Back-to-back weekends had two special events (159Cong.Rec.S190)

A few weeks after our weekend of walkabouts in and around London, TJ made a second stop in England, in which we got off our feet and onto some transport for a long holiday weekend. After work, we met at the train station to catch our ride to the southern coast. As we boarded the ferry from Southampton, we saw the Queen Elizabeth 2, or QE2, docked nearby (left). We merely crossed The Solent strait, not the ocean, but later that evening, after we arrived at our destination, the Isle of Wight, we spied the cruiser setting off for its trans-Atlantic journey (right).

It was a bit of a hike from the ferry landing in Cowes to our accommodation, 24 Ward Avenue B&B, so Sage was quick to settle into his temporary digs (left). He managed to summon some energy to explore the backyard, especially after he discovered there was a pair of friendly resident dogs to share it with (right).

With Sage ready for a nap, TJ and I struck out to explore the downtown. Just beyond the busy summer season and shy of Labor Day weekend, most establishments were sparsely patronized. We had the Cowes Ale House nearly to ourselves (left), and I didn't even finish my cocktail before a table at The Mess Canteen + Bar opened up for us to have dinner (right).

The next morning, we tired Sage out again with a walk in the environs of Cowes. We started at the Northwood House and Park, a party pad during the Victorian era, which basically abutted the backyard of our B&B (left). Then we headed down to the harbor and traced along the esplanade, past the Egypt Point lighthouse, glimpsing the coastal cliffs in the distance (right). This was as close as we got to one of the island's main tourist attractions, The Needles.

We decided the off-season bus schedules to the chalk rock formation were too limiting, so we headed across the island to Sandown instead. The beach town came off as run-down in the rain, so we quickly picked up some pasties and headed on to Ventnor. With some sun breaking through the clouds, the Victorian resort seemed a bit more inviting (top left). We got our bearings on a 3-D map of the island (top right), then set our heading for The Spyglass Inn (middle), where we sought refuge until the rain stopped enough to convince TJ to swim. The beach huts were locked up for the season (bottom left), so I took shelter under the awning of an out-of-business arcade while TJ took a dip (bottom right).

 

We actually had planned to spend the weekend not at the beach, but in the New Forest, but by the time we got around to booking hotels, there was slim pickings within the national park, so we selected Salisbury instead. This city, on the fringes of the park, is full of Gothic walls (left) and thatched roofs (right).

The market town sits at the confluence of five rivers, including the River Avon (top left), which formed the northern boundary of the grounds of our accommodation, the Grasmere House Hotel (top right). A little ways down the bank, the river once provided energy for a 16th-century paper mill, which has now been turned into the Old Mill Hotel (bottom).

But, by far, the city's biggest claim to fame is Salisbury Cathedral, which has the tallest spire in the United Kingdom (top left). Toward closing time, we sneaked into a service, so we could spy the largest cloister and the largest close in Great Britain (top right). Unfortunately, we got to church too late to see its copy of the Magna Carta, but a view of the cathedral's architecture at night was quite liberating (bottom).

 

TJ couldn't resist a foray into forest, so on our first night in Salisbury we hopped a bus to Ringwood, which sits right on the western border of the park. It is also home to Ringwood Brewery, where tours are by reservation only, so we sampled some of its suds at the Inn on the Furlong (left). After a few pre-dinner drinks, we headed to the very hopping Framptons for a lovely farm-to-table dinner (right).

Many people use Salisbury as a jumping-off point to visit Stonehenge, but we opted to take a circular walk to Old Sarum. On the way up to the Iron Age hill fort, we stopped to read a commemoration stone in honor of William Pitt, Earl of Chatham (top left) and to look back on Salisbury, which up until 2009 was officially called New Sarum (top right). Eventually, we reached the fortifications, which were built by William the Conqueror to shield a castle (bottom left). Built around the same time, but outside the earthworks, was the city's first cathedral (bottom right), which supposedly lies on a ley line with the new cathedral and Stonehenge.

After our six-mile walk, we treated ourselves to some well-deserved refreshments at The Pheasant Inn (left) before we ducked into Danny's Craft Bar & Kitchen across the street for a refueling repast (right).

