England November 2006

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This is a highlight of the trip:

The festivities ended after a long Sunday lunch. The French side of the family decided to take a refreshing walk before heading back to Paris on the high-speed train (a mere 2-hour trip.) The Scottish grandparents, who took a liking to me because they couldn't understand even the English-speaking French, tagged along. (I loved talking with them. He is an avid Married with Children fan: "In America, even the dog gets pocket money.")

Mr. Pinault asked a waiter where we could walk, and he told us there was a "public footpath" down the road. Apparently, in England, "public footpath" doesn't always involve a "path," just vague signs with arrows that cut across large grass fields. So two dozen well-dressed people in heels and polished shoes trudged through a oozing, muddy field next to a rowdy game of soccer. I didn't need to speak French to know what the Madame in the fur coat was saying.

2-month old Nephew/Godson Pinault at his Catholic purification ritual. His hair is still a bit wet from the holy water, and he screamed like he was being exorcised of the devil.

The Godfather... at the Codfather Fish and Chip shop! I couldn't get up the nerve to go into one of these places - the mangy clientele scared me. But I did have fish and chips at a nice pub in Rye. After gamely trying to eat the beer-battered fish, I scooped out the yummy cod and left the batter on my plate like a molted shell.

Speaking of English cuisine... The Typical British breakfast.

We stayed at a Bed and Breakfast in the center of Ashford. The "bed" was very quaint and comfortable, but the "breakfast" was at the Cafe Express diner next door. We had a choice of this or cereal. I tried the baked beans on the first morning, but it just didn't work out. So I had four mornings of eggs, grilled tomatoes, and toast.

"To eat well in England, you should have a breakfast three times a day." W. Somerset Maugham

We stopped at Leeds Castle on our way to the airport, but only had an hour to stay - not enough time to tour the castle or justify the 12 pound entrance fee. Overhearing our dilemma, a kindly man told us about a "public footpath" (again!) that would allow us to at least see the castle. So we trudged across the "public footpath" (this one with sheep and their droppings) to see the castle.

Mr. Pinault squares off against a woolly ruminant quadruped.

The sheep seemed unfazed by our presence in their pasture, but they kept a watchful distance.

We visited the town of Rye in East Sussex because the Michelin Guide gave the town two stars. Yep, the whole damn town.

A rule of thumb: The shorter the doorways, the older the town. Rye was founded during the Norman Conquest and has gained a reputation as a writer's colony (most notably, Henry James lived there).

In Rye, on the bell tower of St. Mary's Parish - a 900 year old church that dominates the town.

View of Rye from the tower - photo by Mr. Pinault.

As we drove through Romney Marsh, Mr. Pinault suddenly pulled over. "Look at the sheep! The church!" He grabbed his camera, took off in the field, and came back with this winsome shot.

The gate entrance to the cathedral in Canterbury, where Thomas Becket was murdered in the 12th century. The cathedral has since attracted legions of pilgrims, as immortalized in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. Note the Starbucks on the right - nice touch.

The remains of St. Augustine's Abbey in Canterbury, which was built in the year 598. No, not 1598: 598.

"England has two books, one of which she has made and one which has made her: Shakespeare and the Bible."Victor Hugo

I see the resemblance.

Inside the Cathedral in Canterbury.

"The only legitimate artists in England are the architects." - Benjamin Haydon

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