I didn’t realize England had a smell until I came back to it – faint and ancient. Stories and moss. I’m back where everything makes sense, just pressing unpause. Everything is quiet and slow today. I know how to move between these places. There is sun, and I lose myself in routine.
Cambridge is ungraspable, uncontainable. The universe condensed into this small space, streets squeezed and teaming. An explosion. Cobblestones and pavement, the river and the green, the boats and the cows, the history, the High Street. It’s eating gelato on the stone wall and racing on a bike to catch the train to Ely for tea…
Oxford is stone, brown, beige, wide open. Quiet, clean. Bursting with stories. My last short trip exploring before being uprooted from this country. __ The Friday that we finally made the two hour drive from Cambridge to Oxford was grey and cold, the kind of day where it might rain any second, yet later…
Wild Ravenscar, seal colony, seawalk, cliffs and sky. Green, rock. Almost entirely alone. Empty space. A challenging walk. A breathtaking view. Slow down. Space. Wild country. Nature and us. ___ Day 2, Yorkshire Coast Trip Last stop of our Yorkshire Coast trip, another detour on our drive home. Ravenscar is a super small village,…
Whitby. Quaint, classic English seaside. Timeless. Town pier. Abandoned abbey. One hundred and ninety nine steps. Layers and layers of literary, economic history. The abbey is 1600+ years old. The abbey inspired parts of Dracula. The abbey was home to the first known English language poet. And the Romans minded jet here. Captain Cook…
Wild Yorkshire, moors and coast. Burnt orange, sand, the green of the coastal path. An old cottage, a zillion stars. The tide is gone and back again. Everything changes in hours, nothing changes at all. With our friends, here, in this beautiful, quiet place. ___ Day 1, Yorkshire Coast Trip We left Cambridge late…