South Somerset District

Newly invigorated by my brand new camera charger with a USB cable which allows me to CHARGE it in the CAR, we headed down toward Wayford to visit St. Michael's Church where Will's parents were married. The first record of the church was in the 13th century, so it is at least 750 years old. It's been around so long that the center aisle is worn down in the middle from centuries of churchgoers walking on it. I tired to take a picture of it while Will was outside, but he walked back in to find me on the floor, and all I have to show for it was a dark, awkwardly angled shot of the stones. I probably won't include that in my exhibit.

I've heard quite a bit about this church, so I expected it to be old and beautiful. What I did not expect was how small it was. There were only two rows of about 12 pews. A total of about 24 in the whole place. It makes sense that such a small village wouldn't need a huge church, but it surprised me all the same. At one end of the church is a beautiful stained glass window, and at the opposite end is an octagonal font from the 14th (?) century. I wish that I knew more about the church, but for something that's been around for so long, it's surprisingly difficult to find information on.

Inside the church is a listing of the different gravesites on church ground. The very last name on the list is a Vickery whom William had never heard of. We decided to try to find him. So we walked out of the church, past the old telephone booth that has been converted to a miniature library, and to the end of the road outside of the church. Or it may have been an alley. It's actually very hard to tell the difference. Or they just don't have alleys here. In any case, we did not locate the mysterious Vickery. What we DID locate was a pair of furry pigs. I did not even know those existed but I can honestly say that my life has changed for the better. The first pig we encountered was munching on some grass up the hill from the road. At first he ignored us, but Will started oinking at him, because he is William, and the pig started to venture a little bit closer. We actually thought for a moment that he was oinking back, but then we realized that there was a second pig off to the side who was off in piggy dreamland. He was grunting and snorting just like dogs do when they dream. If my suitcase were not already dangerously close to the weight limit, Charlie may have found himself with a new sibling upon my return. Sadly, it was not to be.

Let's circle back to the road/alley debacle for a moment. Before leaving on our trip, we discussed my helping with the driving. I was very hesitant because of the exciting combination of standard transmission and driving on the wrong side of the road. I explained this to Will, and said that I could probably drive around town but felt very uncomfortable driving on the highway. He had two bits of feedback there. First, it's called a motorway (imagine me sarcastically waving my hands here). Second, if I were to drive anywhere, I should drive on the motorways and leave the shorter trips to him. That seemed very counterintuitive to me. Everyone knows that you learn to drive in a parking lot, not on a freeway. Excuse me, MOTORway. I did not consider that many of the towns we would be driving through were laid out before America, let alone the advent of motor vehicles. There is no traditional grid pattern. You know that scene in Indiana Jones where he's stuck in a pit of snakes? Really picture those snakes. Imagine you're looking down on them from above. That's the road map for the west country.

It's generally enjoyable to be a passenger on those trips. You start out in a little town, a quiet village, if you will. I would imagine that every day in said villages is like the one before. These little towns are filled with little people. Sorry, I'm done. You start in a small town and as you leave the town you enter what is essentially a winding maze. Tiny roads that are barely wide enough for one car, let alone two. There are hedges right along the roadside that are sometimes eight feet tall, which limits maneuverability. This is to help separate the surrounding farms from the road and from each other. I can see how it makes sense; they're fences that largely maintain themselves that won't be damaged if someone goes careening off the road, which seems very likely. There are just a few complications that arise. Visibility in these hedge mazes is very low. The road twists and turns so much that you can often only see 50 feet in front of you. So it's difficult to see whether your turn is coming up until you've nearly (or fully) passed it. When you combine this lack of visibility with the narrow road, you run into a second problem. These are two-way streets. Seeing the issue yet? You can come around a turn and find yourself nose to nose with another car and no room to go around each other. I haven't experienced this exact phenomenon yet. So far, anytime we've rounded a corner to meet another car, they have been far enough away that one of us has a place to pull off the road to allow the other to pass. There are small alcoves, about the size of half of a hatchback, that allow just enough room for one car to duck in and allow another car to squeeze past. Apparently, in situations where two cars meet and there is no alcove between them, one car must reverse back up the road until they reach one.These roads are called B roads, and they are to be respected. I initially said they should be feared, but apparently they can smell that. So, no, I do not want to drive on the B roads.

I also do not want to drive on the A roads, to be honest. I think I've seen three traffic lights since leaving Texas. They just don't really have them here. You know what they do have? Roundabouts. I can do a roundabout passably on a good day, with an automatic transmission, on the right (in every sense) side of the road, in a city for which I have a preexisting mental map. The roundabouts here check literally none of those boxes. I still look the wrong way when reaching an intersection. I've attempted to get in on the wrong side of the car three times now. Today, we passed a car with a dog in the passenger seat and I truly thought for moment that the dog was driving., I absolutely should not be trusted behind the wheel. I'm a public menace. Someone, please explain this to my chauffeur...er, boyfriend.Read more