It is very unlikely that we'll be going very far this year; it's August already and international travel is still a very fluid avenue in the wake of the global pandemic. It was safe to travel to Spain a couple weeks ago, and now it isn't. You might book a holiday in France, Greece, or any of the other 'air bridge' or 'travel corridor' countries, only to have the rules change partway through your holiday and find yourself needing to self-isolate for two weeks when you come home. Even worse, it might change as you board your plane, and you'll find yourself spending your vacation in quarantine instead. Not what you'd call a good use of holiday time and money!
Hopefully we can make up for the lack of travel next year, assuming conditions improve, but in the mean time I thought I would write some throw-back posts to the places I visited last year but never got around to writing about. First on that list is last August's day-trip to our Emerald Isle neighbour, a stop-over before we headed to Northern Ireland to visit friends.
This trip did not get off to a very promising start. A very early flight, horrendous airport queues and a sleepless night meant Sean and I were snipping sharply at each other at Luton airport and by the time we dropped our bags off at the hotel in Dublin, we were barely speaking. Despite that, we headed to Trinity college first thing, walking about 20 meters apart the whole way there. Sean wasn't all that interested in seeing the college or the library in the first place, and I was too angry and upset to appreciate our surroundings or summon the patience to wait in the queues. We lost each other (unconsciously deliberately, perhaps?) as we wandered around the grounds, choosing not to buy tickets and reaching a boiling point. Ultimately, we had a blow-out row in the square (in hushed voices and restrained body language, in true British fashion) and, still feeling a little prickly but decidedly less angry, left to find breakfast - together this time. #couplegoals
Dublin castle was next on our list, and we were much more relaxed around each other for this tourist site, though still subdued and tired. Dublin castle was a strange building, not really resembling a castle in the way you would normally expect. Much of it was relatively new (compared to the original stone keep) and painted in bold primary colours on the outside that in no way resembled any castle I had seen before. It was a really interesting historical building though, and I enjoyed learning a bit more about Ireland's political and social history. I know plenty about Ireland's folklore and not much else, so I learned plenty new on this trip.
When you travel as a couple, it's a very different experience to travelling with friends or on your own. I don't know about anyone else, but I spend a lot of the trip worrying that we're not getting to do things that Sean might want to do. I tend to choose the sites we visit, how we get from place to place, the order we do things in. It's mostly because I like to have an itinerary when we travel and for me, part of the build-up of excitement before the trip comes from the planning and working out of how to do and see all the amazing things. Sean tends to book the flights and the accommodation, as he's much better at finding great deals in lush places than I am. He's rarely involved much in the itinerary side as he's much more relaxed when he travels: he likes to arrive and see what looks good or interesting, to leave things open to do what might take his fancy as and when. I love the idea of this, but in my experience (with both friends, and even travelling on my own), this inevitably leads to endless loops of 'what do you want to do?' 'I don't know. What would you like to do?' The flip side to planning an itinerary though, is that I feel like I'm dragging Sean all over to places he's not really interested in seeing. It has led to a lot of tension in the past when we travel, and unfortunately Dublin was no different, because he's happy to go with the flow and I'm constantly hounding him to tell me what he wants to do.
I can often be paralysed with indecision over silly things and don't have a lot of patience. Sean and I are both very stubborn too, which usually makes our arguments impressive, to say the least. I also don't do well on very little sleep, nor do I say what I want to do because I don't want to inconvenience anyone else, which, understandably, drives Sean crazy. None of this makes me an easy person to travel with - especially not when I care very much about my partner enjoying his holiday too. The two of us have got quite a bit to learn about reacting to each other before we can have a blissful totally tension-free holiday. Though perhaps I'm just doing that classic social-media thing were I assume everyone else has those blissful tension-free holidays so I must be doing things wrong. Do other people argue with their partners over missed trains, unpurchased tickets, and confusing airport queues too? Despite our lack of sleep, we packed a lot into our single full day in Dublin. After the castle we made our way to St Patrick's Cathedral, where we wandered with hushed steps and voices around the cool stone building, lingering in patches of coloured sunlight from the stunning stained glass windows. If you only have a day in Dublin, I definitely recommend St Patrick's Cathedral over Christ Church. Especially if you're a Literature fan - St Patrick's is where Jonathan Swift was Dean and there is a whole section devoted to his history and involvement with the church.
