British Isles Trip Photos Now on the Web!

You can see a sampling of photos from the Alumni Association's "Cruise the British Isles" trip at http://www.personal.psu.edu/tmh1/QuickBritishIsles (if you're typing that address in by hand, note that that's the numeral "1" after the tmh, not a lower-case "l").

A more extensive collection of photos from the trip will be available soon at http://www.personal.psu.edu/tmh1. Stay tuned.

Random Notes on London

Here are some miscellaneous observations about London:

--The guide on the double-decker sightseeing bus today said that London has more theatres than New York City. Many of the travelers on this trip took advantage of the opportunity to take in a play; I heard good things especially about "The Postman Always Rings Twice," starring Val Kilmer, and a new and very snazzy production of "Mary Poppins."

--This city is *so* steeped in history, from the church where Robert Browning married Elizabeth Barrett, to the Tower of London, where Ann Boleyn lost her head, to Westminster Abbey, where William the Conqueror was coronated as king in 1066 and where Princess Diana's funeral was held in 1997. Not to mention the fact that London is the site of the original Hard Rock Cafe.

--There's a pub just across from the Tower of London called The Hung, Drawn, and Quartered.

--It's hard to get the hang of being a pedestrian over here. Since cars drive on the left-hand side of the road, when you cross the street you have to remember to look to your *right* -- because that's where the cars are that are inches away from flattening you.

--I thought this might be the first trip where I *didn't* buy a T-shirt, but I couldn't resist at a restaurant/pub called The Albert. On the back of the T-shirt is a list of all the British prime ministers who've been seen at The Albert since the 1880s -- from Benjamin Disraeli to Lloyd George to Winston Churchill to Margaret Thatcher to Tony Blair.

--There is a statue on just about every street corner in London, it seems. If you were an important figure in British history and they *didn't* put up a statue in your honor, you should file a complaint somewhere.

That's all from London. We head to the airport tomorrow to come home, so with any luck, there won't be anything further that's interesting to report from here on out! Hope you've enjoyed hearing about our adventures in the British Isles.

Big Doings in London

We happen to be in London on quite a big day, as it turns out. As mentioned earlier, it's the final day of National Commemoration Week -- the commemoration, that is, of the 60th anniversary of the end of World War II. Not long ago there was a procession from Buckingham Palace (just two blocks from our hotel) to a spot down the Mall where a big ceremony is taking place as we speak. I was taking a break back at the hotel -- and changing into cooler, less sweaty clothes, as the temperature here is in the upper 80s -- so I got to see some of the procession live on the BBC. The Queen and Prince Phillip were in one horse-drawn carriage, and Charles and Camilla were in another -- all heading down the same mall I had walked down just a few hours earlier.

Some of the travelers in our group were lucky to get a glimpse of, and in some cases a photo of, the Queen as she passed by in an earlier procession to Westminster Abbey.

At 5:00 this afternoon, vintage WW II planes will fly over Buckingham Palace and drop something like five million poppies from the sky -- another commemoration of the anniversary of the end of the war. Everyone in our group is organizing their afternoon plans to be able to see that.

Meanwhile, this is my first-ever visit to London, whereas many of the travelers in our group have been here a half-dozen times or more. So everyone has advice for me on what I should do -- and my goal is to do it all in one day! So far I'm making pretty good progress on the to-do list: today already I have ridden on a double-decker sightseeing bus, eaten fish and chips, visited the Tower of London, seen the crown jewels (not too shabby, those), eaten strawberries and cream, and photographed Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, the British Airways London Eye, Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace, and the various waterfowl (ducks, swans, and even pelicans) at St. James' Place. Not bad for a day's work, huh?

While all of the World War II celebrations and royal processions are taking place, the city meanwhile is still coping with the aftermath of Thursday's terrorist bombings. When you watch the British edition of CNN, there is a poignant series of messages crawling along the bottom of the screen, reminding you that many people are still missing: "Adam Keogh from Dublin please contact your family in Ireland ... Jamie Gordon please call friends and family ... Tristan Northin please call home ... Jo Fowler is safe ... George Willis please call Mum ... Kismet Hossein please call your brother Shapon ..." and so on. It definitely reminds you of the aftermath of Sept. 11 in the area around the World Trade Center.

More news as it happens....

London Calling

It's our final day of the trip, and we're spending it in London. We arrived at our hotel -- a very fancy joint not far from Buckingham Palace -- yesterday afternoon after a bus tour of the city, and we had the rest of the day and all day today to explore.

At dinner on our last night on the cruise ship, I had a very interesting conversation with an older woman who was a teenager in London during World War II and who talked quite a bit about the four- or five-year period when London was subjected to constant bombing attacks. Many children and teenagers were sent off to towns in the countryside so they could continue to go to school and be away from the worst danger. This woman talked about sleeping in the bomb shelters -- if she slept at all -- and hoping for the "all clear" signal each morning around 6:00 so she could go to school. She also described her father lying atop her and her mother to protect her during one bombing raid. The tales she told were quite impressive.

