Last Days of London

A few months ago, when we booked our trip to France, Derek and I knew we would need a little bit of rest before we took Henry across the world back to Utah. So, we found a hotel in London for a few days, just a block or two from Hyde Park. It was a great decision; we had such a wonderful time.

Our first day, we spent almost the entire time in Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. We went to the Princess Diana Memorial Playground by Kensington Palace, first. It's Peter Pan themed, with all sorts of fun things like a Pirate Ship, TeePees, fun musical instruments for the kids. Henry LOVED it. He probably would have stayed there all day if we had let him. He ran around the tee pees collecting sticks and playing hide and seek, then he and I played with the musical instruments for a while. We also found a really fun spinning thing that he and Derek played on for a while (not me! I get too dizzy). His favorite part, though, was playing in the sand by the pirate ship.

For lunch, we walked down to Notting Hill Gate and ate at Nandos. Mmm, so good. Henry loves Nandos. The chicken, the chips, and the corn on the cob--so yummy. Especially because he can dip all of those in ketchup.

After lunch, we went back to the hotel and had naps. That was really nice, actually. To actually feel really rested after such a busy time in France.

When we woke up, we headed back in to Hyde Park to the Serpentine. I've always wanted to get a paddle boat and paddle across the long water, so we did! Henry wasn't too sure about the life jacket he had to wear, but once we got on the water he was happy. He pointed at all the birds, enjoyed some snacks, and tried to help paddle.

That night, we walked all the way from Paddington down to Charing Cross for dinner at Pizza Express. I'm sure there was one closer, but we decided the walk would be nice and it wasn't too far. Ok, over 2 miles one way, but we walked through Hyde Park, Green Park, down the Mall, and in to Trafalgar Square. Basically one of my favorite walks in all of London! Henry enjoyed it, anyway. Unfortunately, he did eat a whole bunch of Tic-tacs along the way and wasn't super keen on eating his pizza. Very unlike him! But that's all right, it was a lovely evening.





Our second day, we walked down through the parks again, but this time to Westminster. On our way, we spotted the Royal Horse Guards!

But our real destination: the London Eye! We decided to do it again as our little farewell to London, and I'm so pleased we did. Henry had SO much fun, running about and pointing at things. I think it might be harder each time I say good bye to England, especially London, really. The Eye gave us a chance to look out and talk about all the fun things we've been able to do in the last year in this fantastic city. All the while Henry was safe, happy, and running about.

We walked down Whitehall to eat lunch at Trafalgar Square. We sat on the steps just in front of the National Gallery and had Cornish Pasties, while Henry had McDonald's. Silly boy--he spotted the golden arches on our way down Whitehall, and when we passed them, he was so sad. We couldn't disappoint him our last day in London! So we went and got him a kid's meal. He was SO excited the moment we walked in to the restaurant. Kicking his legs, pointing at the menu, saying "chips, chips, chips!" Yes, my darling--chips!

Once we finished eating, Henry and Daddy played on the Lions at Trafalgar Square. That was pretty exciting! Anything Daddy does Henry wants to do, so as soon as Derek jumped up onto the platform by the lions, Henry wanted to get up there, too. No problem kiddo--your Dad is awesome.

Anyway, we walked back to the hotel for naps again, and Derek and I got some things packed up and put away.

That night, we grabbed dinner at Nando's again (I know--but why not?! We knew Henry would eat it, it's a pretty good deal, and it was close). For dessert, we walked down Kensington High Street and got Ben's Cookies. YUM!

Then, it was to bed. We got up and packed the next morning, loading our buggy up with all of our belongings, then headed to Paddington Station to catch the Tube in to Heathrow. Good bye, London! We said. Good Bye, England!

See you soon!

The City of Lights

We literally had hours in Paris. The first night we arrived in France, and then for an afternoon before we took the Eurostar back to London. So, we had to pick and choose what we did. Especially with our incredibly patient, but very tired, toddler.

Around 5ish we arrived at Gare du Nord, loaded the buggy up with our stuff, and went to the apartment we were renting for the night. Not going to lie--I know which areas of London to stay in and which to avoid, but I didn't know anything about Paris. Let's just say we won't ever be staying there again. When we walked up, we saw dozens of people milling about, obviously of Middle Eastern descent. Which, normally, I wouldn't care, but with all the terrorist activities happening currently, I was a bit nervous. Turns out they were Pakistani--definitely not so bad. But still, between that and the hoards of National Police we saw patrolling that area, we'll find another neighborhood to stay in. But hey, the place was perfectly adequate for our needs for just one night in Paris.