Next on our list was the Guiness Storehouse, the only site in Dublin that Sean had added to our itinerary. Certainly it was his favourite bit of the Dublin day, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was mine as well. The tour was really interesting and well worth the ticket cost (€25 for the Guiness Uncovered package) and there was so much to see in the building itself that we wandered back through it after the tour. The ticket we bought included a 60 minute session with a 'taste specialist' and a tasting session. I found it fascinating to listen to, but wasn't as keen on the tasting part (I am not a beer drinker). I did sip it before passing my portion on to Sean though. We also got a drink ticket which we could redeem at the Gravity Bar on the top floor, with panoramic views of Dublin. We enjoyed the views and the drinks, moving downstairs to the restaurant when it got too crowded in the Gravity Bar, and ordering a few more drinks to enjoy at a window table, with a still-stunning view of the city. It felt wonderful, and is probably where we both finally completely and utterly relaxed around each other again. I highly recommend a visit to the Storehouse if you're in Dublin and you or your partner enjoy the Irish stout.
I can't quite remember exactly when we went back to the hotel for a shower and a nap - it was either before or after the Guiness Storehouse. Probably before, as I think our check-in time was 3pm. Those two things went a long way to soothing any residual tension between us. Have I mentioned I'm really not great on very little sleep? The afternoon nap is probably a significant factor in why I found the latter part of our day in Dublin so much more enjoyable.
Meal times are always a tricky one for us when we're on holiday. I think I mentioned how indecisive I can be, but it's usually down to me to pick a place to eat - and food is the one thing I always neglect to include in my research and itineraries. You see, I'm a bit of a foodie so Sean likes me to choose restaurants because I'd care more about the food than he would, but I then agonise over whether or not there is something he can actually eat and would enjoy eating on the menu, given his intolerance. After some agonising indecision and menu perusal on my part, we settled on a French-style market shop with a café that served a surprising range of hot food called Dollard & Co. The food was really tasty and, by a stroke of luck, they had a singer and musician who started performing shortly after we sat down. And they were celebrating their birthday and served free cake to all the dine-in customers there that evening.
The other thing both Sean and I really wanted to do was have a few drinks and listen to some live music somewhere on Temple Bar. After all, what trip to Dublin is complete without a visit to Temple Bar and some good live music? I We may have stopped at our hotel again to change before making our way to this famous street. I think we actually ended up in The Temple Bar - titular pub on the street. We were lucky and got there early enough that we could get seats right in front of the band, and settled in for a couple of hours of listening and slow, casual drinking. Though we didn't stay out particularly late, it was a really mellow, iconic way to end our fractious but generally wonderful day in Dublin. Tags
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It's a glorious feeling to wake up just before my alarm: I actually feel rested, I can have a slow stretch, I can enjoy the bird singing... at least until I realise there shouldn't be birds singing and it's much lighter than it should be for 3am. Then the panic set in.
I overslept on Sunday by nearly three hours because I'd accidentally set a weekday alarm rather than a weekend one. There were over a dozen messages and missed called from David, who'd sat outside for 45 minutes trying to wake me (my phone was, of course, on silent). It was 5:50. My flight to Croatia left at 6:40. I don't think I've ever moved so quickly; I was out the house by six, almost sprinting to the train station, calling a taxi on the way in case there weren't any fast trains to Gatwick. There weren't and my taxi still took almost ten minutes to get to the station. 'Gatwick please!' I said as I scrambled into the backseat. 'My flight leaves in half an hour, can you get me there in time?' 'I'm the fastest driver in Croydon. Put your seatbelt on, and don't complain about my driving!' It was 6:12 and we were flying through the empty streets, hitting nearly every light on green. By 6:29 we were pulling off the motorway and into the airport when I got a message from David: they're closing the gates. They can't wait. No amount of begging seemed to sway them, despite the fact that I was at the airport and could rush through security. I missed my flight to Dubrovnik. Writing this today, I can look back and be pretty impressed by just how quickly I made it to the airport. Not quickly enough, but still - less than an hour from wake up to airport arrival is a solid effort. I can also see the humour in the situation, though at the time, standing in the British Airways customer service queue, I wasn't sure whether I wanted to cry or swear or do both. I paid for another flight, one leaving the following morning, and made my very unhappy way home again (though a small part of me almost decided to just stay in the airport, after spending fifty quid on a taxi to get me there!). It was a miserable Sunday morning, but I went to Watford to spend the afternoon and evening with Sean and his family and that really took the edge off, so by the time I made it to the airport Monday morning, I was feeling fairly relaxed about it all. By midmorning I was sitting on a bench in front of Dubrovnik's Old City, waiting for Wanda, David, and Kyle to meet me, sunglasses on and holiday mode fully engaged. There was, naturally, plenty of stick given for having missed the flight, but it was hot and sunny and David had waited to walk the city walls with me, so as far as I was concerned, everything was just fine.
