England on the road

Flight Alghero - London Stansted; Canterbury

I set off from Cagliari taking the coach to Alghero that arrives in time for the connecting Ryanair flight to London-Stansted. This airline's fare is unbeatable in any situation, even without special offers. The flight is on time, in fact it even arrives ten minutes early, and at the airport I stop to wait for the arrival of my great friend Carlo (with whom I've already been to Ireland), who is coming from Dublin around 18:00. We planned this trip quickly over the course of two weeks, scouring everything we could find on the Internet about England, printing maps, other people's experiences, lists and addresses of accommodations. The first thing we do is sit at the airport bar and relax for a moment to celebrate our reunion once again, then we go to the Hertz counter to pick up the car we booked in advance for a week.

A brand-new, gleaming, shiny blue Fiat Punto awaits us, obviously with the typical English left-hand drive (though if I think about the condition we'll bring it back in, it certainly won't be gleaming or shiny anymore...). Armed with road maps of every kind, we take the motorway that heads down towards the London ring road, noticing, exactly the opposite of what we would have imagined, that the traffic is orderly and flows extremely smoothly even near the metropolis. From the ring road, continuing clockwise, you cross an enormous and ultra-modern arched suspension bridge, which spans the Thames at a point where the river is quite wide, and ends at the toll booth where you pay a fee (in fact, motorways in England are all free but you pay tolls for bridges). We then turn off onto a junction for the South-East, towards our first destination, which was Canterbury.

The motorways are well signposted, but you have to understand how they work, because sometimes there are so many signs that they're confusing, and they disappear at crucial moments... Another detail we don't take long to notice is the roadworks: only the meticulousness and precision of the English could lead to such a spectacle: thousands of signs placed on the road surface in an incredibly symmetrical manner, exactly equidistant from one another and sometimes for a length of kilometers! (or rather, miles).

And the real gem is that, despite the very meticulous roadworks signs, you don't see anyone working and there's not the slightest sign of work, maybe a bulldozer, a truck, nothing! Sure, this could happen once, but over a week we'll have the chance to ascertain with enormous astonishment that all of this is absolutely usual: finding the same motorway restrictions down to one lane, which slow down traffic, and no sign of roadworks! Not to mention that there are speed cameras and hidden cameras in the posts of the roadworks signs, ready to snap if you exceed the 30 mph limit... ahhh the English! Closing the motorway parenthesis, after about an hour and a half we reach Canterbury, a smiling and splendid little town, where we find with little effort a 3-star hotel/BED & BREAKFAST, the Ersham Lodge, just ten minutes on foot from the center.

The price of 25 pounds each seems acceptable to us, considering that it's already dark and we're tired, and the interior and the room are truly characteristic and beautiful. After a quick freshening up we go out around 22:00, excited as always happens at the beginning of any trip, and with a great desire to do things. We stroll through the center trying to track down the majestic Cathedral, symbol of this little town, but it's impossible to get close because it's surrounded and enclosed by houses, with only one entrance through a gate that obviously is only kept open during the day. We sit down to drink a beer in a nice pub in the center, and then we walk around the perimeter of the town where the partial high medieval walls still stand. So all that's left is to throw ourselves into bed, rest and recharge our batteries for tomorrow!

Canterbury; Dover; Hastings; Brighton; Winchester

Early in the morning, after a hearty breakfast, we head back towards the center of Canterbury. In the daylight you can definitely better appreciate the architectural details of many little houses in the quiet alleys, the serene life of the town that takes place entirely in the center, which is a pedestrian area. Our destination is obviously still the Cathedral, so we return to the main street, with the only majestic access to the courtyard that leads to the monument, and we go in. The impact is no small thing, since it's the first English cathedral of this kind that we visit, and it's truly large and beautiful. After a few photos and videos, we buy groceries in a market and immediately continue towards Dover, in search of the White Cliffs, famous precisely for their color, due to the composition of the rock they're made of. We first arrive at St.

Margaret at Cliffs, a typically touristy village with houses overlooking the coast, and afterwards we go back to Dover where, to be honest with some difficulty understanding the directions on the signs, we finally find the renowned cliffs. We park in a paid parking area and take a walking path that skirts the cliffs from above. The view around is very varied: behind us, in the background, you can glimpse the enormous Dover Castle, below (only at first) there's the commercial port with a continuous coming and going of ships docking, and in front are the characteristic cliffs, truly white, that contrast with the bright green of the meadows. From the brochure you understand that the path continues for several miles and further on the view, arriving at an old lighthouse, must be even more beautiful.

