16 December 2011
I woke up (again) to Lauren saying “Get up! We're late!” but this time she told me to look out the window. The view from her window is rural English Countryside-- Except its covered in snow!! I jumped up, threw on some clothes, and we went downstairs for a quick breakfast. Fun fact: you can purchase naan bread in England! So, we heated up some Naan bread and I threw some cheese on it. I'm having a lot of fun with the English cheese-- as Lauren puts it, “Americans think any cheese with holes is Swiss Cheese!” This cheese did have holes and did taste like swiss, but it was stronger. We braved the traffic in the snow and she threw me off at the corner to catch the train into Manchester while she went to work.
I ran up to purchase ingoing and return tickets at the gate and grabbed a coffee. I have learned that not only do the English hate putting cream in their drip coffee, but they also dislike drip coffee. I ordered a Latte (Mocha at no extra charge!) for less than what you'd pay in America, including the conversion rate.
I arrived in Manchester and started exploring. Relatively a low-key time. I stopped into a dollar store just to compare the things you'd find in the US to those you'd find in the UK. About the same. I went on down and stopped into an ALDI-- which some of you know I'm quite the fan of in the US. Far, far more selection and better quality food here! I got about halfway through when I discovered it opened up into a mall. I knew I didn't have any cash for purchases, so I decided to just window shop and peruse the options. I discovered the differences between some of the stores that we have and that the US has exported some of its worse stores, like Hollister, for instance.
I wandered through to the southern part of Manchester and didn't find anything outside of the stores. Many people quickly hurrying to make Christmas purchases. I stopped into my new favorite bistro-- Pret a Manger. I stopped for a bit and stole some WiFi.
I decided to move a little more and go find the Paperchase- a stationary store in England. I had no luck, so I stopped into a Starbucks to steal some more WiFi. This time, I sweet talked the barista into giving me some cream! Hurrah!
I finally made my way down to the Paperchase-- Three stories of beautiful stationary and writing supplies! (If you know me well enough, you know I'm a pen/pencil addict- my hobby is collecting Japanese erasers!) I bought a couple Christmas gifts and went back to the train station towards Macclesfield. Oh, and I found a Krispy Kreme in Manchester! Who woulda thunk it!
Lauren grabbed me at the train station as she got off of work. We came home and started some mulled wine! Lauren normally makes it from scratch, but she had a mulling cider and a bottle of wine that we threw into a pot. She also had decided that it was necessary to start eating the giant wheel of brie that was in her kitchen as well so we searched for a couple recipes and decided on baking the brie. We thawed out a puff pastry shell and grabbed strawberry jam, brown sugar and walnuts to make a most delicious (and messy) baked brie. Topped off with pears and it was a delicious dinner.
After dinner we went to walk around Bollington, the borough that she lives in. For her, this was a walk around her childhood town and a walk that she makes quite frequently. I took it more as a learning experience and bombarded her with questions. For instance, very few of the cars that you'd buy in Europe are cars you can get in the states. Also, you see very few older cars since their inspection requirements are so rigorous. We passed her childhood school, which is an affiliate of the Church of England. We watched several cars pass by on the one-laned roads and stopped to talk to other people walking along the way. She showed me “downtown” Bollington that had several corner pubs. I learned that pubs were mostly populated by people above 30 and it was usually a place to grab local brews and play chess. I peeked in-- and she was right. Not a very hopping establishment. We compared the different types of drinking from Europe to the US and the different establishments you can go in. It is perfectly acceptable and common for people above thirty to still be social drinkers without being alcoholics- which is not the case in the states. I then dragged Lauren into the local grocery store to compare and contrast some of the brands and things that the English had and we didn't. For instance-- they don't refrigerate their eggs! Also, I learned the small difference between a biscuit and a cookie. I also discovered, since I am a bartender, Stella Artois, a beer that is highly regarded in the states, is known as a terrible and very common beer in England!
We headed back towards home, watched some English TV (which I made Lauren translate for me again) and headed to an early bed in preparation for Leeds in the morning.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
The National Gallery and Journey to Macclesfield
I awoke this morning to Lauren kicking my legs-- “Surprise! We're late to the National Gallery!” I jumped up, threw on some clothes and makeup and grabbed my bag. We ran to the tube and caught the train to Trafalgar Square. We were about a half an hour late to meet Lauren's Canadian friend, Pat. We called several times with no avail, so we sat on the steps of Trafalgar and waited for her to call. We discovered that she was waiting in the very long queue for the Davinci exhibit. This was the queue for the tickets, not the actual exhibit. After almost toppling over with my large bag on the tube, I volunteered to wait with the bags so that the pair could grab some coffee.
As the line moved forward, I carried Pat and Lauren's bags, but kicked my large bag through the line. The verdict was in-- packed WAY too much. I was afraid all morning on the escalator that someone would accidentally knock me over and I'd demolish everyone on the way down like a giant American bowling ball. What's worse- I'd probably get to the bottom of the stair and be stuck on my back like a capsized turtle and need about five people to pick me back up.
We go midway through the line and I realized I needed to purchase my bus tickets. I left the pair with the bags and ran down the street to get some WiFi at the Starbucks. I came back with a 3pm reservation. Lauren and Pat had finally made it inside the museum and we went to check our bags at the museum. Fun fact: you can find a local museum and get them to hold your bags for free while you peruse the town- because that was exactly what we did.
After Pat and Lauren had bought their tickets, we went through the free part of the museum. My bus was leaving too early, so I wasn't able to see DaVinci. We wandered through the regular part of the museum and it was absolutely breathtaking. So many paintings I'd seen in classes but never got the chance to see in person. Van Gogh flowers, Monet lilies, Velazquez royalty among many other famous pieces.
