Glasgow-go-go

Sigh...

After failing, once again, to secure a ride with my thumb, I returned to the house in Manchester, begging and pleading for another night's accommodation. It was cool to stay another night, as I got to know Pete a bit better, as he only showed up on Monday night. I informed him that when he got to S. Korea he needed to try Sojue (or however you spell it). I also advised him to give the peanut butter covered squid balls a try. I also got a chance to watch Delicatessen, a film by the same writer/director as Amile. It was great. Post-Holocaust, a building in France relies on the "meat" supply of The Butcher. When their latest victim (or tenant) moves in, the butcher's daughter falls for him, and enlists the help of the Vegetarian Underground to help save him. It was great!


The Manchester Crew (minus Pete): Willow, John, Me, Dani and Claire.

Tuesday I boarded the bus bound for Inverness, ironically the EXACT same bus I saw pass me just as I surrendered hitching the day before. The ride was quite nice. Where the south of England just reminded me of a fusion of Ontario and Manitoba, the north is quite scenic. We stopped for a quick break in the Lake District, a beautiful section of England that I'd like to visit in more depth in the summer months.


The view from the rest stop in the Lake District, just south of the Scottish boarder.

I got into Glasgow at about 6 p.m. Barbara met me at the station and we got acquainted while we walked a few blocks to the city bus stop. She had to go to a yoga class, so I went to the local supermarket and grabbed us a bit of grub to eat, along with the cheapest wine I've ever bought (a whole two quid). We spent the night just sharing travel stories and such. Wednesday morning I headed into the city centre, aimlessly wandered a bit until I came across the tourist information centre. I grabbed some fliers and got some info from the nice Russian lady working there (odd that). I headed up to Saint Mungo's Cathedral - it was kind of neat, but the coolest part was the view of the Necropolis. I didn't actually get across to it, as it was starting to rain (a VERY common phenomenon here!), but it was pretty cool to look at none the less.


[1] The Cathedral [2] The Necropolis

After getting back down to the city centre, I found shelter in St. Enoch Shopping Centre. I have to admit, I was starting to get a bit down about things. I was feeling the pressure of having to find an angle for the article I'm writing for Canoe.ca, the rain was a bit depressing and I dunno, I was just starting to feel warn from the constant travelling. It wasn't something I had really considered, but never staying in a place longer than a couple days, having to pack up everything and move on is quite exhausting. The night brought with it a bit of relief from the stresses, and Barbara did good to cheer me up. We rented the movie Human Nature, written by none other than Charlie Kaufman (Adaptation, Being John Malcovich), and it was a laugh.

Thursday morning brought with it a number of things that lifted my spirits. First, I got an e-mail from the New York PR firm that represents EuroRail, and they've offered me a sweet railpass for while I'm travelling in mainland Europe. I wrote them a few days ago explaining that I'm a writer for Canoe.ca and will be travelling Western Europe during January. So yeah, they gave me a pass that is good for a month for 15 days worth of travel in 17 European countries (oh, and I'm near certain it is 1st Class - yup, nothing but the best for this boy!). Holy crap eh!? So, this sort of changes my Europe plans a bit. I'm now considering visiting Greece and Italy. Also, a quick conversation with Carol (my distant cousin I'm staying with in Belfast) yesterday made mention that she might be going to Prague for New Year's. I am not sure if I could afford it, but that would be awesome! North American's don't really hear much about Prague I guess, as I knew virtually nothing other than it is the capital of the Czech Republic. So, turns out that (A) It is this amazingly beautiful historic town that is an awesome party spot for youthful Europeans, (B) it is Eastern European, i.e. cheap - at least for the next year or two, and (C) it's the place where they shot XXX with Vin Diesel.

With my spirits brightening, I ran into the city in hopes of enjoying Glasgow while the sun was shining. I managed to get about an hour or two in before the rain came. Not too bad! :-). My first priority was to go see Glasgow Green, a park that hosts the People's Palace/Winter Gardens (it looked really cool from the picture I saw), and also to see the Former Templeton Carpet Factory. Somewhere in this process it started to drizzle, and it was full-on raining by the time I had bussed it back down to Argyle St. to hunt out Glasgow's Gallery of Modern Art. The place was pretty cool, though surprisingly small. The whole thing took me inside an hour, but I passed on the library in the basement - you just KNOW that there were a thousand things down there. I don't know if you've ever been to a gallery of "modern" art before, but if you ever get the chance, it is well worth it - especially in the UK, where every museum is free. There is a whole lot of stuff in it that is completely goofy in my standards of art. Yes, this is the place where you find vomit on canvass and stuff like that (well, this gallery was vomit free, I think). But there are some amazing, thought provoking pieces as well - the type of stuff that isn't just some stupid hyped crap that is "tres chic" in NYC right now... but stuff that 200 years from now will be considered the definition of our times.


