Glorious England


Well, I finally made it to England.  The weather has been damp and rather cool, but it hasn’t dampened my enthusiasm for exploring.  On Friday, we went for a long stroll from Mom and Dad’s place through fields and hedgerows, down narrow country roads and over the rolling hills. Around every corner, there was some artifact or building with a history that stretched back for centuries. The highlight was this church, complete with ancient gravestones and towering oak trees.  I expected Friar Tuck to step out any minute.

Today (Saturday) we went into London and briefly saw some sights before splitting up.  Mom and sister went to a play, while Dad and I took an extended journey to city’s outer suburbs.  We were searching for the “Monument to the Unknown Scout,” erected to commemorate the good deed that brought the Boy Scout movement to America.  It is at Gilwell Park, a sort of “Philmont” equivalent that was Baden-Powell’s headquarters and today is a scout camp/national office for the organization.  Dad took this photo of me next to a bust of B.P., inscribed with the words “Chief Scout of the World.”

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