This realm, this England…

I have a secret.  I believe in fairy tales.  I love a good story…not only is my favorite genre fantasy, but I also prefer happy endings in real life as well.  Does this always work out?  Not so much, but that’s beside the point.  I always hope it will.  A few years ago, well perhaps more than a few, I went on the trip of a young writer’s dream.  I actually got to visit the place where C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien wrote their novels.  I toured the home of Lewis and saw his church and grave.  I sat in an ivy covered “chair” beside a pond where I could see satyrs hiding behind trees.  I went to the pub and had a pint where they shared a meal and perhaps a drink or two.  I strolled past the house where Bram Stoker stayed while writing Dracula.  I frolicked like Puck at Rudyard Kipling’s Jacobean estate.

I saw the statue of Peter Pan and the splendor of Kensington Palace.  I stood where the Battle of Hastings took place in 1066.  Wow.  Leed’s castle, the Tower of London, Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, Regent’s Park, St. Paul’s cathedral, and oh yeah, Jack the Ripper tour…at night.  I saw so much in such a short time there.  I can’t wait to go back one day, and one day I will.  Only the next time, I am expanding my tour to Ireland as well.  I can’t wait to see what that country has in store for me.

“No child but must remember laying his head in the grass, staring into the infinitesimal forest and seeing it grow populous with fairy armies.” ~Robert Louis Stevenson, Essays in The Art of Writing

Comment