Dan’s meetings concluded yesterday afternoon, but we decided to stay over so Dan could enjoy another day in town. We turned out the lights and closed the blackout curtains with the agreement that we’d sleep until we woke up and then take on the day. We are here to testify that blackout curtains work: we slept through breakfast and woke up at 10:30!

With empty stomachs, we walked the 3/4 of a mile into town in search of lunch. As we approached the Westgate we noticed a large, beautifully painted bunny. As we stopped to figure out why it was there today and not the pervious days we were approached by a film crew and asked if we’d care to comment on the rabbit. Dan answered their questions and then they explained that each of the 32 sculptures displayed in random locations in Winchester and nearby Southampton are part of Hares of Hampshire. Each bunny (hare) is sponsored by a business and individually designed by an artist. They hopped into the cities today and will leave on the 25th of August. Donations for the Murray Parish Trust are received by text as well generated when the bunnies are actioned off in September.

With Dan’s celebrity taken care of, we strolled on and eventually chose The Ivy for lunch primarily because the beautiful day demanded el fresco dining. We lucked into an outside table in the shade of an umbrella and enjoyed wonderful service and a fabulous meal: grilled halloumi and panna cotta for me and fish and chips and crème brulée for Dan. The ladies bathroom deserves a word: wow! Imagine over the top in the best possible way. It was difficult to decided if the hundreds of plastic flowers smothering the ceiling were more or less eye catching than the salmon and gold Asian-inspired wallpaper above the chair rail or the marble tiles below. Add a statue of a naked lady, black toilet seats, pink marble counter tops, marble floor, mood lighting, and soft music and you’ve got yourself an unforgettable bathroom!

Next up: shopping. Dan has difficulty passing up a grocery store, so more than anything he wanted to browse both Marks & Spencer and Sainsbury’s in the center of town. One bag of groceries per store later, we headed for our first of three sites for the day: the City Mill on the River Itchen.

Winchester’s mill is one of the oldest working watermills in the country with over a thousand years of milling history behind it. Over the centuries the other 13+ mills in town closed, went out of business, were destroyed by fire or weather, or repurposed. This small mill had innumerable ups and downs too but was spared destruction by the skin of its teeth. During WWI, for example, it was used as a laundry and then fell into disrepair again but resuscitated when it was converted into a youth hotel in the 1930s. Thanks to the efforts and charity of forward thinking folks, it has been completely reworked and, once again, produces freshly ground whole wheat flour used locally and sold in the small mill shop. We enjoyed the video and small showroom that explained the workings of the mill and then went down to water level to see the waterwheel and grinding stones. On our way up from water level we noticed a dove that had nested in a damp, cozy corner. She was sitting on two chicks and did not seem to be concerned by her conspicuous location.

We did not go inside the cathedral when we took our visitor center tours the other day, so, groceries in hand, that was our second stop for the day. We lucked into an eccentric, fun tour guide who took us around and explained all sorts of interesting things. We saw the wooden choir carved in the early 1300s; the font dating back to the 1200s that is still used for baptisms; Jane Austen’s grave and her memorial wall; the small memorial to William Walker, the diver I mentioned previously who saved the cathedral; and a wall of figures that is totally white today but used to be painted in vivid colors with jewels for eyes. We passed the stone coffin of an influential, wealthy man and noticed that four little men were carved into the stone at the feet of the deceased. We learned that the belief at the time was all souls went from earth to purgatory on their way to heaven. The more prayers coming from the living on behalf of the deceased shortened the time in purgatory. So, these four little dudes represented the priests that the deceased had left funds to in his will in payment for their fervent prayers for his quick passage through purgatory.

Winchester boasts six military museums all situated within yards of each other. I was interested in the Gurkha Museum in particular. Gurkhas, soldiers from Nepal who have been recruited into the British Army for the last 200 years, are renown for being fearless in combat, loyal, professional, and brave. The small museum was very well done and told the story of how the British gained their respect for these fearless fighters and how they have been deployed for combat and peacekeeping all over the world.

Our evening was spent packing, enjoying a light dinner on the patio, and preparing for our early pick up for our return flight tomorrow. If all goes well we should walk through our door at home about 16 hours after we wake up tomorrow morning.

With no hesitation we agreed that Winchester was well worth a visit.

… Oh Really …

Colin Firth was born in Winchester.

Dan and I chose the Gurkha Museum over the others because of our visit to Nepal in the 1970s
and our friendship with the UK’s own David Osborn who told us stories of their exploits.

Per the custom of the day, funerals were attended by men only, so even Jane Austen’s
beloved sister could not attend her funeral in the cathedral.

Fresh flowers are at Jane Austen’s grave all all times less the Easter season.
They are provided by the American chapter of the Jane Austin Society.

Jane Austen died in Winchester while seeking medical care, but
she lived and wrote all her novels in a cottage in Chawton, 16 miles from here.

Low key but nice is the best way to describe today, my second day on me own, as they say here. Who would not be seduced by a soft breeze on a sunny, 73 degree day?

