Casnewydd, WALES

What’s a trip to the UK without Wales in it? I took a scenic bus ride through the English countryside reaching my final destination; Newport, Wales or as the Welsh call it Castlewydd. The Welsh have their own language which I believe derived from the Celtic language and whilst I may not understand a bloody word that comes out of their mouth, at least it sounds like a pretty song when they speak.

Upon travelling to Wales, one must pay a fee to enter from England, on a toll bridge known as the Second Severn Crossing. This bridge can be seen for miles before you arrive at the bridge itself and is approximately 5 km in length (this would not be the way to go for my mum or anyone else having a fear of bridges).

Leaving Wales, of course is free. On the way back to England, I took the train which runs under the river. The train tracks run under a tunnel which has been carved out of the channel since 1886. It runs two and a quarter miles under the water via the Severn Tunnel. Water must be continuously pumped out of the tunnel and only one train goes through the tunnel at a time (the former information I learned thankfully AFTER travelling through the tunnel). I could sense when the train made its deep decent (has a steep gradient 1 in 90 and 1 in 100) when my ears “popped” under the pressure. Oy!

Newport or Castlewydd (depending on which language you speak) is officially a city because the Queen said so. ;-) It’s full of culture and history. Art works and the theater can be found down by the river front (Glan yr Afon) along with a cool castle. It saddened me to see some of the great historical structures in ruins. These ruins get hit hard by the erosion in the rising and falling of the tides and its only inhabitants now are pigeons.

Wales is a must see. I love its people, history and culture and look forward to a return trip to visit Snowdonia (a national park in the north). If you're planning a trip to the UK, why not try out Wales?

Christmas old English style

Christmas is meant to be a wonderful time of the year. Yet so many do not fully understand the true meaning of the holiday. This makes me want to write the whole holiday off Grinch-style. Better yet, Bah hum bug. After the long afternoon of hustle and bustle fighting holiday crowds for some Xmas shopping (what part of this is supposed to be fun again?),  I come to Greyfriars Church for some true Christmas Spirit.

There is something magical about being in 700 year old church illuminated by hundreds of candles whilst a small choir sings A cappella Christmas carols in Latin. That is just the beginning...

Vineyard Church Band had a rockin' Christmas service with a new fantastic twist on the carols of old and I went to see them perform. Greyfriars church was formed in 1311 A.D. That alone impresses me considering I was raised in a country not more than 240 years old. I'd also like to point out that when a Brit says something was built new, about 60 years ago, I smirk and shake my head. To me, 60 years is twice my lifetime! New, Ha! Puts things in perspective for sure.

So maybe it's not too late for me to rethink Christmas after all...

Fox shoots man

As most Americans already know, it is hunting season! But what if the animals hunted humans instead???!?!? Here's a story covering the very thing:

In January 2011, a wounded fox made headlines when it sought revenge by putting its paw around the trigger of a gun and shooting a man in the leg during a hunting trip in the Belarusian countryside.

The man tried to finish the animal off with the butt of a rifle when the fox took the matter into its own paws and turned the tables on the shooter.

Following the incident, a police officer in the Grodno region of the eastern European country said: “The animal fiercely resisted and in the struggle accidentally pulled the trigger with its paw.”

Birthday cakes

Yesterday I was at a friend's birthday party. It was nice to see everyone again and we had a splendid time. It was funny too because I thought I was the only one who didn't know how to bake a cake when one of the girls admits she didn't know what baking soda was and added the wrong ingredient. So the cupcakes were a wee bit flat :P I have learned this now, you will not find baking soda on the shelf anywhere, baking powder yes, but not baking soda.

If you have a recipe that calls for baking soda simply make it by mixing 1 part Sodium bicarbonate: 2 parts cream of tartar

Presto! There you have it. Mystery of the flat cakes solved!

Lost in translation

I spent yesterday as a bookworm in the Reading libraries. Some of these libraries can be massive and hold books on several floors, whilst others are simple one room, one floor (much like the Lehighton, PA) libraries. Anywhere I can curl up in a good book makes me happy. Intrigued by the book on the shelf titled, "Spelling, it's not that complicated", I lift it off the shelf and page through. As many of my readers or friends know, I'm much like Lois Lane in the sense that I can write but am most certainly the world's most horrible speller. Paging through this book, I learned a few things.

One, that the book was comparing the English American language with the British language. I've learned a few new things but mostly I've learned that you can spell a word wee bit differently and it can still be "right".

For example, Brits add a "U" to words, where American's drop it. ie: colour v. color
both are correct.

