Our time at Chatsworth – Adventures in England: Part Three

This is the third post in a series starting from the beginning of our trip! Here are parts one and two.

Picking up where we left off puts us driving down the path to one of our must-see sites, mostly because it is the home of Mr. Darcy in the Matthew Macfadyen version of Pride and Prejudice. The breathtaking Chatsworth House.

*I recommend listening to Dawn and the Living Sculptures of Pemberley while reading. Chatsworth House was Pemberley in the movie.

After regaining our composure, we excitedly parked and ran to the entrance for tickets. A steep affair, if you’re like most foreigners and don’t have a membership to the National Trust sites spread around the UK. Adult tickets start at £19.90 (about $26). But, in my humble opinion, it’s completely worth it!

Before entering the house, we perused the sweet-smelling rose garden, situated just beside the estate.

The self-guided house tour quickly led us to the same hall shown in the movie. Checkered floors and a great staircase from which you could command a great presence. We meandered through ornate bedrooms fit for royalty and gawked at the stately library, but not before getting lost in the simple, white domed ceiling that seemed to life us up with it.

As we strolled past the library, yearning to jump the rope and find a good book, we came across this beauty. Featured in the movie and even more stunning 3 feet in front of your face. Yep.

You end the tour by walking through a collection of statues and sculptures. All a creamy white. All very impressive. All great poses.

Same.

Upon the customary exit through the gift shop, which I must say is quite beautiful, we saw a sign for carriage rides around the garden, so obviously we signed up first thing. Horse-drawn carriage through acres of beautiful plants and flowers? Magical! We signed up, got some ice cream, and waited. And waited. And waited, until it was past our time and there were no horses in sight. There was, however, a man in a golf cart holding two other tourists. Ah, carriage=golf cart. Gotcha. Dream crushed, no big deal.

Despite our major slight disappointment, we were very pleased with the tour. It allowed us to see the house from further away and really take in its massive size.

As we drove steadily down the gravel pathway, our tour guide said something I couldn’t quite make out over the sound of the golf cart. I had to ask what was up though, after hearing the excited reactions of my fellow passengers. Apparently the man who was waving as we passed was the Duke of Devonshire, AKA the inhabitant of this great estate. What the! Casual. He was a pleasant and friendly-seeming man, in case you were wondering.

We continued driving around the grounds and saw wonderfully simple views that drew our eyes to a point. The garden was clearly designed to be a pleasure for the eye.

Once the carriage had taken us around, we had to go and explore on foot. Everything was so green, fresh, and lush. Just breathtaking.

 

We walked back to the lawn and decided to wade in the long fountain near the entrance. It was an extremely hot day and the water was so refreshing. Unfortunately, we didn’t think far enough ahead to realize if you’re going to walk down a million stairs while trying to keep yourself from slipping, you might want to alternate your leg usage. We woke up the next morning with very sore left legs. Just the left. Every other step was painful. But I’m getting ahead of myself. After mustering up the strength to pull ourselves from this beautiful place we had dreamed about seeing for so long, we walked out the entrance only to be greeted by some fluffy sheep. I use the term “greeted” loosely, mind you. More like we greeted them. Nevertheless, sheep. Always a nice sight, especially under some mushroom trees.

On our way back to the sheep farm (sense a theme?), we decided to stop in Longnor, the small town near our farm, and eat at the fish and chip shop, which our hosts had recommended to us. The second my friend and I stepped out of the car, however, we heard “heyyyyy” from behind us. Then another and more and more until we turned around and realized about 25 college-aged guys were staring at us from the pub across the street, all wearing neon yellow shirts, holding up beer and yelling at us to come over. We laughed, and waved, and kept walking. The fish and chips were good. Actually, I’m a vegetarian so I didn’t try the fish. But I heard it was good, I think. Nevertheless, we were in a small town in England, so does it matter if it wasn’t?

Alrighty, well that concludes this week’s Adventures in England. Tune in next week to hear what happened on our train ride to York!

~Leah

Find part four here: Wandering York.