Date: Fri, 4 Dec 2009 13:36:15 EST
From: Bwstories8@aol.com
Subject: Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening - book 3, chapters 25 - 26

Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 3 by BW                    
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 25 -- Windsor Castle.                 

**Author's Note:** Please read the disclaimer in Chapter 00 before you read
this.

The next morning we boarded our bus for the trip to Windsor.  The boys all
had their headphones on, enjoying their own individual music, as we rode
out of London and toward the castle that sat along the Thames River.  The
ride wasn't very long and we were soon pulling up in front of a most
impressive sight.

"This looks like the type of castle you see in the movies or read about in
books," Dion gawked.  "It's really incredible."  I think all of us agreed
wholeheartedly with him on that point.

The lower and middle wards of the castle were just the type of images you'd
picture in your mind when you thought of a medieval fortress and I could
tell everyone was thinking similar thoughts.  As we disembarked from the
bus and got ready to move toward the entrance to the castle, the boys began
talking about King Arthur, Robin Hood and others they associated with
castles and this time frame.  Before I knew it, mock swordfights were
breaking out all around me and the boys now saw themselves as knights in
shining armor, battling to defend the codes of chivalry.  As we made the
long walk from the entrance to St. George's Gate, just below the upper
ward, the boys also slew a couple of imaginary dragons, fought off usurpers
to their thrones and defended the honor of young maidens (and young
masters).

As we went along, I informed the boys about the history of the castle.  I
began by telling them that William the Conqueror founded this particular
castle around 1080, as part of a series of fortifications protecting
London.  It was constructed according to typical Norman specifications,
with an artificial mound (motte) with a keep, surrounded by a wooden
fortification.  However, over the years, many of the Kings of England were
attracted to the location because of the excellent hunting in the woods
beyond.

In the late 12th century, Henry II largely rebuilt the castle in stone,
including the Round Tower on top of the motte.  This work was continued and
expanded under Henry III.  During the 14th century, Edward III converted it
into a Gothic palace and the seat of his new Order of the Garter.  In the
15th century, Edward IV had St. George's Chapel and the new Cloisters
built.  Henry VIII had a new gate built into the Lower Ward in the early
16th century and his daughters, Mary I and Elizabeth I, made other changes
to it.

Then in the 17th century, Charles II remodeled it as a Baroque palace and
it stayed that way until the late 18th century when George III commissioned
a Gothic reconstruction of the State Apartments, which was completed by
George IV in the early 19th century.  Queen Victoria made Windsor her
principal palace and ruled the British Empire from within these walls for
over 60 years.  In 1992 a fire ravaged parts of the castle, which were
rebuilt by 1997, so the castle is once again a place of pride for the
British people.

Not only is Windsor the name of the Castle, but during WW I King George V
also changed his German surname to the same as that of his castle, because
of the strong anti- German sentiments of the time.  Hence, King George V,
of the House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, became George V, of the House of
Windsor.  It is now also their last name, so Prince Charles sons are
William Windsor and Henry (Harry) Windsor.

As I was going over this information, our tour took us past the lower side
of the artificial hill, on which sat the Round Tower, and over to the State
Apartments.  Once there, we saw many impressive sights.  There was the
Grand Staircase, flanked by a massive sculpture of George IV and armored
knights on horseback.  We saw Queen Mary's Dolls' House, a massive piece
built in accurate detail, so much so that the little wine bottles even have
vintage wine in them.

"Man, even her dolls could get a buzz," Ricky joked, upon learning that
fact.

After that, we saw the China Museum and the display cases filled with
impressive pieces of china that had been used by the Royal Family over the
years.  In other rooms, we saw magnificent paintings done by some of the
finest masters ever, such as Rubens, Van Dyck, Gainsborough and Rembrandt.
Besides those, we also inspected many sculptures of royalty, studied a
history of weapons on display and viewed various pieces of furniture that
had been used there throughout the castle's history.  The rooms were large,
the ceilings high (and many covered by impressive paintings), the
decorating elaborate and the impression breathtaking.

While touring the State Apartments, we met a man who lived across the river
in Eton.  He had heard us commenting about some of the crests and coats of
arms and then heard the boys asking if there was a coat of arms for the
Curries.  The gentleman politely interrupted our discussion and explained
he owned a shop in Eton, before suggesting we should stop by there later
and he'd help us research that topic.  I thanked him, copied down the name
and address of his shop.  After he walked away, I had to chuckle as the
boys danced with excitement about the possibility of finding something
'regal' having to do with the Currie name.

