Since my American family and friends just celebrated Mother's Day, I thought the timing was perfect to talk about our UK Mother's Day trip (one of the many blog posts piling up from my lack of blogging!!). This is celebrated in March, so I get the distinct pleasure of celebrating being a mother not once, but twice a year!

The week of Mother's Day rolled around - we didn't have any plans and the weather looked to be beautiful and sunny, so I decided to book a last minute trip. Since becoming parents, we've had to do all kinds of planning for trips, from getting a lap infant sorted, to finding hotels that are kid friendly with baby cots, to just plain hauling ourselves to the airport. Needless to say, it felt invigorating and terrifying to be booking that hotel on Thursday for a check-in on Friday.

For our first spontaneous weekend, we kept it somewhat local though (there's only so much last minute pressure for a mom to handle) and headed to the Cotswolds which had been on our bucket list for quite some time.

Due to the last minute reservations and the holiday weekend, hotels weren't easy to come by for a decent rate, so we ended up a bit further south than we would have liked, but our hotel was great. We were at the Hare & Hounds in Tetbury and as we travelled with Belle, I thought the theme was quite appropriate! Since we left after work, we arrived just in time for dinner at the pub before bedtime rolled around.

The next day we had a packed schedule that was pretty ambitious. I had planned for stops in 4-5 different towns for meals, shopping and a wander down the high streets.  We started furthest away and worked our way back.  With this, our first stop was Chipping Campden.  I had no idea what to expect of any of these places other than a 30 second online search, as all had come from co-workers. But I quickly was reminded of why I love English towns the moment we started walking.




After passing through a gorgeous old market hall area, we stumbled upon some locals with stalls out on the street. One was giving away free bread, the other selling some locally made jam. Pretty clever marketing idea there as we came away with olive bread and 3 jars of jam. We ended up near the church which had beautiful vistas out across the fields behind it. After chatting with a local, she pointed us towards the public footpath which she thought would give some lovely views and be a great walk for Belle.



If you haven't heard of the public footpath, it may seem a weird concept, but basically a public footpath (or right of way) is a path which can be used by the public at all times, even if it's on private lands.  Public footpaths often take you right through private farms, with sheep and cows roaming about, most often with kissing gates or stiles to keep animals in and allow people through.  With the sun shining, backdropped to a historic church and sheep, it was quintessential England and a reminder of how I love the outdoors culture here (at least when the weather is nice!!). Belle loves these kinds of walks and was totally in her element, and both Belle and L were curious about the sheep.




After picking up a few bites for a picnic, we made an unscheduled detour to Dover's Hill for our picnic as it was another local recommendation. Spontaneous mom forgot about the reality of toddlerhood, and plans were dashed when L fell asleep within 5 minutes of getting in the car.  So, rather than picnic with views, we picnicked within feet of the parking lot! The sun was shining and we had cheese and crackers, so not too much to complain on there. Before heading to our next stop, we drove past Broadway Tower long enough to snap a picture.



Next on the list was Stow-on-the-Wold. I was most excited here about their church, which I had seen online and on social media, with old, twisted trees growing from the doors of the church (a bit like an English version of Ta Phrom). I seem to have some kind of man vs. nature of obsession, and so these made it on my list of must sees.



We found ourselves falling into a routine in each town - site, shopping and the most important part, ice cream. We left the ice cream too long on this stop, causing L to become hangry (she takes after her mom!), so we hurriedly found a shop and the perfect place to enjoy it, the old gallows.  L didn't seem to mind and found the whole thing quite humourous!



Our last stop of the day was Bourton-on-the-Water.  It was the busiest of all the places we had visited, and after we waited 15 minutes for a parking spot in the car park then joined the floods going out from their cars into the city, I wasn't so sure about it.  Luckily, we snagged a spot on the canal anding L enjoyed feeding the ducks some of the last bits of our free bread. The tension eased away and the village's charm began to work its magic.



Here, the shops overlooked the canals which seemed to be the life source of the area.  Pubs offered gardens for the chance to enjoy not just the views, but a pint, which seemed like a perfect combination to us. So we tried our hardest to get the last slivers of sunlight, and even though we failed miserably to do so in the crowded pub garden, all in all, it seemed perfect.



