Time for a vacation from my vacations

Well, last week marked the beginning of the end in terms of our time here in England. Emily and  I spent last weekend taking the ferry to Holland and walking around Amsterdam. All in all, the trip went very well. We only had about 6 hours in Amsterdam, which was more than enough time to see what we wanted. The sites were definitely different then what we were used to, but still very entertaining. The city was much cleaner then I anticipated, which is always a nice surprise. Being our last trip, I had to keep with my tradition of eating regional foods. After stopping into a restaraut along the main road, I choose hutspot, a traditional Dutch food. The dish is basic, made up of mashed potatoes with carrots and other vegetables diced into it, and on top is gravy and a slab of roast beef. When they brought out our food, Emily’s eyes grew wide and I turned to reveal the sight to myself. In a huge glass bowl was a heaping helping of mashed potatoes and so much gravy that any evidence of roast beef was erased. This had to have weighed 3 pounds. I finished most of it, but Emily helped at the end as her salmon was way over cooked.

That night on the boat, we ate at the fancy restaurant they have on board and I had my first steak since leaving Iowa. It was delicious and we soon turned in to avoid the rough ride that lay ahead.

Yet again, I am back in Hull. At this point, the only remaing thing left to do is my American Art test which is the 17th of December. My final Religions in Antiquity class was cancelled which means I only have American Art this Tuesday and next to round off my semester in Hull. We went and bought our train tickets yesterday for the 18th, which is when we will be  moving out of our dorms and spending the final weekend in England with the McFadyens in Bassingborn. There you go, the agenda for the next 2 weeks.

I figured since now we are through with our travels, I woud have some fun and do a little “Best of/Worst of” list of thisngs I have experienced. I’m jsut making these up as I sit here so if you come up with any I don’t or are curious about my answers, shoot me an email or just ask when I get home. Here we go:

Top 3 Regional Dishes:

1. Lamb chops- Scotland 2. Pizza- Italy 3. Fish and Chips- London

Worst Drivers:

1. Rome, Italy 2. Naples, Italy 3. ITALY, ITALY, ITALY

Most Beautiful Rural Areas:

1. St. Andrews Coast/Old Course 2. Wales coast 3. English Countryside, Southern and Central England

Most  Beautiful Cities:

1. Paris, France 2. Brugge, Belgium 3. Amsterdam, Netherlands

Favorite Historic Sites:

1. Colloseum, Rome 2. Old Course, Scotland 3. Stonehenge

Nicest People:

1. England 2. Italy 3. Scotland

My top three favorite sites:

1. Colosseum/Palatine, Rome 2. Old Course, St. Andrews, Scotland 3. Stonehenge, England

Top 3 favorite tours/museums:

1. Roman Baths, Bath 2. Guiness brewery, Ireland 3. Fry Museum, Brugge

Ok then, there’s some of my favorites from the past few months. For next week, I plan on putting some pictures on Shutterfly of the university since we really haven’t shown that to you guys yet. Also, I will do my best to blog, but it may be short and sweet.

“See” you next week.

Cheerio!

Lamb for Thanksgiving and Salisbury’s Surroundings

Let’s start this blog out last Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. In order to have a bit of home in our Hull abode, Caitlin, Emily, and I decided to have a little Thanksgiving meal. After a bit of debating, we decided on a menu. The line up consisted of a cranberry glazed roasted leg of lamb, sauteed green beans with mushrooms, green onions, and bacon, cheesey mashed potatoes, and stuffing. What was for dessert- rice krispy treats, traditional right? The meal took about 2 hours to complete and was well worth it. We all enjoyed it, even though it wasn’t quite the same as being at home.

Thursday we spent the entire day on a bus travelling from Hull to Salisbury, which is in southern England about 10 hours away. When we arrived, a few of the natives gave us walking directions to our hostel, which turned out to be only 10 minutes from the bus stop. So far, so good. Our hostel was nice, providing us with all the amenities we needed for a comfortable stay.

Friday morning we awoke early to get a jump on the full English breakfast buffet the hostel served every morning. The last traditional English breakfast we had was in Wales, so this was a welcomed treat. After filling up on eggs, tomatoes, bacon, sausages, beans, hashbrowns, and toast, we waited for our chauffer, Vick, to pick us up. Thankfully, he was right on time, and the day was set to begin. Vick operated Vick’s taxis, a business which offered taxi services and tours of Wiltshire, which is the “county” Salisbury is in. Vick was 65 years old. Vick was very nice. Vick couldn’t remember we were from Hull, not London, even though we told him 5 times. Finally, Vick had a tour planned which would take us about 120 miles round trip through the English countryside.

Our first stop was at the Salisbury Cathedral in, you guessed it, Salisbury. It was a beautiful church, and a feat of engineering if you ask me. The cathedral was built on a water meadow, which is caused by water seaping into the ground and then being blocked from penetrating the earth further by a think layer of chalk. If you were to walk on a water meadow, it would seem as though the ground was moving underneath you. To counteract this, over years and years and years before the building commenced, the workers forced any wooden material they could into the ground to solidify the surface. This strategy proved to work well, as the cathedral still stands now as it did 750 years ago, although there have been updates on the inside. Another very interesting thing about this church was that it housed the world’s oldest mechanized clock. The clock was basically a system of pullies and rope which rang a bell every hour on the hour. It has been refurbished and still works today.

Next stop was a surprise for us as it wasn’t necessarily something you would expect in the boonies of Southern England. That attraction: Sting’s house. Turns out, Sting has a mansion right outside of Salisbury, and this time of year you can actually see it due to the fall weather taking effect of the foliage. Vick had worked for Sting and says he is a very nice fellow who will ride his horse down to the pub, have a few drinks, then ride back home. While I’m on the subject, Vick had also done a lot fo work for Rod Stewart. Needless to say he had a lot of stories. After invading Sting’s privacy, we headed on down the road.

The next stop was the one I was most excited to see: Stonehenge. Let me set the climate for you. All morning it had been partly cloudy, a few sprinkles here and there, no big deal. OF COURSE, when we arrive at Stonehenge it starts to rain, nothing we can’t handle. Then, when we get to the stones, it rains the hardest it has rained our entire time over here. Seriously, the wind was hurling these water bullets so hard it hurt. You can see it in our pictures. Even so, it was very cool to see something I had heard so much about and to have experienced being in the presence of one of mankind’s greatest mysteries. Once we were good and drenched (after about 12 minutes) we ran back to the taxi and hopped inside. Vick was very apologetic, but it didn’t make our jeans dry any faster.

The next stop was the lesser known Woodhenge, just down the road. This was discovered by a farmer who, while plowing his field, kept coming across wood logs in a circular pattern. After the site was escavated, it was found that the logs formed a concentric circle, with the focal point being the remains of a child. Pretty creepy huh?

Moving on. Our next site seeing opportunity happened not much farther down the road as we got our first chance to look at the White Horses carved into the chalk hills. The first was at Alton Barnes. Visable from quite a distance, these large horses were cut into the ground for no apparent reason. Due to the layers of chalk which begin a few feet below the top soil, the horses appear white and shining in the sun. However, they do sometimes get dirty after a rain, so local criminals who have earned community service are made to climb the hills with a rake and turn the chalk to return it to its original luster.

The next stop was Avesbury, site of yet another mysterious stone circle. This small town had a large stone circle running through it, made up of enormous boulders. Many think this circle and trench once formed the city gates. Makes sense to me. Vick said this is where the modern day travellers (hippies) would come during the summer with their bowls and digerados (no idea how to spell it) and try and conjuer up the spirits that haunt the stone circles of the area. Oh, yea, they also steal everything they can get thier hands on. Way to go, hippies, way to go.

Near Avesbury was our second white horse sighting, this time it was the Chernhill white horse. The story of this was interesting. Apparently, a “mad doctor” commissioned a group of men to cut a horse into the ground to show off his wealth to his peers. He shouted out directions from a distance through a megaphone as the builders slaved away. The original horse had a glass eye made out of bottles, but over time they were stolen and replaced with a cement slab. Also, the mad doctor’s neighbor, not wanting to be out done, had a stone spire erected near the horse in his honor. Recently, they had to put up a gate around it so extreme sports people would stop climbing it.

A brief pitstop gave Emily her money’s worth as we took a break at Lacock Abbey, which is where the broom training scene from Harry Potter was filmed.

Our final stop was in the beautiful city of Bath. Vick dropped us off directly outside the Roman Baths, so we couldn’t pass up the chance to go inside. With audio tours in hand, we walked through the areas where the Romans used to come to bathe, heal, and socialize. Much of it is in ruins now, but the main bath and hot spring still remain. There are also areas which have only half eroded away, allowing the you to imagine what it would have been like all those years ago. The final part of the Baths tour was the chance to have a glass of water at the pump house, which came from the hot spring. It was free with our ticket so we all tried it. The girls nearly vomited but I drank the whole glass. It was warm, not overly hot, but it was heavy, with a earthy taste. It is said to contain 43 minerals, and have curative powers. How could I pass that up?

After the tour, we were a bit hungry so Vick recommended we try a Cornish Pasty, which the region is famous for. We all had one and they were delicious. It is essentially a pot pie that you hold in your hand, filled with lamb or beef, carrots, and a turnip like vegetable. It was just the thing to warm us up.

And that was that. Eight hours and 120 miles later we were back at the hostel after seeing much of Wiltshire and learning a lot about the mysterious area. The next morning we were back on a bus for Hull, and that is where I sit as I type. Today, I finished one of my classes, leaving me with 2, one on Monday and the other on Tuesday, for the next few weeks. Exactly 3 weeks from today we will be flying home- I really can’t believe we have been over here this long! This weekend will be my last adventure for the semester as I travel with Emily to Amsterdam by ferry.

As always, check in next Monday to see my review of the Netherlands and how my final weeks are going.

Cheers! (And a belated Happy Thanksgiving)

Parading ’round Paris

Last Thursday night, Caitlin and I loaded onto a bus with around 70 other ISA members headed for Paris. Well, eventually we got to Paris. First, we rode six hours to the southern tip of England to Dover, where we boarded a ferry for Calais, France. This destination provided our first sight seeing opportunity of the trip: the White Cliffs of Dover. Although we were right on the coast, in the late night setting the cliffs were more of a gray then white. Overall, it was neat to see this well known natural formation.

The ferry ride was only 90 minutes, and after that we got on yet another bus heading towards Paris. Caitlin and I both slept for an hour or so between Calais and Paris. We arrived at our hostel at 10 am on Friday the 20^th. Of course, our rooms weren’t ready so there would be no napping, so we grabbed a tourism map and made our decisions as far as what we would go see that first day.

From what we saw from the map, all of the tourist attractions were along the Sienne River, so obviously that direction was the ideal way to go. As we started walking, I immediately spotted a bakery, which offered me the opportunity to do something I had wanted to do since we had found out we were going to Paris. This, of course, was to carry around and eat a French baguette. I purchased one that looked good and we were on our way. I ate it all before our first attraction.

