A few words about Cardiff

I’m in Oxford now, and am thinking back on my time in Cardiff.  Thought I would put down a few words about the only Welsh stop on my trip.

I arrived in Cardiff sick and very tired. After dropping my bags in a luggage storage room I wandered into the main city, not too far away from my hostel. The Cardiff River Side Backpackers is a very well placed hostel, directly across the river from the Millennium Stadium. For around £18/night, I was in a 4 bed room (albeit on the top floor, which was a lot of stairs in the morning), had free breakfast, free WiFi, excellent cooking facilities, all the usual amenities, plus friendly staff and an antisocial cat. Walking the 5 minutes into town, I accidentally discovered the Cardiff Market, a busy indoor arcade with multiple produce vendors, meat and fish vendors, odds and ends shops, and a lonely bread stall. Instantly hungry, I bought the necessities for a sandwich, and headed straight back to the hostel. The walk took me past Cardiff Castle, a sight I decided to take in the next day. After a filling sandwich, I took my sore and sick self to bed, and slept for 6 or so hours. Bottom bunk again, this time I had tons of head room and avoided the sore head when waking up. Realizing the day was dead, I lazed around on the computer for a bit, finished up my last blog entry, and went back to bed.

The next day I woke up feeling a little more human, like and much more rested. The included breakfast is darn good at the hostel with multiple cereals, lots of juices, yoghurts, toast, bagels, croissants, and more, all unlimited! My first stop was the castle, which I was quite excited to see. An admission of £7.50 (concession) didn’t surprise me as I’m used to expensive admissions by now. I excitedly read through the history of the castle on the wall, working my way to the new film showing in the almost brand new interpretation center. As an older lady and I filed into the gorgeous, modern viewing room, the guide sat down and presented us with the following warning. “Now, I’ll just mention a couple things about this film before it starts,” she said cautiously. “It is a modern interpretation of history. You will see 2000 years of history condensed into 7 minutes. If you have any questions when it’s over, I’ll be around to ask.” She scurried out of the room, and the presentation started. Now, I will try my best to summarize what transpired over the next 7 minutes. In short, the film is about a teenage girl who somehow goes through the history of the castle from the Romans to the present day, but the whole thing is set in the present day, like getting chased around by Cromwell’s forces on a modern day construction site. I was…confused, and the older woman, well she just looked pissed. Exiting the viewing room, the guide offered what I can only describe as a consoling smile. “It’s a bit vague, isn’t it? Yea, some of the guides here don’t even understand some of what’s happening. I really do think it needs some work.” I feel bad for her! Standing there day in and day out, consoling the baffled crowds of tourists too confused to know what to say. I wasn’t angry over wasted time or anything silly like that, if anything, I feel bad that Cardiff has missed this excellent opportunity. A venue like that (and the new interpretation center is beautiful) should go hand in hand with a high quality, entertaining yet educational Discovery Channel style production. As it is, you actually have to know the history of the castle already to know what is going on, and even then it’s confusing. At the time, it was a swing and a miss, but the rest of the castle still had promise. Unfortunately however…the film set the pace for the rest of the castle. It isn’t that the castle isn’t impressive, or that it is boring, it’s that the people in charge of displaying it have done a poor job monopolizing on the significant history of the castle and the resources available to them. I felt bad for the castle, that it wasn’t wowing people with its significant role in history. The easiest way to get some wows is with the AudioGuide system. Already implemented at the castle, it offers visitors the chance to see the castle at their own pace. They simply haven’t monopolized on it enough, only offering about 20 commentaries. That seems like plenty, but at 1 minute on average each, that’s not a lot of time. It also didn’t help that one of the gates where there were at least 3 more was closed off for preparations to a festival next week. I found myself number hunting, punching in random numbers hoping to find some commentary I missed here or there. I must sound angry. But I insist that I’m not, nor do I feel like I somehow didn’t get my money’s worth. $14CAD is a bargain to get to stand at the top of the keep in a castle older than my own country. For the most part, I just feel bad that Cardiff has underutilized this monumental attraction. And unfortunately…Cardiff doesn’t stop with the castle, but more on that later. Hungry from my expedition, I looked around the city for a while, seeing areas I missed before. The broad street is a long street filled with stores, an absolute shopper’s paradise. All the major brands are there, all the brands I don’t really care about. Moving on, I saw the City Hall and Museum of History, both of which I decided to visit the next day. Finding a small quaint looking pub, I noticed some well priced food and settled in. The Rummers Tavern is very UKish (since I don’t really know what “Welsh” is and it would be near suicide to call it English), the Ales are all hand pulled, food is ordered from the bar, and the staff are generally pretty friendly. The local brew was refreshing, and the 8oz steak was cheap at only £5. It was cooked to perfection, medium rare as I asked, but unfortunately had no flavour to speak of. Strike two for Wednesday.

