One of the oldest forms of discovery, affirmation, and search for enlightenment is the pilgrimage.

“Go, pilgrim, and take your place in the sun and your share in the dust— heart awakened, forget the ephemeral."

- Timothy Eagan, A Pilgrimage to Eternity

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Cover photo (previous page): Incipit from the Gospel of Matthew, Lindisfarne Gospels folio 27r (British Library, London)

Arrive LHR on time and without the benefit of good sleep. Seems a good idea to have taken the late flight, which arrives after noon: we will be able to check into our Battersea Park accommodation without delay. Weather today in London is a comfortable and bright 72 degrees, affirming the wisdom of a British holiday in August. Temperatures should be warmest in London and incrementally cooler as we travel north at week’s end.

The Elizabeth Line connecting to the tube at Tottenham Court Road gets us to our lovely AirBnB flat in just over an hour. A 5-min walk from Battersea Power Station stop, we feel smack in the middle of this neighborhood, new for Keith and surveilled by Marie last June.

Vicky’s flat in Kensington House

Eager for an early Sunday roast dinner and then a walk along the Thames, we need one block out the door to find the Mason’s Arms. Roast beef for Marie, chicken for Keith - and a pint of Pilsner for both.

Lovely stroll through Battersea Park to the Chelsea Bridge and then east riverside to the pier. Marie’s most excellent idea for a thamesclipper cruise to Tower and return yields these most excellent photos:

Battersea Power Station

HMS Belfast

Hay’s Galleria, Southwark

Tower Bridge

City of London, one square mile

London Eye

Houses of Parliament

New perspectives from the river

Queen’s Gate, Kensington Gardens

Royal Albert Memorial

Diana Fountain

Lovely walking day feat. an itinerary from Steve Hitchcock that starts at the Royal Albert Memorial and proceeds to the Diana, Princess of Wales Fountain, along the Long Water to the Peter Pan statue and Italian Gardens to the very beautiful and poignant Diana statue, commissioned by her sons, at Kensington Palace. Technically this walk is within the bounds of Kensington Gardens, with Hyde Park to the immediate east across the Long Water where one also finds Bywater, the Green Dragon pub and Buckleberry Ferry.

Peter Pan

Italian Gardens

Diana, Princess of Wales

The three children represent her “universal and generational impact” of her life’s work

Diana, Princess of Wales Statue, Sunken Garden

We lunch in Queensway, which, while its sounds proper, is a string of fast food eateries. In retrospect Rudy’s for pizza is a good choice on account of the air conditioning. The caprese and pizza was bland, but our feetses thank us.

Antidote for bland pizza? A good 300-year old pub in Knightsbridge as recommended by Steve, which does not disappoint. Tucked behind the Lanesborough hotel, it’s not easy to find with various closed off alleys, but a gang of workmen notice Keith walking up and down a block with phone in hand and befuddled look and call out, knowing our destination: the Grenedier. A pint and a sit on the bench and a short read (Keith in Brunetti book 7) revive us.

The Grenedier, Knightsbridge

Genius at work at the White Swan

Vauxhall Cross (MI6 HQ)

St. George Wharf

Now needing a coffee to counter the day drinking, we press on to the super spreader event known as Harrod’s food halls and stand in a queue to sit at the famed coffee bar. The five junior Saudi princes in front of us are just one of countless such groups. As only four open seats together materialize, one of the moustsched young man gestures for the maitre d’ to resist a mother with babe in arms, which he ignores. Iced tea and cake all around. But we select iced coffee and a double machiatto and share scones with clotted cream and jam.

But not to dawdle, we exit Harrod’s for the tube to Pimlico (but exit too late at Vauxhall) to meet dear friends Kelly and Lua Joy at the White Swan. But not before Keith is crushed by tube doors at Green Park just after Marie sights the young actor from Apple TV’s Slow Horses.

We nearly win the pub quiz, with f-ing awesome knowledge like Coleridge’s “Rhyme of the Ancient Marine,” iodine is a member of the “halogen” elements, and west African country “Gabon” - only to fail with the height of a tennis net (3 ft.) and four 4-letter Pixar films.

Home via the longer route via Vauxhall Bridge and St. George Wharf and to bed.

The Queen’s House is architecturally significant (the first building in England in the purely Classical style) and features a fine collection of portraits and very naval landscapes over 3 floors. Its most famous is the “Spanish Armada” portrait of Queen Elizabeth I. More important still is the Tulip Stairs, the first geometric self-supporting stairs in Britain. Designed by Inigo Jones (who did the whole house) these have no central structure to obstruct views through the center and future photos of millions (see below).

Tulip Stairs

Lord of the manor

Straddling…

…the Prime Meridian

We arrive the adjacent National Maritime Museum five minutes soon enough to benefit from Ruth’s excellent one-hour Treasure Tour that condenses this massive and diverse collection. Where to begin and end a summary?

Most poignant for Marie is the life and love of Horatio Nelson, while Keith learns new pithy facts about Sir Francis Drake to assault unsuspecting friends and coworkers.

Raised in the household of an English privateer, Drake learned to pillage the Spanish Main at a young age - he’s the kid chasing the tavern girls round and round at Disneyland’s Pirates of the Caribbean. Knowing talent when she saw it, Queen Lizzy granted Drake the right to attack French and Spanish shipping anywhere and everywhere, so he circumnavigated the globe (the second after Magellan, but being the first Englishman is what counts at the National Maritime Museum) and brought home treasure valued at 29 billion pounds in today’s money. This canceled out England’s crown debt and therefore knighthood for Drake and not dukedom seems a bit stingy.

Ever the underachiever, Drake later, as vice admiral of the fleet, launched an innovative attack with unmanned fire ships against the line of the Spanish Armada, setting in motion the naval victory that saved England from invasion and therefore the civilized world as we know it. The Spanish lost over 10,000 souls and 44 ships; the British fleet lost no vessels and gained Jimmy Perez on Shetland.

Roman anchor found in English waters

Good balance on colonial nature of British exploration

Dear reader, if unbeknownst to you, most of the good ideas in this enterprise are Marie’s, and this afternoon’s are no exception:

On the return boat, thought of visiting St Paul’s (Admiral Nelson buried in the crypt) is thwarted by their early closure, but Marie calls an audible worthy of Shackleton: Arriving back at Kensington House, we quickly dress, then dine at Dishoom, tube to Embankment, enjoy cocktails at the swanky Corinthia hotel bar - and make our 19:30 curtain at the Kit Kat Club! Cabaret is a first for both Marie and Keith.

