Bath - England's City Of Gold

Yesterday, Amanda and I had our daytrip out to Bath, her university town of four years. Bath essentially has two faces - it is a goldmine for tourists who flock all year round to bask in the beauty of the city, and it is also a thriving university town for students at the UoBath, and the UoBath Spas. For the tourists, there is much to see and do. You can visit the Roman Bath Spas, the natural hot springs used by the Romans in ancient times, pop in at one of the tiny homegrown stores along the cobblestone streets, explore the many large parks, or spend 600 pounds a night at the Royal Crescent Hotel at the heart of the city. While these attractions draw millions, the main pull is the infamous Bath Stone, a type of golden tinted sandstone, of which all the buildings are made. There literally isn't one building that doesn't have a slab of Bath Stone in its structure, except for maybe the Sainsbury's grocery store which is made of glass. In fact, it is even against regulations to build a building unless it is made of this particular type of stone, and there is very little leeway in the kind of redesigning you can do. Thus, when the sun is in full force, the city at a glance looks like a shining undulation of gold. This was the first impression I had of Bath as we drove in at midday, and also the last, as we watched the sun splash the city with light upon disappearing under the horizon.

The first stop of the day was at a pub to meet a couple of Amanda's old work friends who had taken out their lunch hour to see us. Sitting outside on the back porch, the four of us were immediately scorched by the intense midday heat, but soon cooled ourselves down with a few drinks and some good conversation. Everything around us was so relaxed and peaceful. It is this kind of relaxed atmosphere that I love whenever I visit British pubs. I particularly like how pubs are separated into different areas - one for the rowdy drinkers, one for the families with kids, one for the fancy dinner parties, and one for the casual drinkers. It is as if pub owners understand that there as many different kinds of drinkers as there are drinks, so best to make a spot for each type. I always wonder why they don't seem to do that in Canada.

After parting with her friends, we had a lengthy look around the shops in the downtown area. Amid the handful of chainstores you'd expect in any area, there were a few interesting shops including a knicknacks shop with lots of plush cats, a candy store, an IT-store type shop with lots of funny cards but with British humour, and an awesome milkshake vendor where you can ask for ANY milkshake you please. And when I say anything, I mean anything - Mars Bars with Jammy Dodgers, Malteasers with Minstrils, Apple Pie with Bounty and Caramel Popcorn - the list goes on, and there are only four of these shops in the country! I went for the Malteasers with Minstrils since I didn't think I could handle anything as rich as, say, a Cherry Cheesecake mixed with a Cadbury's Fruit and Nut Bar, and even that was extremely filling.

Since all that shopping wore us out quite a bit, we took a turn in a couple of parks and walked past the Royal Crescent Hotel, which I mentioned before has an extremely hefty entrance price. Nevertheless, the building was quite stunning. If you can imagine the Coliseum, cut that in half to give you a crescent, and turn the ruin into row after row of golden hotel flats. That should give you a vague idea of what the hotel looked like. Amanda actually told me an interesting story about the hotel. Apparently, back in the Victorian times when the hotel was visited by many wealthy landowners, there were flocks of sheep kept on the grounds. Since the landowners didn't want the sheep running around their football and cricket grounds, they created a lowered plateau on the generally flat expanse of property in which to keep the sheep. It saved ruining the view with a gaudy fence, but kept the sheep in check. Even today, tourists can see the odd unevenness of the grounds, though sheep no longer roam there, of course.

Another story Amanda told me was of when she went on a Ghost Walk. During these midnight walks, a tour guide tells you of the various ghosts that reside in Bath. One ghost was said to have tormented a woman who decided to change the Burgundy colour of her wall to white. She tried numerous methods to rid her house of the spirit but nothing worked. It was only once she changed it back to Burgundy that the tormenting ceased. Another ghost that has supposedly been spotted many times was an old man dressed in black who either sits on the steps of his old apartment, or stands in the red phonebox by the steps. I'm not a believer in ghosts or spirits, but the stories are interesting either way. (And I admit, I did glance over my shoulder once after passing the haunted steps!)

The last stop of the day was Bath Spa, Amanda's old university, located smack dab in the middle of some of Prince Charles' personal farmland. (Whether he uses it or not, I have no idea.) Amanda had not been back since her graduation three years ago so she was surprised to see the many changes that have been made to the campus, such as the new building with a fountain, and the movement of the Student Council to a building that was completely run down when she was there. I was simply happy to be visiting another university. It made a nerd like me feel quite at home. Hehe. Since most of the residents have moved out save a few international students, most of the campus was closed up. However, we were able to sneak into Amanda's old residence and spend a few seconds in the kitchen before running out for fear of getting caught. Speaking of universities, I should have really like to have visited Oxford and Cambridge but time really did not allow for it. So, in that way, I guess Bath Spa was the perfect substitute.

Tomorrow is my last day at Amanda's house and I am going out with a bang. Well, not really, but a lot will be going on including a BBQ with Sheila, Kirsty, Mary and Andy, as well as a trip to the movies to see Cars. As my next and final stop of this trip (Aberdovey in Wales) probably won't have a computer readily available, this may well be my last post for the trip. However, I will continue writing and if luck is with me, I will find an internet cafe and post there. So until next time...Viva la Britannia!

To Blog Or Not To Blog...

