Kilt

Back in Edinburgh just before we headed out to our final dinner together, I walked down to the hotel lobby to meet the group.  Josh had gone down a few minutes before, and as the elevator doors opened I was met with quite a commotion.  A handful of the kids had Josh cornered, and when I peeked over the crowd I caught this quick glimpse.

They had somehow coerced him into wearing a kilt ;-)  Not just any kilt...no... a special one they'd purchased specifically for him, in Georgia Bulldog football colors no less!  I cracked up when I saw his face flushed 4 shades of red.  (He embarrasses so easy ;-)

Check out this shot.  You can totally read the look on his face!  And his body language...

I thought he was being terribly dramatic.  I mean, c'mon, half the group was wearing them already and some of the guys were not sporting jeans underneath, but full on Scottish-style knee high wool socks!  I've learned over the years that teenagers will do just aboutanything.

It was so fun.  And although Josh refused to wear his kilt across town to dinner like everyone else, he did promise to sport it during Georgia games this fall.  (posting pics for proof)  

Makes sense to me wearing a kilt to dinner in a country where men in skirts is normal and expected would be the better option.  Can't imagine beer-guzzling, football fanatics in the deep South to offer grace on this one.  In the States a man in a skirt is certainly viewed a number of ways, one of which not being cultural celebration and sensitivity.

All I can say is I tried to tell him... because I will be making sure he makes good on his promise.

St. Andrews

A tiny town perched on the cliffs above the North Sea, St. Andrews is world renowned for two things: it's ancient university (where Prince William and Kate Middleton met) and golf.  I found the bit about the royal couple fascinating, imagining them walking the same streets and sidewalks we were, gazing out at the same misty sea. As to the golf part I'm admittedly not much of a fan, but Josh rattled on and on about the 'Old Course' which is apparently the holy grail of golfers the world over.  And I guess they also dictate the rules of golf for like, everyone.  In other words it's a really big deal in the sports world, so I took a photo. ;-)

Both the course and town of St. Andrews itself literally sit right on the water.  It's beautiful.

We took a stroll along the water before stopping to nosh on a picnic lunch we'd picked up at an organic market before leaving Edinburgh, sipped a shared cappuccino in the back corner of a packed coffee shop, then set out to explore the ruins of St. Andrews lost cathedral.  I was anticipating wandering around the remnants of this ancient church.  Somewhere on these grounds lie the actual ruins of Andrew the apostle, as in Andrew the apostle of Jesus.  Fascinating.  

Upon first laying my eyes on it, I had to catch my breath.  With the heavy mist hovering like a cloak, it's simply stunning.

You can imagine how gorgeous it must of been centuries ago.  Once upon a time it was not only the largest cathedral, but the largest building in all of Scotland.

Like everything else in the tiny town, the cathedral also sits at the edge of the sea.  I found it both romantic and haunting... stirring.

It awed me...the history, the remains of the structure itself, the fact that the apostle Andrew is laid to rest here.  Amazing.

I snapped one last shot of Josh at the Old Course while waiting for our group to return.  From golf, to the royal couple, to the Scottish Reformation and ancient Biblical history...my heart was full of thought-provoking complexities.  No time to wade thru all of that yet though, we had a group to get packed up and to the airport early the next morning...

...but before we did, our group had one last surprise for us ;-) 

Stirling

An early morning drive to Stirling, Scotland was met with a leisurely roam about the castle.  Josh and I sent our group off to explore before grabbing a coffee to warm our own meander around the mist covered grounds.

 Take a little walk with us??

With preparations to honor the Queen's birthday in the works, our foggy scenic walk was filled with the music of warming drummers and bagpipes.  Thanks, Stirling.  Nice touch!

Up next, St. Andrews...

Grasmere

Following a very brief stop in Oxford and evening rest in Manchester, we set off for England's breathtaking Lake District.  Our specific destination was Grasmere, a tiny village so picturesque you sincerely feel as if you're meandering about in the pages of a storybook, the smell of baking gingerbread literally filling the air.