Dubrovnik is a beautiful city that curves around a rugged, rocky coast and works its way up a steep hill. Our Air BnB was up the hill a ways from the Old City, which wasn't a problem as Dubrovnik is an incredibly pedestrian-friendly city, but it did mean that we had lots and lots of stairs to climb to get back to the apartment at the end of the day. It is also very obviously a city that all but shuts down in the tourist off-season. The streets were quiet and there didn't seem to be much of the buzz you'd expect from a popular tourist getaway spot. Even so, there was plenty to do.
David and I walked the Old City walls, stopping briefly to enjoy a drink at one of the cafés overlooking the sea. While the views were gorgeous and the walls admirable, there was no information anywhere and no option for an audio guide. This was true of most things we did in the city; while beautiful, it was not exactly easily educational. As we walked, David pointed out various sites that had been used as filming locations for Game of Thrones and filled me in a little on the history that he'd learned from the walking tour I'd missed on Sunday afternoon. After that we met up with Wanda and Kyle again, who'd gone for a very chilly dip in the sea, to hike up the mountain the city backs onto, following what felt like a never-ending switchback trail to the summit. I'd been teasing Wanda about walking slowly earlier in the day, but she definitely made me eat my words as I was left about 20 or 30 meters behind her, breathing heavily and with aching legs, for most of the last half of the walk. That being said, we made it to the top in 30 minutes, after everyone warned us it would take at least 45. We rewarded ourselves with a couple drinks at the restaurant, which had stunning panoramas of the city and the sea. David and I then took the cable car down the mountain for a gorgeous view of the lowering sun over the islands beyond the city.
The following morning we had a few hours free between waking up and sea kayaking in the afternoon, and David suggested we take a ferry to the island Lokrum, which is also a national park. The ferry only had about ten people on it and they arrive once an hour, so Lokrum was very quiet; we only rarely saw the others as we wandered around. It was obvious, though, that the island was designed for very heavy traffic in the summer months. We explored the coastline, a few pools and wells, and an old fort in the centre, dodging peacocks and rabbits along the way. We also found a museum that had an exhibit about Richard the Lionheart and the Benedictine monks who had their monastery on the island. It was really well set up, and the bit where they explained the 'curse' of Lokrum was actually really creepy. Lokrum was also a filming location for GoT and they had a replica of the Iron Throne in the monastery, which we all thoroughly enjoyed taking advantage of, especially since there were no queues and we could take as many photos as we liked.
As we made our way back to Dubrovnik the weather turned and it began to drizzle steadily so in the end the kayaking was cancelled. Of course, we only found this out after standing at the meet point for half an hour in the rain! There had been a mix-up earlier that morning and the email notification didn't get sent out to our group. They were very apologetic and offered to pay for a comparatively-priced tour in London when they found out we were leaving Croatia the following morning. I was quite impressed by that, considering we didn't pay a deposit or anything like that to reserve our spot, though very disappointed. The sea kayaking was something I had been very much looking forward to since I booked it! We did try to convince them that we were all English, we didn't mind a bit of rain, but no luck.
So instead of kayaking around the bay, we made our way over to Lapad, just over the hill from Dubrovnik, where Wanda had found a bar built into a cave that had great reviews. It took us about 45 minutes to walk, though it was more driver-friendly than pedestrianised. The Cave Bar was really cool, with a great range of drinks, comfortable seats, and a playlist straight out of high school. It was in the basement of Hotel More, an upside-down hotel built into the cliff facing the bay, somewhere that would probably be a beautiful place to stay (if, you know, you can afford hotels). So yeah, Dubrovnik was a great get-away, despite being cut short by a day. My top recommendations in terms of food and drink would be Spaghetteria Toni in the Old City - amazing pasta dishes with a great selection of local sea food - and the Hotel More Cave Bar. It was quiet when we were there, but I'd imagine it has a fantastic vibe in the summer evenings. tags
I had no sooner set foot on English soil again after visiting the Emerald Isle then I was planning my next trip. I mentioned that while I was in Ireland William asked me to meet him in Amsterdam, and after a second of hesitation, I agreed. As long as he planned his trip for a weekend, I could meet him there on a Friday night. Which is how I found myself running through Gatwick Airport at twenty to six in the evening on a Friday, panicking because I thought I would miss my six-fifteen flight. I really need to learn to say, 'No, this unscheduled meeting is not convenient for me, I have to run to catch a plane, can we meet on Monday instead, please?' when my subject leads ask if I have a second to talk. Because it's never a second, it's always at least fifteen minutes.