I read a blog advice book in WHSmiths once, and it strictly said that 'one should never write a blog entry when one has nothing to say'. Fair enough. However, at the bottom of the same page was the phrase 'never leave your blog too long without posting because your readership will plummet'. Once again, fair enough. But fairness doesn't dismiss the backwardness of the author's message. He gives us the ultimate catch 22. To blog or not to blog, when and for what reason. Indeed, half the time when I start writing an entry these days, I find myself in an awkward position. "Should I bombard my readers with descriptive essay-like entries about my daily life (just so they know neither my blog nor I am dead in a ditch somewhere), or should I hold back and wait for something truly revolutionary to happen before I let my fingers loose on the keyboard and risk losing all readership?" It seems that the ONLY way to maintain a successful blog would be to have something exciting and interesting happen to you every other day at least, and having the skill to write about it. Being in England at the moment, it has been fairly easy to fill each post with something a little bit exotic, but how will I keep my readers once I am back in Canada? This is not a question to be answered, just a drifting notion. It is with this, I take you into another of my entries from abroad, just hoping that my timing and content has been good enough for all of you, and for the writer of that book.

The past few days, as you know, have been spent with my cousin Amanda. With both of us in the state of out-of-workedness, our days have been filled with dips in the pool and trips downtown to shop. In Amanda's case, she is waiting to start teacher's college and no one will hire her for only the month of August. And I don't feel guilty since I know that the next two years will be non-stop work, completing possibly a very stressful year abroad and returning just as the new semester starts in Canada. Today, particularly, was a lot of fun since Amanda's best friend Andy came over with his friend Ian. I made a crumble especially for the occasion being the newly domesticated woman that I am (har har), and for dinner we ordered in Chinese. No one was really sure how the dynamic of the four of us would work out, but surprisingly we all got along extremely well. The best part was when we brought out the guitars and piano, and sat down for a sing-a-long. Andy played the instruments as we sang to some of the newest British pop hits, and a few oldies like California Dreamin' and A Little Respect. We also played a game called Boy Girl where everyone writes a list of general things (boy, girl, movie, clothes, etc.) in one column, and using one letter from the alphabet, thinks of a word for each column (i.e. if R were the letter, Rodney could be used for the category 'boy'). The game really gets funny when the topics become a bit more raunchy, but I'll leave that to your imagination.

Yesterday, my cousin Mary and my aunt Sheila came over for a swim. It was lovely because Mary has finally started to warm up to me a little bit. I think there is a touch of shyness in our blood, but we had a real breakthrough when Mary showed me the piano piece she learnt from Amanda, and I, in exchange, showed her my laptop and the pictures we took that day. It was real cousin bonding! I suppose I regret having lived so far away because I have never experienced what it is like to be a role model to a younger family member. It's a great feeling when a kid hangs on your every word and strives to be like you. It's flattering, but at the same time, it takes your mind off of the selfish issues you might be dealing with because you are giving to another person. The experience has almost given Amanda and I the motherly urges (but not quite!).

Tomorrow is Bath so I am sure I will have something to say about that. After all, it appears to be the place of miracles going by my friend Steph's story about her uncle and his fiance reuniting there. I though that was so lovely. Anyway, we shall see...maybe my Romeo is waiting there for me! :P

Swimsuit Shopping Horrors

It has often been said that buying a swimsuit is the bane of a female's existence. Though I can think of a few less appealing things, like abdominal surgery or consecutively watching Big Brother and Survivor on daytime TV, finding a swimsuit that fits your body type is certainly a worthy contender. Why do I begin this way? Well, it so happens that my cousin Amanda has a swimming pool in her backyard, and I came completely unprepared with the appropriate gear. Admittedly, I am not an avid swimmer and never have been, so I wasn't really fussed about going in either way. Regardless, the past few days have been so hot that it only seemed right that I participate in the fun, so Amanda and I went out for a day on the town to find a good costume.

British Homestores was stop number one. As we ventured toward the swimsuit section, I could feel my heart palpitations speeding up in spite of myself. The last time I had tried on a swimsuit was back when I had no unmentionable bits to speak of, and suddenly I was overwhelmed by a rush of options: cup sizes and body lengths, tankinis and bikinis, one pieces or simply running out of the store screaming with nothing at all. The whole scene made me envious of men who can basically pick out trunks as if they were a pear of shorts and jump into the pool! Thankfully, Amanda is a fish out of water and knew exactly what to look for. I ended up with seven different string-like outfits in a massive change room, happily deluded that somehow one of these was going to turn me into a swimsuit calendar girl. However, when fitted on me, I was mortified to find that I didn't look a thing like the girls in the glam magazines. (Surprise, surprise!) So, without said bathing suit in hand, the two of us headed on to the next store.

On to stop number two, a small vendor in the Sutton strip mall. With my expectations significantly lowered, I was ready to try anything, even if I looked like a beach whale in rags. It was here we saw a very cute bathing suit that had everything going for it - colour, style, design...except it was meant for 14-15 year olds. Figuring that my height and weight hasn't really changed since those years, I decided to try it on. Shock and horror...I looked like a fat woman in a cocktail dress, spilling out here and popping out there. It really makes you realize that kids that age are certainly lacking in the most, ahem, important areas, though they may profess otherwise. Needless to say, stop two was a complete failure, and we moved on after shoving the bathing suit into the deepest recess of the underwear rack.