With a light breakfast of fruit and porridge, again…as they say here, I headed to town to see the small City Museum. The three galleries weave together Winchester’s journey from its Iron Age beginnings to the Romans’ arrival in 70 AD to today. Much was a review of our two tours a couple days ago, but it was nice to see it laid out in an orderly fashion.

The museum has a lot of small artifacts uncovered over the years by archeologists, construction workers, surveyors, and ordinary criticizes. They ranged from items used in domestic life, trade, construction, and fashion and include things like a toilet seat, coins, and jewelry. Two recipes were offered: one for honey cakes and another for, yum, hot boiled goose with cold sauce. A few things caught my eye. One was a bronze horn from the 1100s used by the city crier to summon the freemen to assemblies. It was discovered in a chest in 1898! I also enjoyed seeing the carved bone combs used by privileged Roman women.

Hypocausts were explained and there was a nice mockup of one. This heating system, used by the wealthiest Romans, relied on raised floors supported on piles/pillars of tiles. Heat was generated outside the house and directed to these under-floor spaces. There was a similar system up the walls for the really fortunate folks. Imagine how much wood was needed to get through a cold winter! Speaking of the Romans, a large mosaic from the reception room of a villa owned by a powerful family was discovered under layers and layers of dirt and debris. It was lifted from its original location in 1969.

The centerpiece of the museum is a huge model of the city as it was in the 1870s. It was easy to see how prominent the cathedral was surrounded by the ordinary low lying structures back then.

Yesterday I saw a beautiful new statue of a woman holding the hand of a child with a dreidel. Today I learned it is a likeness of Licoricia, a very influential 13th century businesswoman. She loaned money to ordinary citizens and raised money for the likes of Henry III as well as projects like Westminster Abbey. Sadly her business acumen, education, gift for languages, and popularity did not trump her being a Jewess. Her faith cost her a stint in the Tower of London and was presumably the reason this single mother of five was murdered (at home).

With a brain full of history, I headed to a sunny seat at an Italian restaurant for a late lunch and soon struck up a fun conversation with a middle aged fellow on lunch break from jury duty selection. We chatted until 2:30 when he was expected back at the courthouse and I was ready to find a toy store and shop for Evy’s first birthday. From there I trekked back to the hotel and spent a quiet couple of hours reading and writing in the shade of the front porch, big glass of water in hand.

Dan has a fancy pants dinner tonight, so he and the others left me to dine alone on delectable salmon and a berry crumble! Underachiever that I am, I’ll be heading to bed with a mere three and a half miles under my belt today.

… Trivia …

The River Itchen is a chalk river which, by the way, is a pretty cool (and rare) thing.
It rises from springs in bedrock made of chalk. Since chalk is permeable, water naturally and easily percolates up through the ground to the surface. Since the river does not rely on runoff from other places, the water is crystal clear and fishing is highly prized.

The UK’s first public library was in Winchester.

The official Monopoly Winchester Edition was released in 2017.
Public landmarks such as the cathedral, Great Hall, and King Alfred’s statue are featured.

Dan’s favorite gin, Bombay Sapphire, is distilled 17 miles north of Winchester in Laverstoke.

Chalk today up as ideal!

After another proper English breakfast, Dan headed to his day-long meeting and I headed to my objective for the day: the Hospital of Saint Cross and Almshouse of Noble Poverty. By the way, in this context hospital refers to (free) hospitality, not medical care.

I had read that the grounds are renowned for “the tranquility of the setting and the beauty of its architecture,” and I agree wholeheartedly. The hospital is one of England’s oldest continuing almshouses, and surprise of surprises, with a capacity of a mere 25, they have vacancies. I would have guessed they’d have a waiting list. Each elderly resident, or brother, is allocated his own self-contained flat which dates back to the fifteenth century. All flats are on the ground or first floor and typically have a sitting room, bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom.

One of Winchester’s enormously wealthy bishops founded the hospital in 1132 to house 13 poor, feeble men and to feed one hundred men. The original 13 residents became the Brothers of St Cross. In this case brothers refers to friendship; they were not and are not monks, so St. Cross is not a monastery but a secular foundation. Medieval St. Cross was endowed with land, mills, and farms, providing food and drink for a large number of people which must account in part for its beautiful setting today. Interesting tidbit: although right on the river, the water was unfit to drink (think waterborne diseases like cholera and typhoid). Bring on the ale and beer!

The compound, built of stone (with lots of flint), is comprised of two quadrangles with a well maintained green space in the center. There are residences on two sides, a large medieval kitchen (not in use today), a meeting room, beautiful church that looks more like a miniature cathedral than a typical almshouse chapel, an ancient graveyard, and a large, eye poppingly gorgeous garden with ponds and countless blooming plants. I was the only visitor, so I strolled around and slowly took it all in, stopped at the small gift shop, and then enjoyed tea and a date bar at the 14th-century Brethren’s Hall designed to seat the brothers and the 100 poor men. The weather being ideal, I chose a small table in the courtyard rather than in the hall.