After dropping our stuff off, we headed towards the Seine and the Eiffel Tower. We got dinner on our way, a Pret near the Opera (yes, a British restaurant. We were hungry, wanted something fast, and something we knew Henry would eat), then enjoyed the evening along the Seine. The lights were just turning on at the Palace de Concorde. Of course Henry was very excited about that--he kept pointing at the lights, "yights, yights!" he says.

When we reached the river, we turned towards the Eiffel Tower that was beginning to shimmer in the evening. I love looking at the Tower at night; especially on the hour when the hundreds of white lights shimmer and sparkle across the Seine. Henry was SO excited about that--"Oh wow!"--and wanted to get as close as possible.

We obliged, walking quickly until we were standing right underneath the Tower, waiting in line for tickets. We only went to the second level, as it was past bedtime and we had a busy/early morning the next day. But that was perfect for us, anyway. The views were spectacular. We could see Notre Dame and the Arc de Triomphe all lit up, as well as Sacre Coure in the distance. Paris truly deserves the name "City of Lights".

Henry was so tired by the time we got down from the Tower and was asleep before we'd even left the square. Sweet little guy slept the whole way home on the Metro and up into the apartment. He woke up to get his jammies on, but then went right to sleep. Which was good, since Daddy and I were totally exhausted.

The next day, we headed to Normandy. Which was a bit of an adventure, actually. There is a one hour time difference between Paris and London, and we thought Derek's phone had updated automatically--nope! Once we figured that out, we rushed to get out of the apartment, and sprinted across Paris to Gare St Lazare where we caught our train to Caen. Seriously--we walked over two miles in less than thirty minutes. With all our stuff. I was so proud.



After our fun in Normandy, we took the train back to Paris and arrived at lunchtime. We headed down the Champs-Elysees towards the Arc de Triomphe. Henry was SO tired and fell asleep quickly, so Derek and I grabbed some lunch then sat at a park so he could sleep. We read, rested, and enjoyed watching the people go by as Henry got some sleep in his buggy.

We had all our stuff loaded on the buggy, our "Noble Steed" while we were in Paris. Henry spent some time on Daddy's back, but mostly he was with me in the tummy pack. I don't know what we would have done without our buggy and tummy pack while we were in Europe. They're better than a car!

We did Paris in a much different way than we would have done without Henry. I imagine if it had just been the two of us, we would have hurried to a museum and Notre Dame, and maybe even Sacre Coure. But with Henry, we decided to just enjoy what we could.

So we went to the carousel by the Eiffel Tower. Henry adored that! He was so excited about the horses, the music, and going up and down. He was sad to get off, but luckily we headed to the playground that was just yards away.

Derek and I were discussing how, as parents, we look at cities in completely different ways. We scout out playgrounds, McDonald's, and toilets that have a baby change. Especially the playgrounds, though. That is seriously a godsend! Henry was so excited for the slides and the see-saw, and all the kids to play with. There were a couple his age there, that he followed around and that he taught how to climb up the stairs by the slide. He was so brave! He wanted to do everything himself, and he did a really great job. I can't believe how fast he is growing up.

Anyway, after we played for a while, we loaded back up and started down the Seine towards Notre Dame. It's not a quick walk, at least an hour and a half, but it was beautiful. Henry was perfectly content to sit and observe, especially when I handed him leaves and horse chestnuts to look at periodically. By the time we got to the Cathedral, though, he was ready to be out of his buggy and run around. Thankfully, Paris provided a hoard of pigeons for him to chase around.

We sat outside the Cathedral for almost an hour, enjoying the beautiful building, the lovely weather, and the sound of the bells. Henry enjoyed an apple and chasing as many pigeons as he possibly could.

But then it was time to go. We loaded the buggy back up, got Henry in the tummy pack, and went down into the Metro.

We took the Eurostar back to England, around a two hour trip. We arrived in London very late, ten o'clock, then took the tube to Paddington Station. From there, we had a ten minute walk to our hotel in a very nice neighborhood, with comfy beds. We all crashed, happy to be back in our city.

But hey--Paris was fun for a few hours, too.