But we have hundreds of things still waiting to be seen, and after an hour of relaxing on the grass where we nearly get a nice tan (in fact it's a beautiful sunny day!), we head towards the castle. We take a nice drive around the castle, truly majestic, and then continue along the coastal road, passing a succession of beautiful tourist towns where the English come to spend their holidays. The first is Folkestone, very pretty and distinctive, then after a few other less notable ones we stop at Hastings, built right up against the high stretch of coast and home to a characteristic fishing port. In the huge port parking lot, the view is interesting: in the background the cliffs plunging into the ocean give the landscape a wild feel, on the beach in front children play football and in the port you see a bit of everything, from old freight trains to fishing boats.

We walk towards the center, noticing on the right a particular cable car that takes you to the top of the coast, where there's surely some monument to visit. It's full of little restaurants and fast foods with outdoor tables, which we can't resist, since we're incredibly hungry. Too bad we chose, in the rush to gulp something down, the classic Fish & Chips, found everywhere here in England, which offers precisely fried fish with potatoes. Even though the cod is fresh and we're in a seaside location, the dish turns out to be nauseating and a real brick for our stomachs...

maybe it's that we Italians aren't used to this cuisine, but we promise ourselves not to make the same mistake twice! The second gem of the day comes towards the end of lunch, when an awful certainty hits us seeing a sign in front of the port: we didn't pay for parking!! Good grief, we're not yet used to English habits, we have to make a good run in the hope that no one has noticed. What's more, while we're hurrying back and getting into the car, we realize that the fine would be no small amount: quite a nice way to start our trip! Luckily, the blind goddess assists us and no warden shows up in the area to deliver the blow... Having exited the port in a few nanoseconds we take the coastal road again, until we reach the beautiful city of Brighton.

This is the most touristy and well-organized city in all of Southern England, a real meeting point for young people and for the English who come to spend their holidays here. The coast is the heart of the city, with a grandiose seafront organized impeccably. Just to be clear, the beach certainly isn't much, so coarse, sometimes actually pebbled, and the sea certainly isn't an example of clarity and transparency, but when the English organize something they do it well and they've truly transformed this city into a playground. The seafront is very long, you can't see the end of it, and it's all dedicated to relaxing and fun walks, with sports equipment, various little shops, kiosks, bars, small inns. There are thousands of tourists of all ages, from little children with tricycles to old folks on bicycles but, obviously, the majority are young people and kids.

We enter a tiny shop that sells handmade "sea" products, that is objects and souvenirs made with shells of every kind, small and enormous and with the most varied shapes I've never seen before. Further on the highlight of the seafront: the Brighton Pier, which is one of the many piers on the seafront with the peculiarity of having an amusement park on top. In fact you walk along the narrow part of the pier between a succession of refreshment spots and various games (slot machines are very widespread) and you arrive at the wider part, at the end, where there's a miniature Go-Kart track, and nothing less than three different roller coasters, obviously small in size, but very suggestive precisely because they're on the ocean! There's a continuous coming and going of people, enormous seagulls flying everywhere and taking food from tourists endlessly, putting on a real show.

The view is very suggestive also because the sun is starting to set and the rays light up the whole city in the background, with the buildings and hotels acting as a surrounding wall (it feels like looking at a Miami postcard); all of it visible excellently from the pier. On the other piers, several fishermen amuse themselves with their fishing lines and some tourists in boats or motorboats enjoy the splendid landscape. Charged up by this serene and fun atmosphere, Carlo and I decide to join in by throwing ourselves onto one of the roller coasters that attracts us the most: the one with the loop-the-loop! When else would you get the chance to ride a roller coaster over the ocean? And so we bravely climb onto this amazing attraction... A bit dazed we exit the pier and head towards the center of Brighton, inland.

After a few laps we discover the city's most famous monument, the Royal Pavilion, a sort of enormous mosque created with entirely Oriental architecture. We enter the beautiful park, very well kept and adorned with lovely flowers, seeing the splendid mosque from its different facades, even though by now it's almost dark and it's time to leave. For the night we plan to go sleep in Southampton, one of the largest cities in the South and a commercial port, but once we arrive at our destination the city disappoints us a bit. You don't see anyone around the streets, it seems a sad and empty environment and, moreover, we don't even notice any accommodation facilities. Since it's not too late yet, we decide to risk a long haul all the way to Winchester.

Basically in a single day we cross half of England! We arrive in Winchester in pitiful condition, exhausted from the long journey, and we think we'll quickly find a BED & BREAKFAST to stay in, since this is a town quite renowned for tourism. But it doesn't go that way at all: we wander around in vain for quite a while until we find, by now desperate around 22:00, a sort of BED & BREAKFAST right above a pub.

