Traveling like this--yanked from one hemisphere and hurled across the ocean to another--does something very odd to my sense of person, place, and time. I am grateful for air travel. I would not look forward to floating for weeks or months in the lower decks of a small vessel, as the g-g-g-grandparents did, coming the other way, but I wonder if it was so very disorienting. We were silly in Houston, 
on our 4-hour layover, awake during the compressed night and morning in the air,
and haggard by Victoria Station, 
waiting for our train to Dorchester.
Thirty hours after Betsy left us at the SL Airport, we were at our B&B in Poundbury, a mile out from Dorchester town centre. This is the view from our window.
Somewhere just out of sight are the remains of Roman Poundbury Camp and aqueduct, which we will have to walk to and look at before we leave. Dorchester was Durnovaria two thousand years ago. I thought the streetlight was evocative of Narnia, except at night, when it is just another light in the eyes.
on our 4-hour layover, awake during the compressed night and morning in the air,and haggard by Victoria Station, waiting for our train to Dorchester.Thirty hours after Betsy left us at the SL Airport, we were at our B&B in Poundbury, a mile out from Dorchester town centre. This is the view from our window.
Somewhere just out of sight are the remains of Roman Poundbury Camp and aqueduct, which we will have to walk to and look at before we leave. Dorchester was Durnovaria two thousand years ago. I thought the streetlight was evocative of Narnia, except at night, when it is just another light in the eyes.
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