Bayeux

After church today, we drove a few minutes out of the way to visit the Bayeux Tapestry in, you guessed it, the town of Bayeux. 

The first time I heard of the tapestry, was while I was at University. I was taking a World Civilization Course, the curriculum covering the beginning of recorded life up until 1500. My professor told us about a lecture that was being presented on an incredible tapestry, and offered a bit of extra credit if we attended. Of course!

Wow, was I in for a surprise. It wasn't just about some tapestry some lady made a few hundred years ago, but about a magnificent piece of history: a 90+ foot long piece of linen embroidered with the story of William the Conqueror. I was impressed and fascinated. I remember taking lots of notes, but mostly listening and looking at the beautiful images put up on the screen. Then, I sort of forgot about it. 

Fast forward six-ish years. When we told Peter Martland that we were going to visit Normandy, he said: "You must see the Bayeux tapestry." A bells starting going off in my head, but I couldn't remember exactly what that was. So, I said: "Ok, we will." I went home and did some Googling, and that lecture from several years ago suddenly started going through my head. 

Was I actually going to get to see this amazing feat of craftsmanship? Yes! And oh, was it well worth the trip. 

The museum has done a wonderful job of presenting the tapestry. It's in a dark room, behind glass, and presented beautifully so you can see every detail if you want to stop and stare. An audio guide that goes through each scene is provided, which keeps the crowd moving and, most importantly, explains exactly what you are seeing. Derek and I shared one, as Henry insisted he needed his own audio guide from the comfort of his buggy. 

I wish we could have taken pictures, but I think their no photography policy is not only practical, but warranted. But despite this, the beauty of the tapestry was so apparent: my respect for the women who spent hours and hours telling the story of William the Bastard turned Conqueror grew with every step I took along the corridor. 

Upstairs, there is an exhibition on how the tapestry was made and the history displayed in the scenes. Henry was most interested in finding all the horses in this part (that's my boy!), while Derek and I had time to speed read all of the labels and explanations in the exhibition. 

Did you know, that it made it through two fires in the Bayeux Cathedral, where it was displayed? It was also used as a sort of tarp on a cart during the French Revolution, when a soldier recognized what it was and took it up to the safety of his office. Thank goodness!

The museum experience ended with a film on the tapestry. (Henry moved from one chair to another, and we may have snuck in some Pringles, but we adults actually got to watch the entire film without too much interruption! Wow!)

Moral of the story is: read about the Bayeux Tapestry, and if you are in Normandy, you simply MUST go see it. 

Oh, and after the tapestry, we stepped in to the magnificent Bayeux Cathedral. Beautiful, rather small for a cathedral, but absolutely spectacular. Bayeux is such a charming, quiet little city. I wish we had had more time to explore, but nap time was fast approaching, and we have a very busy day of travel tomorrow, so we packed up and headed back to our cottage here in Normandy. 

Normandy: D-Day Beaches

The primary reason for coming to Normandy was so we could visit the D-Day Beaches and Memorials. It has long been a dream of mine to walk across the hallowed ground here along the coast of France, and I wasn't about to leave Europe without doing it. I'm so glad we did.

Today, we spent the entire morning and afternoon travelling between the historic beaches, remembering and honoring those men and women who gave their all to liberate France from the tight fist of the Nazis.

Omaha Beach

On the 6th of June 1944, over 43,000 men jumped out of their transports and stormed Omaha Beach. A tangle of barbed wire, bullets ricocheting off rocks and the sand, the horrendous noise from the fleet bombarding the German defenses, the beach of D-Day is long gone now. Today, it is a place of peace and quiet.

When we approached the Memorial, I immediately felt a sense of calm and, surprisingly, happiness. Of course I felt the respectful soberness that comes with visiting a battle site and I recognized that the flags flapping in the breeze represented thousands of young lives lost on the very ground I stood on. But the beauty of the place is that it represents liberation and recovery. The world has healed from the terror that rained down on the tranquil beaches of Normandy, and Omaha Beach is a testimony of that.

As soon as we stepped on to the sand and Henry saw the water, he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbows and pointed: of course he wanted to touch it! At first I wasn't sure if we should let him play in the water on this particular shore. Perhaps it was disrespectful. But then as I considered what I had been feeling, I realized that the reason those men died was so we could enjoy those beaches, not so we would spend the rest of our lives mourning. We helped Henry get down to just his diaper and followed closely as he played in the water and buried his toes in the sand.

