Speaking of England, it's currently #hateEnglandWeek on twitter and the trend is pretty funny, with tweets like (I didn't include the hashtag on all of these, but for the non-twitterers out there, the tags just link all the comments together on one page so you can read through what people are saying about one topic):
"They might have invented the serial killer, we perfected it. #JacktheRipper #HateEnglandWeek"
"The only kind of chips I want with my fish are Doritos."
"It took an American to play an interesting Sherlock Holmes. "
"You had to have 6 different James Bonds. We've only had one Chuck Norris. "
"... spice girls ruined my sixth grade year."
"Big Ben isn't even that big"
"Tea time is stupid."
You get the idea... However base and silly these may be, I've definitely giggled and am appreciating the rivalries developing around the World Cup.
I guess posting about what a great time we had during England sort of goes against the whole "Hating England" thing, but I've got time to blog and gall darn it, I'm going to do it. BUT I am still rooting for the good ol' US of A on Saturday, even Taryn is!
Soooo England... riiiight... since it took me a ridiculous time to even post about two days and an even longer time to get around to the remaining 4-5, I give you a pictorial journey through our trip accompanied by a few captions:
(This is where the "original" American's sailed from, you know, Plymouth Rock! Taryn and Tom live in this lovely city.)
A bird pooped on Sir Francis Drake's head... no respect...
We headed to a small village with thatched cottages to solve a mystery... the village of Cockington! Hahahahahaha. Yes, we are immature.
Proper tea time in Torquay.
That's Devonshire Cream and it is AMAZING. We now have some in our fridge to relive moments like these:
Priceless! Such a good looking couple.
We had the pleasure of running some fabulous trails in Plymouth, awesome trails:
Stretching for your health!
There was a dog or two along the trails, we had to stop to observe.
When you run in England there are really old bridges and ruins around you. Cool!
Our final meal in Plymouth was good ole Fish 'n Chips with a Bitter Shandy.
This particular brand was nasty, but lemonade and beer is not a bad idea, like a suped-up Arnold Palmer.
Then we headed back to London where we welcomed into my uncle's flat for our last evening. His wonderful driver, Colin, picked us up from the train station, showed us around my uncle's neighborhood of Chelsea and took us to the airport the following day. We promised him a pint upon our return to England, he more than deserves it!
Et voila! L'Angleterre!
NOW, GO USA!!!! USA! USA! USA! USA!