Stonehenge

We set off for the Oxford train station at 8 in the morning. It took two changes, one at Reading and one at Basingstoke, to get us to bustling little Salisbury, where we caught a bus out to Stonehenge.

The surrounding countryside is astounding-- golden fields stretching out as far as the eye can see-- and with the added bonus of a gloomy sky and a light drizzle, we could not have asked for a better setting for our Stonehenge experience.

Really, there's not that much to actually DO at Stonehenge, besides walk around taking pictures of it, and of you, and of you and it, and of you and it and friends, and buying stuffed sheep in the gift shop. There was an audio guide-- all I can say of it is that it took an astounding load of time to explain how little we know.



After exploring this site as closely as we could ever wish to, we returned to Salisbury. Again, because the town has nothing to do with Austen, I had little knowledge of the area. I hadn't even considered it beforehand, except as a means to achieving Stonehenge. 

The city is beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. Quaint and blooming and sweet.
We toured Salisbury Cathedral, which is famous for its exhibit of an original manuscript of the Magna Carta. That turned out to be vaguely disappointing-- being in scripted Latin-- and there was a woman who refused to budge from the case. I patiently waited behind her for at least ten minutes; I have no idea what she was doing-- for all intents and purposes, she must have been translating. They have microfilms for that sort of thing.

The Cathedral itself was not at all a disappointment; it is... is... well, words fail. Its spire is leaning, however, that's not just my amateur photography skills showing through.
Do you see what I mean? The Cathedral is beautiful. It puts Notre Dame to shame, given this cathedral has no hunchback to haunt its history.
We had an afternoon tea in Salisbury, because this is a town made for afternoon tea if ever there was one.