Day 1 & 2   Travel  March 21-22-2023

The Roseburg Concert Chorale enticed me to join the group for their Spring 2023 Concert and tour to Cornwall and Wales back in the Summer of 2022.  I have ulterior motives—I want to sing in Wales and find out the origins of the Jones family.  I know that my 7^th generation grandfather was born in Minera, Wales.  I have been researching for over five years.  I tried to set up a short tour back in 2021 (that included England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland) with my wife, Marianne, but we all know how that turned out.  Trafalgar did refund our money.  Now, I have convinced Bobette Moyers, the boss-lady of the Chorale, to let me extend my trip after the tour is over.  All along everything worked out and through a travel agent, I can leave the group after an incredible trip and look for my family in Minera and Wrexham, Wales.  Please check out my Wrexham Blog and find out what happened:        

                                                     yallcometowrexham.blogspot.com

21 March 2023 

I am up sometime after 4 AM, after a good night’s sleep.  I am going to need it because we have 31 hours of airports, planes, walking and tour coach ahead of us.  I am picked up by Tonnie Bernhardson (sop.) a little after 6 AM.  Donna Spicer (mezzo/pianist), who is driving us to Portland Airport, thinks we will need the extra time because she will be parking (long term--PDX Holiday Inn) so we can catch the shuttle to the airport.  It is a dark and misty, nearly uneventful, drive except that the details of the parking receipt Donna has do not give enough information.  She asks Tonnie to check her receipt. Tonnie can't really get on-line or decipher the info.  So Donna tries calling her husband, Wayne, to check out the website, but he is back in bed--smart man.  All is explained when we get to the hotel and park. We get us to PDX before 10 AM and we meet up with the rest of our tour group.  The luggage is loaded--some with the Umpqua wines that our director, Dr. Jason Heald, intends to give as gifts to the fellow choir directors whose groups we will be singing with on the 10 day tour of Cornwall and Wales.

My Delta iPhone App. works gloriously and I have boarding passes for the two flight—PDX to SLC and SLC to Heathrow-London, today. I still do not have confirmation that the KLM flights, Manchester to Amsterdam and Amsterdam to PDX, yet.  I have two--one for April 1^st and the other April 6^th.  ?  This will haunt me until I get on the plane safely in Manchester--6 April.  The travel agent for the tour has kept assuring me 'relax', she filled all the paper work out correctly.  Little did I know then that she did not. 

We catch a kind of lunch at PDX (Deschutes Brewery) where I meet and start to get to know folks going on the tour.  I have an ale and 'option' for salad and 'out' for fries with my sandwich. Good thing, since I know I will be eating fries (chips) for ten days straight in the U.K.  I see that MaryRuth Helppie (surprise tenor) is wearing a lavender fascinator--so proper and her husband, Kevin (equally surprise tenor)--Willamette University Voice Prof. The Delta flight is about 20 minutes late.  We are headed to Salt Lake with a couple hours lay-over there.  The trip is uneventful and I call out when the plane passes over my birth place, Twin Falls, Idaho.  As we near Salt Lake City I get a glimpse of the Great Salt Lake.  It is truly sad to see the expansive Lake of my childhood, reduced to toxic puddles as we

land.  There is still snow on the Wasatch Mountains and it is beautiful.   

On-board the Delta/KLM flight at 6 PM, I realize that there is no one from my group in my section.  In fact I don't see anyone I know until we land in London.  I meet my young seat-mate who gets to go to Birmingham U.K. for spring break to be with his 'auntie'.  The 10+ hours are tough and I don’t have any inclination to sleep—even with three PMs. I watch a few movies, including “Everything, Everywhere, All at Once”…and it really hypes me out.  The Delta crew is excellent.

Heathrow is a kerfuffle.  Once everyone walks up from the tarmac, we descend down a long corridor to the passport check area—with ques that switch back and forth 20 times--only to get to machines that aren't reading passports.  An Asian or Latina woman basically screams at us to 'use the machines', and 'all of you go there' and over twenty of us can’t get the machines to work. We are directed to a single person in a cubicle for help.  That takes at least 10 minutes, but everyone gets through the check point and is heading down more stairs to retrieve luggage.  When I get there Tonnie and Donna think that their luggage has been damaged, but we find their real luggage and all is good. This is because our RCC organizers, Bobette and Janis, had everyone put an orange ribbon on our bags. Janis Clark, the treasurer, rounds up all the bags and we are heading through the exit door that warns people they can’t come back in in!  Suddenly, Janis discovers she has left her bag upstairs in claim area.  She cannot go back through the doors so she is off trying to find help. We get to the long lobby that is used for pick-ups and meet Sue Wardle, our tour guide.  She is with her bag and back pack, a RCC sign and we gather around.   Sue, a Liverpudlian originally, lives in the Lake District—Carlyle.  She makes introductions and has us move along to the back side of the long space and outside to where tours meet their coaches/drives.  Sue doesn’t see our coach and goes looking.  We finally get to us the toilet, but a large group of Japanese tourists get there first. 

