"Growing up, I was
always intrigued by the unknown and attracted to the spontaneity of
travel. I longed to go to Africa and
India; to see the pyramids in Cairo and the elephants in Jaipur. I dreamt of Belize and other tropical
paradises. Never, however, except for when
watching the 1993 film version of The
Secret Garden, did I imagine going to England.
When I reflect on it,
it is unclear to me as to why the desire was never stronger. Countless brilliant literary figures have
come from the United Kingdom, namely William Shakespeare, William Wordsworth,
Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, the Brontës, T.S. Eliot, Oscar Wilde . . . I
could go on. The grass there is greener
than any place I’ve ever been. The roads
are quainter than ours and the air holds a faint trace of sea. You can walk anywhere you want in a
reasonable amount of time. The buildings
are chockfull of stories and centuries of history echo through the lands. It is so unlike America, where everything has
only been in existence for a couple hundred years, if that.
At this point you may find yourself asking, “Why in the world does she have an entire section of this report devoted to pubs?” Well, the answer is simple, you see. I knew from the instant I walked into my first real English pub that they are amongst the most magnificent places on earth, and that alone is reason enough. They’re dark and dingy and smell of beer and pork crackling. The clinking of glasses and rumbling of laughter can be heard above the low hum of the jukebox. Dark wood tables and fireplaces are the norm. People who’ve grown up going to these pubs would likely say I’m off my rocker for speaking so highly of them, but I think they’re full of things that make the soul come alive."
Maybe if I'm feeling really out there, I'll post the whole thing when it's done...
-teddy x
. . .
At this point you may find yourself asking, “Why in the world does she have an entire section of this report devoted to pubs?” Well, the answer is simple, you see. I knew from the instant I walked into my first real English pub that they are amongst the most magnificent places on earth, and that alone is reason enough. They’re dark and dingy and smell of beer and pork crackling. The clinking of glasses and rumbling of laughter can be heard above the low hum of the jukebox. Dark wood tables and fireplaces are the norm. People who’ve grown up going to these pubs would likely say I’m off my rocker for speaking so highly of them, but I think they’re full of things that make the soul come alive."
Maybe if I'm feeling really out there, I'll post the whole thing when it's done...
-teddy x