The most direct route from the hotel to the hospital was down the main road. Not picturesque or terribly interesting, but I chose it this morning for its efficiency. I took the long, beautiful way home, though, which is a well-marked trail that follows the River Itchen back to town. The trail was well maintained and popular, especially with dog walkers who had their happy dogs off leash. There were loads of birds, a few cows, ducks and ducklings, and a swan pair. The trail had the narrow, clearwater river on one side and green space and sports fields on the other. The stroll was straight out of a Jane Austin novel. Some lucky residents have homes along the river and have built private little bridges that access the trail.

I popped into a few shops in the city center and then headed back to the hotel to relax before dinner with Dan’s group. They included me and the other plus one for a delicious dinner at a steakhouse in town. By the time we walked to and from I had clocked seven and a quarter miles! Time to call it quits.

… Good News for American Travelers …

It’s official: Americans are no longer required to get a covid 19 test before reentering the U.S.
We are now free to cancel the tests we have scheduled at Heathrow the morning of our flight home.

Although masks are not required in transportation hubs or on aircraft,
Dan and I, both vaccinated and double boosted, still wore ours in the airports on both ends of the trip.
As Matt would say, ”Safety first, Mom.”

Our last meal was yesterday afternoon, so we dug into our traditional English breakfasts (eggs, potatoes, mushrooms, pork and beans, broiled tomato half, bangers [sausage], and the best bacon ever) this morning like champs and then walked downtown to catch the Visitor Center’s 11:00 walking tour. Our guide was wonderfully informative and fun. Hoping for the same with the afternoon tour, we took a break for a cuppa and took our chances. The afternoon guide had us all to himself and must have found us delightful because he gave us an extra 45 minutes of his time.

History, history, and more history, all wrapped around, in no particular order, the Iron Age, Romans, Anglo-Saxons, saints, the Dark Ages, powerful bishops, Normans, the woolen industry, immigration, monasteries, Christianity, civil war, the plague, London’s development, and the political and religious ups and downs over 3,000 years. Our little jet lagged brains were close to bursting when we called it a day and headed back to the hotel for dinner with Dan’s coworkers.

We learned the importance of a cathedral way back when: no cathedral, no city charter. Winchester was the second town to get a city charter which meant it did not have to go to the king for decisions large and small. The imposing cathedral, with the longest medieval nave in Europe, contains the remains of numerous influencers of centuries past as well as Jane Austen and ancient monarchs of Wessex and Winchester.

Fun story: part of the cathedral was built on rafts floating on a peat marsh. For 800 years the rafts were able to bare the weight, but by the 19th century the cathedral was in danger of collapse. Solution: hire a deep water diver, in this case William Walker, to shore it up. He worked in his diving suit (in the dark with 280 pounds of diving equipment) for six straight years and used an estimated 25,000 bags of concrete, 115,000 concrete blocks, and 900,000 bricks to accomplish this astonishing task. Sadly he died of the Spanish fly in 1918.

Thomas Thetcher’s gravestone was pointed out to us before we left the cathedral grounds. A soldier, he died at 26 from drinking bad beer, which is stated on the stone. The guide explained that when Bill Wilson, a founding member of Alcoholics Anonymous, served in the first world war he spent some time in Winchester. While here he visited the cathedral, was enthralled with the light that came through the stained glass, and noticed this particular stone. The combination of these things played heavily in his success in starting AA. Our guide said members of AA and their families come from around the world asking to visit this particular grave.

A complete sidebar but related to cathedrals: our afternoon tour guide is an actual bell ringer! He shivered when I admitted I thought all the bells I’d heard were from a recording. He said lots of church bells around the world are still rung proudly by hand with up to 14 ringers working at one time! My ‘come again’ look inspired him to show us some pictures. He has even had the honor of ringing the bells at the National Cathedral in Washington DC.

We strolled by Winchester College, a boarding school founded in 1382 for the sons of the influential. It is touted as the oldest continuously running school in the country. Its student body of around 700 still uses the original medieval buildings. Shocking fact: the very first women will be admitted this coming academic year!

All that remains of Winchester Castle is William the Conqueror’s Great Hall, a treasure from the 13th century. It’s long and narrow with a stone floor and magnificent wood ceiling. Hanging on the wall at one end is the greatest symbol of medieval mythology, King Arthur’s round table. The reality of a real King Arthur is still debated, but the issue of the table being his has finally been laid to rest. If Arthur existed, he lived in the 700s. Modern technology dates the table to 1290. It is beautifully painted with a likeness of Henry VIII and a Tudor rose.

Our stroll from place to place took us through beautiful small parks and gardens and the house where Jane Austin died. We learned about handkerchief trees, so named because their flowers look like white handkerchiefs hanging from the branches. We passed buildings, walls, and gates made of flint and learned this brownish colored stone was a) obviously plentiful in the day and b) made millennia ago of countless petrified sea sponges. We did not see that coming. We heard the sad story of an innocent lady as we stood in front of a centuries old timbered building. She went on trial on trumped up charges as a sort of revenge move to get back at her wayward but powerful husband. The jury found her innocent. The judge said try again. They found her innocent a second and third time and the judge said try again with the caveat that if they did not get it right this time they would all go to prison. Sure enough, she was finally found guilty and beheaded in front of the building where we stood. The judge wanted her burned to death but the king insisted that some mercy be shown.