Brits replace 'z' with 's' as in organised. American = organized

Think my finger sneezed across the keyboard and added another letter? Nope. It's OK for Brit's to spell travelling with 2 'l's whilst American's use the work traveling. Both are correct. Since I just mentioned another word above let's talk about that one: whilst or while. How about we just plain use the word "during"? and forget about it...I could go on and on but this could get boring so my next topic is how the language is vocalized (should I put "s" in that word? dear me).

Whilst I was in Cambridgeshire, it became verra clear that the pronunciation of the letter "h" was omitted. For instance, the woman who brought my breakfast said " 'ere you go and 'ave at it". Same when my little cousin likes to put on his "English" accent and say " 'allo Gov'na". He's too cute.

Here in Berkshire, they pronounce their vowels differently and put emphasis on different syllables. Prime example is they way they say their county name. Pronounced "Barkshire" like a dog bark instead of Berkshire emphasis on the ERRRRRR part (-;

The Thames River? omit the h sound, change the vowel sound and you've gotten it. It sounds almost like The Tim's River until your done.

Other fun words, schedule and leisure:

Schedule- American's will say it as if it has a k in it. skedule but the brits say shes-ule (I also want to know why schedule is pronounced this way but school is not pronounced Shuul-wouldn't that make sense to go along with "Shes-ule" :P )

Leisure centre /center(also er and re are switched between the two languages)- a leisure centre is a YMCA or gym. Americans will say it like seizure leisure; and Brits will say it like measure leisure. So there are just a few things to play around with next time you want to work on your accent. Have fun Josiah (-;

Insane trip to Bath

In olden days, the days of Jane Austin, women made trips to Bath Spa to relax and heal. My trip to Bath Spa was of the most stressful, insane trips yet in the UK. But I’m getting ahead of myself in this story. This story begins on a Friday morning when an old co-worker of mine asked me to accompany him to the town of Newbury. I had plenty on my plate (job applications, meetings to set up and errands to run), but he insisted that it wouldn’t take all day, it would be a nice trip and he'd take me to lunch. I like food, so I agreed.

Newbury. Wonderful little town with a genuine English village feel to it. I’ve been to this town before but never spent the entire day trudging around in it. My co-worker went off to an interview once we hit Newbury and I wandered around in circles. What else am I to do? I have a bus ticket and fifteen pounds in my pocket as I thought we were just lunching. After his interview, we’re off to dinner (another Wetherspoon’s of course. We usually go there or Nando’s when he invites me out for dinner). He orders something for me and so I’ll be surprised to see what it is when the food arrives (in pubs you order food & pay at the bar, not sitting at the table). He also brings back a pint. This goes over verra well since I haven’t eaten anything yet. But after dinner I’m feeling good and this dude drags me out to some ancient ruin called Donnington Castle.

So we walk in the twilight to the ruins of what use to be a castle- now a crumpled tower, but argh I’ve no camera because I didn’t think to bring one on his “quick trip”. The castle is pretty cool even if I can barely see it because it’s dark outside. It was originally built in 1380s then awarded to Sir John Boys by The Black Prince after the civil war. (Here leads to confusion, because I thought Edward was the Black Prince and according to the stone tablet at the castle, the fortress was given by the Black Prince, but other history will tell you King Charles I took hold of the castle and gave it to Sir John).

Ready to head back home I trudge back towards the town of Newbury, but he wants to go out drinking and not before we stop at a store for what? Heck if I know, but then my co-worker says he wants to buy me a blouse. Oh boy… so he comes out with a school girl’s uniform top. I think he’s joking, he is not. *slaps forehead* Too make a long story short, he’s gets drunk and I’m babysitter. We go from one pub to the next and return to the original pub we were in for dinner, only now he orders beer, hot chocolate and pancakes…what a combo! No doubt the medications he’s on only added to the chaos pint after pint. I’ve had enough fun on our little trip and would just like to get back to my own “To do” list. It’s now about 8pm and I’ve accomplished nothing with my day. He refuses to go home and I’ve also missed my bus with no hope of catching another one especially with only five pounds in my pocket. He says it’s ok, we’ll take the train and he will buy my ticket for inconvenience, so we burn some time waiting for the train (which isn't expected for 2 hours) by going to the movies. I drag Drunken Mess off to see The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn. I must admit he’s a trooper through this movie because even I thought it was horrible. Still waiting for a plot? Me too. The most positive thing I can say about the movie is that Bell’s wedding gown is nice-simple yet elegant. So anyway, the movie is over and it’s half past ten. Shall we get on the train and head home? Yes. But this dude has other ideas and wants to run away from home and in doing so drags me along with him. I missed the train stop for Reading and so now the next stop is where?!?!? Bath. *Smacks forehead* DOH!