Feeling tired and defeated, the two of us entered the final shop - Marks and Spencers. It was here we found a pile of perfect bathing suits. If only we had come here in the first place! I found three in which I felt really comfortable and looked good. Unfortunately, two of the nicest ones were quite dear (60 dollars each!!) so I went for a light blue tankini that cost me only 30 dollars. Thanks to that purchase, the horror that is bathing suit shopping has been put off for another five years and I can go to the beach and visit people's houses in peace. (Hmm...five years is too soon...perhaps I should have bought two!)

The Story Of My Domestication

I have just come from a three day break with Christine and David, and it was smashing. Since I got on so well with them last time I was in England, we were this time able to solidify the relationship we had developed before, except with me as an awkward adult rather than an awkward teenager! To my admitted relief, very little has changed about them, so it didn't take much time for us to get used to each other's presence. While nothing "out of this world" happened while I was there, I was able to see David's sister Ros, and his mother Kath for an hour each, both of whom I would like to know better and never had a chance.

Ros showed me the photos she had taken while in Italy, along with the additions she had made to her house including an extra bathroom and a sunroom. (It seems like everyone is purchasing sunrooms these days!) Kath, on the other hand, has moved from her grey cottage to a home for the elderly, a gorgeous building snugly tucked in the back ends of Wolverhampton, where she is cared for by a couple of ladies including a young Japanese woman on a working holiday. Christine proposed that she arrange an introduction but I felt it would be best that if we just so happened to see her during our visit, Christine could introduce us, but beyond that, there would be no point. In the end, I didn't meet her but I don't mind since we enjoyed a lively chat with Kath over chocolate instead. It was funny because Kath, being in her 90's, has lost most of her hearing, and I, having possibly the mousiest voice on the planet, had to force myself to turn up the volume ten fold on my voice! I don't think I really like the sound of my voice when it bellows to be honest. :P

The times in between were allotted to tea breaks, mind benders in a pile of forgotten Mensa magazines, and amazingly enough, cooking! Christine and I had the wild idea of making a "super salad" with our own original vinaigrette dressing, and a pear and strawberry crumble for dessert, with the sole goal to make me a more domesticated young woman. Hehe. I always find that cooking with someone else is far more exciting that cooking alone. It also means if your attention gets pulled away towards something else, the other person is usually there to take over. In the same way, my roommate Erin and I would sometimes put our heads together and cook when her dad was away - it was always a lot of fun. Anyway, the dressing was perfect so I've taken the recipe with me to make for other people. The crumble was also wonderful, although I think I probably made far too large a portion for just myself.

On top of cooking, I also introduced Christine to my current favourite Japanese movie about five different people who all interpret the events of one fateful night in a different way, and in exchange for a pile of new Mary Stewart and Jean Plaidy books, made flyers for David's upcoming booksale with which he was very happy. As I said, nothing mind blowing, just a wonderful three days of bonding and intense domesticating! :P

I am now at my dad's eldest sister Lois' house with her husband Phil and daughter Amanda who is only three years older than me. Lois and Phil will only be here until Tuesday since they are vacationing in France after that, but Amanda and I will have the entire week to ourselves to hang out, watch movies, and visit her university hometown of Bath. We may even get to see her older sister Suzie on either Thursday or Friday. Should be fun!

Rule #2: If You Don't Get Lost, You Haven't Been On Holiday

Heather is back in Wolverhampton, and it seems she is much the wiser after an exhausting escapade on her way back from Cardiff. Hills were climbed, bags were dropped, feet were trampled on (ouch!), but nothing could stop our travelling heroine in her quest to conquer England...

Okay, enough of the third person and back to the actual post. (Me thinks I am running out of creative ways to begin writing!) As you may have guessed, I am incredibly tired after a long day of hot and sweaty travelling, and though much happened along the way, I'll break it down into a few points.

First of all, I got lost in downtown Wolverhampton on my way to Christine and David's house despite the many times I've gone there with my dad! I got off the final train from Birmingham after changing once at Gloucester and stumbled out of the train station only to find myself muddled as to which way to go. Do you know that feeling when you inherently "know" bits and pieces of an area, like say a building or a town square, but just can't seem to string them together into one coherent whole? That is how I feel about most places, but especially Wolverhampton. (Partly due to my tendency to follow my dad around like a blind sheep.) So I wandered around for ages in the 37 degree heat with my pully bag in tow looking for the bus-stop my dad had mentioned, but without avail. Finally, I just decided to go back to the station and find a bus there, even if it took me in a bit of a roundabout direction. However, once on the bus, I messed up AGAIN when I got off at completely the wrong stop, simply because it looked like an area close to Christine and David's house, when I was actually on the other side of town (duh). Thus I had a long walk in the direction the bus was headed and thanks to a nice old man whom I asked for help along the way, I arrived safely at their house in the end, but it took a great deal of effort on the part of my tired little legs and frazzled brain.

