Happy Birthday JANNELLE!!

When we visited Rievaulx, we thought of you. Elegant and peaceful. Oh yeah, and that the French lived there a really long time ago.

We hope that you are having a fantastic day!!

Mon dentier est cassé... courtesy of my French phrase book. All the essentials, of course. A bientôt.

Dublin

Appropriately, a big rainbow started our trip--no joke. Pat and I saw it as we were driving to the airport in Leeds to fly over to Dublin. It was a very pretty morning with rain breaking up and the rising sun casting beautiful colors on the clouds and the fall landscape.

We flew into Dublin Tuesday on our first really cheap RyanAir flight. We just paid tax essentially. I would recommend it. There is a little more of the corral mentality i.e. there are no assigned seats, except for the first row, so when they're ready to board you go into a holding pen before you go out to the plane. No snacks, no drinks, no magazines, but you can pay extra for it. You also pay extra for your checked bags. It was a larger plane than many of the Comair flights I've been on (3 seats on each side of the aisle), the seats were arguably more comfortable than Comair, and they still had two stewardess/stewards which surprised me. The most notable thing about the flights was the rocky landing on arrival in Dublin. It was very windy and it felt like the plane jumped sideways when it touched down although other people felt like it landed on one side before the other. That was followed by a triumphal horn (like we were at the races) celebrating an on-time arrival--that was pretty funny.

Pat was headed to Dublin for business and I was tagging along for fun. So while he worked on Wed., I took my first double-decker bus ride into the city center. Of course, I had to sit on top, otherwise it wouldn't have been a double-decker ride :)

I got off next to the Liffey, the major river cutting through Dublin, and walked the streets taking pictures... because that's what I do. I saw Temple Bar, walked through the pedestrian shopping areas of Grafton Street, cut through St. Stephen's Green, and walked along Merrion Square.

Here's the famous Ha'penny Bridge across the Liffey. It's a cast-iron bridge, originally named the Wellington Bridge, built in 1816. When it was a toll bridge, they use to charge a halfpenny to cross it which is how it got it's current name.


This is the exterior of a pub in Temple Bar that looked pretty cool, and Irish.


And just so you know you're really in Ireland, all of the street lamps have clover motifs. Of course you see other hints of "Irish" things like harps and bilingual gaelic names and signage as you wander the street, but it's not nearly as over-the-top as I would have expected.


The structures of some of the covered shopping areas are interesting too and definitely remind you of another time.


I stumbled into the grounds of the Dublin Castle--literally. I wasn't planning on seeing it since the pictures in our travel books didn't look too interesting, but ended up walking around the exterior of the complex and the Upper and Lower Yards. It's a really odd combination of architecture with a medieval-looking tower that is somewhat original, a church, and a palace-like apartment quadrangle added in the late 1600s, early 1700s. The picture below best shows the conglomeration. However, it doesn't show that sections of the back of the castle complex have been whitewashed and painted really bright green, blue, yellow, and orange--that's a little odd too with the old architectural details surrounding it. If you ever go, the garden in the back is nice to see, however the signage is horrible. I never would have found it (even with my maps) if I hadn't been wandering around in what felt like access roads when a passerby said I should check it out.


For those of you wondering about the weather, yes I am wearing my winter jacket AND gloves in that picture. We are having a bit of a cold snap and I was glad I had them since I walked around all day. The highs have been in the upper 40s, lower 50s. We actually turned on the heat when we got home. Luckily it's suppose to warm up a little soon, but I expect we're on the downward spiral.

Walking around Dublin, I realized how truly spoiled I've become. Without a true appreciation of Dublin's history or of all things Irish, I found the city itself disappointing. It just can't compare to Rome or some of the other places we've been, but now I can say I've been to Dublin. Even if for only a day.

Now the piéce de résistance...

The Guinness Factory. This is the one thing Pat really wanted to see in Dublin. Luckily, he was able to finish up work just in time to hop into a cab, get on a tram, and run a couple of blocks to get to the Factory before the last admission. I sped-walked across town to get tickets--the constant flow of people with Guinness Factory shopping bags reassuring me that I was on the right path. I actually had to open my coat after that :)

You got to tour an exhibit showcasing the ingredients, the manufacturing process, and the history of the brew. This included old bottles and labels, old advertising, etc. This is a picture of one of the old humongous barrels and coppers used to store and heat the brew. For scale, this is taken from a balcony. You can see a human-size doorway in the bottom of the barrel so that you can inspect it from the inside.