The first touristy stop of the day was Notre Dame Cathedral which sat on an island in the middle of the Sienne. It was quite beautiful, built in Gothic style with spiraling pillars and the iconic bell tower, which we later heard ring. We took about 100 pictures before moving on. Next on the list was the Arch de Triumph, which was constructed during the reign of Napoleon. Ironically, his empire began to crumble soon after completion and the French did not march through it in celebration of a war victory until WWI. Anyway, on the way there, we saw the courtyard of the Louvre, where we would visit the next day. We began the walk between the Louvre and the Arch, which bisected a park and featured a few fountains and a ferris wheel. After walking for about a mile, we stopped off at a small road side stand for our first taste of crepes. We both had a crepe with strawberry jam. We were pleased. Well, after walking for what seemed like another two miles, we decided to divert our trip as daylight was fading.

Our next destination was easy to find as it towered above the rest of the buildings in Paris. This, as you can tell by the clever wording, was the Eiffel Tower. The walk took a little while but was definitely worth it. The tower was huge. At the base was a small park with a pond and a band playing tunes for tips from the crowd. We hopped in the loooooonnnnnggggg line to buy a ticket to ride to the top of the tower. However, after standing in line for about 10 minutes, I noticed a sign which said the top floor was closed temporarily, and thus we wouldn’t be able to go up. I find it ironic that the one day of my entire life that I am at the Eiffel Tower the top floor is closed. Hmmm, guess its just bad luck. We hung around the base for a bit and then made our way back to the hostel.

Unfortunately, this trip didn’t go as smoothly as our walk down to the tower. Somehow, for the first time in all of our weekend vacations, we had become lost. It was weird though, we knew exactly where we were at all times by the map I was carrying, but it seemed like we kept walking in circles. All in all, it wasn’t bad since we were always in touristy areas with lots of people and lights. After trying to find our way back for about 3 hours, we hailed a taxi who took us back.   

That night Caitlin had to register for classes so that was pretty much the end of our first day in Paris.

The next day, we took some time over breakfast to calculate how far we had walked the day before. Our estimation: somewhere between 15 and 18 miles. Suffice it to say, we had had enough of walking, so we broke down and bought a metro pass for the day, which was surprisingly cheap. We took the metro to the highlighted destination of the day: the Louvre. When we arrived, there was a small crowd, but nothing that lessened the experience. We walked around the courtyard and examined the pyramids and fountains which make up the main viewing points. After purchasing our tickets, we grabbed a map to see what challenge faced us. The Louvre is huge, humongous, with countless artifacts and displays to look at. To give us a good look a the entire museum, we decided to walk to every highlighted exhibit on the map, which amounted to around 40 items spread out through the entire 4 story building. Through the 5 hours we were there, we explored every floor from end to end except the second. Really, there is too much to even mention, so I will just tell you my top three favorite works. The first was The Winged Victory of Samothrace, a large statue of an angel. The second was the statue of Aphrodite, which I’m sure you would recognize if you were to see it (which you can on my shutterfly page). And rounding out my top three was the Code of Hammurabi, which famously lays out the eye for an eye law of ancient Egypt. Although these were my favorites, there were also a lot of others to mention, namely the Mona Lisa and The Raft of Medusa.

Next we got back on the metro and rode down to the Arch de Triumph, which we had skipped the day before. It was pretty cool. Not a lot to say about that.

After going back to the hostel for a few hours, we used our metro passes one last time to go back to the Eiffel Tower, which lights up at 8 o’clock every night for ten minutes in a Las Vegas-esk light show. You definitely have to see it to understand how beautiful and complex it is. There are some pictures on my shutterfly page, but they don’t really do it justice. As we sat on a fence in awe of the illuminated choreography, I spotted a rat, then another, and another, until I counted 6. It was at this point Caitlin thought it would be a good idea to leave.

The next morning marked the beginning of our last day in Paris. I found out through another ISA member that the cemetery where Jim Morrison was buried was a short walk from our hostel. This was first on the agenda for the day so we headed that way. When we looked at the cemetery map, we also found out Oscar Wilde was also buried there, so be marked that to visit as well. The cemetery was enormous, with intricate catacombs and tomb littering every available space. After a bit of walking around, we found Jim Morrison’s grave. I expected it to be a little more like the catacombs we had seen, but it was a simple headstone and tomb without anything to fancy. It was very cool to see the area. Next we walked to the opposite end of the cemetery to see Oscar Wilde’s grave. This was more like what we had seen- a large tomb with a sophisticated design. As we approached, I noticed brown and red blotches covering the white, stone memorial. Getting closer, I saw that they were shaped like lips and sure enough, they were lipstick markings from people kissing the grave. Apparently, a lot of people do this. While we were standing there, four visitors kissed the sight. Well, when in France… Ok, we didn’t actually kiss the tomb, but we pretended.

After our cemetery visit was done, we went to a bakery and each got a tart, which was delicious. We headed back for Hull later that day.

Overall, Paris was an amazingly beautiful city, perhaps one of the cleanest we had been in since the beginning of our time here. This weekend we are staying in country, taking a bus down to Salisbury to see Stonehenge. We are at 27 days until flying back home. I really can’t believe we have less then a month left.

Check in next week to hear all about Salisbury!

Cheerio!

Roaming Rome and Friday the 13th in Naples

This passed weekend was definitely one for the record books- full of adventure, excitement, and frustration.

Last Tuesday night, the 10^th of November, Mouse, Caitlin, and I boarded a train in Hull for London. After a quick change in Doncaster and a brief ride on the London Underground to the Stansted Express, we had arrived at our final destination. It was approximately 11pm that night, and our flight to Rome Ciampino wasn’t scheduled to depart until 6:30 the next morning. We grabbed a small bite to eat at a 24 hour restaurant in the airport and set off to find a place to campout for the night. Unfortunately, about 200 people had the same idea we had so all the benches were taken, leaving only the cold floor for us to sleep on. I won’t drag out this story much longer, so let’s just say between the three of us, an hour of sleep was had (all enjoyed by Mouse).

We boarded our plane bright and early the next morning, excited to get on with the trip. The flight was uneventful, but the views over Italy were amazing.

We arrived at the Rome Ciampino airport and hailed a cab to take us to our hostel. This is how we learned that the Italians are the worst drivers in Europe and the cabs are the most overpriced in the world. Seriously thought, this cabbie made more per hour than the psychiatrist I will have to hire to get over this traumatic event. Between those two things and running on no sleep, I was close to snapping. Fortunately, we had gotten to our bed and breakfast and although the place was quaint and not quite as nice as we expected, it would do. After we broke free from the check in lady’s seemingly tireless jabber jaw, we grabbed a map and headed down towards the coliseum, which was about a 10 minute walk.

Along the way, we got to see more of Rome and figured out that even though it was kind of dirty, there were many beautiful parts. Just across the street from the coliseum was a park which we walked through which offered some unique foliage and views of the ruins. This was the first time I had seen palm trees in their natural habitat, and that was pretty cool. The weather was about 65 degrees and sunny- the day was starting to become fun.

As we approached the entrance to the coliseum it was hard to not be awestruck. After all, we have all seen pictures or heard of this monument, but to actually be there is something else. Simply to consider this massive stadium was built with bare hands made it all the more impressive. We decided to buy our tickets from a tour group outside. Numerous groups had been bombarding us trying to make the sale, and finally we found one where we actually thought we were getting our money’s worth. The tour started immediately and we got to skip the huge line of people waiting outside, which was a huge plus. We were regaled with countless facts and stories about the coliseum and those who both visited and competed in its corridors. The best part was that it hadn’t been modernized, although there were a few gift shops. So many times we have been disappointed by a castle which has been rebuilt or updated, and it was great to see that hadn’t happened. Being inside the structure was amazing, it is almost impossible to explain. It could hold 55,000 people, around 3 times what the UNI Dome can accommodate. It had three levels, two of which you could go up to and look down upon the underground maze which was now exposed due to the old wooden floor having decayed many, many years ago. Much of the white marble which had once covered the ENTIRE coliseum was gone (taken to complete the construction of the Vatican), but there were still a few remaining portions which gave you a chance to imagine what it would have been like to see the whole place glowing white in the sun. After the tour, we were given 45 minutes to roam around (ha, get it?). We took pictures, climbed the steps, and generally just soaked in the atmosphere.

Once our break was over, we met up with our tour group once again and headed to the palatine. The word palatine is where we get our present day word “palace,” which offers explanation as to what exactly it is. This is where Rome was started, after Romulus killed his brother Remus (we learned about this on the tour). Virtually anyone of political strength you can think of lived on these grounds at one time or another. Of course, now the palatine is only a vast area of ruins with portions of walls and pillars sticking out of the ground, but you can really get a feel for what it would have been like from what remains. First of all, this place was enormous, absolutely huge. Second of all, the entire palace was covered in marble (now which is at the Vatican). There is still a little bit of marble remaining on the premises, including a red marble which comes from Egypt. This red marble is said to have been depleted in the construction of the palatine. Now, the Vatican holds a monopoly on this material, and stores it on their premises just down the road. We were told that if you wanted to by one kilogram of this marble, it would cost you 80,000 pounds, or roughly $145-$150,000. Pretty nauseating huh?

The next part of the tour led us to the forum, which again is now only a bunch of ruins. The forum also covers an enormous piece of land, but it is hard to gauge since Mussolini split it in two with a road while he was in power. It has been discussed by Roman authorities that they would like to dig up the road to see what is underneath, but since the road is now a major highway leading in and out of Rome, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. No, it definitely wouldn’t be a good idea- the traffic there is awful already.

After our tour was done, we headed back to the palatine where we spent a few minutes going through Caesar’s home, which still stands today. That wrapped up our site seeing for day one.

That night we went in search of traditional Italian faire, i.e. pizza. We found a place not far from our BnB that was reasonably priced and decided to dine there. The restaurant had a deal where you could get one pizza, a salad, and a drink for 8,50 euro, which was pretty good. Now, it the US when you get a personal pan pizza, it’s probably around 10 inches. We each ordered a pizza, and when they came out, we were very surprised. Each pizza was about 14 inches, more than enough to feed one of us. But, we all stuck to our guns and finished our meals. Delicious. We each had a traditional margherita pizza, which is essentially a cheese pizza. The best part was the crust. Italian style is thin, baked in a stone oven, and it really gives the pizza a unique flavor and texture. Of course, we couldn’t end the night without dessert so we walked a little farther down the road to get some gelato. Gelato is kind of like ice cream, except thicker and creamier. I had chocolate with hazelnuts. I’m not going to go into much more detail in fear of bursting into tears at its absence in England.

The rest of the night we spent watching BBC News, the only thing on tv in English, and catching up on some sleep.