>From there, we went back outdoors, walking from the upper ward to the
lower ward, with the boys talking excitedly about the things they had seen
during our earlier tour.  From there, we made our way to St. George's
Chapel, to savor a whole new experience.  This is a marvelous Gothic
Cathedral, begun by Edward IV in 1475 and finished by Henry VIII in 1528.
The exterior is defined by massive stone walls dotted by a series of flying
buttresses (like the ribs of some giant beast), lined by row upon row of
windows and defined by numerous stone sculptures.

The interior is filled with elaborate woodwork, splendid stained glass
windows and magnificent vaulted ceilings.  The chapel houses many monuments
to the wealthy and famous throughout the centuries, and is the final
resting places for several monarchs, including Henry VIII, Charles I (who
was executed) and George VI (Elizabeth II's father).

By the time we had seen the chapel and explored its treasures, it was
getting to be late afternoon, so we made our way across the lower ward and
exited through King Henry VIII's gate, in search of a place to eat.  To our
surprise, we found several fast food restaurants nearby and chose to eat at
the Pizza Hut, filling up on pizza, salad and soda.

Now that our stomachs were no longer grumbling, we checked out a few of the
other nearby attractions.  First we took a stroll down Church Street, a
cobblestone street lined with buildings that are several hundred years old,
but Church Street also leads up to one of the castle's gates.  After
walking up and down that thoroughfare, we went to see Windsor's Guildhall,
which was also designed by Sir Christopher Wren, who we learned earlier had
built St. Peter's Cathedral.  It is said that when Wren showed his design
for the Guild Hall to the town elders, they refused to believe that the
ground floor ceiling wouldn't collapse without pillars.  They insisted that
Wren include the pillars in his final design, refusing to let him continue
otherwise.  Reluctantly, Wren put the pillars in, though he left a gap
between the top of the pillars and the ceiling without their knowledge,
thus proving they weren't needed in the first place.

After that, we went on a walking tour of Eton, the small village on the
other side of the Thames, and reached it by walking over the
pedestrian-only bridge.  Eton was filled with many fine shops and other
establishments, most of them catering to the wealthy students enrolled at
Eton College.  Eton College has been THE place to go for many of Britain's
aristocrats, politicians and 'captains of industry'.  We soon found the
shop we were looking for and entered.  The gentleman greeted me shortly
after I came through the door, but looked suspiciously at my family, as
they gathered around me.

"I didn't think you were bringing your whole tour group with you, sir!" he
exclaimed.

"I didn't," I told him.  "I merely brought my family along."

The gentleman eyed the group rather closely, looking from face to face and
then back to me.  "You do have quite an assortment of backgrounds in your
relatives, sir.  Just how would all of you be related then?"  I went on to
give him the short version of our story and then he smiled.

"Jolly good, sir," he offered, while letting down his guard.  "You must be
a truly exceptional person to take on all of this responsibility.  I hope
these young gentlemen appreciate your goodness and your natural children
are bloody proud of what you have done."  There were various nods,
agreements, and other subtle acknowledgements before he moved on to
business.  "Now, I believe you were interested in discovering about
heraldry associated with your surname."

"Yes, we are, sir," I told him.  "The boys were interested in learning if
there was possibly a coat of arms involved, which could be associated to
our ancestral line."

"I'm not sure if you realize this, but coats of arms and crests are
assigned to individuals, not to family groups.  But I would be happy to
help you investigate this and then I could offer you some merchandise
utilizing the designs we've discovered, that is if you are interested in
such things."

"I believe that's what my sons had in mind."

"Brilliant!" he replied, seeing a profit in his future.  "Let us begin with
the search."  He went to a computer behind the counter and brought up a
website.  He then asked me our last name, had me spell it for him and then
entered what I told him.  Before long, he was showing me information
involving our surname.  It seems that the Currie clan lived along the
Scottish-English border.  Being a clan meant that they could put a minimum
of 250 men ahorse within one hour, as well as provide fighting men for
their liege lord and king.  This also meant they must have been quite a
large and fairly well organized group.  The name originated in Midlothian,
the Edinburgh area of Scotland, before 1100.  The name can trace its roots
back to Strathclyde, Briton.

