Mark’s Notes On The Go

I’ve been back in the states for over a week now.  There are days it feels like I never left in the first place.   There are always a little bit of the blues whena trip ends.  That’s how you know I had a good time.

There’s not much to say about the trip back other than I completely wrenched some muscles in my back.  I have no idea what my bag weighed going out, but I looked a the weight at the check-in at Gatwick airport and when I converted from kg to lbs, it was around 43lbs!  I believe a small child stowed away in my bag somewhere.  With compliments to my pack, when it was on my back I didn’t feel it, but everytime I hefted it up there, I did.  It felt heavier to me and I still don’t know how.  I swear I did NOT bring much back beyond the odd fridge magnet and assorted very trivial and tiny souvenirs.  I brought back freaking carved rocks from Mexico that didn’t weigh me down as much.  I’m sticking to the story that a small child (or midget) made their way to the states unbenowest to me. It took nearly the week since for my back to sort itself.

Oh, I was frisked more than once and had my carry on luggage searched at Gatwick.  I have never gotten through Gatwick without being singled out for a frisking.  On the happy column (not the frisking), the plane had a lot of empty seats.  Bad for Delta, great for me.  The row of 5 seats I was on had three people.  I got to stretch out and read and read (9 hours of reading with maybe a half hour nap).

Anyway, quite settled back in here and I’ve had just a little time to edit some photos. This trip’s gallery is here:  England September 2008 Travel Photos

A few of my favs so far:

London Underground Sign and Big Ben

Churchill Statue And Big Ben

Stonehenge Beneath Moody Sky

Fyi - all of the above are available as prints.

Last update for the moment is that this weekend I’ll be in Montezuma for the annual Beaver Creek Festival.  I’ll have a vendor booth again this year but did not have time to enter the art contest.  The vendor booth was a lot of fun last year.  I’d been to the festival many years before and you run into a few people,but if you sit in one spot the whole day, it feels like you see everyone you’ve known.  Hope to see some of you there!

I’m also participating in the Oakhurst Arts & Music Festival on October 11th.  The Atlanta Photography Group is sponsoring a tent and I am taking part and will have work available there. Looking forward to attending!

That was my time in the UK whizzing past at a bit over the speed of sound.  I fly back in the morning.  I should rightly be in bed already.  I for some reason thought I had a flight back around 1pm but checked the print out when I got back in tonight and realized it’s 11am.  I don’t know what I was thinking, but hey, this is why I printed it out and checked.  All’s well.  I’m sure I can get up at a reasonable hour and make it.  I just won’t sleep a lot before!

Yesterday was day 1 with the arch supports and what a blessed difference it was.  My little arches felt massively better.  They still need a rest but that too shall come.  Every trip to London, I’ve taken several tours from a group called London Walks - in my opinion, the best walking tours of the city.  I’ve done a ton of them and have not nearly done them all.  This trip, I had not set foot on one.  Not sure what’s happening there!  Yesterday I saw they had an “explorer” tour - essentially a day out from the city with an afternoon and morning tour and they handle getting you there and back.  I’d done one to Leeds Castle and Canterbury a few years ago.  This one was to St. Albans, a wee city about 20 minutes by rail from London.  It was advertised as being quaint having started as a Roman Fort and having existed in one form or another every since.  It was dirt cheap as tours go, so I can’t complain.  The city didn’t quite fit my image of a quaint little place frozen in time as described but was sort of cool in that we saw a place where everyday folks live.  It’s sort of a bedroom community for the greater city.  It’s also the site of an ancient shrine to st. Alban.  He was a roman who was converted to Christianity and martyred for it.  I had never heard his name before as far as I can recall.  The interesting thing was that the tour guide’s accent sounded just like a lady back home who was an English war bride.  I should have asked but never got around to it.  It was uncanny familiar and took me a bit to place.  I kept thinking I’d heard it on TV somewhere.