I discovered in the museum that Pat was one of the most interesting characters I've met in a while. She is currently organizing the first annual South Asian Film Festival in Vancouver. The festival is receiving international attention and she has been successful in raising money for the festival. She is also one of the most inspiring people I've ever met for the accomplishments she's made. As she put it, she raised over a million dollars from her pj's while she was in chemotherapy. An incredibly strong woman. Originally from Glasgow, studied Asian studies at a small university in the UK. Moved later to Japan and then became a professional horse photographer who photographed horses at the Kentucky Derby. Never a dull story was told by Pat.
While we were at the museum we stumbled upon several tour groups- but one stuck out in particular. An elderly gentleman who looked a lot like Anthony Hopkins and the attitude of an actor and the knowledge of a professor was showing a group about some of the paintings. He was quick to point out some of the underlying meaning of the paintings and showed me some of the different things that we would have never caught about the paintings. Even though the man was an elderly gentleman, he sure could book it from one painting to the next. We had to really move to keep up with him.
In between paintings, Lauren and I sat down to look around in some of the galleries. I've never been one for art- I always use my science mind as a crutch when it comes to the creative things. But, for once, I took the time to soak in the ambiance of the gallery. I sat in front of some of the most famous paintings in the world- so much history and so many stories about the artwork.
After the tour dispersed, we headed to Wagamama- a Japanese noodle bar. This was a progressive noodle chain in the UK that specialized in ramen noodles. I was a bit leery because Ramen noodles in the states are the discusting ten cent noodles you buy when you're broke. Pat took us there and explained that she was obsessed with Asian food and Lauren said that she loved Wagamama. The restaurant was unique in that there were about five large tables with benches, where many people were sat. You took orders and they wrote your orders on your placemat and the wait staff brought them to you as they came out of the kitchen, not in parties. I ordered the Wagamama Ramen with several types of meats-- fishcake, tofu, grilled chicken, shrimp, and grilled fish. It was delish! Much, much better than packaged ramen.
We left lunch and went back around to the museum to pick up my bag. I said farewell to Pat and planned to see Lauren that evening. I walked through Trafalgar Square towards the station to make it to Victoria Coach station. I was just in time for the 3pm bus to Manchester.
Now, I've taken Megabus several times when I did my trip with Sam Kiley. The first bus we took from DC to NYC was crowded but comfortable. The second bus from NYC to Boston was very spacious and even had free WiFi. The third bus- a red eye from Boston to DC- was terrible. There were a group of about fifteen college-aged French girls who were so loud we couldn't get any sleep.
I boarded the bus, praying I'd get my own seat. I wasn't so lucky. There was a man next to me who I didn't really speak with, a man behing me who was listing to Nicki Minaj so loud through his headphones you could hear it three rows up, a guy in front of me reading a Playboy the entire trip and lo and behold, a group of loud French college-aged people to my right. Still dead tired from the jet-lag, wanting to sleep, but no mercy from the French.
There was a ton of traffic on the way north out of London. It's so fascinating-- but it gets dark at about 4pm. Maybe this may explain why the British are such depressed people. We stopped about halfway through to pick up someone who got on the wrong bus to Leeds. We arrived at Manchester probably about an hour later than we should have- about 8:30. I still had to take a train to Macclesfield, where Lauren lives.
I walked the half mile towards the Manchester Picadilly station and bought a one-way toward Lauren. A kind couple let me borrow their cell and I got ahold of Lauren to get a ride from the station in Macclesfield. The train took maybe twenty minutes and she was waiting at the bottom of the stairs at about 9:30! Lauren comes twice in two days to save the day!!
I pile my giant bag into the car and start to go get in her Honda.... on the wrong side. Whoops! Still not used to the backwards cars. We make our way through the small mill town and toward her house. I walk in to meet her Mom, her mother's boyfriend, and Lauren's kitten!! Lauren (like Maggie) is obsessed with cats. We had some pizza, skyped Maggles, and headed to bed for a much needed rest.
As the line moved forward, I carried Pat and Lauren's bags, but kicked my large bag through the line. The verdict was in-- packed WAY too much. I was afraid all morning on the escalator that someone would accidentally knock me over and I'd demolish everyone on the way down like a giant American bowling ball. What's worse- I'd probably get to the bottom of the stair and be stuck on my back like a capsized turtle and need about five people to pick me back up.
We go midway through the line and I realized I needed to purchase my bus tickets. I left the pair with the bags and ran down the street to get some WiFi at the Starbucks. I came back with a 3pm reservation. Lauren and Pat had finally made it inside the museum and we went to check our bags at the museum. Fun fact: you can find a local museum and get them to hold your bags for free while you peruse the town- because that was exactly what we did.
After Pat and Lauren had bought their tickets, we went through the free part of the museum. My bus was leaving too early, so I wasn't able to see DaVinci. We wandered through the regular part of the museum and it was absolutely breathtaking. So many paintings I'd seen in classes but never got the chance to see in person. Van Gogh flowers, Monet lilies, Velazquez royalty among many other famous pieces.
I discovered in the museum that Pat was one of the most interesting characters I've met in a while. She is currently organizing the first annual South Asian Film Festival in Vancouver. The festival is receiving international attention and she has been successful in raising money for the festival. She is also one of the most inspiring people I've ever met for the accomplishments she's made. As she put it, she raised over a million dollars from her pj's while she was in chemotherapy. An incredibly strong woman. Originally from Glasgow, studied Asian studies at a small university in the UK. Moved later to Japan and then became a professional horse photographer who photographed horses at the Kentucky Derby. Never a dull story was told by Pat.
