Pocket Lancaster

This morning was the morning I explored the beautifully old town of Lancaster.  During the international student orientation, the local historian came in and taught us the history of our University's town.  Many were alert on the edge of their seat, many were asleep, and me--well, I was still thinking about how my wallet was approximately three hours and forty five minutes away, but I caught a few main points.

The coach rolled out of Lancaster and past miles of bright green fields, scattered with sheep that looked like little walking clouds across the land.  The fields were perfectly manicured with the occasional healthy-looking tree that loomed over resting cows in the lush grass.  I almost wished I walked those four miles.

And as I gazed upon the beauty of the cobblestone streets, I thought to myself, thank God I didn't buy those high-heeled boots

Built Circa 1094

There were two structures in the town that I didn't want to miss.  One of which, I had read about when applying to this school nearly six months ago:

This is one mere doorway to this enormous beauty

The castle, wrapping around a corner, about the size of two or three Kaukes!

The Castle!  Lancaster's castle is the oldest standing building in the entire town.  It was originally a Roman fort built in 79 A.D. and has changed many hands over this long course of time, royal hands to be precise.  Richard the Lionheart (who passed it on to his brother), Henry III and IV, and even Elizabeth I (spent an enormous amount of money to rebuild the top levels.  This castle is also home to the famous trials of the Pendle witches as well as acting as a prison at one point.  There is even a hanging corner which I'm sure I passed unknowingly.
Queen Victoria also made a large impression in front of the town's hall, literally:

Queen Victoria looking rather sour

Famous Brits who are relevant to the town.  It was said that Dickens wrote a short story in a hotel in Lancaster.

Just in case no one noticed the Ashton Memorial, he stuck this one in for good measure

Lord Ashton, who created this rather affectionate memorial to Queen Victoria, brought the popularity of oil cloth and linoleum to the town of Lancaster.  Basically, he was filthy rich and started to make a giant memorial on the top of the hill for his second wife, Jessy.  She passed away and he remarried Lady Ashton III while the memorial was still being built.  While the memorial itself is a glorious artichetural gem, it remains empty on the inside.

Behind me is a small pool of water with spigots for water fountains (it wasn't ornate enough without them)

The view is also breathtaking:

We also went into some very beautiful cathedrals today as well.  The churches are just as ornate as the Ashton memorial.

 When I got back after such an amazing day in my town, I decided to try my jinxed luck at the Porter's lodge (where they keep my mail).  I scanned the list, desperate for any news on my wallet, and sure enough I spotted my name. 

This wallet has been through hell and high water.  The weekend before I was going to leave, I accidentally left it in Boyfriend's car and he drove it off to Wooster and had to overnight it back to me.  Now, it had just spent three and a half days hanging out in London.  I think it's possessed, or has a mind of it's own and doesn't care for me.  Too bad, it's never leaving my sight again.

Tonight I go to the international dinner and hopefully after to Trevor, my college's adorable bar, because it will be closed in a weeks time for renovation!

Cheers!