Bishops were The Man way back when and wielded tremendous power both in the church and in national politics. They were also enormously wealthy. We walked through the ruins of the palace complex of the bishops and could not imagine how sumptuous and intimidating the complex would have been in its heyday.

Our last stop was at a small gate to the city, one of two that remain. Made of flint, it is two stories high with a small chapel upstairs. Travel was dangerous, so it was customary to stop at what is today a 14-bench chapel to ask for God’s blessing as you ventured forth. Upon your safe return prayers of thanksgiving were given. This simple chapel is still used today.

Our day was a complete success. Partly cloudy and 70 degrees. We were hungry, but mainly with six miles under our belts, we were glad to get back to the hotel and put our feet up before dinner.

… For What It’s Worth …

Literature bears out that IF there was a King Arthur, Winchester was Camelot.

Nothing indicates that Thomas Thether was an alcoholic.
Since water carried too many diseases, beer and ale were standard.

In 1966 when we were in high school the novelty song Winchester Cathedral by The New Vaudeville Band hit the charts. It rose to #1 in the USA and to #10 in the UK.

Had our visit been two weeks from now we could have enjoyed Britain’s longest running
festival of street theatre: the Winchester Hat Fair.
We, with 30,000 others, would have overtaken the streets to watch a mix of circus, clowning, and outlandish performances rounded out with craft stalls, workshops, and music.
It’s free but apparently lots of hats are passed around for donations.

Dan and I flew to London last night, the 10th, to allow for some free time before his business commitments begin in Winchester on Monday, the 13th. Our seven hour fight took off on time and arrived early. As we approached London from the air the landscape looked like one beautiful, multi-shades-of-green patchwork quilt. As we got closer and closer the squares slowly began to fill with thousands upon tens of thousands of structures and by the time we landed the landscape was 99% buildings. It was 70 degrees, partly sunny, ideal.

Immigration was mobbed, but it did not spoil our mood. What did put a bit of a damper on things was the fact that Dan forgot to get his hang-up from the flight attendant before we deplaned. So once we collected our luggage, we headed to United’s helpdesk. One full hour later, with hang-up in hand (phew!), we found our driver and slowly headed out of London. We landed at 10:15 and got to the Winchester Hotel at 1:30, 14 hours after we left home.

After a quick panini and fries lunch in the lobby bar we grabbed a map and headed to the city center. The walk was all downhill and easy. Some of the streets we strolled were originally laid out by Alfred the Great who chose Winchester as his capital waaaaay back in the day. Think late 800s. We passed iconic looking pubs; half timbered buildings; monuments to folks long dead from periods long forgotten by all but the most enthusiastic historians; medieval Westgate and debtors’ prison; the magnificent guildhall; small, beautifully landscaped parks; and lots of modern shops and restaurants on High Street, the equivalent of our Main Street. With a population of around 35,000, Winchester is a now a quiet market town with obvious civic pride.

As we were sneaking a peek at the storybook Saint John’s Almshouse a resident happened to come in the gate, so we struck up a conversation (act surprised) and she invited us to stroll to the end of the private walk to get a good look at the outside of this charming housing complex. It is part of the almshouse initiative with the mission of ”…providing an inspirational community where older people (sometimes of limited means) are empowered and enabled to live full and rich lives through quality care and support, housing and friendship.” There are some 35,000 such houses in the UK! This one is right downtown which our new friend said was ideal.

Dan grabbed an ice cream before we headed back to the hotel to put our feet up. Dan ended the long day reading British newspapers in the lobby with a Bombay Sapphire and tonic to keep him company, and I went to the room for a shower and to work on this beguiling summary of our day.

… By the Way …

Winchester is 63 miles southwest of London and 12 miles northeast of Southampton
where we left on our cruise earlier this year.
If you want to make us look bad, just ask if we knew that before we arrived today.

This is my second trip to Winchester.
I was first here in 1985 when Walter sent me a ticket to surprise Cleone on her 40th birthday!
It was my first time in Europe and one of the grandest gifts I have ever received.

A big ole happy clown on the sign high above Angie’s Circus City Diner welcomed us to a comfort food lunch when we pulled into Hugo, a town of less than 6,000. The name of the restaurant and the clown pay homage to the fact that 22 different circuses have headquartered here over the past 85 years, with as many as a dozen at the same time. Today three call Hugo home: Carson & Barnes, Kelly Miller, and Culpepper & Merriweather. 

Hugo, approximately nine miles from the Texas boarder, was not founded as a circus town. It was a railroad hub with a wild west flavor by the early 1900s. Its location in the Red River Valley with plenty of water, temperate climate, and wide open spaces coupled with easy rail access made it a good fit for tent shows needing a place to spend the off season which typically ran from November through March. What a fun, colorful, wacky place Hugo must have been during those five months.

