Well, we’ve been home from England for exactly one month now, and I’m pretty sure that half of you think we didn’t even go. Of the whole ten pictures we’ve put up of our trip, we could have just superimposed our faces on pictures from the internet and not gone at all…
We really did go, though. And I think the further the distance I have away from the trip, the more I appreciate it. It was a wonderful trip. A perfect trip. And it happened at the perfect time in our lives.
Marc has said he will try and do a post this weekend about the next leg in our journey, which is Warwick, Chris and Toni’s, and Oxford. Marc’s poor mom has been anxiously awaiting pictures and stories from our trip and we have just not had time to get them up. Sorry Mom V.
I’m at a loss for how to go about giving an account of our trip. The other day I started a post on all of the ways we “got around” on the holiday — talking about rental cars, first class international flights, and walking, walking, walking, but Flickr died on me. That one will get done eventually. And I’m also thinking of doing one about all the scarves I wore while in Europe and how I’m so happy to be at a place in my life where I feel confident enough to wear scarves.
In the meantime, I thought I would put up some pictures of our time in Bath. For some reason when I think about the trip, I always think about our days in Bath — all of the walking we did around those old streets, never quite figuring out our way around them (even with a map), all of the interesting shops and the beautiful architecture, and just being free and with no schedule, able to do things like have a frozen lemonade and strawberry cupcake for lunch while we listen to street performers play in the Abbey courtyard. I loved our days in Bath. Here are just a few reasons why:
More pictures from the trip can be found over at Marc’s flickr account here.