The exhibit was really well done and well worth seeing. At the top of the 7 level tour is the "Gravity Bar" with a wonderful 360˚ view of the factory, the city, the sea, and the Wicklow mountains off in the distance. To top it all off, you get a pint of Guinness to enjoy. See Happy Pat below...


On the way out, we purchased our own set of Guinness pint glasses. I also took a look at the lease framed in the floor of the lobby. I think it was one of the most interesting things in the Guinness Factory. The founder, Arthur Guinness, signed the lease in 1759 for £45 per year for 9,000 years... that's about $90 a year for a whole lot of space. They obviously expected him to fail. There are a whole lot of beer fans who are glad he didn't. We ended the night by taking a quick walk past some of the sights so Pat could see them and then met his co-workers in Temple Bar for dinner.

One thing that really impressed me were the cab drivers. The nicest, most normal cab drivers I have ever met. All three that Pat and I had were friendly and talkative. Like Pat said, it's like getting a ride from a friend.

Happy Birthday CASEY!!

Bevvying a rich, malty stout in Dublin's original Guinness Store House Tasting Room in honor of your mate's birthday... Brilliant!

We hope you're enjoying your birthday as much as we are!

Go ahead, get rat-arsed!

York Food Festival & the New Walk

This weekend we walked into York to see what the Food Festival was like. We had heard good things, but left a bit disappointed. I can't give a definitive opinion yet as it's so expensive to eat out here we don't do it a whole lot, but the food is rather boring.

I can almost say with 100% certainty that one, if not all, of the following options will be on every menu. Fish & chips, hamburger & chips, lasagna & chips, and curry. We've only found one restaurant so far that doesn't serve chips at all. It actually had one of the two best meals I've had since I've been here... Caesar chicken sandwich on a ciabatta. It was made with rotisserie chicken or something really moist and tasty--no pressed chicken pieces here. And, of course, we've already talked about Sticky Toffee Pudding.

The Food Festival was more ingredient-based than meal-based, so I guess it's not surprising that it was lackluster. Lots of sausages, meat, pasties (ground meat in a pastry wrap), little meat pies, rabbit sandwiches, venison sandwiches, angus, pigeon (!), some cheese, some turkish food, some chinese, wine, beer, etc. Vegetarian delight!

I miss sushi and thai food and Papa John's pizza.

Really, the moral of the story is leave your diet at home. They won't recognize it over here. There is very little "light" food--the focus is on "comfort" food. Salads as meals don't seem to be a big thing. In fact "salad," sometimes referred to as "mini salad," is the lettuce and tomato for your sandwich. They use real, 100% fat ingredients and there doesn't seem to be a big fear of coronary disease as evidenced by fish fryers on every corner.

I'm certainly not trying to say the US is healthy, because we all know we're not and the amount of preservatives and chemicals we use is probably killing us all. There just isn't the variety here that you have in the US, so you have fewer alternatives.

So after touring the Food Festival, we took the New Walk. This walk was new in the 1730s and designed to be a tree-lined path along the river Ouse for the rich to strut their stuff. It's been extended over the years and the Millennium Bridge, built in 2001, lets you cross to the other side of the river and return to the city on the opposite bank. On the way, you pass old dueling grounds, a couple of historic features, and the Rowntree Park. There is more than one Rowntree Park in York and they are all very well done. They remind me of the garden areas at Ault Park. They were built with Rowntree & Company donations to honor the dead of WWI and were added to after WWII.

I'll leave you with a couple of pictures of the parks:

funny signs, part 1

There is such a wealth of funny signs and terminology over here that I am confident that there will be more installations. For starters, here's a taster:

Only in England...




(That's "Nightly Bile Beans Keep You Healthy, Bright-Eyed and Slim")


(The first time I've seen the ability to get new skeleton keys cut)

Place Names...


(Gate is a street in York--this is the shortest one they have. Known in 1505 as Whitnourwhatnourgate (and meaning 'what a street!') it was changed later into its present name)








(How can you take a name like Skeeby seriously?)


(Somebody sure thinks a lot of themself--Studley Royal, come on)

broken record

Ok, same old story. New subject.

Finally got my credit card after about 5 weeks, one lost application, 3 bank visits, and 1 call to India. Mind you, this is for a secondary card on an existing account. Don't worry, I won't write another long rambling blog about the frustration--you get it.

