This morning I noticed that my earliest blogs from pre-London times are GONE! SO, that was all it took for me to back up our blog and I'll continue keeping it in word in case anyone wants a 3000 page account of our life in London :-)
Yesterday, on the tube, I had the pleasure of sitting next to a man who told his friend that all the immigrants should be gassed--specifically the n-words and the c-words. It's so lovely when you get to sit next to people like that!
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Richmond!
On Sunday, as we were lounging around in our pajamas and contemplating the day ahead of us, Jim suggested that we take a picnic. We didn't want to go any place we had already been, so Jim got on the internet and did some research and we agreed to head down south to Richmond--one stop on the train past Kew Gardens (see previous blogs about Kew Gardens).
Of course, no adventure in or around London is complete unless we forget our A to Z, which has every street in London on it. SO, as usual, we left that behind and hopped on the Silverlink out of West Hampstead. If any of you are contemplating going to Kew Gardens or Richmond from West Hampstead, the Silverlink is the way to do it...especially on the weekend, when half the tubelines are down for "planned engineering." Even the Silverlink was partially down, but we have been lucky this weekend that none of the planned engineering affected us (for once. In addition to leaving our map behind every chance we get, we also are very good at forgetting to check the status of the tube/train, which is vital on the weekends).
The Silverlink took us to the last stop: Richmond! THen we hopped on a bus, which dropped us off right around the corner from Richmond Park. The park was developed by some King or Lord because he wanted to have deer to hunt. There is a wall all around it, which was originally meant to keep the deer in. Unfortunately, we didn't see any of the famous deer, but we saw a lot of other people!
Richmond Park has great trails running through it and looks a lot different than the other manicured parks within London (with the exception of Hampstead Heath, which also has a more natural feel). We hiked down a trail and set up our picnic under some trees. Bunnies were coming in and out of their dens all around us and we were very good friends with some ravens/crows by the end of our lunch.
Here is Jim getting ready to hike down the trail that eventually led to our picnic spot:
He was such a gentleman and let us use his jacket as a tablecloth, since we don't have enough blankets yet, to spare any for things like picnics:
I spent a lot of time trying to get this crow/raven to eat bread out of my hand. He would have done it if I had kept at it for a couple of more hours. He would circle from the back and hop and little closer and a little closer....but he always got scared at the last minute.
After our picnic, we walked up past one of the lodges, which was surrounded by daffodils and other flowers that we have on the farm in Louisiana. We crossed into a wooded area where we saw a green woodpecker! Some annoying kid scared it away, though.
Because the train station was actually very close to the park, we decided to walk back up Richmond Hill. The hill overlooked the Thames and down below people were walking on a trail that went along the Thames. There were also ice cream trucks everywhere. Jim enjoyed a cone and you can kind of see the river behind him. It was a really beautiful view.
Eventually we made it to the high street and down to an area next to the river, where people were sitting in the sun and enjoying an afternoon pint. It was during this span of time that we decided that British women take "hoochie" to a whole new level...London is Dallas times 10! We were quite the fuddy duddies in our cords and fleece jackets and pale non-orange complections and I think that half of the people out on the hill were actually on the prowl. But we were having a great time just feeding the ducks in fuddy duddy marital bliss. We didn't get a picture of him, but one of the geese was definitely Buster in goose form. He was begging for food, soulful eyes and all.
Here is the scene from the bank of the river (in the area where we were feeding the ducks and mingling with the locals)
When we decide we don't want to be so central, Richmond is definitely a place to consider. Next weekend, I think we are going to try to catch the Cambridge vs. Oxford boat races!
Of course, no adventure in or around London is complete unless we forget our A to Z, which has every street in London on it. SO, as usual, we left that behind and hopped on the Silverlink out of West Hampstead. If any of you are contemplating going to Kew Gardens or Richmond from West Hampstead, the Silverlink is the way to do it...especially on the weekend, when half the tubelines are down for "planned engineering." Even the Silverlink was partially down, but we have been lucky this weekend that none of the planned engineering affected us (for once. In addition to leaving our map behind every chance we get, we also are very good at forgetting to check the status of the tube/train, which is vital on the weekends).
The Silverlink took us to the last stop: Richmond! THen we hopped on a bus, which dropped us off right around the corner from Richmond Park. The park was developed by some King or Lord because he wanted to have deer to hunt. There is a wall all around it, which was originally meant to keep the deer in. Unfortunately, we didn't see any of the famous deer, but we saw a lot of other people!
Richmond Park has great trails running through it and looks a lot different than the other manicured parks within London (with the exception of Hampstead Heath, which also has a more natural feel). We hiked down a trail and set up our picnic under some trees. Bunnies were coming in and out of their dens all around us and we were very good friends with some ravens/crows by the end of our lunch.
Here is Jim getting ready to hike down the trail that eventually led to our picnic spot:
He was such a gentleman and let us use his jacket as a tablecloth, since we don't have enough blankets yet, to spare any for things like picnics:
I spent a lot of time trying to get this crow/raven to eat bread out of my hand. He would have done it if I had kept at it for a couple of more hours. He would circle from the back and hop and little closer and a little closer....but he always got scared at the last minute.