The next day, we weren't nearly so ambitious having learned our lesson, so our main stop was The National Arboretum in Westonbrit which was only a few minutes drive from our hotel. It was a huge area with lots to cover, and I imagine is probably prettier when flowers are actually blooming. But despite a little sun, it was a bit cold and windy, so we walked for an hour before deciding to get ourselves back to the warmth of the car.



The final stop was the famed row of cottage houses in Bibury.  The town looked so cute as we drove in, but as luck would have it, yet again L was sleeping. Paul let me out in the town and I walked down the hill to the row.  While so quaint looking to me, I began to realise some of the downfalls for the locals of this kind of fame. There were constantly people in front of these houses, posing in door frames, getting selfies, trodding in the plants in front. Imagine trying to drive down  your street, hang out in your pajamas with the windows open or just enjoy a quiet cup of tea!



Before hitting the road, we lollygagged a little, watching the trout make their way upstream, watching others trekking down the row and revelling in a little time away. At only 90 minutes away and with plenty left to explore, I have a feeling another trip back to the Cotswolds is in the cards.

In 2005, I made my second trip to the UK with my grandparents and sister. This was the time I really fell in love with the country and its cities full of cobbled streets, stately old homes, countrysides dotted with sheep, all of it steeped in history.  We were part of a week long cruise that went to coastal cities in England, Scotland and Ireland. One of our final stops was St. Ives - unlike Edinburgh or Dublin, I'd never heard of it before, but immediately knew I needed to come back.

Me circa 2005 - ignore the fashion sense ;)

After moving here, I kept telling Paul we needed to go, but it is so far to make it to St. Ives by train, so we hadn't quite done so yet. With a car, it became (slightly) easier, so we decided last May to give it a go for an extended weekend. After researching, we found that in addition to the distance, my beloved St. Ives was perhaps no longer the sleepy town I remembered, so we booked ourselves into Port Gaverne instead - shortening our drive in the process!

Road trips with 7 month year old babies and a dog are guaranteed to take longer than the allotted time, so after a few hours and stops for nappy changes, potty breaks and feedings, we arrived in Cornwall. Last year we had gotten an English Heritage membership and looking around Cornwall, discovered Tintagel Castle was not too far from where we were staying, so we made a pit stop there before checking in to our hotel.


The castle's claims to fame are beautiful coastal vistas and as the place King Arthur was conceived. While there's no verification to the latter, the views are beautiful.  The castle was built in the 1230's and is set on a cliff, spanning two hilltops with narrow, winding staircases leading you to and from. Not much of the castle remains, but you can see why someone would want to build a home there, regardless of it's connection to King Arthur.


We weren't the only ones to enjoy it, Belle was in heaven! From the water (where we let her off for a brief moment of joy despite the leash rules), to the green hills, she ran and sniffed as only the happiest of dogs can.

The town itself was bustling as well - being a bank holiday weekend and a sunny day meant the crowds were out. To tide ourselves over before lunch, we decided upon some ice cream, but not just any ice cream...... clotted cream ice cream. If you've ever had a proper scone in the UK, you know nothing beats Cornish clotted cream. So other than St. Ives, all I needed to convince me to visit Cornwall was the promise of clotted cream!



The next day, we met up with one of Paul's old co-workers who had retired and now lives in Cornwall (apparently you can't consider yourself a local if you don't go WAY back). We both brought along the dogs and went for a walk in Daymer Bay. The weather wasn't quite as much in our favour with winds and rain, so we didn't make it as far as we'd hoped. Luckily, you only had to go just over the hill and through the determined golfers to get to St. Enodoc's Church, a church built into the dunes in the 12th century.  After that, we decided the best place to be was inside, so went back for a Sunday roast at the pub and a cuppa by the fire.


Monday, was May Day. I had never really put two and two together here, or thought May Day was anything other than a day off. Luckily, Paul had heard about the 'Obby 'Oss Festival, so we decided to take the ferry across to Padstow to see the excitment.


The festival is centred around the hobby horse or 'obby 'oss and is considered the oldest dance festival in the country. There's the blue ribbon 'obby 'oss (peace 'oss) and the old 'obby 'oss, and throughout the city, different 'oss are represented by their supporters with red or blue ribbons. They parade throughout the day with music and dancers following in their wake and eventually meet up at the May Day pole. The pole was beautiful despite the grey backdrop, covered in ribbons and was more than I could have expected from my first May Day festival.