Winchester and the Round Table; Salisbury; Stonhenge; Sherbourne; Yeovil

We go to visit the town of Winchester, truly splendid and charming, also with a nice pedestrian area in the center and very characteristic little alleys. We park not far from the center, in the usual paid area, this time with a more decent automatic machine, paying for a 4-hour period. Once out of the car our eye immediately falls on a Pizza Hut, a famous restaurant chain in England, where for a fixed price you can take from the buffet every type of pizza and various salads in whatever quantity you want, but only between 13:30 and 14:30. "At 13:30 we'll be there!" Carlo and I think simultaneously: this is certainly the only certainty of the day! Heading up towards the center, we follow the signs to conquer our first legendary stop: King Arthur's Round Table, which is in the Great Hall.

The famous table is displayed in a large hall hanging on a wall, and you can clearly see the 24 portions into which it's divided, each with the name of the knight to whom it belonged. We enjoy our legendary Round Table for a bit and then continue further up, at the end of the town, where we visit Winchester Cathedral, which along with Canterbury's is considered among the most beautiful in England. To the right of the main facade extends a courtyard, where absolute peace and tranquility reign, as is typical of these religious places. On a lovely English-style green lawn lies a strange sculpture by some imaginative artist, depicting two men, which makes a really nice photographic subject with the cathedral in the background. It's 13:15 and we have an urgent and unmissable appointment to keep.

Having run back to the entrance of the town, at exactly 13:30 and a few seconds, punctual as a Swiss watch, emotion overwhelms us and we almost burst into tears of joy, in front of this shiny and colorful Pizza Hut sign complete with a buffet sign! After lunch we go to Salisbury. We arrive around 15:30 or so. It's also one of the renowned English towns famous for its cathedral. In fact this Salisbury one seems to me the most beautiful of all, enormous and with a very tall spired bell tower (a good 127 meters if I remember correctly, the tallest in all of the United Kingdom). We go inside to visit the Cathedral which is wonderful, with its very tall Gothic naves and decorated chapels. A curious detail is the display of the oldest clock in England, and probably also one of the oldest in the world; it looks like anything but a clock as we understand it today.

Just outside the cathedral, on the other hand, one of the only five authentic copies of the Magna Carta existing in the world is displayed, and the friendly guide there, a poor man who's about to collapse on the floor from how old he is, explains to us while swallowing quite a few words the history of this very important piece of paper, which seems to be the best preserved and legible of all the other four. The trip to Salisbury is brief also because we absolutely want to see, before closing time, another legendary mythical stop to conquer on our trip: Stonehenge. You reach this monument, surely among the most famous in the world, directly from the motorway, after a brief exit to the right.

The impact from the motorway is strange, because you go over a hill all of a sudden and from above the remains of Stonehenge appear in the distance, so evocative and isolated immersed in an endless green field. They seem more majestic coming from the road than actually looking at them up close. Certainly the position of such an important historical monument, famous mainly for its aura of mystery, is definitely not fortunate right next to the motorway, with all the cars speeding by. Despite everything I confirm Vincenzo's view, who rightly states that standing in front of these stones, so loaded with legends and mysteries, together with the emotion of finally being able to see them live and not just in documentaries, makes the place incredibly evocative.

At the entrance you buy the ticket and receive a guide, a sort of phone with numbers where you can choose the spoken language, while on the right there's the classic shop stocked with everything. You walk a short stretch of road that reproduces, drawn on the walls, how the site must have once been: enormous, absolutely much more vast and imposing than now, considering that of the outermost stone circle only one remains standing today. The tour begins with a path that follows a 360° ring on the hill around Stonehenge. Every so often there are signs with numbers, which when pressed on the phone guide let you listen to their description. From the guide there's still no certainty about the mysteries of this site, the exact how and why it was built, what it was for, how it was used, but all possible hypotheses are made, from astronomical calendar to UFOs.

The most beautiful part is at the end, where you can appreciate and better see the remains, preserved more intact and numerous, of the monoliths, and it also becomes more evocative towards sunset when the sun lights them up in backlight. Excited by this conquest of ours, we can't not immortalize this moment and taking advantage of the fact that it's closing time and there are almost no tourists left, Carlo and I devise the usual self-timer photo, this time lying on the ground! Shortly after we get back on the motorway towards the South-West of England, and since it's not completely dark yet, we detour for a scenic drive to Sherbourne, a village incredibly left outside of civilization and still intact as it was centuries ago.