Here in London, World War II is big on people's minds this week, as the city is commemorating the 60th anniversary of the end of the war. The biggest celebration is today, falling in between V-E Day and V-J Day -- though all of us are having trouble remembering the exact dates of each. The Mall, which is a wide street that connects Buckingham Palace and Trafalgar Square, is given over to WW II exhibits, and the Queen yesterday dedicated a memorial somewhere (I haven't managed to find it yet) to the women who served in the war. She also attended special services at Westminster Abbey this morning, and as result that building has been closed to tourists yesterday and today. Some of us are hoping it might re-open later this afternoon. I walked by Westminster Abbey this morning on a sightseeing and picture-taking stroll, and you would not believe how many police there were on every corner in that neighborhood.

It's been interesting to walk around town and see all of the WW II veterans walking to the events in their military uniforms, with their medals proudly displayed on their chests. Heck, if I had served and 60 years had gone by since then, I'd be proud just to be able to still *fit* into my uniform.

Yesterday as part of our bus tour we visited St. Paul's Cathedral, which will be 300 years old in 2008. This is where Prince Charles and Princes Diana were married, and where Winston Churchill's funeral was held. The cathedral was built between 1675-1710 (I guess it must have actually *opened* in 1708 while still under construction, if you're wondering how 2008 could be its 300th anniversary), and was the work of the architect Sir Christopher Wren, who was responsible for designing 51 different churches in a one-square-mile area of London.

Lots of famous and not-so-famous people are buried in St. Paul's Cathedral, including Lord Nelson, the hero of the Battle of Trafalgar (don't ask me what the significance of that battle was -- I can't remember!); Florence Nightingale; and Christopher Wren himself. Also buried here is the Duke of Wellington, who defeated Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo and who has an immense -- I mean immense -- sarcophagus in the cathedral's crypt area.

Even more cool people are buried at Westminster Abbey, apparently.

St. Paul's is a really tall cathedral and managed to survive the bombings of London in World War II, in large part because of a brigade of incredibly brave volunteers who camped out in its upper reaches during the raids. When the incendiary bombs would land in the cathedral, the volunteers would throw them into the street below or stuff them into buckets of sand to prevent the church from catching fire. Can you imagine positioning yourself on one of the highest points of the city during a bombing raid? That's pretty impressive. After each raid, Londoners took great pride and comfort in seeing the cathedral still standing.

There's lots more to say about London. To be continued!

Alderney, Dover, and now London

Since last I wrote, our cruise ship left the town of Portland and headed south to Alderney, third-largest of the Channel Islands (after Guernsey and Jersey). The Channel Islands are part of Britain but not exactly in the same way that Britain itself or Scotland is -- they're more akin to a territory or protectorate. And, because they're closer to France than to England, the signs around the dock are all in both English and French. (The first sign I encountered was one that warned against bringing animals onto the island, in order to prevent the spread of rabies, known in French as "Le Rage.")

We were late arriving in Alderney, because we had been late departing Portland, and that in turn was because we had to undergo extra screening upon our return to the cruise ship in Portland after the day's excursions. Everyone over here is very mindful of Thursday's terrorist bombings in London, of course, so we've been told to expect some delays here and there as security is tightened. Anyway, because of our late arrival on Alderney, we didn't have much time to poke around the town, but everyone enjoyed checking out the shops and the pastel-colored houses. I wandered off on a side street and encountered a large yard with a bunch of white swans drinking out of one of those child-sized portable swimming pools. Then we headed back to the cruise ship for dinner and packing as the ship set off for Dover.

I awoke this morning to see the famed white cliffs of Dover sliding by my cabin window -- this in turn caused another song to stick in my brain for a while, a Jimmy Cliff song done by Linda Ronstadt called "Many Rivers to Cross," which has a passing mention of the white cliffs.

We disembarked the cruise ship in Dover this morning and boarded a bus to London, where we'll spend two days before heading home. More on our London activities in my next posting.

Incidentally, there are five Channel Islands altogether. In addition to Alderney, Guernsey, and Jersey, there also is Sark, and -- my favorite name for an island -- Herm.

Random Notes on the British Isles

Here are some miscellaneous observations about the British Isles:

--The southern part of England seems to have been big on mining at one time. Tin mining has been mentioned a lot by our guides. It goes back to the medieval days, when the tin was used primarily to produce pewter. At one time, this area produced half of the world's tin. "China clay" is something else that they mined in the past and continue to mine in some places around here today -- it's used not only to make porcelain, but also as a filler in making paper, and (believe it or not) in toothpaste.

--We didn't see it, but there is a castle here at Portland called Pennsylvania Castle. It was built for John Penn, grandson of the famed William Penn.