[1] St. Andrew's in the Square - I don't really know what this building is, or rather was, as it is now a restaurant/night club or something. [2] A big obelisk monument in Glasgow Green, a nice park that runs along side the River Clyde.


[1] The People's Palace and Winter Gardens (the white greenhousey thing). I should have gone in, but I felt rushed by the disappearing sun to get some more photos shot. [2] The former Templeton Carpet Factory - allegedly the oldest building in Glasgow - I was, admittedly, disappointed. It's just a big business centre now. This photo is actually just the back of it. I couldn't find a "front".

The double-edged sword about Glasgow is that it is going through a conversion from a city of industry to a city of culture - so near everything in the city is being worked upon. Great for the city, crappy for photographs. After the Modern Art Gallery, I headed back to the apartment to get out of the rain and to eat something. I was also quite excited to find out if my inbox contained a letter from (A) ScotRail - with whom I've been trying to get free transportation around Scotland, and (B) Scottish Tours - with whom I've been trying to get a free day-trip bus tour out to Braveheart Country and Loch Lanoch (or something like that). I was not disappointed; both had written me back with positive things to tell me. Unfortunately the schedules didn't jive with the Scottish Tour thing, as I'm planning to be in Inverness tomorrow night, and their Saturday daytime tour was all booked. But, as I write this, I am still drying off from my quick excursion into Glasgow to grab my first class rail tickets from Glasgow to Inverness tomorrow, Inverness to Edinburgh on Tuesday and Edinburgh to the ferry port on the west coast on Thursday (where I'll catch a ferry to Ireland). Yay! Not only that, but Eddie, my contact at ScotRail, through in a day-trip train from Inverness to Kyle Of Lochalsh, where I can visit the Island of Skye. I guess that the train journey is one of the most beautiful routes in Europe. Sweet!

At about 6 p.m. or so, I gave Barbara's mobile a ring and we agreed to meet downtown to get some good Scottish pints in us. Earlier in the day I had revisited the Tourist Information Centre and asked what bars were good. They gave me an entertainment guide and a pamphlet for the Scotia Bar - a bar that claimed to be the oldest in Glasgow. I presented Barbara with the info, and even though she said most bars that didn't have windows you could see in were a bit dodgy, she agreed to give it a shot. It was a great little place. We got a seat RIGHT beside the band (I mean, so close that if there was a backstage, we were in it...). The band did a bunch of cover songs, ironically many North American ones - but the singer's Elvis impression was first rate. We stayed for a few pints (with Barbara switching to Vodka and Coke) and then went to check out a place called the Biere Republic - modelled after the bars in Prague (oddly enough). It was a younger pre-clubbin' crowd, but still much fun! I opted for a taste of home, and got a bottle of Moosehead :-). We grabbed some cheesy chips (a.k.a. cheese fries) for the bus ride home, and came back to the flat to watch a bit of my new favourite show, The Office, before bed.


[1] Barbara, doing what the Irish do best. [2] Me ... attempting to be like Barbara.


[1] The Vagabonds - the World's Best Trio (according to the bill). [2] Barbara, finally standing still enough for me to get a photo.


[1] The Gallery of Modern Art at night. The small roadways (which are actually blocked off to cars) on both sides of the building have a net of lights that creates a virtual ceiling - it's very cool. [2] The Office - I watched the entire first season today. It is hilarious. It's filmed like a reality TV show, but isn't. It's FULL of awkward moments, which always make me feel uncomfortable, but it is hilarious.

With my Scottish trip planning all resolved, I'm just waiting for Barbara to get home. Her boyfriend, who lives about two hours away, is coming down for the weekend and the three of us are going to hit the town. Not sure when I'll next update - I know that Simon, my host in Inverness, doesn't have Internet, as may be the case with Tori, the Aussie putting me up in Edinburgh. So, who knows. I'll do my best though.

Hitching - Take II, Bugger, take it all.

Is there something wrong with me? I mean seriously... no one picked me up :-( Haha. Perhaps I'm too intimidating? Perhaps I am just too impatient. Or perhaps, and this is a stretch, I just really like mass transit systems so much, I am secretly sabotaging my hitchings :-)

Anyway, embarked early this morning to hitch again. Took a city bus to a "perfect" spot, and tried for almost 2 1/2 hours with no luck. Finally I just said - screw it! and went into Manchester and bought a bus ticket for tomorrow at noon. It works out well because it gets me into Glasgow at like 6:05 p.m. - and I spoke to Barbara (my gracious host in Glasgow) and she can come collect me from the bus depot.