Day two started with a small breakfast at our BnB and a long walk to the Vatican. The outside was awesome, pillars rounded the courtyard area and a few fountains provided picturesque views. We wandered around outside for awhile before going into the cathedral. St Peters was beautiful, just as you would expect it to be. The ceilings were high with domed roofs which provided canvases for artists to paint gorgeous works of art. We didn’t spend much time there, as we wished to get to the Sistine Chapel. The chapel was in the Vatican Museum, so we bought our tickets to get inside and wandered the endless corridors looking at statues, tapestries, maps, and paintings, many of which had come from the coliseum and palatine. When we finally arrived at the Sistine Chapel, we were a little surprised. The main picture you think of when imagining this building is the one with God touching fingers with Adam. Although this was present, it was much smaller than I expected. The entire ceiling was made up of panels with paintings the exact same size as this one, however this one was the focal point as it was right in the middle. All in all, it was an amazing experience to see something which you hear so much about.

On our way back to the BnB, we stopped at a little restaurant and had some tortellini and bread. It was very good, and we all considered it a success. I also had pistachio and chocolate gelato that afternoon, which was the best of the trip. The rest of the day was spent stopping into shops and making our way back to the BnB for our final night’s stay.

We awoke early the next morning on Friday the 13^th to make it to the train station to catch our ride to Naples. I must point out the date, because for some reason, things were against us accomplishing what we went there for. First of all, we couldn’t get tickets for the train I originally had wanted so we arrived in Naples 2 hours later then expected. After getting overcharged for the taxi in Rome, there was no way we were going to pay for another, so we thought we would use the directions sent to me by the hostel to get there. It was supposed to be a 20 minute walk, not bad considering how far we usually walk any given day. HOWEVER, one thing we have come to find in Europe is that they do not label their streets as clearly as we do. Sometimes its only every other street, sometimes its on the side of a building, sometimes weather has eroded the stone markings. Fun stuff right? Anyway, our 20 minute walk turned into an hour and 15 minute walk, and that was with asking a hotel attendant and a cop for directions! We now at the hostel at 12:00, a full 3 hours later then expected. We quickly checked in and were told by the lovely staff that we would not be able to see both Pompeii and Mt. Vesuvius with the time we had remaining. Super. So we chose to go to Pompeii since that was the easiest. She gave us instructions on how to walk to the place where we could buy tickets. Again, she gave us the bench mark of 10 minutes from the hostel. SO we started walking, 10 minutes later, we were not at the bus station. Turns out, we had gone too far. Apparently, Americans walk faster then Italians. We back tracked and finally found where we needed to be. The bus for Pompeii had just left, so we had to wait another half hour until 1:15 to head out. Ok. Once we figured out which bus to get on, a feeling of comfort ran over me. After all, all we had to do was wait for the driver to announce our stop and get off the bus. Well, turns out the driver never announced it like we were told he would and we rode the entire route. After explaining this to the driver with a series of hand gestures and facial expressions, we figured out our stop was about halfway along the route. Super duper. At this point all we were missing was Jason Vorhees lumbering down a palm tree with a machete to finish us off. We finally decided it wasn’t worth the trouble as night was fast approaching and I had no confidence in our abilities to navigate in the dark.  So we rode all the way back to Naples, passing the Pompeii ruins and Vesuvius on the way. At least we got to see them from the bus so the day wasn’t a total loss.

After being dropped off about 10 minutes from the hostel, we went out and explored the areas nearest to where we would be bunking for the night as to not get lost. The day got better and we all relaxed as we stopped into shops and picked a pizzeria to eat at. The place was called Osteria Pizzeria and it was a great experience. During our trip we found that most people could understand a little English, but few actually spoke it. Well, the pizzeria we were at was authentic Italia. By this I mean the menu was in Italian, and everyone who worked there neither understood or spoke English. Oh, and the owner was a big Italian guy with the top 3 buttons of his shirt undone so you could see his chest hair curling around his giant golden cross necklace. Yea, now we’re talking. Anyways, we found the section labeled “Pizze” in the menu and assumed that was pizza, but had no idea what anything on the pizzas were. Cait chose what appeared to be cheese and mushroom, and I just pointed at one and crossed my fingers. Turns out we were both right in our choices. Cait’s was what she expected and mine turned out to be a pizza with formaggio and mozzarella cheese, basil leaves, and a smoky, really thinly sliced ham (the actual name escapes me at the moment) . Mouse, however, had wanted spaghetti and sure enough, it was on the menu so that’s what he ordered. Well, he ordered spaghetti von gollo, which does not mean spaghetti and meatballs. In fact, I would say it means nothing close to that, because when the brought out his plate it did have spaghetti noodles, but where the marinara sauce and meat should have been there were instead a herd of oysters, cooked but still in the shell. Not exactly what any of us expected but he enjoyed it so all was well.

After polishing off our enormous pizzas, we went in search of gelato, which is much harder to find in Naples then in Rome.  Eventually we came across some and yet again it was wonderful.

After our day of ups and downs we went back to the hostel and talked to few other guests that were staying there. Best part: we had a tv and dvd player in our room AND they had American movies is English. We took advantage of the opportunity and watched a few movies before going to bed.

The next day was a lot of travel again. We took a train back to Rome where we met up with Emily and her family who is still there spending some time enjoying Italy. It was nice to see some familiar faces from home and catch up. Our visit was short as we quickly boarded a bus to get out to the airport. The flight back to London was delayed a few minutes due to the rain and 100 mph winds they had been having in England that day. We got back into London around 7 pm Saturday night and had until 9 am the next morning to wait for our train ride back to Hull. Although it wasn’t very comfortable, we all got some sleep in the airport that night.

Whew, well we are back in Hull. Classes are going well and it is hard to believe we only have 4 more weeks of school! Caitlin and I are going to Paris this weekend with the International Student Association. We are both really excited, but I must say, I can’t wait because this is the one trip I didn’t have to book

Cheerio!  (and Ciao from Italy!)

Going Postal in Dublin

Hello all, it has been quite a while since my last post, and much has happened in the time between commentaries.

First of all, our “no travel weekend” was a success, I finished my 500 word American Art paper, my 3000 word Religions in Antiquity paper, and did research for 2 out of my 3 Buyer Behavior workshops. Virtually all I have to do the rest of the semester is study for my finals. Talk about coasting through the next 6 weeks. After that was done, however, I still had 4 days until our next trip. It was quite boring, you don’t want to hear about it.

Moving the fun stuff on Wednesday Nov. 4 we started out on our next trip which would take us to Dublin, Ireland, home of everything Irish, including taxi driver’s who when they go out to drink, they “drink til they fall on the floor, get up, and do some more.” And yes, that is a direct quote from our taxi driver, a very nice fellow who was in fact NOT drunk while driving us around. Anyway, our trip started from the Hull train station, from which we rode the rails to Leeds, which was about a 45 minute ride. We then boarded the airbus to the Leeds Bradford International Airport. This is where the story gets a little sticky. Our departure time was 10 pm, we had been dropped off at the airport around 6. There were no check ins open so we went to information and asked what we should do. I presented my pre printed boarding pass and they said, “Well then your all checked in, just go through security.” Super. So we went, the man at the front of the security station scanned and looked over all of our boarding passes, and we began to march through the metal detectors. Emily, Cait and I all got thru fine, Mouse was a different story. We don’t really know what set off the metal detector, but regardless, it did. Of course, Mouse was mad, but it was a good thing that security made him present his boarding pass. You see, all Non- European Union residents must have a stamp on thier boarding passes from Ryanair before going thru security. Without this, you will be denied entry to the plane. This was a fact that I did know, and had actually said something to Cait about it by the info table. Yet, for some reason the person at the info table who looked at my boarding pass with my name and place of residence printed in size 152 bolded font at the top, and the person scanning at the beginning of security who looked at not only my boarding pass, but my PASSPORT, failed to note that we did not have said stamp. So, a nice gentleman from security escorted us back to the check in for Ryanair, which was still not open. I have to pause on that point for a moment. The security officer was IN FACT very nice about it. He was quick to apologize for 2 people completely missing this detail, and tried to square away our situation. So thanks to you, big, bald, angry security man, I toast my Guiness to you. He informed us that we still had about an hour before before check in would begin, so he recommended we go to one of the bars in the airport and have a drink. Well, we didn’t have a drink, but we did go sit and have a decent meal at one of the restaurant and all calmed down from the ordeal.

Right around 8 pm we went back down to the check in table and waited about 15 minutes as the first in line to meet with the person would would resolve the matter. Of course, when she arrived, we explained what had happened, and she couldn’t comprehend it so she had to call her manager. However, she did not call her manager right away. You see, by this time, a line of about 25 people had formed behind us, and she thought she would check in all of them while we waited for a half hour for her to make a phone call. My frustration was mounting. The main reason for all of this trouble was the numbskull who scanned our boarding passes. Since he had already scanned our papers into the system, we could not go back through with them, we needed new ones. I read on the Ryanair website that if you needed a pass reprinted, it would cost 40 pounds, or right around $70. By this point, had her manager made us pay to reprint a pass, I probably would have set her on fire. But, lucky for us and her, she was nice and printed our new passes for free, gave us the required stamp, and moved onto security, where Mouse promptly set off the metal detector again. And again, he wasn’t happy.

We had finally made it through security around 9:15, over 3 hours after we had arrived at the airport. Once our gate was announced we headed down to the correct terminal. Now, for those of you who have never heard of Ryanair, it is a discount airline which prides itself on the lowest fares around. Hence many of the problems we had prior to boarding, but I digress. After we had handed off our new boarding passes and shown our passports at the gate, we were permitted to board the plane. Thank God. Unlike all other flights I had been on, we had to walk outside to get on the plane, which was a 737. As we sat in the Pergatory that is an airplane awaiting departure, something unusual happened. As soon as the final person had gotten on and taken a seat, we began moving, a full 15 minutes before scheduled departure. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy to be leaving early, but I consider airplane travel to be a very concisely scheduled operation and was a little weirded out we were heading out early. But, everything turned out fine, no in air collisions, no blocked landing areas. I expected the flight to be around an hour to an hour and a half with wait on the ground. Nope. From the time I sat down to the time I walked off the plane: 35 minutes. Wow. Passport control was a breeze and we went and waited for the taxi I had prebooked to arrive.

About 12:15 am on Nov 5, we got into a taxi with one Mr. Gerrard Kelly, the man who I quoted earlier in the passage. As with all of the cabbies we have had, he was very nice and told us about all of the things to go see and do in Dublin. He talked the entire 20 minute ride to the hostel, which was fine because we were tired.

Well there you have it, a 45 minute train ride, a 25 minute bus ride, a 35 minute plane ride, and a 20 minute taxi ride and we were in Dublin. Easy peasy. Its worth mentioning that we spent 2 hours and 5 minutes travelling and 6 and a half hours waiting to travel that first night.

The Four Courts Hostel was a very nice place, rated number 8 in the world by Hostelworld users, which I am. We checked in and went to our room, which we found to be great, especially since this was the first place we had our own private bathroom. The view from our room was pretty cool. It looked out over the River Liffey and the Four Courts building, which can both be seen on my shutterfly page.

We slept well that first night and awoke the next morning to dine in style on the free cereal and toast awaiting us in the kitchen. That first morning, the weather was nice, and we just did a lot of walking around. We saw the Christchruch Cathedral and countless bars and shops in the famous area known as Temple bar. After popping in and out of a few places, we decided to head down to the Guiness Storehouse, perhaps the highlight of our trip. It was easy to find, located about a mile from our hostel. I was pleasantly surprised at how interesting the tour was. It was self guided, and as you walked up the several stories built inside the world’s largest pint glass, you learned how Guiness was made, the history, and about the advertising of the company. All in all it was very informative and entertaining. At the top of the building is a place called the Gravity Bat where you can redeem your ticket for a free pint of Guiness. Not only did you get a free pint, the bar is circular and the walls are completely made up of windows, giving you a panoramic view of Dublin. Mouse and I went up to the bar and watched them pull our Guiness from the tap. It is a very cool thing to watch. First, they fill the pint glass up to the top and let it sit so it can “settle.” They put the glass on the bar so we could watch it, and it actually quite hypnotizing. Continuous waves of golden amber flowed from the top of the glass to the bottom, gradually stopping at a layer higher and higher from the bottom of the glass until all that is left is a dark red (so dark it looks black) liquid with hazelnut fudge colored foam on top. Once this process is done, the bartender tops it off and it is yours. I think the old lady who gave it to me thought I was good looking because she sketched a shamrock in the foam while whe was topping it off. We headed back to the table and waited for the last of the beer to settle and took our first drink. I’m not much of a beer fan, especially anything bitter, but I am pleased to say that I really enjoyed my first Guiness. It tasted almost like a cold espresso to me, which was good. I liked it so much that I got another with my meal the next day.

After polishing of the last of our pints, we went back down to the Temple Bar area and went in some shops, burning some time before we went for an early dinner. Around 4 o’clock, we ducked inside a restaraunt in Temple Bar called the Gallagher, and after looking at the menu decided to dine there. My meal was delicious, made up of two courses. The first was a potato and leak soup with sodabread, and the next was a grilled pork chop with a apple glaze on mashed potatoes. I know, I know, that isn’t overly adventurous but what can I say, it was cheap and calling my name.

The next morning we checked out of Four Courts and went on to our next hostel. Along the way, we stopped by St Patricks Cathedral and walked through the garden there. It was beautiful with green grass and a fountain in the middle. Needless to say we spent 20 minutes taking pictures. After that, we walked to Dublin Castle. Unfortunatley, upon arrival we found out that not only was it most modernized, it cost to get in. No thanks. The outside was ok to look at though. We then walked across O’Connell Bridge, which was neat because it is the same length and width (Gerry the cabbie told us that). Walking up O’Connel Street was interesting, there were a ton of restaraunts and shops to stop in. There was also an enormous metal spike called the Spire which juts into the sky in the middle of the street. Fortunately,at this time, it wasn’t raining so we stopped and took some pictures.

Our hostel was just off of O’Connel street, so we checked in, took a break from the rain, and sat and talked in the tv room. Once the heaviest rain had let up, we headed back out to do some shopping and exploring. We went one direction and didn’t really find what we were looking for, so we walked back to O’Connell street, taking about a 10 minute break to stand under an overhang to get out of the down pour which had started again. The rest of the afternoon consisted of walking in and out of stores and finding a place to eat that evening. During the time we spent walking, we found a restaraunt called The Celt, which had Irish Stew for cheap, so we went inside. After enjoying a Guiness, we ordered our meals. We all got Irish Stew, which is stew with lamb, carrots, onions, and celery in it. The broth had kind of a tomatoey taste to it, which I enjoyed. However, my meal did not stop there. Since the beginning of the trip, I had been looking for Crubeens, a traditional Irish delicacy. Crubeens are pig’s feet which are boiled in a broth containing similar ingredients as the stew, then grilled with a Celtic Glaze. I really had no idea what to expect when I ordered them. When my crubeens came out on the plate, I instantly regretted ordering the stew as well. On the plate was a pile of mashed potatoes, and one crubeen, probably the size of a 3 year olds head. So much food. I cut through the half inch of fat which surrounded the meat and took a healthy sized bite of meat with a little fat for flavor. The taste: ham. It simply tasted like ham, perhaps a little sweeter from the glaze. This was probably the tenderest ham I have ever eaten, and it was amazing. I really couldn’t tell it was a pig’s foot, but that’s probably a good thing. I did my best and finished most of my meal, which resulted in a wicked night for sleeping.

Again, we returned to the hostel relatively early to take advantage of the tv room and relax while watching some of our favorite American shows.

The next morning we got up at 3:55 am, yes that’s not a typo, five minutes to four in the morning to catch our flight. This time everything went much, much smoother.

Well, we are back in Hull now, just enjoying the good life of having absolutely nothing to do for school. Caitlin, Mouse, and I are taking off for Italy early Wednesday morning, which I am extremely excited about. I have some pretty cool things in mind for what to do while there, so be sure to check next week to see how everything went down.

Cheerio.

Wow, I completely forgot to mention the reasoning for my title. Besides the craziness encountered getting to Dublin, there was a postal workers strike going on which closed down one side of O’Connell street for about an hour while people marched down the road. It was pretty interesting.

Cheerio, again.

Boats, Bruges, and Belgians

Well, last weeks trip turned out to be quite the experience.

We decided to use a new mode of transportation for last weekend’s trip. Having used planes, taxis, trains, and buses, we thought a boat would be a nice change of pace. This was convenient since Hull is a port city and the ferry would leave 10 minutes from our apartment.

Wednesday evening we gathered our belongings and headed down to the city center to hail a cab to take us to the port. Although I was fairly confident we weren’t going to be boarding a small shrimp boat having to work our way across the English channel, I wasn’t exactly sure of the conditions our ferry would be in. Don’t get me wrong, I did the sufficient amount of research to ensure that it would be safe and we would arrive at our destination in a timely manner, but it did seem oddly cheap compared to our other trip tickets. We arrived at the port and checked in. After showing our passports and boarding passes 4 times, we were finally admitted entry onto the ship. Once I walked thru the doors off the stern deck, my worries instantly vanished. The ship was gorgeous, with simple luxuries that would provide us with a comfortable trip. First of all, the ferry was enormous. Inside, there were numerous sitting areas to relax and watch the waves, a cafe for grabbing a quick tea or sandwhich, a store which sold everything from candy to perfume to designer sunglasses, a liquor store, a movie theater, a casino, and two gormet restaraunts. Not too shabby.  However, we had yet to see our room. Yet again, we had nothing to worry about. The room was small, but had 4 surfaces for sleeping and a bathroom. We were pleased.

Before we even left dock, we thought it would be a good idea to go find dinner. Well, we chose the Four Seasons Buffet, which was expensive, but amazing. We sat down and began eating at 5:55 and didn’t stop until 7:05.  A solid one hour and ten minutes of eating ensured we got our money’s worth. Here’s a list of what I had:  2 Sausages, mashed potatoes, green beans, yorkshire pudding, gravy, roast beef, chicken, beef and ale pie, fish, fries, baked beans, spaghetti, meatballs, raw salmon, lettuce salad, grapes, crackers, cheese (to be touched on in a bit), three layer chocolate cake, and a fruit tart. Seriously, my stomach would have burst had I been poked in the right spot. Now onto the cheese. On every trip we have been on, I have made it a point to try new foods and have been successful. On the cold foods line at the buffet, there were a few different kinds of cheese. I got one of each to try since I don’t have a very sophisticated cheese pallet. The first three were fine, edible but nothing great. The last, however, has tainted my view of cheese forever. This cheese was white with flecks of green mold dispersed throughout the hard, stale block. I cut the small chunk into four pieces so we each could have a go at it. We made the mistake of smelling it first. It smelled EXACTLY like cow manure. Not exaggerating a bit. So, we all stuck it in our mouths and chewed. Emily was the first to show her discontent, quickly followed by Caitlin, Mouse, and then myself. How can I describe this? The journey of this cheese was kind of like riding a slip and slide on a hot summer day and upon reaching the end, you slam face first into a pile of freshly deposited dog waste. Ya, just like that. At first, the cheese wasn’t bad. Just different. And then it got bad, really bad. Then you swallowed to escape the flavor, but it remained and grew in strength. Water would not soften it, only time. Turns out, cheese tastes exactly as it smells. Note to self: no more experimenting with cheese. 

The rest of the evening, we explored the boat and turned in for our first night sleeping on a ferry.

We awoke the next morning at the dock in Zeebrugge, Belgium. Thru a chain of buses, we eventually reached our hostel in Bruges. We grabbed a city map at the front desk and planned our sight seeing schedule for the next few days.

Our first stop for the trip was a the Fry Museum. On the way, we experienced some of the amazing architecture Bruges is home to. I especially enjoyed the views along the canal which ran around the city center. The Fry Museum actually turned out to be a very interesting experience. Turns out, fries actually originated in Belgium, not France. People speculate that the reason we call them frech fries is because American soldiers were offered fries by French speaking Belgians in WWI and the name stuck. This was just one of the facininating fry facts I learned during our visit. The museum was literally a shrine to everything fry related: potatoes, cutters, fryers, kips, forks, the list goes on. At the end of the tour, we obviously had to have some fries so the four of us ordered two kips of fries to share. A kip is a piece of wax paper or carboard rolled to create a cone to put the fries in, then, the eater can dump all the sauces they want on top and carry it along with them while walking. To top it off, we were given tiny forks (they were actually tritons, forks have 4 prongs, tritons have 3 and are used for ruling the seven seas… and apparently eating french fries) to eat our fries with. They were very good. Their unique taste was attributed to the beef tallow they were fried in, rather than the vegetable oil I was accustomed to.

Next stop was the Basilica of Holy Blood. Legend has it that a piece of cloth with Jesus’s blood is kept in the church here and holds significant meaning to those of Catholic faith. The inside was beautiful and as churchs go it was quite a sight.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent stopping in virtually every chocolate store we saw, which had to have numbered into the 20 range. But, when you are in the chocolate capitol of the world, its hard to pass up the opportunity. Emily bought a 2.2 pound box of chocolate and Caitlin bought one which was probably about half that size. That night, we sampled several of the pieces. It was probably the best chocolate I have ever tasted, but for me, a little chocolate goes a long way.

The next morning, we got up and went out to eat and finally fulfilled Caitlin’s only reason for coming to Belgium: we ate Belgian waffles. We got to eat outside in the shadow of an enormous clock tower in the Markt square in the heart of Bruges, which all in all led to a pretty cool experience. As for our waffle choices, Cait went with fruit and whipped cream, Em got ice cream and chocolate sauce, and Mouse and I chose the cheap alternative and had powered sugar and butter. The best waffles I have ever tasted. They were crisp on the outside and moist on the inside, and well worth the euros that went into procuring them.

Next, we were off to the Chocolate Story, a museum devoted to the chocolatey history of Belgium. Much like the Fry Museum, it was choc(olate) full of interesting facts. Perhaps the coolest part was seeing the chocolate statues resident chefs had made to display. You can see pictures on my shutterfly page. The biggest work was a 110 kg chocolate egg. Seems to me like the chef took the easy route and just molded an oval out of chocolate, but who am I to judge.

Just down the road was the next highlight of the day, Michelangelo’s Madonna and Child.We walked to the area where we thought it should be, but it was nowhere to be found. On a whim, we ducked into a Cathedral to see if it was inside, and sure enough, there it was. The statue was quite amazing, but the cathedral itself was even more impressive. Its hard to describe all of the things we saw inside, so just make it easy on me and go to my shutterfly page and look at it for yourself. Overall, this was probably one of the most beautiful buildings I have ever been in.

As if we hadn’t seen enough candy already, we started off towards a candy store called Zucceros, which surprisingly doesn’t sell chocolate. Instead, they specialize in hard candy, made right there in front of you in the store. Unfortunately, we were a little late to see them pull the sugar, but we did get to see them cutting the long strips of hardened candy into smaller bite sized pieces. Upon further inspection, each candy they made had a small design in the center which portrayed the flavor of the piece. Anything from kiwi to peaches to coffee was featured. They even made some with your name in it or for special occasions. We all, of course, bought some to bring home.

To please Emily and Mouse, we went out to eat at Pizza Hut Belgium for dinner. They definitely skimpped on the toppings, but it did the job.

The next day was pretty much ate up with travel and waiting to travel and we boarded the boat later that evening.

We are now back in Hull and preparing to write our papers and study for our tests. We have decided to take a vacation from our vacations for this weekend, but next week we will be travelling to Dublin to see the wonders of Ireland. I’m not sure if I will be blogging next Monday, but just in case, check in to see what exciting developments were stirred up at the University of Hull Brynmor Jones Library!

Cheerio.

The Descent… and ascent… and descent… and ascent… etc.

First of all, I apologize for my tardiness with this blog, yesterday was a long day.

As the developing pattern is beginning to state, Monday thru Wednesday of last week were pretty uneventful. Went to class, planned a few weekend trip, ate, slept, read. Enough on that.

Our trip for last weekend was scheduled to take us a wee bit under 11 hours by bus. I don’t know if any of you have ever travelled extended distances by bus, but let me tell you, we were not looking forward to it. Regardless, we showed up to the bus station in Hull around 915 am, prepared for our 10 am departure. As always, the bus arrived a few minutes prior to our departure time, we boarded, and settled in. In fear of boring you into blog induced coma, I will not go into much detail about this ride. However, I will mention that unlike our previous trips (i.e. to Scotland) where the scenery was majestic and awe inspiring, the vast majority of this journey was dull. It was only when we had crossed the country lines between England and Wales that there was much of anything to look at, and even then, dark was quickly falling upon us, thus the excitement was short lived.

We were dropped off directly outside the Pembroke Castle at 845 pm, signalling the end of our “to Wales” ride. So there we were, it was nighttime, and the town was silent. This was something we really weren’t used to since all of our previous trips had been to bigger cities where the nights were lively and bustling- you could say it was a pleasant change (for now). I knew we had to walk east down main street, so, we headed the direction which I felt was correct and began to look for the golden “78″ house number nailed to a door. The walk was surprisingly short- we had arrived at the Beech House Bed and Breakfast before 9 pm.  

I rang the doorbell, no answer. Great, we travelled all this way and we couldn’t even get into our accomodation. Well, I’m glad to say that wasn’t the case, and soon the proprietor of the establishment, Anne, greeted us at the door. Anne was probably around 60 years old, several inches shorter than I, and sporting a red overcoat and glasses. She spoke with a thick Welsh accent, which we fortunately could understand. She immediatley showed us inside, and we were amazed at what we had encountered. If you’ll recall, in our previous excursions, we had always stayed in hostels. Hostels are fine, in terms of they offer a place to sleep that is safe, fairly comfortable, and occasionally even offer a free breakfast of toast and cereal. Pretty much the bare necessities and cheap- good enough for us. Well, the Beech House was not a hostel, it was a bed and breakfast. I had stumbled upon it while doing some research on Pembroke and it seemed like a decent place for the same price as the hostels we had been staying in. Upon stepping inside the front door, I instantly realized it was much better then “decent.” This was Anne’s home, she had spent years decorating and caring for the property, and it was incredibly evident. First things first, we were given a tour of the b & b. Directly to the left when walking thru the front door was the pool room. Dressed in blue, this room offered guests free games of pool, a vast literary collection, and records to listen to. Across the hall was the sitting room with a welcomed long lost friend, a tv with cable. Next to the upstairs. We were given two bedrooms for the night. The whole place had a homey ambiance, which is hard to describe. For pictures, check out my shutterfly page- I highly recommend it.

We had yet to eat dinner, so we headed back out to grab a bite to eat. Unfortunately, there was only one place open at 9 o’clock at night, a kebab and pizza place. The food was moderate, and the clientel was less than welcoming. Still, it was good to finally have something to eat. 

After our meal, we went back to the b & b and turned into the night. 

The nest morning we arose around 8am, breakfast was served at 830. Caitlin and Emily beat me downstairs and were already eating when I made my way to the dining room, which we hadn’t seen last night and was equally impressive as the rest of the house. Upon entering, I looked at my options: fruit, cereal, milk, and juice. Pretty standard. Shortly after I had gathered some corn flakes and juice, Anne brought in some tea and coffee. I was satisfied, but Anne quickly asked, “Everyone for bacon and eggs?” Of course we were, after all it had been awhile since we had had a hot breakfast. We waited paciently as Anne prepared our meals in the kitchen. When she walked in with our plates, we were silenced. It was much more than we had expected. We were being treated to a traditional English breakfast: tea, coffee, toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, tomato, and baked beans. It was delicious, but weird. I wasn’s used to having tomatoes, mushrooms, and baked beans for breakfast. Take a guess and see if you can figure out who out of me, Cait, and Emily was the only one to finish it all and then some……. You were probably wrong: Caitlin. Whoda thunk it?

With full stomachs, we were off to sight see. The main attraction for the day was the Pembroke Castle, where we had been dropped off the night before. Along the way to the castle, we stopped in a few shops and browsed for a while, looking at all the traditional Welsh items.

The castle was pretty cool. Unlike the Edinburgh Castle, it hadn’t been modernized and had far less people visiting. While visiting, we were allowed to climb up steps in the towers, walk across bridges, and pretty much explore any area that wasn’t chained off. I actually liked this much more than the Edinburgh Castle, which surprised me. One of my favorite parts was climbing to the top of the Great Tower, 101 stone steps straight upwards. The vantage point at the top gave you a great look at the town of Pembroke and all the castle facilities. Perhaps my next favorite part was the castle cave, which was situated underground. This had been a home to people from the prehistoric period all the way until the castle had been abandoned. All in all, it was a very entertaining 2 hours.

The rest of the afternoon we spent walking around town and eventually decided it was time to eat, the time was 3 pm. At 3 pm in Pembroke, you are lucky to find food. Yet again, we only found one place that was open. Yet again, the food was moderate. However, in scouring the area to find somewhere to eat we did discover a decent place that started serving at 7, so we decided to attend their facilities later that night.

Once we had eaten, we headed back to the b & b to relax for a few hours before going to get a real meal.

Now, at 7pm on Friday night, we went to the restaurant we had found earlier that day. Fortunately, the food was more than moderate. I chose moraccan lamb, which was ok, and the girls each had grilled scallops, which they were thoroughly impressed with.

Mouse was scheduled to arrive later that night, so we burnt some time playing pool and watching tv waiting for him to show up. He did show up, but only after getting off the bus at the wrong stop in the wrong town and walked 4 miles to get to the b & b. Yes, that’s a true story.

The next morning we were yet again treated to the huge English breakfast. This time, however, we were joined by a couple from Cambridge who had arrived the prior evening. We spent an hour or so talking to them about our lives back home and theirs in the UK. Very interesting.

Off to our next stop we were. A bus called the Coastal Cruiser was leaving Pembroke at 10 am to go to the coast. This bus had about 15 stops, and you could pay to ride all day, getting on and off as you pleased. Anne highly recommended this as a way to see the coast of Wales, and since she hadn’t led us astray thus far, we decided to go for it. She said we should definitely go to Freshwater West, so that was the plan.

We boarded the bus, which was actually more of a large van and headed towards the coast. To put it lightly, the ride was very rough. It was bumpy, curvey, and constant stop and go. As the trip progressed, I noticed Mouse’s color begin to drain from his face. For his sake, I suggested we get off at the first stop, West Angle Beach, rather than Freshwater West, which was another 20 minutes away. The scenary was gorgeous so all were in agreement. We spent the next hour or so walking on the small beach and seeing how far we could climb out onto the rocks which extended out into the sea. The water was very clear and blue, the sun was out, it was a good day thus far.  West Angle Beach is part of the Pembrokeshire National Park, which is also made up of the Coastal Walk National Park. Considering we wouldn’t be good travellers if we stuck to one spot, so we just started to walk. After walking for about a mile, we looked ahead, and only saw industrial areas, so we turned back, we prefered to see nature instead of smoke stacks. So, one mile out, one mile back to West Angle beach. We stopped for ice cream at a small cafe on the beach and looked at a sign to see where the next area would be for a bus stop. In the opposite direction of our original hike was Freshwater West, pretty convenient since that is where Anne told us to head. However, this hike was 5.5 miles. Hmm. It was 1230, the next bus left Freshwater West at 238, giving us 2 hours and 8 minutes to walk less than 6 miles. Not bad right? After all, we all walk fast and could probably bust out one mile every 12-15 minutes. My estimation, however, did not take into effect the terrain of the hike. More on that later. With my seemingly undisputable math skills proving we would make it on time with a good half hour for relaxing, we began. At first all was well. We walked along the cliffs of Wales, seeing the ocean on one side, and farms with cows, horses, and sheep on the other. It was a beautiful layout and the tense feelings which were evidently prevalent at the onset were now fading. This changed quickly. We came to our first hill. When I say hill, I mean 150-200 yards STRAIGHT down on a path that was literaly 18 inches wide, 6 inches deep, and carved into the grasses of the cliff areas. We made it down without too much trouble, but then had to go up- herein lies the problem. The walk up was on the same type of path, zig zagging up the face of the hill. By the time we scaled the mountain-esk face, we were a bit tired. The remaining 4.5 miles were like this (hence the name of my blog). By the end of it, Mouse and I were 100 yards in front of the girls, none of us were friends anymore, and our only focus was getting to the bus. When we finally made it to the beach, it was an amazing sight. Too bad we didn’t get to relax and take it all in. We arrived at the bus stop at 235, 3 minutes early. The girls arrived at 240, we held the bus for them. The bus ride home started silent, but we soon realized what we had just accomplished and the stress subsided and we were friends again.

When we got back to Pembroke, Mouse and I went to the Castle Store for a bit while the girls headed to the b & b. Mouse and I got back to the b & b about 15 minutes after they had, and by that time, Cait was already in the shower and Emily was passed out in bed. The rest of the day pretty much consisted of recovering, which was fine, we all needed it.

That night we yet again spent an hour or so trying to find the only restaurant that was open in the entire town. We succeeded… eventually.

We departed Pembroke at 7am on a bus towards Hull. Yet again, the ride was fairly uneventful, except for when we arrived to Birmingham, where we were supposed to have a 40 minute lay over to catch our next bus. Due to delays, we actually had an hour and 45 minute lay  over, and when you’ve been on a bus all day and still have 4 hours to go, doesn’t really sit well. But it was all worth it, because in this bus station we saw the single most crazy person I have ever seen. I say person, because I honestly don’t know if this person was a man or woman. They were wearing female clothes and had a kind of female face with make up, so we will say woman. She had eyelashes that were at least 3 inches long, had glitter and “showtime” makeup all over her face, lips that clearly had way too much cologen, and was holding a big silver trophy and a hula hoop. Oh yea, did I mention she was vigorously arguing with herself the whole time we were there. I could give my opinion of who she was or where she came from, but I think I will let you have this taste tid bit to mold as you wish. You’re welcome.

We eventually made it back to Hull, and that’s where I sit now. Classes are done for the week as it is now 630 on Tuesday night, and we leave for our next vacation tomorrow night at 7 from the Hull docks. We are experimenting with a new mode of transportation: the ferry. We will leave at 7 tomorrow night and get to Bruges, Belgium at 9 the next morning. It should be fun.

Pictures are up at codyspicts.shutterfly.com so go take a look.

That’s all for now, check in next week to see how many Belgian waffles Caitlin can eat in one sitting. Any guesses?

Cheerio.

I’m eating what?!? And my pilgramage

Oh, what a week it has been… Be prepared, this potentially could get quite lengthy.

First things first, I finally started classes last Monday which means I went approximately 5 months without sitting in a classroom, by far my longest sabbatical from the guise of a teacher in my short life. My first class, Religions in Antiquity, starts at 1215 on Mondays and runs until around 2. After sitting in the class for two weeks now, I am a little disturbed that I will be required to do so for the next 9 weeks. The prof obviously knows his stuff, but I am just not getting into it. Also, college is run a little differently here than in the US. Here, students choose a program (ie theology, marketing, history, etc.) and the course map is set for them for their 3 years. No liberal arts, nothing waivering from their subject. That is all fine and good, but when I’m sitting in a class full of theology majors knowing little to nothing about what the prof is talking about, it can get a little frustrating. Moving on. For that class, we have a few group reports to give ( I literally think there is only 2) and a 3000 word essay over a reading of our choice. That’s it. Next on Mondays I have Buyer Behavior, running from 215 to 415. Let’s just say this is my saving grace for Monday afternoons. This is a marketing course so I feel right at home and genuinely enjoy the material and the professor. However, the lecture this afternoon was split in two, both halves of class featuring a different prof. The first, I had had before, and I like. The next, on the other hand, I did not enjoy. She meant well and I am confident that with a doctorate in marketing, she definitely knew her stuff, but I frankly couldn’t understand a word she said. I did translate that she was originally from Glasgow, Scotland. Fair enough, I literally just got back from Scotland yesterday  and I could understand most people. However, she was also Chinese. So, she had a weird Scottish-Chinese-English hybrid accent going on, and I was having no part of it. Hopefully I don’t have her for anymore lectures, but I suspect I won’t be that lucky. Anyway, my grade for that class is based off of one poster project and an exan My final class for the week, American Art, is on Tuesday afternoons at 315 and runs until 515. The prof for that class is pretty laid back and he actually kept my attention for our first meeting; hopefully the trend continues. The grade for this is made up of one 500 word essay and a 2 essay exam. Amazingly, that’s all, six hours of class in two days and I’m done. 

Now onto the interesting stuff. I was finally starting to get over the flu or whatever it was I had picked up so my excitement for the trip was growing. We hadn’t really set in stone our plans for the weekend until Tuesday. Originally, we were going to head to Salisbury, England and see Stonehenge, but Cait found a site where you could book private tours of the ruins and even walk inside the stones, but you had to schedule a month in advance. We decided that would be better than standing behind a rope and taking pictures so plans were scrapped. I did some digging and found that we could still book everything we needed for a weekend in Scotland, and the best weekend trip thus far was born. I will quickly point out that due to class happenings, Mouse was unable to attend this particular expedition. However, do not fret for him, he will be visiting later this semester. I booked bus tickets for Cait, Em, and I for Edinburgh, Scotland. Although this city would be a good stopping point, it was merely a pit stop on my pilgramage to walk the grasses of golf’s mecca- the Old Course at St Andrews. I found train tickets from Edinburgh to St Andrews, booked them, then proceded to find accomodation for our three night stay. All the ground work had been laid.

We left the Hull bus station at 9 Thursday morning on a National Express charter bus headed for our destination seven and a half hours away. The ride was uneventful. I find it funny that no matter how tired I am on the bus or train, I can never fall asleep. In fact, if I close my eyes for a moment I quickly sit up and prevent myself from falling asleep. The best way I can explain why I do this is simply because I am afraid I will miss seeing something along the route. I wasn’t disappointed. Whereas our previous trips had been mainly through cities, this one took us through northern England, then drove along the southeastern coast of Scotland before reaching Edinburgh. The view was amazing- just like in the movies, with waves crashing against cliffs, herds of sheep grazing in almost death defying positions, and farmers walking their crops- with their border collie right by their side. Just think, had I fallen asleep, I would have missed all of that. Pretty good reason to skip the nap, huh?

By the time we arrived in Edinburgh, the sun was beginning to set. Since we had absolutely no idea where anything was in the city, we hailed a cab and he took us right to the West End Hostel, where we would spend the next two nights. We had a private 3 bed room, which is by far superior to sharing a room with a stranger so if you’re ever staying in a hostel, I recommend it. Our first quest of the trip started soon after: our quest for traditional Scottish fayre. Continuing our tradition of eating local cuisine, we found a restaraunt not far from our hostel called the Sizzlin Scot. Surely they would have what we were looking for. We sat down, and to our surprise, we actually had a waiter, something we hadn’t had since we left the states. He was very nice and talked to us about our home and told us some sites to see the next day. I peered at the menu, searching for one thing and one thing only- haggis. It really doesn’t get much more culinarily Scottish than a plate of hot haggis and tatties. Sure enough, I found it. Honestly, I really wasn’t sure if I would be able to stomach it, so I ordered a smaller portion as an appetizer for all of us to try and decided on yet another Scottish dish for my main meal, lamb chops with a sweet glaze and mashed potatoes. When the moment came that the waiter brought us the haggis, a silence fell over the table. It looked, well, interesting. To see for yourself, go to my shutterfly page at codyspicts.shutterfly.com and look in the Scotland album. Three columns of food stood on the plate: one of mashed potatoes, another of mashed sweet potatoes, and the piece de la resistance (probably misspelled), haggis. Although all of us had an idea of the chief ingredient of haggis- sheep stomach- we really weren’t certain of everything that made it up. We debated as to whether or not to ask the waiter or google it later. In the interest of actually keeping the courage to eat it, we decided to look online later. We all took our first bite of hot haggis- just sounds appetizing, doesn’t it? The texture was creamy, savory, with a salty, gamey flavor, followed up with a spicey finish. I’m happy to say we ate it all. Cait and I actually really enjoyed it. Em kept it at one bite and called it quits. We continued on with our main course. What I believe was my first lamb experience was awesome. The meat was extremely tender, and the glaze accompanied it very well with an almost apricot-esk sweetness. Unfortunately, the girls were not as happy with their steaks. What can I say, you just don’t get beef like Iowa beef over here.

After our meals we returned to the hostel, and yes, we did look up what is in haggis. From the recipies we found, here is what appears to be a standard ingredient list and prepatory guide:

1 sheep’s stomach bag
1 sheep’s pluck – liver, lungs and heart
3 onions
250g beef Suet (kidney fat) 
150g oatmeal
salt and black pepper
a pinch of cayenne
150mls of stock/gravy

1. Clean the stomach bag thoroughly and soak overnight. In the morning turn it inside out.

2. Wash the pluck and boil for 1.5 hours, ensuring the windpipe hangs over the pot allowing drainage of the impurities.
3. Mince the heart and lungs and grate half the liver.

4. Chop up the onions and suet.

5. Warm the oatmeal in the oven.

6. Mix all the above together and season with the salt and pepper. Then add the cayenne.

7. Pour over enough of the pluck boiled water to make the mixture watery.

8. Fill the bag with the mixture until it’s half full.

9. Press out the air and sew the bag up.

10. Boil for 3 hours (you may need to prick the bag with a wee needle if it looks like blowing up!) without the lid on.

11. Serve with neeps and tatties.

Caitlin no longer likes haggis.

The next morning I had a gaggle of activities planned so we awoke early and set off to our first stop: the Edinburgh Castle. The walk was about a mile, all up hill, and by the time we arrived at the castle entrance, I had two girls chewing my ear off. “My legs hurt!” “”My calves burn!”"Why are you walking so fast?” Blah blah. They quickly overcame their fatigue and hatred and were happy to have joined me on the journey. Right next to the castle is a gift shop area with a cashmere factory in the basement. So, before we went inside the castle walls, we stopped inside. It was neat to see the looms making both cashmere and wool blankets, scarves, and gloves. While we were in there, the girls disappeared for a while so I took to browsing until they were ready to meet again. They had all sorts of cool items in the store. Of course wool and cashmere things from the factory below, but also hand blown glass and crystal from just down the street. Let me tell you, it was hard to walk out without buying something, but I didn’t. Little did I know, the girls were off buying me presents. Emily got me a fancy pen with a celtic design on it, something I had told her I wanted long ago. And Cait bought me a very nice crystal set with two small whiskey tots and a bottle and stopper. Of course, to even the score I bought them each a souvenier as well, but I will leave it up to them to share what I got them.

After spending much more time and money than we had originally anticipated in the shops, we headed to the castle. Our ickets included a free tour so that was first on the list of things to do once inside. The guide was informative, giving us an overview of the buildings on the inner walls, while not actually going inside any of them. This was nice because we got the opportunity to figure out what everything was and then walk around and explore deeper the things we really wanted to see. The view from the top of the castle was pretty cool, overlooking Edinburgh and the land surrounding the city. We saw a lot, but really there isn’t too much to write about. It was old, made of stone, that’s about it.

Next on the list was the Sctoch and Whiskey Experience, just down the road on the Royal Mile. Although this distillery offered tours, we all felt the price of admission was a little steep so instead we jsut went to the gift shop. I bought a few minature bottles of scotch whiskey, basically ones that I liked the look of the bottle. After all, you can’t visit Scotland and not buy whiskey. Oh, and by ”a few bottles”, I mean 5.

By this time, we were all ready for a break so we made the trip to a- this hurts to say- a McDonalds. What can I say, I caved in. The food was good, a welcomed taste of America. After finishing our meals, we headed back to the hostel to relax and recharge, because I had yet another outing planned for that night- a much more sinister, haunted outing.