Fortunately, my day was going to be redeemed as I was meeting friends from the Regimental Band of the Royal Welsh, whom I met at the Royal Nova Scotia International Tattoo. Determined to walk from the train station in Newport to their barracks where they rehearse, I got myself completely lost, and eventually just called a cab (strike one for David’s navigation skills). In my defence, I had directions written down, and NONE of the streets are marked. If I ever complain again about North American streets not being marked, remind me of this. A great night of catching up and meeting new people was refreshing, and I went to bed that night quite happy, regardless of the day’s disappointments.

As planned, after another wonderful breakfast, I was off to see the City  Hall and National History Museum. The City Hall is understandably closed on a weekday, but is nonetheless impressive to view from the outside, or take in while having a picnic on the huge lawn in front of it. The history museum is next door, and is similarly impressive. Admission is free, and upon orientating myself with the free map, I headed eagerly for the exhibit on the history of the Welsh, hoping to learn something about the local culture. I was immediately struck by the attractiveness of the room I was entering. Long and narrow, it seemed like it was to be viewed in a counter-clockwise direction. The number of ancient artefacts was highly impressive, especially for someone from a country which never saw the Bronze Age. Unfortunately, the display was not meant to be viewed in any particular direction, and I found myself jumping not only between centuries, but between millennia, from the Crusades to the discovery of Iron, etc. And it was about the Age of Iron when I noticed that none of these exhibits had a Welsh slant to them. I was hoping that the Welsh would take advantage of this beautiful museum to teach visitors something about history from a Welsh point of view. After all, the exhibit IS called “The Evolution of Wales”. There were mentions here and there, and as the exhibits are closer to current day, they make mention of specific actions taken by the Welsh nobility, or other highly important people. But nowhere in the exhibit of “The Evolution of Wales” did it discuss the quintessential differences between Wales and England. Why are the Welsh so fiercely patriotic? What separates Welsh culture from English culture? Why would it be suicide to describe a Welsh pub as feeling “English”? I’m no expert, but I believe these are topics which could have been covered in an exhibit called “The Evolution of Wales”. My complaints aside, it is a lovely museum, and another section covers in some detail the origins of the world through tectonic shifts, the various prehistoric ages, the dinosaurs. The upstairs gallery which I ventured into, but did not linger, has a wonderful display of worldwide art throughout the ages, including from what I could tell some priceless one of a kinds. But I am no fine arts specialist. I look at a painting and think “oooo pretty painting!” I might as well just look at them online.

With memories of the previous supper, I decided to take Thursday night’s dinner into my own hands. I stopped by the Cardiff Market again, stopped at the deli and picked up some bits of lamb. Some curry balti sauce and a bag of rice later; I was ready to make my own supper. I spent the afternoon and evening being lazy and planning the rest of my trip, with a brief break for cooking and savouring the delights of my own cooking (apparently I’m not too bad!). That past, I was easily talked into a night on the town, which I shall not delve too far into. Needless to say my head hurt this morning, and I discovered that the Cardiff nightlife is anything but disappointing.

I left Cardiff not disappointed, but wishing that one of the four capital cities of the UK showed everyone why it is Wales, and not just another part of England.  Now that I’m back into England, let’s see how Oxford goes!

I will leave you with an image of how the Welsh view Canada (from a very stereotypical point of view of course) in symbols.  Some, I’m not even sure what they are supposed to be, points for anyone who can name the more obscure ones!

Canterbury Tales, Portsmouth Sails, and a good warm Bath

What is the definition of a city in the UK? Got it? Stumped? A city is a populated area which has within its boundaries a Cathedral. Maybe this is only surprising to me, but you to have a tiny little town such as Wells in the South West, which is technically a city with a population of just over 10,000 is baffling.


It feels like ages since I have last written, but it has only been six days. I left busy London on Wednesday morning for the quiet City (realistically a town) of Canterbury. A city best known for its Cathedral, “Tales”, and a long history of being a drive through on the way to the continent, I can confidently say now that it is all of the above. Arriving by bus (and a stinky one at that) I fumbled my way to my hostel, Kipps Independent Hostel, which once rated best in the UK. It was an excellent stay, especially for the bargain price of £14.50 per night. My one mistake however, was choosing bottom bunk. I now feel all the sympathy in the world for submariners, I hit my head both mornings as I got up, and have the bruise to show for it. I would certainly recommend it to anyone however! After dumping my bag I went for a stroll through town, delighted to find the streets full of carts, students returning from school, and the ubiquitous tourists taking it all in. I took a tour of the town on the River Stour, with the entertaining George. At around £7 it was certainly worth it, the lower
perspective gives you a new view and if you can block out the tourists, and George’s well rehearsed jokes, you almost feel like you are in the 15^th century traveling the River Stour in a row boat. Approaching 4:30PM, I went on a quest for food, discovering the pasty. Apparently I have been oblivious to these because since I noticed a little shop in Canterbury, I have seen them everywhere, or maybe they just aren’t big in London. With a Chicken and Mushroom pasty warming my back from my backpack, I wandered back to my hostel, but was stopped by the delicious sights of pastries in a shop window. Contemplating the health of my arteries, I spotted the most delicious looking apple turnover ever, and £1.20 later, I was in sugar heaven. A flaky pastry around apple slices covered in cinnamon all covered with powdered sugar, now THAT is what an apple turnover should be! Take THAT Timmies. If you ever find yourself in Canterbury, just walk the High Street, and follow your nose from there. Content, I realized it was almost 5 and the tourists and bustling crowds had completely disappeared. I also realized I should get out of the street before the truck ran me over. Turns out (and it’s not just Canterbury, all the small “cities” and large towns are the same) that these pedestrianized areas shut down around 5, and the trucks rule the road, packing up stalls, stocking stores, and trying to hit as many tourists as possible. Luckily I made it to the hostel in one piece.


