Day 7--Sissinghurst

I think that if I were to stay in England for only one more week, I would come home unconsciously speaking with an English accent. But when people would ask why I was talking in an English accent, I would reply, in an English accent, "Because I've just been in f***ing England, you stupid sod!"

Sorry, I was watching the Sex Pistols movie on the telly last night.

OK, today's travel tip for the aspiring world traveller is this: never plan anything extensive on a Sunday. The normally constant and comprehensive English mass transit system that we have come to take for granted does not operate at full capacity on Sunday. As a result, trying to book transportation to Sissinghurst Gardens today proved to be a bit of an ordeal. Now I should have thought back to my experience in Italy when I tried to find transport to Capri on a Sunday in the off-season, and found myself having to make serious compromises. Travel tip No. 2: never presume anything.

After trying fruitlessly to find a direct bus route, I called the gardens themselves only to discover that most of the information on their website is obsolete. Or as the locals would say, pure rubbish. A bus was out of the question, so we were left with the train. Only after contacting National Rail did we discover a fairly direct route by train to the town nearest the gardens, Staplehurst. From there a cab driver at the station would take us over to the gardens.
Hence travel tip No. 3: never trust the website. Always call first.

Oh, and did you know that it rains in England? The weather today was, to quote Tracy's husband Steve, "Cold, wet, and 'orrible!" Eric Idle was right when he spoke about the English and how they react to the weather. However, Sissinghurst Garden was one of the main reasons for the trip and one of the main reasons we stayed in Kent County. So we were determined to get there. After getting the transportation situation sorted out, we made it at last to the gardens a little after 1:00, had lunch and tea, and went out to tour the grounds, along with a gaggle of German tourists. It was rainy, windy and cold, but I still managed to get some nice shots of the grounds. The garden is in full bloom later in June, which is peak season, but that means it is also packed with tourists, and we had enough trouble today with the bloody Germans, so we were content with the natural beauty on display (reminding me of Debussy's "Jardins sous la pluie"). Some of the structures on the grounds date back to Elizabethan times, but the gardens themselves came into existence in the 1930s. Mother absolutely loved the gardens and estate, regardless of the weather, and plans on staying at the Sissinghurst B&B during one of her return trips to England.

After dinner at an Italian restaurant in Sandwich, we returned home to the warmth and comfort of Molland House, our temporary home for the last seven days. Tomorrow we fly back to America.

Despite my insomnia-induced emotional funhouse ride earlier in the week, I have very much enjoyed this sojourn to Ol' Blighty, and I can speak for mother when I say she found it wonderful. Canterbury was definitely my favorite, and my overall favorite day, but other highlights were certainly: spending time with Edouard in London, the boat tour up the Thames, walking the streets of Sandwich, The Secret Garden, and most of the food. For mother the highlight was finally spending time in a country that has over the years become a part of her psyche. I'm glad she was able to make the trip.

Next stop for me: Quebec, autumn 2010, with my lady love. :-D

John FishNChips, signing off.

Cheers!

P.S. A very special thank you to my sister Emily for suggesting the trip. Mother and I missed you not being here, but knew you were here in spirit. Thanks for all your comments on the blog!