A dream come true in Grantchester and the Orchard Tea Gardens

The Orchard Tea Gardens in Grantchester

     Ever since I saw an article in Victoria magazine about the Orchard Tea Gardens near Cambridge I've dreamed of going there. They conjured up visions of Cambridge University students before the Great War, all dressed in white, sitting among the blossoms, drinking tea and eating scones with honey while they chatted amiably about their exams or their latest poem, and I wanted to be on the spot to pretend to be one of them. Well, I finally managed it!

England 2015 Trip Journal
Tuesday, April 7

     I feel I should be writing poetry since I'm sitting in the Orchard Tea Gardens in Grantchester. It is no mystery to see why Cambridge students liked to come here and sit, contemplating the world around them as they laid back in the lawn chairs smelling the sweet fragrance of apple blossoms, feeling the soft breeze and gentle warmth of spring sunshine as it goes in and out of the clouds. Which is exactly what today is like!

Under the peaceful trees of the Tea Gardens in Grantchester

The iconic green lawn chairs in the Orchard Tea Garden

Baskets heaped with the perfect scones.

     Ah! You lean your head back and close your eyes, and you can hardly open them again they become so instantly comfortable. As soon as we walked into the pavilion with the kitchen we were greeted with the smell of fresh, hot scones – I could even see a huge pile of them on the baking trays covered with cloths behind the counter. Proper scones, they are: big, golden, and halfway between airy and dense. They are the quintessential scones. And once you slather them with dollops of butter, clotted cream, honey and strawberry jam, the result is glorious.

I present to you the perfectly delicious scone of the Orchard Tea Garden!

My lunch: ham, cheese, bread, an apple and 3 chutneys.

Mom's delicious quiche from the tea pavilion.

     There could hardly be a more peaceful piece of English countryside than the village of Grantchester. And the Tea Gardens is the most peaceful spot in the village. We wandered through the shady gate that's tucked away on one side of the Garden, that seems to beckon people to step through it and explore what's on the other side. After strolling over a lush green field we entered a small wood with a little winding path that leads to a branch of the river rolling lazily by.

The enchanting woods we wandered through in Grantchester.

The river in Grantchester.

     It was then time to get on to Cambridge if wanted to get there before the shops shut, so we made our way back through the Tea Gardens and along the quiet road to find our car. Just around the corner from the Tea Gardens is a lovely house with a statue of Rupert Brooke, the poet who in his college days used to frequent the orchard and the lawn chairs where he composed some lines about his memories there in his poem, "The Old Vicarage, Grantchester."

Stands the Church clock at ten to three
And is there honey still for tea? 

There is something fittingly and nostalgically poetic about Rupert Brooke, who had been a promising young student at Cambridge and spent time in this beautiful place, and then wrote this poem about his visits there while he was in Germany during World War I not long before he died in 1915. So I'm glad they are remembering him.

The statue of Rupert Brooke in Grantchester.

     After passing the pond and a few more fields we reached our car. We would have parked in the Orchard Tea Gardens parking lot, but there was some roadwork that prevented us going farther than the old church, so we parked along the street instead.

Grantchester's picturesque pond, complete with swans.

     Well, we spent so much time thoroughly enjoying ourselves in Grantchester that we only had time for a short jaunt back into Cambridge. Around 6:00 we drove straight into the city, using our hand-held map – a good investment – to find the central parking garage instead of the GPS. It was only £2 for 2 hours.

     We were in search of a pin for me to add to my backpack, but, of course, nearly every shop was shut except for one across the street from King's, and their pin was £4.50. I bought it anyway, since, as Mom pointed out, we came all that way to find one. :)

One of my favorite memories with Mom:
coffee and conversation in front of King's College.

     We then grabbed a large coffee from the Caffe Nero across from the college, and decided to sit on the low wall enclosing the front lawn to relax and enjoy our surroundings. We also enjoyed one of our many talks about English history and literature. This time we were contemplating the motivation for a people to follow their leader into war, from the Iraq war motivated by fear of terrorism, to Henry V's conversations with his troops in Shakespeare, who were compelled by force and fear to follow a monarch. (Yes, we do enjoy that sort of conversation...) :) It's hard not to have those in England, when history and literature are connected with nearly everything one sees.

     Then it was after sunset and time to return to Luton!










© Anna Morton 2016 

Walking all over Paris in the Rain

| An afternoon in the Latin Quarter. |

I made no journal entry for this day, so I will be doing the best I can from memory. :)

It always seems to be overcast when we go to Paris. Both times we have come here, it didn't rain in England, and then it rained most of the time in France. But it does make for a very poetic, postcard-looking atmosphere - even if your feet get soaking wet and you have to squish all over Paris in the cold and rain. Besides, there is always a delicious pastry awaiting you somewhere! :)

We had breakfast in (of all places) McDonalds. I must explain why, or we will sound like the most unadventurous travelers, ever. We buy our quiche and pastries in a delicious corner pâtisserie, which we happened to have about 100 yards from our apartment, and then take our spoils to a McDonalds, where coffee doesn't cost an arm and a leg. This particular establishment had a lovely view of the Clúny Museum (the museum of Medieval history) and a busy day in the life of a Paris street.

