England: Review and Doors

As is normal, people have asked me, "How was your vacation?"  It was a hard one to answer.  On one hand, I got to hang with awesome friends (Princess William, thecamelridingcowgirl, Creedance, and Soul Twin).  I got to go to beautiful places (the Lake District, the Peak District, Oxford, and London).  I got to do some really fun things (see literary sites, eat at pubs, get lost in a sheep pasture, go punting, wander around Hogwarts, see the Tower Poppies, and float through a cave).  

On the other hand, I broke a toe, got really sick, fell down the stairs (and really messed up my already messed up back), and received some really difficult news from France.  Those things, especially the final one, sucked all the rest and relaxation I'd started feeling right back out of the vacation.  I'm thankful for the vacation, but it's hard to describe how it was.  Weeks later, and I am still recovering from 3 of the 4 bad things that happened.  (Thankfully, the sickness was 2 days and done.)

Anyway, I do love England.  With that many good friends living there, I think it's safe to say I'll be back again and again.  This was my 7th trip!!!

And what vacation would it be if I didn't take a few door photos?  I've been saving them to put together in one post.  Here you go:

In Hawkshead:

In Grasmere:

In Keswick:

In Oxford: 

The Alice in Wonderland door:

In London:

I already had a short connection in Brussels, originally slated to be 45 minutes.  Then my flight from England was delayed... The airline was already rerouting people who's connection was 30 minutes so that they wouldn't get stranded in Brussels overnight.  I went up to the counter and asked about my flight.  They said that the connection only takes 35 minutes, and so I should be fine.

Then we sat on the tarmac for 20 minutes.

The minute our plane landed, I jumped up and pushed my way through the crowd in the aisle--something I've never done before.  With my broken toe and my thrown out back, I RAN FOR MY LIFE to make my connection to Marseille.  I figured, I don't care about my suitcase: it'll make it eventually.  But I wanted to sleep in my own bed.  I wanted to get home to my team.  I wanted to be in Marseille.

I ran, and came gasping for breath up to my gate.  They were waiting for me, and said regretfully that my suitcase wouldn't make it.  I said that was fine, as long as I could board.  They let me on, and I walked onto a plane full of passengers staring not-so-happily at me for holding up their own departure.  Thankfully, I was actually not the very final person on board--one more passenger came after me.  I made it home at midnight, and was thrilled to sleep in my own bed.

My suitcase was delivered to my front door the next evening..but didn't get unpacked for almost a week, hahaha.  And thus ended my 12 days in England.