It was because of the circus history that Cleone, our organizer extraordinaire, centered this summer getaway here. We rallied in Tulsa: Hettie and I flew in from the East Coast, Cyd and Deb joined us from neighboring Arkansas, and Pat drove down from Missouri.

Our first stop was at Mount Olivet Cemetery to wander the section called Showman’s Rest. This special area was established in 1960 for showmen and women from around the country “…who do not rise for next spring’s journey” to be laid to rest near one another. This rectangular area is marked off by granite posts, each topped by a small elephant statue. It put smiles on our faces to see that someone had placed one unshelled peanut next to each elephant. In the center of this section is a large headstone with a carving of a performing elephant up on two feet. Underneath is etched “A Tribute To All Showmen Under God’s Big Top.” Unique headstones like this one are the attraction of Showman’s Rest. The main entrance of a circus and the requisite ticket booth are etched into a headstone. Jack B. Moore’s headstone is actually carved into a model of a big top tent. The headstone of the “Tall Grass Showman,” Ringmaster John Strong, is nine feet high and shows a life-size Strong in a top hat. A wagon-wheel monument for Ted Bowman reads “Nothing Left But Empty Popcorn Sacks and Wagon Tracks.” Ms. Woodcock is shown standing on the head of an elephant that is sitting on its haunches. Not all of the headstones are uniquely shaped or etched. Some are unremarkable and others have interesting inscriptions: “We have had the good life, but the season ended. ” and “The man with more friends than Santa Claus.” Coins had been left on numerous headstones as well as a few small plastic circus animals.

A complete departure from the circus theme but totally worthwhile were the recommendations of the caretaker who pointed out the resting places of four rodeo legends including “Daddy” Whatley, the Real Cowboy Association’s All Around Cowboy of 1947 and the Bull Riding Champ of 1953; Freckles Brown, who rode the never-before-ridden bull, Tornado, in the National Finals Rodeo in Oklahoma City in 1966; and Lane Frost, a young bull rider gored to death during a rodeo performance. Brown was Lane’s idol and he always said if anything happened to him he wanted to be buried next to Brown. Wish granted. Lane’s headstone is in the shape of a championship rodeo belt buckle and Brown’s is tall with a tribute on the back to both his rodeo backstory as well as his service in the Chinese Theater during World War II. “The Marlboro Man” is carved into the gravestone of Max Bryan “Turk” Robinson underneath a facsimile of his certification as a member of the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association. He was, more correctly stated, “A Marlboro Man,” since many men filled the bill but none as effectively as real cowboys, rodeo riders, and stuntmen, one of whom was Turk.

Cleone pointed out one last headstone before we left. William Ansley’s stone is shaped like a little boy’s lace up shoe, apropos because he was one of a couple dozen little people who traveled the country donning a blond wig, Little Lord Fauntleroy outfit, and Dutch-boy haircut. Ansley, aka Buster Brown, traveled with a dog named Tige and represented the brand for 27 years. He and his lookalikes were in large part responsible for making Buster Brown the world’s best selling children’s shoe. He was so beloved that when he died in 1972 his obituary appeared in The New York Times!

Totally pumped for all things circus, we headed from the cemetery to Growling Pines Tiger Preserve owned and run by a seventh generation circus wife, Elaine (whose specialty is bears), her tiger-loving husband, Ryan, and their daughter, Lilly. They traveled the country for years doing educational and entertaining shows for fairs, circuses, conventions, schools, etc. but yearned for a permanent education and retirement facility for their animals. Their plans began several years ago but came to fruition during the Covid-19 pandemic.

Elaine and Ryan have already constructed a nice covered viewing stand and performance ring, have restroom facilities, a sound system, small gift shop, and ample free parking and are in the process of expanding their forever home for rescued, retired, and performance tigers. Eight of their twelve tigers have been performing for and educating folks with Ryan for years, so the show has gone on, as the saying goes, without having to deal with the logistics of travel.

Our little group had a private tour (thank you Cleone). Picture six old ladies decked out in plastic safari hats sitting in the bleachers learning all things tiger. Ryan was a superb host and walked us through the appallingly small population of wild tigers left in the world, less than 4,000; the life span of wild and in-captivity tigers, 8 years vs. 15; diet; habits; personality differences; subspecies; etc. all the while petting and hugging Zuri who is admittedly his favorite.

With the educational preliminaries out of the way, we moved into the entertainment part of the experience. On command Zuri stood on her hind legs and stretched as far up on the fence as she could totally dwarfing Ryan and looking pretty darned intimidating to us. Three other tigers, one female and two males, joined Zuri and did whatever Ryan asked. Three lined up while a fourth jumped over them, one sat up like a dog begging for a treat, all four walked slowly in a small circle shoulder to shoulder and then laid down on command, one sat on the back of another, one even walked the length of the arena on its hind legs. They all moved to and from their assigned seats when Ryan gave the requisite commands. The reward for each behavior was a piece of sirloin on the end of a feeding stick. Cleone had shared the fact that we were celebrating Cyd’s birthday, so Ryan used washable finger paint and, with Zuri’s cooperation, created tiger foot prints on a canvas and gave it to the birthday girl.