--Around here, the tires that you put on cars and trucks are spelled "tyres." Cars are parked not in parking lots, but in "car parks."

--The car I most want to smuggle home with me is a VW Polo. It's like the Golf only a bit smaller. Great looking car and I'm sure it gets better mileage than most American cars. I haven't yet figured out, though, what I'll do about the fact that the steering wheel is on the passenger's side.

--We were boarding a tour bus the other day when the word started to spread that London and not Paris had just been awarded the 2012 Olympics. Our guide, who happened to be from France originally, said, "I heard an unconfirmed report that London has gotten the Olympics. For now I'll just carry on as if nothing happened."

--The weather has been in the 60s just about every day. The Brits say it's sunny, but where I come from, we call it "mostly cloudy." Today, however, is a spectacular day, with no clouds whatsoever.

We're on our way now to Alderney, one of the Channel Islands. These are a group of islands that belong to England but actually lie much closer to France -- like 80 miles from the French coast.

The English Countryside Continues to Amaze

Greetings from the town of Portland, in England's Dorset County, our third stop along the English Channel. If you haven't heard of Portland, which is really just a small island connected to the mainland by a spit of land, then you may have heard of the next town over -- Weymouth, a very colorful seaside resort. Our guide this morning told us that, now that London has secured the 2012 Olympics, this area (specifically Portland Harbor, I think) will be the site of the sailing events.

We drove through Weymouth on our way to Corfe Castle, one of many castles we've seen on this trip. At pretty much every port-of-call, you can be sure to have a castle and/or a set of gardens among your excursion choices. Corfe Castle turns out to be a set of ruins, but in many ways is much more interesting and picturesque than an intact or restored castle would be -- you can wander around the grounds, see the various turrets and other castle parts, use your imagination about what went on here, and take in the terrific views of the village of Corfe and the surrounding countryside. We even happened to have a steam train pass by below us while we were up on the castle grounds.

Corfe Castle was built in the time of William the Conqueror, almost 1,000 years ago. I forget which king lived there, but he once took a batch of French soldiers and stuck them in the dungeon and left them there until they literally starved to death. This also was the castle where some boy-king named Edward was murdered by his wicked stepmother so that his even younger brother could become king. I forget the name of the little brother, but they called him [Whatever His Name Was] The Unready.

The castle was heavily damaged in the Civil War of the 1600s.

This particular castle was built to guard the only gap in the local hills (the Purbeck Hills). A lot of the other castles around here were built to guard the seaports -- King Henry VIII had those built in the 1500s, out of fear of attacks from the French. (Paranoia about the French seems to be a big theme over the years.) If I heard the onboard lecturer correctly, not a one of the castles was actually ever needed -- the attacks never materialized.

Everyone has been marveling about the beautiful countryside we've been seeing from the bus -- as interesting as the actual destinations. This is Thomas Hardy country, we're told, and many of his novels were set here. In fact, an entire excursion today was devoted to visiting some of they key sites in his novels. The countryside is dotted with stone cottages, many of them with thatched roofs.

I mentioned that Weymouth is a very pretty seaside resort. It has a lot of colorful Georgian-style houses, a really colorful clock tower erected in 1887 to commemorate the 50th Jubilee of Queen Victoria, and a colorful statue of King George III. They love George III here -- apparently he visited often. There also is a statue in town of Queen Victoria, and as we passed it, we laughed out loud at the scowl on her face. Whoever sculpted that statue captured her infamous ill humor perfectly.

Other passengers this morning went to a Tank Museum nearby, and others to a swannery (a place where hundreds of swans and their offspring congregate). And quite a few went to Stonehenge, surely the most famous attraction around here. I got a report from one of the other Penn State passengers that both Sting and Madonna own estates here in Dorset County, not far from Stonehenge. Sting paid about £2 million for his -- that's about $4 million in U.S. dollars -- and spent another £1 million installing a recording studio. Just a little trivia for you.

Latest song to be stuck in my brain: "I'm Henry the 8th, I am" by Herman's Hermits.

Walking in Dartmoor

Yesterday afternoon, when the Minerva II was still at port in Dartmouth, a group of us boarded a bus and headed up to the southeast corner of Dartmoor National Park, near Haytor, for a walk across the moor. A moor is best defined as "a vast grassy expanse with patches of horse and cow dung at unpredictable intervals." Dartmoor National Park, like all national parks in England, is actually privately owned, and it's not uncommon to see horses and cows grazing throughout the area. We walked right by them on several occasions and they (unlike the townspeople of Dartmouth) were utterly unimpressed by our presence.

On the moor we saw occasional piles of huge stones -- the formations looked natural, but actually were the remnants of granite quarrying that took place here between 1820 and 1860. Our guide told us that the original London Bridge was built with granite from the Haytor Quarry. That's the London Bridge that, when it was taken down, was purchased by some guy in the U.S. and set up in the middle of a lake in Arizona.