The next day I planned a trip to Dover to take in the sights of the coast. Local transport runs every half hour the whole way to Dover (around 30 minutes) and for only around £5.50 round trip. Being the first large castle I have seen this trip, the Castle of Dover is a spectacular sight, although I think no matter how many castles I see, it will remain one of my favourites. Situated at the top of the white cliffs, it is land which has been built on since the beginning of the 1^st century AD by the Romans, and commands a spectacular view of the surroundings. The first building of which there is evidence, a Roman pharos (lighthouse) still remains in reasonably good shape, although the top portion was reconstructed. The castle saw more development in the 12^th century, and serious fortifications in the 18^th century with King Henry VIII (that’s right, the big one). Continually operating as a stronghold throughout the centuries, it was fortified against Napoleon as Dover was the most likely place an invasion fleet would come ashore, in such close proximity to France. A long network of tunnels was dug underground, a place for a garrison to live take shelter. In the 20^th century, it was used to spot ships crossing the channel in WWI, and saw expansion in WWII as invasion of Britain seemed likely from the start of the war. More tunnels were built, facilities were modernized, and a whole town’s worth of people slept, ate, and worked underground. From here, both the Dunkirk evacuation of Allied soldiers, and Operation Neptune (the naval half of the D-Day landings) were planned and coordinated by Admiral Ramsay and his staff. The steep £14.50 admission, like the Tower of London, was worth it. Included is access to the whole castle, a guided tour of the underground tunnels (known as the “Secret WWII Tunnels”, though they are not just WWII, and were probably never a complete secret), and free access to a “road train” which can take you around the castle, especially for those with limited mobility. I could have spent my whole day there, and pretty much ended up doing just that. For more commentary on the Castle of Dover, check out my photos online, but I will just say here that the castle is MORE than worth it, a definite recommendation from me.


Aside from the castle, Dover is a pretty little town on the seaside, but with little else to see (that I was made aware of at least). The cliffs are stunning, but seeing them can be difficult whilst standing on top of them. I recommend the view from the Castle of Dover, as it juts out a little to look down the coast.


Returning to the hostel, a bunch of people went out on a hostel funded excursion to the pub. Unfortunately the hostel doesn’t fund free beer, but they will pay for the pool table (where I learned the odd rules to Irish pool), and all the music you wish from the juke box. It was a good night of friend-making, but unfortunately it lead to a slightly later morning the next day.


Friday I had a trip to Portsmouth booked, with a connection in London. Getting up too late, I had to catch the bus that came 50 minutes later, meaning my hour in London to get from Victoria station to Waterloo station turned into 10 minutes. Fortunately the bus got there early, I run quickly, and I made the train. Sort of... The train I was supposed to catch left early (I don’t know why, it doesn’t make sense, but it did), so I caught a train 5 minutes after. I subsequently got in trouble with the ticket checker for being on the wrong train, but I think he left me alone after he realized (with some smug self satisfaction) that the “wrong” train took an hour longer to get to Portsmouth. Oh well.


Once in Portsmouth, I got off a stop too early, and landed myself in the middle of the city rather than the waterfront (where all the touristy things are), and was somewhat lost without a map. Luckily, being a port city, I simply had to follow my nose to the harbour. It quickly became apparent that Halifax and Portsmouth are very similar cities. Both cities have large harbours, large naval forces in garrison, a long maritime history, and history as a defensive position for the whole nation. Portsmouth’s main attraction these days is Spinnaker Tower which is over 100 meters tall and purely for sightseeing. With three levels of viewing decks, it offers great views of the city, although I’m not so sure it was worth the £6.20 to catch the lift to the top. Unfortunately, there is no stairs option, so I paid the fare, and felt sort of…meh…once up to the top. I later learned it was part of the UK’s Millennium project, including other such projects as the London Eye, the Millennium Wheel in Scotland, and the Millennium pedestrian bridge of London. And like most of the other Millennium projects, it ran late, over budget, and was met with mediocre enthusiasm from the local population (Spinnaker Tower ran extremely late, completed in 2004 and at almost twice the original budget). After wandering around the waterfront, admiring the new flashy buildings of Gunwarf Quay, I met my host for my stay in Portsmouth, Oliver. Oliver was working in the office of an MLA, but finished the day I arrived. He was more than happy to share his local knowledge with me, and suggested that if I had my fill of the touristy downtown already, he could show me other areas nearby the next day.