With little cash and nothing but the sweater on my back (not even a toothbrush), he wants to take a surprise trip to Bath! Stop the insanity! Bath is a fine place to travel to I’m sure, but not at two o’clock in the morning. Sheesh! The last train of the night arrives in Bath and dumps us off into the empty streets. Next we try to find a hotel room in which to crash. Five of the hotels in the town centre are booked full and Dude is wandering around an unfamiliar town asking anyone he can find, directions (*Note: the only people out on the streets at one thirty in the morning are the drunks-how reliable are their directions??? BRILLIANT.) After an hour or two of wandering the vacant streets of Bath trying to locate a hotel, we locate a youth hostel with a room (bless his heart, this guy still thinks I’m a youth) but atlas, we cannot stay there. Next we stroll over to the only thing open at this time of the night- McDonalds - where all the drunks flock to like moths to an open flame. I was not verra excited to be in or near this charade. This old gal wanted nothing more than a nice warm bed to sleep in and to stop wandering the empty, frigid streets of Bath. One drunken man tried crossing the street when all of a sudden a car horn blasts and his friends pull him back on to the curb saving him from being run over. I hear the drunken man remark, “I thought we were in Europe.”

“We are in Europe,” reply his friends.

“No. The other Europe. Where the cars come from the left side of the street. Not the bloody UK.” The drunk retorts.

I did all but pee myself listening to this madness. At almost three o’clock in the morning, we locate a hotel outside the town centre and bless her heart, the receptionist gives us a room extension so we can sleep in and not have to check out until one p.m. This old girl *not happy at all* just wants a hot shower and to fall into bed.

The next morning, aka. Saturday noon; drag on the same clothes I wore from yesterday. Ew, I know. What a fun surprising trip this has turned out to be! *Loaded sarcasm* Well at least I’m showered right? My old co-worker says it’s like backpacking and only sometimes you need clean underpants and socks the rest will be fine. I beg to differ. Since I’m in such a pleasant mood, he wants to continue the insanity by touring Bath in the sunlight this time (or overcast skies as this is England). He orders me another surprise lunch at Nando’s  this time. Nando’s (Portuguese food from an African franchise) is a pretty cool place you should try it if you’re given the opportunity. He also wants to continue this madness into Bristol. Sure, why not? I’ll just wear the same clothes until they can stand on their own…

He also wants to hop into one of the spa pools but again poor planning leads to no swimming gear. Too bad because that would’ve been awesome but we settle for a tour of the old Roman bath pools instead. The line is soooo long it takes an hour to get to the end so instead I wander into the Bath Abbey. This place an architectural wonder (as I over use the word in all my blogs) and we stay for a Christmas carol service which is really cool especially when the little choir boy stood up and sang his solo. They do this every year so if you’re in Bath around Christmas, check it out sometime. They also have a Christmas street market complete with Christmas carolers on the sidewalk. But if that’s not enough for you (as is the case with this bloke) take a stroll away from all the Christmas chaos and head toward the river. It is here I lost him somewhere in the city. I tried calling his cell but he’s not the most responsible and forgets to charge his phone so it’s dead and not ringing. This reminds me of the time I was abandoned in London and déjà vu kicks in but I’m calm and go about sightseeing. There is a man in the street entertaining onlookers by juggling swords in the air and people playing in a nearby fountain.

It grows colder and gets darker so I head back to the train station to end this crazy weekend. My co-worker catches up with me nearby and I talk him out of the insanity of Bristol when he insists on buying new clothes and makes yet another trip to another department store- (I think I’ve been in almost every Waitrose and Sainsbury’s in Reading AND Bath now). We hop on the train to Reading and head home finally. I lose him once again at the Reading station (this boy is slipperier than a greased pig) and head home. Relieved that I’m back, I can conclude this craziness with a nice, hot, relaxing bath. And what better way to end a trip to Bath than with a bath?

Cambridge

Cambridge University the rival school to Oxford University (thank goodness I didn’t wear my “Oxford” sweatshirt here). In my own comparison, I found the schools to be verra similiar but each with their own charm. Everything in Oxford is walkable or easily accessed by bicycle. They basically close down the college to vehicles. Cambridge allows for more traffic and has a fair share of buses. Although, Cambridge has bikers and walkers also. Cambridge U is made up of several colleges and the schools are magnificent. Most allow you to tour them as long as you don’t interrupt studies, it is after all a school. Cambridge is the university where Charles Darwin was a scholar. Talk about Uberslacker, his father sent him to be a clergyman and he partied his arse off at school then became a world renowned scientist. :-P

Trinity College and Chapel are free to tour, but St. John’s College asks for a small fee. King’s College is beautiful and centrally located and near the street shops (aka. Lion Yard) along with Corpus Christi College and the Sedgwick Museum (also free). On the corner of Benet and King Street is a sight to see. A large clock, the Corpus Grasshopper clock, has a 24-carat gold dial with a beastly grasshopper on it. They call it the “Chronophage” or Time-eater. It’s unique in that it has no hands or digital readings. Instead there are LED lights cut into the face of the clock running rapidly along the clock to show the correct hour, min, sec. It is said to last for two centuries (if the world lives that long).

