September 14th

In Which We Leave London for Wiltshire!

On the 14th we packed our bags, ate breakfast, and said goodbye to London. 

This couple was from Germany. They were in London to see their newborn grandchild, and spoke very little English. Susannah spoke to them in German, and translated for the rest of us. 

We took pictures of where we stayed, to remember it by. This place was near the heart of London, but surprisingly quiet at night.

Susie was very patient about all of the photos that I insisted on taking.

St. Gabriel's Street

And the church for which the street is named

Heading for the train, Pewsey, and beyond!

This is our impression of Londoners...

When we arrived in the train depot in Wiltshire, there was no clear indication of how to reach the world beyond the depot. We knew that we were in Pewsey, and assumed that a nearby road led into town. We picked a likely looking direction, and headed that way. After we arrived in town a few minutes later, a car stopped by us as we walked down the side-walk, and the British fellow inside asked where the train station was. It was the only place in town we could have directed anyone to. I gave him directions, and tried not to smirk as I thought about how ludicrous my position was. The American accent must not have fazed him, because he took my word as gospel truth, and headed off in the direction I pointed out.

Wiltshire is covered in photo ops. The whole place is begging to be photographed.

We found a little pub to take some refreshment while waiting for the bus. It was very old, and everything that a country pub should be in my estimation. Low roofs, wood beams, barrels of beer and a giant fireplace.

Susie wouldn't let me take pictures inside the pub, so I had to content myself with taking photos of all of the winsome cottages we passed. I am pretty sure that the difference between a house and a cottage is it's photo appeal...

In Upavon our B&B hosts picked us by in their car and drove us the extra mile to their cottage. They showed us our room, offered the use of their washing machine for our laundry, and hunted for an adapter for our cell phone (the one we brought along had the wrong plug in). The Tilburys were perfect hosts, and their cottage was beautiful.

An old church down the lane.

 We met two elderly British ladies who obliged us by clicking this picture. They also commented on the coming referendum in Scotland, telling us to talk some sense into the Scots when we went, and to make sure that they voted correctly. I asked which was was the correct way to vote, and they said "NO! Tell them to vote 'no!'" While flattered by this estimation of my influence over Scotland, I was unsure that we held the power to sway the voters there....

We took the path across a nearby field to Upavon, where we ate dinner at the Antelope. We seemed to be a bit of a local curiosity, as Americans don't usually visit Upavon. In fact, everyone wondered the same thing: how had we ended up in Rushall of all places?

We ordered the traditional platter. As we had not yet learned to ask for "tap" water, we paid dearly for that artsy looking bottle of water in the back :P The whole meal was delicious.