Not bad for a Tuesday.

Prince’s Head, Richmond

Ted’s flat

It is a joy for Keith to observe Marie extracting key insider insights from John of Visitor Information in the station hall. We get the book, the map, the Ted Lasso walk flyer and a recommendation of the breakfast pizza at Portofino.

After leisurely lunch, including a nice starter of burrata, tomato, cucumber and pesto, we retrace our steps back toward the station in order to take John’s preferred short cut to the Green and those familiar views of all AFC Richmond fans.

Said sights are experienced and photographed in under 4.5 minutes and, not quite ready for a pint, we proceed down to the Riverside and end up onboard cafe boat Peggy Jean for almost 4.5 hours, enjoying the water, the bridge, the houses across the way, the people (watching), one prosecco, two glasses of rioja, and a sticky English toffee pudding.

Richmond Upon Thames

Peggy Jean, Richmond Riverside

Because it’s on the list, we travel to Paddington and walk into Little Venice with canals and houseboats and some eateries. Marie remembers it a bit different (read: more quaint, even magical) when a friend introduced the canals last summer - from the other direction (from Regent’s Park).

We opt to press on (eastward) in search of magic beyond Maida Hill and end up in the midst of sturdy and unhandsome council housing blocks, lots of them, which provides a stark contrast to the accommodation of brand new Battersea and a small glimpse into the reality of working class and immigrant Britain. But walking south on Lisson Grove we suddenly reach Marlybone and lots of affluent young people outside a stylish corner pub.

Dinner is takeaway courtesy of M&S at Marlybone station, along with Gosford Park, which should have won the Oscar in 2002. Created by Robert Altman and Bob Balaban and written by Julian Fellowes, the ensemble cast is unbelievable and the storyline (clearly) informed that obscure little series called Downton Abbey.

Tower Bridge \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240Icon of Victorian Empire

During ride to meet our private tour guide, Keith, staring up at the Central London tube map, is suddenly inspired! And this inspiration rivals his historical timeline of Middle Earth (3rd and 4th Ages only) formatted like in a biblical atlas, never published but created by hand on graph paper 11” x 48” - yeah, like that, but different:

A map of Middle Earth in the form of the London tube map!

Sharing this idea with Marie, her first question is, “hasn’t someone thought of that already?” Keith (in his head), “What? Well, no, okay. Uh, no. Well, maybe, yeah, I guess it’s possible.”

Keith is not the first to think of this. Below just one of more than a few examples. How glorious and beautiful this piece of art!

Today is our last full day in London. The plan is fixed as 10:45 meet archeologist Khalid for private walking tour, meeting near Tower Bridge, followed by presumbly luncheon and a visit to St. Paul’s Cathedral. Keith asks himself if he has ever actually entered into this Christopher Wren masterpiece and is unsure.

Our tour group consists of just three, including Ethan from Vancouver, starting a one-year sabattical from his real estate development job (read: self-funded sabattical). Khalid is immediately likeable and we know this is gonna be good. From Manchester, our guide works at the London Museum as an archeologist, a specialist in human remains. But clearly his passion is sharing his knowledge and insights - historical, sociological and architectural - through the lens of London from Roman through Victorian times.

While we enjoyed Ruth from the National Maritime Museum, in comparison to Khalid she was a bit snooty and meticulous in that typical English way. She had something interesting to share and she let you know she knew it. On the other hand, Khalid was approachable, willing and able to answer every question we asked, but more importantly focused on his role as guide to convey the meaning of what we saw and heard. Intelligent, intellectual, kind and passionate, Keith muses that he’d be the perfect friend if not for his loyalty to Manchester United.

Tour highlight for Marie was the unique view of two iconic symbols of power and influence in the same frame: The Tower of London and Tower Bridge (see photo below).

After defeating Harald at Hastings in 1066, William of Normandy, committed to rid himself of his childhood nickname (“the Bastard”) marches on London. His only way across the Thames, London Bridge, is blockaded, so he must take his army upstream all the way to Reading and back down to London from the west, where he finds the City’s defenses, the Roman walls, most stout. Rather than a costly seige, but intent on conquering all of England including London, William cuts a deal with the City guaranteeing them special semi-independent status to manage their own affairs if it submits. The deal done, William then builds an impressive Norman keep immediately to the east, just in case anyone in town forgets who’s in charge.

The Tower of London, of course, is the first and most impressive of castles built by the conquering Normans in England, a symbolic as well as pragmatic reminder of royal power in London, later home to Crown Jewels and also prison and execution site for the most famous people doomed by their deemed treason against kings.

Tower Bridge, by contrast, is immediately recognizable as the most famous landmark in Britain, built at the height of the British Empire to convey that very British certainty of power, grandeur and cultural superiority. (Built to look old, it is new, a decade younger than the Brooklyn Bridge, a feat of Victorian engineering) in the eyes of schoolchildren and adults everywhere, Tower Bridge connotes London, Great Britain, the Royals and really everything we love about this place.

Tower of London (right) and Tower Bridge

The moat (in foreground), originally connected to the Thames and flooded, was filled in when it become too toxic

The charter for the City of London agreed by William the Conqueror would have been “familiar” for Londoners as the city had enjoyed a similar status in Saxon England: at the nexus of four Saxon kingdoms (Wessex, Mercia, Kent and East Anglia) London was a quasi-independent city-state prospering in commerce and too important for any kingdom to allow one single king to rule it. To the present day, the City of London, bounded by the outline of the ancient Roman wall, is independent of greater London, with its own government, police force, courts, etc. Head of government is the Lord Mayor of London, elected annually by the guild, not to be confused with the Mayor of London a la Boris Johnson. (Today, the Corporation of London is run by 100 common councilmen and 25 aldermen, sort of like Laketown during the tyranny of the dragon Smaug until the Return of King). #historyminutewithkeith

Khalid also showed us a mess of Roman ruins, including the Temple of Mithras under Bloomberg’s European HQ. For more details you’ll have to take his tour:

After a salad lunch in Cheapside, Marie and Keith decide to split up - Marie to St. Paul’s (£22 entry fee) where she catches a docent tour, and is most satisfied with her choice, particularly with a men’s choir rehearsing in the background.