As we watched him play, frequently holding his hand as he tried to venture out deeper, Derek and I talked about how beautiful the beach is. Honestly, as Derek said, in terms of sand and sea it is the most beautiful beach I have ever seen. Ever. The water was surprisingly warm, the sand so soft and smooth. How tragic that, 70 years ago, it was the scene of so much fear and destruction. The beaches of Normandy were never meant to be killing fields, but to be enjoyed by everyone, just as they are now.

And isn't that worth fighting for? The peace, the joy, the beauty, that has returned to Normandy? Thousands of men who died at Omaha Beach thought so. They thought it was worth liberating, worth saving, worth returning to the free people of the world to enjoy. As Henry splashed about on the beaches, I felt so grateful for those American boys who laid down their lives 70 years ago so my own little American boy could be free.

Pont du Hoc

Just a little ways down the beach, a bit of land juts out into the English Channel. High cliffs and rocky edges are striking against the beautiful blue sea and sky. Here, on D-Day, the ultimate test of the U.S. Rangers took place. Using just rope ladders and their bayonets to keep steady, the 2nd Division of the U.S. Rangers scaled all 90 feet of these cliffs under intense fire. Pont du Hoc was heavily defended by the Germans, as it was a strategic location for the placement of big guns to fire on Utah Beach. The Rangers' mission was to find and destroy the German artillery on the top of Pont du Hoc, giving the boys on Utah Beach a bit of relief from the horrendous barrage. Under the command of Colonel James Rudder, the Rangers took the ridge after fighting for two days. 

Visiting Pont du Hoc is a sobering experience. It reflects what the countryside would have looked like in the days following the landing at Normandy, as it is scarred with the craters from the artillery bombardment from the sea. It's a bit of an obstacle course in spots, as the holes left by Allied shells are blended with the remains of German defenses, all bearing the scars of the explosives that poured down on the landscape in June 1944. 

As Henry slept in his buggy, Derek and I made our way around Pont du Hoc, marveling at the damage caused those many years ago. Even more than that, we thought about the bravery and conviction of those men fought and died to secure the area. In the visitors' center, we watched a film that included interviews from some of the Rangers who captured Pont du Hoc. Etched into the wall nearby, were the words from one of those soldiers: "Dear God, don't let me drown. Let me get up there and do what I'm supposed to do." 

The bravery of the men who scaled the cliffs at Pont du Hoc and then continued fighting is astounding. By the end of the day, June 8, only 90 of the 225 U.S. Rangers were fit for duty. 

When Henry woke up, we sat and had our lunch on one of the German Defenses, now just a cement slab in the ground. Derek commented on how we probably weren't the first to sit and have our lunch there, our legs dangling and the sun shining down on us. In the days that followed the liberation of Normandy, surely a soldier or two sat there and ate their lunch, drinking from their canteens and eating their K-rations, relieved that the landing on ended, and preparing for months of combat through Europe.

American Cemetery

Not far from Omaha Beach and Pont du Hoc is the American Cemetery. Nearly 9,000 crosses or stars of David are placed in perfectly straight lines there, marking the graves of fallen soldiers. As with all military cemeteries, this place is quiet and peaceful and a spirit of honor permeates the ground. 

I looked forward to visiting this cemetery for several reasons, but the most important was that I wanted to honor the men who gave their lives in the cause of liberty. And not just the liberty of my country, but the freedom of our allies, too. One of my favorite things about Normandy is the immense sense of gratitude the French have for the Americans who liberated their country. When we stepped off the train in Caen, posted along the platform and throughout the station were images of the Americans, British, Canadians, and French soldiers who landed on the beaches on D-Day. French civilians handed them flowers, weeping with gratitude. Children kissed them on the cheeks. Across the countryside, are memorials to these men, flowers placed at the bottom in gratitude. They haven't forgotten what those men did and what they sacrificed for their freedom. 

The American Cemetery in Normandy is another sign of that gratitude. The lawns are perfectly trimmed, the flowers and trees pruned, the marble all polished bright. As we left the cemetery, I couldn't help but look back and see a memorial and final resting place befitting the sacrifice of all those men and women. While we can never make up for their lives, we can give them a beautiful resting place to honor the futures that they gave up for our liberty.