And the fun doesn't stop there! On my second day in Cardiff, I was set free by Pam and Darren to familiarize myself with the city while they were at work. I had a lovely time at Cardiff Castle where I received a 50 minute tour of the grounds, and surprisingly I didn't lose my way once! However, my luck wasn't to last, for when I got back to the house, stuck the key in the lock and turned, I found the door stuck fast like a stubborn old mule. The neighbours must have thought I was breaking in, watching me kick at the door and violently shake the handle until it was about to drop off. I thought to myself, "Someone is going to call the cops in a second," turned on my heal and went to the pub for a pint of Brain's beer and a breather. It was a good two hours before I came back to once again challenge the door which loomed in front of me as obstinate as ever. This time, a man was across the road from the house fixing his car, so trying to avoid his glance, I went back to battling the enemy. It didn't take long for him to come over and check out the suspicious looking character ripping his neighbour's door to bits. "You alright?" he asked and I explained the situation to him, pretty sure he would believe me if I really emphasized the Canadian accent and put on my best innocent face. Thankfully, his suspicion dropped and I watched on with bulging eyes as he snatched the key from my hand, twisted the lock once and eased open the door. I could have spat I was so embarrassed but I suppose most doors in the area are similar and need the touch of a local to be opened.

Yet despite it all, here I now sit in my room for the next three days, safe and sound. Personally, I think getting lost and doing stupid things is more fun that knowing where you're going and having a concrete plan. Today was exactly how Trin and I "did" Japan - a vague plan but not an inkling as to what the hell we were doing. I think I'll get lost more often.

PS: I am feeling guilty that I did not blog about Cardiff Castle all that much since it was a gorgeous place. I would have but there really isn't much to cover except that it was rebuilt in the 1800's by the wealthiest man in Britain at the time who started up a successful coal mining company. Thanks to the wealth that he poured into the project, the castle's exterior looks almost as it did when it was first built in the 1000's, while the interior has been completed refurbished to the Far Eastern tastes of the wealthy business man. The only section of the castle that remains unaltered is the keep where the Duke of Normandy (the rightful heir to the throne) was held prisoner, and also where the royal family would hide in times of danger. Interesting stuff, eh? Oh, and his great grandson was apparently a super hunk, with thousands of gorgeous woman at his heals, yet was forced to marry the so called ugliest woman in Wales for money. I had a good chuckle at that. :P

Rule #1: Never, Ever Buy Clothes Over 10 Dollars

Wouldn't you know that the Great Canadian Heat Spell has followed me all the way from Ontario to Cardiff! The last two days I have spent with my cousins Pam and Darren have been absolute scorchers, a real oddity for this country since the temperature rarely goes above the low twenties. Other than that and the horrific cold I have developed, I have been having a cracking time and am finding the change of scenery/company most refreshing.

I arrived at around 2:30 yesterday after a two hour train ride from Burmingham New Street. Across from me on the train, I was fascinated by a nice looking German guy about my age who must have been writing a novel judging from the 10 pages he completed within the time it took to get from point A to B. My guess was that he was taking his inspiration from the beautiful scenery that engulfed our little train as it chugged through the hilly English countryside. (I would have gone up to ask him what he was doing if I had just had the nerve! :P) He was just one of the many tourists that filled the train, each with a massive suitcase and a funny accent to match. When I arrived, I ran to make a phone call to Darren who had promised to give me directions as to what to do once I arrived. He told me that Pam was on her way and that I was to wait for her at the station. I was then I was approched by what seemed to be a desperate mother and daughter who claimed to be in need of 30 p to make a phonecall. Me being the silly twat that I am handed over a pound since I didn't have the change, and was stunned to watch after I had walked away that the same blasted pair was approaching every person at the station asking the same question! I bet they easily made 100 pounds that day, and I would have reported them if I hadn't had got my revenge in a more subtle way. You see, when Pam arrived, they had the nerve to ask her for money even though I was standing right beside her, and I made sure to drag Pam away and give them the dirtiest look possible as we walked out the station door. (Hah hah...)

The night was spent at a beautiful little Italian restaurant owned by Darren's friend Adriano. I had a pizza with anchovies, garlic, olives, and cheese, and it was absolutely divine. Unfortunately, I made myself quite sick after only a glass of wine. Apparently sinus colds and wine are the perfect mixture for getting tizzy. Not to mention that I was busting to the seams after eating a wonderful lemon cheesecake for dessert. Tomorrow is Darren's (who is an AMAZING cook) specialty sheppard's pie; I can hardly wait!

Today was also a wonderful day. Since Pam was expecting an oven delivery, she had arranged to take the day off work, but luckily enough, the delivers just happened to be in the area and dropped it off yesterday leaving the entire day free for us to explore Cardiff together. She took me to a discount clothes store called Primark which had the latest British/Welsh fashions at extremely low prices. I went in thinking that I wouldn't find a thing being the penny pincher that I am, and came out 50 dollars poorer with five different summer outfits! Mind you, if I were in Canada, I would have probably ended up spending a load of money on new things in preparation for my exchange anyway, so I can't feel guilty. The only problem is getting everything back in one suitcase! Afterwards, to escape the midday heat, we stopped at a cafe first, and then spent a good two hours in the Hard Rock Cafe where I was spoilt once again to Sex On The Beach (a drink, it's a drink!!) and a Hurricane that cost....wait for it....20 dollars! But never fear, a souvineer glass was included; a smashing present from Pam. And that brings us to now, sitting at home listening to Status Quo* and drinking tea, all the while trying to stay out of the heat.

*Pam is their number one fan and follows them all over the world, and has even been asked out for a drink by their guitarist Rick Parfitt!