We all fell in love with Growling Pines’ vision and mission and left with immense respect for this family that is dedicating its resources and time to such a noble, largely unrecognized cause. Our one-hour experience turned into two with all our questions and enthusiasm. Remember: viewing is free but touching could cost you an arm and a leg.

With a full day behind us, we headed across town to the Endangered Ark Foundation which is a private non-profit with a mission statement built on three things: providing a retirement ranch for circus elephants, ensuring the future of Asian elephants in North America, and educating the public about this endangered species. Our hostess extraordinaire had arranged for the rental of two small cabins right next to Foundation grounds. We checked out the brand new, totally charming cabins and then went immediately to the raised viewing stand where we threw carrots to three eager elephants; enjoyed a pizza, salad, and cookie dinner; and surprised Cyd with elephant-themed gifts.

With temperatures in the low 90s all day, we were excited to jump into the tiny showers. One by one we fell into bed clean and very excited about the prospect of an elephant delivering breakfast.

We six were poised on the porch, cameras at the ready, the next morning at 9:00 when Delrita came lumbering around the corner with her trunk curled around a picnic basket. The birthday girl had the honor or receiving it from her. Anticipating a treat of some sort, our personal pachyderm lingered patiently as we fed her bananas (peels on), carrots, and leftover cookies from last night. We put some in her trunk and she gingerly picked some up from our open hands. We riddled the trainer with questions which he patiently answered while we patted Delrita’s head and trunk.

After Delrita sauntered home, we enjoyed our breakfast, relaxed, packed up, and got ourselves to the barn in time for our private (yes!) experience at noon. Karen, the guru of Endangered Ark Foundation, promised Cleone (a frequent visitor and one-woman advertising machine) that she would make our experience special and she did! Just like the tigers, it did not disappoint! Again, picture six old gal pals sitting in bleachers all by themselves wearing plastic safari hats with the addition of matching elephant scarves when in strolls Delrita holding a Happy Birthday sign. (Enough with the birthday already!) Cyd was promptly given a birthday cupcake and Delrita was asked to blow out the candle. We had a demonstration on how the elephants’ feet are cared for and why that is important; learned that elephants only have four (huge) teeth…and we got to hold part of one; met the youngest member of the 16-member heard, a two year old; scrubbed Delrita with soapy water and hard bristled brushes; and fed a bucket of celery to two females who have partial trunk paralysis. Like the birthday girl had not been celebrated enough, Delrita stood patiently on three feet while foot four was slathered in finger paint. On command, she rocked back and forth on the painted foot and made Cyd a footprint.

Deb and I bought t-shirts and paid to have Delrita sneeze finger paint onto them. To the delight of the other four, we took turns standing with our arms outstretched, mouths closed, and glasses off about three feet from the end of her trunk. When the trainer said “blow” she blew. It was an instant-long gust of wind for each of the two colors that delivered splatters of paint on our shirts with a few spare splashes on our shoes, pants, necks, and faces. We now understood how Cyd ended up with frosting splattered on her shirt after her candle was blown out. Speaking of the birthday cupcake, Cyd fed it to the star of the show before we left.

Food started our visit to Circus City, USA or the Sarasota of the Southwest and ended it with a delicious lunch at Buffalo Grill. Totally enthralled with our educational, fun, and interesting trip to Hugo, we thanked Cleone, also our chauffeur, all the way back to Tulsa for taking such care with each detail of the trip!

…For What it’s Worth…

Hugo was founded in 1901 and named for the French novelist Victor Hugo.
Am I the only one who didn’t see that coming?

A coin on the headstone of a veteran lets loved ones know that someone visited the grave.
A penny signifies appreciation for the veteran’s service.
A nickel means you trained at boot camp together.
A dime suggests you served together.
A quarter signifies a visitor was with the deceased when (s)he passed away.

Elaine’s parents plan to be buried in Showman’s Rest when their time comes.

Growling Pines does not have a breeding program.

Daddy Whatley was shot to death in 1966.
Freckles Brown died of cancer in 1987.
Lane Frost was 25 when he was killed. The movie 8 Seconds tells his story.
Turk is still living but plans to be laid to rest at the site of his tombstone
that was put in place when, sadly, his son was buried.
William Ansley died of cancer in 1972 at the age of 80.

Sarasota, Florida has been known as a circus town since the 1920s when it became the winter home of the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey circus. It still hosts circuses as a matter of fact. Totally beside the point: Cyd, her daughter Jen, and I recently visited the circus museum there and found it well worth the price of admission! Cleone was there a few years ahead of us and recommended it.
It’s hard to get ahead of Cleone!

Dan considers it a perfectly planned packing job if his abundance of emergency clothes are still untouched and I consider it perfectly planned if my suitcase is filed with dirty clothes with not a clean thing left to wear. In both regards and so many others, this was another perfect trip. Thanks to Hettie and Ronnie for selecting the cruise and for being fun playmates and to our enjoyable and informative wait staff, cabin steward, concierge, tour leaders, and entertainers! Rain was forecast for most days of the trip, but we did not get sprinkled on once, so the weather was an extra bonus.

