No Such Thing As Too Much Food

Got up early (too early) got showered, and headed downstairs to what I was told was to be quite an “authentic British breakfast”. I was ushered in to the dinning area at 9.00, and offered cereal or muesli (if you ever have the chance, it’s lovely). There was milk and orange juice, as well as toast, and different homemade preserves. There was also a hot tea kettle and a French press on the table. Then Linda, the proprietor, came in with a plate, it was heaped with eggs, ham (bacon), sausage, tomatoes, potatoes, and mushrooms. Just brilliant! I sat there for the better part of an hour trying to get it all down. I can’t even begin to describe how delicious it was. The rest of the day was walking around St. Albans and seeing glorious abbeys, cathedrals, and markets. Then we stopped for Sunday Roast at the White Hart Tap. Sunday roast is a big deal in England. Everyone puts it on, but I’m not sure what the big deal is. It’s lunch or dinner, and the pub or restaurant serves sliced roast beef, potatoes, parsnips, and a pudding that isn’t (it’s not much more than a pastry in the shape of a small bowl, filled with beef broth. Why they call it pudding is beyond me.) Everyone, at some point in the day, partakes. Then we continued walking, though slower now that I’ve consumed 5000 calories in my first two meals. 
Which actually brings me to an observation. There are very few obese people (I’m talking less than one percent), and a very low number of overweight people in England. Everyone walks everywhere. Aside from taking a plane or train, I never road in a vehicle until we hired a cab to leave for Poland. I didn’t feel bad about the food or beer, because I’m still losing weight! 
Ok, back to it, we saw a lot of the old Roman sections of town. The old city wall, circa AD 200, and some mosaic floor sections that have been uncovered. We walked through a huge park, and I would never in a million years be able to do justice to the vistas. Up on top of a hill, looking down over rolling hills where you see, obscured by tall trees, the tower of St. Albans Cathedral. This, I should mention, is mostly made of the bricks from the same wall I referred to earlier, after the Britons kicked the Romans off their island. 
We then headed home, tired, and empty, so we stopped at a few pubs for food and drinks. 
I tried to call it an early night, but spent most of it typing this rough draft.