Edinburgh

I thought I would like Scotland, and I haven't been disappointed. We took a long train, eight hours, from Wales and passed through the Lake District which was as nice as I had imagine, maybe nicer. Eight hours by train is much less tiring than eight hours by car, despite the one stressful scramble when we had to switch trains. I can't post much now, but to quickly summarize we have visited Edinburgh Castle which dominates the skyline of the city, and then spent a day on a bus tour through the Highlands. Both were special. Our touring company was Haggis Adventures, with a bright yellow bus with large words "wild" and "sexy" on the side. Our guide was a young, brash Scot who sprinkled his many comments with swears, saying it was the Scottish way, his good given right to say things as he sees them. More on these trips later.
Several students have had colds, and now it grips me. It's impacts my energy, but I plug along. Fortunately, I am in place were it's easy to do a lot of tea drinking. And tonight I took a bath in our flat. I took one student to the hospital because he feared he had a sinus infection. He was seeking antibiotics in time to go on the Highland tour. It turns out he did not have an infection, just bad lingering cold, but we were both impressed by the service and the non-payment of services. Like others who have traveled abroad, I found that universal health care is a wondrous thing.

wales part two

I didn't expect to see lacrosse in Wales. But here it is. I see a team practicing as I run along the river. However, mostly this week has been the big England vs. Sri Lanka cricket match. A number of guests at the hostel are here for the match. One elderly man, apparently of Indian descent but from Durham EN and passionate about cricket, has been quite friendly in a slightly inappropriate way. He tends repeat his stories such as returning to his bunk here at the hostel and finding a woman asleep in it. It appears that a guest had overstayed, and he made do on the couch downstairs. However, it was so comfortable, he asked the proprietor to stay there again tonight. The cricket fans stream past our hostel on their way to the stadium, mostly packs of males in costume. One group in matching sweats of team colors and each with a different garish, frightening clown wig. Many are in superhero garb, padded suits, shiny and colorful, but not of any established superhero, just someone with some sort, I guess, of superpower. One group is all in doctor's scrubs with stethoscopes. Not sure what to make of this. A few older fans, couples in sensible clothes, navy blue windbreakers and thick soled boots also pass by. The weather this morning, however, is between a mist and drizzle blowing sideways. They won't play on a wet field, so we will see what happens.

A day off is welcome because you can make your own schedule and take a break from traveling companions. I wander over to the National Museum which has both natural history types of displays and art collections. I heard their Impressionism collection is worth checking out, and I find it small but quite nice. Most is okay, but two Cezanne's and three Monet's along the same wall blow me away. I sit and let them keep washing over me. It's incomprehensible how this works.
Using sensory detail in travel writing is one thing that Lucy has emphasized. I thought of this while standing in the ancient cottages at the Museum of Welsh Folklore. The rooms held fireplaces that heated the food and the space. These were shallow fireplaces with wide flanges, and smoke hovered in these low ceiling cottages. Being a rainy, cool day some cottages had fires going. Not a bad smell, but it's not hard to imagine it becoming tiresome (and unhealthy) over time.
Despite the interest in the cricket match, Wales is suppose to be rugby mad. I had hope to see some, but it's not to be. Across from our hostel is the famous Millennium Stadium where big time rugby games are held. Despite the glowing comments in the guidebooks, I find this structure a monstrosity. Here a few pics as well as some from the pedestrian main thoroughfare in Cardiff.

country

The strains of travel remind you of what you like and dislike. That's the point - to expose yourself to new things while keeping the old comforts within sight. Certainly I prefer the countryside to the city scenes, and am claustrophobic in crowds. I hate to wait in crowded situations and museums/historical sites have clots of tourists standing in front of the view I am trying to get to. Bath has this with the Roman Baths and Stonehenge. But yesterday's tour of the Welsh coast was more relaxing to me, my favorite day of the trip so far. We went to Tenby, a small resort town, about two and half hours by train. The train passed through classic pastoral scenery, sheep dotting patchwork hillsides. Tenby is on the ocean with pastel houses in rows. (No homeless or beggers to be seen.) We took an open boat out to Caldey Island where there was a monastery and ocean views. Walking along the cliffs reminded me of Ireland with the hardy plants, the craggy rocks, the crashing surf and stoic cattle all mixed together. The seagulls floated and wheeled. It was windy and cool, but with periods of strong sun. A number of times I peel layers on and off to keep up. (No rain although the day before, and now, the day after are wet.)

