It seems as though all the roads outside the city are quaint back country roads: rhythmically winding through endless fields, scattered with sheep and the occasional lama, dipping up and down the rolling hills. The small two way lanes are lined with shrubs and tall trees whose branches reach out to each other from across the road above your head. It's a beautiful sight on this sunny winter day, leading me only to crave the view in summer or autumn.
Every 10-20 minutes we pass through another small village perched atop a small hill or tucked away in the next valley. Each including their own brand of cottages, terraced houses, a church or two, the local pub, and in some, an old castle preserving the country's past as if the history channel was coming to life right before my eyes. From the roman ruins to bombings in the world wars- there are so many stories, there is so much culture and so many different accents for such a small island.
From the sea side (peering across the ocean to the Scottish coast), to the snow capped peaks of the Lake District...less than 30 minutes. From the west coast, back home to the east coast...less than 2 hours. In a day trip, shorter than one to cross Colorado alone, I saw life and culture older than even the country of the US itself. England begs to be explored!