So lovely.

A perfect mountain stream, sheep grazing in the distance.

Stone fences, springtime pastures, a tiny glimpse of the lake.

Crystal clear waters.

Beautiful mountain backdrops.

Moss covered walls to escort you along the paths.

I'm fairly certain these are the happiest geese in all the world.

Daffodils dancing in the distance.

To think, someone actually lives in that hillside house...

...and this is proof.  Someone's knickers drying on the line ;-)  

Taking it all in.  Well, trying to anyway.

Coffee and gingerbread?  Check!  Quiet village walk?  Check!  Photo by the stream?  Check!

And we're off!  One more time...

Bath

On the long journey from London, England to Edinburgh, Scotland, we made a few stops... starting with the beautiful little town of Bath.  The name itself immediately conjures up thoughts of ancient Romans soaking in steaming springs or Jane Austen feverishly writing from a quiet window overlooking the green.  Today you'll still find the essence of those things of course, but I find that even without the history, Bath is truly a breathtaking destination.

After a brief walking tour with our group we sent them off to explore and set out for a quiet stroll of our own.  Walking thru the gardens we came upon these four, immediately capturing my heart.  Piled on a bench tucked away in a corner they chatted and laughed and gnawed on sandwiches.  I couldn't help but love them instantly.  As we approached I wondered who they were, their connection and history, their unique stories.  The thought of stopping to pepper them with questions was appealing, but rather I smiled, "Ladies, you're too cute sitting here with your sandwiches!  Would you mind terribly if I took your photo?"  Of course they didn't.  They were too happy to mind.  They giggled and swallowed, sitting up straighter to pose.

Further down the walk sat another quiet bench, a splendid pink its backdrop.  Notice the carpet of blossoms beneath the tree.

Beautiful, yes??

They were blooming all over the UK, a type of flowering cherry tree I believe, and oh how I loved them...

 When the wind would blow a shower of delicate petals would rain down from the limbs, living poetry before your eyes.  But better still, when you stood beneath and looked up into the branches...

...hundreds of perfect, complete bouquets dangled above your head.  God is such a show-off ;-)

We grabbed a quick bite in a tiny locally-sourced cafe, and stopped to gaze one last moment at Bath in all her springtime splendor.

Ah, Bath, we'll see you again soon...

Until then!

London

This city has occupied a place in my heart for quite a few years now.  It isn't necessarily my favorite European city, but it is the one I know best, the one that feels most familiar to me.  And I love that.  It's such a strange but welcome feeling to feel so at home in such a foreign place.

Leading a tour however, dramatically changes things.  Always an artist at heart, it can be terribly difficult for me to explore a city like London without feeling absolutely compelled to do nothing more than stare up at the sky and ancient architecture, stop to gawk at curious street performers, and wander into random bookstores and cafes at will. It's like flipping a switch and turning off the truest part of myself, determinedly forcing focus. But it's good for me. Artistic personalities need boundaries, you see.  Otherwise we'd never actually accomplish much of anything.  We'd just joyfully wander about in awe of creation.  

But leading a tour is about one thing, and one thing only: serving.  

You're there to serve this amazing group of people with combined personalities vast as the ocean, to introduce them to a new and different culture, to point out the beautiful and the broken they're likely too excited and sleep-deprived to notice otherwise.  You're there to try and answer their questions, lead them from point A to point B, make sure they eat, and cram more into each day than seems possible.  You do a lot of problem solving and pretending like you're absolutely calm and confident when you're far from it, and you never under any circumstance let them see the constant craziness you're frantically sorting out while they laugh and chat and sip steaming lattes.  You don't sleep much, you try to eat on occasion, and you pray.  A lot.  In fact sometimes you downright beg for help from heaven because you find yourself in positions you cannot sort our on your own.  And to top it all off, you try to make each individual person with their unique preferences and travel styles, their own intentions and desires for this trip...happy.  Imagine that, trying to make 26 unique individuals happy in a foreign city on super-tight schedule.  Not a simple task, but it's the one you sign up for, and you make it your priority every single day knowing from the get-go how close to impossible it is.  

