The weather was lovely. Blue sky.Whispy white clouds.
The place was beautiful. This is what it looked like when I turned around, away from the stones:
And doesn't this view just beg to be recorded in paint?
I don't know why it took us all day to realize how much we enjoyed our tour guide, the Dapper Young Man, Phil.
For the whole trip, we had been sitting in the second-to-last seats on the bus listening intently to his commentary and guffawing at his jokes--- and often the only ones doing the latter! I don't know if it was because we were a) the only ones listening b) the only ones who got them c) the only ones who spoke english or d) very easily amused.
We found him totally entertaining, informative and charming.
Also? Stonehenge was fuzzy:
Fuzzy wuzzy was a Stonehenge.
Some spots in the grass had sweet little colonies of buttercups and such:
I couldn't resist picking a few and shoving them into my brochure.
Probably totally illegal, but, you know. I'm a rebel like that.
We chatted with Phil a bit for the first time before boarding the coach back to London, and found him to be just as funny as his told-on-every-tour-every-day commentary.
Beth and I have decided that when we go back to England, we are going to take another of his tours and sit right behind him so he has a good audience for the whole day. It's going to be a blast.
We arrived back in London after 8pm and walked out in search of dinner.
I got fish and chips.
That's right, scones and tea in Bath for lunch followed by fish and chips for dinner in London.
I want to go back.