Ok, time to go get pished on Strongbow cider as I'm back at Dani's and their one flatmate is leaving for Korea sometime soon... so it's sorta a good bye. I've got a couple new photos of the awesome friends I've made here that I'll have to add to this when I get a chance.

Peace.

Mancunian Candidate

The bittersweet defeat of my unsuccessful attempt to hitch out of Ipswich has been tempered by the fact that I am again staying with some wonderful strangers.

Woodbridge was great, a nice break from the fast pace of London. I mostly just sat around, read and watched TV. One day I headed into Ipswich and checked out the museum and a place called Christchuch Mansion – essentially a really large estate that has a lot of old portraits and paintings. It was pretty cool. The Ipswich museum was pretty standard in regards to the natural history stuff. However, it excelled at giving me a brief history of England. It was also very cool to learn about how the area was affected by World War II. Because it was on the east coast of England, and a semi-important port to the ocean, it was pretty heavily bombed by the Germans.


Christchurch Mansion.


[1] A poster in the Ipswich Museum from WWII on how to identify friend and foe in the air. (Cory, I figured you'd like this). [2] Ipswich ... hmm... yeah, this photo about sums it up.

I left Woodbridge early Friday morning and confronted the pissing sheet of rain with vigor – for about an hour and a half. I tried a couple different spots near the round-about heading onto the A14, the road that headed roughly in the direction of Manchester. I was armed with a good sized piece of cardboard with big black Towards MANCHESTER printed on it. It was last seen on the side of the road, virtually mush from the rain, with a desperate NORTH or WEST on the back.

Admitting I was not going anyway, and fast, I found a local bus and headed into Ipswich city centre. Finding the bus station (a.k.a. a church converted into a tourism agency), I stood in the queue for about 20-30 minutes, struggling with my backpack, and finally got to the front of the line. I was informed that the bus to Manchester, via Cambridge, had left at 9 a.m. (it was now about 11:30 a.m.). My only other option was to get the 3:10 p.m. bus to London and then a bus in London to Manchester, arriving at like quarter to midnight. The cost for the bus was about 34 quid, so I decided to take my new found information to the train station and see what they had to offer. A 10-15 minute hike later and I found out I had just missed the train. Godamnit! I was beginning to feel like I was in some sick English Steven King novel and was never going to be able to leave Ipswich. The next train was at 2:20, but would get me into Manchester at 6:30 p.m., which was exactly the time I was supposed to meet Dani. The train was ₤47, but weighing the extra 10 quid against arriving uber late and having to climb back up the hill to the bus station, I decided to pop a squat and wait for the rails to take me north.

The train ride, even with changes in Peterborough and a missed transfer in Doncaster, was pretty good. Definitely better than the 8 hours the coach would have taken – and god knows how long hitching would have taken. Luckily the weight of failure counteracted the lightening of my pockets… and balance was restored.

After being pointed in the right direction by a cute girl with a trumpet, Dani met me at Piccadilly Gardens and we grabbed a bus for Chorlton, the borough of Manchester that her flat was in. “Flat” isn’t really the right word, it is more a multi-level house with stairs I still haven’t seen the top of. Some of Dani’s flatmates are out of town (one in Blackpool and one in Prague), however the ones that remain are great! Claire is an Aussie in marketing, and works for a company that helps implement proper programs and facilities for people with disabilities. Willow is studying her Masters in Animal Behavior and is from New Zealand and John works with his dad in photography, and is quite funny.

We spent Friday night drinking some Bass beer I bought at the local Safeway, bustin’ out various riddles and watching hilarious British television – of which I cannot remember a single title. My memory of the night may be somewhat hazy due to the fact that Willow brought out a bottle of Absinthe. I have never been a big fan of straight liquor, and am usually tentative of shooting anything strong, but never, never have I watched three people swig back a shotglass full of green liquid and then proceed to uncontrollably twitch for five minutes. You know that little irk you get when you take a shot of whisky or Jagermiester – like that, but continual. It was brutal.

Saturday Dani had to work, so I hung out with Claire all day. She is really cool – I’m really starting to have a very good opinion of Aussies – not that it was bad before. We went into city centre, walked around a Christmas Market, drank some Mulled Wine (basically warm spiced red wine), and just generally stared at Macunian architecture.


[1] Manchester's town hall - if it looks remarkably like the parliament buildings in London, it's not a coincidence. Same architech and designed to look the same ... ah, the British, known for their originality the world over ;-). I also like the giant inflated Santa, really brings out that 'classic' look. [2] Same buildings, better angle. This is where Claire and I had some mulled wine and browsed the little outdoor Christmas market - Mmmmm, cheese samples.