I didn't miss my flight, thankfully, and arrived in Amsterdam around half-eight. Though delayed and cancelled trains seem to be an annoyance that follows me everywhere: I had ages to wait in the airport station because train after train kept getting cancelled. Eventually though, I made my way to the train station in the city where Will had said to meet him. It was well after nine, dark, cold, and I was exhausted. But as we made our way up to the Airbnb apartment we'd found for the weekend, the fact that I was in Amsterdam for a weekend actually started to sink in and I felt a hundred times lighter; walking hand-in-hand with Will up the apartment block bled away tension too - especially his simple action of asking for my hand. It's amazing how such a small piece of physical contact can relax a person so much. The week leading up to Amsterdam I had made so many plans for what we were going to do. I had an itinerary in my head that crammed in as much sightseeing as possible in the short time we were there. To make the flight affordable, we had chosen to leave Sunday morning. The later the flight on Sunday, the more exponentially expensive it became. But that meant we really only had Saturday in the city. My plan had involved me dropping off my bag Friday night and then the two of us heading out right away to visit the Red Light District and generally see the city lit up for the night. But I made the mistake of sitting down when we got into the apartment, and that was game over. I needed sleep. So we stayed in. Amsterdam was incredible. I had a half-smile on my face all Saturday and felt more relaxed than I have done since I went to Bath in February. I'm not sure it can all be credited to the city alone though; a combination of things lined up to form perfect conditions. First, I was far away from London, work, and all the guilt and pressure. Second, that unscheduled meeting that almost made me miss my flight had been to tell me that the school was very happy with my work, didn't want to lose me next year, and were prepared to sponsor me to stay in England! I was ecstatic, relieved, and very, very pleased with myself. In terms of the city itself, it was a gorgeously clear morning, the likes of which London hasn't seen in a good long while. The skies were a perfect blue and the sunlight sharp, sparking off the canals and windows around us. Sunshine always makes me smile. Some of the trees that lined the canals still had their bright yellow autumn leaves and the city was incredibly quiet. No cars meant no noise. I didn't have to raise my voice so Will could hear me as we walked along the streets, and I loved the rows and rows of bikes lined up haphazardly along the canals.
The final element was, of course, the company. If I'd done nothing that day but wander the city talking idly with Will, my hand in his, then I think I still would have counted the weekend a good one. As it is, that wasn't far from what actually happened. We stumbled onto the Flower Market almost by accident and spent a few minutes browsing the bulbs and seeds. There was only one stall with fresh flowers in it, but I suppose being November there wouldn't be much of those anywhere. And it was still filled nearly to overflowing. After the flower market we made our way past the Rijksmuseum and paused to take a few photos by the I amsterdam sculpture. We were going to the Van Gogh museum on the other side, because I enjoy his art and was looking forward to admiring it. Then we saw the queue. It was an hour wait, minimum. We started to join it, then decided that we would rather do something else than wait an hour to get into a museum. So we went back to the Rijksmuseum instead.
We never found the Monet the signs in the museum kept pointing us toward, though we did find a painting of a massive baby and two creepy looking children that made us pause for comment. It's called Group Portrait of Three Brothers by Thomas de Keyser. Either proportion was not his strong suit or the children were abnormally small. They were also rather creepy, and we wondered at the mafia-style chain and mob-boss-like all-knowing stare the baby had. After the Rijksmuseum we went ice skating on the rink they'd put up in the park just in front of it. I'd not been on skates in five years, so I was a little wobbly at first. It didn't help that the skates weren't at all sharp and the ice was terrible. Will found it hilarious to skate in circles round me and push me round the rink, but I got my own back when his antics sent him flat on his back on the ice. I laughed, particularly since I had by then found my balance and was much more comfortable skating around.