Oliver lives outside of Portsmouth, in a town called Havant (pronounced haven’t). On Saturday we journeyed by train even further from the City to and through many areas which I frankly cannot remember all of the names. We walked a good distance through farmland on walking paths, seeing everything from coast, to rolling hills, to castles and cathedrals. We stopped for ale and my first steak and ale pie at a real country pub along the way. I took few pictures that day, and don’t have much to say either, as it was really a day for me to take in the whole “country” aspect of Britain. Oliver was an excellent tour guide, with information on all the sights and plenty of local perspective (this CouchSurfing thing is really working out!).
Saying goodbye to Oliver and Portsmouth, I was on the train to Bath. I planned to stay with relatives on the outskirts of Bath, Pearl and Bill Kelly. Intent on arriving at a reasonable hour, I skipped my usual afternoon of sightseeing and headed directly to the town of Radstock, where they picked me up and took me to the lightly populated outskirts. A little older than my usual hosts, they are unable to go on long walking journeys, or spend long days on the town, but instantly made me feel at home in their pretty house in the country. Following typical grandmotherly tradition, Pearl made sure I was good and filled, with a home cooked meal and plenty of sweets. I met more family, Pearl and Bill’s son Roger, his wife Sandra, and nine year old daughter Jodie. It was great meeting family abroad, an opportunity I wish I had more often.


Monday was a day purely for sightseeing. Up at the crack of dawn (6:30AM) to catch a ride into town with Sandra, I arrived before anything was open in town. I took the chance to get a feel for the city, and was wowed by the city’s Georgian architecture. My first stop was to the Roman Baths in the center of town. The original baths were buried after the Romans left, and built over top of, most of the original structures destroyed in the process. But after much excavation, the original pools remain, with rebuilt walls and statues for effect. The admission includes a free audio guide which allows you to see the area on your own time. The baths are one of those must see sights in a town. Although I was tempted to feel the hot water springing fourth from the earth, signs caution against it, warning that the water is untreated and unsafe to drink or even touch. Given the colour of the water, I wasn’t about to test my luck (see my photos for more info on that). From the Roman Baths, I went on a free tour of the major historical sites with the Mayor’s Honourary Guides. My group was lead by a surprisingly spry man who must have been in his 80’s, content to lead the group from the front and frequently insisting everyone walk faster. Full of historical information on Bath, with interesting and quirky facts spread throughout, the tour provided a good overview of the 2000 years of recorded history in Bath. Looking for another perspective of the city, I went on the CityTours bus for the first time on my trip. The ubiquitous double-decker busses run every 15 minutes, and go further afield in the City, with either a live guide or an audio guide providing commentary for the sights you are passing. It was nice to see the sights without having to stand as I had for the previous 3 hours, and these tours are available in almost every city in Europe. On the recommendation of a friend, I next went for some food at an Indian restaurant across the street from Bath Abbey. Jamuna puts on a daily lunch special, £6.95 for a 3 course meal, an absolute bargain in a country where a beer costs £3 on average. Serving a curry freshly made daily, the food was delicious, plentiful, and well worth it. It seems an obvious choice for food, but situated on the 2^nd floor, and relatively hidden, there were few customers when I entered. It proved to be a must go for anyone who enjoys Indian food. After a relatively unexciting afternoon, all of my relatives and I went out for a lovely pub dinner, preceded by a beautiful drive through the countryside in quest of a pub which opened before 7PM.


Bath is a beautiful city where a sense of closeness to everything is lent from its small size and long history. I could have spent more time there, but for the sake of seeing more of what’s out there, I am moving on. Tuesday is a travel day, taking me to Cardiff, my first and only stop in Wales. I am spending two whole days there, partially to take in the Welsh history and culture, and partly to get over a now developing head cold. Wish me luck, and I will keep the photos and blogs coming.

iLondon

My last days in London were pretty lazy. Given that I had spent Wednesday through to Saturday running my feet off sightseeing in a busy city, I felt entitled to a bit of a break. I spent the early afternoon of Sunday visiting a plant and flower market with Anton, the likes of which I had never seen before (flower market that is, not Anton). A flurry of busy stall owners shouting out the latest deals, and people pushing through crowds to get to the best deals, it felt like a whole other country, certainly not like Metropolitan, modern London. From the market I visited the British museum, staying until they closed at 5:30. It is hard to describe the British Museum. Albeit a beautiful building, entering into it feels like any other museum. There are exhibits, people strolling from room to room to see more wonderful things. But there comes a point (for me it was in the Ancient Egyptian room), when you realize that you aren’t just looking at “some exhibit”, you are looking at the real deal. No longer are you viewing the replicas and photographs of lesser museums, you are looking at the real deal! Used to those lesser museums, it hit me and I had a “holy shit that’s a real, live, 4000 year old mummy!” Well it turns out it wasn’t so live, 4000 years dead in fact, but the moment quite something. Every room you visit, every exhibit you view, you must remind yourself that this museum doesn’t house replicas. In fact there are a lot of things this museum doesn’t house, like anything British. Interesting statistic, number of exhibits in the BRITISH Museum that are BRITISH in origin: 0. Ah the joys of having once been a globally dominating colonial power… In fact, some countries are really quite angry with the British, and want some of their stuff back! The Greeks, for example, have (or rather had) a series of marble statues from the necropolis which are housed on display in the British Museum, taken from Greece in the 1700’s (+/- 100 years, I can’t remember exactly). For reasons that should be obvious, the Greek government wants these statues back. But for quasi legitimate reasons (the Greeks lack proper safe, but public viewing facilities), the British have refused to return them. In an unheard of move, the Greeks responded by building a grand museum at the foot of the necropolis to house such artefacts. And now, with a modern, safe museum in which to display the statues, the Greeks ask again. Controversially, the British Government and Museum have still refused to return the statues. So I guess it’s finders keepers here in the UK, but soon, more governments are going to want some of their displays back, and start constructing buildings to house them, and asking a little louder for property which is (I would argue) rightfully theirs. In a modern world where multinational ruling bodies decide what is proper for the most possible countries, it is hard to excuse what is essentially looting, no matter which century it happened in. I imagine the Egyptian government is a little confused as to why almost every mummy dug up in Egypt currently resides in the UK! If the British capitulate to the Greeks however, they will quickly find themselves with few exhibits. Keep an eye out for that one in the news!

Monday was spent for the most part at the Science Museum, a grand building with some very impressive displays. But impressive was all. The museum has some very grand displays, but they are almost just that, displays. I felt the museum lacked interactivity, until you reach the top floor where you find a children’s playhouse, where adults stand on the sidelines avoiding eye contact awkwardly (a theme I have noticed regardless of where you are in London). And for a museum district which sees so much traffic, the attempts at interactivity (usually a touch screen computer where you could peruse through oodles of reading material) were hardly designed for a high volume of traffic. This is not to say I wouldn’t recommend the Science Museum. Their displays are impressive, and like the British museum, they have many one of a kind displays from the world over. But if you are looking for a museum where you can really get hands on with science, and learn from some enthusiastic staff (that’s an entirely different matter at the British Science Museum), this is not the place. Below however is one of the most intricate Rube Goldberg machines ever (a perpetual motion machine where one event triggers another to eventually accomplish some simple task), it is a video on display at the science museum. This is only a part of the whole video which can be found at http://www.sciencemuseum.org.uk/videos/on_the_move.aspx

Tuesday, the weather turned “British”. I was amazed that for being here an entire week, I hadn’t seen a single raindrop. But all that was made up for on Tuesday, when it poured literally all day. What a wonderful day to plan and ponder! And plan and ponder I did. My itinerary is set for the next week, taking me to Canterbury, Portsmouth, Bath, and then Cardiff. But I also had a good chance to ponder on the London I have experienced over the past week.

London is a very modern city, where technology is never out of sight. From the constantly updated arrival times at every bus stop in the city, to the ubiquitous use of cell phones, it is at times difficult to get away from that technology which makes life so much easier. And easier it does make life! I have found myself lost without my Blackberry at times, wishing to have a better map (on demand courtesy of Google Maps), or to be able to call ahead to a hostel, but mostly missing the constant map and GPS capability. I walked 15 minutes in one direction believing the Science Museum to be that way, only to find out I had started one block away the other direction. There is always the option of asking a local for directions, but I have been met with many a rude response to my queries, as people are too busy with their technology to have time to deal with real people (ah…how the convenience comes back to bite you).

London’s love of technology culminates in Apple products. Everywhere you look, is an iPhone, an iPod, or an iMac. I think everyone here needs to get a iLife and not just swallow whatever Apple throws at them. I can only explain the number of iNuts as herd mentality, to get whatever latest and greatest everyone else has. There are many great phones and music players out there better than the iLine, but people still swarm to the iCrap. iZombies buying iGarbage don’t bother me on their own, it means less people on my network at home. It is only a shame in that by blindly supporting one company to such an extent, you put its competition at a disadvantage, with fewer funds to improve their already better products. Never mind Research In Motion and their line of Blackberries, Nokia has some of the best smart phones out there, and Palm recently released a product similar but superior to the iPhone. Hopefully companies like Nokia, RIM, and Palm will keep up the good fight, continue to put out superior products, and quietly kick iAss. If someone ever cared enough to make a virus for iPhones, such a thing would spread like wildfire in a city like London (wouldn’t be the first time for something like that), and I guarantee you would shut down business until a solution to the virus was found. Talk about iScrewed!