Our next Edinburgh experience was the not so accurately named “Cadies and Witchery Tour: Murder and Mayhem.” This tour was led by two “ghosts”, Adam Lyal and Steve. Adam wore what appeared to be a dracula outfit, his face and hair so white that he glowed in the flash of my camera. Steve was the “jumper-ooter”, as they called him, and took turns dressing up in what ever Edinburgh poltergeist Adam happened to be telling us about. One thing about the jumper outers, the point of having them was to scare you. However, when asking the girls if they wanted me to book a tour online, I may have lied and said there wasn’t going to be anyone jumping out an grabbing you. Frankly, I wanted to go and I read that CHILDREN were welcome on the tour. I figured anything ok for a 6 year old would be fine for two nearly 20 year olds. Right? Now, the point at which they found out I was lying was when we were standing at the starting point, waiting for the guides to arrive. To make matters worse, they found out from a pamphlet that was at the checkpoint, and not from me. They were not pleased. However, as more and more families showed up to go on the tour, they were comforted to see small children, just as I had told them before. The tour began and Adam led us around alleyways and told us stories of witch trials and executions that had happened in the cities history. For the first half hour, I don’t think Em and Cait unleashed their white knuckle grasp of eachothers arms. Seriously though, it was hilarious, and when the first jumper outer, the six foot two inch guy wearing a dress and wig, popped out from around the corner, all we did was laugh. That really was the point of the whole thing, to make you laugh while teaching you of such a dark time in the country’s history- and they did an excellent job. The tour lasted about an hour and a half and we laughed the whole time. At one point, Em was asked to help with a demonstration, go to my shutterfly page to watch the video, you won’t be sorry. Once the tour wrapped up, we went back to the hostel and passed out. It had been a long, long day.

Yet again, we woke up early the next morning to catch our train to St Andrews. This was the part of the trip I was most looking forward to, and I was happy to see that we had awoken to a beautiful sunny morning. Side note: Scotland is known for being the country of four seasons. Big deal, right? Iowa has four seasosons, too. Well, my friend, in Scotland, you will experince all four seasons in a 12hour period. Everyday we were there, we went through times of dark, cloudy, windy cold followed by sunny t-shirt weather, immediately chased away by a down pour of rain, and finally a mild, sunny period- the best part of the day.

 Back on track- Once we had made it to Leuchars train station, we had to catch a cab into St Andrews. Again, we were lucky to find a nice cabbie who talked to us and took us right where we needed to go for a fair price. We had booked a room in the only hostel in St Andrews, and unfortunatley, it was a 7 bed room, which meant we would have to share. Luckily, when we arrived we found out that we would probably have the whole room to ourself since we came in a group. That was a huge relief. I really don’t mind sharing a room, but when I’m carrying money, credit cards,  and a passport, I tend to be a little hestitant to be in close quarters with a stranger. After a short break, we headed out into the town of St Andrews, much to the discontent of the girls who wanted to sleep. But alas, we only had one day there so no time could be wasted, at least in my mind.

St Andrews is a small, old, Scottish town, situated right on the east coast of the country. With only 15000 people, it was a far cry from the bustling city atmosphere we had grown accustomed to after our last trips. It was a welcomed sight in my book. Most of the attractions were right along the coast, so we walked to the northern most point and walked south, beginning at the Cathedral ruins. They were exactly what the name implies, ruins of a 12th Century Cathedral and cemetary. We spent a short amount of time there before heading to the path to take our first up close and personal look at the cliffs and beachest that make up the Scotland coast. It was quite a site. We all just stood for a while and enjoyed the sunny weather and the calming quiet of a small town and crashing waves.

Next, just a short walk down the beach were the ruins of the St Andrews Castle. Although this castle was much smaller and had much less remaining in terms of structures, I actually preferred this to the Edinburgh castle. To each their own, I guess. We didn’t actually go inside the walls, we instead walked down the path carved into the cliff and onto the sandy beach below. Collecting shells and rocks, we took turns climbing on the huge limestone slabs that littered the beach. It was now time to do something Cait had always wanted- take a freeze frame jumping picture of her and Emily on the beach. She said that whenever she thought of the beach, the one image that popped into her head was of people jumping and having their pictures taken in mid air. Well, as her and Em jumped, I shot pictures, approximately 25 pictures until we finally got one right. The process was hilarious with both of them falling, hurting themselves, and getting sand in their pants. We had a great time, but decided it was time to move on.

Before heading to the southern most point on our map, we walked past St Andrews University, then stopped at a pub to energize us for the rest of the day. This time, no haggis.

It was now time for my most anticipated experience of the entire semester: seeing the birthplace of golf, the oldest golf course in the world, the Old Course at St Andrews. As we approached, I immediately recognized the Royal and Ancient Golf Club and I became more and more excited. We walked down past the club house and I got my first glimpse of the course itself, looking down the first hole fairway. Unfortunately, there were people playing at the time so access was limited but it was quite an experience just to see it. After wandering around and picking up some souveniers, we went back to the hostel for a rest.

While Cait took a nap, Em and I decided to look into the board game selection at the hostel. Although they had a lot of games, none of them had instructions and none of them were familiar. We settled on a game called therapy. We made up our own way to play and basically, you had to answer 5 questions right from each stage of life to pass onto the next one, and eventually win the game. We never actually finished, but after about an hour of play one thing was abundantly clear: never ask Emily about anything therapy related, especially if it has to do with ink blot tests.

That evening, we went to the Dunvegan, perhaps one of the most famous 19th holes in the world. This pub and hotel is situated right off of the 18th hole of the Old Course and has played host to the most prominent players of the game. Although it is literally a hole in the wall, we walked in and had to fight through a crowd of people to get a table. The walls were covered with pictures from events in the game of golf and players that has visited. Name a player and they had once had a beer at the Dunvegan. A very cool experience for me, and the girls too because they got to have what they had both wanted for days: dessert. While Cait enjoyed her apple pie and Em her chocolate cake, I finished my Carlsberg and headed back to the course to hopefully get some pictures. When I arrived, I found there were STILL people playing, so I was still unable to get a first hand look. Knowing I had some time to kill, I walked down to the beach right across from the course and climbed out onto some rocks that jutted out of an area called Witch Lake. I hung out there for about a half hour, just taking in my surroundings and snapping some photos. Check my shutterfly page for a short video I took from my perch. I met back up with the girls and they decided they wanted to see where I had been so we headed back down to the beach and stayed there until the sun had set.

Both you and I know that there was no way I was leaving that town without seeing more of the course, so at 645 the next morning, I dragged the girls out of bed and made the walk to the Old Course. I say I dragged them, but they actually came volutarily, whether they were happy about it is a whole other issue.On Sundays, the Old Course is closed so people, like myself, can go out and walk on it. And walk on it we did. Before the sun had even peered into the sky, we had begun our hike, only a few Scots and their dogs accompanying us on the course. We took countless photos, and walked all 18 holes. Every last one of them. All as the sun rose over St Andrews. Em told Cait that although she may not know it, she should feel lucky, because most golfers in their lifetime never visit this place, much less see the sun rise over the coast from the 2nd hole. She just rolled her eyes, but we all know she thought it was cool. Our train was scheduled to leave at 937 and I expected us to be off the course by 815 giving us plenty of time to walk to the hostel, call a cab, and make it to the train station. Well, 9 o’clock rolled around and we were just getting to the 18th hole, but there was absolutely no way I was leaving that country without getting a picture on the historic Swilican bridge which connects the 18th’s fairway between a burn that runs across the first and last holes. We spent another 10 minutes taking turns getting our picture taken on the bridge, making sure we each had one that turned out. We even paused to take a picture for a group of Spainards who had asked us for the favor. In return we also got a picture of the three of us- a rarity with one person always having to hold the camera.

The next 30 minutes were a blur. We power walked to the hostel, checked out, called a cab, rode the the station, and still got there 10 minutes early. Pretty good timing I’d say.

The rest of the day was travel, anxiously awaiting our arrival at home where we could look at our pictures sleep in our own beds. We arrived in Hull around 8 Sunday night, it was raining. We boarded our last bus for the trip and after 15 hours of bus rides, 2 hours on a train, 4 taxi rides, 20 miles of walking, two countries, two hostels, and two wonderful Scottish cities, our weekend vacation was complete…. and that was only week 3!

Our plans for this weekend are to go to Pembroke, Wales which is about 11 hours away by bus. Read up next Monday for stories about that trip.

Cheerio.

Class queues and Libbeh-poo

Well, suffice it to say there have been some interesting things going on since the last time I blogged. Last Monday was the “official” start of the academic year at Hull, however there were no classes.Instead, we took the time to finish up registering for classes and amending our schedules. The module (class) sign up process is a lengthy one, so I really won’t get into it. Basically, it involves a lot, I mean A LOT, of standing in lines to get A (as in one) signature. After calculating it all, I approximate around 5 hours of standing in lines to sign up for 3 classes. I was not a happy camper. Anyway, I got my last class signed off on Tuesday which meant I had the rest of the week to relax until my final departmental meeting I had to attend on Friday.

We decided to go to the movies for a night on the town. Going to a movie in England is pretty much the same as going to one in America, except they didn’t put nor did they offer to put butter on the popcorn. It was good anyway. Oh, another difference is some movies come out later here than in the states.

The rest of the week was pretty uneventful, until Friday. We decided we wanted to go somewhere over the weekend and finally came to a consensus on Liverpool. When I say we finally came to a consensus, I mean I said, “You guys want to go to Liverpool,” to which they responded, ”Sure.” I did some research and found out that bus tickets are about 25-40% cheaper than train tickets, so that is the method we choose.  However, the journey was going to take us right around 6 hours. It would be a challenge to maintain sanity. Our coach left the Hull station at 140 pm and it started well, for about the first 30 seconds. We went to the upper level, and were immediately followed by a mother, her 2 kids, and her friend. Usually, it is the children that cause the problems. I am convinced that many children are born with a gene that forces them to emit a loud, almost inaudible screech as soon as they enter any form of public transit, continuing until the journey ends. I digress. The children were not a problem at all, as compared to their mother. She was loud, would not control the kids so they screamed, and she smoked (twice) on the bus, which is illegal. Oh well, at least that ride was only about 2 hours. Sense the sarcasm? I’ll change the subject before I rant.

We had a little lay over in Leeds which allowed us all to get some food, not to mention some fresh air after that first ride. The next ride was on a much nicer bus and was right around 3 1/2 hours. Even though the trip was a little long, the views along part of the trip were amazing. Although we had seen part of the countryside when we were in Bassingborn, it was an all new experience on the M62 between Leeds and Manchester. The terrain was hilly, spotted with herds of sheep, cattle, and horses. In areas there were some trees, but largely it was bare with prairie like grasses. There were also remnants of what appeared to be old stone walls throughout much of the trip. I remember reading that there were such remnants of ancient Roman walls in Northern England, and I’m interested to find out if those were it.