I am also very impressed by the city of Cardiff itself. In terms of layout, it isn't much different to the grid design of Toronto, making it very easy to maneuver, and was built around the same time. An unusual fact about Cardiff is that the oldest parts of the city exist around the perifere as opposed to the centre since Cardiff was established in an area without much of a settlement, and spread outwards to incorporate all of the surrounding villages and counties. A few attractions include Cardiff Castle which I will be visiting tomorrow, the Taff River, the football statium where many British games are held, and Charlotte Church's parent's hotel and pub.

Grandma the Octogenarian

Today, I realized that if there is one thing I admire about my 'Grandma England', it would be her extraordinary ability to host a proper party. At her 80th birthday bash, with nearly 50 people in attendance, my grandma charmed her guests with eloquent speeches in her "you'd never guess I'm 80" manner, and orchestrated an event at which all family members and friends could get reacquainted. My dad, grandma and I arrived early to set up the flowers and cards in the room. Before we had time to lay out the last of the decorations, guests started to trickle in until the room was bulging with people ranging from close family to people my dad hadn't seen since he was a boy. I will never forget my dad's reaction when it dawned on him that the lovely lady with whom he had been chatting to for over an hour was, in fact, a lady he had admired some thirty odd years ago as a young man. The shock couldn't be shaken out of him!

I was sat at a table with my five cousins - two younger and two older - and my aunt Lois, aunt Sheila and uncle Phil. In a way, I was thankful to have been separated from my dad since it allowed me to speak with my cousins not as an attachment to "uncle Peter," but as their cousin. The most touching moment was when my younger cousin Kirsty came up, hugged my arm and said "I love you, Heather," even though she hardly knows me. It made spending the $1500 to come over here worth every penny.

The highlight of the event itself was when a guest speaker named Rhona Powell put on a comedic performance of a selection of poetry about getting old. The poetry was saturated in traditional, and sometimes rather naughty British humour that you'd never hear elsewhere. My grandma told me that she had seen her perform once in Tamworth and was impressed enough to invite her to the celebration to add a touch of comedic spice to the hotpot. The proceedings she earns from each event apparently go to the hospice, which I think is a wonderful cause. As she fed the laughter in the room, I found myself feeling very fortunate to be participating in this perfect example of British culture not as a guest but as a member. If I weren't for my family, I'd be stuck touring Big Ben and gaping at the guards of Buckingham Palace the whole holiday, never actually experiencing the true essence of English culture. I guess I've been fortunate in many ways because I had a similar experience in Japan through living with a host family. There is no other way to understand a country, me thinks.

Yesterday was a little bit more low key, but just as nice. I had the idea to invite my cousins Kirsty and Mary, and my aunt Sheila to see Pirates of the Caribbean II since Kirsty is completely smitten with Johnny Depp, and Nick told me that he really enjoyed it. I can't say it was as good as the first PotC but if all you're after is a bit of lighthearted fun, it was the perfect choice. I mean, how often do you get to see Johnny Depp put on a Keith Richards imitation in a pirate's costume?? I guess my biggest qualm was that the story was lacking in substance and perhaps the plot was stretched out in too many directions. I also found that too many characters from the first movie were reused without reason, and a few new characters were introduced just for the sake of adding new faces to the series. In short, they probably could have done without half the characters and done just as well. The best part was the fight scene between Jack Sparrow, Will Turner and the commodore that took place on a rapidly rotating water wheel. I am not sure how they tweaked the graphics but I am guessing that in order to make the wheel appear to spin, they rotated the background and had the three actors battle it out on a stationary prop. Anyhow, it looked very real.

Afterwards, we went back to my cousin's place. My uncle Paul was waiting there for us and we had BBQ of chicken, potatoes, chips, tomatoes, sausages, and bacon, and it was amazingly delicious! Kirsty showed me her collection of necklaces in her room, and Mary put on her DVD of Wallace and Gromit that my dad had bought for her just before. We were also visited by their adopted cat Rose who had the most unusual colouring for a cat. For fun, I've been putting together pictures of British cats, and Rose became cat #5 in my collection.

Tomorrow, I bid Wolverhampton farewell for three days and head off to Cardiff, Wales to see my granddad's cousin Pam and her husband Darren. Pam was my dad's good friend when he was young, and was responsible for introducing my parents, so really, I am forever indebted to her!

A Post For Doris

Today, for the second time in my life, I attended a funeral. My first was that of my granddad on my mum’s side and it goes to say that it was a very personal and heartbreaking moment in my life as he was extremely close to me. This time, however, it was for my uncle’s mother, Doris, a lady who was very dear to most of my relatives, but I hardly knew myself. I admit, I was filled with a strange sensation sitting next to the many people in the church who had heartfelt stories to tell, and genuine tears to shed - the feeling that I was an intruder at a very private event. Although I fully related to the overall grief, and sympathized deeply, this conviction did not relieve the pervasive feeling of unbelonging I felt throughout the service. However, I do think I had a small purpose in being there since I was able to support those most affected by her passing. I think they appreciated my support, and knowing that makes it all worthwhile. With the funeral now over, and Doris laid peacefully in the ground, I think we can feel grateful that we can celebrate my grandma's 80th birthday as it will help us overcome the sorrow of Doris' passing, and recognize the importance of the brief time on earth that has beeallotteded to each and every one of us.