However, there is a slightly darker side of London’s technology. In London, you are recorded on CCTV (Closed Circuit Television) every 20 seconds. That means that in one day you are recorded on around 1600 different cameras during a day of sightseeing. I believe that would be an average however, because in certain areas, I don’t think it is possible to ever be OFF camera at any point. According to our tour guide, London has 20% of the world’s CCTV Cameras. An invasion of privacy? I believe it shouldn’t be if you aren’t doing anything invasion-able on public property, but one must wonder why security is so tight. At some point you realize that there are no garbage cans to be found anywhere heavily trafficked, your bag is searched practically everywhere, indeed, there is a definite element of paranoia about security in London. Not that it is unfounded… Far back in history, Londoners have been dealing with some pretty…shitty circumstances. Invasion by many foreigners, plagues, fires, bombings, paranoia about the big bomb, smaller bombs planted from within, smaller bombs again. Have I missed anything? Over and over London has found itself under assault. So it’s no wonder that there are CCTV cameras on every corner. Following the IRA garbage bin and letter box bombings, it’s no surprise there are no garbage cans in Westminster, London, or any underground stations (however seriously inconvenient). With recent suicide bombings, it’s a no brainer that your bag would be searched whenever entering a museum or large historic site. So if YOU visit London, careful where you scratch, someone, perhaps many people are watching.

From paranoid London, my first stop is Canterbury, a quaint city with a big cathedral. I’ll let you know more later! Feel free to leave comments on my blog or photos, its good to know people are viewing (whether they are or not).

Towers, beer, and rabbit...

Oh London, such a beautiful city. Full of history…people…pollution. For anyone who may be interested in the workings of my body, I have a very stuffed nose, and I leave a tissue black when I blow my nose...if you were grossed out by that, imagine how I feel. I have no sympathy for you. Otherwise, it is a lovely city. Bustling with activity, there is never a dull moment.

My first day was a blur of confusion, shock at prices, and things happening around me. Arriving around 9AM, with not a wink of sleep, I navigated the intensely confusing Gatwick Airport, making it to the North Terminal by the inter-terminal busses, somehow getting there before a complete shutdown of the busses for “unconfirmed reasons”. Eventually finding my easybus, I would have dozed off during the 1 hour drive if it were not for the company of a friendly but shy Argentinean my age who embarrassedly tried his English out with me. He did well and after a couple words of encouragement, he looked a little less shy, and a little happier to share stories of his home country, and plans of his upcoming visit. Dropped off in the South West of London (Fullham Broadway for anyone familiar with London), I fumbled my way to the Underground, and with much instruction from a transit worker, (less than happy to deal with another silly tourist) found my way to a station relatively close to the hostel. The hostel, which it turns out, is lovely! (See, I’m speaking British already! Ok, well hardly, but I try for a little local culture here and there.) No more than a few years old, Central YHA (Youth Hostel Association) is modern, very clean, and not in the least smelly (as I’m warned many hostels are)! After being dragged out by a well meaning, friendly backpacker from Japan, I made my way back to the hostel around 7, exhaustedly showering, and passing out in bed. We weren’t out that long…it just took me until 2 to find the hostel!

Turns out there are a lot of things to see in London, and after waking up at 7 on Thursday, I made a priority the Borough market, of which I have heard so many good things. From what I saw however, it seems to be a lot of hype. Aside from the world’s biggest (ok, overstating a bit…) pot of curry chicken, which admittedly smelled delicious, the produce was good looking, but nothing amazing. Maybe its my Nova Scotia upbringing, with its delicious fruits and fresh vegetables, or maybe the Thursday market is less spectacular than others, but nonetheless I was underwhelmed. A quick jaunt across Tower Bridge and disbelief at a £7 charge to see the engine room and go to the top of the bridge, I arrived at the highly recommended Tower of London. If I have been amazed with one thing in London so far, this is it. For £14.50 (as a student), it is a steep entry fee, and add in the optional audio tour at £3, it is an expensive affair. But after losing all sense of time in the history of one of London’s great landmarks, 4-5 hours later, I realized I truly had my money’s worth. From my first peak at Roman ruins, to the White Tower (currently hosting a display called Henry XIII, Dressed to Kill, a look into King Henry’s life, including his exploits as an athlete, and athletic he was until he fell off a horse and injured his knee, sending him the way of obesity), to the absolutely jaw-dropping Crown Jewels, the Tower of London was spectacular through and through. The alternative to the audio tour is the free tours offered by the beefeaters, who give you a generally comedic tour of the Tower, throwing in personal experience as well.