Got back into the city and took the tube all the way to Aldgate, essentially now in the city’s business district and fair dead on a Sunday, but I have wanted for the longest time to get some photos of the “Gherkin” as it’s known - it’s this massive mod building in the heart of London - visible from the Thames near Tower Bridge.  I think it looks more like an elongated egg than a pickle, but it’s green colored glass earns its nickname.   I did get some photos.  The light wasn’t so great, so we’ll see what I got out of the expedition.  I was not surprised to encounter many other tourists at every vantage point trying their luck as well.

Afterwards, a quick meal and galloped off to bed.  I had high hopes of another early start today.  Today’s explorer day was to Cambridge.  I had almost written it off but several people on the St. Albans tour said it was a must.  And I noted it was being lead by the same guide from Canterbury in 2005.  So, I figured I could well rest on the plane ride back. 

I was off the tube at Kings Cross train station well before 9am this morning.  I had a quick breakfast and waited for the guide to show up.  Kings Cross could not be a much more busy place to try to meet a group.  I had almost decided that I was at the wrong place, though it didn’t seem possible.  The landmark is a luggage cart half through a wall with the sign 9 3/4 over it (the track # from the Harry Potter films (the scene with the cart in the wall I actually recall).  I got to watch SO MANY peple throw their bags in and get photos of themselves.  A large group of young asians must have been there for 20 minutes.  I even got roped into helping them with their photos.  But it was fun to watch. 

The group finally formed and we were off to Cambridge.  It’s a fascinating little city.  I think as much as anything it was interesting to hear how the English college/university system formed and how different it is in structure than our typical system in the states.  Tons of gorgeous old buildings but all kind of piled upon one another such that I would have had to have spent a lot more time than I had hunting out good angles.  We toured in the morning, had a quick lunch and then continued in the afternoon.  At the end a portion of us spent our free time punting (boating) down the Cam to our final meeting point as a group before going back to the train station.  The weather was kind of drab (overcast) by the time it came time to punt, but who knows when one will ever be in Cambridge again with the opportunity to lay back in a boat.  The guy providing the power to the pole (the actual act of punting) was a college student at St. Johns College and told us a lot about the things we saw along the riverside.   And he did much better at guiding the boat than some of the folks around us who just tried it on their own!  One group was doing what I would have, basically just propelling themselves into each opposite bank over and over!  Funny to watch, probably frustrating to do!

Trips end, we all piled back onto the train to London.  Chit-chatted about where we were all from (a mix of locals, Aussies, Germans, and several Americans aside from myself - all from out west).   Back at Kings Cross we quickly bid farewell.  There were some with shows tonight, and myself I wanted to get back here to pick up my gorilla pod and tripod head and try to get some dusk shots of SOMETHING before I went back.  I dragged that thing from the states for heavens sake and had yet to find time to use it. It’s been past dusk every night I thought of it.  I got here, and dashed back to the train.  I started looking at the clock and realized that I was not going to make it to either Tower Bridge nor St. Paul’s Cathedral in time.  I had to adjust my plans and instead got off at Westminster so I could see Big Ben and Parliament at dusk.  I think those shots came out pretty well.  I was one of MANY on the bridge taking photos.  Tons had full on tripods with them.  Either locals or far more dedicated travelers than I am.  I may yet break down and find a tripod that is both sturdy and not only light but compact enough.  But I’m not yet convinced I need it.  I generally only take night shots when I’ve been somewhere enough to know what to expect about where the light will set, etc.  Parliament qualified, as do several places in London now, as I’m on trip 4 to this city…  Scary, eh? 

Anyway, a bit of a wander there after and then a train to Picadilly Circus one more time.  Quick meal and some hand held quick night shots of the lights there (A LOT of light - London’s time’s square).  And finally back here.  I just finished arranging my bags.  Everything packed except what I’m wearing now, tonight, or in the morning. 

Everytime I come here, there are tons of mixed emotions at the end.  There’s definitely a side of me that will be so happ to snuggle into my own bed tomorrow evening, a side that will be happy to see familiar places and definitely a side that will be glad to be able to actually rest.  But it’s conflicted with a side that would happily remain here, not per se just London but here being the road, meeting new people, hearing new words and accents and voices.  London is so fantastic in part because it’s a microcosm of people and places.  The history, the native cuture and the imported culture will always hold a little sway over me, but it also feeds the wanderlust. 

