The Lake District and more poetry.

Trip Start Jul 06, 2010
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Trip End Oct 01, 2010


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Flag of United Kingdom  , Scotland,
Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Day 15 We turned to the north from Chester and took the M6 to travel swiftly thro the industrial north to Grassmere. At this point both Carole and myself succumbed to the cold bug that was working it's way inexorably thro the coach. I spent most of the motorway time fitfully dozing.
Grassmere is a lovely lake district village which is famous for it's association with the poet William Wordsworth and it is where he is buried. Everyone raised in UK will have had Wordsworth's poem
"Daffodils" drummed into them. For the benefit of our American and Antipodean fellow tourists who might not have had this enlightening experience Fearless Leader recited the 1st verse so that they were not too bewildered by the significance of this modest grave.
We were in distance covering mode again and burning up the motorway to Glasgow. We crossed over into Scotland at Gretna Green which the least said the better. Suffice it to say that the romantic notions of young lovers making their wedding vows over the blacksmith's forge have been killed stone dead by crass commercialism.We were greeted by bagpipes being played over the Muzac system which puts a new dimension into the expression "piped music" There was a wedding taking place when when we arrived and in all probability more scheduled later.
I'm sorry if I come across as a bit cynical here it must have been the head cold.
On to Glasgow then where we had the usual introductory drive around the city on arrival. Glasgow is or was a big industrial city and I think that my thick head cold probably stopped me appreciating it.
 
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