While we were at the museum we stumbled upon several tour groups- but one stuck out in particular. An elderly gentleman who looked a lot like Anthony Hopkins and the attitude of an actor and the knowledge of a professor was showing a group about some of the paintings. He was quick to point out some of the underlying meaning of the paintings and showed me some of the different things that we would have never caught about the paintings. Even though the man was an elderly gentleman, he sure could book it from one painting to the next. We had to really move to keep up with him.
In between paintings, Lauren and I sat down to look around in some of the galleries. I've never been one for art- I always use my science mind as a crutch when it comes to the creative things. But, for once, I took the time to soak in the ambiance of the gallery. I sat in front of some of the most famous paintings in the world- so much history and so many stories about the artwork.
After the tour dispersed, we headed to Wagamama- a Japanese noodle bar. This was a progressive noodle chain in the UK that specialized in ramen noodles. I was a bit leery because Ramen noodles in the states are the discusting ten cent noodles you buy when you're broke. Pat took us there and explained that she was obsessed with Asian food and Lauren said that she loved Wagamama. The restaurant was unique in that there were about five large tables with benches, where many people were sat. You took orders and they wrote your orders on your placemat and the wait staff brought them to you as they came out of the kitchen, not in parties. I ordered the Wagamama Ramen with several types of meats-- fishcake, tofu, grilled chicken, shrimp, and grilled fish. It was delish! Much, much better than packaged ramen.
We left lunch and went back around to the museum to pick up my bag. I said farewell to Pat and planned to see Lauren that evening. I walked through Trafalgar Square towards the station to make it to Victoria Coach station. I was just in time for the 3pm bus to Manchester.
Now, I've taken Megabus several times when I did my trip with Sam Kiley. The first bus we took from DC to NYC was crowded but comfortable. The second bus from NYC to Boston was very spacious and even had free WiFi. The third bus- a red eye from Boston to DC- was terrible. There were a group of about fifteen college-aged French girls who were so loud we couldn't get any sleep.
I boarded the bus, praying I'd get my own seat. I wasn't so lucky. There was a man next to me who I didn't really speak with, a man behing me who was listing to Nicki Minaj so loud through his headphones you could hear it three rows up, a guy in front of me reading a Playboy the entire trip and lo and behold, a group of loud French college-aged people to my right. Still dead tired from the jet-lag, wanting to sleep, but no mercy from the French.
There was a ton of traffic on the way north out of London. It's so fascinating-- but it gets dark at about 4pm. Maybe this may explain why the British are such depressed people. We stopped about halfway through to pick up someone who got on the wrong bus to Leeds. We arrived at Manchester probably about an hour later than we should have- about 8:30. I still had to take a train to Macclesfield, where Lauren lives.
I walked the half mile towards the Manchester Picadilly station and bought a one-way toward Lauren. A kind couple let me borrow their cell and I got ahold of Lauren to get a ride from the station in Macclesfield. The train took maybe twenty minutes and she was waiting at the bottom of the stairs at about 9:30! Lauren comes twice in two days to save the day!!
I pile my giant bag into the car and start to go get in her Honda.... on the wrong side. Whoops! Still not used to the backwards cars. We make our way through the small mill town and toward her house. I walk in to meet her Mom, her mother's boyfriend, and Lauren's kitten!! Lauren (like Maggie) is obsessed with cats. We had some pizza, skyped Maggles, and headed to bed for a much needed rest.
ENTER LAUREN ENGLAND
The next morning, I woke up on my first watch alarm (Sarah Smith- Look at me go!) and hopped in the shower. I helped myself to a small bowl of cereal downstair and headed to the Shepard's Bush stop. A short train line in and I arrived at Oxford Circus.
Now, for those of you keeping track at home, I don't exactly have a cell phone. No phone. Whatsoever. I was supposed to meet Lauren outside of the barriers at the station. I arrived at 9:30 and waited. 9:45 rolls around and.... still no Lauren. I run up to the other side to find the barriers and still no sign of my new British friend. 9:50. 9:55. Still can't find her. I run up into the street, pull out my netbook to email her phone, but couldn't grab service. Finally, I see her walking from one of the turnstiles!! I run up and give her a giant hug-- finally the first person to know my name!!
We start walking down the street. She has come into town because she needs to get a Visa to move to Asheville. She will be working as an assistant in children's home in that area. She's afraid that she won't be issued the visa, so she's rather nervous.
We stop into a Starbucks so I can grab some Wifi. I also discover here two things: First, my credit card is very unique. Most Europeans have a chip in their card that they scan and they don't use the swipe function. So, every time I make a purchase, I have to validate my signature. Second, the Europeans don't believe in cream in their coffee-- only skim and whole milk. Blech. Not a fan.
We walk down to Grosvenor's Square (Grateful Dead lyrics commense) to sit in the park bench before her interview. Fat pidgeons, homeless people drinking wine, no big deal. I take her cell phone and other electronics for her to go through security. I walk back to the Starbucks to wait for Lauren and to make some further plans for my next trip. About two hours later, Lauren comes back with a smile- she got the visa!!
We head down to Hyde Park and sweep back through the Winter Wonderland. This time it's in the daytime, so a different experience. Walking through what looks like a Christmas theme park, I find my dream bar. The bar that we've all searched for ever since we've been exposed to the glory of Hunter S. Thompson----
A rotating carousel bar.
Yes, a la “Fear and Loathing”- I found it. I was not on mescaline as Dr. Gonzo was, but rather jet lagged. Same thing, right? We grabbed a cup of mulled wine, a new treat for me and watched the park circulate around us.