Next, he showed us a coat of arms associated with someone from our line,
Currie of Newby, Scotland.  Before he gave us the explanation about the
coat of arms, he mentioned that the terms of heraldry he was going to use
might sound strange to us, as most of it came from the Old Norman French
terminology.  The blazon (shield shaped format of the coat of arms) was
what they called a chief, meaning there was a band of a different color
across the top.  The shield was in gules (red), with an argent (silver) St.
Andrew's cross (a cross that looked like an X) upon it.  The band at the
top was in sable (black), with an argent (silver) rose in the center,
barbed and seeded in vert (green).

Now, the shop owner went on to explain what all of this meant.  The use of
the chief shield meant dominion, authority, wisdom, and achievement in
battle.  The gules (red) signified a warrior, martyr or military strength.
The argent (silver) signified sincerity and peace, while the St. Andrew's
cross signified resolution and resolve.  The sable (black) band at the top
signified constancy and grief and the argent rose was the symbol of the
second son.  From all of this information, the shopkeeper told us a
possible scenario of how this coat of arms was granted.

"From my knowledge of what the colors, designs and symbols mean, I would
venture this is how this coat of arms was awarded.  The Currie clan must
have been a powerful clan of warriors, always coming to the defense of
their liege lord.  I would venture to guess that the second son of the
leader of that clan lost his life in one such battle, making the ultimate
sacrifice for their cause.  I'm sure the noble whom they were defending
made a petition on their behalf, having someone from his court design this
particular coat of arms to honor the sacrifice the Curries had made.  It
would either have been granted to the second son posthumously or awarded to
his father, in recognition of his son's sacrifice.  It seems to be a noble
reward, which was given to honor the deceased and make his ancestors proud
of his deeds."

We were all smiling broadly as he finished this explanation.  Even though
the majority of those present were not literally of the Currie bloodline,
they were all proud of such an honored and storied past.  Now, the shop
owner went on to explain that the shields the warriors carried into battle
would have had a slightly different design.  The shields would be gules
(red) with a large argent (silver) St. Andrew's cross upon it.  This was
because the coat of arms would only belong to and could be used by the one
so honored, so the shield design would have been carried by his troops.

Then he told us that there would have been one more item of heraldry
involved, the crest.  The crest would have been the symbol worn on the
helmet, representing its owner.  In this case the crest was a gules (red)
cock.  As soon as he made that comment, I looked around at the boys, seeing
the older ones fighting back laughter and comments they wished to make, but
dared not with my older children present.  Ricky's face was bright red, as
he fought to control himself, while Danny's face was all scrunched up,
making him look like he had just swallowed a peck of lemons.  Kevin buried
his head into Dustin's back, trying to keep from laughing, while Dion had
the biggest grin spreading across his face.  The other boys were going
through other contortions, fighting desperately to resist the urges that
were whipping through their minds.

"What would the cock or rooster signify in this case," I asked the shop
owner quickly, trying to distract the boys.

"That would have stood for a fighter, and being in gules, it would have
meant a mighty fighter or warrior."  The boys were slowly regaining control
of themselves.  "And this one would have had its foot resting upon a rose
argent (silver), barbed and seeded vert (green).  This would have meant
that the second son was the mighty warrior."

I thanked our newly met friend for all his help and then asked him what I
needed to do to order a coat of arms or other such things.  He showed me a
wide variety of products he could get for us, so I ordered a large coat of
arms, a shield of the same size, a plaque with the crest and a framed
family history of the Currie name, all to be hung in our foyer at home.  I
also ordered some things for the older children's homes, items that they
selected for themselves, but I paid for everything.  I then asked if he
could deliver all of the items to the company providing our transportation,
so we could collect them at their offices, when I settled my bill before
leaving.  Everyone was excited with all we had discovered and we were
pleased with our selections for our homes.  We left the shop and continued
our foot tour of Eton.

When we had finished our walk, we made our way back to the bus, excited yet
tired from our grueling day.  Many of the boys fell asleep on the ride back
to the hotel and we just ordered from room service later, not wishing to go
out again.

