Our days have been full, long and exhausting. I will try to catch up.

On Wednesday we drove to Oxford, where I spent a month at Jesus College during the summer of 1967. We started at the Ashmolean Museum, with its wonderful collection of Egyptian mummies and funereal accessories and an interesting collection of art. The Pisarro family donated many really good pieces or his work.

We had a nice lunch in an old pub, next to Blackwell’s bookstore, a favorite haunt of mine 57 years ago. We shared Welsh rarebit!

Next, we saw the courtyard of the Bodlean Library, the quad and chapel of All Souls’s College (1438) and the quads and dining hall of Jesus College. It brought back so many memories!

Everything we do takes longer than we anticipate, so we finally learned to make smaller goals for the days. Instead of trying to see Oxford and Blenheim Palace on the same day, (they are 30 minutes from each other), we decided to see the palace on Thursday. Wise choice!

We didn’t get back until almost 6. We had already packed up to go to the carriage house of a friend of Hilary’s, as Paul and Hilary’s youngest son, Simon, daughter-in-law, Emma, and 3-year old granddaughter, Daphne, were there for the night, then Simon and Emma were leaving the next morning for a wedding. We dropped our things off and returned to Paul and Hilary’s for a dinner that didn’t begin until at least 8:30, after they got Daphne to sleep, and didn’t end until long after my bedtime. The simple, elegant meal was out shadowed by the laughter and conversation. Simon and Emma were so personable. They currently live in LA, where Simon essentially manages the lives of billionaires, while Emma works in marketing for Snapchat.

On Thursday we set off for Blenheim Palace, getting there in time for 3 tours, back-to-back—the gardens, the “downstairs” and the palace tour itself.

The volunteer who described the downstairs explained that he was one of 12 children, who had started at the palace at age 10, stoking the main fire all night, then worked his way up to the position of footman, working for the palace till age 58. He told us of the workings of the intricate bell system, the toilet facilities, the complex hierarchy of the downstairs staff, etc.

The palace was built between 1702 and 1722 to commemorate the victory of John Churchill in a battle of Blenheim, Germany. The design and build was overseen by Sara Churchill. John and Sara were the 1st Duke and Duchess of Marlborough. There are many wacky stories, including about Consuela Vanderbilt, wife of the 9th Duke (who was a cousin of Winston Churchill) and of Gladys, the Duke’s second wife, who was a great beauty until she decided she needed a wax implant in her nose and it melted down into her chin. Fun with royalty.

Winston Churchill was born at Blenheim, stayed there often, painting and writing his many books. A copy of one of his school report card suggests he was a less than stellar student, but he did okay for himself in the long run.

We got home in time to have a drink with Paul and Hilary, then Paul and I drove to a nearby store in his 50-year old 2-seater delivery vehicle—an amazing experience!

Paul and Hilary have a business, Blackford Limoncello. They used to make it all themselves, but now have a distillery making and distributing it. This was their “retirement” job that got away from them.

We also got to watch Daphne play in puddles. Such a quintessential childhood activity!

We stayed for dinner, but tried to leave earlier so we could get some rest. We have been running ourselves ragged every day for more than 2 weeks.

Today we continued our marathon sightseeing, driving to Bath to see the Roman baths, the abbey and the largely Georgian town. First we took a 2-1/2 hour tour of the city. Our guide, Michael, was both animated and informative. He showed us the only 3 remaining medieval structures, and explained the Georgian architecture that dominates the city (not my favorite). We saw the Circus and the Royal Crescent, the River Avon, etc. Then we went to the Roman baths, dating from the 1st century AD, and the Bath Abbey. The Roman baths were so touristy and so very crowded that they weren’t very impressive (and the water seemed algae-filled). The Abbey was beautiful, but frankly, I think we are abbeyed out.

The Abbey was literally paved with gravestones, with hundreds of memorial plaques on the walls. One of them really touched me. It was memorializing a woman who died at 36, and it was presented by her friends. It read:

”Her understanding was excellent

Her genius innocently sprightly

Her heart sincere and generous

Her conversation agreeable

Her friendship constant

Her mind and person equally amiable.”

What a loving tribute.

Tonight we took Paul, Hilary and Daphne to the local pub for dinner. It is an unusual pub—very nicely appointed, with excellent Indian food. Good times, and some good pictures.

That’s a wrap.