The road to get there is quite something, narrow and winding, with high stone walls immersed in an overwhelming green, that every so often give way to beautiful stone cottages with sloping roofs. Life here seems to have stopped, we almost feel like intruders with such a technological thing as the car... The village itself is absolutely wonderful, a little fairytale-like settlement, a model of a perfect historical reconstruction that seems created specifically to astonish the tourist, but this time it's all authentic (and you don't pay anything!). Here tourism doesn't even exist yet, and the proof is the fact that we can't even find a little place to sleep. There's only the classic village pub with somewhat older people drinking their tasty beer, and the streets of the center are deserted.

A real museum piece, absolutely unmatched for understanding the real English countryside, how it must have once been and how, even if only in a few stretches, it has remained even today. After Sherbourne, now dark, we continue further down arriving at Yeovil, an anonymous town where we find, finally without difficulty, a decent BED & BREAKFAST at a decidedly convenient price. After refreshing ourselves we go out a bit through the streets of this town, ending up drinking a beer in a strange pub, full of kids having a sort of party. It wasn't really the best, and we start to realize that nightlife certainly won't be the highlight of this trip: here we're in England and not in Ireland, the culture of the pub every day at all hours, even in the most remote place, doesn't exist!

Camelford; Tintagel and King Arthur's Castle; Watergate Bay; Newquay

We follow the motorway that goes down to the far South-West of the island, passing through Exeter where we get tangled up with the signs, ending up going around the city a couple of times looking for the right turnoff towards North Cornwall. We exit after an hour of motorway at a junction, taking a secondary road that leads to Camelford, a small village that some guides consider the most accredited Camelot (but Vincenzo for example mentions South Cadbury). We stop here for lunch in a characteristic local inn, where there's practically only me, Carlo, the girl who runs the place and two or three other locals who come in and out for the village gossip. You don't see a single tourist, not even on the streets, we're completely immersed in the real life of a remote place in the south-west of England! Having left this small center we continue towards the unmissable stop of Tintagel.

This time we go to conquer King Arthur's Castle, that is the ruins of the Castle where legend says King Arthur was born. At the beginning of this splendid tourist town, we leave the car in a designated area in front of the Tourist Office, where we go in to take a look at the brochures and guides. A map shows the path to follow to get to the castle, towards the end of the town. So we walk along the main street, in a succession of splendid little shops of every kind, located in wonderful stone houses, which make the atmosphere truly evocative together with the cold and cloudy weather. Particularly striking is the characteristic Old Post Office, famous and super popular in postcards, considered the oldest still operating in England.

A little further on, from a turnoff to the left the dirt path begins that descends rapidly towards the coast, and it turns out to be a splendid walk immersed in the intense green of the area. After about twenty minutes we smile at the sight of the infamous eyesore that our legendary Vincenzo di Marco talks about, a modern castle-shaped hotel, built on the left up on a promontory, with which we strongly agree on the 'clash' with the magic of this place. At the end of the path we arrive right up against the ocean, and we stop to observe the beautiful scenery: the ruins of the castle on the left, with a strange wooden bridge that joins the two promontories, where on one side stands the old castle of King Arthur and on the other the village, the ocean in front quite rough and angry, and a succession of very green hills on the right where other small paths climb up.

Below there are even various caves, which at low tide can be reached on foot. So we go near the bridge, where there's of course the booth to pay the tickets, and we choose as our first option to go to the right, towards the ruins of the village. On the left instead a very steep staircase leads to the castle, truly built in a unique and exceptional place, with the walls at the edge of the promontory ending sheer over the ocean from a considerable height! Now this really is an impregnable and fantastic place! (the legend, which we learn from Vincenzo, seems to say in fact that it was conquered only by trickery through a magic of Merlin). Having crossed the little wooden bridge we climb up this promontory, where a scenic walk is absolutely a must.

In the first part you admire the few remains of the walls of ancient dwellings, and the path continues high along the coast up to the other extreme tip where the drop towards the ocean intensifies. From here you enjoy a fantastic view of the place, you see the whole coast, the ocean, the remains and the ruins, even the village of Tintagel in the distance. Everything is enormously evocative, and other small details contribute to making this one of the most beautiful natural places in Cornwall, such as a small waterfall, the flowers, the hidden caves, the continuous presence of enormous seagulls flying everywhere.

Carlo is even dozing off lying down completely relaxed enjoying the superb view! Continuing on the back of the promontory, the tourist path goes up to the top and disappears along with the tourists, leaving room for the desolate prairie where you can walk and admire the 360° panorama. A few sporadic signs on the ground explain the discovery of remains, some still with a mysterious meaning of how and why they were built. Having returned to the starting point, having gone all the way around the promontory, we climb up the steep staircase that leads to the remains of the actual castle, whose walls can now only be guessed at from the few remains of the foundation enclosures. The wall ends sharply sheer over the ocean and it's certainly not a sight suitable for those who suffer from vertigo! Another path starts from here and leads back halfway towards Tintagel, where we return around 16:00.