After everyone had finished eating, most of the boys ended up in my room.
I thought I knew what they had on their minds.  "Hey, Dad," Ricky began,
"isn't it fitting that the Currie crest is a cock!"  He barely got the
words out before he started cracking up.

"Yes, as the situation stands now," I agreed, "although I don't think my
daughters or daughter-in-law would like hearing you say that."

"Yeah, watch out for Elizabeth," Pat warned, thinking of her comment the
previous summer, about the Lady of the Lake, "or she just might rip your
cock off."  Everyone broke up and I was just getting them to settle down
again, when my usually quiet Trey spoke up.

"I wonder if it was a large cock represented on the crest?"

"And I wonder if it was a cut or uncut cock?" Brandon teased.

"It doesn't make any difference, although back then nearly everyone was
uncut" Kevin added, "but it was a fighting cock, ready to duel at any
time."  This brought a howl of laughter and I was surprised they all didn't
suddenly whip out their own cocks and begin to duel amongst themselves, but
they were able to manage a minimal degree of control.

"Hey, Dad," Dion added, "do you think some of our ancestors were gay and
that's why they gave them the cock for a crest?"

"Well, I know they weren't all gay, or the Currie clan wouldn't have
survived," I shot back.

"Sure, it would have," Dustin responded.  "They could have adopted great
sons, like you did."  This brought a wave of agreement and left me without
a witty comeback.

"I am glad you boys managed to control yourself in the shop, though," I
offered, thankfully.  "I know that was hard for you to do and I'm not sure
how the shop owner and the others might have reacted if you had carried on
like this there."

"We know," Ricky told me, "but it almost killed us to keep all that in.  We
did do some of it on the bus, on the way back, but we did it so nobody else
could hear.  It was just so funny when he said it, like it was nothing and
there was no other meaning for it."

"Pop, you should have seen these guys while we were walking around," Jay
chimed in.  "They were bursting at the seams, but knew they couldn't let
loose.  It was almost as funny watching them trying to hold back, as it
would have been if they could have done this then."

"I'm sure it must have been quite humorous," I agreed, "but I am glad you
showed some restraint back there."

"But we can still have fun with it later," Cole stated dryly, "as the
reminder and proof of it will be hanging on our wall at home.  I can't wait
to tell all the visitors what they're for."

"Yeah," Jay joined in.  "I think it will be great when you've got a big red
cock hanging on the wall where everyone will see it when they enter your
house."

"Would this make you like a sports team?" Carlos asked innocently.  "Will
you now become the Currie Cocks?"

This brought another roar and everyone seemed to think it would be a very
appropriate title for us, 'the Currie Cocks'.  After everyone settled down
and got this worked out of their systems, they returned to their own rooms
and turned in for the evening.



Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 3 by BW                    
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 26 -- A Few More Day Trips.                 


On Tuesday, we made our way to Stratford Upon Avon, the birthplace of
William Shakespeare.  We took the train for this journey, seeing it was
quite a lengthy trip and I wanted to give our driver the day to himself.
For most of the boys this would be there first experience on a train and
they all seemed quite enthralled by the idea, especially my two grandsons.
I guess Thomas the Tank Engine had left them with a lasting impression and
a love for this mode of transportation.

We boarded the train at the station that was just a short walk from our
hotel, found a place where we could all sit as a group and were soon on our
way.  The boys watched the scenery fly by the windows and were lulled into
a very relaxed state by the rhythmic clickity-clack sounds the wheels made
as they rolled over the spots where the various segments of track were
joined.  I just sat back and watched the boys, enjoying their reactions to
everything that was going on around them.  I did this because I realized
the expressions on their faces would be far more interesting than whatever
scenery I would see by looking out at the countryside.

I was watching my grandsons when Jordan looked in my direction and then got
up and walked toward me.  I wasn't sure what he wanted, but I knew I was
about to find out.

"Why don't people ride trains where we live?" he asked me, in a serious
little boy voice.  "I think they're fun."

"Well, people in and around the large cities often do, but they're called
subways there," I informed him, which brought a look of shock and disbelief
to his face.

"Why do they call them that, instead of trains?" he wanted to know.

"It's because they don't always travel above ground, on the land," I
informed him.  "Sometimes they travel in tunnels underground and that's how
it got the name.  Sub means under or beneath and that's how submarines got
their name, because they go under or beneath the water.  Subway means the
train runs under or beneath something, like a city and city streets."