We also stopped at a ring of stone that is believed to be the ruins of a prehistoric, Bronze Age settlement -- we're talking 2,000 years ago.

Along the walk we saw a lot of vegetation, including ferns, gorse (a spiny sort of plant), and bell heather. We also encountered a few birds, most of which were new to me: several wheatear and a male and female stonechat.

The walk was good exercise, but when we got back to the parking lot, I quickly replaced all the calories I had burned by buying an ice cream cone. The Devon area is apparently known for its dairy products (several people said to me, "Haven't you heard of Devon cream?"), and although all ice cream usually tastes pretty much alike to me, even *I* could tell how creamy this one tasted.

On the drive up to Dartmoor, we passed near the village of Slapton, and our guide told us about its role in World War II. Apparently the U.S. pretty much took over the town in 1944 so that 15,000 troops could train here for the D-Day invasion. The townspeople were given six weeks' notice to pack up their belongings -- including furniture, crops, everything -- and find a new place to live. The area was chosen because it most resembled the area of Normandy that would be invaded. During the course of the training exercises, there was an incident in which German boats snuck up on and ambushed some American ships, and more than 900 U.S. military men and women were killed -- more than were killed on the first day of the actual D-Day invasion. According to the guide, the U.S. government for the longest time denied that the tragedy had even happened, but some local guy made it his life's work to uncover the truth, and now I think there is a memorial around here somewhere to those who died in the attack off the coast of Slapton.

Both here and in Cornwall (the region we visited on the previous day), the bus drive took place on very narrow country roads with enormously tall thick hedges right up against the road on either side. There are times when it's almost more like a one-lane road.

I don't know about you, but my brain has a tendency to take the things I'm seeing around me and, without my even trying, dredge up songs that evoke those things. Here are some of the songs that have been stuck in my brain over the past week:

--"Edinburgh Town" (a song I used to play when I hosted the WPSU Folk Show)

--"London Bridge is Falling Down"

--"Brennan on the Moor," by the Clancy Brothers

--"The Wild Mountain Thyme," also by the Clancy Brothers (it has a line about "Oh the summertime is coming / And the trees are sweetly blooming / And the wild mountain thyme / Grows around the blooming heather....")

--"Molly Malone"

I can't wait to see what my brain comes up with when we tour the sights of London.

On the South Coast of England, Life Goes On

Here on the Minerva II, we got word of the bombings in London around noontime today, but so far everyone seems to be taking the news in stride -- even though we're scheduled to visit London starting on Saturday and fly out of there on Monday. The three travel directors on board from Alumni Holidays International, with whom many of us booked this cruise, are on top of the situation and trying to decide how to alter our itinerary (if at all) in light of the events in London. When we got back on the ship after the afternoon excursions, there was an information sheet in each of our rooms letting us know that they're monitoring the situation and that, at the moment, they intend to continue the tour as planned. Our hotel in London is near Scotland Yard and is in an area where security has always been high -- plus, in the aftermath of the bombings, we all figure that security in London will be especially high.

In the meantime, life goes on ... and today was a terrific day. I spent the morning poking around the town of Dartmouth, catching a ride on a small motorboat over to Dartmouth Castle and then coming back later to explore the streets and shops of the town. The motorboat driver had lots of questions for me about the cruise ship -- what is the itinerary, how many people are on board, where is the ship's port of registry, etc. Several other people I encountered in town and at the castle saw the Swan Hellenic cruise line tag on my camera bag and said, "Ooooh, you're from the cruise ship!" You would have thought Elvis had just docked in town or something. Apparently they get only about one cruise ship per month around here, and the Minerva II has never been here before.

A sign at Dartmouth Castle said that it was the inspiration for Chaucer's "A Shipman's Tale." You've all read lots of Chaucer, of course? (Right -- me neither.)

In town, I saw a church that was built in 1286, and a store called the Harbour Bookshop that had a sign in the window saying it had been opened in 1951 by Christopher Robin Milne -- son of A.A. Milne. "We carry a wide variety of Winnie the Pooh items," the sign advertised.

In the afternoon, a bunch of us went up to Dartmoor National Park for a walk across the moor. A British passenger on the ship this morning asked me if I had read "Hound of the Baskervilles," which is set at Dartmoor. "If the mist rolls in," she said, "watch out." I'm happy to report that the mist did *not* roll in during our walk. More about our walk in my next posting.

Oh, and by the way, those Pilgrims came over in 1620, not 1692 as I mentioned in a previous post. I *told* you that my facts can be shaky at times! :-)

If it's Thursday, This Must be Dartmouth

We woke up this morning as the ship was easing into the beautiful port of Dartmouth, in southern England. Yesterday we were in Falmouth, in the county of Cornwall; now we're in Dartmouth, which is in Devon. This is by far the best view out my cabin window of the trip to date. In Belfast and Dublin we were anchored at the city docks, which looked very industrial and grimy -- here we're surrounded on all sides by beautiful wooded hillsides dotted with colorful houses and, in the foreground, yachts and smaller pleasure boats on the water. I think I'll just quit my job at The Penn Stater, stay right here, and pursue a career in jigsaw-puzzle photography.