After our picnic, we walked up past one of the lodges, which was surrounded by daffodils and other flowers that we have on the farm in Louisiana. We crossed into a wooded area where we saw a green woodpecker! Some annoying kid scared it away, though.
Because the train station was actually very close to the park, we decided to walk back up Richmond Hill. The hill overlooked the Thames and down below people were walking on a trail that went along the Thames. There were also ice cream trucks everywhere. Jim enjoyed a cone and you can kind of see the river behind him. It was a really beautiful view.
Eventually we made it to the high street and down to an area next to the river, where people were sitting in the sun and enjoying an afternoon pint. It was during this span of time that we decided that British women take "hoochie" to a whole new level...London is Dallas times 10! We were quite the fuddy duddies in our cords and fleece jackets and pale non-orange complections and I think that half of the people out on the hill were actually on the prowl. But we were having a great time just feeding the ducks in fuddy duddy marital bliss. We didn't get a picture of him, but one of the geese was definitely Buster in goose form. He was begging for food, soulful eyes and all.
Here is the scene from the bank of the river (in the area where we were feeding the ducks and mingling with the locals)
When we decide we don't want to be so central, Richmond is definitely a place to consider. Next weekend, I think we are going to try to catch the Cambridge vs. Oxford boat races!
Our first football game and how we almost caused a riot (indirectly)
Today, thanks to free tickets from a guy Jim works with, we went to our first (and my last) London football game. It was definitely a cultural experience, but one that I would prefer not to repeat.
The game was between Fulham and Portsmouth and we were sitting on the Fulham side. In our typical fashion, we strolled into the stadium about ten minutes after kick off, found our seats, started to say hello to the people who gave us the tickets, but were quickly told by them to sit down and be quiet (they weren't mad or anything, but I guess we shouldn't have gotten there late). All around us were the Fulham fans--mostly middle aged, white men with their sons of various ages. The mood was vicious and, in our section, we were surrounded by yellers, who oscillated between screaming curse-filled insults at the players and the fans of the other teams, and singing curse-filled songs at the players and the other fans. Fathers and sons alike (even LITTLE sons) dropped the f bomb left and right and made racist comments and death wishes aimed at the Portsmouth players. There was no drinking going on and I was scared to talk (which is usually what I do at sporting events. I can't remember one game in the past where I actually paid attention). We were sitting so close together that whenever the guy behind me screamed, "Come on Boys!!!" the back of my sweater moved and I could feel his breath on my neck. Someone also had gas, which was making things even more unbearable. You would think that wouldn't be an issue in an open air stadium, but when you are packed in like sardines, it is.
Just before the half-time, an outburst erupted in the row before us. Doug, the man who gave us our tickets, was being screamed at by a VERY angry Fulham fan who kept saying "don't laugh (f-bomb). I'll get you (f-bomb) kicked out of here right now! You won't (f-bomb) be (f-bomb) here for the next half." He then raced off to get one of the many security people. It turns out that Doug is a Portsmouth fan and, I guess to reduce the riots, the fans are supposed to remain segregated--Fulham on one side and Portsmouth on the other. The Fulham man, as Doug put it, "Would rather eat his children than sit next to a fan from the opposing team," and was hell-bent on getting us kicked out of the game (although I don't think he really had factored Jim and me into the equation. We were staying very quiet.) A few minutes later, the security guard came over and told Doug that he wasn't allowed to be in the seats if he was a Portsmouth fan and then went off to talk to his supervisor about having us re-seated. I was shocked that someone can have a valid ticket and be told to leave because someone else was so much of a baby that he couldn't bear the idea of having "the enemy" sitting behind him. The supervisor never came, our host swore not to make a peep about Portsmouth, and when the angry man came back and found out that we were still there, he asked "WHY ARE YOU SITTING HERE!!!??" Doug explained that his boss had given him the tickets and the guy said, "YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE!!! HE SHOULD BE HERE NOT YOU!!!" Then he said, turning to all of the other fans and pointing at Doug, "THERE'S A PORTY HERE! RIGHT HERE!!!" You would have thought that we we were mass murderers or something, the way that he was reacting. Eventually his wife told him to be quiet and he was, but after that I felt so anxious about getting jumped or pushed down the stairs that I couldn't enjoy the game anymore and all I wanted was to get out of there. When the game finally ended and we could leave, I felt a huge sense of relief and realized that I haven't been that stressed in about three months.
So, football isn't for me, but Jim liked it and might write his opinion of the game. He's already looking for more tickets....
Here are some pictures from today:
We were very happy that even though the District Line was partially shut down for "planned engineering," the part that we needed to use was fully functioning.
While we were waiting for the tube, a huge group of people dressed in super hero costumes walked by. This isn't a great picture, but you get the idea. Later we saw some people dressed up like hippies. We haven't figured out whether or not there is another Halloween in London this weekend. Maybe they dress up for April Fools Day?
We followed the crowds through a park and into stadium. From the park, we could hear the screaming and singing from inside the stadium. Portsmouth, it turns out, had scored a goal during the first te minutes, which added to the anger that our ornery neighbor was feeling.
A Fulham player somehow jumped onto the shoulders of a Portmouth player, while kicking...and JIm caught it on film. Much to the dismay of the fans behind me, the Fulham player got charged with a foul.