Just in case my eyes ever get rosy and I start to think moving to England is a good idea, this blog entry is to remind me that I've gone crazy. It's really no wonder the British think of Americans as loud, pushy, and obnoxious. I wonder if it ever occurred to them that they bring out the best in us.

I mean after 3 weeks and 2 bank visits, I was patient, albeit annoyed. The 3rd visit and phone call to India, I was downright bitchtastic. After all, I could have flown back to the US, applied for the credit card, waited for it to arrive through snail mail, flown back, and still beaten this card here by a landslide. Too bad the international surcharges would suck which is why we started this whole thing in the first place.

home sweet, Cincinnati home

Last night Pat and I were about to shut off the TV and, to our surprise, a picture of the Cincinnati skyline popped up--on national British TV no less. The show was named "Women Who Kill." It went downhill from there... fast.

Pat and I sat in shock as they showed pictures of drug deals in Over the Rhine and told the story of a gold-digging stripper who shot her sugardaddy (their words) in 1998. She and her friends, referred to as the "3 stooges" (complete with video clips of the old black-and-white shows) went on to steal her sugardaddy's Mr. T gold jewelry, pot (he was a drug dealer), and an insane number of guns he kept in his trailer. Yes, all that drug money and he lived in a glamorous trailer.

They went to a Red Roof Inn to live it up and then decided to go to a night club in Kentucky. On the way, they were stopped for a traffic infraction by the Blue Ash police who cleverly unraveled the whole thing. The stripper's now doing life, but claims it was self-defense. Yada, yada, yada.

To top it all off, they interviewed the stripper's druggie ex-husband to get some insight into her soul and paraded her poor 3 abandoned kids on TV.

Oh the embarrassment.

I can't say I remember this case at all, but something made it worthy enough for an international audience. Perhaps it was the stupidity of it all.

Proud to be a Cincinnatian...

Richmond Castle & Easby Abbey

Last weekend, we ventured about an hour away to the town of Richmond in search of a castle. Thanks to TomTom, we found it. Richmond castle is built on a dramatic cliff next to the River Swale. It's claim to fame is that it's the "among the oldest Norman stone fortresses in Britain."



The tower, holding the 1170 keep, was a more recent remodel. The tower was the most impressive we've seen to date since it is so complete. It has floors and a roof--you can climb all three floors through narrow stone staircases. It has an impressive view of the old town below and of the countryside beyond. And it's super windy.


Pat says the more castles you see, the smaller they look :)

After our trek around the castle, we ate lunch by the falls at the River Swale conveniently located next to the car park. This is suppose to be the fastest running river in England. I believe it. This one actually has a noticeable current. From our limited exposure, most of the rivers here make the Lazy Miami at The Beach Waterpark look like it's in a hurry. This river was quite impressive with gigantic rock slabs that seem to fragment very regular and geometric pieces.



From there, we took footpaths to Easby Abbey. The really nice thing about England is that you could walk anywhere if you really wanted to. There are public footpaths everywhere. Across farmers' fields, around houses, you name it. To prevent the livestock from getting out through the footpath access points, people build little ladders so you can scale the fences easily. Chances are, if you pull over to the side of a road in the country, there's going to be a footpath within a 1/2 mile or so.



After a nice walk, we made it to the abbey. A lesser known victim of Henry the VIII, they don't even bother to charge admission here to walk among the ruins. After seeing so many other abbeys, we kind of got the gist of this one. It was a nice setting and interesting ruins. Some of the decoration was new and set itself apart from the other abbeys we've seen. Of course, this was a different order of monks.





When we got back to Richmond, we headed into town to get some fish and chips. We ate next to the falls at the River Swale and, after a quick ride on the zip cord in the children's playground, headed home.

Sunday was quiet with a grocery run and some more Rugby.

Happy 30th GREG!!

As we stand on this mountain pass celebrating this happy and special occasion, we ponder...

If 40 is "over the hill," then 30 must be on top. We hope you enjoy the view as you prepare for the descent!

P.S. Pat says you're old.

it's a geographical oddity

Borrowing from our favorite "O Brother Where Art Thou" lines, being in England is much like trying to order your favorite pomade in the middle of nowhere--it's a geographical oddity, 2 weeks from everywhere. Or, in our case, 5-10 business days.