We actually are anchored / moored / whatever the term is (clearly I don't know my seafaring lingo well enough) in the River Dart. So we won't be able to just walk down a gangway and be on dry land; instead, they'll have to "tender" us in to shore in small boats. There are more than 600 passengers on the cruise ship, so this ought to be interesting. Actually, people go off the ship in dribs and drabs -- right now a bunch of passengers are disembarking for an excursion up the Rivert Dart and back by steam train; later, another bunch will disembark to go on an excursion to the Berry Pomeroy Castle; at some point another bunch head off on a visit to the Royal Naval College; and so on. I'm booked on an afternoon hike across a moor at Dartmoor National Park.

I'll let you know what a moor is just as soon as I find out.

As we arrive in any given port, you can turn the TV in your cabin to channel 34 and (1) see a closed-circuit camera view off the bow of the ship and (2) hear some guy talk about the town in which we're arriving. This morning I learned, for example, that Dartmouth is the port from which many of the Crusaders sailed ... and it also was the port from which the Pilgrims set off in 1692. (I *think* it was 1692 -- I sure hope you aren't holding me to all these facts!)

We're at about 50 degrees north latitude here; by contrast, Pennsylvania is around 40 degrees or so. One of the nice advantages of this is that the days here are *very* long. Sunrise today was at 5:18 a.m. and sunset isn't until 9:22 p.m. In Edinburgh we were, of course, even farther north, and on the first morning in the hotel in Edinburgh I woke up thinking I must have overslept, because the sky was incredibly bright outside. Then I looked at my alarm clock and saw that it was 4:40 a.m.

I'll report more later today.

A Fine Day in Falmouth

Our cruise ship, the Minerva II, is now ambling its way toward Dartmouth, our next stop on the south coast of England, after a day in port at Falmouth. By all accounts, it was a great day. Some passengers spent the day poking around the town of Falmouth, which has beautiful homes and lots of -- believe it or not -- palm trees. (This area is *very* temperate compared to the rest of England -- apparently the jet stream has something to do with that.) Others took an excursion to the Eden Project, which I don't know as much about as I should (just Google it if you'd like to find out more), and others went to St. Michael's Mount, a very picturesque castle that at high tide is on an island. At low tide you walk across a stone causeway to get to it; at high tide you take a boat.

But the most popular excursion, and the one I took, was to the town of St. Ives. It's a little hard to explain where this stuff is, but if you think of the southwest tip of England as kind of a backwards "L," Dartmouth is on the bottom of the horizontal leg and St. Ives is on the top. (That doesn't really help, does it?) Falmouth is on the English Channel, while if you drive just an hour north to St. Ives, suddenly you're looking out at the North Atlantic. Anyway, St. Ives is a lovely seacoast town, home to a branch of the Tate Gallery -- a popular art museum -- as well as many shops, cobblestone streets, shops, cafes, shops, small art galleries, shops, stone cottages, and shops. Did I mention how many shops there are in St. Ives? There is everything from art prints to jewelry to Cornish pastries (meat-filled, mostly) to surfing gear to fudge made with clotted cream.

Before this trip is over, I intend to find out exactly what clotted cream is.

Maybe even better than St. Ives itself was the drive to and from it. The Cornwall countryside is right out of a jigsaw puzzle -- lush green rolling hills dotted by stone buildings: stone houses, stone churches, stone walls, stone barns.

The ship pushed away from the pier tonight during dinner and is now headed toward Dartmouth, where we'll dock at about 8:00 tomorrow morning local time. After a day in Dartmouth, it's off to Alderney (one of the Channel Islands) and Portland (no, not the one in Oregon), then to Dover, where we get off the ship and head up to London for a day and a half.

Man, I could get used to this....

And Now We're in England!

Our ship left Dublin last night and traveled south on the Irish Sea, rounded the southwest corner of England this morning, and docked in the very pretty harbor town of Falmouth around 10:00 a.m. local time. Some passengers headed down the gangway right away and took shuttle buses into town (around here, buses are called motorcoaches). Others disembarked for a tour of St. Michael's Mount, a very cool castle that at high tide is surrounded by water on all sides. I'm with some other Penn State passengers on a tour that goes to St. Ives, which I'm told is a lovely seaside resort town chock-full of art galleries.

You know the poem about "As I was going to St. Ives / I met a man with seven wives ..."? Well, this is the very same St. Ives. I'll let you know if I see that guy.

