All my carefully made plans for dealing with electronics went for naught. I have a computer, a camera, a razor, and four Cybikos that run on batteries -- batteries that need to be recharged. But the combination of power strips and transformers I had brought with me did not do it. So, it was back to the English drawing board; perhaps, their power strips and transformers would work.
It was our first day in Durham -- a Sunday so no research was in the cards. Taking care of the electronics became one order of the day. We read labels. We went to the local electronics store -- there appears to be only one -- and consulted and examined. With a new, English power strip, a few converters to get USA plugs into England sockets, and a different transformer we were in the recharging business. And it had only taken all afternoon.
Sunday morning Anne and I had gone to the 10:00 service in the Cathedral. The Cathedral is a very impressive building. It is built at the highest point in town. Its central tower rises hundreds of feet into the sky. The bishops did themselves proud when they built that building. The congregation was equally "impressive." When we entered we were asked to go to the choir. At the 10:00 service there were 30 choir members and 30 members of the congregation sitting in the other half of the choir loft and fewer than 30 others sitting elsewhere in the church. A building that will seat a thousand -- at least -- was in use for the few. The most impressive part of the service was the music. Those 30 voices filled up the building. Apparently, they had how to amplify all figured out by the time they were building that building.
We parked the car Saturday night. We were fortunate to find a parking place within a block of the bed and breakfast. And it was clear by Sunday afternoon that we were unlikely to move the car again until we left town. It is a small town so you can cover quite a lot of it -- especially the parts we wanted to cover -- on foot. More to the point -- if you drove to your destination you could be fairly confident that you would not find a parking place. This is a very old town. Parking is on the street, and they are very narrow streets.
So we have been busy building strong muscles. Five flights up to the room -- or six, as the case may be. Walking up and down the hill to get where we want to go.
Such are the joys of visiting our ancient history.