We left and went across the way towards The Queen. We found a Pret a Manger and Lauren told me how to properly pronounce the name of his restaurant. I ate a delicious baguette sandwich and Lauren exposed me to the English definition of “Pickle.” This is not the pickle we know of (which they call “gerkins” it's rather a spread. Quite delicious.
After lunch, we walked down to Buckingham Palace to say hello to the Queen. Found the men in fuzzy hats. Flag up, Queen was in.
Next, we walked down the path to Parliament. Looked at the outside of the Westminster Abbey, walked around the park to go be tourists and take pictures with Big Ben. We then headed back to the apartment where Lauren's friend Lucy lives. She had a small flat with two other flatmates but I had yet to meet any of the three. We turned on Lauren's phone to see where we were going to spend the evening around town. She suggested going to Camden, which I had heard about from a couple other people around town. We found an American blues bar that advertised a full bourbon bar, which I insisted we go to. Lauren is moving to Asheville, she must be educated!!
We took the tube into Camden. I cannot believe how absolutely cool this place was! Tons of little hippie shops all around. We found a group of food kiosks and chose to eat some indian. I had the Tikka Masala and Lauren had the daal. After I gorged myself with the deliciousness, we headed up the street toward the Bourbon restaurant.
Ok, so we walk in the bar and go straight to look at the selection. I ask the bartender for a menu of the bottles and my jaw DROPS. Evan Williams, Old Granddad, Ancient Age, and OLD CROW are all MORE EXPENSIVE than Maker's Mark, Woodford Reserve, and Buffalo Trace. What is up with you Brits?! I mean, not going to complain, but really?! I tasted a top shelf, very corn-y tasting White Lightening-tasting Buffalo Trace small batch and Lauren and I split the Maker's and Buffalo Trace on the rocks. I was in heaven, at less than 4 pounds a glass, but for Lauren, it was an acquired taste. Never fear, Lauren. We will teach you the ways.
Lauren phoned home to Lucy and we discovered we had stolen her house key! So, we chugged down the bourbon and headed back towards Lucy's apartment. En route, we stopped at a local store to buy Lauren's favorite snack, Percy Pigs! These were little raspberry flavored gummy pigs- and they were delicious. We used this as a gift for Lucy for locking her out.
We made it back to the house and I met her two roommates. At this time, I discovered “squash.” This was a very concentrated “cordial” that you add to your water to give it some taste. Interesting, but not sure if it'd take off in the US.
We headed towards bed and realized that it may be necessary for me to arrange a way back to Macclesfield with Lauren the next day. We looked up some train tickets and discovered that the train would be an outrageous 60 pounds for me to go back with her. When all else fails, Megabus it!! I found a 9 pound bus to Manchester and then a 3 pound train to Macclesfield- problem solved. I grabbed the loveseat (which I was far too tall for) and eventually resorted to sprawling out on the hardwood floor.
Now, for those of you keeping track at home, I don't exactly have a cell phone. No phone. Whatsoever. I was supposed to meet Lauren outside of the barriers at the station. I arrived at 9:30 and waited. 9:45 rolls around and.... still no Lauren. I run up to the other side to find the barriers and still no sign of my new British friend. 9:50. 9:55. Still can't find her. I run up into the street, pull out my netbook to email her phone, but couldn't grab service. Finally, I see her walking from one of the turnstiles!! I run up and give her a giant hug-- finally the first person to know my name!!
We start walking down the street. She has come into town because she needs to get a Visa to move to Asheville. She will be working as an assistant in children's home in that area. She's afraid that she won't be issued the visa, so she's rather nervous.
We stop into a Starbucks so I can grab some Wifi. I also discover here two things: First, my credit card is very unique. Most Europeans have a chip in their card that they scan and they don't use the swipe function. So, every time I make a purchase, I have to validate my signature. Second, the Europeans don't believe in cream in their coffee-- only skim and whole milk. Blech. Not a fan.
We walk down to Grosvenor's Square (Grateful Dead lyrics commense) to sit in the park bench before her interview. Fat pidgeons, homeless people drinking wine, no big deal. I take her cell phone and other electronics for her to go through security. I walk back to the Starbucks to wait for Lauren and to make some further plans for my next trip. About two hours later, Lauren comes back with a smile- she got the visa!!
We head down to Hyde Park and sweep back through the Winter Wonderland. This time it's in the daytime, so a different experience. Walking through what looks like a Christmas theme park, I find my dream bar. The bar that we've all searched for ever since we've been exposed to the glory of Hunter S. Thompson----
A rotating carousel bar.
Yes, a la “Fear and Loathing”- I found it. I was not on mescaline as Dr. Gonzo was, but rather jet lagged. Same thing, right? We grabbed a cup of mulled wine, a new treat for me and watched the park circulate around us.
We left and went across the way towards The Queen. We found a Pret a Manger and Lauren told me how to properly pronounce the name of his restaurant. I ate a delicious baguette sandwich and Lauren exposed me to the English definition of “Pickle.” This is not the pickle we know of (which they call “gerkins” it's rather a spread. Quite delicious.
After lunch, we walked down to Buckingham Palace to say hello to the Queen. Found the men in fuzzy hats. Flag up, Queen was in.
Next, we walked down the path to Parliament. Looked at the outside of the Westminster Abbey, walked around the park to go be tourists and take pictures with Big Ben. We then headed back to the apartment where Lauren's friend Lucy lives. She had a small flat with two other flatmates but I had yet to meet any of the three. We turned on Lauren's phone to see where we were going to spend the evening around town. She suggested going to Camden, which I had heard about from a couple other people around town. We found an American blues bar that advertised a full bourbon bar, which I insisted we go to. Lauren is moving to Asheville, she must be educated!!