Our frugal but delicious breakfast of quiche and chocolate chip brioche with coffee at McDonald's.

Our view for breakfast.

 We were there because we had planned to visit the museum, but of course it was closed on Mondays, so we decided to visit the Hôtel des Invalides (the military museum, where Napoleon is buried). On the way we passed the Sorbonne University and the post office so Mom could mail her many postcards. (I didn't write a single postcard to anyone until the last day of our entire trip... I confess.)

A very nice couple from the Czech Republic took our picture in that lovely courtyard outside of the Sorbonne. Another sight on the way to the military museum is the Jardin du Luxembourg, which I have wanted to see for a long time, as it is the place where Marius first sees Cosette in the book Lés Miserables. :) It was lovely, even with the rain and the nearly leafless trees. The gravel crunched pleasantly underfoot, and it was enjoyable to view the orderly straight avenues and neat beds of colorful spring flowers.

Luxembourg Gardens tea and coffee house.

Some ancient and medieval queens of French history that graced the Luxembourg Gardens.

The Palais du Luxembourg.

The lovely spring blooms outside of the palace.

Love those avenues.

Continuing our exploration of the Latin Quarter.

St. Michel was another sight we found on our way to the military museum.

Across the street from the military museum is Rodin's house and garden, so we got a view of his 'Thinker'!
(That's his back in the middle, there.)

There is the Hôtel des Invalides in all its glory! We had to walk around the outside of the entire complex because we didn't realize we had passed the entrance at the beginning. When we got to this spot in the photo we couldn't find a way in, even though there were gates everywhere and people inside. At last we found an opening in the gate, but then we couldn't figure out how to actually get in the confounded building! We wandered around looking for entrances, and when we finally went up the steps of the domed building – the obvious place – everyone was leaving and the doors were being shut. It was closed.

That is one of those moments during a trip when you wish you were back home sitting comfortably in your living room. I wanted to cry. It was worse because I had been checking the time on my phone, and we were supposed to have an hour before it would be closed. But it was then that I realized: Paris is an hour later than London is... It wasn't 4:00, it was 5:00. My phone was in airplane mode, and had therefore not switched over, so we had been operating on a clock that was in the wrong time zone.

I hope you all learn a lesson from that. :)

We found a little restaurant on Rue Cler. Not only was the restaurant itself recommended by Rick Steves, but so was the entire street! It is apparently well known for it's high quality and affordable dining options. And not only was the food delicious, but it was a warm and dry place, which was almost as important at the time as finding a good place to eat. :) If you are ever in Paris and you would like to try it, I would recommend it: Le Petit Cler.

The awning of Le Petit Cler.

Mom having a warming cup of coffee.

Me waiting for our food inside the atmospheric Le Petit Cler.

Again, in Paris, it's about the food.
Here is my omelet.

My mother's steak and potato.
(I had a few bites, too...)

We left the warm and comfortable Le Petit Cler to find another rather famous monument several blocks away...

My feet were well and truly soaked by this time, but a view of the Eiffel Tower in a twilight rain is irresistible. So we braved the chill and the damp and the dark to see that ever iconic sight. And of course it was worth it. It was hard to keep our cameras dry, though, holding a camera in both hands and an umbrella with one, but we managed to capture some memories and keep our cameras in working order.

One plus to your camera getting wet: it makes for some artistic pictures.
It was unforgettable. The Eiffel always is.

© 2015 Anna Morton

Farewell to London, Bonjour from Paris!

| Wandering over to Notre Dame Cathedral on our first night in Paris. |

England 2015 Travel Journal Entry
Monday, March 23

(11:46 AM) London, it's been grand. You showed one of your best sides last at St Pancras Station, making it even harder to leave you. I wasn't sentimental about leaving until this morning. That thought that we plan to come back, and most likely will, softens the blow considerably – but deep down I almost wish I was never leaving.

Leaving London from one of it's grandest stations: St. Pancras International.

The fact that we're coming back to England in a few days softens the blow even more. Really, it feels like we're going on holiday, especially since there are so many Brits traveling with us to Paris. There is an adorable group of ladies in our carriage, probably just older than Mom, who seem to be having the grandest time chatting and enjoying each others' company. One of them came out to the luggage area where we were seated in the poor relation folding seats, having missed our original train because we didn't read the instructions on our ticket that said to check in 30 minutes early, to look for her coffee she'd forgotten about and left out in the luggage rack. Sadly, it was gone, but she seemed quite a cheerful, talkative soul, simply laughing with us about the whole thing.

Making the most of sitting with the luggage.

