And a chance to reprise it for Christmas and New Years wishes from the original Santa Claus. Many lay claim to the origins of the Santa legend, but St. Nicholas, of the ancient city of Myra in Turkey, is the real deal. Trace them back, most other countries’ Santa legends are spinoffs.
What can be said that has not already been said about Hadrian's Wall: A marvel of Roman ingenuity, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the last frontier of the Roman Empire. A stretch of 73 miles of stones from sea to sea, covering the entire width of the island of Britannia, from Wallsend on the River Tyne in the east to Bowness-on-Solway in the west. A Wall up to 15ft. in height and 6 ft. deep with large forts and smaller mile castles with intervening turrets. It took six years of work by skilled Roman legionary masons, along with thousands of auxiliary soldiers, to build. Upon its completion, the Wall was fully manned by almost 10,000 Roman soldiers to protect the Roman province of Britannia, Imperial Rome's final province and frontier, from the barbaric Caledonians of the north.
The sound of the tracks was calming as my railway car glided effortlessly through Northern England's breathtaking countryside. Watching the miles pass from a train window allows a perspective that is not offered by plane travel. And now, heading to Carlisle in Cumbria, nothing else seemed to matter besides the little farms and villages and sweeping green fields in England's north. Our life-long London friend, Trish, sat beside us, occasionally offering a soft-spoken narrative of its history, a history where the green fields were once soaked in the color of red from the Celts, the Romans, the Vikings, the Angles and Saxons, the Normans, the Jacobites and the Border Reivers
I’ve spent much of my life first 17 years of life dreaming about the boulevards of Provence and street cafes of Paris. I ended up instead as an exchange student in industrial town in the coal and steel region of in Lorraine, France. But that didn’t daunt my love of travel.
It all began in 1978 when John Colclough, an avid reader with a quick wit who is blessed with a rare photographic memory and enough intelligence to share with an army, began exploring the history, culture, and traditions of Ireland. Following his heart and with a profound affection for the island, Colclough explored the untrammeled backroads lined with ancient hand-designed stone fences that appear as if they were created by a master artist and designed for horse-drawn carriages. He negotiates postal lanes that carve their way past rolling grass fields with the most brilliant green on the planet, dotted with elm and lime trees, and glorious castles that appear like an astonishing vision in a landscape bordered by blankets of green and stands of leafy trees.
Located beneath the Treasury building in the Whitehall area of Westminster is the Churchill War Rooms. Previously called the Cabinet War Rooms, this where leading government ministers, military strategists, Prime Minister Winston Churchill and a dedicated staff of 500 people conducted war operations during WW II.From this network of underground rooms, you’ll see how they lived, where they strategized and survived unimaginable attacks by Hitler’s Nazi Germany. When World War II ended, the staff simply walked away leaving everything just as it had been, which included maps, phone banks, typewriters, signs that said ‘No whistling inside,’ and sun lamps for staffers who never saw daylight for months.
After my arrival at London's Heathrow Airport, I was whisked away in one the city's famous Black Cabs. I was relaxed and feeling carefree, well aware that a London Cabbie knew every part of the city like the back of their hand. Unlike U.S. taxi or Uber drivers where the gig is often a part time one, its purpose to stretch out incomes like a waiter or parking valet while waiting for that big break. But in London to be a Black Cab driver is nothing less than a proud full time endeavor. Three and a half to four years of training requires the driver to be one, which includes person-to-person non online tests. By simply naming an address, establishment or even a landmark you will be transported to your place of interest without any form of hesitation. The drivers can be chatty, too; interested in who you are and where you're from, and most importantly serving as an ambassador of London.