Speaking of buses being called motorcoaches: Even though everyone in the cities we've visited speaks English as their first language, there still have been some words and phrases to get used to. Trucks are called lorries; elevators, of course, are called lifts; and when someone tells you that the motorcoach will be returning to the ship at "half five," that means 5:30. We also got a kick out of our guide in Dublin yesterday, who talked about something being so amazing that "your eyes will stand out on sticks."

We've enjoyed friendly rivalries with other passengers who, like us, signed up with this trip via Alumni Holidays International but who, unlike us, are not affiliated with Penn State. I keep running into a couple from Pitt who are *constantly* teasing me about being from Penn State, even though I assure them that I have a nephew who is a junior-to-be at Pitt. This morning in the Internet lounge I helped a gentleman from Michigan State who was having trouble logging onto his AOL account, and I told him that his problem clearly was his userID: tru2msu. Change that to "tru2psu," I told him, and you'll get right in. I had a nice chat with a couple from Georgia Tech this morning as we stood by the railing and watched the dock workers tie the ship to the pier. And I met a woman from Honolulu (I forget which school she's affiliated with) who told me "The only thing I know about Penn State is Joe Paterno."

This evening the Penn State travelers will gather for a reception in the Orpheus Room -- we have to stick to the port side of the lounge, because some Indiana University travelers will be having a party on the starboard side at the same time. I'll let you know if any hostilities break out. :-)

The Gardens in Dublin

Travelers on this trip can choose from a number of different onshore excursions -- castles, museums, walking tours, etc. -- and this afternoon a bunch of us chose to go on a garden-oriented excursion. First we were taken to the Helen Dillon Gardens -- Helen is sort of the Martha Stewart of Dublin, with an incredible set of gardens at her house and her own TV show, book, etc. We met Helen herself and her husband, Val, both of whom were delightfully welcoming. I'd ask Helen the name of a flower I had just photographed, and she'd say "Acanthus -- in the U.S. I think that would be Zone 6." (I didn't have the heart to tell her I had no intention of trying to grow these things myself.) Her husband, Val, has a great sense of humor; he made a point of telling us, "I own this house -- Helen is just the gardener."

After we said goodbye to Helen, Val, and Sir Reginald -- their wire-haired dachshund -- we left the Dillon house and headed over to the Dublin Botanical Gardens, an immense collection of old glass greenhouses, gardens, open space, and wooded areas. The Botanical Gardens were established more than 200 years ago and are home to all kinds of rare and beautiful species of orchids, palms, trees, you name it. There are plants here from all over the world, including some that are extinct in the wild.

Now we're all back on the ship and headed south through the Irish Sea. Overnight and/or early in the morning we'll round the southwest coast of England -- a point called "Land's End" -- and dock in Falmouth, where we'll disembark for more onshore excursions.

Rainy Dublin

Today we were greeted by two things as we disembarked the cruise ship in Dublin: rain, and a trio of musicians playing traditional Irish tunes at the bottom of the gangway.

Despite the rain, we had a good time exploring the city, with its Georgian architecture and fashionable shopping district along Grafton Street. Like the other cities we've explored so far, there is sculpture everywhere in Dublin -- two favorites for tourists to photograph are the one of Oscar Wilde and the one of Molly Malone ("the tart with the cart," as they call her over here).

Dublin is also, not surprisingly, loaded with pubs -- it's said that there are more pubs here than churches. We visited one pub that is at least 200 years old.

Dublin is also the home of Trinity College, founded in 1592. The campus has some very photogenic buildings, even on a gray day.

Along the way we learned a good bit about Ireland's history, including the impact of the potato famine in 1845: of the eight million people living in Ireland at the time, an astounding two million died in one year. We learned that, although Gaelic is no longer widely spoken and English is the country's primary language, every child must take Gaelic in school -- a hopeful sign for keeping that ancient language alive. And we learned of all the famous writers who at one time or another called Dublin home, including not only Oscar Wilde but Samuel Beckett, Jonathan Swift, and James Joyce, among others.

On the way back to the cruise ship after our morning outing, our guide sang "Molly Malone" (A.K.A. "Cockles and Mussels") to us, and encouraged us to join in on the chorus. It was a nice touch.

In Dublin's fair city
Where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
As she wheel'd her wheel barrow
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive, alive o!

[Chorus]
Alive, alive o!, alive, alive o!
Crying cockles and mussels alive, alive o!

More About Belfast

One dimension to the differences among people in Belfast, we learned on our tour today, has to do with loyalties to England vs. Ireland. This is probably a gross oversimplification, but at least in West Belfast, the Catholics generally would prefer to be a part of the Republic of Ireland, while the Protestants are happy to be part of Great Britain. In the Catholic neighborhoods we saw, for example, the city mailboxes painted in Irish green ... while in the Protestant neighborhood along Shankill Road we saw lots of British flags and a huge mural on a building's exterior wall commemorating the 50th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth's ascension to the throne.