Having picked up the car we travel a good stretch of secondary coastal road, almost desolate, in the north of Cornwall, and we stop at a massive bay called Watergate Bay, renowned especially among English tourists who love surfing. The view is exceptional: kilometers and kilometers of beautiful beach, enhanced even more by the play of the tides, with the high coast sheer behind, and the ocean waves slowly retreating creating hundreds of meters of shoreline where you can have fun running and walking trying not to sink too much into the wet sand! And that's exactly what we do for a good half hour on this splendid stretch of coast, which continues further on for many more miles in various renowned bays, some even with very high sea stacks, which however we can't find.

Instead we reach, when it's almost dark, the smiling town of Newquay, also a destination mainly for almost exclusively English tourists. A brief tour of the seafront immediately makes us understand that this is a wonderful and well-organized place, packed with shops and entertainment and that we won't be disappointed. We easily find a BED & BREAKFAST near the center, which is also very cheap and the most characteristic in terms of interior decor, with vividly colored and cheerful wallpaper. The lady who welcomes us is also extremely kind and helpful. After refreshing and resting adequately, we go out to visit this promising town, where in reality we find almost everything closed by now, even though it's only 22:00.

Our sightseeing tour is fortunately definitely enlivened and made exciting by the splendid views that the seafront gives us, with a wonderful beach nestled between the high rock walls. There are two of them to be exact, both very large and well organized, reachable on foot by going down the steps. One in particular strikes us dramatically, where we spot with wonder a house perfectly isolated built on top of a high sea stack, and connected to the "mainland" only by a long modern arched bridge. We head towards this incredible construction, but the bridge is reachable only through the entrance of another private residence, so we go down the long staircase sheer on the wall that leads to the beach, and we walk in this magnificent bay.

Having climbed back up another staircase near an aquarium, we continue the tour through green meadows and squares, noticing how in this town, in a way absolutely more accentuated than in any other, the enormous seagulls big as lambs dominate every place. There are some everywhere, often in groups, and you practically only hear their cry through the well-lit but deserted streets (we seem to be the only tourists around!). All of this creates an evocative and magical atmosphere, which makes Newquay one of the most beautiful and characteristic towns I've seen so far.

Newquay; Land's End; Penzance; St.Michael's Mount; Mullion Cove; Lizard Point; St.Austell

We return near the bay with the legendary villa, which the lady at the BED & BREAKFAST tells us belongs to a rich and egocentric old lady, to take some obligatory photos. After all, for us it has the same value as any other attraction, such a unique and singular construction! In the sunlight we notice that these are the hours of low tide, just as last night too, seeing that in the little harbor in the distance there's no water and the boats are resting on the ground. The beach is quite wide, but with high tide the ocean surely advances up to covering the base of the sea stack, making the villa even more evocative. Having finished the visit to the villa we take the motorway that leads towards the extreme western tip, not only of Cornwall but of the entire British island.

You arrive precisely at a place called Land's End, that is where the land ends, much publicized not only for the natural beauty of the coast but also for the amusement park that's located there. Having left the car in the usual paid parking lot you pass right through the park, divided into several parts with various attractions. To be honest they don't inspire us that much and we continue directly towards the coast. The view here is truly beautiful, there's no denying it, there are several spots to enjoy a spectacular view of the coast, in particular continuing along the path that moves a bit away from the amusement park. We pass through a suspension bridge and go around a promontory, the tourists become fewer and fewer and the place takes on decidedly wilder contours.

Having left the main path we descend freely right up against the very green coast, to admire more closely the numerous bird colonies and the ocean. Obviously I take photos endlessly, exhilarated by this splendid panorama, until Carlo catches my attention pointing at something sticking out of the waves that looks like a head. And it is indeed! It's nothing less than a seal! It's well known that on this stretch of coast, with a bit of luck, it's possible to spot seals, but we didn't really believe it! In reality we discover that it's a seal thanks to two guys who have binoculars and are looking in the same direction, since it's quite far, it only surfaces now and then and it's hard to make it out.