It was a long day. We left at 9 and returned at 9. This group of students has been fantastic - adventurous, adaptable, agreeable. Some are best of friends (and chose this trip together), while some are not, but they are sensitive to each other and are inclusive and friendly. A situation like this can be difficult with the wrong mix of people, but with this group there is no whining, no drama. A level of familiarity grows as we are thrown together and need to coordinate ourselves. I find each likable, and appreciate getting to know them individually. It's been a week, and today is a day off, something the students have been looking forward to (Lucy and me, too). Earlier there were some grand plans anticipating this day, but now most of us what to stay close, relax, catch our breath and do laundry.

location, location, location

A deservedly slow day. We visited the Museum of Welsh Folklore which reminded me of Sturbridge Village in Mass. There were many rustic cottages from different eras and of different lifestyles from the old days. Also some craft people practicing the old ways of show making, weaving, etc. It was all well done and much of it interesting. It was blustery with spitting showers so that slowed us down a bit. We retired back to the Backpackers Hotel by early afternoon to dry off and rest. Tonight a group meal within the large pedestrian downtown area of Cardiff. Our hotel is centrally located. Here is a photo of where we are staying and a view looking out the front door. We are next to the River Taff and across from the Millennium Stadium. More on that later.

Wales part one

I love that daylight lingers until 10pm. You know how you wish for an extra hour per day; it suddenly feels like that. My evening meal is often later than from back home, sometimes seven, but more often eight or nine. (Last night, a jacket potato with beans. Don't ask, it's what it sounds like.) And the light of these long days seems special, a sunset that softens and even with the sun gone the sky remains gently lit. In fact, I can't remember now if I have seen a dark night with stars and moon while in England. Not like home at least. I assume there are moon sightings in UK. I'll keep looking.

There is a bit of fiction in travel writing, an ostensibly non-fiction account . The authors we study make generalizations (Jan Morris on the Welsh character) or employ personification (Peter Sagar on the enveloping arms of Bath). Paul Theroux simply invents names for people he observes. He's convinced these are their correct names and uses this device to assign personal qualities. I guess that what we do. We are story makers.

Yesterday, I went for a run along the river here in Cardiff. I pass by fields of football (soccer) and cricket playing. Coming toward me at a brisk trot are four soldiers in pairs carrying packs. In the lead corner appears a grizzled veteran, lean, fit and focused, and the youngsters that follow have this nervous look on their faces. After crossing the river and heading back along the other side, I pass a large field with a stream of people, mostly women in pink, marching toward a finish line. The PA announcer and hordes of supporters are exhorting them on. It appears over a thousand people are there, and the energy is palpable. As someone who has done benefit events, I find this moving and appreciate what this is about. I run faster and things feel, somehow, more like home.

Bath (Abbey): Where Heaven and Earth Meet

Travel writing, like all writing, is as much about the writer as the subject. Visiting a country such as England is deceptive because overlaps exist and values align. There are the obvious differences - centuries of preserved history - and the less overt, but still physical manifestations - narrow streets with bicyclists in high tech gear but nary a helmet. Bath's traffic intersections are as haphazard and confusing as Brattleboro's. Except to locals who zip through. We share that.
To find about attitudes, I have been looking through a sampling of English newspapers. Of course, Barak's visit is big news. It's suggested, with all the more pressing issues, that England has little to offer him except the opportunity for statesmanship and photo ops. Certainly, the shots with the royal family are getting more press than the apparently casual conversations about Libya and Afghanistan. I did note comments about how Obama's father's Kenyan colonial past would have potential influenced his perspective upon England, and the "kerfuffle" about removing the bust of Churchill from the Oval Office. I wouldn't have thought of these items except from a English perspective they make sense. The biggest headlines today appear to be on how Kate outshone Michelle. It's funny how the cost of the different dresses seems important. So, not only did Kate outfashion Michelle, but she did it in a 175 pound "frock." Meanwhile Sam Cameron shows up with designer dress of over 2000 pounds, and shoes of 4oo. I'm amused.
Today, I am repacking for our next stop - Wales. In my original packing, there was a lot of pressure to be economical but thorough. Living out of a backpack and visiting an area of variable weather required some thought. I wondered at the time which items I brought might prove more worthy than others. Now this is shaking down. I wish now that I had a better long sleeve shirt and a novel to escape to. And it appears now that two pairs of shorts are extraneous. Whatever. Part of traveling is making do. I'm sure Barak feels the same.
Goodbye Bath. I love the curved architecture.

