Here are some things that only ever happen in England.
1. Master thatchers.
(Photo of The Red Lion Pub in the village of Avebury which claims to be the only pub in the world enclosed by a stone circle … and Europe’s largest stone circle at that)
2, Gentlemen operating heavy equipment dressed in a classy suit-jacket & cap.
(Photo taken in Camden Town, London)
3. An eccentric gentlemen named Alistair who picks your colonial cousin accent out of the crowd and takes you on a random, whirlwind tour/pub-crawl of Exeter.
(Photos taken in front of Exeter‘s main square & cathedral)
4. Taking Copious amounts of self-timer portraits in churches & cathedrals.
Sometimes when all you’ve been photographing for months are music related subjects you go for a stroll up Primrose Hill in London, England and find yourself uncontrollably & ravenously stalking cute old men, children, and puppies with your camera.
Holy Hamburg, where did you come from and when can I see you again!? We only spent 24 hours together, but they were probably the most random and surprisingly wonderful hours of the entire adventure in Euroland.
Evidence of this claim as shown by, but not limited to, the following 3 facts and 15 photos:
After putting out last-minute pleas through phones, Facebook, and Couchsurfing our homeless selves were welcomed into the home of a friend of a total stranger … who turned out to be a match made in random friend heaven.
We arrived in Hamburg to discover the city buzzing with its first spring day and randomly parked Sharan (our VW minivan) next to the inaugural outdoor dance-party of the year thrown in a squatted yard beneath a section of railway tracks in The Schanze.
The Quincy crew played at one of those rare I’ve-never-seen-anything-like-it-before! venues. The itsy bitsy teeny weeny Mobile Blues Club is a 12m x 2.5 m mobile cart that is parked on the edge of a busy street in the middle of the city and has been transformed into a warm hub of music by the wonderful Thorsten Fixemer.
There was something so impressive about the Lincoln Cathedral (in Lincoln, UK) that my normal cathedral numbness was replaced by the serious intention of going to church the next morning to hear what a religious service and a real, live choir sounded like in such an epic building.
Alas, I forgot how early church starts and I instead joined the church-goers for post-service coffee (at quite possibly the only decent coffee joint in the entire country – Coffee Aroma).
Behold a small series of photos that upon first gaze may appear like your standard Brighton beach shots … but upon closer inspection may reveal such mysteries as a couple making out way over yonder in the rain dusk, a flock of feathered soldiers about to descend upon the ice cream licking pier-goers, or Mister Quincy and his right-hand lady Righty getting undressed and re-dressed during a hard day’s photoshoot (to learn more about Mister Quincy click here).
The land where fries are called chips, chips are called crisps, panties are called pants, and pants are called trousers.
It’s been a whirlwind week … 7 gigs, 4 radio shows, 1 malfunctioning rental car, 1 violent roadside vomit, 2 colds, too little sleep, too many pints, and heaps of wonderful folks. Needless to say, this is the first time I’ve had half a moment to open ye olde laptop for some good old fashioned phlogging.
I have lots to catch up on, so I figured the best way to start would be with a series of random photos from our first week across the pond (on Miss Quincy‘s 2011 UK/Euro Tour, that is).
Zafira
Behold the aforementioned malfunctioning rental car. Zafira was with us for less than a day before her inner computer decided to go bonkers and make the throttle stick while on the Motorway into Glasgow during rush hour. RIP Zafira, nice getting acquainted with driving on the left side of the road with you.
Hats Meet Sharan
The Ponto and Quincy hats riding through a jolly gorgeous day in England on the dashboard of Sharan – our trusty new minivan-esque upgrade from Zafira the feisty mental machine.
Cruising Through Cumbria
Taking a wee roadside wee stop on the rainy, yet still gorgeous road through Cumbria.
Cheeseheads
One of my greatest gripes about living in Canada is the exorbitant cost of many of the things I enjoy most in life – like wine and cheese. So, instead of going without I just go to Europe once a year. In the photo below you’ll find a mouthwatering feast of Wensleydale with Cranberry (£1.39), Organic Cumberland Smoked Cheddar (£1.45 at 50% off = £0.72), Cornish Yarg (£2.05), and Cumberland Smoked (£2.38).
Ribble Valley
Looking surprisingly much less haggard than we actually are during a countryside cruise through Ribble Valley.
Beer
I have acquired far more photos of beer than is probably healthy for one’s collection in the past week, thanks in part to other JP’s mission to try (and blog about) as many different beers as she can. Here is just a teaser photo.
Ladies & gentlemen, welcome to most magical pub in the Universe – The Bassetts Arms.
It’s a pub that has a top secret location, a pub where the beer flows free, both in quantity & cost, and a pub that never has a closed sign on its door.
Behind the scenes at the Patriots Motorcycle Club in Crumlin, Wales. Also known as the night we woke up to discover a man named Digga bunked down with us.
(Photo taken in Camden Town, London) 