St. Paul’s Cathedral, \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 by Christopher Wren

Keith opts for Temple Church (£6), home of the Templars in London until 1308, where he learns about the extraordinary life of William Marshal, 1st Earl of Pembroke, who served five Kings of England, the last as Guardian of the Realm under nine year-old Henry III. Together with Master of the Temple, William pushed through a revised Magna Carta which the late King John (also of Robin Hood infamy, voice by Jeremy Irons) had had no intention of honoring, thereby bringing rebel barons into line and avoiding the French invasion of England. The Magna Carta ushered into England the constitutional monarchy and the Common Law that was foundational to Britain’s rise in the world for the next 600 years and the governing principles of the United States. Marshal joined the Knights Templar on his deathbed, a vow made while on crusade, and is buried in Temple Church.

Keith now in search of the definitive biography of William Marshal; dear readers, please advise if any leads.

Sign of Britain’s imperial success?

Having agreed to rendezvous back in Battersea, Keith returns by Thames boat from Embankment, while Marie, seeing but seemingly without hope in reaching Blackfriars pier either

a) says fuck it and retires the the Blackfriars pub, the best in London according to her brother-in-law and London travel afficionado Steve; or

B) not to be outdone by young girls with the same destination, scales walls and hedges, crosses rivers teaming with piranha and dodges double decker red buses to fulfill her quest, and without discernible injury.

(Editor’s note: Marie wishes it clear that the scaling of wall, without dignity but with cold determination, is true.)

Dinner at Taco al Pastor is fine, not outstanding, but provides a fun vibe to say farewell to Battersea by night.

Best preserved section of London’s Roman wall

St. Dunstan, now public space

City of London Guildhall \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 (follow the money)

Moory at King’s Cross station

Keith reminds himself to find a shop in Durham with protein bars for the 75 miles in 6 days before us.

Durham was founded in 995 by monks fleeing Lindisfarne after Viking attack and seeking a safe place to house \240the relics of St. Cuthbert. That location, upon which site Durham Cathedral was erected 1093-1134 and where said relics are enshrined in a chapel behind the High Altar, is a defendable piece of land protected on three sides by the River Wear. Durham Castle was built in by William the Conqueror starting in 1072 when he came north to defend his new realm from the pesky Scots. Durham Castle is the only Norman keep to have been been breached. Together Romanesque cathedral and Norman castle constitute a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Hotel Indigo is a great choice, thanks again to travel captain Marie Claire. Located just across the Elvet Bridge from the old town, a 10 min. walk up to the cathedral and castle green. While Keith reluctantly powers up the laptop to finish a few straggling work things before week’s end, Marie sets off to town. Who knows what fortune awaits?

Hotel Indigo

Durham Cathedral

Cathedral from Castle Gate

River Wear

Framwellgate Bridge

Marie is able to take in the cathedral but specifically St. Cuthbert’s Shrine before it’s closed off for evensong. Keith joins in time for a quiet moment in the nave before heading out in search of sustenance. A truly magnificent afternoon in Durham (see photos below).

Dinner on the opposite side of town at the Framwellgate Bridge offered more people watching on a Friday evening than anyone could ask for, really. All ages, shapes and sizes, donning every manner of evening wear, parading into town from the railway station or farm or suburb or the set of Geordie Shore.

There really is such a thing as too much people watching

A lovely walk home along the River Wear at dusk. This visit to Durham, with the strongest of connections with St. Cuthbert, is certainly a kind of pilgrims’ prologue.

Elvet Bridge

We awaken to overcast skies and are grateful for getting to the palace green yesterday. Durham is a very beautiful and very walkable city, and, for several reasons, we are more than glad to have chosen Durham instead of York for this interlude between London and Scottish Borders.

Durham was ruled by the Bishop of Durham. Unique in England, the city and bishopric were part of the County Palatinate of Durham. Palatinus connotes the rights of a king to someone who technically isn’t, and, indeed, for over 500 years the bishops wielded extraordinary powers normally reserved for the king alone: to hold parliament, raise armies, levy taxes, mint coin, appoint sheriffs, salvage shipwrecks, administer forests, create fairs.

Why? County Durham was a geopolitical buffer between England and Scotland, with the prince bishop the ultimate marcher lord (sort of like the Rohirrim as buffer for Gondor against the Dunledings, or the Night’s Watch against the Wildlings and worse). And also Durham is a really long way from Westminster.

To quote the steward of the bishop at the turn of the 13th century, "There are two kings in England, namely the Lord King of England, wearing a crown in sign of his regality and the Lord Bishop of Durham wearing a mitre in place of a crown, in sign of his regality in the diocese of Durham.”

The last prince bishop founded Durham University in 1832, making it the third oldest in the land after (you guessed it). Although, in all fairness, “land” as used in the previous sentence refers to England; Scottish universities of Edinburgh, Glasgow and Aberdeen are much older, but not as old as (you know).

Breakfast in the hotel

(formerly the city council building in the Baroque Revival style with stained glass everywhere)

The Hotel Indigo had to protect the legacy of the building, and Marie celebrates the high decorative ceiling of our room. Marie’s further assessment: “Important decisions were made here and probably no ghosts.”

Council Room Foyer \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 Hotel Indigo

As we do, have booked a walking tour with a Durham Uni grad and “expert in all things Durham, past and present.” Let’s see.

Classic English fare at Market Place

Walking tour with Tom consisted of vignettes about random people associated with Durham, most overly performed. Upon reflection, Keith enjoying Tom’s spiel more after than in the moment.

Durham’s peninsula, known simply as the “Bailey” (referring to the Norman motte and bailey castle style), recalls the strategic military significance of the place. There were three walls circling the medieval city, and, although technically not fortified, the cathedral’s sheer size and location added to the intimidation. Sir Raleigh Scott referred to Durham Cathedral as “half Church of God and half Castle against the Scot.”

The prince bishop was so powerful that even the King had to ask permission to enter the County. This sufficiently irked Henry VIII that he installed a dean in the cathedral to undermine the bishop’s authority there (okay, not sure what that did). Finally, in 1836, Parliament in Westminster passed a law saying there could no more prince bishops because the idea was (in good English understatement) “undemocratic.” But the king was still the king, and it was the always the king who appointed the Bishop of Durham.

For one month in 1873 a local woman was the most famous in the world, the world’s first documented serial killer, hanged in Durham in view of our hotel.