Last night (Saturday) was another night of drinking, this time (the safer) red wine and Pepsi with Malibu rum. I also brought out the Crown Royal and reminded Dani what she’s missing living over here – haha. We stayed up until about 4 a.m. trying to solve riddles from the riddle book Sue and Gino got me for my birthday. We also played a killer game of Asshole – but seeing as Willow changed all the rules and kept calling the Asshole a Bastard, I think we’re changing the name to Bastard. Really, I wouldn’t mess with Willow. She’s like 6’1” and a kickboxer… I made her demonstrate her kick on the punching bag in her room … deadly mate. Ironically, she denies that her parents were hippies, even with a name like Willow, and the fact that she’s been a vegetarian since birth (puts my eight years to shame).


[1] Me in a park in Chorlton by Dani's. [2] Dani in the same park, just slightly to the left. Can you tell I'm spending LOADS of time on these captions?


[1] This one is for Gino. I'm sure you've all heard, but Bush came to visit London last week. There were TONS of protests and these signs are all over the place. [2] This is John. "Wud you lye-ke me to rube ma nipples?"

Oh! Also, I got my first solid taste of Rugby. For everyone in North America, where I’m betting it barely made the news, England beat Australia in the World Cup of Rugby yesterday morning. Essentially, over here, this was the equivalent of the SuperBowl. It was also the first time in a LOT of years that the Cup came back to the Northern Hemisphere.

Well, after checking my e-mail yesterday and having an e-mail from a guy that runs a hitch hiking site, I’ve renewed my resolve to once again try my hand at hitching. Basically his e-mail pointed me to a very current message thread on a board that was talking about hitching in the UK. The messages basically said that hitching from rural south-eastern England (read: Suffolk or Ipswich) is useless. It also said that the further north you get, the easier it becomes – the people are friendlier. Plus, hitching from major cities is a lot easier. So, I’ll give it another go, and see what happens, as I’d REALLY like to skip on parting with more quid.

And one final note – I got in contact with the editor of the travel section of Canoe.ca, and he’s agreed to publish some article ideas I have for Scotland. With that I contacted Hilton Hotels and I may be staying in a nice room when I get to Edinburgh. I haven’t heard back about comp. transportation yet – which is really what I need.

Ok, just in case ....

So, this entry isn't really an "entry" per se, but rather just a quick update incase I get abducted when I attempt to hitch hike to Manchester tomorrow and am swept off into some human-trade slave organization - in which case I would not get to do an update, and I'm sure you'd all be distraught - so, I'm doing it now.

I've spent the last few days in Woodbridge on the east coast of England. Departing London was painful, as I've made such awesome friends there and hopefully I'll be able to see them again soon. I've been staying with Ruth's mom and sister. They are great!

Tomorrow I'm off to Manchester. I spoke to Dani last night for the first time. She is the girl that I met through Globalfreeloaders who is putting me up in Manchester for the weekend. She, incidently, is from Fenwick! Crazy, small world we live in! I'm pretty excited to meet her, and it sounds like I've got an exciting weekend ahead of me - assuming I get there.

I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing tomorrow. I mean, I've never hitched before... so this will be interesting. I bought a Britian A to Z road map guide, and I have a rough idea where the highway is... so... wish me luck!

I went into Ipswich today, which is actually a city of some size. It's not huge or anything, but it's bigger than I thought. I went to their two museums and learned all about the area as well as a bit of English history. It's weird being in a place that was heavily bombed during World War II - very interesting stuff.

Alright, me and Sarah Joy are going to go see if the little store across the street has any movies we both find agreeable.

Peace.

Last Days In London

Well, once again I’m writing this on my laptop with hopes of posting it the following day. I was shown a cool backpacker’s Internet café today that only charges a ₤1 per hour of usage. I figure I’ll post this before I head back down to Andy and Margaret’s place and pick up the winter jacket I left there when I departed yesterday. Damnit. I mean, I haven’t found need for it yet, and actually ended up carrying it around uselessly my first day in the Queen’s city – but, I am somewhat certain as I approach Inverness and winter and the open roads … I’m going to be grateful for its coziness.