Upon our arrival in Liverpool (pronounced Libbeh-poo by locals), we finally saw one England tradition we had not yet seen: rain. Oh well, I guess it had to happen sometime. We hailed a taxi (our first ever) and got a ride to the Nightingale hostel, which I had booked the night before. These were two things I was very weary of. One, getting into a taxi with a perfect stranger at the wheel was something I had never done before, even in America. I wasn’t really afraid of getting kidnapped or anything like that, but was instead concerned he would overcharge us upon hearing our accents. I’m glad to say that our driver was very nice, recommending some places for us to go see the next day and charging us was seemed to be a fair amount for the trip. Now onto my next concern, the hostel. The name itself really implies something ominous and dodgy (to use a local term), not really a place you really want to sleep. I had done the research and it seemed to be a nice place in a decent neighborhood, but you really never know until you get there what it’s going to be like. We stepped inside and it was marvelous. Everything was clean and the common areas were neat, providing us with some activities had our stay been longer. Our room was basic, four beds and a sink. Upon further inspection, the bathrooms and toilets were sanitary and in working condition. Success. We all pretty much sacked out around 9 o’clock and all, except myself, slept peacefully. I spent the night being sick, because it would seem customary that since I was on vacation, I should fall ill.

The next morning we all awoke. I still was feeling sick but I really didn’t want that to put a damper on the weekend, so I used the hostel computer to book another hostel for that night. That way if we were out seeing the sites and I didn’t feel up to it I could just go to the new hostel and rest. We checked out and began to walk to a few of the areas our nice cabbie had told us about the night before.

We saw some amazing churches which, of course, were very old, and then headed down to Alberts Dock, which is where most of the main attractions were in the city. The walk was only about and mile and a half, but with spitting rain and gail force winds, it made for a less than pleasant journey. The views from the dock were pretty cool, but we quickly headed inside to escape the cold. There were a plethora of shops that we stopped in, virtually all featuring Beatles paraphernalia or candy as their main product. We spent some time walking around until we found a few museums that looked promising. It may be important to point out that the reason they were so appealing was the fact that they were free to enter. The Maritime Museum and International Slave Museum shared a 5 story building on Alberts Dock. All in all, it was interesting but there were two parts which I found to be the most enticing. One, a new exhibit called Seized led you thru the operations of customs. It showed why people tried smuggling items, and then showed you how they did so, which was the most interesting. Featured were fake limbs, guitars, pottery, books, and virtually anything else you would commonly carry on an airplane. They also had an array of weaponry people attempted to transport. Drugs were another feature, and what made it interesting was most of the artifacts and examples were taken from Heathrow airport in London, where we had flown into on day 1. There was a full body xray of some guy who had 15 kilos of cocaine in his digestive tracts, hidden in bundles which he had swallowed. Perhaps the most interesting piece that had been confiscated from a traveler was pickled baby cobra. It is exactly what it sounds like. A dead, pickled baby cobra in a cough syrup sized bottle. Why would anyone want this, well to drink it of course. I’m all for trying new foods while abroad, but if someone comes to the table with a bottle of serpent’s finest, I think I will pass.

The next interesting thing was the Titanic exhibit. They didn’t have much from the Titanic itself, but  displayed were items from the life rafts survivors escaped on. The reason for this is the ship which came to the Titanic’s rescue, the Carpathia, was based out of Liverpool. Pretty cool, huh?

After the museum we stopped at a restaurant on the docks. I had the duck wrap with plum sauce. Exquisite.

By that time we were ready to head to our next hostel and relax for a bit, and after some jostling around Liverpool to find a cab which knew where we were heading, we arrived. First of all, let me put you at ease. We are completely fine, no scars, wounds, or permanant disfiguring, got it? Remember how I said things can look great online, but you really never know until you get there. Well, this would be one of those times where you question your judgement. We arrived at the address and got out of the taxi. We were looking for 39 Kempton road, we saw 37 and 41. Inbetween those houses was a big, black iron gate which led to a back alley. Hmmm. I looked through the gate and sure enough, there was the sign for the Old Dairy Hostel. The gate was unlocked so we tentatively walked inside. The entrance to the hostel was locked, and as we were headed around the corner to find another way, a gentleman from the hostel opened the door and ushered us inside. Turns out, in this case, its not whats on the cover that counts. Although the outside neighborhood APPEARED rough, the hostel was actually quite nice. The guy who let us in was very helpful and welcoming, even gave us some free towels to use while there. I think the reason the surroundings seemed so bad was because the night before we were in prime tourist territory with cool things to look at, whereas now we were in a residential area. Yet again, I digress. The absolute best part about this hostel: FREE CABLE TV. Of course, the channels were British so we had to look a little harder to find familiar viewing options, but alas we did. We watched Scrubs, Star Trek, My Name is Earl, and a few episodes of Friends. One thing to mention abou the Friends episodes we watched: do you think its weird that 2 of the 3 we watched were Thanksgiving episodes, when in fact we are in a country that not only does not celebrate Thanksgiving, but the US celebrates it as part of settling into their new world AWAY from the English? We thought so too. Now onto the worst part of the hostel: Columbians. Go ahead and read Cait’s blog to find out more about that.

The next day was all travel back to Hull and preparation for our first day of class.

And that brings us to today, Monday, Oct. 5. I finally attended class today for the first time in around 5 months. The way classes are run here are a bit different. You have your lecture, and MOST classes have a tutorial accompanying the lecture. These tutorials meet at different times during the week and are used to supplement your learning. For example, if you were taking History of America, you might have your lecture for two hours every Monday, and your tutorial for an hour every Wednesday. I went into the day knowing that I had the following already scheduled:

Religions in Antiquity 1215-205 Monday

Buyer Behavior 215-415 Monday

American Art 315-515 Tuesday

I figured I would have to schedule tutorials in between, HOWEVER turns out I have no tutorials so at 515 on Tuesdays,  I am done with class for the week. Score.

Classes went well today, religions was kind of boring but my buyer behavior promises to save my Monday afternoons for me.

Whew. That was a long one. Our plan for this weekend is to go to Salisbury, which is where Stonehenge is at. I’m planning on blogging every Monday about the previous weeks happenings so be sure to check in and see what’s up.

Cheerio.

Snorientation and the Asylum

Let’s see, where we last left off, I was preparing to go to salsa dancing lessons and karoke night. I’m happy to report both were successful in entertaining me. Salsa dancing lessons were first, taking place at the on campus nightclub, Asylum. There were about 40 international students there, girls out numbering the boys. Emily, Mouse, and I danced while Cait watched. We started by learning a few basic steps: the mambo, side step, basic back, and urban step. Once the group had a decent grasp on these, we paired up. Obviously, Emily and I paired up and were getting the hang of combining the steps until the instructor said, “Switch partners.” You should have seen the look on Emily’s face: priceless. To make it better, Cait captured the moment with her digital camera. I danced with a borage of different girls from all over the world, all in all it was an insightful experience. Moving on, we learned some more advanced steps and finally moved onto turns. None of us really got those but every once in awhile we managed to put together enough missteps to make it look good.

That night, Mouse and I went to Sanctuary to watch karoke. Highlight: watching a grotesquely feminine portuguese guy sing Barbie Girl. Epic. Mouse and I also tried a new kind of cider, Bulmers. Very good, perhaps my new favorite.  Not much else to report from that night.

On Friday morning, we went to day 2 of orientation. Yet again, it was very, very boring. However, listening to the local police speak was interesting. He had a briefcase full of things that had been taken from people within the past few years. These included: ninja throwing stars, num chuks, and long blade swords. Apparently, there is a large underground ninja movement in Hull, whoda thunk? In our second session of the afternoon, we FINALLY learned how to sign up for classes. The process is long and involves a lot of waiting in lines so I’ll spare you the details. Although official registration for classes isn’t until Monday, I did check in and see my potential schedule. As of now, I have class from noon to 5 on Mondays, that’s it. Ha. I still have to sign up for a tutorial for each class but those are flexible and will more than likely be my Tuesday activities. To make matters even better, for each class I have one test and one paper- maximum. Hard life, huh?

Friday night was the International Student Association Welcom Party at the Asylum. It was fun, enough said.

And we arrive at today, Saturday, September 26. We all woke up and got around this morning and made our way to the bus stop to ride down to the city centre for a guided tour. The tour was really neat, taking us through much of the nicer areas of town, as well as Old Town, a part of Hull which remains from as far back as the 1600s. Our tour guide was very knowledgable, answering virtually any question we had about Hull’s history. Featured on the tour: parts of the old wall, famous for being a site which is said to have led to the English civil war, various pubs aged 200+ years, the indoor market made up of vendors selling all sorts of food items, and the docks which offered a picturesque view of The Deep (an aquarium) and the ithmus that leads boats into Hull. This 2 hour long tour pretty much ate up our afternoon, but was invaluable in deepening our understanding of the history of this city.

Now, as I sit drinking my tea and thinking about what else to write about, I am thinking about some of the key differences between life here and in the US. I’ve compiled a list for your reading pleasure:

1. The language: Yes, its still English, but there are still many barriers. Here are some translations, beginning with the English word followed by the American meaning.

- Lou=Bathroom

- Cheeky=Smart mouth or comment

- Pants=Underwear

- Trousers=Pants

- Knappies=Diapers

- Pudding=Dessert

- Lorrie=Semi truck

- Chips=French fries

- Crisps=Chips

- Tutor=Professor

- Cheers=Thank you

- Biscuits=Cookie

- Crumpet=Biscuit

- Boot=Car trunk

- Plaster=Band aid

- Queue=Line

- Humps=Speed bumps

- Quid= Cash or bucks

- Garden=Backyard

- Fizzy Drink=Pop or soda

2. Service at restaraunts: In the US if you go five minutes without seeing a waitress, we would consider it to be poor service. However, here, you are lucky to see your waitress once inbetween recieving your food and getting your bill. It has taken some getting used to.

3. Cops don’t carry guns and it is illegal to carry a hammer.

4. They drive on the wrong side of the road and all the cars are compact.

5. Foods taste different: I think there is less sugar in pop and most have different tastes. Also, most juices you buy for at home use come concetrated. You are supposed to mix it with water- we didn’t know that until we drank half a bottle of seemingly super sweet juice.

6. You have to have a permit to have a television in your home.

7. You can’t watch US tv shows on thier websites. It stinks.

8. Public transportation is great: You can get to and from anywhere on a train or bus fairly easily.

9. You don’t see  any people on campus dressed down: No sweatpants or gym shorts. Many girls wear leggings with a fancy shirt and guys wear nice jeans with a button up shirt or sweater.

Just a few more things, the weather has been great since our arrival, with the temperature hovering around 70, and get this: NO rain! I have also found a new favorite candy bar, the Double Decker. It’s like a cross between a Crunch bar and Three Musketeers.

I’ll do my best to blog in the next week, but as of now, there is not much planned. If we get signed up for classes by Wednesday we will probably go on a trip. Nothing too far away, perhaps Liverpool, Stonehenge, or Swansea, Wales. 

So that’s that, the curtain is closing on this entry. Time to bow out and wish you all a fair adieu. Cheerio.