The Boar of Britain

I’ve just been watching an incredible program on BBC television today about a phenomenon in Britain called The Boar. The Boar is a massive wave that originates from the estuary of the Severn River in the south of England. Due to the gravitational forces emitted by the sun and the moon, the wave is dragged across the Atlantic Ocean and pushed up into the narrow river opening, but since the river is too narrow to handle the massive amount of water, it swells up into a fifteen foot salty sea wave that battles against the normal direction of the tide, and draws spectators from all over the world to see and surf on it. The same phenomenon occurs in the Canadian Bay of Fundy, but with a much larger amount of water funneling in from the Atlantic. Apparently, the best time to view it is when the sun and moon are in alignment, doubling the force of gravity on the tides. I doubt I’ll have the chance to see it myself but I thought I’d make mention of it as the program piqued my interest. Not to mention it will add a kind of “touristy” dynamism to my otherwise mundane blog!

Blame It On The Cider!

Our day yesterday of loafing around Wolverhampton was balanced out today with a trip to Ashby where my dad's cousin Anthony and his aunt Jacky live. Although I find it hard to remember them, I have a few faded but fond memories of Jacky from when she visited Canada in 1998, and Anthony turned out to be a barrel of fun. We took the train from Wolverhampton station all the way to Burton on Trent with the necessary stopover in Birmingham before being picked up by Anthony and taken to his house. I think the single most appropriate word to describe the house would be "rustic". In the kitchen were ruddy pine countertops and cupboards complimented by deep leaf green wallpaper. The sunroom looked out on a backyard filled with bonsai trees that Anthony has cared for as long as I've been alive. Beside the kitchen, the living room, snugly tucked to the side of the kitchen, was brightened by a selection of lovely portraits and antique furniture. In short, it was my dream house, though me being me, I doubt I'd be able to take care of it!

My deluded dreams of owning such a place, however, only lasted an hour or so since we had to be heading off to aunt Jacky's house to pick her up for tea and lunch. (Yes, I know, us Brits are always drinking tea! It's good for our health!) Although she has lost most of her sight, Jacky was in excellent spirits and the four of us enjoyed a very unique meal each at a pub called The Beaches. Mine was a lasagna special, followed by an apple pie with thick British custard - a tasty addition since we tend to only get vanilla ice cream with our pies in Canada. Unfortunately, we had a small scare at the restaurant when Jacky had a little fall down the stairs after losing her balance. Although I was holding her arm, I could not help her because I have arms like toothpicks. Thankfully, Jacky wasn't hurt and it turned into a joke that lasted for the remainder of the day (apparently, I'll never live it down, though part of the blame was placed on the alcideric cidar we both had!). After the drama at the restaurant ended, we went back to Jacky's house to see Anthony's son Jeremy, who had stopped by briefly after work, a nice end to the day before catching the train home.

I also had my first little adventure away from my dad yesterday! I challenged myself to find my way to Christine and David's using only a shoddy map drawn by my dad. It wasn't really a challenge considering I've made it around Japan basically on my own but nevertheless, I always figure it is important to get to know an area yourself no matter how simple. Anyway, I made it, and was given some really interesting facts about my ancestors from Christine who, as I have mentioned before, is currently absorbed in tracking down our family line. For instance, the White family on my granddad's mother's side was an extremely wealthy and important family in the Coldfield area back in the 1800's. We even have a picture of one of the White gentlemen - my great, great grandfather - leading a parade. I think Christine is going to make a copy of some of the record for me to leaf through, and if I get the time, I will be curious to look up my mum's side of the family. We'll see how it goes!

Invasion of the Relatives!

Welcome to update number three of my journey! Things have finally settled down over here – the family has gotten used to us, the dogs don’t bark when we knock on the door anymore, and the cat has taken to giving me friendly head butts rather than violent slashes of the paw. It is a good feeling to be accepted.

The weather has cooled down significantly over the past few days. When we arrived, it was hot, sticky and humid. Now, if I step outside, there is a bitter winter breeze blowing about on what should be a warm, partly-cloudy summer day. Luckily, I am prepared with one jacket and one sweatshirt so my only worry is being accused of wearing the same blessed thing everyday. (Hardly a worry in my books!) It gets me wondering why, if animals are *generally* most comfortable at around 22 degrees, it is that our planet always seems most content at overly cold temperatures as in the case of England, or unbearably scorching hot temperatures like in Ontario. I guess that is a question to be “put to the void” as Meg Ryan once said.

Two days ago my dad and I went over to Sutton Coldfield to visit my aunt Lois and uncle Phil. We had intended to go by train and change over at Birmingham station. Unfortunately, the line was under construction for the weekend thus cutting off our direct connection to Sutton Coldfield. In the end, we were transferred to a city bus that took us relatively close to our destination, and had a nice walk to Lois and Phil’s place from there.

To our surprise, what started out as a four person gathering soon turned into a massive family reunion! It started with my cousin Suzie paying a visit as she had heard my dad was around. (She hadn’t heard the news that I had come along as well.) When I opened the door for her as she entered the house, both of us almost fell over at seeing each other so unexpectedly. It was a real laugh! Apparently, she and her boyfriend Simon will be buying a new house in a couple of months; a pretty, detached place with a sunroom, finished kitchen, and very comfortable sitting area. I think she will be very happy there.