And,the stadium, after the game. Did I mention that there was practically an entire police force outside of the stadium, in addition to the hundreds of security guards inside? If I were a criminal, I would definitely commit my crimes during the neighborhood football game because I can't imagine which police officers would be available. It was ridiculous!
Thank you Mom and Dad for making sure that I never had any interest in any sports besides tennis, a nice, peaceful game which only gets as violent as someone throwing a racket around and the occasional heated argument with the judges. I'm definitely going to Wimbledon.
The game was between Fulham and Portsmouth and we were sitting on the Fulham side. In our typical fashion, we strolled into the stadium about ten minutes after kick off, found our seats, started to say hello to the people who gave us the tickets, but were quickly told by them to sit down and be quiet (they weren't mad or anything, but I guess we shouldn't have gotten there late). All around us were the Fulham fans--mostly middle aged, white men with their sons of various ages. The mood was vicious and, in our section, we were surrounded by yellers, who oscillated between screaming curse-filled insults at the players and the fans of the other teams, and singing curse-filled songs at the players and the other fans. Fathers and sons alike (even LITTLE sons) dropped the f bomb left and right and made racist comments and death wishes aimed at the Portsmouth players. There was no drinking going on and I was scared to talk (which is usually what I do at sporting events. I can't remember one game in the past where I actually paid attention). We were sitting so close together that whenever the guy behind me screamed, "Come on Boys!!!" the back of my sweater moved and I could feel his breath on my neck. Someone also had gas, which was making things even more unbearable. You would think that wouldn't be an issue in an open air stadium, but when you are packed in like sardines, it is.
Just before the half-time, an outburst erupted in the row before us. Doug, the man who gave us our tickets, was being screamed at by a VERY angry Fulham fan who kept saying "don't laugh (f-bomb). I'll get you (f-bomb) kicked out of here right now! You won't (f-bomb) be (f-bomb) here for the next half." He then raced off to get one of the many security people. It turns out that Doug is a Portsmouth fan and, I guess to reduce the riots, the fans are supposed to remain segregated--Fulham on one side and Portsmouth on the other. The Fulham man, as Doug put it, "Would rather eat his children than sit next to a fan from the opposing team," and was hell-bent on getting us kicked out of the game (although I don't think he really had factored Jim and me into the equation. We were staying very quiet.) A few minutes later, the security guard came over and told Doug that he wasn't allowed to be in the seats if he was a Portsmouth fan and then went off to talk to his supervisor about having us re-seated. I was shocked that someone can have a valid ticket and be told to leave because someone else was so much of a baby that he couldn't bear the idea of having "the enemy" sitting behind him. The supervisor never came, our host swore not to make a peep about Portsmouth, and when the angry man came back and found out that we were still there, he asked "WHY ARE YOU SITTING HERE!!!??" Doug explained that his boss had given him the tickets and the guy said, "YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE!!! HE SHOULD BE HERE NOT YOU!!!" Then he said, turning to all of the other fans and pointing at Doug, "THERE'S A PORTY HERE! RIGHT HERE!!!" You would have thought that we we were mass murderers or something, the way that he was reacting. Eventually his wife told him to be quiet and he was, but after that I felt so anxious about getting jumped or pushed down the stairs that I couldn't enjoy the game anymore and all I wanted was to get out of there. When the game finally ended and we could leave, I felt a huge sense of relief and realized that I haven't been that stressed in about three months.
So, football isn't for me, but Jim liked it and might write his opinion of the game. He's already looking for more tickets....
Here are some pictures from today:
We were very happy that even though the District Line was partially shut down for "planned engineering," the part that we needed to use was fully functioning.
While we were waiting for the tube, a huge group of people dressed in super hero costumes walked by. This isn't a great picture, but you get the idea. Later we saw some people dressed up like hippies. We haven't figured out whether or not there is another Halloween in London this weekend. Maybe they dress up for April Fools Day?
We followed the crowds through a park and into stadium. From the park, we could hear the screaming and singing from inside the stadium. Portsmouth, it turns out, had scored a goal during the first te minutes, which added to the anger that our ornery neighbor was feeling.
A Fulham player somehow jumped onto the shoulders of a Portmouth player, while kicking...and JIm caught it on film. Much to the dismay of the fans behind me, the Fulham player got charged with a foul.
And,the stadium, after the game. Did I mention that there was practically an entire police force outside of the stadium, in addition to the hundreds of security guards inside? If I were a criminal, I would definitely commit my crimes during the neighborhood football game because I can't imagine which police officers would be available. It was ridiculous!
Thank you Mom and Dad for making sure that I never had any interest in any sports besides tennis, a nice, peaceful game which only gets as violent as someone throwing a racket around and the occasional heated argument with the judges. I'm definitely going to Wimbledon.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Volunteering
Yesterday I started volunteering with a school for children with special needs that is near our house. I went in for a volunteer "interview" but they were so in need of help with the youngest kids, that they asked me to start right away. So, I did.
This is my first experience with kids who have severe disabilities and it's incredibly interesting and rewarding so far (after two days). I have been helping with the "Pink" group--four and five year olds who can function in a highly structured environment. They are not quite the most disabled, but only a few of them can speak a few words and some of them also cannot hear very well, so, for the most part we use a combination of pictures and sign language to communicate. I now know how to sign "wait/calm down," "red," "blue," "green," "sad" (which the kids make the teachers when they hit or do something bad), "bread" (which the kids love for a snack), and "sorry" (which the kids have to say when they hit, pinch, or push each other). The days are spent doing interactive projects that test and challenge the childrens' cognitive functioning and communication and help them learn things that are easy for kids who are not disabled, like holding seeds in their hands, walking,matching colors, forming sounds, and basic communication skills. Some of the students react all the timec (except when they don't feel like it). With some students, it's hard to tell how much they understand about what we are saying or doing. A couple of the kids are severely autistic and all of them pretend they don't know how to do things so that the teachers and volunteers will do them for them. The teachers don't fall for this trick, but today I found out that one of my charges knows how to tie his shoes AND zip up his coat, but has been letting me do it for him. He also pretends not to understand when outside time is over. All of the kids are all working on personal hygiene and are marched to the sink about 15 times per day. I, too,wash my hands frequently because snot and bottom scratching are rampant. At lunch today I got a little girl who hates vegetables to eat her broccoli. A breakthrough! And what I'm learning is that special needs kids are not that different than non-special needs kids when it come to certain things (In particular, bottom scratching, pinching, not washing hands,not eating veggies and hugs).
The kids are loving and loveable and the staff at the school is incredibly dedicated. I'm enjoying my "job." In a couple of weeks I'll start volunteering for the London Sport Institute, distributing health surveys to college students. I'll alternate between volunteer projects--diverse experiences that will keep me busy and out of the house as well as give me experience in London.
This is my first experience with kids who have severe disabilities and it's incredibly interesting and rewarding so far (after two days). I have been helping with the "Pink" group--four and five year olds who can function in a highly structured environment. They are not quite the most disabled, but only a few of them can speak a few words and some of them also cannot hear very well, so, for the most part we use a combination of pictures and sign language to communicate. I now know how to sign "wait/calm down," "red," "blue," "green," "sad" (which the kids make the teachers when they hit or do something bad), "bread" (which the kids love for a snack), and "sorry" (which the kids have to say when they hit, pinch, or push each other). The days are spent doing interactive projects that test and challenge the childrens' cognitive functioning and communication and help them learn things that are easy for kids who are not disabled, like holding seeds in their hands, walking,matching colors, forming sounds, and basic communication skills. Some of the students react all the timec (except when they don't feel like it). With some students, it's hard to tell how much they understand about what we are saying or doing. A couple of the kids are severely autistic and all of them pretend they don't know how to do things so that the teachers and volunteers will do them for them. The teachers don't fall for this trick, but today I found out that one of my charges knows how to tie his shoes AND zip up his coat, but has been letting me do it for him. He also pretends not to understand when outside time is over. All of the kids are all working on personal hygiene and are marched to the sink about 15 times per day. I, too,wash my hands frequently because snot and bottom scratching are rampant. At lunch today I got a little girl who hates vegetables to eat her broccoli. A breakthrough! And what I'm learning is that special needs kids are not that different than non-special needs kids when it come to certain things (In particular, bottom scratching, pinching, not washing hands,not eating veggies and hugs).
The kids are loving and loveable and the staff at the school is incredibly dedicated. I'm enjoying my "job." In a couple of weeks I'll start volunteering for the London Sport Institute, distributing health surveys to college students. I'll alternate between volunteer projects--diverse experiences that will keep me busy and out of the house as well as give me experience in London.
quiet weekend
Last weekend we didn't take any trips, but we still had fun. Jim spent a couple of days last week in Slough (for those of you who are fans of the British--and original!--version of "The Office," Slough is the town in which was set. Not a pretty place.). The upside of JIm's visit to Slough is that he was only sleeping there and was able to spend his daylight hours in Windsor on some college campus, which, he reports, was beautiful. I stayed home and filled out job applications which probably will be ignored.
Saturday night we joined Dave, Carolina, Dylan, and Santiago at their beautiful house in the "burbs" of London. Unfortunately, the tube was not cooperating that night, but I did get some great pictures of Jim pole dancing in our empty tube car somewhere between Central London and Dave and Carolina's house. In the next car, we watched a 12-14 year old girl pole dancing with way too much expertise while a man maybe not old enough to be her father, but far too old to be her boyfriend looked on. It was disturbing, but Jim's version was even more frightening. Unfortunately, I'm unable to share those pictures at this time because I took them with my camera and I have not figured out how to transfer from camera to computer.
On Sunday we discovered the first acceptable Tex Mex restaurant we have found in London! Cafe Pacifico and is in Covent Garden. 99% of the people there were American and we stuffed ourselves with food that actually resembled Tex Mex (not mayo in the quacamole or anything Brit like that). Jim's enchiladas came with an olive on top, but other than that, it was pretty authentic. We did debate going to the famous vegetarian restaurant, Neal's Yard (pictured below), but instead opted for margaritas in the middle of the afternoon, sour cream, and re-fried beans. It was good, but not Texas.
This is truly a boring blog. Not to worry! We are planning more fun trips for Easter weekend and beyond!
Saturday night we joined Dave, Carolina, Dylan, and Santiago at their beautiful house in the "burbs" of London. Unfortunately, the tube was not cooperating that night, but I did get some great pictures of Jim pole dancing in our empty tube car somewhere between Central London and Dave and Carolina's house. In the next car, we watched a 12-14 year old girl pole dancing with way too much expertise while a man maybe not old enough to be her father, but far too old to be her boyfriend looked on. It was disturbing, but Jim's version was even more frightening. Unfortunately, I'm unable to share those pictures at this time because I took them with my camera and I have not figured out how to transfer from camera to computer.
On Sunday we discovered the first acceptable Tex Mex restaurant we have found in London! Cafe Pacifico and is in Covent Garden. 99% of the people there were American and we stuffed ourselves with food that actually resembled Tex Mex (not mayo in the quacamole or anything Brit like that). Jim's enchiladas came with an olive on top, but other than that, it was pretty authentic. We did debate going to the famous vegetarian restaurant, Neal's Yard (pictured below), but instead opted for margaritas in the middle of the afternoon, sour cream, and re-fried beans. It was good, but not Texas.
This is truly a boring blog. Not to worry! We are planning more fun trips for Easter weekend and beyond!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Long weekend in Cornwall--an epic blog
What an incredible place Cornwall is. It's located on the Southwest coast of England, overlooking the Atlantic, sometimes from cliffs and we were lucky enough to take a long weekend to visit. We will definitely be going back because in the few days that we were there, we only were able to explore a very small part of Cornwall.
We took the fast train from London (which still took 5 hours and 20 minutes) into Penzance (yes, the same Penzance in the play Pirates of Penzance), which, at first glance, we determined was a complete dump. But, on our way back to London, we had time to spare and were able to see some other areas of Penzance besides the bus stop and train station and found that it's not that bad after all. We weren't staying in Penzance, though. We were staying in Mousehole, which is about 3 miles from Penzance, in a shed which had been converted to a B&B at the top of a tall hill, and overlooked the village of Mousehole and beyond. Here is JIm standing on our front porch the morning after we arrived.
And a picture of the shed from the front.
To get into the village, we could either walk down on the road or we could take this much more fun and scenic route on a trail that that went through the woods and dropped us into the winding and narrow streets of Mousehole. This was especially fun at night, when it was pitch dark (no streetlights!) and the stars were piercing down from above (no pink sky!) and we had to use a torch (flashlight) to make our way back up the hill.
On our first day in town, we headed back towards Penzance, walking along the beach and then, when that became impossible, along the road. We were a little disenchanted by the scenery and later, when we looked at our map of Cornwall, discovered that the three miles between Moushole and Penzance that we walked were the only part on the map that hadn't been highlighted as "scenic, natural beauty" areas. That's pretty typical of us. Plus, about five minutes into the walk, I stepped in dog poop and then, on my way down to the rocks/water to get it off my shoe, I fell down the algae covered stairs. No bones were broken...I drink my milk.
Some boats in Mousehole's harbour:
Artistic scarecrows (to keep away the seagulls, we assumed.)
We took the bus out of Penzance and headed to a neighboring village, passing Daffodil farms along the way. Cornwall, we were told by one of the many people we met over the weekend, is one of the best places to grow Daffodils and they were everywhere--wild and on farms. People in Cornwall were eager to tell us all about Cornish history and where we should go while we were there. It was nice to talk to such friendly, welcoming people after being in London where you can be surrounded by thousands, but go through a day without talking to anyone. We were shocked when a woman in Cornwall saw us looking at our map and offered to help us find where we needed to go. On the train over, a family from Penzance told us some places we should try to visit and one of them was St. Michael's Mount, which is an island off the coast of Cornwall with a castle on top and which you can reach by foot when the tide was down. Unfortunately for us, the tide wasn't down and the castle was closed and we waited around in a pub for a while for the rumored boat that would take us across, but it seemed to not be running either. Things start to open up again on Easter weekend, we found, which was actually nice because there weren't many people around...it also was a problem at times, which I will detail later in the blog.
Since we couldn't go to St. Michael's Mount and it was suddenly cold (notice I'm wearing Jim's argyle sweater over my many layers) and rainy and the bus wasn't coming for an hour (we found out the hard way, the next day, how truly "dodgy" the bus service can be in Cornwall), we decided to peruse some of the art galleries nearby. I found this fabulous hat that sort of looks like a magicians hat/purple cow patty! Very couture!
When the bus finally came and after we realized that we had been walking along the un-scenic parts of Cornwall, we decided to head in the opposite direction. We discovered that the entrance to the coastal path was just minutes from our B&B.
The scenery was spectacular and the further we walked, the more spectacular it got:
There were some points where we could walk out to the edge of a cliff and look down. The tide was rough and waves were crashing into the rocks below us. The next day, when we came back, the tide was out and we could have accessed caves and crannies that we couldn't have the day before.
But, we ran out of daylight on that first day, so our big hike on the coast was put off until Sunday, when the weather was predicted to be snowy and cold.
Fortunately, some of us remembered to bring our jackets, hats and gloves, while others just brought hats and gloves (Jim is now well prepared for arctic temperatures and has many stylish options for cold weather):
On our way home, we picked up a cat friend who just wouldn't go away. Oreo (that's what we named him) followed us from his house all the way back through the fields to our B&B, where he sat on the porch until he was chased by the owner's dog:
At 2am, with the wind whipping outside, I was awakened by a concerned Jim who had,in turn, been awakened by a yowling cat at our door. And that's how we ended up spending our second night with Oreo...until he got on my nerves so much that I kicked him outside again, fully intending to take him back to his house the next morning.
The next morning, though, Oreo was no where to be found and the weather was beautiful and not snowy at all! The sun was shining and we packed up our picnic and our water and our many layers and headed for the coastal path!
We saw views like this along the entire 9 mile walk and, even though we had to hike up cliffs and hills that were the equivalent of fifteen stories, it was worth it to get to the top and look down below. These pictures are beautiful, but they just can't capture how majestic the scenery was in real life.
All along the walk, there were creeks and streams and waterfalls coming down the hills and cliffs to the ocean (have we mentioned that we love our goretex hiking boots??):
a mile or two into the hike, we entered a nature reserve,where pine trees had been planted. The flora and fauna (or whatever) changed dramatically in this little part of the walk and there were remains of stone walls that had been built to help with farming of potatoes (another big crop of Cornwall...potatoes, cauliflower, and broccoli. So, if for some reason you find yourself eating English cauliflower, it might very well be coming from Cornwall.)
There were lots of opportunities to take hokey pictures on rocks overlooking the sea:
And more perfect scenery (and hills to climb. These stairs were nothing compared to others on our hike).
We were struck by how blue the water was in Cornwall. From above we could see the tides moving in all directions.
Ever handy with the map, Jim made sure we had a pretty good idea of where we were at all times. Soon after this break to eat a snack and check the map, it started to pour. We hunkered down under some slightly spiny bushes and stayed dry until it passed. This happened several times during our walk, but the wind was blowing so hard that the rain only stayed around for a few minutes at a time. We could see it moving off across the ocean from our cliff positions.
The wind got a little out of control at one point and we were glad that when it did we were merely walking down fifteen stories worth of steps and not balanced on the edge of a cliff, because it was enough to push us around a little bit:
We crossed a beach made of large round walks and found ourselves in another wooded area with large beach homes tucked into the woods. We decided that we could definitely live in one of them and that if we ever came across 3 or 4 million pounds, we would look into it.
After 8 or 9 miles, the charm of the hike had worn a little thin and we started to get tired. I started making my "I'm getting tired" face for all of the pictures.
Our aim was to get to Porthcurno, where, according to our map, there was a cafe and where we figured we could catch a bus back to Mousehole....
On our final push to Porthcurno, we saw some incredible wave action and Jim fantasized about the good old day (singular) when he was a Galveston surfer. The three foot waves! The stinging seaweed! The syringes floating in the water and the everpresent fear that by swimming in the Gulf of Mexico, you are dooming yourself to three eyed children later in life! It was nothing compared to the Cornwall coast:
We finally made it to Porthcurno, tired, hungry, cold, and looking forward to pub food and then the bus home.Just a word of advice to anyone planning on visiting Cornwall: it's a farming community, so buses are few and far between once you get out of the more major villages. Also, it's a beach community, so during the off peak times, the pubs and restaurants have really strange hours. The pub closed at 3pm, moments before we arrived. A bus was nowhere to be found. No friendly surfers offered to give us a ride back to Mousehole and finally JIm had the innovative idea to look through the window of the pub, where he could just see the number for a taxi. Because of the cliffs, our cell phones got no service. We contemplated hitch hiking and then, lo and behold, a phone booth! We made it back to Mousehole (still couldn't get any real food at the local put until 6, so we settled for Doritos.) Here is a picture of Jim at the CLOSED pub in Porthcurno (I was extra bitter because it had a large sign outside proclaiming its openness).
That evening winter came back with sleet and a rainbow across the sky.
We ate our pub food and walked back up the dark hill with our torch and put Winged Migration into the DVD and got tucked into our separate twin beds and just as we were about to settled down for the evening, what should we hear but....Oreo, yowling outside of the door. I couldn't help but be reminded of the kids song "The Cat Came Back." Just in case you don't know it, the chorus is "Well, the cat came back, he woudln't go away, he was sitting on the porch the very next day." In the muppets version they shoot the cat off in a cannon and he still comes back. Poor Oreo was just a little too dense to find his way back home by himself, so we let him in again, bu this time shut him in the bathroom, where he proceeded to make a ruckus the whole night. I got up early the next morning and led him back to his house. I felt a little like the Pied Piper (what's with all the nursery rhymes?) But it was a relief to know that he was back home again and we didn't have to worry about him starving under the B&B.
On our final day in Cornwall, we walked around Mousehole and peered into the closed art galleries. We ended our stay with Cornish pasties, which are sort of like a cross between a chicken pot pie and one of those Italian inside out pizza things. Mine was vegetable and cheddar cheese, the main vegetable being potatoe,and JIm got a steak pasty. Mine sat like a brick in my stomach for the next 8 or 9 hours, but it was delicious! I have asked repeatedly for Jim not to take pictures of me while I'm in the middle of stuffing my face, but he never respects that wish, so I'll close with this beatiful picture of me tucking in a Cornish pasty.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Cornish Pasties Anyone?
It's been a whirlwind week and last night we decided that we are going to Cornwall for some rest and relaxation (much needed,especially, by Jim). From the pictures, Cornwall looks like an English Cape Cod...and even though the weather is supposed to go from beautiful to very cold this weekend we will still be glad to have a mini vacation.
In other news, I still don't have a job. I interviewed for a one week position at the place where I would like to have a full time job, but didn't get the position because of my minimal Mac skills and lack of knowledge about a graphics design program. I'm still hopeful that maybe they'll want me for another, permanent position that's more my field.
My computer is also suffering seriously after I dumped a vase of water (and flowers)on it. I now know how to remove a keyboard from laptop...maybe I'll put that on my resume.
We will take lots of pictures and report back on our Cornwall experiences. We'll be staying in a place called Mousehole (pronounced Mowzhal) in a B&B that used to be a Flowershed in someone's yard (now it's a B&B in someone's yard). Should be interesting.
In other news, I still don't have a job. I interviewed for a one week position at the place where I would like to have a full time job, but didn't get the position because of my minimal Mac skills and lack of knowledge about a graphics design program. I'm still hopeful that maybe they'll want me for another, permanent position that's more my field.
My computer is also suffering seriously after I dumped a vase of water (and flowers)on it. I now know how to remove a keyboard from laptop...maybe I'll put that on my resume.
We will take lots of pictures and report back on our Cornwall experiences. We'll be staying in a place called Mousehole (pronounced Mowzhal) in a B&B that used to be a Flowershed in someone's yard (now it's a B&B in someone's yard). Should be interesting.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
London with Mom and Dad
This morning, Mom and Dad left after an action packed almost week in London. We had so much fun, but they wore us out!
Mom and Dad got to our house last Friday at around 9:30am. Despite the fact that they were exhausted, we powered through and headed to Borough Market, where Jim met us for lunch. After eating our way through the market, we strolled over to Tower Bridge and then made our way to the Tower of London. Below are Mom, Dad, and Jim standing in front of the Thames and then at the Tower of London, where we had a tour with one of the Beefeaters (yawn) and then climbed to the top of the White Tower, where Henry the VII's armor was displayed. We were fascinated by the large size of his armor--he was HUGE! I feel sorry for the horse he rode. We also were amused by the historic cup attached to the crotch area of his suit of armor, which was very prominant and protected his family jewels.
The next day, we headed to Frommagerie (I probably didn't spell that right), a great wine and cheese store which also has breakfast. Unfortunately, next to us was a man named Trevor, who was alternately trying to grope a young lady to his left and talk to my parents about politics and books and everything else that he was a know it all about. Jim and I, not being as charmed by the English personality and also not wanting to get into a discussion about our president and terrorism and religion, just focused on our eggs and cheese. Mom was incredibly restrained, and Dad was very friendly and managed to talk to Trevor all by himself for the entire time we were at breakfast. After breakfast, we ran into Trevor again on the street and he finally gave us a useful piece of information, which was that there was going to be a total eclipse of the moon on Saturday night and that the moon would turn red (all true, up and down our street were people gaping at the moon and total eclipse parties in upper balconies). After that, we dodged Trevor (who just kept popping up everywhere) and ducked into the tube station to head to Kew Gardens. But, just for entertainment purposes, here is a picture of Trevor talking to us about the eclipse:
Kew Gardens is about to burst open with flowers. We caught the very beginning of the budding, which is marked by a carpet of crocus on the lawn of the Gardens as we walked in. The Palm house was so humid and warm that we couldn't last long, but we enjoyed strolling around the gardens outside and if I still don't have a job in a month (likely), I might go back and see them again when things are in full bloom.
Jim, Mom, and Dad in Kew Gardens:
Jim poses with a dragon:
Mom in front of the daffodils:
Dad matched the blue flowers:
Jim in front of a tree filled with orchids:
After Kew Gardens, Mom and Dad got a good taste of what the tube can be like, as we waited for almost an hour for our tube to arrive and then had to switch lines because a train had broken down on ours. The experience was so horrible that Jim got sick and couldn't join us for dinner.
On Sunday, Chef Jim whipped up some delicious French Toast in honor of Mom's birthday. Dan and Meg joined us and we had a champagne brunch!
Then we instant messaged with Kate and got all the details about the gifts she received at her lingerie party:
Monday was the most action packed day of all (I think). We started the day off at the Tate Britain and then took a boat from Tate to Tate (Modern) down the Thames. It was a great way to see part of Central London. At the Tate Modern, there are very tall slides set up (an exhibit of some sort, I think). Dad and I slid down from the third floor and then from the fifth floor (pictures coming soon). We also enjoyed the art, although Mom was scandalized by how expensive the gift shops were and also by the fact that she didn't get to see the top two floors because we had to rush off to Covent Gardens. At Covent Gardens we refreshed ourselves with coffee and then shopped until we almost dropped. Dad headed back home to have dinner with Jim while Mom and I went to the Royal Opera House for the ballet. We saw Apollo and the world premier of Children of Adam, which was very sexual and sad. The third act was another more traditional dance and they were all really wonderful. Even though we were in the nosebleed section, we had a great view of the stage.