The lawns in Cambridge are nice big greens where kids gather to study, play, relax and teach their dogs to fetch, etc. There is a little round church before you reach the river in Cambridge and several other sights to see. The river adds to the effect of the many rumored “ghosts” of Cambridge by emitting a great fog in the early mornings. There are ghost tours of Cambridge for ye tourists, if ye are into that kind of stuff.

Kettle Yard I thought would be an interesting little side trip off the main street. It hosts an old church, and art studio. I like to think of myself as an artist or at least at one point in my life I had sketched and painted. The stuff they packed into Kettle Yard studio had me puzzled. The art collection was all about stripes and line contours. Meaning, all the paintings were of LINES….and I was supposed to see what was exciting about a bunch of works on the wall with stripes running vertically??? I just didn’t get it. It’s not even as though if you stare at them long enough something jumps out at you like in those mesmerizing puzzles called “can you see the picture?” For the record I’ve never really been good at those puzzles.

The colleges on their own are something to be seen with many years of fine architecture and history to be had. Let’s not forget of course, the food. If you starve in Cambridge or find yourself unhappy with the food, it’s your own fault. There are plenty of fine restaurants in which to eat here. I tried a place called The Regal. A cinema transformed into a pub. There are pictures inside that show the cinema in it’s prime in the 1930s. Great pub atmosphere with reasonable prices. Cambridge was a great little weekend adventure though, I don't see myself hurrying back to do any studying any time too soon.

St. Ives

As I was going to St. Ives,
I met a man with seven wives.
Every wife had seven sacks,
and every sack had seven cats.
Every cat had seven kits,
Kits, cats, sacks, wives;
How many were going to St. Ives?

This poem made the little town of St. Ives-Cornwall famous. However, I traveled to the "other" St. Ives in Cambridgeshire to see where I began. Our house still stands on the corner of The Waits in the quaint little town of St. Ives some 30 years later. The local butcher shop has closed and a Waitrose has moved in near the library. The fish and chip shops were replaced by Thai restaurants and mum's favorite little bakery has been closed for years but they still hold street markets in the town square on a Saturday. The canal across from the house is still there (who would move that??) and mum, you are not going crazy; the wooden area is still there west of the house behind the St. Ives Parish via the Great Ouse River foot path (aka. the "canal"). The old church bells still toll on the hour and you can hear it whilst walking through the thicket. Sheep are grazing along the canal in pastures green. And the swans still attack humans when they think they may be harboring food, (while I am sure it is the not the same swan that my mum used to shoo away, I'm quite sure it's a direct descendant with it's own vendetta). The weather was unusually bright and sunny- no fog or rain on this trip much to my mother's dismay. Visited the Norris museum while I was in town. It's a tiny little place, but with much history at your finger tips. All and all it was a great little adventure to see where I started out in life. Cheers Mum and Da for sharing!

The "throne" of England

Hitting the head, off to the can, taking a trip to the outhouse, skip to the loo, praying to the porcelain god, powdering your nose in the powder room, using the john, latrine (these last two remind me of the jokes from the movie ROBIN HOOD: MEN IN TIGHTS- use to be shit house...), commode, privy, lav or lavatory, restroom, washroom, bathroom, or whatever your name for it might be; all toilets are pretty much the same.

Let me curb your curiosity about English toilets. Writing this only because I've run out of other crap to tell you about. (A ha ha ha...get it? the pun?) Wow these blogs are really going down the....okay, enough with the potty jokes.

One of my first impressions of British toilets when I arrived was the fact that toilet paper is dispensed in small flat sheets like tissues (2-ply) instead of rolls. Understand that it also comes in rolls, but to see it shaped like tissues was a first for me. Also, I do not mean to complain. I'm very thankful they have T.P. here. When I was in Argentina, I learned the veterinary school in the poorer part the country didn't have t.p. and was thought to be a luxury not a necessity. I beg to differ. Regardless I was not about to wipe anything with old newspaper which was offered either.

Second impression, (was yet another public place and people wonder why it is I fear using the ladies' room in public), was amazement. For they charge you to drop your drawers. No lies, it costs some 30p (30 pence/or 40 cents) to enter the lavatory in the train station. But that's all inclusive of hand washing and super hot-burn -the - flesh- off - your - hands- air drying machine as well.

They charge you for the bottle of water to drink and then charge you to "recycle" it. Seriously what has this world come to? If after all of this, you are considering suicide in the bathroom by electrocution,  you can't. Because most bathrooms don't have any outlets in them to plug in a hair dryer or toaster to throw into the tub! It is with that morbid thought I bid you good day.