Utah Beach

Our last stop on our D-Day tour was Utah Beach, far along the coast. As we drove the nearly 40 minutes from the American Cemetery near Omaha Beach to the memorial at Utah Beach, Derek and I discussed how actually visiting Normandy gives a true sense of scale to Operation Overlord. Looking at it on a map does nothing compared to walking along the beaches or driving from one end to the other. It was a massive undertaking! To see all the land that was opened up as a front by the Allies, and we only looked at the two beaches the Americans had responsibility for--three more spots lie just northeast along the beach where the British and Canadians landed.

It was nearly dinner time when we reached Utah Beach, so we didn't stay long. Unlike what we saw at Omaha, Utah Beach played host to dozens of locals and tourists enjoying the sand and sea. We watched horses trotting through the water, families picking up seashells, and dozens of windsurfers zipping across the sand. We joined them, moseying across the beach, choosing our favorite shells. Derek found a few for Henry, who immediately used them as writing utensils in the sand. We carved out our names, traced our feet, and built tiny little sand castles.

Looking back on today, I have to admit that this visit wasn't at all what I expected. I had anticipated feeling sad and leaving with a sense of gratitude, yes, but also a sense of sobriety. The gratitude was certainly there, but in a way I hadn't anticipated.

As I watched my innocent little boy scamper around the beaches and pat the marble crosses in the cemetery, I realized just how happy I am. I thought back on all the incredible adventures we have had as a family, exploring England and now France. I thought about how every morning and night we say our prayers, thanking Heavenly Father for another beautiful day, for our home, for our food, and for our freedom. And all of that happiness I owe in part to the men who struggled up the beaches at Normandy.

Today, I felt the quiet peace that rests on Normandy. Of course I felt deep sadness when I thought of the fear those men experienced as they left this life. However, almost immediately after that sadness, I felt a calm reassurance that their willingness to die was not so I would live my life in mourning, but that I would continue to find happiness and joy in the freedom they died fighting to preserve. The beautiful thing about memorials, museums, and dedications is that they remind us of all that we have.

As Derek, Henry, and I explored Normandy today, we did so knowing that we are free to live our lives how we choose. We will go home to our country, the United States of America, with a greater appreciation and sense of gratitude for the sacrifice of those men, those thousands of men and women, who fought on the beaches so we can be free. So we can be happy.

Dover: The White Cliffs and the Castle

Our last destination with the Brutons was Dover. It's one of those places that has been on my bucket list for years--I just had to see the White Cliffs for myself.

Oh, they didn't disappoint! The White Cliffs are stunning and beautiful. The white chalk that stands so majestically above the English Channel is even more incredible in person than it is in pictures. Of course one of the reasons I was eager to stand on top of the cliffs was to look out over the Channel, and imagine the dozens of planes that flew across it in the 1940s. Those brave men who ventured across to the continent to fight the cause of freedom.

It certainly isn't lost on me that the cliffs are white--a beautiful symbol of what they represented to so many men who were searching for the homing beacon of Dover. The knowledge that once the cliffs were in view, it was only a few more minutes until they were above English soil: friendly land. How beautiful they must have looked rising through the mist as the fighters and bombers made their way home to England!

Visible from the White Cliffs, is Dover Castle. Originally one of Henry II's castles, it is more famous for its involvement in Operation Dynamo and it's role during the Battle of Britain and the subsequent battles of World War Two. But wow--plan on an entire day just at this castle! We only had a few hours, and so we chose two things to see: the Great Tower, which tells about Henry II's time there, and the Secret Wartime Tunnels that aided in Operation Dynamo.

In the Great Tower, they had recreated what it would have looked like at the time of Henry II. Our King Henry absolutely loved that--things to touch, lots of bright colors, and even his very own throne!

Choosing their favorite shields. 

So, the Secret Tunnels--it's an incredible 45 minute guided tour on how the tunnels were used in Operation Dynamo--a little known event to Americans. Before we entered the Second World War, the British had been fighting the Nazis alongside the French for over two years. In the Spring of 1940, the British and French soldiers were pushed all the way to the town of Dunkirk in Northern France as the Nazi's took control of the country. Dunkirk is a coastal town along the English Channel. In other words, the British and French had been pushed completely out of France. Now, they were facing complete annihilation. Unless they could escape across the channel.

