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Travel Blogs from Stratford-upon-Avon
... two loose teas as presents for the other couples. We met for lunch (nothing to write home about, so I won't) before heading to the Kilns, the home of C.S. Lewis. One of the other guys had a connection with the C.S. Lewis foundation, so we were hosted by the director, Dr. Debbie Higgens, with a private tour of the house complete with a lovely afternoon tea in the drawing room. A highlight of our trip, learning all kinds of interesting ...
... we managed without a glitch. The first mooring at Oxford didn't feel very comfortable and since a bigger boat hadn't come back downriver, we decided that we could get under a 10'6" bridge. It wasn't so much the height as the curvature that was challenging as we needed to be right in the middle of the channel. The reward was beautiful moorings right in the heart of ...
... called Jack took us on a tour around the streets. He was knowledgeable, and entertaining with a dry sense of humour and we enjoyed his tour very much. We saw an ancient, crumbling monastery, a beautiful cathedral and many other things but mainly we enjoyed his stories
Later in the afternoon we went by coach to a pub for drinks and entertainment – locals singing and dancing. Typical Irish entertainment. Toe-tapping, knee slapping. ...
... we looked around and it was old and had paintings of old famous people on the wall. One was Henry VIII and his 6 wives. We then walked out and got some lunch then headed off to cricket at Wolverhampton. Our team batted first and scored 206 runs so the other team needed 207 runs to win and got that with 3 balls to spare. We lost but it was a very close game. When cricket finished we went back to the motel and had dinner at the bar. I had a grilled gammon steak served with eggs, peas and ...
... marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! It is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come: