Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Thanksgiving Weekend

This past weekend proved to be another very busy couple of days.

Thursday, as you know, was Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is, of course, a very American holiday, and not celebrated in the U.K. However, hundreds of Americans are either living abroad in London or visiting right now, and St. Paul’s Cathedral has an annual Thanksgiving service. St. Paul’s is the masterpiece of architect Sir Christopher Wren, who rebuilt many important aspects of London after the great fire in 1666.

The cathedral is huge, and its prominent feature is a massive dome over the center. Inside, half is whitewashed, but the other half is ornately painted and gilded. The service itself was very nice, with readings from the U.S. Ambassador to Great Britain and the pastor of the American Church of London.

That afternoon, the SU center decided to treat us all to a lunch to soothe our homesickness. It was not exactly successful in that, as the caterer they hired brought turkey sandwiches and sweet potato wedges, and ran out of food within an hour. Apparently this was not the first Thanksgiving lunch they had thrown, and even the center staff was disappointed by this one.

Thursday night we tried to get as close to home as possible. We made turkey breasts (no way our ridiculously slow oven could have handled a whole turkey), mashed potatoes (with no electric mixer – just some very large spoons and our very large muscles), and gravy (from a packet – nothing like Plainville). After dinner, we headed to the bar at the University of London Student Union, as they had advertised that they would be showing the American football games.

Even with all these substitutes, it was a little sad not to be home for Thanksgiving. I am definitely looking forward to going to Rochester for Christmas

Friday we went on our last school-sponsored trip. This one was to Windsor Castle, which is only about 45 minutes to the west of London. Windsor has always held a special place in the hearts of the royal family. In fact, the Queen goes there most weekends, and makes it quite clear she prefers it to Buckingham Palace. In case you were wondering, the castle is also where the royal family gets their last name from. When Queen Victoria married Albert Saxe-Coburg, she took his last name, and this therefore became the last name of all her family. However, during World War I many people with German-sounding last names changed them to something more British. The royal family was no exception and changed theirs to Windsor, after their favorite castle.

There has been a castle at Windsor since around the 11th century, when the invading Normans built it to defend their new land from the natives. It has many interesting features – Henry VIII and several other royals are buried in the chapel there. The state apartments are open to the public when there are no royal functions, so we got to see where the Queen throws her royal bashes. There was also an exhibit of Queen Mary’s dollhouse. This sounds kind of stupid, but the dollhouse was huge with working electricity and paintings by famous artists. Unfortunately, we couldn’t take pictures of it.

After our time in the castle, we had some time to explore the surrounding town. Windsor is about a 20 minute walk across the River Thames to Eton, home of the famous all-boys private school (the princes went to school there). It’s called Eton College, but college here also means high school. There is a prep school for ages seven to 13, and then from 14 to 18, boys are taught at the college itself. We walked to the school, and then the opposite direction to the park in front of the castle. For some reason, every Friday that we travel on seems to be the coldest day of the week, so we spent our last half hour or so warming in a little coffee shop.

After paying our last rent payment (yay!) Saturday morning, we went to a football game. Now, remember I’m in Europe, so by football I really mean soccer. The school had managed to get us discount tickets for only £5, and we had at least 15 kids there. The game was Queens Park Rangers (QPR) vs. Sheffield Wednesday. These teams are not in the Premier League, which features the famous teams like Chelsea and Manchester United, but in the Championship League. One interesting thing about the league structure here is that teams can move between them. QPR used to be in the Premier League, but then had some bad seasons and got demoted. Similarly, teams who out-compete other teams in their league can be bumped up to higher levels.

The stadium held a little more than 15,000 fans, and almost every seat was full. The Sheffield supporters were all concentrated on one side of the stadium, and were VERY loud. In fact, they were louder than the home fans. They were singing or chanting or cheering non-stop through the entire game.

A football game consists of two 45-minute halves, but the clock never stops during that time (no time-outs or commercial breaks). The referee then adds (rather arbitrarily, it seems) a certain amount of “stoppage time” to the end of the game. I don’t really understand the rules of football, but it was a good time. Watching the game in person was definitely better than trying to watch it on television.

I think I’ve decided why I don’t really like soccer. It seems much too unorganized for me. I’m sure there is strategy and such, but I certainly can’t pick it out. You can switch from being on offense to defense and back again within a matter of seconds, and sometimes it is hard to tell who even has the ball. Even in basketball, if you are on offense you normally stay there for at least a few seconds. However, I will say that the players must be great athletes to be running up and down the field for 90 minutes non-stop. On the other hand, some are also big drama queens, falling down and screaming after barely getting hit. The whole game I just really wanted someone to get tackled.

Sunday Rick and I had signed up to do a charity fun run. It wasn’t a big run in London or anything – just a run organized by one of the administrators at SU. There were about 15 of us running, and we went to Hampstead Heath, which is a big park on the north side of London. We ran through the mud (there were no paved paths) and up some giant hills. Needless to say, I am quite sore today. But I beat a lot of the boys in, so also quite proud of myself.

After the run we were all treated to a proper Thanksgiving meal at the home of another person who works at SU. There was turkey, mashed potatoes, ziti, casseroles, rolls, chili, and pumpkin pie. We all stuffed ourselves and were exhausted from the combination of running and eating so much. It was a great meal.

The SU center has a film club every once in a while for students to explore British cinema. Sunday night the club met to watch British sitcoms. Some of them were very funny, while others were stereotypical British humor that none of us really got. Again we got free food in the form of popcorn and fruit. After coming home from that, I was so tired I just crashed without even eating dinner.

Monday, November 19, 2007

Counting down the days...


It seems that everyone has now hit panic mode. With only a few short weeks left in London, we are spending our days trying to pack the sightseeing and stuff we've meant to do all semester into any free time we have, all while gearing up for final exams and papers. I am no exception to this, and consequently had a very busy weekend.

Thursday night Rick and I planned to see a show. We really wanted to see MacBeth, because the lead role is currently being played by none other than Patrick Stewart (aka Captain Jean-Luc Picard). We were dismayed to find out that MacBeth has sold out all of its remaining shows. It turns out Patrick Stewart is sick and wouldn't be appearing anyways.

We ended up seeing Spamalot, the musical based on Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I am not a Python fanatic, but was introduced to the movies in middle school by some friends and can quote a fair share of Holy Grail lines. The musical turned out to be a perfect combination of Monty Python quotes and new material. While preserving the main storyline, it also managed to poke fun at the show biz industry and the actors themselves. It was really funny.

Friday we went on another school trip - this time to Oxford, about an hour and a half west of London. Like Cambridge, Oxford University is made up of separate, fiercely independent colleges. The architecture was impressive and there were also some very nice green spaces. We had a professor as a tour guide who took us around and showed us some main points of the campus, and also took us inside one of the colleges. The Hogwarts dining hall is filmed in one of Oxford's halls, but it was about $6 to go in and we didn't have much time.

By luck, there happened to be a French market in town while we were there. The professor told us that the vendors set up in one city for a day and then move right on to the next, all over Europe, and that it would probably take three years for them to return to Oxford again. There was a tantalizing selection of bread, cheeses, and other French staples. Rick and I settled for some delicious pastries for the bus ride home.

Saturday was quite an experience - we went played paintball with a group from school. They had worked out a deal where we got our own field, 600 paintballs, guns, and protective gear for only $20. I'd never been paintballing before, but I'm told this is a really good deal. It was a lot of fun. We had two marshals who took us to different fields and explained different games to us. I felt like a little kid running around and basically playing capture the flag, but it was a lot of fun. I am a little bruised and battered - some welts from paintball shots and some bruised knees from crawling around - but it was worth it.

Sunday afternoon Rick and I visited the Natural History Museum. We didn't have much time before the museum closed, but we had a good time wandering around the models of the Earth, the stuffed birds and the dinosaur bones. On our way back, we had just rounded the corner away from the museum when we heard a very frightened little voice yelling, "Maman! Maman!" Recognizing the cries of a lost little boy, I asked him if he was lost. My fear was that he would not speak any English - his accent sounded French to me, but very well could have been Spanish or Italian. French would have been okay, but I didn't know how I could help him if he started rattling off something else.

It turned out he was French, but immediately started talking to me in perfect English. He had lost his mother and siblings when he stopped to tie his shoe. After getting him to stop crying, we walked back towards the museum with him until his mother caught up to where we had been walking (she hadn't even left the museum yet). They started talking rapidly in French and Rick and I set off home.

I don't bring this story up for the fact that the little boy was lost, but for his language skills. At eight years old his English, although with a French accent, could not have been better if he had been born in the U.K. In most European non-English speaking countries, children begin learning English as a second language by the time they are five, if not before. In fact, this is supposed to be the time when it is easiest to learn a new language. Why then in America do we not start another language until seventh or eighth grade? The world is shrinking, and foreign languages are becoming more and more important. We're not keeping up.

Excuse my rant. Back to Sunday - Sometime while we were in the museum the heavens had let loose and it was pouring. At one point, we went through an underpass to cross under one of the very busy streets. Rick said, "Be careful on the stairs, they are probably slippery." No sooner had the words come out of his mouth, my feet went out from underneath me and I slid down a few concrete steps. Luckily I escaped with nothing more than small bruises to my backside and my pride.

Sunday night, as you may know, my Buffalo Bills played the undefeated New England Patriots in the night game. Having discovered that Sunday and Monday Night Football are aired here (albeit at 1:30 at the morning), and having an altered class schedule on Monday (I didn't have to be in until noon), I was thrilled to realize I could watch the Bills play. I don't really know what I was hoping for. When it was 55-10 at 4:00 in the morning, I gave up and went to bed.

The weather seems to have turned for the worse in Britain. When we went to Oxford it was bitterly cold, and the rest of the weekend it rained or at least sprinkled almost constantly. Today has been a very odd day, with random downpours and chilly winds paired with sunshine and moderate temperatures. Kind of reminds me of Syracuse....

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Relaxing in Bath

This week was a fairly typical week of classes and homework. On Friday however, we went on another school-sponsored trip. This time we traveled about two and a half hours to the west of London, to the city of Bath.

Bath gets its name and tourist qualities from the presence of a large hot water spring. It was first discovered more than 2,000 years ago, when a Celtic king was miraculously cured of his leprosy by spending time in the spring’s muddy waters. When the Romans invaded in A.D. 43, they harnessed the power of the spring and built a lavish bathing house. They dedicated the area to the goddess Minerva, and surrounded the bathing house with a courtyard and temple.

Many of the structural aspects from Roman times are long gone, but a surprising number still remain. For example, the Roman drain that carries used water to the River Avon is still operational. Other parts of the bath were added in the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries, as royals and aristocrats traveled to Bath to relax in the springs.

The bathing house in Roman times consisted of the main bath, hot and cold water plunges, steam rooms, and the sacred spring. The main bath is about the size of an Olympic swimming pool, but the water is now an uninviting shade of green and very murky – visitors are warned to not even touch the water, as it is untreated and surrounded by lead pipes and walls. Its temperature is naturally constant at about 80 degrees.

Part of the old bathing house is now a museum devoted to displays of the Celtic and Roman artifacts that have been found throughout the city of Bath. One of the most impressive pieces was the roof façade of the temple, which featured a sun man and intricate carvings. The museum also explained how the Romans connected to the native Celtic culture.

I have to give it to the Romans for their engineering. In order to keep the bathing house warm, they placed the floors on piles of ceramic tiles and used a furnace to allow steam and warmth pass among the tiles to the floor and walls. Some of the rooms were so hot you could only spend a few minutes in them or you would pass out.

The sacred spring is where the water actually emerges from the earth and gas passes through it to make it bubble. In Roman times, no one was allowed to actually go in this spring. Pilgrims and villagers would throw offerings to the goddess in the spring in hopes she would help them with whatever hardship they were facing. After the Romans, the spring was under control of the Catholic abbey next door, and monks brought invalid to the spring in order to heal them. Later, only kings and other royalty were allowed in the spring.

This trip was kind of unstructured compared to others we had been on, but it was still very informative. This was because the museum provided everyone with audio guides, so we could go about the bathing house at our own pace and decided which things we wanted to learn more about.

After spending about two hours in the bathhouse, Rick and I set off to explore the city a bit. Our guide had told us to seek out one of the many chocolate shops in Bath if we wanted something sweet. Anyone who knows me will not be surprised to learn that this was the main purpose of my wandering. We finally came across a chocolate café. Rick had toffee hot chocolate and orange chocolate mousse, while I had regular chocolate mousse and “Chocolate Indulgence,” a drink which involved pouring hot chocolate over a scoop of chocolate ice cream. It was really good, but very rich, and needless to say I was feeling just a little queasy when we left the shop.

The downside to this trip was the amount of time we had in Bath compared to the travel time. The round-trip travel time on the bus was about five hours, while we only had about 3 ½ hours in Bath itself. It was a very pretty city, and I think it would be a good place for an extended day trip. We took the scenic route home, and I was very glad we did. The bus wound up a very steep hill, and from the top we could see the entire city, the countryside, and the mountains of Wales in the distance. And I got to see sheep again. Lots and lots of sheep.

Sunday (today) was fairly busy by my usual Sunday standards. Rick and I went out to lunch at Wagamama, a Japanese restaurant near our flat. It was kind of like Ichiban Lite - no chef right at your table, but much cheaper. The food was very good, and we left very full. We then walked through Hyde Park, the big park near us. This is the first weekend the leaves have really changed and fallen, and the park was really nice. It reminded me of home and the SU campus. The other end of the park is in a very ritzy shopping district, and we stopped by Harrod's, the famous department store. It was an absolute zoo. Christmas season has already begun in London, and hundreds of people had descended upon the store. After looking at the prices, we left empty-handed, but it was still very interesting to go in.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Dublin

This past weekend, Rick and I and some other friends went to Dublin, Ireland on a school-sponsored trip. This meant that we paid our money upfront, and SU planned the transportation to the airports, flights, and some activities for us during our stay. I was a little worried at first about the possibility of inflexibility on the school’s part, but it actually worked out really well. We didn’t have to deal with the hassle of planning everything, and we did some things we probably would not have done had the school not scheduled them.

The trip was actually an optional trip for a particular class about literature and political action in Ireland. However, there were only three students with us that were actually in the class. Altogether, there were 12 students, a professor, and an administrator who was in charge of logistics.

We arrived into Dublin a little after 10:00 p.m. Thursday night. After waiting for a bus without luck for about 45 minutes, our group leader broke into the emergency funds so we could take taxis to our hostel. Upon arrival, we were split into rooms that were booked specifically for our group. Although it was short, the flight left most of us feeling a little worse for the wear, so we hung out in the hostel lounge for a bit before bed.

Friday morning we ate breakfast at the hostel and set off on a walking tour about the 1916 Easter Rebellion. For a very abridged history lesson: Under British rule, the Catholic majority was extremely repressed under the Protestant minority. The majority of Catholics were Nationalists, and in favor of an independent Ireland, while the Protestants were Unionists who remained loyal to the United Kingdom.

Easter Monday of 1916, the stage was set for a rebellion. The British military presence in Ireland was already stretched thin by World War I, and that particular weekend was a large horse race which most of the remaining soldiers were attending. Nationalist leaders rallied thousands of Irishmen and controlled the town for about a week. Unfortunately for them, the British military reinforcements proved to be too strong. They were forced to surrender, and most of the leaders were jailed and then executed. Although this rebellion did not grant Ireland independence, it turned public opinion against the Brits, particularly in light of the brutal punishments handed out by the general in charge.

The last stop of the walking tour was the General Post Office, which the Nationalist leaders commandeered to serve as their headquarters during the rebellion. It was from this spot that P.H. Pearse read the declaration of rebellion to call Ireland’s citizens to arms. The post office has one of only a few original copies of the proclamation.

After grabbing lunch, we took a bus to the Kilmainhem Gaol, the jail where both political and common prisoners were held. It was here that the leaders of the 1916 rebellion were held and executed by firing squad. A guide gave us the history of the jail, including its time during the Great Potato Famine when the jail of just over 100 cells held 90,000 people, many of whom committed crimes just so they could be sent to jail and be fed.