We took the tube into Camden. I cannot believe how absolutely cool this place was! Tons of little hippie shops all around. We found a group of food kiosks and chose to eat some indian. I had the Tikka Masala and Lauren had the daal. After I gorged myself with the deliciousness, we headed up the street toward the Bourbon restaurant.
Ok, so we walk in the bar and go straight to look at the selection. I ask the bartender for a menu of the bottles and my jaw DROPS. Evan Williams, Old Granddad, Ancient Age, and OLD CROW are all MORE EXPENSIVE than Maker's Mark, Woodford Reserve, and Buffalo Trace. What is up with you Brits?! I mean, not going to complain, but really?! I tasted a top shelf, very corn-y tasting White Lightening-tasting Buffalo Trace small batch and Lauren and I split the Maker's and Buffalo Trace on the rocks. I was in heaven, at less than 4 pounds a glass, but for Lauren, it was an acquired taste. Never fear, Lauren. We will teach you the ways.
Lauren phoned home to Lucy and we discovered we had stolen her house key! So, we chugged down the bourbon and headed back towards Lucy's apartment. En route, we stopped at a local store to buy Lauren's favorite snack, Percy Pigs! These were little raspberry flavored gummy pigs- and they were delicious. We used this as a gift for Lucy for locking her out.
We made it back to the house and I met her two roommates. At this time, I discovered “squash.” This was a very concentrated “cordial” that you add to your water to give it some taste. Interesting, but not sure if it'd take off in the US.
We headed towards bed and realized that it may be necessary for me to arrange a way back to Macclesfield with Lauren the next day. We looked up some train tickets and discovered that the train would be an outrageous 60 pounds for me to go back with her. When all else fails, Megabus it!! I found a 9 pound bus to Manchester and then a 3 pound train to Macclesfield- problem solved. I grabbed the loveseat (which I was far too tall for) and eventually resorted to sprawling out on the hardwood floor.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
First Jet-Lagged Day in Europe
Dec 13 2011
So, I get off the plane. A long-needed stretch of my legs, and realize that I have had no sleep whatsoever. So, this makes about 2 hours of sleep for the past 48 hours- yay!
I get off and walk to the baggage claim with the two gentlemen who sat next to me on the plane. They were telling me a couple great hints but unfortunately, my short term memory wasn't working properly on account of my lack of sleep. So, I get off, make it to the Tube and purchase an all-day pass and follow the directions that Parker made me to get to Hammersmith.
Well..... Sorry, Maggie darling, directions were wrong. The particular train stop at Turning Green was only working in early morning or late evening. So, I made some friends with people with nice coats who were therefore English. Maggie told me in my directions that if I got lost to ask people with nice coats for directions because they were English. So, these two girls were just getting back from long trips in NYC and helped me get to Hammersmith. I got off, switched tubes and started walking towards Andy Menasche's house. So, I walk maybe about ten blocks, get a tad bit lost-- but find the apartment! Key is outside the door, just as instructed.
I walk in the door, practically kissing the ground that I'd made it across the pond, and meet their Ecuadorian cleaning lady, who I have a short Spanish conversation with. She shows me the way to the room I am staying in and I drop my things. I then make it down the street to a local pub for some WiFi to tell my family I made it alive. I return back to the house in a sleep-deprived delerium. I set down my computer to charge, eat the rest of a sandwich I bought in Newark, and sit down for a minute.
So, I wake up seven hours later to a knock at the door. So much for busting through my jet-lag! Evidently, I'd closed my eyes and didn't quite open them for a while. Then, I had this fight with the door and they keys- their house key looks like a piece of Swiss cheese and the only way to open the door is to use said piece of Swiss cheese. So, I did this “Hold on, I'm coming to the door-- wait, hold on- uh, wait- uh, key??” I opened the door for someone asking for Ms. Menasche, who was out with her daughter at the hospital for an operation. I put on my coat and decided to head down to the pub again to grab some WiFi. I realized I had purchased an all-day ticket on the tube and headed to the Hammersmith station. The only line I knew I'd be able to grab was the Picadilly line. I had about two hours until my pass stopped, so I rode into town.
I stopped first at the Hyde Park corner of the Picadilly line. There were a ton of people coming onto the train. I later saw that this was from the Winter Wonderland that was happening in the park. There was a huge automated sign that said “BEWARE OF PICKPOCKETS” so I stopped to fasten my messenger bag and headed into the German-themed Christmas market. Jager shots? On the streets of London? I didn't partake myself, thanks to Chris McDonald and his love of Jager and my hatred of it, but I marvled at how different the liquor laws were here. I then headed back to the Picadilly line into Picadilly Circus. I found something that looked akin to Times Square and really turned me off about the area. I looked into several pubs and found a large three-story club looking Irish pub. I ordered a Heineken and looked around. Mostly tourists, so rather boring. I figured I'd resort to talking to the bartender with no luck. I heard a quick line of an American accent and turned around to find a pink-haired girl who was from Minnesota, of all places. She was with a co-worker from Ireland. The two were in women's shoe design in London. We grabbed a table and had a short and pieced conversation. I'm quickly discovering that London isn't quite the place for talking to strangers.
I headed back to the tube to the St. Pancras station. I was told by the bartender at the hotel that this was the best place to find information about the Eurostar. I heard this had something to do with Platform 9 ¾, you Potter fans, but I didn't seek it out. I looked for some brochures about the rail line with no luck. At quarter til 12, just before my pass expired, I rode the line back to Hammersmith and walked back into the house. I found an email from my new best friend-- Lauren England!! We were to meet at the Oxford Circus station at 9:45 the next morning. I set an alarm on my watch, praying I'd get up in time.