After that we slowly began making our way towards the Red Light District, passing the queue for Anne Frank's house, which wrapped around the block, and stopping regularly to window shop and take photos. We visited a sex shop on the way as well because it's Amsterdam and how could you not? After that we wandered into a bakery. The pastry was alright but the hot chocolate was fantastic. The Dutch really know how to make hot chocolate - all rich, frothy milk and actual chocolate pieces that you stir into it. I kept ordering it all the rest of the weekend and at every new café it got steadily better. The best hot chocolate I've had was actually from a café in Amsterdam Airport though. Seems fitting since that was the last café I ordered it from as well. So a word of advice: if you're ever in Amsterdam and you like hot chocolate, order it. All the time.
What else did we do? Mostly just wandering. We finally made our way to the Red Light District as the afternoon grew late and we wandered through the whole of it, which took surprisingly little time. It was all pink and black and red paint, serious bouncers in black suits and surly expressions, and over-excited groups of men and women who were clearly tipsy and on a bachelor or bachelorette weekend. It would have been better to see at night, perhaps less seedy or gimmicky, and we did intend to go back when it grew dark but it just didn't happen. We went to Café Kloss for a late lunch/early dinner (it was four o clock by this point) but there was an hour long wait just for a seat at the bar. The food looked and smelled amazing so we were going to wait. But the longer we waited, the more we decided that perhaps we'd just go back to the apartment and cook our own dinner, have a hot shower, then go out again afterwards. (This decision came after a nauseatingly sweet conversation. To use Will's phrasing, 'if I wasn't us, I'd have wanted to kill us'.) Again, another mistake. You guessed it: once we got in, cooked dinner, showered, and got dressed again, we really didn't feel like going out. So we put on pajamas instead, I read and Will watched TV, and I was asleep by ten. I'd strongly recommend Airbnb to anyone traveling with a friend. Our studio apartment was £100 for the two nights, significantly cheaper than the hostels we'd found. It was fantastic being able to cook our own food, and to have the peace and privacy of our own space as well. The place was very clean and Will said the man he dealt with to get the key and whatnot was friendly and very helpful when it came to organising transit passes and giving advice about the city. For solo traveling I still maintain that hostels are the cheaper option, but I'd definitely recommend Airbnb to friends traveling together. The next morning it was back to London. I thought I'd be getting worked up about going back to work, but Will was coming back with me, and it was very hard to feel stressed about work when he'd be around anyway. By this point I think we'd both figured that it was a bit more than an infatuation and, having accepted that, were just very comfortable in each other's company. Tags
I've visited Edinburgh twice now. I went for the first time over New Year for the Hogmanay festival, and then I went again this summer for the Military Tattoo and summer Fringe festival. Even bursting at the seams with people and noise and smells, I really loved the city. Those of you who know me will know what that means coming from me, as a woman who abhors crowds and noise and will go out of her way to avoid them.
Edinburgh just has such character. London certainly has identity; it's old, and grand, but at the same time determined to weather the coming centuries just as well as it has the preceding ones. Which also means it's very trendy and vibrant. Somehow it manages to merge the trendy and traditional beautifully, and you have a city with an incredible buzz to it. Edinburgh, on the other hand, is much more solid. It's strongly built, in a rough landscape, and populated with equally solid, no-nonsense, down-to-earth people. I think the city, like its populace, is fiercely attached to its history and refuses to accept the tidied, English version of events, much the same way the newer, Georgian addition to the city is tolerated but not quite wholly accepted by the old town. On the other hand, Edinburgh is also very proud of what part it played in British history, as the Royal Yacht Britannia proves, permanently docked as it is in Leith harbour.
Parts of Edinburgh are very old - the aptly named Old Town, for example - and they are grand, beautiful, and dark, almost to the point of brooding, populated with great, sturdy, old houses, churches, and bridges. Not to mention Edinburgh castle, crouching over the top of the city. The whole place is also built on a series of hills so there are twisting, narrow alleys that lead to steep, lengthy flights of worn stone steps. The cars often need to take equally twisting, narrow roads down suddenly steep streets, where buildings that from one side of the road only seemed two stories high, are revealed to have a good seven-story basement as you drive down the hill on their other side.