This morning we were up at 5:00 and in our rallying location at 6:00 waiting to get the all-clear to disembark, collect our luggage, get tested, and board the correct bus for our transfer to Heathrow. Once we were dropped at the airport (about 9:45) we scrambled inside to get on Wi-Fi to check our email for the results of our covid tests. Phew! With negative tests in hand we checked in, went through security, got comfy in the lounge, and occupied our little selves for four and a half hours before boarding our 4:40 flight home. Hettie and Ronnie’s morning was much the same as ours except their flight home was two hours earlier than ours.

Without the usual headwinds, we landed in Virginia early, just after 7:00 local time, midnight in the UK, after a pleasant flight. Food, a book, and two movies (Cyrano and Encanto) made the time go relatively quickly. With no wait for luggage, beautiful weather, and no traffic issues, we walked in the door at 8:45 and somehow managed to stay awake until 10:00 having been on our feet, so to speak, a full 24 hours.

Sidebar

The only little cloud that loomed over the trip was the need to have a
negative covid test within 24 hours of checking in at the airport for our flight home.
There were announcements most days updating us on the additional guests
who had tested positive (and confined to their rooms) plus the one guest speaker
and two entertainers who were sidelined by negative tests.
Even though we wore our masks in common areas throughout,
we were still a little nervous about getting home.

By far the largest number of fellow cruisers were from the UK. Because
a) the cruise started and ended there and b) all covid restrictions have been lifted in the UK,
the number of people being tested was relatively small.
With the assurance that no quarantine would be awaiting them once off the ship,
few Brits wore masks or worried about partying in large groups late into the evening.

Walking around Bruges is like strolling through the Middle Ages. It’s distinguished by romantic canals, cobbled streets, and medieval buildings. It was a stroke of brilliance years back when the town planners realized they might have a little tourist gold mine on their hands, so they decreed that all new construction in the old part of town must be built to look like the Middle Ages making it nearly impossible to tell a one hundred year old structure from one that is six hundred years or older. Clever devils those town planners!

Centuries back Bruges was an influential market town and trading center. Our guide explained that a weather event of massive magnitude altered it’s just-OK harbor into a fabulous harbor which slowly morphed into the busiest harbor in the Western Hemisphere. With that came lots of wealth, influence, power, and building projects. This is evident in the 14th-century city hall with its ornately carved exterior and handsome spires, 13th-century belfry with a 47-bell carillon and 272 feet tower, two-and-a-half acre Market Square, breweries, churches and a cathedral, impressive city gates, and even hospitals. We strolled the narrow streets and alleyways and took a boat ride on the scenic, fairytale canal.

As we entered town we saw a Beguinage, something we had never heard of. Our guide explained that only 10% of the town’s men came home from the Crusades leaving a lot of wives and young women with few prospects. A solution was to form a lay community of religious women who lived together, much like nuns do, without taking vows or retiring from the world. Beguinages could be shared single dwellings or a collection of buildings situated around one or more courtyards. The one we passed was clearly an impressive court beguinage.

Another interesting tidbit the guide shared had to do with the advent of pubic baths and their decent into something a bit less respectable. Seems Catholics were not all that big on hygiene back in the day, so there were no facilities for bathing in the city. Travelers, traders, pilgrims, and soldiers returning from the Middle East, where the practice of bathing was part of their faith, shared tales of baths and wanted the same luxury in Bruges, so slowly pubic baths immerged. They were very social spaces where you could linger and even share a snack. In due course ‘other services’ were made available and pretty soon the humble bathhouse was the not so humble brothel. We passed a nice plaque that told the story of this progression and eventual outlawing of these popular and numerous dins of iniquity.

Belgium became an independent nation in 1815 when the boarders were inadvertently established in such a way that Flemish is spoken in 60% of the country and French in 40%. Bruges is in the Flemish area, but with eight million tourist a year, mostly day-trippers, getting by in English is not a problem. There are 60 chocolate shops in town and, of course, we popped into a few. You will know soon enough if we brought you a treat. Lace is a traditional craft here and shops still sell it. French fries are actually Belgian fries, as they were invented in Belgium, so sampling some was basically required. Who doesn’t love Belgium waffles? We bought a delicious, hot, made-to-order one on the street.

Dan and I lived 80 miles south of here for two years way back in the day, so we had been to Bruges several times, but it was still exciting to come again after 30+ years. Other than a sharp increase in visitors, the town looked unchanged which is just what the town planners of yesteryear as well as today had in mind.

Once back on the ship we got busy organizing ourselves to disembark tomorrow. Luggage had to be in the hall by 10:00 PM, so after a long, fun, farewell dinner we finished packing, put our bags out, set our clocks back an hour, and headed to bed.

For What it’s Worth

Chocolate is not a traditional industry in Bruges even though it plays prominently there now.