So, I get off the plane. A long-needed stretch of my legs, and realize that I have had no sleep whatsoever. So, this makes about 2 hours of sleep for the past 48 hours- yay!
I get off and walk to the baggage claim with the two gentlemen who sat next to me on the plane. They were telling me a couple great hints but unfortunately, my short term memory wasn't working properly on account of my lack of sleep. So, I get off, make it to the Tube and purchase an all-day pass and follow the directions that Parker made me to get to Hammersmith.
Well..... Sorry, Maggie darling, directions were wrong. The particular train stop at Turning Green was only working in early morning or late evening. So, I made some friends with people with nice coats who were therefore English. Maggie told me in my directions that if I got lost to ask people with nice coats for directions because they were English. So, these two girls were just getting back from long trips in NYC and helped me get to Hammersmith. I got off, switched tubes and started walking towards Andy Menasche's house. So, I walk maybe about ten blocks, get a tad bit lost-- but find the apartment! Key is outside the door, just as instructed.
I walk in the door, practically kissing the ground that I'd made it across the pond, and meet their Ecuadorian cleaning lady, who I have a short Spanish conversation with. She shows me the way to the room I am staying in and I drop my things. I then make it down the street to a local pub for some WiFi to tell my family I made it alive. I return back to the house in a sleep-deprived delerium. I set down my computer to charge, eat the rest of a sandwich I bought in Newark, and sit down for a minute.
So, I wake up seven hours later to a knock at the door. So much for busting through my jet-lag! Evidently, I'd closed my eyes and didn't quite open them for a while. Then, I had this fight with the door and they keys- their house key looks like a piece of Swiss cheese and the only way to open the door is to use said piece of Swiss cheese. So, I did this “Hold on, I'm coming to the door-- wait, hold on- uh, wait- uh, key??” I opened the door for someone asking for Ms. Menasche, who was out with her daughter at the hospital for an operation. I put on my coat and decided to head down to the pub again to grab some WiFi. I realized I had purchased an all-day ticket on the tube and headed to the Hammersmith station. The only line I knew I'd be able to grab was the Picadilly line. I had about two hours until my pass stopped, so I rode into town.
I stopped first at the Hyde Park corner of the Picadilly line. There were a ton of people coming onto the train. I later saw that this was from the Winter Wonderland that was happening in the park. There was a huge automated sign that said “BEWARE OF PICKPOCKETS” so I stopped to fasten my messenger bag and headed into the German-themed Christmas market. Jager shots? On the streets of London? I didn't partake myself, thanks to Chris McDonald and his love of Jager and my hatred of it, but I marvled at how different the liquor laws were here. I then headed back to the Picadilly line into Picadilly Circus. I found something that looked akin to Times Square and really turned me off about the area. I looked into several pubs and found a large three-story club looking Irish pub. I ordered a Heineken and looked around. Mostly tourists, so rather boring. I figured I'd resort to talking to the bartender with no luck. I heard a quick line of an American accent and turned around to find a pink-haired girl who was from Minnesota, of all places. She was with a co-worker from Ireland. The two were in women's shoe design in London. We grabbed a table and had a short and pieced conversation. I'm quickly discovering that London isn't quite the place for talking to strangers.
I headed back to the tube to the St. Pancras station. I was told by the bartender at the hotel that this was the best place to find information about the Eurostar. I heard this had something to do with Platform 9 ¾, you Potter fans, but I didn't seek it out. I looked for some brochures about the rail line with no luck. At quarter til 12, just before my pass expired, I rode the line back to Hammersmith and walked back into the house. I found an email from my new best friend-- Lauren England!! We were to meet at the Oxford Circus station at 9:45 the next morning. I set an alarm on my watch, praying I'd get up in time.
MADE IT ACROSS THE POND!!
12 December 2011
So, it begins.
All starting the night of the 11th: I pick up my phone to text Maggie Parker and in doing so, receive a message from my secret friend,
Maggie Parker: “You. Me. Bottle of Wine.”
Me: “I HAVE TO PAAAAAAACCKKKK!”
Maggie: “You. Me. Bottle of Wine. Packing”
Me: “Yes, but only if bourbon is involved as well.”
(OK, maybe I'm paraphrasing. But this is about how EVERY Rynne-Maggie conversation goes)
So, Mags comes over, we pour a bottle of Cab into two glasses equally portioned for our thirst. She drinking hers faster than I was drinking mine, but regardless, we got the job done. I packed (after packing, unpacking, packing, unpacking, packing, unpacking, packing, and unpacking AGAIN- at the suggestion a James Douglas I know) Maggie did an excellent job of writing down directions for me as I got off the plane in Heathrow.
Laundry, done. Packing, done. Dishes, done.
4:30 rolls around and I crawl onto the couch on account of my poor roommate Sarah and her strep throat.
Fast forward a lovely three hours and I am woken up on my FIRST alarm (YES SARAH, IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED) with the only thought in my head as “!&#^ I'm leaving for EUROPE today!!!?!?!??!” Several pep-talks to myself in the bathroom mirror commenced.
Then, at a beautiful 8am, I whipped through a to-do list like my life depended on it. Registration card, signed. Registrar visited twice. (Very overdue) library books returned. Texas Pete picked up straight from the source (Yeah, it happened). Cellar balance cleared after talking to Public safety (four times), dining services (twice) and IT (twice). Ed in IT also fixed the lovely netbook I'm typing on this very second with his awesome judo-chop BIOS installation skills. Coffee with Micaela at the Krank. Maintenance called about the broken railing... that may or may not have been my fault?? (Flat 306 ladies, my apologies)
In the bittersweet category, my bestie Nicki and her man Mel came to give me a hug goodbye. Sammi came by to with me farewell. I mean, I'm gonna miss Sammi, but lets face it. I'm gonna miss Kelsey. My blue mohawked friend, we will meet again. And our bagpipe music will commence.