"Oh, I get it, Papa!" Jordan exclaimed, as it all began to make sense.
"It's a train whose tracks go under the ground.  That's neat."

"Yes, it is," I agreed.  "Years ago trains were the easiest way to travel
long distances, but when roads began to improve, especially with the
interstate highway system, and as more and more people owned their own
cars, it seemed that everyone wanted the freedom to travel when they chose
and not just when the trains were running.  That's why trains have been
disappearing from use over the past fifty or sixty years."

"But Harry Potter still takes the train to Hogwarts," he added.

"Yes, because as you've seen, the British still rely heavily on their
trains," I agreed.  My response seemed to satisfy his curiosity, so he went
back to looking at the areas we were passing by.

When we arrived at our destination, it was as if we had been transported
back in time, to the late 16th or early 17th century.  We were surrounded
by all kinds of historic Tudor buildings and some of them still had
thatched roofs, which were made of straw, hay or long grasses, reminiscent
of the time when they were first built.  As we walked about, we discovered
an old Tudor schoolhouse and went inside.  It was filled with rows of large
wooden desks, which looked quite uncomfortable, but still had a similar
feel to the one room schoolhouse Danny, Brandon, Ricky, Jay and I had
stopped at in Lancaster, PA, on our first vacation together.

After leaving there, we crossed over the medieval stone bridge, while we
also checked out the stone Gild Chapel and the Holy Trinity church.
William Shakespeare, the great writer and poet, once owned Holy Trinity
Church, which he purchased after King Henry VIII confiscated all the
property of the Catholic church.  It now features a monument to him, with a
remarkable tanned likeness.  The monument is fitting, since Shakespeare was
also baptized and is now buried there.

>From there, we moved on to Shakespeare's birthplace, which was completely
furnished with the same types of belongings that would have been there
while he was alive.  A massive, 4-poster canopy bed nearly filled up his
bedroom, but there was also a scattering of other furniture appropriate for
the period.  The walls were covered in brightly painted pieces of cloth,
much like we might find wallpaper used in a room now, and this really gave
us a feel for what life must have been like during that period in history.
It also reminded us how hard and dreary life must have been for the
majority of those living at the time.

Our only disappointment with Stratford was with the Royal Shakespeare
Theater.  It was nice enough, but I guess we were all expecting to see
something similar to the old Globe Theater, where Shakespeare's plays were
first performed.  Instead we found a modern brick building that didn't seem
to fit in with the rest of the community.  We did see a performance of 'A
Midsummer Night's Dream' there and it was quite well done, but I think we
lost some of the feel for what it would have been like to watch it during
Shakespeare's times.  In addition to that, most of the boys had difficulty
understanding what the play was about, due to the archaic speech used and
the unfamiliar British accent, but they did seem to enjoy the various
characters, especially Puck.  Later, once we were alone, I explained the
story to them, which gave them a better impression about what they had
seen, before they agreed they had enjoyed it.

After we were back on the train, Danny approached me with an observation of
his own.  "Dad, I think Puck was gay," he told me, but I wasn't sure if
this was being said tongue- in-cheek.

"He was a fairy," I teased back, in reply.

"Maybe, but it was what he said that made me think that," Danny continued.
"I tried to remember that line, so let me see if I can get it right.  'My
Oberon!  What visions I have seen!  Methought I was enamour'd of an ass.'"
Danny giggled after saying that.  "I'm enamored with an ass too," he added.
"It's Brandon's."  Brandon grinned and playfully punched Danny in the arm.

"And you'd better not be fooling with any others," Brandon shot back, while
also flashing me a smug and satisfied look, which I think meant 'he's my
main squeeze and we're going to be together for a long time.'

On the ride back, the boys spent time exploring the English countryside and
commented on how it wasn't all that different from where we lived, except
the houses seemed to be far older here than in Pennsylvania.  I agreed.
The rolling landscape wasn't that dissimilar; although some areas did
appear much more open than where we lived.

When we arrived back at the hotel, things were a little different than on
our other stays there.  This was going to be our last night in London.
We'd be making one more day trip, but spending the next night far away from
this wonderful city, and then my older children would be departing for
their homes, taking my grandsons with them.  Due to the fact we'd soon be
going our own way, the boys decided we should go out to a nice restaurant
tonight.  They wanted this to serve as a farewell feast to both the city
and to the others who would be leaving us shortly.

