May We Sail Across the Seas?

April was a month of bright and sunny weather--the most distinctive and constant summer I've ever seen in Scotland--and May began with equal sunny warmth. Isaac and I took the excuse of a sunny late evening on our last Sunday in Scotland and ran down to the East Sands to build a sandcastle:

Here's Isaac, for size:

On the following Thursday, we had a barbecue on the only rainy evening in the last two weeks of our stay. Much cider was drunk, and we finally burnt up our Christmas tree. Isaac discovered a rock that explodes with the application of heat.

I spent my last two Scotland weeks packing, cleaning, having coffee dates with friends, and trying to write another large chunk of thesis. I now have, in rough draft, just under 50,000 words: I've passed the halfway point. In the middle of all this bustle, we took a morning off to visit the Farmer's Market and eat the delicious smoked fish available there:

We left England on a gloriously sunny day, sailing down the English channel as we passed small towns, long piers, other boats, and beautiful green trees:

We spent six days in a shroud of fog:

And we arrived in New York in a blessed pouring rain that somewhat managed to alleviate, if temporarily, the wretched humidity that has plagued us ever since the boat docked. Here's another boat in the rain at dawn:

Now, every day, I visit the building pictured below, in which are contained manifold delights: manuscripts, early printed books, and a few dozen texts I've needed to read for quite some while.

My research is going well, Isaac is meeting today about a volunteering opportunity in the neighbourhood in which we're staying, and we're both enjoying certain aspects of Americaland. Our plans for next year are still very much uncertain, but we'll keep you posted should that change.

Whan that Aprille forgotte hys showers

Despite the fact that I was away from St Andrews for the first ten days of April, I think it's still fair to say that this past April has been the occasion of the loveliest consistent weather I've ever seen in this fine town. In the past three weeks, it may have rained twice (and misted a few mornings and evenings). We've had some glorious morning mists but generally just an abundance of sun and a great old blossoming of flowers. Of course, the glorious weather has also provided my life with a terrific excuse to get complicated and busy, so I've been indoors a great deal.

When last I blogged, I was researching happily in the British Library. My friend R. very generously allowed me to stay with her, which was lovely. I read several wonderful books and even had a few opportunities to relax amid the bustle of research. On mornings when I arrived at the British Library before it opened, I had the distinct pleasure of sipping a cup of coffee, eating a pastry, and reading the free London Metro newspaper.

When the great British Library proved insufficient, I was able to take a journey to the lovely old Westminster Abbey, whose archives hold one of the manuscripts that will figure prominently in the eventual first chapter of my thesis. Because the Abbey has featured so prominently in the news lately, here's a photo of the main visitor doors (which I didn't use on this trip, as they are for paying guests only).

Because all my libraries were closed on Sunday, and because it was Mother's Day in the UK, and because R. is my academic daughter via a long and complex process that took place during my M.Litt year, she and I had a day out on the Sunday to do something new, exciting, and (in the eyes of every British person to whom I've relayed this since then) completely mad. We rose at the crack of dawn, took the train to lovely Dover (of White Cliffs fame), and then took the ferry to Calais, France (my first chance to set foot in that country).

Unbeknownst to R. and I, Calais is shut down tight on a Sunday, so we amused ourselves by walking around and discussing architecture, getting lost, buying wine and cheese, drinking cocktails in a shrine to a French singer (possibly Dalida), and eating French delicacies such as un eclair and a "panini," as the sandwich is mistakenly called in Britain and France alike.

After our French adventure, I made my way to Nottingham, a large central town near both Birmingham and Kegworth. Nottingham was notable for its water and lovely scenery, and had perhaps the best restaurant I've eaten at in a very long time.
Here's a graveyard:

And here my new favourite restaurant. Should you ever be in Nottingham, eat here:

After two days in Nottingham, and for no particular reason save convenience of travel, I spent an unfortunate night in York (a city I love, in a bed and breakfast to which I shall never return). On my morning in York, I finally had a chance to walk along the city walls (an experience forbidden during our first trip to York, when the wall path around the city was icy).

I subsequently took a train further North, where after two very long weeks away I met my husband in lovely Durham, where we spent two weeks in the Norman wing (named after the 11th century civilisation, rather than an individual of the same name) of a very old castle.
The view from our room:

Since we returned to our little ancient town, things have been a bit less exciting. I've written another substantial chunk of eventual thesis, Isaac has finished work for the Chemistry department, and we've spent most of our free time trying to soak up sunshine, culture, and views of the beautiful sea.
We attended a ball:

We sipped (local-brewed) cider on the beach:

We celebrated the Resurrection looking out over the North Site in the ruins of a church in which people have been celebrating Easter for more than a thousand years:

And we revisited the Rock and Spindle (as ever) to enjoy the lovely sea and one of our favourite places on earth:

May thus far has been busy and a little hectic, but the beautiful weather has continued, and I love Scotland more than ever, if that's possible.