Now we have normal seats, and they are quite luxurious! I think they are more comfortable than plane seats. They are certainly more commodious than plane seats! A friendly conductor was walking through the train and found us with the luggage, so he asked us if we liked the comfortable new seating area, and Mom just told him we were stowaways, which seemed to amuse him. :) He told us he would check for some empty seats, and after merely a couple of minutes he returned with the good news of two seats for us!

We had planned to leave at 8:30 to catch the Eurostar but somehow we didn't wake up until 8:15, which was the end of that plan. However, despite my minor dissolution into tears, there was no harm done. The lady who got us places on the 11:31 didn't even let us pay for them (again). And on top of that we got to sit and have a coffee from Caffè Nero. :) When will I ever learn not to worry...

I'm always tense when we have to travel anywhere on public transportation. I only sort of relax once we're seated in the vehicle – bus, Tube, train, plane, whatever. But, not only does God say He will protect and care for us, I have seen Him do so countless times.

So, we're under the channel now, presumably. Otherwise it is an unnecessarily long tunnel. At least I won't miss any scenery while I'm journaling.

On the way to our apartment in the 6ìeme Arrondissement

(9:00 PM) Well, bonjour from Paris! I think I am enjoying myself much more this time than the first time we came. I feel in much less danger of being lost in an unfamiliar non-English speaking land, where I could easily be confused into a state of collapse. Travel can be challenging enough without a language barrier. It sounds a bit dramatic, I know, but I believe it gets to the root of what would actually happen to me. :)

Now the people and culture seem much less foreign, and more likely to be friendly and try to help you (even when you can remember almost zero French). Basically, I have learned to see them as people – people like me. The gentleman who carried my bag for me down some stairs in the Metro help bring that about, especially when it's added to my experience with people in general.

The Metro certainly takes time to get oriented to (or re-oriented to, in our case), so we walked back and forth, up and down stairs in the Gâre du Nord trying to figure out where we were going. But if you have a map and can trace the Metro line you need to take to the last stop (happily, they are numbered rather than named and each is a different color), then you can get somewhere. Once you figure that out, then you will find the signs with each subsequent stop from your current location.

It felt a bit unreal when a guy got on during our first Metro ride playing a lively French tune on an accordion. I was thinking, "Is this actually happening? Or are we a part of a tourism video?"

Once we surfaced it was easy to find the apartment. We hovered outside for a bit because we were early and we hadn't asked how to actually get in once we arrived. After standing uncertainly for a few minutes we tried the door, then we tried wifi, and then our host herself appeared! That was quite a relief. She felt bad that she was still cleaning, and we felt bad for arriving early, but it all worked out since she was able to finish cleaning while we began our sightseeing and got to get rid of our bags before doing so by leaving them there.

We promptly found a pâtisserie with a delicious-looking quiche lorraine and chocolate éclairs. :) (Just like our first visit!) Then we decided to walk to the Seine to eat them. I love being in a place like Paris or London and being able to say, pretending to be casual, "Why don't we eat our dinner by one of the most famous, iconic and picturesque rivers in the world, and then maybe walk to Notre Dame cathedral and the Left Bank afterwards?"

In France the food is half of the cultural experience.
Here is our quiche that melted in our mouths.

And an éclair du chocolat.

Our view for dinner: the Pont Neuf and Notre Dame.

After dinner we made our way to the "Iles" – also known as Ile-Saint-Louis and Ile-de-la-Cité – to wander their picturesque streets in the twilight of an early Spring evening. There were a few shop windows that glowed in the waning light, filled with decadent and ornamental stationery, toys, food, or, my favorite, chocolate.

A bridge to Paris's Rivre Gauche – aka the Left Bank, the artistic quarter.

A shop window with chocolate!

As we reached the middle of the Ile-Saint-Louis, standing on one of its narrow cobbled streets that has been there for a thousand years, I looked up and asked Mom, "Where did Notre Dame go?" It just seemed very peculiar to be a couple hundred yards away and not be able to see even a spire of that enormous thing. But that happens to us all of the time. We suddenly turn a corner and there is the Eiffel Tower, a ruined cathedral, even the seaside staring us in the face.

The main street down the Ile-de-la-Cité.

There is no mistaking that Gothic architecture of Notre Dame.

It makes a statement.

Pretending to be Parisians. :)

As we reached the front of Notre Dame the sun was completely set and it got rather chilly. So, being tired and cold we headed back to our own neighborhood and the highly recommended Creperie Bretonne. And thank you, Trip Advisor! We got a ham and cheese crepe for dinner, and a chocolate and chantilly (aka whipped cream) crepe for dessert. That was real chocolate, people. Honestly, a dessert cannot have a much higher quality than that crepe. The same goes for the coffee.

I tell you, in Paris, half the pictures involve food. It is the best in the world!

Mom enjoying our peerless coffee.

And me with dessert. :)

The atmosphere was a very traditional French country with a definite Brittany seaside feel. It was quite small, with one stone wall and one half-timbered wall. It was also only a few blocks away from our apartment... :)



© 2015 Anna Morton