Irony and I...

We go way back.

Oct 15 - The Long Trip Home

From the time I got in the cab in Belfast, to getting out of the cab at my apartment, it was 20 hours. I was twitchy, crampy and soaked with coffee that was dropped all over me and my copy of “Cloud Atlas” by a stewardess who seemed as tired as I was. Compared to an eight week ocean voyage in the cargo hold of a ship though, I guess I have no room for complaint. It was a wonderful vacation. Thank you to all who covered for me at work. Thank you to anyone who took the time to read all this. And thank you to Sharon, Matt and Dave, much love to you all.

Oct 12 - 14

A few more film recommendations:

The Wind that Shakes the Barley – Cillian (Doe Eyes) Murphy in a political drama about the troubles in Ireland.

Dead Man’s Shoes – a brilliant little indie flick starring Paddy Consadine and set in Matlock, next door to where I was in England.

Withnail and I – the anniversary edition. The extras are crap, but the copy of the film is so much clearer, it’s like you’re seeing it for the first time. Uncle Monte’s lapel pin is a radish! If reading that fills you with joy, get a hold of this new release. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, well… “throw yourself in to the road, darling, you haven’t got a chance!” Or, rent the film. It is awesomeness.

Dave introduced me to the first two, and to the basic rules of “football” (soccer). I’ll just wait for a minute for the scoffing to die down on the other side of the Atlantic… We also made a trip to Ireland, where we drove across a checkpointless border. Where once there were fairly hostile check-points, you can now only tell you’ve crossed into a new country by the change in the road signs to metric. Here’s hoping things continue to settle into peace.

I’d been so sad to think of leaving, but need not have worried: my flight back was canceled. Not delayed, just “there will be no flight”, and it was due to weather, so I was also told there would be no free hotel. (GAH!!) I went back to the B&B in Belfast, where I’d stayed the night before in prep for an early trip to the airport. The airline had gotten me onto the same flight the following day, so I had a day on my own to walk around Belfast and explore. I found some great views of city streets…

Queen’s University…

And the Botanic Gardens

Oct 11, 2006 - The Sun Comes Out In Ireland

Dave took me to the town where he grew up: Omagh. I’d seen the town in a film by the same name, but like nearly every movie star I’ve seen, Omagh is much prettier in person.

We then drove into the North Irish countryside, which is positively gorgeous:

And then we went to a living history park called American Folk Park – an interactive, educational min-village, with costumed docents who can tell you about life in Ireland around the time of the Potato Famine. Despite the rather grim subject, we had a great time exploring the place and the uncharacteristically gorgeous weather. I took a ton of pictures.

This was the childhood home of Thomas Mellon, who emigrated to the States and became the latter half of “Carnagie-Mellon”, which I guess needs no introduction.

The park has an old(e) world(e) side with about a dozen buildings, including the Mellon homestead, a post office, a weaver’s cottage, and a blacksmith’s forge. This was the post office and the living quarters were upstairs:

And two churches, very plain by contrast to those in the cities:

Then you walk through a Dockyard area that includes a scale replica of the sorts of ships that people spent around 8 weeks in, coming to the US. And then you’re on the American Side… and they’ve gone to great trouble to make you feel like you’re in Pennsylvania. I looked down at one point as we were walking, and the path was strewn with leaves of oak, elm, maple… It was enough to make an Ohio girl really homesick.

The American side had a log cabin homestead with corn (as high as an elephant’s eye) and a big pumpkin patch.

And an American dockside street:

10/10 or, as they note it in Europe: 10/10

Here is what 5:07am looks like:

As you can plainly see, not much to look at. Nor can I claim I was very good company, as anyone who knows me will realize this was my first glimpse of 5am in a long, long time. Matt came along, bless his heart, all the way to London Heathrow.

Cultural Difference #3: US airports are designed to make you aware of their vastness. Heathrow is a huge airport, but all I saw of it that day was Terminal One, and it seemed no larger than Burbank or Akron/Canton airports. And Belfast airport actually is tiny.

Finding Dave was easy. I'd only ever seen two blurry photos of him, yet he was immediately recognizable. He gave me the driving tour of Belfast, through clouds of variously-colored uniformed schoolchildren and pointing out political murals and which streets were dominated by which factions of The Troubles. We both rated meeting in person as about a 5 out of 10 for Weirdness, but by evening that strangeness had evaporated and we continued our uncannily long list of Things We Have In Common through the rest of a lovely visit.