The "miracle at Dunkirk" is an event cemented into hearts and minds of the British. In an incredibly organized evacuation, 338,226 soldiers were rescued from France. For days and nights, the troops were loaded onto ships and transported back across the Channel home. But the amazing thing, was besides the 39 British destroyers and other warships, the famous "little ships of Dunkirk" were also involved. Merchant boats, fishing boats, pleasure craft, and even lifeboats were volunteered by locals to help rescue their soldiers. Think about that: a fishing boat against the might of the German artillery along the coast of France. But they did it!

Many of the men who were withdrawn felt like failures, as if they had gone to France and returned as cowards forced to surrender. But their friends and families didn't see it that way. No, they looked at their soldiers and said: "You never gave up. You fought till the very last minute, to the very edge of the shore, and still you are here in uniform, ready to cross the waters again to defeat the evil of Nazism." Now, the British identify with the "Spirit of Dunkirk," reminding themselves that no matter the odds, the British never give up. They never give in, and they always keep fighting.

No photography inside---but this is the outside of the tunnels!

One tired Henry. 

By the time we reached the Tunnels, poor little Henry was exhausted. We were inside about 5 minutes before he leaned back in his buggy and fell fast asleep. And, believe it or not, he slept the entire hour we were down there. Through the noise, the flashes of lights, everything. Even at the end, when the sounds of battle were recreated, he stayed fast asleep. What a champ!

Our day in Dover was wonderful. I only wish we could have spent three or four days instead of just one!


 

Same Faces

I was going through our photos from the beach today, and noticed that Mr. Henry and I make the same face an awful lot. I guess he isn't just a mini-Derek after all. :)

Canterbury Cathedral

When I first visited Canterbury Cathedral six years ago as a part of my BYU Study Abroad, I knew I wanted to return again one day with Derek. Then, two years after that, we took a Gothic Architecture class together during our programme at Cambridge--then I REALLY wanted to take him, because I knew he would love analyzing the incredible range of architectural eras that are found within this one cathedral.

Well--I finally did it--I finally got Derek to Canterbury to see the Cathedral.

It was a beautiful and perfect Autumn day today: a perfect day for visiting Canterbury. Once we parked, we loaded Henry up in the buggy (poor little dear had just woken up), then headed in to the city. Canterbury is a very charming medieval town, with the city wall still in tact in a lot of places. It was nice walking through, but we didn't have time to wander; we had a Cathedral to visit.

And it was just as beautiful as I remembered--but actually, a bit smaller. Is that strange? I remembered it being huge, dark (it was rainy the day I went), and a bit fantastic. It was fantastic, but the sunshine made it much lighter and more beautiful.

Canterbury is the seat of the Anglican Church, as just below the Queen, is the Arch-Bishop of Canterbury in seniority. So it's quite an important place in England. But it's more than that--Canterbury Cathedral is the poster-child of cathedrals taking hundreds of years to be built. The crypt is very much Romanesque, but some of the windows and some of the blind arcades are the later part of Middle-Gothic. There are pieces of the Cathedral where it is obvious that the builders were figuring out the new style. Arches that are only just pointed--almost like a mistake. As if they said "oh, hey, we can have a pointed arch and it doesn't fall down! But let's not make it too pointed, because that's a lot of work to crumble, isn't it?" And then they realized that it works and started making it pointier, and pointier--until finally we see one or two ogee arches peeking out in the cloisters.

something happened to these arches....

Canterbury Cathedral is also a pilgrimage site, as it the location of St. Thomas a Becket's murder. Just a few years after he was murdered, he was made a Saint. THOUSANDS of pilgrims walked hundreds of miles to Canterbury in the Medieval Age, and people still do it today, to visit Thomas' Shrine. Unfortunately, it was destroyed by Henry VIII, though a candle marks the spot today. There is a little spot in the Cathedral dedicated to St. Thomas' (not where the original shrine was, though) where you can light a candle. Henry really wanted to light his own, so Daddy and I helped him light one.

This candle marks the spot of the original shrine to St. Thomas

We only spent a few hours there, but that was just right for our little Henry. He started getting tired and hungry, so we had our lunch, packed up, and headed back to Deal for naps.  (which, incidentally, Henry decided he didn't need a nap and wanted to sit in his cot and play with his feet).

Henry saw that Grandpa and Grandma were getting their picture taken, and so he had to jump in front of the camera. This kid LOVES the camera!!