Bruges boasts a museum dedicated to the humble French fry. 

 The diamond trade in Bruges predates that of Amsterdam or Antwerp, cities now famous for diamonds. The technique of cutting diamonds and polishing diamonds
using diamond “dust” was first used in Bruges over 500 years ago.

The swans that usually add a charming touch to the canals are all in quarantine because of a bird flu.

Bruges was liberated by the Canadians during WWII.
In tribute to the troops who came to their aid, the city installed two huge bronze bison
at the entrance of a small bridge. Quite unexpected.

The port of Zeebrugge in northwest Belgium is about eight miles
from Bruges and is the largest car terminal in the world!

What was supposed to be a low-key sea day was actually pretty busy. For starters we slept so late that we barely made it to lunch: Dan joined Hettie and Ronnie and grazed the buffet and I dined with my book at a lovely window table in the dining room. Next up: spending the rest of the cruise credit (it couldn’t be redeemed for cash) on additions to my jewelry collection. Then it was time for the 2:00 matinee by our new celebrity crushes, the Shamrock Tenors. From there to Future Cruises to tease ourselves with places we have never been before and finally there were the issues of luggage tags and covid testing procedures for our flight home. No rest for the weary today.

Dinner: it was chic attire night, so we dressed up and enjoyed a lobster dinner. Ronnie promised us a joke but couldn’t remember it, so Hettie told us the origin story of the expression ’cold enough to freeze a monkey’s balls off.’ Trust me, it is not what you think and it has nothing to do with primates.

Entertainment: Tonight’s saxophone player had to cancel, so The Knights are doing an encore performance.

Temperature: a cloudy, breezy 55

Today taught us five ways to avoid looking like a rookie:

1. Refer to an establishment that distills cognac as a house of cognac (maison de …).
2. Refer to an establishment that specializes in Bordeaux as a castle of Bordeaux (chateau de ….).
3. Refer to the Atlantic as the sea (beautiful sea view) when on the west coast of France.
4. Refer to a catholic house of worship as a church and a protestant house of worship as a temple.
5. Study the in-room dining menu a little closer, so you do not order four breakfasts instead of two.

After eating the best of four breakfasts, we joined our tour. First stop was a house of cognac being run by the fifth generation of the same family. The House of Normandin-Mercier in Dompierre is currently in the hands of a brother and a sister. He is the nose, as they say, and no doubt she is in charge of everything else. Or not. Grin. The approach to what used to be the family’s spectacular 18th century summer home was like entering a destination in a romance novel. Fields on both sides of a tree lined pebble driveway. Iron gate. Metal water pump emptying into a stone trough full of flowers. The whole scene oozed charm.

The distillation process was explained to us (by the sister…wearing a red beret and waist-length cape…for real) as well as where the grapes must come from in order to be considered cognac. We saw casks and barrels and an antique distillery, tasted samples, and had the opportunity to shop.

From there it was off to La Rochelle, a port city laid out 1,000 years ago. Think limestone, limestone, and then add some more limestone. The buildings, walkways, and roads are all basically the same color creating a monochromatic landscape. There is little automobile traffic, by design; lots of bicycles, again by design. We slowly strolled the old town while our guide shared fun information and pointed out the old fortified port flanked by two towers, hidden streets lined with arcades, ancient wooden houses, and the stately mansions of families who owned plantations in French colonies during the days of slavery.

We visited a lovely church with a special corner dedicated to those who braved the high seas in the 17th and 18th centuries to immigrate to Canada and later to what would become New Rochelle, New York. There was also a machine that looked very much like an ATM except it took your money in the form of electronic donations. City Hall was unique with its sundial, turret, and small courtyard. A nice touch was seeing the Ukrainian flag being flown alongside the French and EU flags.

An historical sidebar I found fascinating: in the 12th century La Rochelle became what was known as a free city meaning it could govern itself, make unique agreements and create student and business exchanges with other countries, and basically not do the king’s bidding. Free cities were very rare and the fact that La Rochelle was one speaks to its influence in France and the trust the king had in its governance.

A more current sidebar about La Rochelle: About 40 years ago a mayor with an eye to the future introduced the idea of moving his city in the direction of becoming green. Electric buses were introduced; flat pavers for strollers, walkers, and wheelchairs were incorporated into the cobbled walkways; bike paths were added; and the use of free bicycles was introduced. Those things and more are fully integrated into life here.

As we approached the harbor, two surprising things were pointed out. Even though rugby rules, we passed a baseball field. Seems the sport was introduced to the city during both world wars and is still played today. Germans had bases all along the French coast during WWII. La Rochelle was a submarine base, so we passed huge concrete structures that were used to house, maintain, and repair the German subs.

Dinner: As usual we chowed down like champs. For dessert a small cake was delivered to celebrate Dan’s impending retirement.

Table talk: In celebration of the Army’s 246th anniversary I brought a little quiz I stole from the June 2021 issue of Military Officer magazine.

Weather: breezy, sunny, and 70

A complete aside: Murphy is in Paris on business, a mere five hour drive from here.