England Days One and Two: Brambly Hedge Days

Hello all, and welcome to my north England trip blogs, 2026! On Tuesday, April 28th, I boarded a plane bound for...Atlanta. (Okay, there are no direct flights from Columbus) But from Atlanta I boarded a plane (Virgin Airways...the plane was called Lady Stardust. Isn't that lovely? I always fly to England with Virgin. I love their customer service so much.)

I was lucky enough that my run of the mill economy-class window seat for this flight wound up having no one next to me (it was a two seat section), so I wound up with sort of a poor man's first class situation. With some creative finagling I was able to figure out a few positions that worked for sleeping. Most successfully, laying with my head away from the bulkhead, and my legs tucked into the space between the window seat and the bulkhead. If I didn't have a bad back that makes a lot of positions untenable for long lengths of time, I probably could have slept for the whole flight. As it was, I did get about five hours of light sort of sleep.

Once I arrived at the Manchester airport, I had my first experience with navigating the trains on my own. It's a loooooong walk from the airport baggage area to the Manchester airport train station, especially if the moving walkways are out of service, and your checked bag weighs right about the limit of 50 pounds because you're stowed away about eight half pint jars of homemade blackberry jam for all your friends among your luggage. Phew!

But thankfully there was a lovely older couple there who helped show me the way, and when I got to the ticketing area, an employee was there to help me purchase the ticket.

At Liverpool station, I hired an Uber to drive me the rest of the way to my friend and her wife's flat in the Wirral area. Once hugs were exchanged, luggage temporarily dropped off, and I had a chance to change and freshen up, (travel to England is a loooong sweaty greasy grimy day) my friends took me out to eat at Indigo, a little queer-friendly cafe they frequent often. And there...I had

The.Best.Full.English.Breakfast.I've.Ever.Had.

I have no doubt that the hours of travel helped paint the meal rosier, but I don't know...I really think it would have been the best I've ever had. I'm sure they got tired of me closing my eyes and moaning at each new bite of every new thing. And the chef was willing to do scrambled eggs instead of fried. Since it was afternoon, I was able to guilt-free have my hearty breakfast with a hard cider too. (Also delicious)

My friend's wife had a birthday party to attend, so we dropped her off and went to RSPB Burton Mere, a local nature reserve with BLUEBELLS.

Now, the bluebells were a big part of why I scheduled this vacation for when I did. Of course being in England for Beltane was the other reason. But I really wanted to be there for peak English Bluebell season when I could see them blanketing whole swaths of the forest floor. Spoiler alert: mission accomplished.

Also, I've heard so many things about the aroma of English Bluebells, and how heavenly it is. Because of this, I was expecting to walk out into the woods and practically be punched in the face with aroma. But no...I discovered the smell of the bluebells is an ethereal wafting scent of clean, sweet, delicate spring, sometimes barely smelled, sometimes a little stronger but never overpowering. I can see why people lament that there's no adequate perfume to do it justice. Science, get on that, stat! (But first, alchemize a version of hawthorn blossom that smells accurate too, ok?)

We got some lovely pictures, and laughed over the sign that said "this is a badger path, not for puplic use." And by then, my room at the Bridge Inn was ready. I didn't get many pictures of the inn, I'm afraid. The place itself was beautifully historic, and the room was worn but perfectly adequate for my needs. (Other than a shower that was possessed by Beelzebub, but I managed.)

I had a little bit of time to get unpacked, further destinkify myself from my travels, and drift into a short nap with the gorgeous picture window open and a British robin singing a beautiful song right outside the window. Then my friends picked me back up for a trip to the shore. We ate fish and chips in the car at the beach with the doors open and a breeze blowing through. Then we went to a beach my friend knew was good for beachcombing.

Alas, no hag stones were found that evening, but I did get several wishing stones. A wishing stone is a natural rock with an unbroken line that goes around the whole thing (usually quartz or calcite). I wound up finding enough of these to bring one home for all my coworkers.