The imposing White Tower in the Tower of London

After the tower, and plenty of walking around in the city, the day was pretty much shot, all touristy things closing around 5PM. A trip back to the hostel to recoup and eat some supper later, I found myself in league with a couple of friendly Aussies my age. We headed to a pub down the street (The Green Man if I recall, although there were no green men… truly disappointing) to converse about each other’s countries, over a traditional Fullers Beer (pride of London as I hear, and at £3.50/pint, it had better be something to be proud of. Turns out it is pretty good, but that’s really just the price of domestic beer). Returning to my room, I discovered that of the 5 in the room Thursday night, 3 of us were Canadians. I was worried as to their intentions, putting all the Canadians in one room…lucky I escaped safely that morning.

Checking out around 8, I headed into unknown territory, north towards Archway. I arrived at the house of Anton, a South African (moved after completing med school) Gastroenterologist. We met through CouchSurfing, and it is both his and my first time hosting/surfing. He lives in a nice little townhouse on a quiet street not too far from Highgate Cemetery, and Hampstead Heath. He is trusting, giving me keys to his house, of course, I did leave my gear with him throughout the day, and so the trust is mutual. Heading out from his house, I went on a free walking tour of London’s ritzier districts, starting at 11AM and supposedly going until 1:30. At 2:30, the tour finished, and some of us went to a pub not too far, to enjoy discounted food and purchase discounted tickets for other (non-free) tours run by the company. I purchased two, one for older parts of London, and another for the “Grim Reaper” tour, a walk exploring London’s shadier history. This tour and the Old City tour I saw earlier today were both run by a young man named Ed. A graduate from Cambridge with a degree in English Lit, he is now a standup comedian and actor (snicker…), moonlighting as a tour guide. His tours are humourous, informative, yet not so overbearing that you can’t take in any more information. I sincerely look forward to the Grim Reaper tour on Tuesday night

Anton had informed me about the BBC Proms, a music festival lasting over two months in London, ending tonight (Saturday). I had the chance to see a performance or two, so I hopped on a bus to the beautifl Royal Albert Hall across from Hyde park. After queuing for an hour, and for only £5, I received standing tickets in the gallery, at the top of the theater (where the peasantry stand). The orchestra was (of course) phenomenal, but the standing became quite tiresome after a long day of walking on tour.

The beautiful Royal Albert Hall hosts the BBC Proms

I sat at the edge, peering through the railing, but just about fell asleep (classical does that to me if I’m at all tired, as it is already quite relaxing). So I must admit, I did leave early, avoiding food/back pain, and the crowds flooding out at the end, but I did take in the majority of the show. Regrettably, this means I wasn’t around for the next show, which was Yo Yo Ma, which would have been terrific. I was already considering not attending however, as it would have finished just before 12, and with the tubes shutting down at 12:30, I didn’t want to get stuck in Westminster without a place to sleep. Speaking of a place to sleep, Anton has made me completely at home here. His couch is a twin sized bed, as comfortable if not more so, than the bed at the hostel. I couldn’t imagine a better host.

This morning (Saturday), I walked from Anton’s down the street through a lovely smaller park, coming out the other side upon Highate Cemetery, the famous resting place of Karl Marx (among others). I was going to go in, but upon finding out there is a £3 entry fee, I entered into moral debate with myself, over the prospects of paying to enter a cemetery. It doesn’t seem right to those who rest there… I would feel better knowing where that money was going, but given the state of disrepair of most of the cemetery, I don’t think its going towards maintenance. Check out my photos on Picasa if you haven’t already where there are a couple of panoramic depicting the differing conditions of the cemetery. I may decide to come back later if my curiosity for history outweighs my morals. I continued on to Hampstead Heath, a gorgeous, HUMUNGOUS park just north of the City of London (only a 15 minute tube ride). The park has ponds for dog swimming, ponds for duck feeding, and a “lake” for swimming. Coming from the “City of Lakes”, I was concerned with the colour of the swimming water (a lovely shade of brown residents of Halifax will be quite familiar with). Considering the Thames however, I guess that is just par for the course in London (Thames comes from the Latin word Tamesis, meaning grey). After exploring the heath for a while, I attempted to get into the city, getting completely lost of course, but eventually finding my way to a not so nearby tube station, and zipping along to the meeting place for the Old City tour of London. Again led by Ed, this tour took us through the older parts of London, the City of London itself, rather than Greater London. All sorts of interesting things were explained along the way, such as why the Monarch isn’t allowed into the City of London without ceremonial permission from the Lord Mayor of the City of London, not the Mayor of Greater London. We saw such Hollywood hits as the Knights Templar church from the DaVinci Code, and the clock used as the Hogwarts clock.