(On the topic of real estate, I always feel sorry for the British because their houses cost twice as much as ours at home. I doubt anyone save a millionaire could purchase one of those monster homes up near the mall if N—t were Britain. And from what I’ve heard, houses in P.E.I. are half of what houses cost in Ontario. Imagine what the average Brit could buy there!)

Next, we heard a gaggle of voices on the driveway that I thought was the neighbours. It turned out to be my dad’s youngest sister Sheila, her husband Paul, and their two young daughters Kirsty and Mary. I had a wonderful time playing ball with the girls in the backyard, and watching Mary jump around in Phil’s new swimming pool. When I asked them if they remembered me, I received a unanimous ‘yes’ which threw me off. I asked my dad how they remembered and he said that Sheila often makes to a point to talk about my dad and his family in order to keep the memory fresh. I think that is absolutely lovely.

Last of all, my other cousin Amanda drove all the way up from Cornwall for six hours to see us before we headed back to grandma’s house. Before we left, the two of us had a sporadic sing-a-long in her room – she played the guitar and sang, and I provided the crummy back-up vocals – while I looked through her photos taken in Cornwall and Spain.

To change topics completely, yesterday was the final day of the World Cup. I heard by word of mouth that Italy won, so little Italy downtown is sure to be going wild with excitement. Nevertheless, I think France had an excellent shot and it is impossible to say that one is better than the other, especially since it came down to shoot outs. It has been really amusing to see Britain’s reaction to the loss of its soccer team – soccer kits that were probably in the forty dollar range have dropped to less than five bucks, lonely looking flags drape sadly over the odd car and house, and Ronaldo bashing is on the lips of every soccer fan for his giving Rooney the red card (I doubt it would have made a difference to England’s chances anyway).

So here I will end off – today I will drop in on Christine and David for tea, and tomorrow I am off to see my great aunt Jackie and her son Anthony. Should be fun!

Bridgnorth and Beyond

Hello everyone! I am writing to you from Day 3 of our trip. I had to leave out Day 2 even though quite a few interesting things did happen, but since I figure that I will not have internet access more than once a week, I should keep my entries as brief as possible, and few and far between.

The main event yesterday was our trip to downtown Wolverhampton. It was basically a guided tour of dad’s childhood, as well as a day to kick the last of the jetlag out of us. Among the places we saw were dad’s old grammar school where my uncle David was headboy (perhaps, in our terms, the head of the high school student council?), my dad’s two favourite pubs, and the long line of shops and malls that litter the streets of the city. Of course, the shops and malls in England aren’t what we think of as being shops and malls in Canada. One must keep in mind that each building has a history that ranges from the reign of Elizabeth (though these are rare because they were made mostly of wood) to the Victorian era to the present day. To put it into perspective, the oldest houses in N—t range back to about the early 1800’s. Parts of houses and buildings in England on the other hand are easily traced back to the Saxon and Roman times. It is like standing in a swimming pool of history – you are swamped in it wherever you go!

On the walk home back from Wolverhampton, who should we happen to meet but my aunt and uncle, David and Christine driving by in their car, honking away on their horn. It was a funny coincidence because neither of us has planned to take that route home; it just happened! So we popped back to their place for what was supposed to be a quick cup of tea, but turned into a long conversation about family history, the strangely humid weather in Britain, and the important events that have happened between 1999 and now. Recently, they have been particularly fascinated with creating family trees, and a great find due to their efforts was that my grandma, who was adopted, has three long lost siblings born of the same parents, one of which resides in Canada of all places, and used to live on our street! The story created such a stir that a writer actually wrote about it in the Globe and Mail a year or so back. Anyway, it was funny to think that seven years had passed from the time I last saw them since nothing seemed to have changed. And I was welcomed to come by at any time and if necessary, to plonk myself down and fall asleep anywhere in the house.

Today was taken up by a daytrip with dad and grandma to Bridgnorth, a town located about twenty minutes away from Wolverhampton. For such a small town, I was surprised at how the people have jam-packed so many little houses along the miniature streets. In fact, each side street is only about as wide as a proper lane in Canada, and the highways only a tad bigger than Eagle Street. What is more, the curb is so narrow that one almost has to tightrope walk along it. My dad was almost hit by two cars today as a result! Another funny thing is that while in Canada, pedestrians have the right of way, it is the cars in Britain that have priority, making us poor pedestrians easy targets on every corner. Crazy stuff. So back to Bridgnoth…the town was a diamond in the rough. It had a very old castle which had been bombed by Oliver Cromwell in the 1640’s over the dissatisfaction with Edward I on the throne. It is the location that holds the pub where my parents got engaged. On top of that, it had an amazing train station with old locomotives that had been preserved purposely for historical purposes. The smell at the station was overwhelming – a waft of burning coal poured out by the engine of the steam train. You would think the smell would be off putting but it reminds me of a winter fireplace and is very soothing when put with the sound of the chugging produced by the train. I was also very taken with the old buildings and their placement around the town. Such a random arrangement of streets and buildings could only have occurred after years of gradual addition to and reformation of the town. It is definitely something we are lacking back home since Toronto was created during an era of modernization, so everything could be built within a very short period of time, and arranged neatly for convenience. But at the price of convenience, our towns lack the charm of buildings that have been built, lived in, reworked, fixed, and cared for over hundreds of years. Within a few years time of course, the buildings in Canada will have gained a history of their own if they are preserved, but it will take decades for this to happen.