Not sure where is next, but if tradition holds there’s a trip at year’s end.  Maybe Paris since I missed out.  Or maybe somewhere warm again.  Egypt, although cooler than I may have expected, was an awesome change.  And I’m well amazed how quickly I’ve adapted to the temps here.  I brought my hoodie with me, which has half the time been either left behind or tied around my waist.  I’ve dreaded every time I had to wear one of the two long sleeved shirts I brought!  I even though of wearing my one pair of shorts I brought along hopefully but finally decided to save them for the flight home.  I may roast at the Atlanta airport otherwise!  My body is not going to be prepared anymore.

Ah well, pictures to come at some point after I’ve had a slight relax - take care!

I lazed about a bit this  morning.  Because my two nights here were unintentional and there was, in fact, only one spare bed tonight, I have to change rooms the first two mornings.  If I hung out until 10am I could go ahead and change rooms rather than dumping my bag in storage.  As I had nothing better planned, I went with that. 

Once I was finally moving, I headed over to Earls Court, the exhibition center there has a Doctor Who Exhibit that was mad fun.  Aside from trips to Forbidden planet (the huge cult tv and comic book shop here), I’ve never done anything really geeky here.  I’m in shock to say that I’ve already visited Forbidden Planet this trip and got nothing for myself.  Truly shocking.  I just didn’t see anything worth the money and the dwindling space in my home.  Anyway, the Doctor Who exihibit was mainly geared towards the new show, of course, but included some highlights of the past Doctors.  It was truly cheesey fun getting to see so many props, stand in front of a blue screen and see yourself standing in the Tardis control room, and just in general see so many people geeking out over the same thing.  I guess this was my less crowded fanboy convention this year.  Afterwards, I wandered through the gift shop, literally over-flowing with all manner of Doctor Who stuff from classic to now.  I was tempted by a few items but talked myself out of them.  The only thing I really wanted was some sort of souvenir that actually showed I had been, but they only had t-shirts… no thanks…  I’ll just hang on to the ticket in my box of junk from my travels.

After a quick lunch (sort of brunch as I hadn’t had breakfast and it was cruising towards 1pm).  I decided that the afternoon was to go check out the Tate Modern art gallery, which has been on my list of things to do for several trips.  I overshot my tube choice just a smidge and wandered along the Thames path to the bridge at St. Paul’s.  Very proud that I was able to over directions to three people while I was on my way.  Oh, and I was able to point out Monument (the monument to the great fire of 1666).  I regret that it’s completely covered in tarps and scaffolding while being refurbished.  I overheard a son and his father looking for it standing literally 10 feet from it.  Their disappointment was palpable, and yet again I will not be climbing it.  Oh well.

Tate Modern was interesting.  i think most of my excitement was for the building, an old industrial power plant on the south bank of the Thames that was re-born as an art gallery.  I think it has been so far down my list for so long because I have mixed feelings about modern art.  It’s not that I don’t consider it art, it’s that often I don’t really see what others see in it.  While the museum is free, there are paid exhibits.  I ended up paying to see one by an artist called Cy Twombly, an American artist who did most of his work living in Italy.  This was a slight mistake.  I had seen him listed in the guide I got, but the adjacent description was actually for an exhibit on contemporary urban photography that had ended a couple of weeks ago.  I realized my mistake after I walked into the first room and re-checked the brochure.  This was modern art at it’s modernist…  undulating crayon lines, blobs of paint, and I could not  help the feeling that I was looking at one of those posters from a decade ago where you had to squint to see an image in the picture.  I read the descriptions in the guide and saw nothing that was supposed to be there.  I squinted.  I turned sideways, I looked at an angle, and all I ever saw looked like squibbles and lines.  He had a few sculptures and some later modern stuff that didn’t leave me wholly unhappy but by and large, I’ll consider that admission my donation to the arts…

From there, I wandered through a ton of art.  I’m not familiar with most of the artists.  I want credit for stopping at a couple of Picassos, at least they caught my eye.  There were also some very cool sculptures and even a smattering of photography along the way.  All told, I spent around 3 hours, getting in my quotient of the arts before my feet told me enough was enough.  I had blisters days ago that have finally healed, but now have managed to kill my arches.  I don’t know what I was thinking when I didn’t pick up the arch supports that were lying in my closet.  I know I have issues with them, so I should have.  And I’ve paid the price.  When I finally found a pair, they were the equivalent of nearly $40…  I felt a wave of wallet-robbing-nausea wash over me as I paid for them.  An expensive lesson. 