London: Celebrating my 2nd birthday in the UK

To my viewers who were unaware, I was born in the United Kingdom, England to be specific. I've always wanted to revisit my birthplace and well, now here I am. I celebrated my "2nd" birthday in the city of London this year. The trip to London included all your tourist attractions minus the changing of the guards (I keep turning up at the wrong castle at the wrong time for this- for those of you who didn't know {me included} the changing of the guard happens on even days at Windsor castle and odd days in Buckingham Palace).

Buckingham Palace- I learned a few things here. Firstly, this does not house the royal family. The queen lives in Windsor and the Princes live in the Clarence House (the house in which the beloved Princess Diana lived). Not that I am any particular judge of castles, but I found Buckingham to be rather small.

No trip is complete without a trip to Times Square (in England they call their's Piccadilly Square). It is here that I viewed some really unique fountains and watched as traffic spun roundabout in the wrong direction (still getting use to the fact that my fellow countrymen drive on the "wrong" side of the road). Lucked out as well here, they were having a real posh car show featuring...my favorite....MINI COOPERS!!! And whilst I did not get one for my birthday (sadness) I did get to stand next to a sporty one. To be honest, I couldn't choose between the black and white one or the blue and white....decisions, decisions.


After taking a lovely stroll through the park and watching the geese attack picnickers, I make my way to The house of Parliment and my favorite, Big Ben. Which I learned had a clock face made in Reading (the town I currently live in). Cool. Off to the London Eye, which reminds me of a gia-normous ferris wheel you can ride to the top to see the whole of London (I believe there is a scene from Fantasic Four 2 with the London Eye in it...Oh Chris Evans is hot hot hot! wait off topic...)

...what was I saying?? Oh right Parliament...(boring stuffy old rulers) anyway cross the river over Tower Bridge which is not to be confused with London bridge which is way smaller and rumor has it, was sold to an American in Arizona; (he thought he bought the big bridge and ended up with London Bridge, poor old sot). Still thinking of Chris Evans......*shakes head*

Oh right, over the river to the traitor's gate of London Tower. Now the gate is boarded up but it is said to have been the route in which they would take traitors such as the infamous Ann Boleyn (one of King Henry's wives). They were held in London Tower until their hearing and beheaded-ness. I believe that they even put those heads (such as William Wallace aka Braveheart) on stakes around the gate. How's that for a bedtime story?

Avoiding the protesters at St. Paul's Cathedral, I walked around Westminster Abby instead. There is so much wonderful architecture in these alt cites. Let's not forget the amazing artwork, statues erected in memory of the greats and those entertaining street actors. London is definitely a place to be seen.

Next time I'm in London...it's off to THE Library, probably never to be seen or heard from again, lost in all it's wonderment. I'm such a book nerd. Or perhaps the British museum??

Fish pedicure

Ever wanted to be considered bait? Well now here is your chance. If you can stand giggling whilst being tickled by the tiny Garra Rufa fish commonly know as the "doctor fish" a toothless carp eating away at the flesh of your feet, then this is for you. Although it has been banned in the States due to fear of spreading diseases, it is all the rage here in the UK. Is it costly? Yes. Do the fish eat you alive? No. They nibble at the dead skin in and between your toes and on your feet. Hardly what I call a piranha but probably his cousin, still...

I thought I was dreaming until I saw it whilst I was shopping at the mall yesterday. It's a trade stand in the middle of the mall like all those others you find trying to sell you phone covers, sunglasses, dead sea salts or some other smelly oil, lotion, etc. you don't need.

Don't believe me yet?

See it for yourself,http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-2050342/Fish-pedicures-foot-spas-spread-HIV-hepatitis-C.html

Ewwwwww...

Planes, trains and automobiles

Attempting to make it to Slough during rush hour morning traffic for an important meeting is an adventure on it's own. First, I get lost in the train station. Then, I hop on the wrong train going to London. I get lucky enough to jump off at Maidenhead with enough time to catch the next train to Slough (which I refer to as the armpit of England) to make it to my meeting promptly. Upon arriving at the train station, I hail a taxi with a foreign driver (just like in New York City- wonders about some secret taxi service conspiracy). Can't complain I did make it to my meeting intact and with 30 minutes to spare! Tune in next time when I finally figure out how public transport works...

English electrical outlets

Today's new lesson is one on beauty. I refrained from bringing my own hot curling iron along because I knew the electrical cord would short circuit because English circuits run on 220 volts whilst American runs on 110 volts, not to mention that the outlets themselves are very foreign.

But I did feel the need to curl my hair today, which is a REAL project because of just how much sits upon my head. :) I borrowed my friend's (English) curling iron today. I learned that irons run on gas so basically it's like a lighter (one of those long ones). You push the ignition button and turn on the curling iron and gas lights the inside of the iron which makes the iron hot and you use the curling iron like normal. It's rather clever. The bizzare-ness of this episode was when I curled my hair close to the scalp and I could here the gas hiss. Well at least I didn't blow up the curling iron and my pretty little head is still attached. :) :) :)

Blind leading the blinder

Every day is a new adventure. Today's enterprise begins with a stroll through marshy fields, damp, wet and slippery forest trails. Which then open up into more soaking wet fields and my tennis shoes are suffering from the autumn cold. This trip is a surprise--> where again are we going??? Stopping for a bit of scenery in the small village of Sulham, I think my acquaintance has just about had all he can take of "Miss Susie Sunshine", but no.

We change course from fields (thank goodness, because he has just dragged me through a pasture of cows after telling me a man was trudge upon by those very cows in this VERY field. Excellent!) to a busy road. I'm now calling this the Road of Death. Best described as a lane, English roads are very narrow; barely what I call two lanes. Now imagine a car passing you at 40 mph when the vehicle has to move over toward you because a bigger truck is coming down the other lane. Sheesh! Lanes of Death they are. I'm most certain I willna ever drive in this country. After much praying I don't yet die like a bug mushed on the windshield of passing cars, we arrive in Pangbourne. This be the tiny little village in which we stop at a chip shop then have a  look at some English cheese in another shop. Did I mention the angry cows on this journey yet??!?!? *sigh*

Part 2 of this mystery day, boarding a train to where??? Oxford. I found out only because the train was 30 minutes late and I had to look around to entertain myself somehow while waiting. 30 minutes later.............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................ah, here comes the train (LOVE public transport). Board towards Oxford (take a short nap after this excursion and survival of the cows-of-wrath). Did I mention at this point in the story, it's now four o'clock and I'm starving because all I've had were tea and cakes since this morning? Grrrrr.....So we feed Vawn before she gets any less pleasant (which I know is hard for y'all to comprehend..haha).

Oxford at last! All and all the train ride through the country side was a very beautiful one (even if I was starved and forced to walk 5 miles in mud- Miss Susie Sunshine again). We ate at a pub called The Crown. Nice place, lots of college kids. Well then, Oxford is known for being the best University's in the world. This town makes me miss State College and my own university days. I did get to see Christ Church and part of the  university before dark. There is plenty of architecture to see in Oxford. I walked through old cobble stone streets and past movie sets where they have done a taping of Indiana Jones 4 where Indy and Mutt ride a motorcycle through the green lawn.

Next we go to prison. Aha! Okay, okay, it WAS a prison back in the day. Today it's been remodelled into a hotel and bar. Nicely done I might add. I confess I had to sneak a peak at the guest rooms. All the doors and windows are still covered in bars and what once was a cell is now a fancy room for guests to rest their heads upon and catch a few winks. Back to the bar then out into the night. College kids are bustling up and down the streets and it's a busy Friday night. I am now dragged to a cake shop for hot cocoa (which I'm sure will blend well with the Singapore slings, I've sucked down). Then this auld lady hops and train and heads back home for bed. PS. More fun at the train station includes getting lost, getting on the wrong train and sneaking out of the train station. What??!?! Don't blame me. I was just along for the ride...

Red Hot Chili Peppers

Okay I bet your thinking of the music band, right? Well sorry to disappoint, I've got no news on the actual band. No. Just a thought for tonight on the actual vegetable chili peppers themselves. I've attempted to dice a few into a recipe for tonight's dinner. Only to suffer for the rest of the evening. Be forewarned, if using red chili peppers in a dish, be careful cutting them. My poor little finger tips are still on fire. Short of pouring bleach over my hands, I've tried everything else I could manage to rid myself of the residual hot peppers. Not to mention, that my lips are still on fire as well. But the dish itself was a success!

Til next time...

British humor

Let me begin by saying that I find most British humor very dry. But I'm afraid I've been sucked into this new British comedy (thanks to Daniel) called Miranda.

Here's a clip where Miranda battles with an automated telephone service. I find her style and comedy brilliant!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98SFgAp4ucg&feature=relmfu

Too funny!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8rqEAX77BOI&feature=related

Valentine's Day... hilarious!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&v=lBn9_vIckho

Visit with the Queen

After a bus ride and two or three trains (I can't remember exactly how many); I arrive in Windsor. Touring Windsor Castle which is home to Queen Elizabeth II. No I didn't sit down and have tea with the Queen (maybe next time) but I did learn some things whilst I was there. Firstly, the castle had caught fire and was severely burned in the 1990s. Obviously now rebuilt and open to the public for touring. The castle was built after the Norman invasion by William the conqueror. I could bore you to death with more details but instead I would just recommend seeing it for yourself if you're ever in England.

