Monday's Memories: The Old Black Lion

We spent our night in Hay-on-Wye at The Old Black Lion, a 17th century inn, parts of which have been around since the 1300s.  Its biggest claim to fame is that Oliver Cromwell stayed there during the British civil war, which we read a lot about in Dickens' A Child's History of England.  We also watched a lot of the British History Channel while we were in the UK so I became more familiar with a lot of British history.  

The Old Black Lion was a really fun place to stay.  17th century means low ceilings, short doorways, crooked stairs, in a word:  charm.

We ended up eating here Monday night after our fruitless walk through the town looking for food before 6 p.m.  I can't remember exactly what I ate, but I do remember that it was beautifully and elegantly displayed on my plate, tasted divine, and was very expensive.  What I also remember about our dinner that night was overhearing the table conversation of some fellow travelers.  Their accents betrayed them as being British, and it caught my attention when this one lady started talking about Matt Damon and how good his political views were, how he really knew what he was talking about.  It made me laugh because I've definitely never heard anyone else say that.  

 Number 4

We found the portable heater in the wardrobe and plugged it in when we got there.  Remember how cold I said the weather turned?  Cold.  We watched a really interesting British reality-ish show on our little telly.  It was about a family who had this huge estate, but because of the huge amount of taxes (duties?) they have to pay they couldn't afford to keep it up anymore.  It had been in the family for so long they hated to lose it, so this lady came in and helped the son turn it into a flourishing wedding-venue.  Those are the types of problems those British have.  All of those huge estates and no money for the upkeep.

 Wardrobe

The little bathroom had a landing with a shower, then two steep steps with the reminder, Mind Your Head!!  Of course I promptly hit my head on the doorway.  You really do have to mind your head.

Monday morning we enjoyed a delicious hot English breakfast in the dining room.  KJ tried a bite of black pudding and said it tasted a little like bacon.  We were wondering, just what IS black pudding?  We leaned over to reveal our American-ness and ask the gentleman dining next to us.  I think KJ felt like gagging when he was told it was sausage made with pig's blood.  Oh, my.