SO. The lovely Nicki Bennet came by to check me out of the flat, and then I was OFF! Dropped by and picked up Micaela in Main Hall where she was doing celebratory semester finishing dances. Drove over to my grandmother's to unpack the Subaru (SAD!) and pack up her Prius in preparation for trekking to the GSO airport.
In my hectic running around, I unfortunately misplaced my laptop cover! GASP! So, Micaela suggested using a pillowcase. When Judy discovered that it was for my laptop, her reply was to just make a case, of course! In the thirty minutes I had until we had to leave.... So, we did it! I used some old fleece and some scraps from her latest quilting project and pretty pink ribbon. Oh, yeah. It's cute. Real cute. Grandmother Judy to the rescue!
So, en route to the airport. I'm packing and repacking and packing and repacking and packing and repacking my carry-ons (still brought too much crap on board with me)
At the airport-ah the butterflies- tickets are obtained. Make moves to go to the gate, when we take every possible photo combination of Judy, Bill, Micaela and me. Onward to security! They of course make me take off all kinds of metal and I of course hold up the line with all. of. my. stuff. Made it through security and commenced a rather compulsory waving battle with Judy, Bill and Micaela that started before security and continued until I got to the gate.
Boarded plane to Newark. Boring. Seats uncomfortable. Woman next to me was complaining about changing diapers all day and her husband being a professional race car driver. Fun stuff.
Land in Newark and get a nice view of the city as I land in. Get of and shuttled to the international (!!!) terminal. Go walk around duty free shops, nothing too spectacular since I loathe perfume and makeup. Bought a sandwich of sorts from a group of Nigerian men. Fun stuff. Tempted to sit down with a cute yuppie couple with a cockney accent, but didn't get the nerve. Must work on that one if I am to survive the trip.
Board the plane, thought for a hot minute I had three seats to myself, but alas, two men sat next to me. I made the grave (and potentially hazardous) mistake of asking the gentlemen where they were from in Britain and they were of course from Ireland. Whoops. Just stamp a sign that says “Sorry, Stupid American” on my forehead. I asked the guys all about Dublin and I think that one will be added to the trip itinerary..... Hm..... ponder ponder ponder....
Turn on this (awesome) new touch screen deal that they have for the in-flight entertainment. I could pick between like 20 movies, 50 TV shows, games, flight maps and music. Movie choices started with “The Way” which was an excellent movie-- but started off with a young man hitchhiking through Spain and getting killed so the father finishes the journey with his ashes. Hm. Not something I want to watch, as I picture my grandparents doing the same for me in some small town in France..... Other choices? How about “Taken.” Hell-to-the-no.
So, watch some Big Bang Theory- which has been highly recommended to me on several occaisions, but I have never watched. Let me take this opportunity to tell each and every one of you that being an intellegent science person does NOT make you asocial and geeky!! (Reference: XKCD comic on the difference between geeks and nerds. I rest my case.)
Can't sleep. At all. Switched my watch, messed around with the netbook. Discovered I had a very powerful thirst and an empty water bottle. So, naturally, I used this as an excellent excuse to go hang out with the stewards in the back of the plane!! My upside-down periodic table shirt was a great conversation starter. One of the stewards was (get this) a Mormon living in Harlem who was currently using this steward position to pay for his passion of being a touring stand-up improv comedian. You can't make this stuff up. Not only that, but he had two roommates from Pocatello. SMALL WORLD. I told him that he was the only Mormon in New York City and those must be the only Idahoans in the Big Apple. Another woman who was a stewardess was from Virginia and lived in Charleston- but as we discovered, could not do the Charleston.
Fun fact: on United you can listen to Florence and the Machine AND Derek Trucks!! Woot!!
LANDING. THIS IS OCCURING.
So, it begins.
All starting the night of the 11th: I pick up my phone to text Maggie Parker and in doing so, receive a message from my secret friend,
Maggie Parker: “You. Me. Bottle of Wine.”
Me: “I HAVE TO PAAAAAAACCKKKK!”
Maggie: “You. Me. Bottle of Wine. Packing”
Me: “Yes, but only if bourbon is involved as well.”
(OK, maybe I'm paraphrasing. But this is about how EVERY Rynne-Maggie conversation goes)
So, Mags comes over, we pour a bottle of Cab into two glasses equally portioned for our thirst. She drinking hers faster than I was drinking mine, but regardless, we got the job done. I packed (after packing, unpacking, packing, unpacking, packing, unpacking, packing, and unpacking AGAIN- at the suggestion a James Douglas I know) Maggie did an excellent job of writing down directions for me as I got off the plane in Heathrow.
Laundry, done. Packing, done. Dishes, done.
4:30 rolls around and I crawl onto the couch on account of my poor roommate Sarah and her strep throat.
Fast forward a lovely three hours and I am woken up on my FIRST alarm (YES SARAH, IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED) with the only thought in my head as “!&#^ I'm leaving for EUROPE today!!!?!?!??!” Several pep-talks to myself in the bathroom mirror commenced.
