Glasshampton...

Glasshampton...

I woke this morning to watch the sunrise over the midlands of Western England. I am staying at Glasshampton, a Fransician Monastary in Worcestershire.

Four brothers live here, with guests. I am one of maybe half a dozen visitors. The email inviting me to visit told me to turn left "onto a farm track at the bottom of the hill, just before the bridge." I found the track and followed it for about a mile through woods and fields to the top of a low hill. Glasshampton occupies a converted horse stable, shaped in a U, made of brick, with a wall enclosing the open end. For some reason, they gave me the room with the view. I am in one of the towers that marks the four corners of the U. I have a large window facing due east. The view IS amazing. The quiet, profound.

Since my last post, I've been very busy. My presentation Wednesday went very well, and I left immediately after to drive to Plymouth for another meeting on Thursday. On my way down I detoured briefly to visit Avebury, site of one of the oldest and largest henges in England. Less famous than Stonehenge, it is supposedly better preserved. The scope of the site was amazing - actually it rambled over several square miles. In addition to the henges - several circular arrangements of large stones - there were avenues marked in stone, enormous ditches, burial mounds, a ceremonial gathering place, and a dirt pyramid (more of a cone) that is several hundred feet high. All this constructed over several thousand years by people with no more than stone tools. Why?

Sheep now graze among the stones; you have to watch where you put your feet.

My detour made me late into Plymouth, arriving there about 10pm. My hotel was having difficulty with their Internet connection, so I couldn't post or check email. My meeting Thursday morning went very well, but I felt I should check into my office before I dropped out of sight at the monastary. When I did finally connect I learned that I need to extend my visit for two more days so that I can visit another client north of London on Monday morning.

So my office is making arrangements for me to fly back on Tuesday. We had to figure all this out through spotty Internet connectivity, and no telephone connection. (My calling card didn't work as promised, and my cell phone does not work in UK.) It was complicated by the fact that I had a deadline for arriving at Glasshampton. I made it in time, but only because there is no speed limit on the M5!

Which gets me back to driving. I'm getting the hang of driving backwards. Mostly it takes a lot of concentration, and focusing only on the current situation. You can't think too far ahead, or wonder why all these people are sitting with their steering wheels on the wrong side of the car and acting like it is perfectly normal. I've only been honked at two or three times, and I don't think anyone has given me the finger.

One very subtle but important difference is that On the major divided highways people actually stay left except to pass. That is the way I was taught to drive (stay right except to pass), but in the US we've all become quite used to slow cars sitting in whatever lane they darned well feel like driving in, and fast cars zooming past on whatever side happens to look open at any given moment. In England you never pass on the passenger side of the car. Maybe that says something about about the difference between the US and British cultures. We Americans tend to act like we own the road, whether we drive fast or slow. The British seem to have agreed on some simple rules of the road that everyone abides by.

The other big difference is that there is no such thing as an SUV in Britain. And according to my on-board computer, my 4 door diesel sedan was getting about 43 mpg at speeds between 70 and 85 mph. Maybe that is based on the old imperial gallon, but still: Drive as fast as you want. Get 40+ mpg. mmmm...

Finally, several people have been wondering about the pint situation here. All I can say is that so far it has been a dry trip. I don't touch anything remotely alcoholic while I'm adjusting to jet lag. I'm finally over that, but the Monastery isn't serving either. So maybe this weekend I'll have an evening or two - especially now that I'm staying over - where I can find out what it is like to hoist a pint in England.