August 28, 1999: Day 2 in Birmingham

My first morning in Birmingham, I head downstairs for breakfast. Tony makes the guests’ coffee with a French press and it is not too strong, which I have come to expect of coffee in England. I drink two cups. It is a continental breakfast with cereal, fruit, and pastries. I eat a half a grapefruit, croissant, and toast; which will be my daily fare for the next four months. A young, British couple―staying for just one night―is quiet and reserved. But when I say I am from Maine, on the Canadian border, she brightens and tells me she has a cousin in Canada. They tease each other. She says if they get divorced, she gets his Furby; the latest toy craze.

I work on my journal. The laptop powers up fine with the unit for converting to UK’s 220 voltage electricity. The voltage is double the U.S. standard of 110 and without a converter it will zap the inside of your American appliances. I also need a plug adapter to accommodate Britain’s slanted 3-pin outlets.

Caroline and I take Lutchford for a walk around the Selly Oak neighborhood. It is a quiet, residential street with a row of beautiful brick Victorian houses. We walk by the extensive grounds of St. Paul’s Convent. I didn’t know there were convents anymore, but apparently this one is still a functioning nunnery. Our walk is brisk and I decide my poor blisters will only get worse before they get better.

I try my email. Tony, the proprietor, is willing to allow me to connect through his phone line, but he is worried about missing business calls. I connect to AOL International, which Tony at SPO had installed for me before I left. Click, click, I’m in. Instead of the normal, “You’ve got mail” notification, a British-accented voice says, “Hello, you’ve got post.” I love it! I stay on for only a few minutes conscious of tying up the phone line.

I decide to tackle my train reservations. I walk to the University station on the other side of the campus from Glenelg and take the train to City Centre.

Upstairs at New Street station is the travel center where you get tickets and reservations. Although I have to wait in line for a long time, it is worth it when I finally get to the ticket agent. The ticket agents are wonderfully helpful and take as much time as you need to answer to your questions, help you find the right train, and give you time schedules. I buy a ticket for tomorrow’s trip to Althrop and reserve a seat to London for Wednesday. The train to London goes from Birmingham’s New Street station to Euston station. The agent recommends I buy a ticket to London’s Charing Cross station that is near my London hotel. I can get off the train at Euston and hop on the tube to Charing Cross all on the same ticket and with some savings.

Cadbury World, The Sweet Smell of Chocolate

After having satisfactorily made all my travel arrangements, I am off to Cadbury World in Bourneville on the south side of Birmingham. I grab a tomato and bacon sandwich and a bottle of water that I have on the train. I notice my bottled water is Malvern water; the brand the Queen drinks. Sure enough, as I peer closely at the label, there is the familiar coat of arms—By Appointment to her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. I wonder if the Queen knows that Malvern water is bottled by Schweppes; the same bottler of a common American ginger ale.

As I exit the train station at Bournville, the aroma of sweet chocolate permeates the air.

I ask a man at the factory visitor’s window about the tour. “Oh, you want Cadbury World, love. Cross the street, turn left around the corner of the building, and follow the path to the right.” I walk for what seems like forever along the path as it careens around factory buildings and over hill and dale. When I finally arrive at Cadbury World, the number of children running around almost makes me turn around and go home. I weave my way through the throng of kids and buy my £6.50 ticket for the next tour.

Waiting for my tour to start, I browse the gift shop. I look for the shortbread and caramel candy bar that Brian bought out of a vending machine during our last trip. It immediately became our favorite, but neither of us can remember its name. I buy one each of the miniature “pick and mix” bars: Twirl, Crunchie, Wispa, Wispa Gold, Caramel, Fudge, and Chomp. None of these is it.

Cadbury is offering a new caramel-y Aztec 2000 “limited edition” candy bar for the Millennium. While most people prefer just the plain Cadbury Dairy Milk bar, they say a new candy bar introduced in 1996—Fuse—is incredibly successful. It is a trail mix type of thing with raisins, peanuts, and cereal, “to adapt to the changing lifestyles of busy, young adults.”

On the tour, we walk through the Mayan jungle where the Aztecs grew the first cocoa beans and from where the conquistador Cortez brought them back to Spain. We sip the original chocolate drink that the Aztecs called “chocolatl.” It is not sweet and a pinch of red chili pepper makes it daringly spicy. Not like Swiss Miss, that’s for sure. Next we walk through the Court of Charles II. Although the Spanish Court tried to keep it a secret, in 1615, the King’s daughter, Anne, married Louis XIII of France and her maid brought her recipe for hot chocolate with her to France. It swept through Europe like wildfire. We continue our tour, strolling through the fashionable St. James Street where, in 18^th Century London, coffee and chocolate houses were popular. Finally, we hear the story of the rise of Cadbury from a humble tea and coffee shop. In 1854, Queen Victoria is amused and grants the Cadbury Brothers a royal warrant.

Machines in the packing room wrap 1,000 candy bars a minute and where, our guide says, they manufacture 1 million creme eggs a day all year long to meet the Easter demand. Today, they are making fruit and nut bars and we get a sample bar. At several points along the tour, smiling guides hand out more chocolate bars.

I stand in a long line for the magical Beanmobile ride through the cocoa beanie village. Think, It’s a Small World meets Mr. Potato Head. It is corny and definitely for kids.

The tour ends back at the gift shop. Practically in a sugar coma, I manage to escape without buying any more chocolate. I exit past the Cadbury Creme Egg motorized cars and walk back along the factory paths to the train station.

On the way back to Glenelg, I stop at Tesco and buy The Times, a salad, and Cornish pasty; a mildly spicy meat pie. I read The Times and eat my pasty, which makes me thirsty all night.

As I sit at my vanity and write, my hosts are working in their lovely garden. I hear Caroline whistling a tune from Phantom of the Opera.

Off in the direction of the clock tower, I can see the sun setting. If I look carefully I can see the clock tower through the leaves as it chimes out 8:00 PM. The bells chime every 15 minutes and, on the hour, strike out the hour. The tune is the same four notes as Big Ben, but without Westminster’s deep, booming multi-tone bells. Click here to hear it ring. Sitting at the windows in my lovely room with the bells’ sonorous chiming, is one of the things that will stay with me even years after leaving Birmingham.

The weather has been beautiful for the last two days. Yesterday it was too warm for my new Gore-Tex raincoat from LL Bean. Today, I wore no coat. It has been in the upper sixties with plenty of sun. It is supposed to stay nice through the weekend and the Bank Holiday on Monday.

I watch the Edinburgh Tattoo on the BBC. The Tattoo is a hugely popular annual display of guards, military bands, and bagpipers parading at the foot of Scotland’s golden, light-bathed Edinburgh Castle. Despite the spin-doctors jazzing it up with Barbadian stiltwalkers and American marching bands, it is still a smart precision display and military spectacle. This year is the 50^th anniversary of the tattoo and the Queen’s daughter, Princess Anne, who was born the same month and year as the first tattoo, is on hand to mark the occasion. I go up to bed humming Scotland the Brave.

• In today’s news: Oh, you call it aubergine? The Earl and Countess of Essex were at Dublin Castle on their first formal engagement outside Britain since their June wedding, to launch Millennium Gold Encounter, an international program linked to the Duke of Edinburgh Awards. The Countess is dressed in an aubergine colored jacket to meet Irish President Mary McAleese, only to find her host in an almost identical jacket.