I think the Good Friday agreement of 1998 put the allegiance thing to rest. Someone more knowledgeable about this stuff than I am could speak with more authority about this, but my understanding is that the peace accord included a provision that Northern Ireland would remain a part of Great Britain and that possibility of affiliating with Ireland was taken off the table.

The Good Friday agreement also called for the paramilitary folks on both sides to turn in their weapons by early 2000 -- this is called "decommissioning" -- but, alas, that hasn't happened.

Incidentally, West Belfast is where John Delorean had the factory to make his futuristic cars -- the ones where the doors opened like wings. If you saw the movie "Back to the Future," you may remember the cars.

Born in Belfast: singer Van Morrison, flutist James Galway.

Something we've seen in every city we've visited so far (Edinburgh, Stirling, and Glasgow in Scotland, and now Belfast in Northern Ireland): McDonald's, Subway, Burger King, and/or Starbucks.

When we wake up tomorrow (Monday) morning, we'll be in Dublin. While Belfast and the rest of Northern Ireland are part of the United Kingdom, Ireland is an independent republic. Until now we've been using pounds and pence as our money, but tomorrow we'll need to round up some Euros.

Belfast Works to Overcome its Image

Hello from Belfast, Northern Ireland, a city you probably don't think of as a tourist spot. The city's political strife and violence over the years has given it a bit of a black eye, but things have been relatively calm here since the Good Friday Agreement was signed in 1998, and Belfast is eager to show tourists that it's actually a great city to visit.

This morning we took a city tour by bus, with stops at Stormont House, where the Parliament used to meet (nowadays Northern Ireland is part of Great Britain, so it doesn't have its own Parliament anymore); the gorgeous Belfast Castle; and the Botanic Gardens; among other sites. Our cameras are getting a great workout. And we're learning a lot about the city's tumultuous history -- for example, political murals from both the Catholics and the Protestants can still be found on the outside walls of buildings in certain parts of town. We've also learned about Belfast's economic history. Two giant cranes near the River Lagan stand as almost a monument to the city's days as a shipbuilding center. At one time, 35,000 people were employed in shipbuilding; now the number is fewer than 100. Similarly, Belfast once was known for its linen mills, but the advent in the 1960s of human-made fabrics like polyester caused linen to lose its popularity, and now hardly anyone is employed in linen-making anymore.

On the subject of shipbuilding: Belfast is where the great ship Titanic was built. The city took enormous pride in that project, and mourned like crazy when the ship sank. A monument to the victims of the Titanic -- a number of whom were Belfast residents -- stands near City Hall.

Other sites we saw today include...

...the Europa Hotel, which was repeatedly targeted by car bombs during the worst of Northern Ireland's violence -- it is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the most bombed hotel in Europe;

...the Palm House, a very nifty greenhouse within the Botanic Gardens;

...Queens University, with a huge and beautiful Victorian main structure;

...the Prince Albert Clock Tower, which has a pronounced lean to it, not unlike the Leaning Tower of Pisa (though not quite as noticeable). The local joke about it is that now it "not only has the time, but also the inclination."

After dinner tonight the ship will set off for Dublin. All of the stops on this cruise are so close that there seems to be no danger of getting seasick -- the ship just takes its time getting from one port-of-call to the next. It's almost as if it just floats gently to the next stop.

British Isles Trip, Day 3

Greetings from the Internet lounge on the cruise ship Minerva II, currently in port at Greenock, Scotland. Greenock -- pronounced GREEN-uck -- is the birthplace of the engineer James Watt and the pirate Billy the Kidd. It's on the west coast of Scotland, and once we push off tonight, it's just a hop, skip, and a jump (84 nautical miles, to be precise) to Belfast, Northern Ireland, which is our port of call tomorrow.

We finished up our visit to Edinburgh this morning with some free time. A number of people went to Edinburgh Castle, while others just strolled around or took advantage of the chance to catch a little extra sleep in their hotel rooms. I went to Edinburgh Zoo, where the attractions included a new baby zebra, dozens of penguins, and some comical and agile ring-tailed lemurs. In the afternoon we boarded buses for the trip to Greenock, and along the way we had a pleasant surprise -- an unscheduled drive through Glasgow, on the river Clyde. Glasgow is larger than Edinburgh and not quite as charismatic, as it has been rebuilt several times over the centuries while Edinburgh still has many medieval buildings. But we're told that Glasgow has excellent shopping, second best in the U.K. (London of course being the best).

Our guide on the bus told us all kinds of interesting trivia along the ride, from the arcane (Edinburgh is the birthplace of John Napier, who invented the decimal point) to the sobering (Scotland lost fully one-third of its male population in World War II).

Tomorrow morning we'll arrive in Belfast, and travelers have a number of possible excursions from which to choose. I'll be joining some other Penn Staters on a tour of the city in the morning, and in the afternoon we'll head up the Antrim Coast through the glens to Glenariff Forest -- a very scenic trip, I'm told.