Anyway, exhilarated by this for us sensational sighting, we stay a while waiting for the seal to surface several times and I try to photograph it, even though the resolution with digital zoom unfortunately turns out to be quite poor. Having left Land's End, we go back towards Penzance, the only charming inhabited town in this desolate area along with St. Ives. We park the car in the characteristic little harbor and walk through the center, stopping to eat in a nice local place (there's no Pizza Hut!). After dutifully buying various postcards, we continue towards Marazion, a very small village with very narrow streets, made a fundamental stop to reach St. Michael's Mount, an islet famous for being the poor brother of Mont Saint-Michel in Normandy. The features are the same, that is the possibility of being reached by land via a paved path that appears "magically" at low tide.

At high tide you can still reach it by ferry. The tide times can be asked somewhere or are found posted. Unfortunately for us when we arrive it's high tide which lasts until tomorrow morning, and we therefore decide to skip this stop limiting ourselves to looking at it from the coast, on a day with poor visibility by the way. We subsequently reach the uninhabited Lizard peninsula stopping at a breathtaking bay called Mullion Cove. It's a very small village with a sort of little harbor immersed in an incredibly beautiful place. Children calmly swim diving from the small pier, while we shiver from the cold just watching them. You can see numerous paths that climb up and follow the high and spectacular coast, surely ideal for a nice trek, but we only have time to climb a steep hill in our own way, literally scrambling towards the top excited by this grandiose panorama.

The view is unique and breathtaking and would deserve a much longer stop than our hour, which we use to admire and photograph everything meticulously, from the imposing sea stacks to the very green cliffs that plunge headlong into the deep blue of the ocean. Having picked up the car we arrive, after a narrow and long country road quite evocative, at the tip of Lizard Point, also very beautiful, which represents the southernmost point of all England. Here we refresh ourselves adequately at a local kiosk and admire the panorama, before sunset arrives. From the postcards we realize that there are other beautiful bays in the area similar to Mullion Cove, which make this peninsula an absolutely unmissable destination for its natural beauty. Just before it's completely dark we reach St.

Austell, the main inhabited center of this area immersed in the hills, unlike the many coastal towns of Cornwall. We find an enormous BED & BREAKFAST, really characteristic, laid out over two floors plus the third right under the roof, where our spacious room is. The air outside is nice and cool, you can feel the transition from the coast to the hills, but obviously inside the BED & BREAKFAST the heating is turned on properly. At night we go out remaining rather disappointed by the fact that in one of the main inhabited centers there's nothing open, and obviously I'm not talking about shops, I mean pubs or some place to get something to drink or have fun: there's nothing! In total desolation, we wander around the streets of the center at least to be able to say we've visited this town.

Eden Project; Cheddar; Wells; Glastonbury and the Thor; Bristol

The predestined stop for today is the Eden Project, a stone's throw from St. Austell, much publicized and considered, rather exaggeratedly, almost a wonder of the world. It's the currently largest greenhouses on the planet, built to ambitiously create (and the name proves it) an environment that gathers an enormous quantity of the plants existing in the world, from the most common to the rarest. Once you've bought the ticket, the most expensive paid in the whole trip to see a single attraction, you follow another long scenic path that descends towards the greenhouses. The impact is certainly no small thing and the amazement is guaranteed upon seeing these enormous bubble-shaped greenhouses! The complex is divided into two sections, different only in size, each composed of three large domes of which the largest is the central one.

The first sensation we feel upon entering the sub-tropical zone is one of general suffocation, at the limit of endurance, and it's no coincidence that every so often inside there are refreshment corners. The sense of oppression is accentuated by a crowded throng of tourists, practically all English and moreover all elderly! The landscape is quite astounding, between artificial waterfalls, various bridges, tropical plants, and a gigantic and very tall roof built with the enormous hexagonal cells of the greenhouse. All of it boils down anyway to a simple walk through these gigantic man-made domes, more than to a real nature visit, perhaps also because of the discomfort of the crowd and the temperature that don't allow you to fully enjoy the place and make you quickly want to leave.

Carlo and I don't hide being a bit disappointed from this point of view, while fully appreciating the singularity of this extraordinary place created artificially by man (perhaps, precisely, too artificial and commercialized!). Having left the Eden and picked up the motorway, we do a single crossing all the way to Cheddar, famous for the production of its cheese and from a natural point of view for the presence of an imposing gorge. Having arrived around 15:00, we have lunch in a decidedly artisanal place, the only one open at this time of the afternoon, run by a nice gentleman who also acts as waiter and by his wife who cooks in the back. In fact it feels like being in the living room of a house, guests of this gentleman, cordial and helpful, with a quite homely menu and excellent traditional culinary dishes of the place.