The castle is composed of many buildings. The upper ward (which houses the state rooms and the Queen's doll house- a must see), middle ward ( houses the round tower)  and lower ward (where you find the magnificent St. George's Chapel). Unfortunately no photography permitted in those areas. But atlas don't forget the gardens and moats; a sight to see as well.

Changing of the guards. Are they allowed to smile? No. Not blink, not move except to march in place. You will see this on even days at Windsor Castle and on odd days in London at Buckingham Palace. Buckingham Palace was opened to the public on certain days in order to pay for the restoration of Windsor Castle since the devastating fire.

Stay and have dinner in Windsor.  Visit the Thames River and gander on the geese (haha, I like that pun). The town itself has some pretty cool history to it and great places to eat. There are some neat little side walk cafes for dining. My favorite little pub is a Wetherspoons just below the castle. But for the less adventurous there is a McDonalds as well ;-)

Til next time ~

The Queen gets mooned

Hello all,

Time to bore you all with yet another dull tale of things Vawn is learning whilst in her "homeland". Today I fancied a trip to the grocery store in order to purchase ingredients necessary to bake pumpkin roll. (since a few of my American friends have made me jealous by making one said dessert and teasing. I won't name any names. Don't worry Brianne or Matt, I won't tell them all it was you two)...

Anyone who knows me, knows that I loathe shopping. ALL sorts of shopping, but I find shopping for groceries the most vile of all shopping. So off I go to find American ingredients in a foreign store. After what seemed be an eternity of wandering about the market, I give up on pumpkin, powdered sugar and baking soda and take the long defeated walk back to the house. An idea then sparks in my head. What a moron I have been. This grocery store allows you to shop from your home online and then delivers your groceries to your door. DOH!  Why did I not think of this sooner? (Don't answer that.)

Apparently, pumpkin is not common here in England. So I never did find canned pumpkin (or as they say here, pumpkin in a tin). This idea is quite odd to the English as is baking soda. After stomping through several grocery stores (stomping refers to the way in which my friend is tagging along with me- he's thrilled to chase around baking ingredients I'm sure ** sarcasm at it's best) I located cream of tar tar and bicarbonate soda (blending the two should create baking soda...we shall see). The little old lady in the baking aisle wasn't sure what to tell me but wished me luck as I asked her what the equivalency of baking soda was to the English. Then left looking at me like I had grown a third head. I really do LOVE the English, honestly.

Oh, and I might mention this other tool they use to shop here. It's kinda like the honour system. At the front of the store you pick up a hand held scanner and scan all the items you put into your basket, buggy, shopping cart, trolley ...what ever the devil you call it; and then at the check out counter, you pay for the items on this scanner thingy. I should try it one day although, I find it much easier to just pre-order and have my groceries shipped to the door. WHAT?!?! Don't look at me like that, you do know that I send my laundry out as well...


In other news day...the Queen was mooned by a man while visiting Australia. Perhaps he was just giving her a welcome "down under" style?

PS. I never did find canned pumpkin, BUT did luck out being this time of the year, the stores are selling pumpkins to children for Halloween, so I made my mate cart two of these home and then mutilate it into mash. :P

Can a UK princess one day be a Queen

Controversy over whether or not they will pass a law for princesses to one day (succeed their brothers and) become Queen.

http://uk.news.yahoo.com/law-change-let-princesses-become-queens-201512683.html

Who are we kidding??

On a lighter note, today was a lovely day for spending out in the garden. (Note: garden is what the English call a backyard).
Especially if you are hanging your laundry out to dry. Otherwise, one uses a tumbler aka dryer which is stored outside in the garage (pronounced like carriage but with a "g") or if you are from good ol' PeeeA then pronounced "Grotch!" I don't make this stuff up, really. The bins (garbage cans) are stored outside, the washing machine is in the kitchen near the sinks and dishwashers. Heaven forbid I have a real terrible day and switch my clothes for the dishes! And why oh why, does all laundry soap have to smell like fruit? blueberry & lilac, orange flower & papaya, tropical burst, etc.

Och! Well that's enough from me today. Cheers!

Dancing in the street

Off to do some shopping in Reading town square. Learned that the current exchange rate (to be blunt) SUCKS.  Today on the cobble stone Square were some male dancers. Mind you, shirtless and verra well built. YUM! but sadly doing disco to "YMCA". Although, I thought it wouldn't hurt to have a look. *grins mischievously*

Moving on. Whilst still adapting to the "foreign" policies, I've learned some new slang. I'll pass it along in case you've need of it visiting England or that I might use this later in my posts:

posh- great, chic. As in: The hotel we went to was posh.
bandaids - plasters
potato chips - crisps (if they get old or go bad...I wonder if they call them "stales" then?)

