I spent a couple of weeks in the UK recently. I was able to visit northern England where matronly cafe-ladies call everyone "love" and "cheers" is the ubiquitous utterance. Ale is hand pumped and room temperature. Steak and ale pie is a thing. People drive on the other side of the road and everything feels a bit... off... to an American.
It was glorious.
I was able to attend celebrations for Guy Fawkes Night, which consisted of many fireworks and a HUGE bonfire upon which an effigy of good old Guy was lit aflame.
Words fail me.
I must say I love the UK. The people are quite nice, the food - while generally unhealthy - suited my palate nicely, and the pubs just made me happy.
Can't say I enjoyed the travel to and from the county, though. As a California resident, my trek there was many hours in the air or in airports.
It's no shock that I caught a head cold while returning, though I've mostly fought it off.
I got to catch up on movies on the flight back. I managed to see the utter train wreck that was the latest Godzilla movie as well as watch Tom Cruise die over and over in End of Tomorrow (or was it Edge of Tomorrow? I forget).
All-in-all, I'm glad to be home. Travel is fun once you're at your destination, but the act of getting from point A to point B just sucks.
Teaser: Coming next Tuesday, our Apollo celebration lands on the Moon - We took risks, we had guts—and, one day in 1969, it all paid off.
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