Sunday night we began our trek. The flight to London was reasonable amidst the surprising snowfall along the East Coast. The movie showing on the flight over kept my mind occupied as the seats kept me from sleeping.
We landed at Heathrow Airport. Famous for the long lines and unexpected delays, it did not disappoint.
We were able to secure some friendly help in getting us from the airport to Reading (about an hour bus ride).
Our relative, Jennifer, picked us up and we headed to their house in the village of Pangbourne along the Thames.
As we sat next to the fire in their 19th century home, our conversation turned to and fro, landing on everything controversial and exciting.
We spoke about England’s relationship with Scotland, the popular attitude toward the royal family, religion, conservation, house construction, education, The Pound, English History and the like. Martin and Jennifer explained life in their village and also London. We quite enjoyed our evening.
After a warm meal of roast, roasties, vegetables and Yorkshire pudding we again sat by the fire and discussed our plans for the following day.
Evidently our reputation preceded us for the train station in Reading was closing down for the week and we would need to take a mixture of buses, trains, and the Tube to get to Old London.
Our bed was warm and sleep came quickly. The movie from the flight kept my mind questioning, could this be a dream?
On the road