London is wonderful for it's restaurants, but I think Edinburgh has it beat hands-down for pubs. I had a steak-and-ale pie from The Fiddler's Arms in the Grassmarket that was so good, I went back again the next night for the same meal. And the atmosphere was great as well, even taking into account the ever-so-slightly long-suffering attitude towards tourists. Everyone was very good natured, and I can hardly blame them for being tired of tourists: there were easily more foreigners in the city than there were locals. Particularly in and around the Grassmarket, where we spent a lot of our time. I took my dad all along the Royal Mile while we were there: it's my favourite part of Edinburgh simply because of all the history you can find wandering up and down that hill. I've mentioned the castle at one end, but there's also a particularly impressive church along the way, the government buildings, and a stunning museum. At the bottom of the Mile you'll find the new and very modern parliament buildings just around the corner from the Palace of Hollyroodhouse.
Sweeping into the skyline behind the palace, in counterpoint to the castle dug into its smaller mountain, is Arthur's Seat, a magnificent extinct volcano from the top of which you can get the most breathtaking views of the city. Or so I'm told. We opted for the slightly less magnificent, but still stunning, panoramas found from the top of Calton Hill. There was a much lower fitness level required for Calton Hill, you see. And also a very odd arrangement of monuments to puzzle over around the grounds there, one of which is the incomplete national monument. Why is it incomplete? Because they ran out of money. A common theme in Scottish architecture, I later learned. Now the monument is used by youths to share a few beers, and perhaps a few other things, as the evenings draw in and the crowds diminish.
I adored the city and have every intention of going back a third time, when it isn't in full festival swing. I'd like to see what it's like when there are more locals than tourists and I can actually experience the city for herself. tags
As you may have inferred from the title, I am back from a crazy six days in Paris: the city of love, the city that never sleeps. The city of impossible-to-find metro stations and fabulous buildings. As I enjoy the first cup of green tea I've had all week, let me tell you a bit about my vacation.
Paris was stunning. She has no qualms flaunting the fact that for centuries this city has been the centre for fashion, style, and art. The home of monarchs who built some of the most beautiful and impressive palaces in the Western world. Paris knows she's beautiful, and just deigns to allow us, as foreigners, to admire her. And admire we did: I, together with some of my fellow Canadian expats (are we expats? I think most of us intend to go back eventually...) hit up just about every main attraction in Paris we could. We visited the Eiffel Tower (three times, actually) and ate our Subway sandwiches on the park in front of the exposition centrepiece, watching the Nigerian men alternate between harassing tourists about buying their cheap trinkets and running (very fast, I might add) away from the patrolling police. We were amused when two enterprising little boys whose parents refused to buy them miniature Eiffel Towers and key rings pocketed the dropped merchandise and returned, happy as clams, to their own picnic. We wandered up and down the Seine, enjoying the russet and yellow autumn colours, contrasting nicely with the clear blue skies we had most of the week. Notre Dame lounged comfortably on her island in the middle of the river, much the way an elderly French aristocrat would lounge in the centre of her salon, secure in her place and watching everyone around her with equal parts disdain and amusement. We hiked all the way up to Sacre Couer for the breathtaking view and then down to the Moulin Rouge where we briefly considered dinner and a show there. I say briefly, because the 200 euro price tag attached quickly encouraged us to move on. At Disneyland Paris I learned why everyone is always warning you about pickpockets in Europe as I had my phone lifted off me while standing in line for lunch at a restaurant. That is also why I have no photos of my trip to show - what ones I had taken were all on my phone. I also learned that roller coasters are not for those with neck problems, and had to spend the next day in bed with an awful tension migraine. Versailles was suitably impressive and the Hall of Mirrors in particular was incredible to see. The Louvre, too, was beautiful. I can't imagine actually living somewhere as grand as those palaces. The artistic highlights of the Louvre were the Mona Lisa and Venus de Milo (of course) as well as the Easter Island head and the Winged Victory of Samothrace. The entertaining highlight of the Louvre was the Selfie Statue. I don't think I even checked what the statue was actually called, but this marble figure in armour and standing over a conquered dragon (or snake, or Medusa, or something like that), held in his hand a rectangular block of marble roughly the size and shape of a smartphone. And he held it in such a way that it really did look like he was taking a selfie after his victory against the dragon-snake-medusa. #slayedthedragon #awesome We wrapped up our last afternoon in Paris with a stop at a Jewish patisserie by our hostel where I ordered a lemon tart and something called brick. Not exactly sure what was in brick, but both were delicious. Chocolate croissants and a coffee creme puff were also ordered and thoroughly enjoyed. I honestly wish there was a bakery like that here in Croydon. I