We missed the first parade, but luckily there were several throughout the day all across the town. It's impossible to avoid joining in the fun and crowds when the 'oss passes you by. There's a superstition that says if you're caught under the veil of the 'Oss you'll be pregnant within a year, so we several times heard the joke about it being a good time at the festival last year. Luckily I was spared having to dance with the 'Oss, but it was still quite the festive time.


Before taking the ferry back, we queued up with half of the other revellers to get pasties (pronounced past-ees) from the Chough Bakery. Of course we made sure to get the true local variety with clotted cream and steak.  As it was just starting to rain, everyone was vying for the same seats, so we decided to take the pasties to go for the ferry ride.


As the ferry arrived, L was still sleeping so rather than wake a slumbering baby, we decided on a walk on the beach. Belle loves the water and dives right in, jumping over waves and pretending to fetch sticks while playing. It's so much fun to see her in her natural element and I can't wait til the day it's a toddler and a dog playing fetch together on the beach.


On our last day in Cornwall, we decided to stay local. Our hotel was in Port Gaverne, a small fishing town, but a (very) short walk to on the coastal path took us to Port Isaac. I would have also thought it a small town, but apparently it's famous as it's the setting of the popular show Doc Martin.

St Endellion Church, Port Isaac

We were determined for afternoon tea, so we wandered from one end of the town to another. We found a roadside standing selling magnets and jam that was off a take your own, honesty policy. We stumbled upon a church, a restaurant that was shutting for the day and a hotel that looked to be basically closed.  Such is your luck when visiting a small town over a holiday weekend I suppose! We decided to head back to Port Gaverne and the weather decided to take pity on us and offer up blue skies for the walk back, affording us a lovely vista over the water and town.  Before leaving, our hotel was offering afternoon tea complete with scones & Cornish clotted cream to give us one last taste of my Cornish obsession before heading back to London.

I had dreams of my maternity leave - using it to get out and about London to visit museums and the sites, perhaps with an occasional weekend trip. Paris anyone?

Then baby arrived and I realised quickly that it might not work out as I had imagined. And I've been very happy with that, as I have to say there is nothing better than having a baby curled up against you as they sleep contentedly.

However, when Paul had to take a trip for work within the UK, I decided I'd rather tag along (somewhere with room service!) than sit at home alone with the baby for a few days. So we packed up the car with baby, dog and lots of baby gear and hit the road.

We were staying in Whitchurch at a golf resort and spa; I thought we might be able to walk into town to see the sights, but it seemed as if both town and sights weren't exactly in walking distance.

So the first day, we packed up the car again and headed out for a small trip - to dip my toes into handling baby and dog out on my own outside my 1 mile comfort radius in Chiswick.  We visited checked out English Heritage for a site near us to visit and stumbled upton Moreton Corbet Castle.



Originally built in the 12th century, it's stone facade was built in the 13th century and remodeled in the 16th century.  It fell into disrepair when the family moved in the 18th century, and while it is managed by English Heritage, it is still owned by the family.  There's not much importance to it, which I think is almost more interesting! Imagine someone coming to look at the ruins of my house 500 years from now!



The next day, feeling more confident, we decided to go out for a walk for the dog at Fenn's Whixhall Bettisfield Mosses. It claims to have one of the biggest and best raised bogs in Britain (whatever that means), but we were looking maily for a place for Belle to run around and let loose.



We drove in and parked by the canal. We decided to start our trek there and walked along the canal path. About 10 minutes into our walk, we crossed over the border from England to Wales. From there we decided to head inland.  Our whole walk, we had only crossed paths with one other couple walking with their dog, but once we headed into the mosses we were completely alone. It was muddy out there, but that made no difference to Belle - she was in heaven! We wandered for a while but then a huge rain cloud was approaching so we dashed back to the car and decided to make it a night in, room service and all!



So that Paul could get in on some of the sightseeing, we had booked one extra night in Whitchurch. So Saturday morning, we slept in (as much as you can with a 2 month old baby) then squeezed in one final sightseeing stop at Beeston Castle. I had wanted to visit it during the week, but oddly enough it was only open weekend days.

The castle offered two walks - the woodlands walk and the castle walk. So we decided to take the woodlands route, thinking it would be scenic and something Belle would like. We were right on both counts - Belle sprinted, jumped logs, ran back, chased squirrels and was generally the happiest dog alive as we walked through trees full of the autumn reds, oranges and yellows. Where we were wrong in our thoughts was that the path would take us to the castle. She told us a 30 minute walk and 25 minutes later we ended up right back where we came in.