I decided to add to the festivities by ordering wine and letting everyone
have up to a glass of it, including those who were underage.  The adults
would be allowed to drink all they (or their spouse) thought they could
handle.  However, before indulging the younger ones to a glass, I decided
to give them a taste first, to see their reaction to it.

"Yuck, that's awful!" Nicky exclaimed, before spitting his small mouthful
back into his glass.

"Papa, can I just have soda instead," Jordan asked, also not enjoying his
sample.

"You can and you may," I replied, without him catching on to my grammar
lesson.

"Me too," Nicky added, before Sammy, Andrew and Graham all indicated they'd
prefer a soda to the wine as well.

During the evening, the boys made sure to let their oldest brothers and
sisters know how much they enjoyed this vacation together, but they really
showered their nephews with attention, letting Jordan and Nicky know how
special they thought they were.  Both boys were aglow from all of this
special recognition and you could tell how much they loved and appreciated
all of their young uncles.  It was a very special dinner and it turned out
to be a sort of private Thanksgiving meal.

My grandsons slept with their uncles that night and the older boys managed
to squeeze everyone into a single room.  They let the younger boys share
the beds, with one grandson in each one and two of their younger uncles,
while the older boys slept on the floor of that room, so they would all be
together for one final night.  It touched me deeply when I went in to wake
them up the next morning, seeing them all so happy and peaceful, and Jordan
and Nicky couldn't wait to tell their parents about the fun they all had
together.  I guess the boys attempted to make it memorable and told their
nephews some stories before they went to sleep.  Not only did they tell
them these stories, but acted them out too, putting on quite a show in the
process.  They must have done a wonderful job, because that was all the
youngest pair could talk about for hours.

After breakfast, we loaded onto the bus and headed west, across the
countryside.  It was really beautiful scenery, driving across gently
rolling grasslands, but as desolate as it appeared, it felt as if we were
driving to the middle of nowhere, which maybe we were.  I was one of the
few who knew where we were heading -- to the Salisbury plain and
Stonehenge.

You all know the image the name Stonehenge conjures up when spoken --
gigantic boulders sticking up out of the earth with capstones extending
between adjoining columns.  I think most of us also picture ancient Druid
priests performing pagan rituals within this circle, but do we really know
what Stonehenge was and what it meant to those ancient peoples?  It is now
believed that Stonehenge was built in stages, between 2800 and 1800 BCE, to
help in the observation of astronomical phenomena, such as the summer and
winter solstices, eclipses and more.  This was not only for religious
purposes, but it helped them decide when to do other things, like when to
plant their crops and then when to harvest them.  Thus, it was a
multi-purpose structure.

"I feel out of place in these clothes here," Kevin told me, as we looked
around.

"Well, just keep them on, because I'm not sure how all of these other
people would react to you being naked," I joked.

"No, not naked!" he shot back.  "I meant I feel as if I should be in a
hooded robe and we should be carrying torches or have them ready to use,
once it gets dark."

"Yeah, this place really feels old," Dustin chimed in, "not just looks it.
It's almost like we should be carrying out some sort of ancient ceremony to
the land or something."

"I almost expect to see a line of priests from some long forgotten religion
popping up and starting to chant or offer up a sacrifice," Pat added.

"Yes, it does have that sort of a feel about it, doesn't it?" I responded,
understanding what each of them was saying.

I took many pictures of the boys while we were there, some while standing
under one of the huge stone arches, showing how small they were in
comparison, or with them sitting on one of the fallen stones, or a long
range shot with the whole family, minus me, standing with Stonehenge
looming behind them.  After that, we learned about some of the theories
concerning how the stones were brought here and arranged, as they are not
natural to the area.  It is assumed these boulders were transported over
long distances, possibly from Wales, before they were erected at the site.
That must have been an enormous undertaking with the primitive technology
of the day, but somehow they managed to pull it off, a truly impressive
feat.

After we saw all that we wanted to there, we boarded the bus and made our
way to our next stop, the Roman-founded city of Bath, then known as Aquae
Sulis.  It was getting late when we arrived there, so we decided to eat,
get our rooms, and rest for the night.  We would start early tomorrow and
go to the various sites, before we dropped off my older children and their
families at the airport.