So, where to begin… the eternal question. Well, I left off on Wednesday, after having spent the day in London. True to my previous speculations, I headed back into the city on Thursday to meet up with Maryann as she finished work on Oxford Rd. So, hoping on the Northern Line I headed up to Embankment, skipped over to the District Line, or was it Circle… regardless, I ended up at Oxford Circus. As I was on the escalator out of the station a guy around my age approached me and said, “So, what part of Ontario are you from?” I was like, “Wha?... how’d did you… *scratches head*”

He explained that he saw the Green Party pin on my bag and figured I must be Canadian (wrongfully assuming there was no Green Party elsewhere). He then saw my Ontario pin I have on my bag, and decided to find out more. We chatted outside the station for about 10 minutes, just chatting about travel and stuff. He explained that he was from Sudbury, and had been over here travelling since August, oh and that his name was Rob Morden (of all things). I had about 15 minutes to kill before I could call Maryann and let her know I was in the city and waiting for her, so we decided to stroll around the area and see what it was like … it was like, crowded. It was rush hour and there was a gazillion people all going in the opposite direction I was going it. We slipped back on to a smaller side street and checked out pubs and such. Eventually we met up with Maryann, but not before chatting up a cute Spanish girl from Madrid who was working in one of the souvenir shops.

Rob, Maryann and I hopped on the line and headed to Liverpool St. Station to go to Brick Lane, an area of London that is sort of little India. It is a bunch of Indian food places. We went in for a pint of Amstel and some Sublime at a bar called 33 Feet East (of what, we weren’t sure). We were met there by Maryann’s flatmates Peta and Shevonne and Shevonne’s boyfriend Martin. We headed directly for food – and after about 10 guys on the street trying to convince us that their restaurant is the best deal. We ended up going to the only one that didn’t try to convince us to come in – incidentally one of the busiest on the street. We had a great meal and some great conversation. As I knew I would, I instantly got along well with Maryann. The three girls were all Aussies, while Martin is a Londoner.


[1] Peta, Me!, Shevonne, Rob, Maryann and Martin. [2] Andy and Maggy's kids, Samantha (Sammy) and David.

We quickly went to another little pub, but it was closing, apparently, the pubs all close at 11 in London, but the clubs/bars all stay open late. Departing, Maryann, Rob and I split from the group to hop on the Underground and head to our respective places. Maryann explained that if I wanted to, I could come stay at her place in the city as her one roommate was heading to Egypt.

Friday I did virtually nothing, but polished off a good number of Labatt Ice with Andy and watched some British soaps (so that’s what Coronation Street is!). With a bit of a hangover I woke up Saturday morning and headed back into London, this time with all my gear – minus my winter jacket… damnit! Maryann met me at the Gloucester St., unfortunately I got off at South Kensington – and had to hike it a few blocks. We grabbed some groceries and got to her place just in time for the arrival of Sarah from California.

Sarah’s funny, as she’s been abroad long enough that the combination of Californian-raised, but British-exposed has caused her to feel very Canadian to me. I think I’ll give her honorary Canadian status. I actually just finished giving her a crash course in Laptopology. She got a laptop for graduating university, but sadly had not really taken it out of the box before she got here, so really didn’t know much about how to use it. It was a painful experience for me because she has a phenomenal laptop, CD-writer, DVD-ROM, loads of memory and hard drive space, top notch connections, blab la bla… AND it’s a Gateway ta boot. Ah well, it was fun giving her my uber-tired, I’ve had four hours sleep, computer lesson. But I’ve got a couple glasses of Pepsi in me, so I should make it throu… ZZZzzzzzz….. right, if I had fallen asleep, do you really think I’d have had time to type ZZZzzzzzz…… (for all the Monty P fans out there). Besides, I’m a sucker for a cute girl in need. ;-)

Anyway, where was I? Right, Saturday morning. Maryann and I hung out, met Sarah, and then headed to Westminster on the tube, to catch a ferry to Greenwich. I was initially a little hesitant to spend the extra ₤4.30 on a ferry pass, but decided it might be a nice opportunity to dust off the camcorder, which unfortunately meant I didn’t take loads of pictures – but you can all see the film when I get back. Westminster is visually very cool. It is where all the houses of parliament are – Big Ben, these pretty gold buildings, etc. Very cool stuff. The ferry was awesome, and well worth the few quid it cost to take it. It was about an hour long, and did get a bit chilly, but the tour guide guy was pretty funny, in that VERY-British way, and I got to see London from the Thames, which I think everyone should do.


[1] I snapped this as the ferry was going under the bridge. I managed to get more daytime photos of Tower Bridge, which was cool - but didn't have the space to post them here. [2] That's right folks act now on our Holiday In London Package and you too can get your very own Tower Bridge Hat! Just Call 1-800-GOOFY-PHOTO. Haha, Maryann was insistant that the photo be taken with my head PERFECTLY centred between the bridge.