Mary Ann Cotton was convicted on only one count murder although is most strongly suspected in the deaths of 3 of 4 husbands (for their insurance policies) and perhaps 11 of 13 children and stepchildren.

Her method, the most English, of course: arsenic in their tea, in a special black pot. Murder! Murder! Murder!

To Cuthbert. He was over 6 foot tall and full of muscle, \240(and if those first two attributes don’t remind the reader of Marie’s other half, this will) and didn’t much care for the company of people. He therefore lived not in the monastic community of Lindisfarne but alone, among bird and seal and otter, on a nestby islet, and only very reluctantly, after the intercession of two archbishops and a king, \240accepted election as bishop when that time came.

Sort of like the old Luke Skywalker but taller.

Tapestry in St Cuthbert’s Shrine

Cuthbert is known for bringing Christianity to the least of these Northumbria, healing the sick and being a friend of nature. Miraculous of Cuthbert was in death as well as life. His coffin was opened repeatedly in the medieval age in the presence of reliable witnesses to find an “incorruptable” body.

The most important point in the tour was the viewing of Narnia’s iconic lamppost. No, \240not in Oxford, no…Tom has convinced both Marie and Keith that this (see below) is THE inspiration: lecturing for a semester in Durham, CS Lewis walked this path home from university to his lodging during a winter with massive snowfall. The reader may remember Lion, Witch, and Wardrobe in the midst of Endless Winter. And Oxford has no gas lamps in 1942. Thanks, Tom.

Retiring to a cafe after the tour, we spying our third hen party and now hereby declare Durham sister city to Nashville, Tennessee. Keith thinks the girls take the 22-min. train down from Newcastle.

Returning to the Cathedral, we meditate for a bit in St Cuthbert’s Shrine, the most sacred place in England - until Thomas Becket got himself murdered down south in someplace called Canterbury. At the western end of the church is buried Bede the Venerable, the first author of English, and primary source about Cuthbert, who also gave the world its way to uniformly date history, “BC” and “AD.” Before Bede, historical and documental dating was always in relation to the reign of tyrant so-in-so.

The Dun Cow, final sign to monks that the hill of “Dunholm” was the right place bury the saint. After marching around northern England for 120 years with the coffin and the Lindisfarne Gospels on a cart

Miners Memorial in Durham Cathedral

Its wealth derived from coal mining, with over 100 mines in the County and four in sight of the cathedral, Durham literally fueled the Industrial Revolution in England. In 1842 parliament passed a law forbidding women and children under ten from working underground.

Roster of the men in charge

However, the acting Bishop of Durham is not currently a man but rather Right Reverend Sarah Clark, Bishop of Jarrow

Art piece in Bede’s Shrine \240 \240 \240 \240 Durham Cathedral

Spontaneously, counter to the run of play, we forgo takeaway and have a lovely dining experience in the cellar of Restaurant 17 on Elvet Bridge. Prosecco, vegetable soup and sea bass for the lady; seafood linguine and duck fillet with a glass of Argentine Malbec for the lord bishop.

Championship football highlights and Granchester on the telly and to bed. We will miss Durham very much.

View of cathedral from our room

Sleep late and again enjoy breakfast in the lovely council room. Keith repacks both suitcases twice to optimize pilgrimage logistics, which is probably a sin. The bigger one is over 40 lbs. for sure, also a sin.

Farewell is not goodbye

One hour by train to Berwick-upon-Tweed (pronounced “Bare-ick”), the northernmost English town. But, having changed hands with the pesky Scots 13 times and only definitively English since 1482, the continuing affinity for the Scots have the Berwick Rangers football club (and local rugby club) playing today in their respective Scottish leagues…

…and then 90 minutes by bus to Melrose. Cuthbert entered the priesthood at Melrose Abbey and we will start on the Way here.

Not yet Scotland despite first sheepes

Not our pilgrimage

Lovely people on this sacred journey. Believe sacred is correct given the vulnerability in sharing this evening and the esprit de corps exhibited. Holding up our troop: Anna, Anne, Belle, Jessica, Keith, Kim, Marie, Terry.

Marie and Keith have intention to adopt postures befitting a pilgrim, without any idea what that means.

Keith expects a shift in rhythm of daily diary entries. Thank you, dear readers, for your flexibility and patience.

Market Square, Melrose after sunset

Dryburgh Abbey

My walking mantra today is: surrender.

I want to be letting go, but can’t stop thinking about the U2 song lyrics, and then falling asleep one semester at college to The Unforgettable Fire album playing low and then automatically off at the end on fancy stereo system somehow in my room.

Today’s eight miles is a cruel teaser; a future day is more than double the distance.

“The end is known in the midst of the journey, the fulfillment is beyond our imagining.”

And so it begins in Melrose

Heather going over the Eildon Hills \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 (photo courtesy of Jessica K.)

Melrose Abbey

River Tweed in front of Eildon Hills

Dryburgh Abbey

Along the Tweed before St Boswells

Pilgrimage prompt of the day: “Nature is a wise teacher. It calls us to explore what it is to live a wild life. A wild life is one that is not domesticated into boxes of safety of being because in the wild there is always an encounter with fierce forces.” - Christine Valtner Paintner.

Fewer words today, and maybe fewer tomorrow.

One more quote: “A pilgrimage is a way to show you are thankful. You can find a vision of eternity in the trees, in the birdsong.”

- Petra Scheide, on St Cuthbert’s Way (The Sunday Times)

Let it be.

Fireweed, chamaenerion angustifolium

Unicorn blood (zoom in)

River Tweed

Dere Street, Roman road built AD 79

Weirwood

We know no king but the King in the North whose name is Stark

Afterglow in Jedburgh

Day begins with Keith almost questioning the entire endeavor. Seems to the part of journey where trials or tribulations begin.

All lives of all persons can be understood through the lens of the “hero’s journey”…?

An example (courtesy of masterclass.com):

1. The ordinary world. Luke lives with his aunt and uncle on a farm on Tatooine. He likes to stare at the sunset and dream of “teleporting off this rock”.
2. The call to adventure. R2-D2 plays Luke a message of distress from Princess Leia, who needs someone to transport the droid to Alderaan.
3. Refusal of the call. Luke isn’t thrilled about leaving his home planet and getting in trouble from his uncle to go on a wild goose chase.
4. The mentor. Obi-Wan Kenobi convinces Luke to follow his heart by showing him his father’s lightsaber.
5. Crossing the threshold. Luke and Obi-Wan leave Mos Eisley for Alderaan.
6. The ordeal. Leia’s rescue from the Death Star, and later, Luke using the Force to destroy the Death Star.
7. The return. Luke joins the rebels and decides to become a Jedi.