After cleaning up and depositing a tuckered-out pup, we headed out for a mini pub crawl. First, we hit up the Haunch of Venison, a former hostel for builders of the cathedral spire (top left). Its old bread oven contains what is purported to be the mummified limb of a cheater who literally lost his hand during a card game (top right). The gambler and a lady in a white shawl are said to haunt Salisbury's oldest pub; a few streets away, a woman dressed in black is said to be the resident spirit at The New Inn (bottom left). As far as I know, there's no paranormal activity at The Wyndham Arms, but to us it was worth a visit to have a pint with some alive and lively locals at the birthplace of Hop Back Brewery (bottom right).

A series of walks highlighting our history, natural resources and culture (145Cong.Rec.E170)

Sometimes, TJ and I go on walks that focus more on exercise than beverages. During better weather I made an effort to take Sage for a country walk at least once a month, and one weekend while he was visiting, I roped TJ into coming along for a 4-mile circular walk. From Petts Wood train station we headed into Jubilee Country Park, whose land was mentioned in the Domesday Book and was used in World War II as an anti-aircraft army installation (top left). We crossed the train tracks and Kyd Brook as we headed into Petts Wood (top right). Within a clearing in the the National Trust-protected forest, we stopped at a monument to Francis Joseph Frederick Edlmann, the man who saved the wood from development (bottom).

As we headed back toward the station, we navigated a narrow path between the woods and Soldiering Field, so named because it was where military volunteers trained during the 19th century (left). Across from the field was Flushers Pond (right), which we skirted until we were spit out onto Hawkwood Lane, once the address of the regal Hawkwood House.

But of course, if there is craft beer nearby, we will sniff it out, which is why we ended our walk at One Inn the Wood (left). Sage surveyed the pedestrians as we popped a squat on some kegs-turned-stools set on the sidewalk. Our keg-turned-table was just big enough to hold our two drinks and a homemade pork pie (right).

When we got back to London, the weather was still so lovely, we opted for another short walk, so we could dine al fresco at The Telegraph (top). As we strolled to the "country pub," tucked within Putney Heath, the sun was still shining the cricketers were still batting (bottom left). By the time we headed home, the players had disappeared and the sun was fading (bottom right).

 

Even when TJ is gone, I don't renege on my pledge to Sage. But I often go closer to home, such as a walk near Richmond, which is only a few stops away via train. From the train station, we headed up Richmond Hill, past the wildflower-filled Terrace Gardens (left). Partway up the hill, I caught sight of Ham House, which our route would take us past a few miles later (right).

 

The climb up the hill ultimately leads into Richmond Park, where cyclists participating in Ride London were doing part of their circuit (top left). I cheered them on during my walk to Pembroke Lodge Gardens and back (top right). When I got to the lodge, I realized I couldn't go on the grounds with a dog, so I double-backed to a different path, which meant I only got a glimpse of King Henry's Mound from below (bottom).

From that point, it was mostly flat footing. We enjoyed the shade of Ham Avenues (top left) as we passed by Ham Polo Club (top right). With the help of the greenery, Sage luckily couldn't see over the hedge to realize how many horses were within just feet of him (bottom).

Eventually, we arrived at Ham House, where I took a peek into the backyard through a wrought-iron gate (left). As if that wasn't impressive enough, we circled to the front, where I could take in the full splendor of the 17th-century Stuart residence of a duke and duchess (right).

A few steps from the house's front door toward the river, and I was on the well-known Thames Path. I could've hailed a ferry to take me to the far bank (top left), so I could pass by Marble Hill House, the residence of one of King George II's mistresses (top right). Sage doesn't exactly have sea legs, so I opted to continue on the south bank (bottom left), passing by Petersham Meadows (bottom right) and through Buccleuch Gardens on the way back to downtown Richmond and the train station.

 

On another day, I rode nearly to the end of a Tube line to try my luck with the Oak Trail. Sage and I -- okay, just I -- got lost in some fields a couple of times (top left) before we managed to reach the highlight of the walk: Epping Forest (top right). Similarly spectacular, although more suburban, is Highgate Wood, which we wandered through after completing the southern section of the Parkland Walk. The trail starts at Finsbury Park and, at one point, goes right through an abandoned rail station (bottom).

 

Sometimes, even without TJ, I get a little crazy and go well into the countryside, such as with the Woldingham Countryside Walk. I remember this walk distinctly because it was the first time in a while that I allowed Sage to say hello to a stranger dog, and everything went fine -- even though he was hyped up from just seeing some llamas (top). He equally spazzed out about some cows as we bisected through some farmland on our way to the North Downs Way (bottom left). Eventually, he calmed down at the top of the Surrey Hills as we stepped off the path to let participants in the Woldingham Marathon pass (bottom right).