Oct 5 - 9

Sharon introduced me to pork pies. This may seem like a friendly gesture, but keep in mind we don't do savoury pies in the States, so this was just tantalizing. She's a mean little person, believe it.

If you know what goes into a pork pie, I am begging you to never tell me. I do not want to know. I do want to know where I can find them in the States, however, and I can already tell you: Vons doesn't carry them. I might have to go to the King's Head in Santa Monica this weekend...

We took a day trip to Bakewell, where the famed Bakewell Tart was created. What, you haven't heard of them? Neither had I. Apparently though, they're very famous in Europe. It's a pie crust, layer of jam, and a layer of either pudding or sponge cake. Very light and nice with tea. And if you're extremely curious, you can actually go here and have one shipped to you: http://www.bakewelltartshop.co.uk/index.php. See, I don't just tantalize people, like Sharon does.

Note to Annie: on our way to Bakewell, we passed Chatsworth House (in someone else's photo, to the right). Mr D'arcy was not at home, but we didn't stop.

The English countryside is just as gorgeous as ever, though. I admit to being struck speechless again by the beauty of it.

The town of Bakewell has lots of little shops (ye olde shoppes), and I got my Christmas shopping underway there. As you can see, we had a sunny, gorgeous day for duck-feeding and shopping.


Bakewell streets:




We had dinner on the way home at The Gate, where we'd had a good meal 18 months ago. Here is a rarely seen view, out the loo window:


Enjoyed several fantastic meals during these days, courtesy of Sharon. Also was introduced to some good films: Whistle Down the Wind (1961, starring Haley Mills, about a group of kids who think a man hiding in a local barn is Jesus Christ), which is apparently now an Andrew Lloyd Weber musical?! And The Descent (2005 horror movie with some excellent scares). I'd recommend both of those, incidentally.

Noticed two cultural differences between the US and UK:
1. Women on TV in the UK have flesh. They swan blithely about, as if having non-silicone curves is totally acceptable. Even store mannequins are made to look like real women, rather than teenaged boys' basketball players. It was odd.
2. The "reality" of Reality Television is infinately more optimistic, there. Here, we watch reality tv so we can sit smugly judging people with the social skills of Ted Bundy tear their lives apart for our viewing pleasure. There... well, it was downright educational. There were game shows where people competed to be the most "Green" (ecologically friendly lifestyle) and how to make money at swap meets or in real estate. Quiz shows that are always educational were using comedians to make the show enjoyable to watch, or known geniuses... In short, it was as if it's ok to be a smart person, there. I think they're up to something.

My last day in England, Matt and I went to town and bought bus tickets (those of you who call me Cinderella will be amused to know that they call a long-distance bus a "coach", there) to London for the next day. Only after purchase did I realise that we'd be getting up at 4am to catch our ride - about 2 hours after when we'd been going to bed.

October 4, 2006: Arrival

I was packed for this trip days ahead, a task I usually procrastinate til the 11:55th hour. Could not wait to get there. I read all the restrictions on luggage, arranged for two bags I could carry easily, brought only my important docs, tucked into my copy of Cloud Atlas. Naturally, all of this prep went arwy: I arrived in England without it. And at a different terminal than the one Sharon went to, to pick me up. And SO excited was I about this trip that I didn't much care. The airline (bmi) had provided me with a toothbrush and toothpaste, and Sharon loaned me clothes and they delivered (what a lovely country!) the luggage to our door the next day.

In England, I was visiting Sharon and Matt, in Chesterfield.
The most famous thing (so far) in Chesterfield is the church steeple. I think you'll see why:



Detail, above the entryway:


Big window, seen from within:


This is the town with the 1000 year old market and the 800 year old pub. Matt and I went into the pub later in my stay, just to make sure it still works. You know, you have to use them or they fall into disrepair, so we did our bit to help out.

I snapped this while we were walking around. Note the green hills in the background. Their towns end.