On the way back on the bus, we noticed we were going to pass the Guinness Storehouse, and all 12 of us students decided to go. This was in some ways similar to the Heineken Experience Rick and I had visited in Amsterdam; it gave us the history of the brand and how it was made. The Guinness tour focused a little more on the technical processes, and less on the commercialization of the beer. At the end of the tour, we arrived at the top of the building to find a circular bar with windows all around, offering a very pretty view of the city by night. Of course, we got a free pint of Guinness, and also got a paper weight type thing which has a drop of Guinness in it.

We spent the night in the Temple Bar area, which is arguably Dublin’s most touristy section. It is full of restaurants, pubs, clubs, and souvenir shops. It is also where you are most likely to see street performers.

Saturday morning we took the commuter train for about half an hour to Sandy Cove, an outskirt of Dublin on the coast. The reason for our visit was the James Joyce Museum (remember, the trip was actually for a class on Irish literature). Having only read one short story by Joyce in high school (I think), the museum was not exactly a great attraction. However, it is housed in a tower where Joyce once lived, and by climbing to the top we had amazing views of the Irish Sea. The weather was rather cloudy and chilly, but it was still gorgeous.

While scanning the coastline, we realized that there were actually people swimming. Apparently, there is a club that goes in the water every day of the year. Having decided against joining them (although one of our classmates did…wearing nothing but his boxers…not the smartest idea), we walked the rocky coastline and took lots of pictures. We then had a group lunch at a pub in the town before taking the train back.

That afternoon was free time, so Rick and I broke from the group and browsed many of the souvenir shops that line Trinity College. We then headed across the River Liffey to the Old Jameson Distillery. Jameson, for anyone who doesn’t know, is Irish whiskey, and the most famous brand of it. This was a guided tour which explained the process by which the whiskey is made. It culminated, of course, in a tasting. This reminded me of the vodka tasting my father and I went to in Russia; they picked several volunteers, had them try sips of five different kinds of whiskey, and pick their favorite. Rick and I did not get to stay to see which the favorite was – we were running very short on time and had to run to meet our group back at the hostel, picking up takeaway fish and chips on the way.

That evening’s planned activity was a musical pub crawl. This was my favorite part of the trip. We traveled to two different pubs with two musicians, who played traditional Irish music, sang, and explained some history of what they were playing. They were great – they played the guitar, the fiddle, and the bodhrán, an Irish drum.

We were so entranced by the music that at the end of their session we asked the musicians where we could go to listen to more live Irish music. They gave us some (rather vague) directions and we headed out. At the time, our whole group was in to the music, and everyone (students, professor, and group leader) decided to come with us. After hiking the river for at least 20 minutes, the patience of many in our group was beginning to wear thin, and we ducked in the first bar we came to. About 30 seconds in, listening to the (bad) American music and feeling the heat of the at least 200 other people in there, Rick and I quickly decided this bar was not for us. We were in Dublin! Bars like that can be found in London!

We resumed our search for the pub the musicians had recommended, and shortly found it. Much to our relief, there were three fiddlers and two flute players sitting around a table and playing traditional Irish music. The average age of the clients and bartenders in this pub was at least 50 – just the way I like it. We stayed for a few hours and chatted with old men about life. It was really a great night and will probably be my most poignant memory of Dublin.

Sunday morning we had about four hours to kill before transferring to the airport. Rick and I headed to Dublin Castle, which was strangely painted very bright colors. It had some beautiful gardens, where we sat for a while to watch two little dogs romping and to play with what seemed to be the castle’s resident cat.

After going to the castle, we decided to go to mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. It was only when we arrived that we realized that St. Patrick’s is an Anglican church, not Catholic as we had expected. We went to the service anyways. It was nice, but not really the experience we had hoped for. However, the cathedral itself is quite pretty.

Overall, Dublin was a great trip. It is not necessarily the prettiest of cities, and did not provide for the great photo-ops that Stockholm and Edinburgh did. But one thing that really stands out about Dublin is its people. They were the friendliest people I have ever encountered. From taxi drivers to bartenders to bouncers to shop owners to tour guides, everyone wanted to know where we were from and seem actively interested in what we had to say. My only regret about this trip was that it was too short to visit inland Ireland and the southern areas. Of all the places I have been, this tops my list of where to go again.