Wow.
That’s all I have to say about springtime in England. I’m currently on a train heading north from London Euston to Manchester, to hang with my friend Matt from the Manchester Spartans, to watch Ben Cohen play rugby and to finalize a bunch of details for the Magnitude 15 tournament and ancillary events related to that weekend. (by the way – it’s going to be huge. MASSIVE. legen-waitforit-dary, but I digress.
The ride from London to Manchester via train is smooth, through hill and dale, with some spectacularly verdant hills, dotted with cream colored sheep, Holstein cows and striped with canals and rivers that are timeless. Americans like me never hear about the canals that exist all over the British countryside, fueling the economic growth prior to steam trains and the Industrial Revolution. We hear about the Erie Canal, and the St. Lawrence Seaway, but, man, the intricacy of the planning necessary to achieve these masters of transportation is breathtaking.
Interspersed along the journey are small towns with 200 year old brick homes, Gothic churches, castles, trees and flowers. The pollen is certainly killing me, but, the fruit trees and hills full of heather and wild flowerrs which are just starting to grow and bloom paint these pale white flowers against the background of deep green. It is the month of birth and renewal, with ancient trees and hedgerows. If this is any indication, the bucolic nature of this countryside is something that I’m going to continue to explore. All within a two hour train ride from my house.
Wait until I have a long weekend in Scotland.
Squee!!
American Expat in London 