I meandered a bit more before finally wandering into Leicester Square hunting for a meal.  I found a Mexican Restaurant.  This is my second attempt at Mexican this trip.  The first was in Bath.  While it was a fine meal, it did not compare to home and wasn’t even served remotely in the same manner.  An enchilada that included the rice within it and was mammoth and was served with a salad!?  Of course, tonight was Saturday night, so the place was packed.  I was given a pager and told it was a 20 minute wait.  I wandered into the bar to wait… no seats… I stood for a few minutes.  My feet already felt better but not like standing, no sir.  Finally I notice this seat behind this black lady and went and asked if it was taken.  She wasn’t sure, but the seat beside her, which I assumed was taken, was not.  As I sat down, the couple across from me gave a look that combined sympathy with relief.  She turned out to be a talker, and I don’t  just mean a little conversation, I mean I feel like I know her life’s story now, at least the bits I could understand through the heavy Jamaican accent.  She apparently was going to see a movie, but needed a drink first or it would be “garbage.”  I sincerely hope that means she was meeting friends, otherwise it’s expensive garbage!  She had a brain tumor removed at some point in the past -she showed me the scar.  She told the doctor his other 9 patients with the same surgery would die, because it was their time, but not hers.  She lived because she “had a strength of purpose.”  I wasn’t really sure what she meant by that but at least followed her comment that it wasn’t science that saved her, it simply wasn’t her time yet.  She’s 67 and expects to live to be 105, because she knows that’s her time.  Really, there’s more to be told, but that should be enough for you to get an idea.  She was harmless and interesting, but I was still quite happy when the pager went off to get my table.

My table was, of course as close to the kitchen door as possible.  This is what happens to you when you dare defy society and eat at a sit down restaurant alone.  It doesn’t always happen, but it doesn’t surprise me either.  The meal was okay.  Closer but still not quite the Mexican I’m used to.  A touch bland, but almost all the parts were there this time.  Only missing the refried beans.  I’ll survive. 

Afterwards, I contemplated seeing a movie, sounded great since my tired feet could stit still.  I checked the prices… uhm… wow… they pay more for a movie in pounds than we pay in dollars.  I know that Leicester square is kind of a hub, so maybe at other theaters it’s not so bad, but it cost £13.50 to see a movie at nights or on weekend!  That would be around $26…  I could not justify that cost so just wandered a bit before hopping the train back to the hostel. 

No idea what’s on for tomorrow.  But my feet would appreciate a somewhat early to bed night.  Hopefully I’m not in a room of folks who are already out for the count.  Last night, two of the 4 total in the room had already called it a night at 10pm last night!  So, I ended up getting organized in the dark!  I was surprised as I’m usually one of the comparative early to bed folks.  And if I’m asleep when the others roll in, they have to be remarkably loud to bother me.  Oh well, wish me luck!

I have no idea where to begin.  I really haven’t properly logged my experience in Cornwall, and I don’t have my notes with me and I’m bushed.  For the moment, we’ll leave it at incredible.  Newquay was a gorgeous piece of earth, as was all of Cornwall.  It was the quintesential English experience, even if the Cornish don’t consider themselves English.  Rolling hills, tiny country lanes, dotted with centuries old homes, and one charming hamlet after the next.  We spent our last night in the city of Bath.  Bath is an incredibly walkable little city.  Very upscale, which I wasn’t expecting having read nothing about the city that owes its name to the ancient springs the Romans built their spa on.  It was apparently a special place even to the ancient Britons before the Romans came.  And it’s another place I could definitely wander again.  I did the highlights, Bath Abbey and the ruins of the Roman baths and wandered a lot of the Georgian town, but we rolled in about 5pm and left at noon the next day, that’s definitely a taste.