Getting down to Greenwich, we basically went straight to the Observatory, which is on top of this big hill in the middle of the Greenwich park. Greenwich for those that don’t know is where the Prime Meridian is. It’s where all latitude is measured from. It is also ground zero for time zones. Time is all plus or minus so many hours from Greenwich Mean Time (I think that’s what it is – GMT?). Anyway, at the top of the hill at the Observatory they have all this cool stuff, including a big green laser that beams out marking the Prime Meridian. By the time we left there it was dark so we skipped on the Maritime Museum, which was a bit of a bummer, but it just gives me a reason to come back I guess. We did manage to find time to stop for pies at the famous Goddard’s Pie House, much to Maryann’s suggestion – it should be said though, the pie was great!


[1] The Cutty Sark - a really cool ship. It was/is clocked as being the fastest ship to journey from Australia to England or something. It's right when you get off the ferry in Greenwich. [2] The gardens around the observatory of Greenwich. They reminded Maryann of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe - I agree.


[1] The famous Goddard's Pies in Greenwich (which, so you know, is pronounced Grenich - like the 'village' in New York...) mmmm.... pies. [2] Haha, alright, I look pretty goofy in this photo, but I'm surrounded by WOMEN! Haha. From Left to Right: Shev, Sarah, Me, Lauren and Maryann.

We got back and I got to meet Maryann’s third flatmate, Lauren. Alright Maryann, I admit, I had a little crush on her… you busted me big time with that one (what’s that two points for you, two points me?), but did I really ask about her too much? I don’t think I did… Shev cooked us a fabulous lasagna for dinner, and we had inklings of ideas to go out and see some DJ uptown, but we all just basically sat around the kitchen table and chatted – and drank… ok I think it was just me that drank, but I did get them all to dent my Crown Royal bottle with me. Lauren went to bed first, at about midnight, then we lost Shev at about 4 a.m., but Sarah, Maryann and I were still all up and talking politics at 6 a.m. – that was about the point I looked at Sarah and seeing the tiredness in her, I suddenly realized I was wiped, much how I feel now.

So, I went to bed at about 6, and then woke up when Lauren was getting ready for work at about 10 a.m. this morning – whoo hoo, four whole hours. Luckily my day only really consisted of lounging around, walking to the Internet café, again getting a wonderfully home cooked meal from Shev, and chatting. Time flies though, and I have no idea how it got to be 1:15 a.m. – I need to get to sleep.


[1] This is the apartment from the outside/street level. The balcony of where I was staying is on top of the white, block-like thing with four windows. [2] Anyone that's watched Snatch with me knows that I cannot help but laugh EVERYTIME the little dog in it squeeks... same deal here. Every time I see this photo I chuckle. It was the funniest thing - this was in a little shopping centre/mall type thing and this dog was standing outside the glass door of a drug store just waiting for the right person to come out, watching everything that went on inside. People would come out... he'd move, and then run right back and put his nose up to the door. Too funny. Too cute.

Tomorrow should be an interesting exercise in time management. I’m tubing it back down to Morden to grab my jacket, coming back up here, hopefully being able to catch the Tate Modern museum (museum of modern art) with Sarah and then catching a bus at 4:30 at Liverpool St. Stn. for Woodbridge to go and stay with Ruth’s mom and sister. I talked to them tonight and they were kind enough to work out all the details for me, so that is a load off, but it is going to be hard to get everything done tomorrow and say goodbye to London before 4 p.m. I do hope Sarah will be able to join me at the museum, as doing the Science and Natural history museums alone was kind of boring, but she is trying to catch a bus to Darby tomorrow, and doesn’t know if she’ll have time. And somewhere in all of that, the two of us are going to try and find time to get down to the Internet cafe so she can e-mail her mom and I can post this entry.

Alright… night. Morning, or whatever the fuck it is.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DANA!! I love ya sis!!!

Feelin' The Love In London

It's a bit of a test to be writing this on my laptop, so as to save time on the Internet.

Where to begin, where to begin...

After braving the I90 and the outskirts of Buffalo, Vanessa, Dana and I arrived at the Buffalo-Niagara International Airport. I sorted myself out at the ticket counter, said my goodbyes and headed towards security where I, surprisingly, didn’t set off the alarm. I ALWAYS set off the alarm - but I took no chances, I was one step away from taking off my pants to prove that I wasn’t concealing any terrorist devices.

A short wait, and a short hop and I was at US Airways’ hub in Philadelphia. My stay at the Philly airport was a bit longer than in Buffalo, but still bearable. I grabbed the cigs for my still-unmet hosts at the duty free and when boredom set in I went back for a bottle of Canadian warmth (read: Crown Royal) to show that Irish whisky ain’t got nothing on Canadian rye.