Janis finally returns, after twenty minutes--two offices--a good wait and her bags.  Sue returns and the bus parks across the parking lot.  We walk over and meet Grant, our driver.  He has a grayed crew-cut and is very helpful and very quiet West Londoner.  This is the first time either Sue of Grant have worked together and it’s Sue’s first Cornwall/Wales and singing group tour.  She quietly confesses she does sing. We are flying through the country side after about 20 minutes.  It had been somewhat bright and dry when we landed, but now it is gray and drizzly.  Even from the coach (as we must now call it)  the landscape is green and lush with small rolling hills—it reminds us of Oregon and the Umpqua valleys.Sue talks about thatched roofs and their resurgence and hedgerows.

We travel on the double carriageways. Some time later Grant stops at a 'lay-by'/rest area, which are unlike American rest areas.  Here, Welcome Break Fleet - M3 Fleet, Hampshire, it is an especially good on. Beautiful, modern building with lots of natural wood siding and large poles (like tree trunks) hold up an undulating roof.  Inside there is a very large common area food court with lots of fast food shops, as well as a very modern toilet area. At W.H. Smiths I get a paste (beef and turnip).  I go to pay and my £’s (birthday gift from my twin brother) are refused at the cashier.  Kevin Helppie,  offers to pay the £ 5 with the caveat to buy him a drink.  Great gesture.  Thank you Kevin…I owe you a drink.

22 March   Salisbury  Cathedral   Wig & Quill

Back on the double carriageway (freeway), we make good time.  I am not feeling the least bit of jet-lag.  Soon we turn off onto the hi-way to Salisbury.  As we approach the city, traffic increases and gets very busy.  Soon Grant is driving south on Churchway E. and the large spire of the cathedral can be seen above the rooftops. We go through two roundabouts and end up on Exeter--heading north.  It turns into St. John’s Street and Grant stop in front of the White Hart (a stag) hotel—there is even one way

 up on top of the neoclassical-style building. The streets are narrow with heavy traffic.  The group unloads and picks out their bags that Grant has pulled out of the cargo hold and placed on the wet sidewalk.   The walkway is up against the wall enclosure of the Salisbury grounds and so small that folks cannot get by us. The light at the end of the block is very slow and some of the group are anxious to cross, but Sue says do not cross until the light changes.  We get the green, cross and herd into the White Hart. The lobby is small but nice.  It is afternoon tea time and suddenly a troupe of 28 people with luggage invades.  We get 

our key cards and all head to our rooms.  A maintenance guy is painting the hand railings of the only stairway. Donna and Tonnie have to tote there bags up to the 3^rd floor—the guy helps them.  Mine is on 2^nd floor and way down the hallway—with different slopes and slants, even steps at one point.  It is a good room.  The bath is to the right just off the front door and the desk and double bed fill the entire remaining space.  I look out the window and see that I am on the street where the bus let us off—across is the wall to the cathedral grounds and I see St. John’s Gate (entrance to the grounds) less than a block south.

Five of us meet in the lobby and walk to the St. John’s Gate—the traffic light so we cross.  The walk through the gate and onto the tiny street pulls me back centuries.  There are name plaque on the walls--famous statesmen, and authors--like William Golding --“Lord of the Flies’.  We reach the cathedral’s north lawn and walk diagonally southeast towards the impressive gothic building.  It is cold  and it might be 14 or 14:30 (3-3:30 PM). It is good to get inside the church. We check out the cloisters, simple elegant vaulted walkways that line the inner treed law--quadrangle with hundreds of grave markers.  Entry fee is £10 (£ 9 on-line).  The church is so big—acres of floor.  The columns rise gracefully to the ceiling--the same elegant vaults as the cloisters—the inner naïve is lined with clear story windows. The main windows are beautiful with spare stained glass, spaced between opaque (diamond hatched) windows, that is so intricate, colorful and detailed with massive scenes.