So, all in all, it was a very good day for both my dad and me. We completed the day with a bus ride home which was boarded by millions of school kids in their black and white uniforms yelling at each other in thick Brummie accents. I was lucky to catch half of what they said, though I do find myself sometimes slipping into the accent every now and then. I wonder if it is a subconscious way of trying to fit in. Anyhow, I promise not to come back completely unrecognizable to you all – I don’t even like the Wolverhampton accent anyway so no worries. Until next time, terrah!

Arrival in London, England

Well, it took a grueling flight and a strenuous 48 hour day, but I am finally here sitting in bed in my grandma’s spare room on a thunderous cloudy morning in Wolverhampton. Hardly a thing has changed since I was here last; a comfort in many ways as I am here to relax and recuperate before the major trip overseas takes place. My dad and I had an excellent sleep last night. We managed to stay awake until 9:00 p.m. (4:00 p.m. Ontario time) and crashed as soon as it began to get dark.

After getting off of the plane following six rather restless hours, dad and I had a hurried yet very interesting look around the important parts of London. It was raining and I was feeling quite sick after the plane ride since the plane had to make circles over the airport for about a half an hour due to thunderstorms, so we couldn’t help but rush. The first thing I saw when stepping out of the underground of Houston train station was the colossal structure that makes up Big Ben. When one thinks of Big Ben, the clock tower is usually what pops to mind. However, the clock is only a small attachment to the massive base, a grand structure that reminds me of a tawny coloured cathedral put out of use. It was the first thing that filled my vision, and got my trip off to a great start.

Next we saw the Thames river, looking glorious framed by the traditional rainy skies of Britain, and the Ferris wheel in the background. On the Thames, one could see little tug boats gently knocking against the docks, and a few birds happily dotting the waves as they sloshed in and out of the peer. It was a lovely sight of which we got quite a few pictures. This was followed by a quick peek at White Hall, and a hurried walk down the various streets of London with the occasional venture into a small café for a drink. It was dreadfully humid and since England rarely gets such weather, not a single store was air conditioned – not even the large superstores. In the end, we had to find a shop with an open door refrigerator to relieve ourselves of the drenching heat. (I guess in terms of global warming, England really isn’t a large contributor as they don’t air condition!)

It took about two more hours to get to Wolverhampton by the Virgin railway. Dad and I barely remember this part of trip as we both fell asleep lying on the table in our little booth. As dad said: That was the quickest ride to Wolverhampton I’ve ever had! But from what I remember, the train was very clean and perhaps the only air conditioned place in all of London! (Overly so…) From Wolverhampton station, we walked for about an hour trailing our luggage behind us. I refused to take the bus to grandma’s house because of my poorly stomach, and despite our tired state, I think we were both glad to get the walk in.

Funnily enough, my grandma was hardly surprised to see me – at least from her expression! But it was obvious that she hadn’t a clue I was going to be there, and seemed delighted to have me. The rest of the relatives found out yesterday as well and we are all looking forward to getting together. (I must say a quick thanks to my cousin Amanda who kept the secret of my coming the whole two weeks before my arrival! You’re the best!!) But for now, I have just been enjoying the company of my dad, grandma, her two lovely dogs Milly and Molly, and her suspicious yet very sweet cat Toby. I don’t know if I am quite ready for the drama of seeing everyone but I am sure it will all work out.

Love to mum, Nick and grandma – I hope you are all getting on well. Don’t worry about us since we are doing just fine! And Trin, you will definitely love it here! This trip has made me all the more excited for Europe 200- with Trin coming up in a few years time. Hehe.

...And She's Off!

Well, the day has come that I blow this joint! I'll be on a plane to England in just under seven hours now, and in 24 hours I will be gazing up at the London sky! Wish me luck everyone and check back for updates and pictures!

Canada Day Festivities

Just a quickie today, nothing fancy. I saw Erin yesterday for Canada Day as planned. I was surprised because the festivities in Toronto are hardly as good as those in my hometown. Rather than throngs of facepainted people dressed in red and white, all I got was a few overly packed tourists and a few grumpy looking business men. But hey, I guess it makes you appreciate what you have! So with me dressed in my flashy Canada Day shirt and white pants, and Erin dressed in some of her new duds, we set out to China Town to raid the DVD stores. We found a place that sold 7 Japanese DVDs for $20 dollars and excused the illegality of our purchases by repeating to ourselves that the DVDs were for study purposes, and that purpose only. We also rested our feet at Harbour Front, and had our lunch at Subway and enjoyed a drink of bubble tea to quench the thirst brought on by the scorching sun. It doesn't seem like we did a lot but we walked absolutely everywhere, killing a good few hours. I was really glad to catch up with Erin again since so much has happened since I left - in a way I miss living there but I'm sure I can go back for my fourth year of university!

Today, I spent most of my time with my parents. We went to see The Lake House since my mum was interested and my dad is a big Sandra Bullock fan, and I suggested that we go to Big Papa's since I really enjoyed myself that time I went with Trin. The movie was just up our ally (romantic, had a time warp, and Keanu actually ACTED!) and the food and service was wonderful at the restaurant. So yeah...that's all I have to say...and I'm being distracted by the Simpsons, so I'll write later!