would spend a happy evening every week just ordering a new treat from the counter. So Paris was a wonderful experience (apart from the migraine and the theft) but I will also say that I don't think I will go back. Certainly not any time soon, and possibly not for a good many years. It was beautiful, but it was also very dirty. The metro lines, the streets, and the public spaces were all filthy with litter, cigarettes, and food scraps. Homelessness and begging is a big problem there, and everywhere smelled of pee. I think the only three places we went that didn't smell noticeably of urine was Disneyland, Versailles, and the Louvre. I also found that, for the most part, Parisians are rather unpleasant people. They were regularly rude and rarely willing to help us with anything, though part of that was likely because most of our party had little to no French. I was probably the one with the least. "Merci, s'il vous plait, and excusé-moi" are the sum total of my French, and the locals didn't have much patience for me at all. All the same, it was a fantastic holiday and I am ready to get back to work. Though I have rather a lot of marking to catch up on this weekend now in order to survive the next seven weeks. Bring on the trial exams! Tags
I got back from England a few days ago: I went to Engage Education's iday event in Norwich, and it was absolutely fantastic! I was only there for a week, and most of that week was spent doing job fair-related things, but I also managed to pack in a lot of sightseeing. In fact, we were all so busy that we didn't even have time to feel the jet lag. We flew out Saturday night and arrived in Norwich late Sunday afternoon. Monday and Tuesday were free days, with the rest of the week devoted to the iday event.
I travelled with a really great group of people; independent enough that we didn't feel the need to do everything together, but we all got along well enough that, when we did get together, everyone really enjoyed themselves. For the most part we split up when sightseeing though; I wandered the city with three others who were interested in seeing and doing the same things as I was (i.e., sightseeing and not shopping). Here are some of the highlights of our first two days: The food:
We stuck mostly to pub fare while we were in Norwich, largely because it tended to be cheaper and they could more easily accommodate a large group without advance notice (there were eight of us, not counting the Irish teachers who joined us on Tuesday). On the Sunday evening we all went wandering together to find somewhere to get some real food; the first place we stumbled into was the Lamb Inn, which looked promising. We asked them if they served meals there, and could we see a menu? They did serve meals usually but, the bartender regretfully informed us, they were currently out of food. Uh, what? Out of food? How is that possible? Confused, tired, and disappointed, we returned to the street and eventually found another pub, where I had a pretty decent chicken tikka masala. Generally speaking the food was pretty good everywhere we ate, but the Lamb Inn was a highlight for three reasons for me: the first being that they somehow ran out of food. It still boggles my mind that a restaurant can even do that. The second being their delicious cocktails (and the two-for-one deal), something we discovered when we went back on Monday evening for drinks, and the third being just how incredibly tasty their food was (when we eventually got to try some). We went back on the Friday to have dinner there and wow, was it ever good! The place was packed and I could well believe that they'd run out of food occasionally if everything was as good as the mac and cheese I had!
The history:
When you go to Norwich's website, the town's catchphrase is "a different historic city". I'm not quite sure why that is, but Norwich certainly had an awe-inspiring amount of history to offer. For starters there was the Castle, dating back to the Normans, which they had converted into a museum. There were exhibits on the Egyptians and Natural History, among others, but the Castle Museum really focused on local history, which was really neat. The town also boasts a shocking number of medieval churches. I joked to the others that medieval churches in Norwich were a bit like Tim Horton's here in Barrie - there's one on just about every block. Many of them were still in use as churches, but a lot of them had also been repurposed. We spent twenty minutes wandering in one that had been converted into an antiques shop. Another had been turned into a Christian book shop and café. All of them retained that heavy scent of incense and stone, and the quiet splendour of their stained glass windows. There were also the two incredible cathedrals (both still in use as a place of worship). The Norwich Cathedral is "the most complete Norman Cathedral in England" making it very, very old. Or rather, parts of it were very, very old, as obviously there has been much restoration and other changes since the 14th century. But it is an awesome building, in the original sense of the word. The Catholic Cathedral of St John the Baptist is also very impressive, though that church is not nearly as old as its architecture would have you believe. That cathedral was only built in the 1800s. I say "only" because, as the older gentleman who so kindly gave us a brief tour of the cathedral told us, this cathedral is relatively new when compared to the medieval buildings that Norwich is more famous for. I don't think there are many buildings that remain standing in Canada dating back to the 1800s, never mind the 14th century! I was very impressed by the history in this city.