On Tuesday, we visited Jim in Canary Wharf and got to stand in the lobby of where here works, after having to go through several levels of security. He has great views of the city. After lunch, we headed to Greenwich, our old hood, where we walked along the Thames, visited the Maritime museum, and then trudged up the hill in Greenwich Park and stood on the Prime Meridian.
And finally, yesterday, Mom and Dad ended their trip with a 10 mile walk in the country along with the American Women's Club ladies. It was a beautiful day and they were great sports and didn't complain at all (see previous blog about the Winchester Walk complainers). Here they are in action and then at the pub where we stopped for lunch:
Sadly, today, Mom and Dad had to go home and relieve Aunt Sue of pet duty, so after a hearty breakfast at the Dawson House Hotel, I waved goodbye to them as they drove off in their mini cab and trudged home...alone again. :-(
Mom and Dad got to our house last Friday at around 9:30am. Despite the fact that they were exhausted, we powered through and headed to Borough Market, where Jim met us for lunch. After eating our way through the market, we strolled over to Tower Bridge and then made our way to the Tower of London. Below are Mom, Dad, and Jim standing in front of the Thames and then at the Tower of London, where we had a tour with one of the Beefeaters (yawn) and then climbed to the top of the White Tower, where Henry the VII's armor was displayed. We were fascinated by the large size of his armor--he was HUGE! I feel sorry for the horse he rode. We also were amused by the historic cup attached to the crotch area of his suit of armor, which was very prominant and protected his family jewels.
The next day, we headed to Frommagerie (I probably didn't spell that right), a great wine and cheese store which also has breakfast. Unfortunately, next to us was a man named Trevor, who was alternately trying to grope a young lady to his left and talk to my parents about politics and books and everything else that he was a know it all about. Jim and I, not being as charmed by the English personality and also not wanting to get into a discussion about our president and terrorism and religion, just focused on our eggs and cheese. Mom was incredibly restrained, and Dad was very friendly and managed to talk to Trevor all by himself for the entire time we were at breakfast. After breakfast, we ran into Trevor again on the street and he finally gave us a useful piece of information, which was that there was going to be a total eclipse of the moon on Saturday night and that the moon would turn red (all true, up and down our street were people gaping at the moon and total eclipse parties in upper balconies). After that, we dodged Trevor (who just kept popping up everywhere) and ducked into the tube station to head to Kew Gardens. But, just for entertainment purposes, here is a picture of Trevor talking to us about the eclipse:
Kew Gardens is about to burst open with flowers. We caught the very beginning of the budding, which is marked by a carpet of crocus on the lawn of the Gardens as we walked in. The Palm house was so humid and warm that we couldn't last long, but we enjoyed strolling around the gardens outside and if I still don't have a job in a month (likely), I might go back and see them again when things are in full bloom.
Jim, Mom, and Dad in Kew Gardens:
Jim poses with a dragon:
Mom in front of the daffodils:
Dad matched the blue flowers:
Jim in front of a tree filled with orchids:
After Kew Gardens, Mom and Dad got a good taste of what the tube can be like, as we waited for almost an hour for our tube to arrive and then had to switch lines because a train had broken down on ours. The experience was so horrible that Jim got sick and couldn't join us for dinner.
On Sunday, Chef Jim whipped up some delicious French Toast in honor of Mom's birthday. Dan and Meg joined us and we had a champagne brunch!
Then we instant messaged with Kate and got all the details about the gifts she received at her lingerie party:
Monday was the most action packed day of all (I think). We started the day off at the Tate Britain and then took a boat from Tate to Tate (Modern) down the Thames. It was a great way to see part of Central London. At the Tate Modern, there are very tall slides set up (an exhibit of some sort, I think). Dad and I slid down from the third floor and then from the fifth floor (pictures coming soon). We also enjoyed the art, although Mom was scandalized by how expensive the gift shops were and also by the fact that she didn't get to see the top two floors because we had to rush off to Covent Gardens. At Covent Gardens we refreshed ourselves with coffee and then shopped until we almost dropped. Dad headed back home to have dinner with Jim while Mom and I went to the Royal Opera House for the ballet. We saw Apollo and the world premier of Children of Adam, which was very sexual and sad. The third act was another more traditional dance and they were all really wonderful. Even though we were in the nosebleed section, we had a great view of the stage.
On Tuesday, we visited Jim in Canary Wharf and got to stand in the lobby of where here works, after having to go through several levels of security. He has great views of the city. After lunch, we headed to Greenwich, our old hood, where we walked along the Thames, visited the Maritime museum, and then trudged up the hill in Greenwich Park and stood on the Prime Meridian.
And finally, yesterday, Mom and Dad ended their trip with a 10 mile walk in the country along with the American Women's Club ladies. It was a beautiful day and they were great sports and didn't complain at all (see previous blog about the Winchester Walk complainers). Here they are in action and then at the pub where we stopped for lunch:
Sadly, today, Mom and Dad had to go home and relieve Aunt Sue of pet duty, so after a hearty breakfast at the Dawson House Hotel, I waved goodbye to them as they drove off in their mini cab and trudged home...alone again. :-(
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