From there, I came back to Anton’s house, called home, and we went out for dinner not too far down the street to where we learned was named the top Italian restaurant in London by the Guardian. I enjoyed my first ever taste of Rabbit (meat is murder, tasty, tasty murder…) and noted that the white meat tastes like chicken, and the dark meat, like nothing else, but very delicious. And here I sit, far past my bed time, but oh well, no commitments tomorrow. There is a festival on the Thames, and I will go check it out, before a supper with other couchsurfers here at Anton’s. He is apparently quite the cook, and I am curious to see what he cooks up! Something to do with Chocolate Hazelnut cake though…

Interesting tidbits and observations about London so far:

- The flag of the UK is not a Union Jack, but a Union flag. It is not a jack unless it is on a ship.

- It is treasonous to even speak ill of having a monarch

- Some of the Underground’s train cars are made by Bombardier (that’s a Quebec company for those of you who don’t watch Historica Moments)

- Quebec has its own Government office, aside from the Canadian Embassy

- The Crown Jewels are ridiculous! Why does a modern monarch need a piece of jewelry that costs enough to purchase a small country?

- London public transportation is excellent. I paid only £24 for a 7 day travel card, granting me unlimited rides within zone 1 and 2. Seem steep at around $45CAD? Consider that a 1 day unlimited ride ticket costs around £4.50 ($8.50CAD). It hasn’t taken me longer than 30 minutes to get anywhere within zones 1 and 2, the area of London along the Thames and more than a few kilometers back from the river, and if I need to get out of these zones, apparently the pass works on the busses anywhere

- Anyone who dies in the houses of Parliament, that's ANYONE, is entitled to a Royal burial. Only problem is a law which makes dying in the House illegal. So anyone who has ever died in Parliament probably has been carted out the back to be pronounced dead in the hospital, to avoid them being criminals in their last moments.

- Why have I not had Rabbit before!?!?!? Its delicious!

I do believe that is all I have for you tonight. I will point you in the direction of my photo album at http://picasaweb.google.com/fosterd3. I’m pretty sure If you subscribe it will notify you about new pics. I hope you aren’t too tired of my story to check out the photos! And please, leave comments!

Cheers for now,

I will be back with more soon!

Holy crap! I just left on a jetplane, and I don't know when I'll be back again!

Holy crap, I just boarded a plane for the UK, to be away from everything I know for 8 months… This is what I sit here thinking, as I fly towards London at over 400 miles/hour. I suppose the whole lead up to this trip, I knew what I was getting involved with, but it never really hit me. And now, on flight TS296 Halifax – Gatwick, it sinks in. You hear about people taking similar trips all the time. It sounds amazing, you want to do it yourself! Some wish they had the time to do it, some the money, some just the courage to leave everything secure and safe to just gallivant around a foreign continent for an extended period of time. Per haps I only had the gumption to undertake such a trip because I didn’t fully comprehend the scale of my undertaking, but now I am.

Sunrise from the plane over the Atlantic Ocean

But don’t take this to mean I am scared of what I have planned (or rather have decided and will haphazardly plan as I go). On the contrary, I am absolutely ecstatic to be on this plan, next to a friendly chap from Bristol and a lady whom I have yet to talk to as she reads through the Air Transat magazine about all the wonderful foreign places they can take you.

I realize I am getting some funny looks, perhaps it was something about conferring with the stewardess (steward politically correct these days?) before using electronics. Don’t worry folks, the wireless is off! I’m not going to bring down the plane. As far as I know, terrorists don’t keep blogs…not very long ones at least.

Oh dear, what a thing to type on a plane. Note to anyone planning any future transatlantic flights, if you fly Air Transat, bring your own entertainment! I haven’t seen a movie this old since I did driver training with movies where they still kicked the tires to assess the overall quality of the engine.

To any readers interested in technology, being a technophile myself, I will be inserting small parts about technology to help the traveler, what I find helps and hinders me as I go along. Maybe I’ll mark the section with something special so my parents know which section is guaranteed to induce boredom. Oh wait…so far I think it could be the whole ramblomatic entry I have written so far!

But for my first tech update… I realized the keyboard for the EeePC was just toooooo small. I found an Acer Aspire on sale at FutureShop for $259 + tax, and was highly impressed with the specs! With the new 1.6Ghz Atom processor, 1GB RAM, 160GB hard drive, an 8.9” screen, and a keyboard not too far off a typical laptop keyboard. My typing speed has increased, and my errors are far down from the Eee, making for an overall better experience, and at 1.1kg, it’s hard to dispute as the ideal electronic travel companion, and it isn’t bad on battery either. Without wireless, screen at minimum brightness, and 76% remaining I apparently have 2:40 remaining. Not bad, but wait for OLED screens on netbooks however, and you should expect to see 8-10 hours quite soon. Exciting prospects there! Well, if you’re a sucker for technology at least.

I suppose I should end this or add some real content, but there really isn’t much to update people on, except for the moment of “Holy #*%&” you get as you board the plane, leaving everything. It’s awesome! I would recommend it to anyone!

So ciao for now, I’ll update you when something good happens!

PS DEAR GOD…I JUST REALIZED I HAVE THE KICKING KID BEHIND ME…sighhhhh……………