It's far from easy.  It's oh-so-difficult.  Butit's an honor.  

And aside from my endlessly-wandering-about-enamored-with-life-let's-just-stop-and-savor-this-moment-mentality...I also have to battle all of my personal concerns:  How will I get enough sleep?  How will I function when I know I won't sleep?  How will I avoid gluten?  How will I eat if there's nothing gluten-free?  How will I function if I'm not eating?  How will I function if I'm not eating or sleeping?  How will I lead a group of strangers through a hectic city when I've not eaten or rested? When will I shower?  Will I shower?  How will I get thru the tube system without losing half my group when I haven't eaten or slept or showered?  How will I...how will I...how will I...  You see how concerning this can be ;-)

So in advance, you choose to surrender.  For days leading up to my departure date I meditate on a single promise: He will perfect that which concerns me.  He will perfect everything that concerns me.  Psalm 138  (In other words, red berries.  As always, they'll find me.)

I was reminded of this truth over and over from the moment I boarded my plane to delightfully find I had two seats all to myself and would actually get to sleep on the dreaded transatlantic flight... He will perfect that which concerns me.

When catching a cab to my hotel, concerned I didn't have enough cash to pay the driver, watching the meter creep higher and higher still miles from the hotel I finally asked him to drop me saying I'd walk the rest, to which he replied, "You're nice.  I appreciate nice people.  I'll drop you at the door, no worries." He will perfect that which concerns me.

When I couldn't check in because my room wouldn't be ready for several hours and there was no luggage room to store my belongings, suddenly the maid walked by and announced she'd clean my room next if I'd like... He will perfect that which concerns me.

When I was entirely too exhausted to catch the tube to Whole Foods to pick up a few groceries, I round the corner mere steps from my hotel and stumble upon the most beautiful organic market, shelves bursting with gluten-free goodies... He will perfect that which concerns me.

When a creepy Italian guy started following me and I couldn't get rid of him for anything until suddenly a look of horror crossed his face and he violently took off as if on fire, as if angelic beings had just appeared flanking me on either side... He will perfect that which concerns me.

At every turn, at every simple and sometimes grave concern, He met me.  And because of His care and provision for the simple things that matter so greatly to me, I was able to shelf my own concerns and focus solely on my group.

So back to that...

In a matter of three days we saw Big Ben, parliament, Westminster Abbey.  We strolled St. James park, Buckingham Palace, milled about at Trafalgar Square.  We listened to violins and cellos at St. Martins in the field, gawked at a few paintings at the National Gallery.  We rode a boat down the Thames in morning sun, explored the Tower of London, St. Paul's Cathedral, Shakespear's Globe Theatre, Millennium Bridge and the London Eye.  We walked the historic East End, browsed the stalls at Spitalfield's market, worshipped together at Hillsong, and listened to a wonderful man share his heart concerning the homeless of the city.  And every evening we shared meals and devotions, crawled into bed entirely exhausted, and prayed fervently that our alarms wouldn't fail us in the a.m.  

It was glorious.

There's entirely too much to share in a single post, so today I wanted simply to introduce you to my darling group and let you know that over the next few days I'll be sharing photos and tidbits of this and that from England to Scotland and everywhere in between.  Bath, Oxford, Grasmere and the Lake District, Stirling, St. Andrews...  The music of bagpipes, sweet moments of realization, trying not to fall asleep on the coach, and the best gluten-free pizza I've ever tasted...  Farm to table restaurants and markets, a delightful vinegar tasting, the most perfect coffee shop in existence, the most perfect thrift shop in existence...  Weird encounters, a blissful meeting of souls, converted cathedrals, and even Josh in a kilt...  ;-)

Stay tuned my friends, there's much to come.