There's your thought for the day :)

Baking in the UK

Today's adventure is in baking. Today is my mate's birthday. I am going to attempt my first cake in the UK. Firstly, I've decided to get a Betty crocker premix (no sense in REALLY trying my baking skillz). Baby steps.....

So off I go in the morning down the lane. It's about a 20 minute stroll to the grocery store and England is great for walking. I pass a little cottage through a small forest and green pastures with horses roaming about. No cares in the world for these beasts (and the little cottage along the way has a black fence with a sign that actually reads "THE LITTLE COTTAGE". No lies). Ahhhh...fresh air (well there are horses about, so y'all know what kind of "fresh air" I'm selling here) but none the less, it's a beautiful day for meandering. A bicyclist whizzes by me and I'm still a bit taken aback by the queerness of road traffic. It's all so backwards to me; driving in the left lane. HA! (Let's leave off the roundabouts for another time shall we?)

Into the grocery store I go, pick up a few items for the cake and return home via (which I pronounce "VEEAH" and the Brits look at me funny and reply "VIIIIAH", so strange) the same small lane with horses cantering by. 

*Aside note: they don't keep their eggs refrigerated over here. They are neither sold in coolers nor stored in the fridge* 

So the baking attempt: I'm using a foreign oven with symbols instead of numbers. A picture of what appears to be a flame, a flame with a fan? and something that looks like waves above the flame. Here goes, I hope I don't burn the place down :/ I'm baking with ingredients in odd (metric)  measurements and temperature converted into degrees Celsius. YIKES! After eight minutes or maybe more...(i prefer to not to tell you exactly HOW long it took me to figure out how to light an English oven- for fear you might expect I'm a idiot) I've got it set to 180 degree C. Imagine my surprise when 23 minutes later the cakes are nice and fluffy. Wahoo! I'll count this one a success. I'd gloat more but the cake is now cooled and I've got frosting to do. 

(Just incase you think I make this stuff up, here's the cake box....)

Cheers!

and Wa Lah!

Tea Time

Day 7 of the European adventure....


I've drunk so much tea, I believe I'll look like a tea bag soon! 


Reads in the paper today, a nomad vessel from 1,000 AD. found off Scotland shore. Pretty excited archaeological find! Go Vikings!

Arriving in the UK FINALLY!

Hallo! 

 I am writing to let you know of my arrival in the United Kingdom. The trip was rather uneventful except for when the plane landed in London. The captain told us all to remain in our seats at the gate. The Police boarded wearing kelvar vests and went about the plane looking for someone. I won't lie, I was sweating bullets thinking about how I hadn't completed my landing card yet. But really? I'm sure I wouldn't get deported for not having filled out my customs form yet. The police did find their man and escorted him off the plane and we were all free to deplane as well. Having not slept much, I was pretty much a walking zombie by this time and had to move through customs hoping they let me stay longer with my american passport, having not yet received my british passport. The border agency is again confused when i give them my American passport because it reads United Kingdom as birthplace. Cheers! Let's clarify that lil' detail so I can be on my way then, shall we? Love the Brits. I do! Bless Andrew he is awaiting to pick me up and my 3 piece luggage and even got me cell phone to use here in the UK. So the number if you need, is posted on Facebook. 

Our first stop was for a genuine English breakfast, with tomatoes, mushrooms (Da you would've appreciated this), sausage, bacon, baked beans, eggs and hashbrowns. (PS. they don't serve OJ here..boo). Barely standing up straight, I sit down for this meal and realize I'm not even all that hungry because the flight crew woke us up at 1 am to serve us muffins and tea. (After having served us dinner at 9 pm- who's hungry now???). Appetite suppressed, we go walking about the town of Reading so Andrew can show me around. (I haven't yet checked into the house I'm staying so am still lugging around my bags). Any one know of a great massage therapist nearby? Run into a few chaps of his and I'm about spent. I've been up at this point for 26 hours??!?!?! Wandering around town without my sunglasses, because I'm in England now- who needs those? Apparently it super sunny outside. 

To the pub...for beer? Ha! If I have a brew at this point in my life I'll be on the floor drooling- so Tea it is then. Tea time anyway. apparently this can mean Happy hour as well I've learned. Finally to the house, drop off luggage, shower, beginning to feel a bit more like a human. I will say this for England, it's been warm and sunny the past two days and making it verra difficult for me to be depressed. Ha! 

I've had my first taste of fish and chips and TAS-TEE! Tonight I'm going to attempt a family pot pie recipe with english measuring cups. haha.  I've pretty much been trying to catch up on my jet lag now. Just about settled in. More later. I'm off! Ta ta!

PS. can you convert cups to liters?? Wish me luck! 

~V