Day 3: “Gift of the longest day” - “When I stay present to experience life, I’m able to seek out what I can teach me.”

After confessing my fear about the distance to Marie and another in our group and receiving loving encouragement from Marie (who sat out the first 10 mi. And joined us for lunch in Morebattle and final 7), the morning session was really great.

The afternoon, up and over Wideopen Hill, was brutal. The struggle is real for Keith, with a third blister by end of day three of walking. Battlefield surgery (safety pin and antiseptic) may be necessary tomorrow.

Extraordinary elevation (and therefore views) today.

Britain: “This precious stone set in the silver sea.” - \240Shakespeare

Picnic spread at Morebattle Community Shop

We are now famous

May God shield you on every step, \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240may Christ aid you on every path, \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240may Spirit fill you on every slope, on hill and plain. Amen

Marie and Keith are sitting out stage 1 today, to connect with our fellows in Hethpool “under the big tree at the turn of the road in the hamlet.” This will cut our walking mileage from 13 to 8 miles. Should be raining and muddy both sides of lunch. Blisters sorted. Good to go.

Loving dinner at the Border Hotel in Kirk Yetholm last evening, whose chef also pack us lunches for today: ham and cheddar on brown bread with mustard for both of us.

“There are only three stages to this work: to be a beginner, to be more of a beginner, and to be only a beginner.” - Thomas Merton

Border Hotel owner James drove us to Hethpool for arrival at the rendezvous point in the exact moment our troop arrived. Windy day with likelihood of rain today for our jaunt over the Cheviot Hills (“CHEE-vee-ott@). One moment, Keith is sauntering over the heather-laced moors like Mr Darcy, the next, on an exposed ridge gong over the top, we are the Fellowship of the Ring assaulted by freezing rain on an evil wind from the voice of Saruman! Never so thoroughlywet so quickly in our collective young lives.

Friend or foe? That was no moo of welcome

One wizard, two Wo(men) of the West, \240one elf and four hobbits

The Cheviot Hills

Crossroads

Final mile down into Wooler, where wool comes from

St Cuthbert’s Cave

Our penultimate day of walking. A good day - more purgation, some illumination, an a re-union with Marie, who took her pilgrimage day off the Way in Woller, at the Cave and the tea shop in Fenwick.

Fat Gandalf guarding the Weetwood Bridge

History homily (today: Cuthbert in life)

The other walkers of St Cuthbert’s Way this week: Lisa, Julia, Rob and Mike

Surrender of our burdens in the Cave. Unlike St Anthony, Terry fails to conjure flame from his fingertips to ignite

How golf was invented

The fellowship within our group of eight has matured in a lovely way, like a fine wine (although not an English one). Getting lost for the third time in two days requires several miles of backtracking to correct, and scuttles Terry’s dream of a cuppa at the Fenwick tea shop.

Cocktails and dining at the Lindesfarne Inn outside of Fenwick is convivial, as one would wish for pilgrims together on the road. Whiskey tasting is postponed given our marshaling tomorrow morning at 06.30. Keith opts for a double portion of Frosted flakes and UHT milk to break his fast.

First glimpse of the sea. Holy Island not pictured

Our early start is guided by the tides. Lindisfarne is a tidal island, reachable only at low tide twice per day. The hours of seclusion was a sacred rhythm for medievals serving as a catalyst to establish a monestary there. Aiden founded it in 635 with blessing and land grant from Oswald king of Northumbria seated at nearby Bebbenburg (today’s Bamburgh Castle). Oswald’s head was found in Cuthbert’s coffin at last viewing prior to final internment in Durham Cathedral.

We start the barefooted crossing of the mudflats at something close to low tide, with ancient wooden poles to guide us. Two or three raised platforms to save the souls of negligent pilgrims go unused.

The Way officially ends at the statue of St Aiden in the parish churchyard. The distance is logged at 78.2 mi and 10,697 feet of elevation, and we are released for the day. We will reconvene at 18.00 for reflection and blessing, and a final pilgrims’ meal together at the Manor House Hotel.

Our time tonight is rich, ending with live music and a round of Speyside across the way at the Crown & Anchor Inn in which seemingly the entire population is gathered on this Saturday night. The trio’s repertoire takes us quickly from Johnny Cash to Duran Duran; save a prayer for us now that we might get a good night’s sleep.

Village of destination on the horizon

Happy piligrims!

Except for the one left knee, the one right knee, that ankle…

Holy Island commerce

(Left to right) Kim, Anne, Jessica, Terry, Anna, Keith, Belle, Marie

Well after dawn over Lindisfarne

Celebrate communion at the local parish church this Sunday morning. And in one of the most poignant moments of the week, is lost on none of us Americans present one of the prayers of intercession from a little church community on an island in the far northeast of England: “And we pray especially for the people of the United States during these difficult times as they speak so unkindly of and to each other…”

Lord have mercy.

Parish Church of St. Mary the Virgin Holy Island

St Cuthbert’s Cross themed window

St Aiden \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 Light of Northumbria

Ruin of Lindisfarne Priory framing Lindisfarne Castle

Keith’s meager sharing to our WhatsApp group as we are ready to say ‘farewell but not goodbye’ is a wee favorite poem:

The Breaking of the Fellowship: Jessica and Anne make the crossing and up to Edinburgh and civilization. But grateful to not be the only pilgrim hearing the song in Keith’s head, and heart:

https://youtu.be/zDKO6XYXioc?si=uZH2BLpbPx_Aonxw

Thanks @⁨AK. Didn’t have to courage to post that ❤️🙏

Marie and Anna circumnavigate Holy Island - the island, not the village, sharing magnificent views with us here.

Old Post Office

Lindisfarne Castle

Castle Point Lime Kilns

Marie’s cairn at Scar Jockey

Gertrude Jekyll Garden

Sandham Bay

Happy 23rd Anniversary

Stumbling out of the Crown & Anchor for the last time in 2024 there is an incredible

Well after sunset over Lindisfarne

Benediction

Drawn as we may be by Enlli and Lindisfarne, by Iona and Durham, by Canterbury and Jerusalem, by Santiago and Rome, let us take courage from our ancestors of faith, but let us now seek to make holy the places where we live, and to be made holy ourselves by the God who goes on before us. Amen

Our first Abba & Bishop

In 634 at the request of King [St] Oswald, the monks of Iona sent St Aiden to bring the knowledge of Christ to Northumbria. Bishop Aiden asked for the Island Lindisfarne for his settlement.