More than medieval churches, Norwich has dozens of other old buildings. I was constantly amazed by the contrast of old and new: a hair salon in a building that looked like it was built in the 1700s, for example. We wandered along Elm Hill (after getting spectacularly lost trying to find it, I might add), a well-preserved medieval street, home to the oldest still-standing building in Norwich (now a pub, but originally built in the 1500s for some purpose I don't remember). Even on Elm Hill the meeting of modernity and history is evident in the sleek black mercedes parked on the cobbled street. As a student of history and a lover of English literature, I drank up every sight that, to my Canadian upbringing, seemed so anachronistic. The green spaces:
I couldn't get over how much green space there seemed to be everywhere. As we drove from Gatwick Airport to Norwich all I saw were fields, when my view wasn't obstructed by the trees that thickly lined the edges of the highway. In Norwich itself I loved the big old trees that also lined the residential streets - they seemed so untamed compared to the carefully trimmed, slim-trunked, younger trees in my suburb back home. The wilder look was probably because they were so much older and taller that their branches couldn't be easily cut back anymore and their trunks were sheathed in a thick growth of holly or ivy. The houses too, had carefully overgrown front gardens, dominated by thick hedges and creepers of various kinds, lending privacy and a degree of quiet to the homes. In addition there were a number of public parks and gardens, and the Cathedrals and many of the churches had gardens that were open to the public. We spent a lot of time wandering around the Plantation Garden, a stunning restored victorian town garden. It was incredibly peaceful, surrounded as we were by big, thick-leafed deciduous trees that seemed to block out all noise from the busy street on just the other side.
On Monday, the day we spent about 12 hours walking around the city, we found our way to a steep, dark green ravine where we could follow the remnants of the town wall, ruins leftover from the 14th century. The weather had been warm and humid all day, the sky frequently clouding over, threatening rain, only to clear and leave the air stickier than before. When we came to the ravine we had the option of continuing to walk along the sidewalk and follow the city walls that way, or cross into the ravine and wander there instead. I'm glad we chose the ravine: it was so lush in there between various bushes, creepers, and plants that I didn't recognize, and the trees were surprisingly tall. They hadn't seemed so from the other side of the wall, but the ravine was actually incredibly steep, so the trees seemed shorter than they really were. They were also wrapped up in holly, and in full leaf, so what sunlight filtered down to us seemed to be tinted green. It wasn't any less humid under the trees but it certainly felt cooler, especially walking along the cold stone of the city wall. What surprised us most of all was the lack of mosquitoes. It being so humid and us surrounded on all sides by vegetation, we assumed there'd be clouds of them but we weren't bothered by bugs at all. I'm not sure if that's typical for England, or if we were just lucky, but it was a pleasant surprise. The afternoon tea
Afternoon tea was a spontaneous decision made the night before, that really should have been premeditated. Apparently it's popular enough that reservations are needed just about anywhere. At least they are if you have a group larger than three. After being rebuffed at three different tea houses on Tuesday afternoon, we finally made our way to The Assembly House, where they had ample room for us. The afternoon tea was actually more expensive than any of the other meals I had in Norwich, but it was definitely well worth it. I kept thinking to myself how much my mom would love the experience. If she could come visit me in England, an afternoon tea might be one of the first things I arrange for her. They served us sandwiches, scones, and deserts from tiered platters, and everyone got a pot of looseleaf tea to themselves. The sandwiches and scones were topped up regularly, we had a limitless supply of tea (and could switch variety as often as we liked), and could generally linger over the experience as long as we wanted. Everything was delicious, and the staff was really friendly and very accommodating. If you're ever in Norwich and looking to experience an English afternoon tea, I'd definitely recommend The Assembly House.
I am amazed at how much we managed to cram into two days. My feet and ankles ached all week from the walking we did on Monday and Tuesday. In fact, they're only now beginning to feel back to normal again, and it's over a week since those days of sightseeing! It was well worth any discomfort though, and I'm so happy to have been able to make the most of the trip in terms of holidaying as well as working, and I can't wait to go back.
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