Immediately after we move towards the Cheddar Gorge, a deep and very beautiful gorge, with high vertical walls and a particular conformation, which you can easily drive through via a winding road that passes through the middle. After a brief stop for photos we continue South towards Wells to see the beautiful Cathedral, but having in fact already seen quite a few others, we don't stop and give priority to something else. It's almost 17:00 when, still continuing South shortly after Wells, we arrive at Glastonbury. Apparently passing by car through the streets it looks like a very ordinary town, like so many other English ones, the usual little houses with gardens, green lawns and so on.

But having parked in the center and gotten out on the street just ten minutes were enough to understand exactly what Vincenzo means in his memoirs! First of all, we immediately agree on the fact that here mysticism is intrinsic to the place and you breathe a truly singular and evocative atmosphere in this town considered the capital of New Age. Every inhabitant is a character, there are people of all types and all colors, some very sloppy in their clothing, others in their look in general: in short, it seems anyway to be walking among vagabonds and travelers from who knows what part of the world, with backpacks on their shoulders, because, as Vincenzo narrates before us and as they say here in the place, no one ever arrives at Glastonbury "by chance".

Everyone is looking for something, the enlightenment that can change life, the religious rite that allows going beyond the common world of mortals. We decide to undertake the fateful purifying hike, climbing to the top of the Tor, a hill with a tower on top, from which you enjoy a grandiose view of the valley, and with numerous legends even linked to the Holy Grail. As the hill approaches with its tower dominating the landscape, we're struck by the incredible number of local characters, and the gems follow one after another! One person remains with arms open as if forming a cross for more than ten minutes on the top (while we wonder astounded what he's doing), and during the last part of the climb some kids in a circle, visible in the distance, are performing who knows what ritual or strange mass.

On the path then you constantly notice numerous stains that look like melted wax, a strange smell in the air, and a girl, by now near the tower, stops us talking about very strange things, about those kids down there and about the fact that she's a witch (and I have no doubt that she really believes she is, she must have smoked the impossible...). Obviously we pay no attention to her and reach the top, where the view turns out to be truly grandiose! You can make out the entire valley, the town of Glastonbury in backlight, while the sun sets quickly, and the panorama ranges over the entire green English countryside. Our efforts are greatly rewarded! After catching our breath contemplating this splendor and taking the obligatory photos of the Tor monument, we descend this time via the main path, much less steep and less long.

Unfortunately we're mortified at not having had the time to visit the Chalice Well, the garden that Vincenzo talks about, a place of peace and silence where a ferruginous water spring would have (again according to legends) healing powers. More than satisfied anyway by this unforgettable stop in Glastonbury, a town outside of any common parameter, we pick up the car to head North and reach Bristol, where we count on finding accommodation for the night. We arrive calmly around 20:00 in the evening, and we're struck by the landscape around surrounded by imposing forests, skirting the river with the very tall bridge that has become almost a symbol of this large city.

Having entered the center, we start going in circles looking for any accommodation, but astonishingly we find nothing to welcome a poor tourist looking for a place to sleep, not even a hotel sign! We only observe many young people and kids going out to have fun (it's Thursday evening), and we're forced after an hour of useless searching, to move outside the city in the hope of finding some BED & BREAKFAST in some nearby village. In the end, having lost our bearings despite having the map at hand and no longer being able to understand our position and direction, we wander along isolated roads immersed in the forest with an almost unsettling and gloomy appearance, finding some inhabited hamlet now and then but without any possibility of accommodation.

Our hopes are now fading around 22:30, we're exhausted and destroyed, with a strong allergy towards the car cabin after hours of searching, when like a mirage the sign of a guesthouse appears on a street with a few houses around. We stop without delay at this very particular dwelling, furnished excellently in every respect by the owner of the place,

Oxford

We consume a lavish breakfast in the room also surrounded by mirrors of this singular guesthouse, and resume the journey returning toward Bristol and following the directions for Oxford. It is a pity not to have much time, because Bristol, apart from the inhospitality of the previous night, really seems an interesting city that deserves a more in-depth visit. After a long crossing through the center of England, mistaking among other things the highway, something that forces us to lengthen quite a bit and lose no small amount of time, we finally arrive at the renowned Oxford.

The best solution would probably be to leave the car outside the city and take the bus in the special areas called "Park & Ride," following the same advice of the English signs, but we realize this too late and go directly into the center, to the usual very expensive paid parking lots (this time, however, we kept the count of the hours and the passing of time very well in mind...). Once the car is left, we first enter a Tourist Office to get the map of the city and a list of the BED & BREAKFASTS, then we walk continuously through the center until lunchtime, when we choose to refresh ourselves at the by now more than tested Pizza Hut. Oxford is a truly pretty little town, nice for living the student life, full of young people, green spaces, parks, colleges and universities.