Here was built the first Church between the River Tees and the Firth of Forth, the first home of education & the first infirmary.

St Bede (d.735) says of Aiden, “he never sought for or cared for worldly possessions, he always travelled on foot, he & his followers loved as they taught.”

Having established his monastic family, baptized Christians, trained priests, ever praying as he journeyed, he died beside the wooden Bamburgh church Aug 31st, 651. At first buried in the monks’ cemetery near this church of St. Mary, he was later rebuffed inside the new oak-built church of St Peter [the later Priory site].

“A good man who in his day pleased God”

AIDEN, Light of Northumbria

Our Sixth Bishop

In 651, on the night that St Aiden died, St Cuthbert heard God’s call as he tended sheep in the Border hills. He became a monk at Old Melrose under SS Eata & Boisil & eventually came to Lindisfarne as Prior in 664. For twelve years he trained priests & crossed the sands to preach, baptise & teach & celebrate mass on his portable altar. St Aiden had regularly gone for solitude to the islet west of the church & to the Inner Farne Island.

St Cuthbert now settled as a hermit on the Inner Farne, where for nine years the needy sought his help & blessing.

In 685, reluctantly, he was consecrated a Bishop at York. Once more he visited the Border hills & went to Carlisle & beyond the Forth. In two years, aged by toil, he died on his beloved Farne 20th March 687. He was buried here in St Peter’s Church [site of the later Priory]. In 875 fear of renewed Viking raids led the Lindisfarne community to seek refuge around the North, carrying their holy relics in St Cuthbert’s coffin. They were at Chester-le-Street for 91 years & finally found home at Durham in 995, where our Saint still rests.

“Beloved by God & His people, whose memory is blessed.”

CUTHBERT, Fire of the North

- St. Mary’s Parish Church, Holy Island

Edinburgh Castle Esplanade \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 feat. US Sea Service Band

Neither of us sleep particularly well, perhaps contemplating our return to the reality of work, family and all they bring, or possibly because the dirty clothes bags are now the wrong shape to fit our suitcases.

Big day today. Taxi is ordered to get us off island, with Anna heading south to London and home and the remaining five north to Edinburgh. Belle will fly tonight to Zurich and then train home to Bern. Anne and Jessica are already in the queue at EDI for Aer to Lingus them home to SFO.

TransPennine Express from Berwick…

… to Edinburgh Waverly

What can Edinburgh offer in the next 24 hours?

Exiting Waverly station Mr Logistian, with no confidence whatsoever, guides in the right direction, and 197 ascending steps later, we arrive our bodega specializing in left luggage and vaping. That sorted, we wander up to the Royal Mile and that youthful street circus called Edinburgh Fringe and spontaneously decide on free show titled…

…which was worth every penny.

Jimmy’s Express Restaurant for lunch as Belle’s guests leaves us satiated and sleepy, but, after parting ways with Belle, not too sleepy for Marie to chat up the cab driver and, arriving our accommodation, Keith to take his boss’s weekly call while we get laundry going. Keith’s colleague asks why he is taking the call from a heliport (thanks to vigorous spin cycle in background).

Royal Mile \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 (running from the Castle down to Holyruudhouse, the British monarch’s official residence in Scotland)

No rain yet although 1) were no longer on the street and 2) tonight’s featured activity has never been cancelled due to inclement weather.

Rendezvous with Kim and Terry at Fisher’s in Thistle Street. Three cheers to Kim for this restaurant: quiet, casually elegant, good service and great food. We avoid fish and chips and curry even though highly recommended. Oysters, Caesar salad, Orkney scallops, salmon in every form, and a perfectly paired Pouilly-fume by Terry.

At Fisher’s in the City with Kim & Terry

Sir Walter Scott Monument \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240 \240~ the “Gothic Rocket” ~

Following dinner we walk with purpose from the New Town up Hanover Street and up to fhe Castle Esplanade for tonight’s performance of the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo. Held annually in August, this outdoor musical and visual extravaganza has Keith smiling ear to ear. Non stop for two hours, military bands, dance troops and pipes and drums corps from around the world entertain with intricate marching and majestically choreographed production numbers. A little difficult to explain.

This year’s participants feature cadets from The Citadel, its Regimental Band and Pipes, who acquit themselves well and are overshadowed by the musical prowess and military precision of the Massed Bands of HM Royal Marines, although to be expected: boys and girls against professionals.

No rain to speak of until literally the final number. Thank you, Scotland! Thank you, Edinburgh!

Cadets of The Citadel Regimental Band & Pipes

Terry still in our party

Not the Quiddich World Cup

Majesticks Drum Corps / Switzerland

She wouldn’t make eye contact during or after

https://youtu.be/ysGGVNIG4nE?si=WNDjiWkLIv-rJJir

Scotland segment of our trip was fantastic, \240and we are off to Ireland.!

Dublin and nearby County Wicklow are a first for both Marie and Keith; in 2010 we visited the south of the island (Cashel, Kinsale, Killarney, the feckin’ dolphin in Dingle, Doolin and Dirty Nellie’s). Friends of Keith in the know: insert McGregor the Barbuilder joke here.

The Aer Lingus ATR72 aircraft, operated by Emerald Airlines, is small enough that Keith’s gross weight is reseated in seat 1A from 1D. The boys hand loading checked luggage outside the cabin don’t know we can hear them. (In Scottish accent made for Hollywood, “Give me that fabric bag there, man!” (loud thump)…”Fuck me, Fergie! Slide it under the net!” (thump)…”So whatta think of my packing job?”…”It’s shite. I think it’s FUCKIN’ SHITE.”)

Ready for takeoff.

Well, well, well. Apparently the Scottish baggage handlers somehow know Keith is making a bit of fun about them in this travel journal. For reasons of “weight and balance,” they off load Keith’s suitcase. (“Yeah, that wee green one there, pull that off. No respectable Scot would be caught dead with an EMERALD green bag, man…probably a Celtic fan, that one.” Or a fuckin’ Scouser!”)