Day Two in Edinburgh

Today we piled into buses and headed off from Edinburgh to two sites that were crucial in Scotland's history: Bannockburn and Stirling Castle. If you've seen the movie "Braveheart," you already know about some of that history -- although one of our guides described "Braveheart" as "great movie, bad history."

The small city of Stirling is home to a castle that was said to be the key to Scotland -- whoever controlled Stirling Castle controlled Scotland. William Wallace -- A.K.A. Braveheart -- successfully defended the castle against England's King Edward I in the Battle of Stirling Bridge in 1296. They love William Wallace around here and there are several monuments in his honor.

I asked one of our travel directors if "Braveheart" was filmed at the castle and she said no -- it was filmed on a golf course in Ireland! In fact, there's a key battle scene where, if you look closely, you can see golfers teeing off on a hill in the distance.

Not far from Stirling is Bannockburn, where the Scottish king Robert the Bruce fought off England's King Edward II in 1314, in another of Scotland's many battles for independence. This was back in the days of chain-mail armor and metal helmets and all that -- also the era of hangings, beheadings, drawings-and-quarterings, and the like.

(Why is he Robert *the* Bruce? One explanation, according to one of the guides, is that he came from a long line of Robert Bruces -- his father was Robert Bruce, his father's father was Robert Bruce, and so on. So adding the "the" was his way of setting himself apart.) Like William Wallace, Robert the Bruce is a big hero over here -- there are several impressive statues of him.

Back in Edinburgh, the streets are relatively quiet this evening, the stores are closed, and police officers are all around -- the remnants of a large anti-poverty march held here today in connection with the G8 economic summit. We're told that activists formed a human chain around historic Edinburgh castle and even managed to hang a "Make Poverty History" banner from the castle for a time.

Meanwhile, I'm fascinated by the cars over here. The majority are *much* smaller and apparently considerably more energy efficient than the majority of cars in the United States. In addition to the cars you might expect in Europe, like Peugots and Renaults and Citroens, there are European variants of U.S. cars -- for example, the VW Polo looks like a downsized version of the VW Golf, and there's also the Nissan Micra, the Toyota Varis, the Honda Jazz, and the VW Ludo. There's also a make called the Vauxhall, with such models as the Vauxhall Astra and the Vauxhall Corsa. Some run on gas, some on diesel, some on petrol (which apparently is not the same as gasoline), and some on natural gas. Perhaps part of the reason that energy efficiency is so important is the fact that gasoline is about $8 a gallon right now!

Tomorrow we drive to the port town of Greenock to board the Minerva II, a cruise ship that will take us to Belfast and then on to the other stops on our cruise.

Greetings from Edinburgh

Greetings from Edinburgh, Scotland, whose name apparently means "city of beautiful old stone buildings and little tiny cars that drive on the wrong side of the street." It's Day 1 of a 12-day trip that will take us from this lovely Scottish capital to Belfast, Northern Ireland; Dublin, Ireland; and Falmouth, Dartmouth, Portland, Alderney, and London, England. There are about 140 travelers altogether, all traveling with Alumni Holidays International, and of those, 16 of us are from the Penn State Alumni Association -- the largest contingent in the bunch. Other schools represented here include Pitt, William & Mary, Emory, Wisconsin, Notre Dame, and many more.

We arrived today from all over -- one couple came all the way from Hawaii -- and, once settled into the hotel, had the day on our own. Some of the travelers toured beautiful Edinburgh Castle, others went to the National Gallery, and still others engaged in intensive "retail therapy," buying woolens and kilts, among other items. I wandered with my camera around the gardens just below the castle (they have roses the size of grapefruit!), then climbed the Scott Tower, a huge monument to Sir Walter Scott. The trek to the top is 287 steps, I'm told, though I didn't count -- I was too busy focusing on breathing. The reward is a panoramic view of this beautiful city. I also strolled the Royal Mile, a street chock-full of shops, museums, and pubs.

By the way, Edinburgh is pronounced by the locals as "EDD in burra" or an even shorter version: "EDD in bruh."

AHI treated us to a welcome reception this evening and outlined the game plan for tomorrow. Originally the schedule called for a tour of the city, but it turns out that the G8 economic summit will take place here next week, and in conjunction with that, there will be a massive march tomorrow called "Make Poverty History." Organizers are predicting anywhere from 100,000 to half a million people will take part in the march, so almost all of the stores will be closed and traffic will be a zoo. So the AHI folks have put together an out-of-town excursion: They're taking us to Stirling Castle and Bannockburn, two crucial sites in Scotland's long history. Quite a few of the travelers are especially delighted at the prospect of a visit to Stirling.

Our hotel is in a section called New Town -- around here, "new" means the 1700s! The Old Town, by contrast, dates to the 11th century. New Town is characterized by Georgian-style architecture, and in fact Edinburgh is said to be the largest Georgian city in the world.

I'll try to report again tomorrow.