Thursday morning we awoke early, had a good breakfast and then headed for
our first stop, the Roman baths.  It was what you might expect to see in a
film about ancient Rome, like the scene in Spartacus.  The city was founded
and became popular because of the natural hot springs that fed the baths,
something the ancient Romans adored.

The building was adorned with stone columns supporting the roof of a
covered walkway, which surrounded a large, open pool where the dignitaries
would have bathed.  There were stone benches and other conveniences against
the walls.  These benches would have been used by those frequenting here,
as a place to relax or as a location where they could converse with a
friend.  There were Roman statues to various gods and goddesses about the
area and we got a look at the substructure and learned how the bath would
have operated once it was built.

"Too bad we couldn't have come here and enjoyed the spa like the Romans
did," Michael offered.  "I would have enjoyed sitting in some nicely heated
water right now."

"Michael, you're beginning to sound like an old man," I teased.

"Well, I kind of feel it, after carrying Nicky so much," he answered.  "My
back in killing me."

"Then be smart and let the other, MUCH YOUNGER boys do that for you," I
emphasized.  "You know how they love your son."

"I know, but Nicky was indicating he wanted me to carry him for a while,"
Michael replied.  "I know he loves his uncles, but I think he felt either I
was neglecting him or he was neglecting me at the time."  I just nodded my
understanding, thinking back upon a time when Nicky's father might have
acted in the same manner with me.

After we left the spa, we went on to see the Bath Abbey, a large stone
Gothic sanctuary with elaborate stone carvings on the outer surface.  It
was also adorned with flying buttresses, fan-vaulted ceilings, and the
typical plaques and tombs to the wealthy and famous.  It was not as large
or elaborate as some of the other churches we had seen, but it was still a
very impressive edifice.

When we left the abbey, we took a tour of the rest of the city that had
grown up around the spa.  Over the years, especially during Victorian
times, this was a very popular place to visit and Georgian architecture
covers much of the area.  They were constructed to meet the demands for
elegant living quarters, being made by those favoring this place as a
refuge.  As the city grew up around it, it turned into a very impressive
area and has many impressive structures, including the Georgian-style
Landsdown and Royal Crescents, as well as other magnificently built row
houses.  The outlying area also contains several massive manor houses,
where the aristocrats lived.  As quaint and as lovely as the city was, we
decided to finish our tour and eat, before it was time to take my older
children to catch their flights and say our final good-byes at the airport.

The ride from Bath to Heathrow airport was long and somewhat sad.  We had
all had a good time together, but we were unhappy that our time together
was nearing an end.  The boys made their rounds to say their farewells to
those that were soon to leave us, especially Jordan and Nicky.  Those two
had been with us for so long that it was like they were part of our
immediate family, not just our extended family.  It was quite an emotional
ride, and not just the time we spent on the bus.  Before we reached the
airport, I found Nicky and Jordan coming up to sit with me for the
remainder of the trip, one cuddled against either side of me, thanking me
for the great vacations.

"Papa, thank you for taking me with you to all these great places," Nicky
told me.  "I had a lot of fun with you and all my uncles."

"Me too," Jordan added.  "That mule ride was great and all the neat things
we've seen and places we've visited.  I hope you'll take us with you again,
next year," he added, to plant a seed for the future.

Both of my grandsons then hugged me, followed by an energetic kiss on each
cheek.  Man, I was really going to miss these little rascals.  Needless to
say, I had a few tears in my eyes and a major lump in my throat before we
got off of the bus.

The older boys volunteered to carry the luggage in for those leaving us, so
they didn't have to be bothered with it as they said their good-byes.
After we got all of those leaving checked in for their flights, another
round of hugs and kisses ensued.  It was evident none of us wanted this to
end.  However, it wasn't much longer before they were forced to make their
way to the boarding gate, so they wouldn't miss their flight.  We all waved
at each other, until they had disappeared from sight, and then I herded the
boys back to the bus.

From here, the bus headed south and we would now spend our final week in
England.  This time it was just the boys and I, but I hoped they wouldn't
find this a letdown, after parting from the rest of our family.


E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other 'constructive'
comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com - but please put the
story title in the subject line, so it doesn't get deleted as junk mail.