Now, one could think, dear readers, that the additional 3h at DUB airport (between delayed baggage claim and delayed rental car availability) would have soured the general mood. But, no, that comes later when it turns out Aer Lingus has decided to hold bag in EDI and then forward to SFO. As of this writing, correction is made to divert to DUB. But stay tuned.

Our Audi A6 is long and wide but since Keith is an experienced Germano-Gaelic performance driver the drive south into the Wicklow Mountains via the Sally Gap is without vehicular or marital incident. Just breathtaking views worthy of the Scottish Highlands* (* = shameless groveling to get that bag loaded out of of EDI).

Keith’s suitcase is at the end of the rainbow

Near Sally Gap

Heather all day

Macreddin Village road

Brooklodge & Macreddin Village with postal address in Aughrim is sort of like an Anglo-Irish Neuschwanstein - made to look and feel like it’s older than it is. It’s a destination hotel for older people, Americans or wedding parties, with several themed restaurants and a lounge (bar) with overstuffed furniture that smells like grandma’s house.

But all said, a lovely dinner at the Italian “taverna,” Marie looking lovely and Keith in his blue dress shirt, jeans and brown loafers: Prosecco, melon with prosciutto, penne Arrabiata (sauce was excellent), saffron risotto with prawn and haddock and beef filet with polenta.

On approach to Dublin

Fever Tree Bar at EDI

Glendalough

Sleep and breakfast late and then off to the Glendalough (“GLEN-da-low” or if, you speak German, Glen-da-loch), touristy and for good reason. Meander through the monastic city with ruins of Irish religious settlement from a thousand years ago set in the midst of a massive cemetery with varied and striking headstones. And a walk to the Upper Lake and back.

Glendalough Upper Lake

Near Macreddin Village

Marie insists we look for alternate shirt option for Keith for tonight and tomorrow and Keith is more than pleased to be coaxed into a parking spot near Sean Connolly in Wicklow Town, where proprietor Michael sells us a shirt, a pair of socks and a cool pair of shoes that might be the ticket if we survive the wild and make it Dublin tomorrow.

Keith eats his words because the dark moody elegant dining option known as the “Strawberry Tree” (do them berries grow on trees?) is first rate. The first certified organic restaurant in Ireland, and best eatery here on board the Brooklodge Princess cruise ship, this experience was gastronomically excellent. Prix-fixe, three courses: whipped ricotta with wild beets, blueberry sorbet and ribeye for Marie; short rib, squid and wild sika (venison) for Keith. Irish whiskey (spelling with ey = Irish/American; just y = Scotch/Canadian/Japanese) in leather chairs in the residents’ lounge: local Glendalough for Marie (too sweet); Connemara for Keith (peaty like an Islay, requisitioned by Marie). All jokes about the concept aside, an excellent dinner.

Keith’s bag scheduled for EI3251/22, which could mean it’s at our Dublin City Centre hotel upon check in tomorrow. (“Celtic fans and green suitcases are just shite!”)

Lough Tay

Relaxing departure from Brooklodge, driving north via Lough Tay and Powerscourt House and Gardens. Keith washed his blue shirt overnight so there’s that.

Marie again excels as Irish Regimental Photographer; all credit to her for all pics in this journal, none better than today. Although it is difficult to be selective; feel free to scroll fast.

Powerscourt was a 13th C. Norman castle converted into an Italianate house in the 1900s. The gardens were selected as number three best in ever the world by National Geographic (at some point in the past before we called it ‘Nat Geo.’) and they are pretty good. Only better are those of Versailles and Kew, according to the geographicals.

The current (10th) Lord Powerscourt is the cousin of the director and head gardener are members of the Slazenger family whose tennis ball fortune funded the renovation of the place. Thankfully the overall enterprise is commercially viable - gold club, hotel and spa, distillery, garden center as well as as the requisite shops and cafe are well done and focus the visitor’s attention on the bronze-medal gardens.

Japanese Garden, Powerscourt

Powerscourt House

Pepper Pot Tower, Powerscourt

Sigarloaf

Arriving in Dublin City Centre, which is more quiet town centre, Keith drops Marie and luggage at Travelodge and returns Audi at Spencer Dock without drama. Rain threatens the walk back along and across the River Liffey, which is to Dublin like the Thames is to London, just on a smaller scale. Combo of modern architecture and old buildings almost works in Keith’s estimation.

River Liffey

Samuel Becker Bridge

Major drama acquiring both tickets for tonight’s concert out of the Ticketmaster cyberuniverse. Marie, then Keith, then Marie again, then Keith again, are ready to cry or yell or smash the internets. In blind faith that we will get Marie’s ticket transferred back to Keith’s original account from relative who received in error from Keith back in May we head down Townsend Street to Temple Bar and stuff ourselves with weird pizza.

Temple Bar neighborhood

At its best Temple Bar is the tourist and drinking centre of Dublin, and this Thursday night is no exception. Also our hotel is dominated by Americans in town for the Aer Lingus College Football Classic to be played on Saturday. The Florida State fans are identifiable by their colors, everywhere and at all times, apparently; who knew Keith would ever say that Georgia Tech fans are the classier or at least better dressed. Both teams/supporters “travel well”…who does this?

Meeting two friendly couples from Atlanta illuminates the bare fact that these people will also be coming to the Bay Area as both Cal and Stanfurd now play in the Atlantic Coast Conference. Get your In-n-Out now; Ghirardelli Square will never be the same.

Crowbar, Temple Bar

Crepe or crap?

All sorted - yes, somehow, via www.ticketmaster.ie, whatever that is - we hit Crowbar for half pints of Guinness and a caffe mocha for Keith before securing balcony seats at the Button Factory. Headlining tonight is Lucius, their Wildewoman 10th anniversary tour. Opening act is soul singer and super Irish actress \240Branagh Gallagher (of Commitments fame). The Button Factory is an iconic venue similar but less than than half the size of the Fillmore, and is packed. Lucius’s nonstop 100-min set is intimate and spectacular. Marie might now be a true fan.

Lucius’s Holly Laessig and very pregnant Jess Wolfe feat. Branagh Gallagher (center)

No green suitcase. It is out for delivery.

Let it be

Book of Kells (replica in Trinity College Library’s Long Room)

No green suitcase. Still “out for delivery.”

This is dragging on Keith at this point. Back to blue shirt today but exchanging loafers for new argyle socks and new shoes from Wicklow Town, Keith prepares to get past it with a proper guided tour of the best on offer in Dublin.