History and art are intrinsic in the streets of the center, rich in well-maintained monuments, churches, even the university buildings are grandiose and showy. We don't have much time to stop and visit everything there is to see (it would take no less than three days), so we opt to do an illustrative round, at least to breathe the atmosphere of this little town so famous in the world. The streets of the center are entirely closed off by a large pedestrian zone, and the most used means of getting around (and obviously the cheapest for a student) is the bicycle. They are found everywhere, left calmly on the street even without protection (who would steal it, everyone has one!). The souvenir shops, needless to say, swarm everywhere and offer everything and more for the tourist.

Strolling freely through the crowded and lively streets of the center, we are attracted by the building of the library, one of the most beautiful monuments of Oxford. We only visit the entrance, very evocative, where we learn that the archives contain the beauty of more than five million volumes! Back at the BED & BREAKFAST, which we looked for right after lunch, a bit on the outskirts and definitely more expensive compared to the average of the other English ones, we rest and go out for the night, convinced that on Friday evening the weekend has already begun and we have good chances of certainly finding quite a bit of action. And so it is in part, even though we expected something a little more from a city so full of young people and students. We enter numerous pubs for free, but none inspires us that much, until, at a certain hour, only the discos and the paid nightclubs remain open.

We then return to the BED & BREAKFAST, where we enact another legendary nighttime gem. Since the parking lot of our BED & BREAKFAST is on the corner with a side street and ends at the back, and since there is no sign or at least illuminated plaque indicating it, it is pitch dark and we turn the corner ending up trying to open the wrong door, the one before our BED & BREAKFAST. The keys obviously turn in vain and don't open at all, so after various attempts we begin knocking worriedly (it is one in the morning!). I will always remember the face of the frightened lady who suddenly appears at the glass of the door, without opening, and who shouts: "Next door! Next door!"...

We realize in a split second our beautiful blunder, and run to the door next to it (the right one this time) entering smiling (but it would be better to say laughing to tears) into the BED & BREAKFAST, thinking all in all that certainly we are not the only ones to have made a mistake and that the lady must be more than used to these poor... distracted tourists!

Cambridge

Having left Oxford we reach Cambridge, the last stop of our trip, purposely chosen for its proximity to Stansted airport. The usual back-and-forth for the parking, and scouting of the little town, which appears to my eyes even prettier and more welcoming than Oxford. Probably the average age is lower but for the rest it is all in the style of Oxford: a vast pedestrian zone that makes the walk through the center pleasant, lots of little shops, beautiful monuments and splendid colleges, many bicycles, wonderful green parks and obviously a myriad of young students. Everything creates a beautiful atmosphere, and this too is surely a little town that deserves an in-depth visit of several days to be fully appreciated.

After lunch we look for the BED & BREAKFAST in the streets indicated by our map, bought at the Tourist Office, and we find one at the same price as Oxford, equally a bit on the outskirts. This time the one welcoming us was an Irishman, who when he learned that Carlo lives in Dublin begins a long and nice conversation, and offers us a not-bad room. We dedicate the evening to a bit of shopping, going from the local little market to the numerous shops of the center, having to recover some souvenir that in the rush of our trip we have not yet managed to buy. The last gem is that of a singular character who, to receive the classic little coins as an offering, has the courage to slip into a trash can (the typical English cylindrical ones, black, with two slits on the sides at the top), where he plays the guitar.

The peculiarity of the thing is that at first you hear the music and the voice without understanding where it comes from, until you begin to see half a guitar neck sticking out of the slit of the can and half the face of the poor fellow from the other slit. Quite a few people approach to ask him to come out, but he persists undeterred in singing! Of course one absolutely cannot laugh at these scenes which are in reality rather pitiful, but one cannot deny that at the moment the thing appeared quite funny (also because the character sings and plays well to boot!). At night we go out again in search of some fun pub, and this time we find it almost immediately, much more easily than yesterday in Oxford. There is nice music and calm people, rather refined I would add, and one feels quite good.

After a nice evening we return to the BED & BREAKFAST, without mistaking the door, having to get up tomorrow at 6:00 am to go to the airport.

Return flight London Stansted - Alghero

Having gotten up very early in the morning, we load the suitcases and leave Cambridge for Stansted airport. We arrive in a little more than half an hour of very smooth highway, everything goes smoothly, we return the car, I accompany Carlo to the check-in of his flight to Dublin and we say goodbye having breakfast at the bar with a good hot English tea, briefly summing up the gems of this splendid trip. My flight to Alghero is an hour later, and then the bus to Cagliari also awaits me, a whole day of travel...