A little rain was starting to sprinkle and the baby was getting quite heavy to carry but we persevered, intent upon getting to the top of the castle.  When we got to the top, while the castle wasn't much, the views were worth it.  With views stretching across 8 counties, it reminded me of the simple beauty of the English countryside, filled with greenery, fields and of course sheep.


Unfortunately the rain was looming, so we snapped a family photo and scurried back down to leave. Before we left, we were persuaded to purchase an English Heritage membership though, meaning we'll have lots more English adventures in the next year!

While a new baby means I'm not getting as much sleep as I'm accustomed too, it means I get a lot more time to catch up on television and movies during all those late night, early morning, midday, afternoon and evening feedings.

In the first month, I'd watched all of How I Met Your Mother, Call the Midwife, and several movies including Pride and Prejudice (old and new).  It was then I realised it had been almost exactly a year since I had struck out like Elizabeth Bennet in the Peak District of England and I had yet to write about it. Call it baby brain, call it pregnancy fatigue, but either way, I've fallen seriously behind on the blog in the last year!

On to the Peak District though. I've always been an Austen fan, even in high school. I remember curling up on the tiny sofa at my friends house (3 of us on what was surely meant to fit no more than 2 people) and watching the best Pride and Prejudice, the BBC version of course. In those days it was VHS, so we had to get up every hour to pop in each of the five tapes. If we were short on time, we'd skip ahead to the 4th and 5th tapes since that's the best part anyways.

When a friend came to England to visit who is also a Pride and Prejudice fan, we decided to head north to see some of the stately homes for ourselves.

While a car is definitely helpful in the area, we decided to take the train first to Sheffield rather than fight London traffic getting out of town on a Friday afternoon. We stayed in the city and really only had time to hit up the pub, where we couldn't decide if we were insulted or flattered that they didn't consider us to look 18, so had to be IDed.  We were happy to get out the next day and start off in the country.



Our first stop was Chatsworth House, but we had a little drive to get there.  In the films, you see the beautiful, green rolling countryside and it didn't disappoint during our visit.  Whether it was sheep grazing on a hillside, beautiful rock walls along the lanes or oceans of grass, green from the rain, there was something beautiful everywhere we looked.  The lanes were a bit narrow though, so bravo to my friend for navigating the unfamiliar terrain on the other side of the road! She was such a trooper for driving the whole trip.




Chatsworth House dates back to the 16th century (although there was a manor house before that) with the Cavendish family who still reside in the house today as it has been passed down through the generations. It is odd to think of these as family residences, the objects as someone's prviate art collection, rather than the museum associated with historic homes.  The collections inside held everything from rocks, to plates, to the usual sculpture and paintings.



While the insides were lovely, we were excited to check out the gardens, especially since it was a lovely sunny day.  We successfully navigated the maze, past water features and then around to the back for a look down the long lawn at the familiar facade.




Except on this occasion, the facade wasn't so familiar. Chatsworth House is familiar as Pemberley from the BBC Pride & Prejudice, and you probably recall the fountain out on the lawn as you get a beautiful look at the facade.  Except during our visit, there was a temporary contemporary art feature on with rocks and teeny tiny little snakes, rabbits, birds and other creatures spread out amongst the area.  Slightly disappointed, we still circled around looking for the scandolous sculptures of men and women hidden among the rocks.



The next day, we headed further further west just to the outskirts of the Peak District to visit Lyme Park. This is a hunting estate also dating back to the 16th century, owned by the Legh family until it was donated to the National Trust in the 1940's. Can you imagine growing up in a place like one of these?



After seeing Pemberly, we figured this was a perfect way to round out the trip as the setting of the oh so imfamous lake scene from the BBC Pride and Prejudice (so famous in fact they erected a 12 foot statue in the Serpentine in Hyde Park for a short display). The grounds were beautiful and on a sunny day full of everyone with their dogs on walking holidays. We walked around the house, but decided not to trek out to the lake itself, which was a bit further set out from the house.





Then, like most weekend trips, it was over too soon and we were back to London, and like most of 2014, I was heading off somewhere else the next day.  The Peak District has plenty more to offer though, so it may require hauling Paul, Belle and the mini Tart back out there for a visit!

I've decided it is time to re-visit my much neglected blog.