Tour guide Martin is a 34y veteran of the Dublin police and has accent for the part. He regularly pushes the rules of where and where not tour groups may congregate at Trinity College, the first university in Ireland in Dublin, in bygone days the second city of the British Empire. Our group of 29 is 27 FSU fans plus us. Keith is sure they are probably nice people but - how to say? - not our people. Digressing from Dublin for a moment, the US population/electorate is essentially California, Boston-NY-DC corridor, Cook County IL, Florida and Texas. The rest? Well, ten western states from Washington to North Dakota to Colorado have the same number of peeps as Los Angeles County. Really interesting that FSU fans are wearing FSU hats, shirts, sweaters while the GT folks are just dressed smartly in navy and sometimes white or gold.

The Book of Kells was created by the monks of Iona around AD 800. It is an illustrated manuscript of the four gospels and considered the pinnacle of Insular illumination (embellishing the first letter of a word with images, patterns and color - what color!; see below). Illustrated gospels like it were created as a act of devotion to God. Written in Latin, these scribes brought written language to the Irish. Based on handwriting analysis, (only) four scribes created the Book of Kells. Hand A was straight laced and did text only, Hand B lots of vibrant colors, Hand C filled blank space by repeating verses and Hand D’s work was so find he is referred to as the Goldsmith.

M is for Marie

Enjoy the photos and exhibits from Trinity College and the Book of Kells Experience. The actual viewing of the book today were two pages from the end of John chapter 6, similar to the following:

After repeated Viking raids on Iona, Lindisfarne and other Scottish and Irish monasteries (they were soft targets: fat monks and plenty of riches) the Iona monks sought to preserve the book by escaping to Ireland, to the Kells monastery, safely 30 miles inland from the sea. Not safe enough: Kells was subsequently victim to Viking attack and the Book taken. Miraculously it was found a few months later buried in a Viking hoard, sans cover (though to be decorated with gold and jewels) but otherwise undamaged. It remained at Kells Abbey until the 17th century.

Book of Kells fancy illustration page enlargement

History of the Book

Mice stealing the Eucharist, Book of Kells

Written on vellum from 185 calves

Fun fact: Archbishop James Ussher, head of the Anglican Church of Ireland and inventor of the young-earth theology still celebrated in outposts of American evangelical Christianity, is to thank for saving the Book of Kells: Fearing Cromwell’s forces would destroy Kells Abbey and any religious iconography found there, as they did everywhere while in power, Ussher had the wisdom to bring the Book to Trinity College for safekeeping. And aren’t we glad he did.

Keith forgets to take a pic of Ussher’s bust in the Trinity College Library’s Long Room. But he did touch Molly Malone’s bust.

Long Room, Trinity College Library

Yes, they are ALL FSU fans

Harp of Brian Boru

Statue of Molly Malone. Don’t ask.

WS

Original Irish independence proclamation, 1916

Jonathan Swift, Dean of the College

Book of Kells Experience. Note the uniformity of spacing and margins, ca. AD 800

The name Dublin is originally Dubh Linn (=black pool) where the rivers Puddle and Liffey came together as a major trade route within among the 150 kingdoms of medieval agrarian Ireland. The Vikings found the location too good to pass up and built there Ireland’s first town (in fact, all the towns). They also gave the Irish coin; theretofore the Irish system of commercial exchange was barter. The Normans though the Dublin town was swell too and built their castle in 1204. And the rest is history until 1922 when, at Dublin Castle, the British government granted independence to 26 Irish counties.

Norman tower, oldest part of Dublin Castle

Dublin Castle in its varied architectural phases

Seat of British power in Ireland for 800 years no longer

At lunch after tour Keith officially loses it after receiving email update that the bag is no longer “out for delivery” but “prepared to be delivered.” Call center guy called “Sam Morgan” (not his real name) promises to proactively reach out to delivery contractor and Keith somehow believes him.

Marie shopping instead of looking at Keith’s face which is best for all concerned.

Next update states ETA by 16.41 so Keith now monitoring front door from the bar. Lots of FSU fans but no green suitcase. Not yet.

Guinness with colleague David at a good pub in George’s, followed by Guinness at the “best draught” in town, Grogan’s, with beloved wife Rebecca, followed by an exquisite dinner with Marie at FIRE nearby.

Dinner is oysters on the half shell followed by Caesar salad and beef: Ribeye for Marie and filet with sauce bernaise for Keith, with fine beans and mushroom sides, glass of Buena Vista cab to share and absolutely nothing more.

3 days late and many Euros short

Last night

Getaway day. We are satisfied and glad to be heading home. Our cab driver to the airport convinces us that we need to visit Ireland again soon; the sunny southeast - \240Wexford, Waterford, Cork - the beach and fishing towns north of Dublin, “the north” - Belfast, Giant’s Causeway - all still before us.

Cabbie is also right on the money: “Travel as much as you can, as soon as you can, because life is short. And whether you revisit somewhere you love or discover new places and people, neither is a wrong decision.” Amen.

Uneventful flight to IAD, not on Aer Lingus, with Keith’s movie better than Marie’s \240(Ministry of Ungentlemanly Behavior(?) by Guy Ritchie. Based on true story of Churchill’s daunting SOE action again Nazi U-boot supply chain which enabled the U.S. to get into the WWII European theatre.)

Marie continues to SFO and home while Keith visits Charlotte and pooch Henry. Lovely evening on at Surfside for queso and quesadillas and rooftop sunset chat. Charlotte totally punks her father in the IAD parking lot, directing him to load luggage into her new lease, a silver Corvette. No, the Corvette isn’t hers.

Annapolis

Decent rest overnight but early start to visit Charlotte’s new starter home in Bowie (“Buoy”), Prince George’s County/Maryland and then lunch in Annapolis.

House closes on Friday and then the real works begins. Charlotte has a good realtor and financing, movers and contractor lined up and ready for action.

Annapolis is a really nice little town. Cream of crab soup and Cobb salad with shrimp for Keith at the Rams Head Tavern. Keith leaves purchase in bag on chair of cafe so good thing Annapolis is only 20min from Bowie, which is also home to the Double-A Baltimore Orioles affiliate, the Baysox.

Great 24-hour visit to reconnect. Keith looking forward to supporting Charlotte as new homeowner with his superior DIY skills and experiences, and, come to think of it, better text Rene V. right now 😜.

Yes, he does really work for the government