I must say, if ever asked to fly British Airways again, there is no doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t hesitate. I’ve been on pretty much every major American (and Canadian) carrier, and none of them compared to BA. I was given free headphones to use (none of this $5 crap like on Northwestern and Delta), I was served a mini (about two glasses worth) bottle of wine with dinner. I also got to watch two movies in a little LCD screen set in the back of a seat in front of me. (Pirates of the Caribbean and Tomb Raider II, if anyone cares). We landed at about 6:20 a.m. local time, so, 1:20 a.m. EST. I didn’t have too much trouble finding Andy at the airport, the big “RYAN” sign helped. A short trip from Heathrow and we were in Morden, my temporary home.

I happened to arrive just as David and Samantha (Maggy and Andy’s young ones) were getting ready for school. I took my leave to get some shut-eye near as soon as I could, and managed to sleep for about 4 hours. Tuesday was mostly spent coping with jetlag and getting to know the place I was staying. I didn’t leave the house once all day. Thankfully the myth about the British only having 4 channels is grossly confused - they have a cable box here that delivers a bunch of channels, including a bunch of movies and US shows. No current-season Survivor though. Sigh.

Today was a completely different matter than the laid back day previous. I woke up pretty early - about 7:30 - and around 9:30-10 myself, Maggy and Andy headed into the city via a tube station about a 10 minute walk away. I grabbed a one day travel card (₤4.50) which let me use the tube and busses unlimitedly all day. Our first stop was Trafalgar Square, in the heard of London. It was raining a touch, but cleared up pretty quickly and after about an hour the sun was shining.


[1] Trafalgar Square [2] This is Andy and Margaret, my gracious hosts that have been kind enough to put up with me.

We did a bit of a circle that took us through St. James’ Park and managed to get to Buckingham Palace just in time to see the changing of the guard in the distance. I may try and get there earlier for a better position tomorrow. At the Queen’s palace Andy and Maggy headed for home, as they both had to work this afternoon.


[1] This curious little guy was nearly intimate with my camera. [2] Buckingham Palace: The flag at full mast means the Queen is at home. I tried to knock on the door, but men in fluffy hats advised (with guns) against it. :-)


[1] Doesn't it figure, the one photo of me in it and I blink. [2] This is the circle outside Buckingham Palace and features a statue of Queen Victoria, England's longest running Monarch - but QE II is closing ranks and is expected to surpass her.

I was happy to have them along, but I was excited about being left to my own devices and seeing how I’d fare. I got some quick instructions from Andy on where to catch the bus that heads to the museum area, and about five seconds after they left I got distracted and forget everything he said. I vaguely remembered something about a park, so I ventured into the closest one and hoped for the best. I met a nice old Australian man who was in a rush to meet his wife at Westminster Abby but had the misfortune of asking me for directions. I pointed in the rough direction of where I thought it was - his poor wife. Then I ran into a couple that asked me to take their picture. The girl, a cute South African, was surprised I was in only a T-shirt, but I explained I was Canadian, hehe. The guy was from some country that when said in his accent was unintelligible. He was only in town for the day, so they were in a hurry to see all the major sites. At the other side of the park I figured out my location and realized I was just across from a spiffy monument to a famous duke… that started with a “W”… damn my memory! Ok, new rule - I bring a pad and pen with me. Oh! Just checked with Andy, and it’s Wellington Gate - named for the Duke of Wellington. Hey, I got the “W” right. Across the street was Hyde Park, so I dipped in there for a bit, but didn’t want to spend any more time walking around parks… and as I had checked my map and decided to walk to the museums instead of busing it, time was wasting.


[1] Wellington Gate [2] A statue of ... right, pen and pad of paper! - in Hyde Park none the less.

A trip down Knightsbridge Rd., past Harrods (a famous, and tres chic store), and I decided to grab some grub. Not wanting to shell out a few quid and just get some lousy London street meat, I found a small market-shop and grabbed two baguettes (29p ea.) a package of salami (₤1.20), two packets of butter (10p ea.) and a can of pop (59p). I did up one of my baguettes stuffed with meat, and shoved it down out front of the Victoria and Albert Museum (The National Museum of Art and Design). I must have been quite the sight spreading butter with my lock blade (thankfully the airport security dudes felt it wasn’t a matter of National Security and let me keep it) - otherwise I may have been using my finger.

The Art and Design museum was pretty neat, but I got bored of it quite quickly. It was mostly just clothing and stuff - it sort of felt like a combination of education and window shopping - two things I’m not overly fond of.

