(The is the sixth in a series that begins with A Night in Steerage.) First of all, Beaulieu is pronounced “Bew-ly.”  Again I had been saying it as though I was in French class.  Sue said “Bew-ly” from the start. “How did you know that?” I asked. “That’s just the way we’d say it.” “You  Read the Rest…

(This is the fifth in a series that begins with A Night in Steerage.) Saturday, June 11 arrived.  This was the day I had planned my entire trip around.  The day of the St Leonard’s Church village fete.  We’ve all seen fetes on PBS mini-series: the big hats, the tea tent, local musicians, crying children,  Read the Rest…

(This is the fourth in a series that begins with A Night in Steerage.) One of the features of the day I spent in Bristol was that I didn’t have to know anything.  I didn’t have to look at timetables or figure out where stops and stations were.  I didn’t even have to know what  Read the Rest…

(This is the third in a series that begins with A Night in Steerage.) Glastonbury is a mere 3 ½ miles from Butleigh but it takes two buses to get there. The main road is too dangerous to walk and even if one were to brave it, it would be unpleasant what with cars whizzing  Read the Rest…

(This is the second in a series that begins with A Night in Steerage.) Butleigh is a small village in Somerset, a county west of London, north of Cornwall.  In previous trips to England I have spent most of my time in Cornwall because that is where I, in a sense, came from.  My great  Read the Rest…

I just returned from three weeks in England.  The plan was never to write blog posts while I was there because it takes me four hours to do a decent one and quite frankly I was too busy having fun.  But here is the first installment with many more to come as I attempt to  Read the Rest…