Monday 2/7/05

The reality began to set in that my week in England was drawing to a close. I missed people back home, but was not ready to leave England yet, and not just because of S's cooking and M's coffees... though it was mostly the company that I knew I'd miss. Driving around singing Elvis and John Denver songs with people is a strangely bonding experience.

For my last day, M and I went back to the market and I found a cute little black sweater for 5 pounds! ($10 US!) and looked for a CD for a certain someone... and M indulged me in my favorite thing: a double-cheeseburger (for breakfast). It's possible he was mainly sharing the guilt, as he had one too, but still sweet of him to remember I like those.

Then we drove out to a gorgeous view:


and had lunch in a converted horse-barn. Each booth had formerly been a horse's stall, and there were plackards over the tables with the horse's name, so the server knew where to bring our food. I had a steak and mushroom pie and after a week of fantastic food, I have this to say about the myth of bad english cooking: "bollocks!!!" I gained 5 lbs in a damn week! The food is phenomenal, just keep to the pubs.

We then headed out to a secluded little village called Tissington. This place is off the main highways and actually has a gate to the town, so you feel like you're driving into a private estate. The lord of the manor still lives in the great house there:


and the town is famous for it's wells. Wells were a big deal before water came in little plastic bottles, I understand. There are a lot of little wells in Tissington, and they have a festival in the spring and decorate them and someone comes and blesses them. Here's one the day we were there:


and here's what they look like, decorated, which they were not, while we were there (the images are made with flower petals):


We went into the chapel at Tissington and the strangest thing happened. In every church we were in that week, I'd taken pictures of the altars. This time, I stood at about mid-aisle and took my customary shot, and when I looked at the picture, the entire picture came out black except a cross on the alter that I hadn't even noticed.

I walked up and took a close picture with the flash on, and this is what it looked like just looking at it:


And this is a detail of the black picture. That whole alcove went black, including the stained glass window of Jesus... and the glare from the flash looks like a little glowing knight's head. I didn't mess with this second picture at ALL, except to enlarge it. That was when I saw the knight's face:


What the hell?!
The same thing happened in S's picture, and I would love to know if it also looks like there's a little knight's head in her pic, too. I didn't see that til I was editing pics this morning, and I couldn't believe my eyes.


We drove back home on a very foggy night through villages and hillsides that will meld in my mind into indistinguishable archetypical villages and hillsides, that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

Sunday 2/6/05

Sunday we had a traditional, homecooked roast dinner. S. tried to keep up with the rumors about "american food portions", and we all barely survived. Here is what she made:
roast pork with brown onion gravy
Charlotte potatoes
mashed potatoes with greens (an Irish dish)
broccoli
carrots
parsnips
roasted onions
Yorkshire pudding

and a homemade apple/berry pie for dessert with freshly made custard.
And every single thing was absolutely delicious. It was one of the best meals I've ever had in my life.

The rest of the day was a great laid-back rest and we took full advantage. We watched movies and moaned about how full we were. What better way to spend a Sunday?

Saturday 2/5/05

As we walked out to get on the road to Stonehenge, this was the view from the front porch.. I am fairly certain they arranged for this:


Stonehenge was incredible... Even if it's a bit touristy, it was really cool to get to see it with my own eyes







These birds posed for us, then left, then came back and posed again:



Next stop was the prehistoric mound called Silsbury Hill (by the Salisbury Plain)... They have never found any bodies in it, so it's not a burial mound, and they can't guess what it was for, originally It's impressively large, if frustratingly mysterious...




And then we went to Avebury stone circle, which is astoundingly huge... the town is actually built among it. Imagine looking out your living room window and seeing standing stones out there... amazing.


We also had a drink in a pub with a thatched roof. In the us, we do 'quaint' for effect. In england, it comes standard. Anyway, Avebury is very scattered, has a lot of missing stones that are now replaced by markers, and there are buildings among the stones, but this is from the part of it that is fenced off:


Here's a map I found, to give you some idea of the scope of this structure. Each of the small rings in the middle is probably 30' across:


Stonehenge is all behind fences and you're not allowed to walk into it or touch it, but these other stone circles are open and you can walk right into them. They're completely amazing (I keep using that word), thinking how long they've been around and the amount of work that went into making them. It had to take something very compelling to get prehistoric people to transport stones that weigh upwards of 5 tons each, up those hills and arrange them.