More than I expected to share, but it’s a bit of a catch up to yesterday, when we slipped back into London.  Amazingly little traffic, but made up for by a brief scare when the bus driver pulled off because the steering went out briefly.  It mysteriously started working again and they were told to bring it on in and it would be checked today.  I think this was a portent of things to come for me.

A few of us walked to Victoria train station together and said our final farewells.  They announced something about the Eurostar service being cancelled.  I didn’t think much of it because I was leaving from St. Pancras, not Victoria Station.  I got to Kings Cross / St. Pancras and arriving there heard more about the Eurostar service being down but little details.  I didn’t stick around, I wanted to put my bag down first.  I walked to my hotel for the night and noticed that every hotel I passed, including mine, had signs that there were no vacancies.  I got in and checked in and the desk clerk said that all the rooms were booked because no one was leaving St Pancras for Europe.  He said I was lucky I had a room as there were none to be found remotely near Kings Cross that night.  He didn’t know much more other than there was a fire at 2pm local time.

I went upstairs and watched the news.   The Channel Tunnel takes cars and trucks as well as passenger rail, but everything that goes through the tunnel is on a train.  A commercial train had a truck it was carrying catch fire and soon out of control.  No one killed, and no passenger trains in the tunnel at the time.  So some good news.  This happened before in 1996 and the tunnel was partially closed for 6 mos for repairs.  I didn’t have a good feeling as they said the fire was under control but still burning and this was like 7pm…

I went over to the station and managed to find someone to talk to.  I was told to watch the news and if they didn’t cancel service the next day to return at 4:30am (when they opened) to be assured of confirming my seat and not losing it.  I had dinner and wandered awhile before returning to the hotel.  The news that night was still the same, service cancelled, fire still burning…  I went to sleep and set an alarm.  When I got up in the morning, the fire was still going.  No point walking to the station.  I still need to get my refund since I obviously can’t reschedule this trip in the next 60 days.

I went back to sleep and slept as late as I could before leaving.  I came to the Ace Hotel, the hostel I was staying in here after getting back from Paris.  I was dead lucky, as they had one bed available tomorrow night.  I have to move tomorrow morning and again the next morning to the bed I originally booked.  Not fun but at least I have a place to sleep.

All in all, I put this in the lucky category.  Lucky no one was hurt, lucky I wasn’t in Paris already when this happened and having to try to arrange another way back to the US next week.  They may start limited service to Paris this weekend but gosh knows if I could get on that if I was over there.  I am lucky I wasn’t one of the people who had important things to get to Europe for this weekend (marriage, school, and a pile of others listed in the paper).  Thousands of peoples lives disrupted, I can handle a vacation going a bit awry.  On that same note, this morning when I watched the news, I soon found the tunnel fire was the second headline.  A major travel agency went bankrupt this morning.  Around 50k people are apparently stranded away from home with no immediate way to get back.  The government is sorting that one out.  There are also tons more who have yet to leave on vacations that no longer exist.

A very strange end of the week to say the least, but I’m here and I’ll make the best of it.  Today was just a long wander with the camera.  A nicy sunny day with some excellent cloudy but magnificent skies.  No idea what I’m going to do tomorrow.  My feet are telling me to chill.  We’ll see if I listen to them (or what they say in the morning).  I didn’t have plans for what to do with  myself when I got back to London to begin with, now I have more time than originally!  Oh well, it’s a city with an impressive number of options.

One day I’ll look back on all this with a smile.  I’m already able to see the silver lining, that’s a start.

Arrived back I’m London late afternoon to a bit of an issue. There was a fire in the tunnel under the English channel. All service today cancelled. A descision on tomorrow to be made overnight.

I’m at the train station now to sortout what I can. Very lucky to have booked a room in advance. Thousands affected. No rooms to be had in king’s cross area.

If no eurostar in the morning, then no Paris for me and I’ll have to sort a place to stay.