From there I headed over to the Science Museum. My new found South African friend had told me that there was a Lord of the Rings exhibit there - but she neglected to mention that it was 13 quid to get in … too steep for my money pouch. Mid way though the museum I started to get tired of walking and impatient with not being able to find the “Materials” exhibit, so I decided to leave. Heading for the exit, I found the “Materials” wing… go figure. I wizzed through it, and went directly to the Museum of Natural History. Outside was an exhibit of photography by a guy who wanted to show the world from the air. It was some AMAZING stuff. I wish I had taken some photos of his photos - but I felt wrong doing that. Heading indoors I did about an hour and a half or so walking around learning about the various animals, bla bla bla… I mean, I can’t complain, as all the museums are free, but the highlight was really the photographs in the square outside. Each one explained the photographs and there was also information all about detailing all the shitty things we’re doing to the world. Upon leaving the museums I headed back to the underground, just in time for rush hour, and began my trek to the Tower of London and Tower Bridge.


[1] Inside the Science Museum. [2] The Museum of Natural History - as you can see, it was dark by the time I left.

Not having actually gone into the Tower of London, I couldn’t really appreciate it - but it should be noted, there’s no actual tower. The Tower Bridge was beautiful. I crossed it and went down this path called the Queen’s Walkway or something, and got some nice shots from the shores of the Thames. Walking away from the Tower Bridge, I approached London Bridge - which wasn’t all that impressive. Looks just like a regular Bridge - all those in Welland.. if Tower Bridge is the East Main St. Bridge, then London Bridge is Division St. - functional, if not pretty. The old one was probably better (London Bridge is falling down, falling down… - no joke, it was falling apart, and they replaced it, twice - but give them a break, it was originally constructed in 1200 AD.


[1] The north side of Tower Bridge. I figured out how to set the shutter speed of my camera (sort of), so I was able to get the neat light smearing effect. Though I didn't have my tripod, so some of the photos got a slight blur to them. [2] A side shot of the bridge from the Queen's Walkway on the south shore of the Thames River (walking towards London Bridge).

From London Bridge I took a quick peek at The Monument, a monument (get that eh!?) to remember the fire that ravaged the city at the turn of the century (I think - again, damn memory). I hoped on the tube and headed back to Morden. Now home, I’m chillin’ out, watching some TV and hoping that a night’s rest will return my feet to their previous splendor.

In other news, my ticket to Ipswitch arrived in the mail today along with a very humorous letter from Sarah Joy. I am pretty excited to go see them, but I’ll admit, I’m going to miss the Kirklands.

Tomorrow (which by the time this is posted will be today) I’m hoping to meet up with Maryann, who lives in London centre. I think maybe I’ll hope on one of those tour bus things for the day and then hook up with her after she’s done work. She is a girl I met through Globalfreeloaders.com, but couldn’t put me up due to space problems. However, we made plans to meet up anyway once I got here and after checking my e-mail yesterday, she said she was free Thursday night. We’ll see how it goes.

Cheers.

BTW: Did an entire day in London for £7.10 - so it can be done folks.

Wanderlust

"Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea:
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.

Roads go ever ever on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar,
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known."
- the Hobbit walking song.

Today I put foot to a new road; beginning a quest largely into the unkown. Today I set off in a direction not found on any compass or map, as this journey is not a journey that is about the place I set my pack as much as it is about the experience of leaving my "feather-bed of civilization", my comfort zone that has been safely padded by the things of which I'm familiar. It is about venturing into a world where my success or failure will largely be dictated by the circumstance I find myself in, and my ability to adjust and adapt to it.

Some have suggested I will go only to find a world similar to the one I know. Geographically, and perhaps to some extent culturally, this may be true; I come from one of the most diverse nations on the planet. But the exploration of myself and my abilities that I will tap to survive cannot be learned here. And it is with that in mind that I begin.

"A tree as great as a man's embrace springs from a small shoot; a terrace nine stories high begins with a pile of earth; a journey of a thousand miles starts under one's feet." - Lao Tsu, Tao Te Ching.

I'm up early and hoping the few hours I have before Dana, Vanessa and I head to the Buffalo airport is enough to put the remainder of my things in order. I will have Internet access for at least the first week or two of my journey, and as such, will update as much as possible.

With all the well wishes that I've been given, the one that I will have the hardest time with, but will also try hardest to live is a piece of wisdom that CJ has tried hard to carve into me. Life, or at least my life, always seems to revolve around obtaining a goal or reaching the next marker in my quest for happiness. In my rush to get to where I'm going, I worry I'll miss the journey itself, and experiences aren't made by goals, they are made in the search for goals. It is with that in mind that I go forth and find out what my world is made of. Don't wish me luck, or good fortune, for I do not need either of those things - only hope that one day you can join me, for it is not this place, a lack of money or absence courage, but the people that I love that will again bring me home.

See you all in a few months.