Friday, November 11, 2016
England has a special place in my heart, my paternal Grandmother was born in London, her mother who lived with my grandparents during my teen years was born in Wales. London was my first destination in Europe, back in May of 1990. I identify as being ethnically English, though in all likelihood there is a fair amount of Irish and German ancestry in the family - we really have no idea where my mother's family comes from - her mother's answer was Ohio.
In many ways England is an easy place for Americans to travel to, language is less of an issue, the trains are fairly reliable and more modern than Amtrak, just don't try to drive. Driving on the opposite side of the road is an adventure for the young and arrogant - trust me - I rented a car for my first trip to London. When you see Trafalgar Square, Piccadilly Circus, and Buckingham Palace on TV, I have driven through and past them all. How I did it without hitting anything or running over a corgi or two I will never know. I was so lost, I paid a taxi driver to show me the way to the hotel, as I recall I gave him 50 pounds for a 20 pound fare, I was so happy to park the car.
A few years ago we met up with Mr Bert and his Mr Someone in York, and rented a house in a small village in Yorkshire for a week. Mr Bert and Mr Someone drove for the week. It was much saner.
It has been a few years since I was last in England, I recall thinking how London felt like a second home. I could settle into life there quite easily.
Where is your second home?