Bath Wrap

We are wrapping up our two day stay in Bath. This area is a jumble of history - Roman Baths, Bath Abbey, Stonehenge. As our bus tour guide said at one point today, "Now let's go from prehistory to history" as we visit Lacock Village with all the houses built between 1300-1600. Despite the many types of people, one theme that seems to bind this area together is spiritualism. The things people do for religion - Bath Abbey with it's vaulted ceilings and stained glass, Roman Baths with temples and carvings, Stonehenge with stones of many tons hauled many miles and then precisely aligned. People need to find meaning, discover meaning, or simply have meaning in their lives. Perhaps this final way is the best way to describe it. There was no compartmentalizing of life and belief. And belief fueled these powerful and physical testaments. I was impressed by their efforts, but felt some absence of belief. The guides would all say "imagine what it was like 1000/2000/4000/6000 years ago." I tried imagining but mostly just pondered what strange beasts we humans are. Anyway, as Lucy has tried to impress upon the students, we need to activate our lens. Focus and discover something of these cultures and bring it back to your experience. What then do you learn from your culture? I'm not sure I have found my lens.



One thing Sara did was describe foods, so I can take a food detour for a moment. Not that this feels like a lens, but I have been disappointed with my last two pub lunches. Based on my experiences in Ireland, I had high hopes of our lunch stops. However, I guess I haven't chosen well. Fish and Chips was mushy and tasteless, and Pork Pie has stone cold and fatty. In both cases the chips were okay, but it's hard to make a meal with french fries. I had better success with dinner in a Tapas restaurant, but that's not English food exactly. These dining out experiences do allow me to reflect on my culture, however. First, in my early morning search for coffee I kept looking for people to be carrying paper coffee cups (to clue me in to where to go). But this wasn't to be. People like coffee - and tea - but not on the run. So, why do we like to have our hot beverages on the go like that? Second, was the absence of giving tips to waiters. They are paid through the bill, and service has a different approach. It's slower. You will sit forever unless you ask for the check. They don't seem to want to get you fed and out to be able to seat more customer. Again, a reflection about our expectations about service and the commercialism of the restaurant biz.

Bath part one

Up early and walking around Bath, thinking I would find myself a cup of coffee in this touristy town. It's six o'clock but few people are out, around 10 degrees C which I found translated online as 50 degrees. The occasional person seems to be scurrying to work, or out for a run in tee shirt and shorts. Lucy passes me by on her morning run. I thought to run this morning, but wanted to wake up a bit and had hoped to uncover some aspect of this town without the hordes of people around. (It was a sight yesterday as the eleven of us in a pack carrying and dragging luggage through the crowded sidewalks in the midst of downtown.) I had already gone to the Starbucks in the middle of the downtown (across from centuries old Bath Abbey) of which Lucy remarked upon earlier with some surprise (being born and raised in Bath), but nothing opens until 7am. So, I wander and take a few pictures.
One of my predecessors of this trip, Sarah, had maintained an fine blog which I went back to in preparing for this journey. I'm not the writer she is, so will have to muddle through. She does cover the food that she ate as one way to describe the "overseas" experience. I'm not sure I can do as well, but am inspired, like her, to try food that seem particular to this part of the world. This means last night at the restaurant I had shepherds pie made with lamb. It's was good, but not sure I ever have to have it again. Pretty simple in construction, but since I rarely have had lamb I am not sure I cultivated a taste for it. Anyway, after drifting through the mostly empty streets, I return to the YMCA and have their continental breakfast - corn flakes, toast, coffee, OJ. Not so unique for traveling abroad, and all pre-packaged, but gets me going. Maybe I'll go back to see if Starbucks is open, and get a "real" cup of coffee.

Getting Started

I wanted to re-activate the blog service that I had used previously for Study Abroad in Ireland. However, it has a lot of advertising for viewers. So, let's try this. It's early morning, 5:30, on our first official day. We are in Bath after an overnight flight and train travel to here. We found the YMCA which has simple but clean rooms and is centrally located. We did a bit of walking to get oriented, had a group meal and went to bed early. Visits to Bath Abbey and the Roman Baths are scheduled after some orientation to the academic parts of the course. So, it begins. I have some backlog to catch up with here, but for now this is a start. Here's a couple of photos to start: my YMCA room and the view out the window (the front of building has scaffolding).