My friend also told me it's tradition to stick a hand and a foot in the water, and pick a stone to carry to the other coast and give it to the water on that side. So I did. I chose a stone that *almost* successfully became a wishing stone, and decided to make him special by carrying him to the east coast.

By the time we were done on the beach, it was dark. They drove me back to the inn and after the adrenaline of the whole adventure faded, I slept like a rock. (get it?)

The next morning, I had a while to entertain myself, as my friend had family commitments. I started out the morning by trying out what turned out to be another marvelous cafe, Nettle.

But first I had to take the scenic walk there through the Dell, a beautiful one-block landscaped valley park in Port Sunlight. Basically you step down from a normal rowhouse street into a garden of wonder below street level. It was gorgeous, and I was utterly enchanted. I probably could have spent hours there, and if I was a local and it was beautiful weather, I'd absolutely take a notebook and sketch and write for hours.

While walking through on my way to breakfast, I walked down a path with thick and lush rhododendrons on either side. At almost the end of the row, I glanced into the blooms and saw, three feet away, at the front edge of the bush, a wee British robin staring brazenly back at me. Slowly I lifted my phone to take a picture, thinking he would certainly fly away quickly. But no. We stood there staring at each other for a good minute or so, until I was the one who walked on, not wanting to interrupt his morning too much. This encounter set the joyful and magical tone for my day.

Nettle was a beautiful little cafe and used book shop, with gorgeous and whimsical decor. I ordered an eggy avocado toast and a hot match latte. I didn't even mind the runny yolk the food was so good. I also found a souvenir for my coworker Sheli: a UK edition paperback copy of a Kate Morton book. She and I both love that author.

From Nettle, I went back to the Dell for a little while, because...magical. And then I walked to a bookstore: Paper and Word, the UK's first brick and mortar (ha, I mistyped "mortal") indie fantasy bookshop. It was so fun to browse, but the women there were a little standoffish so I didn't stay long. I did come away with a bookmark that says "probably reading fantasy." A very accurate statement.

A few shops away was a comic store called Kraken Comics. The proprietress, Cathy, knows my local to her friends, and we wound up chatting away for a little while (along with a woman from the states who was there hanging out with Cathy.) I wound up buying the print of the month, a portrait of three tea dragons from the comic book of the same title (a favorite of mine) by a local trans artist. I also got Tom a collage frame with Spider-Man on it. I loved spending some money here and supporting a place that has been a safe haven for my friend.

I still had some time to unalive, so I took what I thought was going to be a shortcut through a park (it wound up being a very much longcut because of train tracks and fences bisecting the spot I needed to go). Eventually I made my way to the Lady Lever, the small art museum with several important Pre-Raphaelite paintings. I went here on my last trip, but they were having an exhibit of the work of May Morris, William's daughter (who was Very Good Friends (tm) with Mary Lobb) who was a remarkable artist in her own right. It was a small exhibit but lovely to see.

As I exited the exhibit area, a group of three older ladies exclaimed over me (I was wearing a flower crown as I so often do!) and said that Millais would have loved to paint me. So sweet. Later as I browsed the collection, another gentleman came up to me and asked if I was local. When I demurred no, he lamented that I would be lovely to paint or draw. Gosh...the Lady Lever is good for my self-confidence! I stopped by the gift shop and bought a gift for another friend (unmentioned, because it has not been given yet!)

After another nap at my hotel, my friends picked me up for a late lunch of a toasty and a smoothie. We went back to their flat and sat outside eating toast with chocolate shreds my friend had sent me from the Netherlands, and mugs of tea. My friend took me to Ness Botanic Gardens in the late evening, where we took a short path around some of the beautiful flowers and chatted. I had a craving for some ice cream, so we went back to the shore and I had my first rum and raisin cone with a flake stuck in the top.

Back at their flat, their neighbor had made empanadas, and I had a couple of delicious ones hot from the oven for dinner. My friend gave me some gifts she had been saving for me, including two incredibly powerful and empowering necklaces made from stone, bone, wood, and feather beads, inspired by Brian and Wendy Froud’s book Trolls. I teared up at the gift.