There is an amazing large and modern baptismal font that must be 15 feet across.  It is square but the four corners taper out to allow the brimming water to flow out and down into grates in the floor.  Surprisingly when built the church rested on a four foot pool of water. In fact when the massive spire was placed on the top of the church the walls bowed inward under the massive weight and the buoyancy of the earth.  There are hundreds of tombs here, both in the floor and many years later above in sarcophagi.  I make my way down front towards the altar and there is an announcement of a 2 minute prayer.  I sit and the speaker prays for Ukraine. So beautiful and meaningful in this space.  When it is over I walk through the quire (choir) and admire the old wood work.  I am able to walk through all the side chapels and observe a very contemporary altar at the back of space with a large triptych stained-glass window set—beautiful! 

Donna stays for a tour with the Helppie’s, while and Tonnie and I leave through a door in the south transom to find the Magna Carta Charter House. The space is much more intimate, with tall octagonal walls, a raised stone bench on all sides where there are dozens of needle point kneelers with Saint’s names and other Biblical characters.  In a dark tent-like area is the single page of the historic document.  The writing is so small on the ancient parchment that it is impossible to read any of it.  We walk out to the cloister and north to the gift shop.  There is a lot of stuff here, but nothing I need.  We finally meet up with Donna and the three of us leave the cathedral, walking north, seeing students lounging on a sculpture on the lawn, to N. Walk, and Cloister Square to High Street.  We pass residences with smalls gardens that are just starting their spring growth. As we do a mass wave of students just out of school for the day flood the streets.

We pass under High Street Gate and are in the Old Sarum Way. There are old shops on both sides of the street.  The ladies stop at a few shops. The second shop also has a post office in the back.  The clerk tells that the P.O. will exchange money or convert US dollars and €‎’s to £’s.  I have 85 €‎’s and the £ 35 I can’t use.  The worker changes everything to new £’s, made out of vellum (?) and I am set.  I  'steer' us north towards  Butchers and Fish Row—a very trendy shopping area.  The Poultry Cross is covered in scaffolding for renovations. It’s 16:00 (4 PM) and suddenly we are walking like zombies—realizing we haven’t eaten six hours (or slept for 26+ hours). I peek past the building to the market square and see that the pizza place the clerk in the shop suggested is just too far away.

We head south on Catherine back towards the White Hart. I know that there is a pub just north of our hotel--The Bell and Crown, where we could eat. We peek in and say hello to other members of our group drinking.  They inform us that they won’t serve food until 17:00 (5:00).  We are desperate for food and opt to walk east on New Street to another pub, The Wig and Quill.  They also don’t serve food until 17:00—“why would we?” and decide have a drink to pass the time.  We find a table in back near the rest rooms that’s on the way to courtyard. 

RUBY, THE TIBETAN MASTIFF

We see a huge lion-like dog outside—nibbling on a potted tree. Tonnie goes to the door and the dog bolts to the door and puts his paws up on the glass.    She backs off as gets a picture.  Every once in a while someone goes out or comes in–vape break.  A twenty-something waiter, Mark, comes back to us.  He is friendly and helpful, especially with the ladies.  He crouches down so we can hear him over the music—70’s pop. I get a pint of a local darker ale that Mark chooses and the women have Woo-Woo’s cocktails.  We talk and pass the time.  The owner of the Bull Mastiff brings her inside. She is very friendly and Donna poises for a pic.  “Stinky dog.”  Rudy goes in to the next room and

sleeps on the floor. Another table behind us gets seated–two middle aged couples. Drinks come and we order.  Donna gets Fish and Chips and Tonnie and I get Cottage Pie.  Mark educates us on the difference between Cottage and Shepherd’s Pie—lamb in the Shepherds.   

They have a second Woo-Woo each and I nurse my pint. Somewhere in that wait time, one of the women from the other table starts singing to “American Pie”.  Not being shy, we all join in.  I take the verses—forever embedded in my then teenage brain.  Donna’s impressed.  We talk with the two couples and have a casual conversation. The guys are not too sure about these singers from Oregon.  They finish their drinks and leave. A few minutes later Mark comes with the food.  Great looking plates--huge plank of fish and 'pillows' of mashed potatoes on the pies.  Everything is good and we eat.

“You’re So Vain (Carly Simon) is playing as a woman comes out of the toilet singing the song in full voice.  We join in. Afterwards we find out she is from Salisbury and sings in a community group.  We finish, pay (my new Venture Card actually works) and we leave a tip. Staggering (from exhaustion) we make it back to the Whit Hart and say good night.  I find my room and crash.  The mattress is good. I sleep, 18:00 to 24:00 AM and journal until 1:30 AM.