Then, at a beautiful 8am, I whipped through a to-do list like my life depended on it. Registration card, signed. Registrar visited twice. (Very overdue) library books returned. Texas Pete picked up straight from the source (Yeah, it happened). Cellar balance cleared after talking to Public safety (four times), dining services (twice) and IT (twice). Ed in IT also fixed the lovely netbook I'm typing on this very second with his awesome judo-chop BIOS installation skills. Coffee with Micaela at the Krank. Maintenance called about the broken railing... that may or may not have been my fault?? (Flat 306 ladies, my apologies)
In the bittersweet category, my bestie Nicki and her man Mel came to give me a hug goodbye. Sammi came by to with me farewell. I mean, I'm gonna miss Sammi, but lets face it. I'm gonna miss Kelsey. My blue mohawked friend, we will meet again. And our bagpipe music will commence.
SO. The lovely Nicki Bennet came by to check me out of the flat, and then I was OFF! Dropped by and picked up Micaela in Main Hall where she was doing celebratory semester finishing dances. Drove over to my grandmother's to unpack the Subaru (SAD!) and pack up her Prius in preparation for trekking to the GSO airport.
In my hectic running around, I unfortunately misplaced my laptop cover! GASP! So, Micaela suggested using a pillowcase. When Judy discovered that it was for my laptop, her reply was to just make a case, of course! In the thirty minutes I had until we had to leave.... So, we did it! I used some old fleece and some scraps from her latest quilting project and pretty pink ribbon. Oh, yeah. It's cute. Real cute. Grandmother Judy to the rescue!
So, en route to the airport. I'm packing and repacking and packing and repacking and packing and repacking my carry-ons (still brought too much crap on board with me)
At the airport-ah the butterflies- tickets are obtained. Make moves to go to the gate, when we take every possible photo combination of Judy, Bill, Micaela and me. Onward to security! They of course make me take off all kinds of metal and I of course hold up the line with all. of. my. stuff. Made it through security and commenced a rather compulsory waving battle with Judy, Bill and Micaela that started before security and continued until I got to the gate.
Boarded plane to Newark. Boring. Seats uncomfortable. Woman next to me was complaining about changing diapers all day and her husband being a professional race car driver. Fun stuff.
Land in Newark and get a nice view of the city as I land in. Get of and shuttled to the international (!!!) terminal. Go walk around duty free shops, nothing too spectacular since I loathe perfume and makeup. Bought a sandwich of sorts from a group of Nigerian men. Fun stuff. Tempted to sit down with a cute yuppie couple with a cockney accent, but didn't get the nerve. Must work on that one if I am to survive the trip.
Board the plane, thought for a hot minute I had three seats to myself, but alas, two men sat next to me. I made the grave (and potentially hazardous) mistake of asking the gentlemen where they were from in Britain and they were of course from Ireland. Whoops. Just stamp a sign that says “Sorry, Stupid American” on my forehead. I asked the guys all about Dublin and I think that one will be added to the trip itinerary..... Hm..... ponder ponder ponder....
Turn on this (awesome) new touch screen deal that they have for the in-flight entertainment. I could pick between like 20 movies, 50 TV shows, games, flight maps and music. Movie choices started with “The Way” which was an excellent movie-- but started off with a young man hitchhiking through Spain and getting killed so the father finishes the journey with his ashes. Hm. Not something I want to watch, as I picture my grandparents doing the same for me in some small town in France..... Other choices? How about “Taken.” Hell-to-the-no.
So, watch some Big Bang Theory- which has been highly recommended to me on several occaisions, but I have never watched. Let me take this opportunity to tell each and every one of you that being an intellegent science person does NOT make you asocial and geeky!! (Reference: XKCD comic on the difference between geeks and nerds. I rest my case.)
Can't sleep. At all. Switched my watch, messed around with the netbook. Discovered I had a very powerful thirst and an empty water bottle. So, naturally, I used this as an excellent excuse to go hang out with the stewards in the back of the plane!! My upside-down periodic table shirt was a great conversation starter. One of the stewards was (get this) a Mormon living in Harlem who was currently using this steward position to pay for his passion of being a touring stand-up improv comedian. You can't make this stuff up. Not only that, but he had two roommates from Pocatello. SMALL WORLD. I told him that he was the only Mormon in New York City and those must be the only Idahoans in the Big Apple. Another woman who was a stewardess was from Virginia and lived in Charleston- but as we discovered, could not do the Charleston.
Fun fact: on United you can listen to Florence and the Machine AND Derek Trucks!! Woot!!
LANDING. THIS IS OCCURING.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Elizabeth's Cake
Last Sunday, One of my dear friends, Elizabeth Garner, turned 20! So, what better way to celebrate than a great cake, right? Elizabeth, also self dubbed "E in the Pink" (insert giggles here), is obsessed with the color pink. She claims to have worn some item of clothing that was pink since she was in the fifth grade. A little dedicated, don't you think?
So, I started with the obvious- pink cake, right? A friend later suggested to make a pink checkerboard cake- far more genius than my idea. Elizabeth, who attended Sweet Briar College in VA, still adores the school colors, pink and green.
So, I started with the obvious- pink cake, right? A friend later suggested to make a pink checkerboard cake- far more genius than my idea. Elizabeth, who attended Sweet Briar College in VA, still adores the school colors, pink and green.
I had to get two large bottles of red and green food coloring, but it was worth it!
I found a standard checkerboard set at Michaels- Wilton's brand I believe. The batter was a standard pound cake recipe. 
Alternating colors were used to create the checkerboard effect when cut. Since three pans were used, there would be nine squares in all in a cut piece.
Oh yeah, and of course- the icing!!!
Pink and green, of course, to keep with the colors. Nice pale pink for the background, dark pink for the writing, and dark green for the edging. Accidentally dropped the bottle of green- not the lime green I intended- whoops!! I obviously needed my typography geek Elizabeth to help me center letters, tee hee. 
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