And with the recent release of Jurassic World, the timing couldn't be more appropriate to tell you all about our recent(ish) weekend at the Jurrasic Coast! (I promise I will still make it back at some point to tell you about everything we've done in 2015, and some of that 2014 stuff like SE Asia. Yikes am I behind!!)

For the second year in a row, Paul's participated in a charity fundraiser with his work. Typically focused around team building and/or some type of physical challenge, last year, he tackled Snowdonia with biking, running and kayaking. This year, the task sounded simpler - a 26 mile hike on the Jurassic Coast, all done in 1 day.

While I was in no condition or of the inclination to walk 26 miles, I was curious about the Jurassic Coast. It is in fact named after the era when dinosaurs used to roam here and where fossils are often still found, from ichtyosaur skeletons to sea monsters. So, with explorations in mind, I tagged along on the weekend "getaway."

Belle and I started off enjoying a bit of the local area of Swanage. As luck would have it, that day was a big day for rowing there. All morning, the boats were headed out to row across the bay.  We grabbed a seat near the beach and tried (only somewhat successfully) to follow what was going on.




As we had crossed over on the chain link ferry into Dorset, I had noticed a beautiful sandy beach.  It was quite a walk, so Belle and I took the bus over to Studland Beach.

Not only is the beach beautiful, but it (like many random things you may stumble upon in Europe), has a history to it as well. This area was a training ground for Allied forces leading up to D-Day, and many troops departed from this area in Dorset to Normandy.

Nowadays though, there are few reminders of its history, other than signs warning you to watch for unexploded ordnances upon your walk.



It was a beautiful day, perfect for walking barefoot and dipping our feet (and paws) into the water. I made plenty of stops to rest, relax and enjoy the scenery. Further along the walk, the naturist portion of the beach came up.  Unawares of what I was walking into, we continued through.  I have to say my education of differences between American and British English was expanded that day!



After 2 miles, Belle was spent - at least that's the story I'm sticking to! Luckily, there was a lovely cafe at Middle Beach where we snagged another outdoor picnic table, along with afternoon tea & scones.  While I had wanted to head to get better views of Old Harry's Rocks, I realised that Paul was probably nearing the end of his walk, so Belle and I went to cheer him over the finish line.



Not much remains of the walls of this castle, which is understandable given it's 1,000 year history. The castle's towering keep (think the Red Keep from Game of Thrones) still shows how imposing this castle was back in the day, especially set up on the hill looking over the surrounding town.



During our visit, there was a falconry display putting us into the mood of what people may have experienced all those years ago, although wandering the ruins, it's hard to truly imagine how people lived there.  Half an hour was all we needed to roam what's left, then we were back out past the falcons, through the gates and onto London.

It was the perfect weekend trip and reminded me how much England has to offer (and how much more we have to explore!)

One of the many things I love about London is all of the culture. Not only are there tens and likely hundreds museums around the city, many of them are world renowned and almost all of them are free to visit.

Amazing.

I've tried the British Museum, Victoria & Albert, Natural History Museum, National Gallery and a few weekends ago with a friend and art buff in town, we went to the Tate Modern.

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Even the outside of the museum gives away the modern art it holds. The building, up until 1981 was a power station. When the Tate took over, rather than re-make the building, they simply re-purposed it, so you can see evidences of it's past life throughout, but none more so than the facade that greats you as you walk up to the building.

While it was my first time to the museum, she was a veteran and knew the lay of the land, so we decided to first try the special exhibit for Paul Klee.

To be honest, I knew nothing about Paul Klee before this trip. I learned quite a bit though (at least a little of which I remember). He was a German artist at the beginning of the 20th century, who was a skilled musician and painter, but decided to stick with painting.

His work is modern art, but it's a bit all over the place. Some are more like Picasso & cubism, others are a bit less abstract (although we're not talking impressionism still).

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My favourite of course were the pointillist paintings. While not quite the Seurat paintings I love, it's still interesting. And with Klee, the paintings look like nothing much when you stand across the room, but the closer you get, the more the detail and meaning pop out at you.

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Once we finished with the Klee exhibit, we made the rounds of the rest of the museum. I've always been a fan of the more traditional art, so some interested me but some not so much.  We found our way back out to the Thames (with a quick pit stop at the cafe, although it's a fantastic place to stop for an afternoon tea), and off to take in more of everything London & it's museums have to offer.