It doesn't matter if it's making an appointment for the internet, flipping a remote switch to activate the internet, depositing a check, getting a credit card or a debit card. You're looking at 5-10 business days before you get anything. No urgency. That's just the way it is. I've even heard you have to give notice before you quit a service. That's a whole new odyssey waiting for us :)

I could respect it if that's how long it really takes to maintain the 37 hour work week and 5 weeks of vacation supposedly standard over here. I'm just not buying it yet. But then again, I'm part of an American culture that wants what they want now. I hope that's not what makes our working hours so long and demanding, but I have a feeling it is. It seems like "tight deadline" is the phrase most frequently heard around the office and we're always chasing our tails to meet it.

Maybe I could get used to the longer wait times. Then again, maybe not :)

ode to the internet

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
O constant connectivity,
How we've missed you!

(I never claimed to be a poet)

Seriously, the end of this odyssey deserves some serious celebration. After 2 1/2 months in this country, we FINALLY have an internet connection. Whew. Someday we'll be able to look back at the journey and laugh, but not yet.

It all started when Pat did research and came up with a great deal through Virgin. He had all sorts of problems getting them to schedule a date to come out because they couldn't find our address in the system. Our place had been "delisted" i.e. it didn't exist while it was being refurbished for about two years (it's a tax reduction thing I would imagine). It's now "listed" again, but not everyone has it in their system yet. So once he was able to get them to recognize us, it took two weeks and $100 for them to come out to run the cable line. (That's the standard wait time for just about everything) The problem was that Virgin is a cable broadband system and our house wasn't refurbished with that in mind. There's only a phone line. Pat talked to the landlord about running the cable and he was open to it, but wanted to be there when they came so he'd know how they were going to do it and retained veto power. So two weeks later, they came. Ultimately, you had two young guys that drill from the inside of the house out, not really knowing where they'll pop out and no recourse if it looked like shit. Because of that, and not being too excited about having a wire across the front of his house, the landlord said no. I don't blame him for that, I wouldn't have wanted it if I were him. I do blame him for not thinking it out more and just saying no earlier. I mean, there would have had to been pixie dust involved to run that cable and not disturb anything.

So, on to plan B. We ruled out any cable-based broadband and turned to DSL. There were two companies. Sky was a better deal and included some satellite TV stations in their package, but when we called they said they didn't have any more accounts in our area, they were full. We would have to wait until someone canceled service. It didn't sound like there was a waiting list or any way to tell how long it would take. Huh? How do these people stay in business.

Ok, plan C. BT. Really the only company that the landlord will approve of and that CAN give us a connection. They're huge--like the AT&T of Britain. They're also bastards with the worse customer service I've ever seen. Not that I will ever sing the praises of Time Warner because I hate them, but these people make them look good.

Of course, they're not the cheapest. Or the easiest to get a hold of. Pat has spent hours (my guess would be 3 or more, no kidding) on hold waiting to talk to someone to initiate service. There was even one night where we were determined to get through and traded the cell phone between us for at least an hour and a half with the same "we are very busy right now. We will be with you momentarily" message when Pat realized the company had closed after the first hour we had been on hold and left us there. We could have been on the phone all night.

Pat thought he had a great idea to cheat the system and got online to sign up. We didn't hear anything. He happened to walk up to one of his co-workers who was waiting on hold and jokingly said "is it BT?" She said yes. Big surprise. He found out that she had also tried to sign up for service over the internet and after waiting for God knows how long, called BT and found out that they had no record of the internet request. So Pat spent another hour or so on the phone to find out the same thing happened to us.

After actually talking to BT, getting the internet is a 3 step process of visits to our house over the course of 3 weeks. Luckily I'm not working since they give you those huge windows when they'll be there (between 8 and 1 or my personal favorite, before 6pm). Two weeks after the Virgin fiasco, BT came out to install the phone line. They won't even take your internet order until you have one. A week later they bring the broadband equipment so you can try to set it up yourself. If you don't succeed, you can pay a BT person $100 to come out 3 days later to do it for you. However, they can't bring the equipment with them and set it up in one trip. Don't ask me why. Luckily I was able to set it up myself. As long as the phone works after it charges tomorrow, I'll be able to cancel the installation appointment.

To top it all off, I got the first phone bill right before we got the internet equipment. It was due the very next day. Nice. So I got on the internet to register us so that I could pay. No go. Of course, they need 24 hours to show you your bill and you can't pay until it's there. Funny, I had 24 hours to pay. Pat was gone and I wasn't willing to spend a fortune on my cell phone to call those people. I trekked out to the nearest pay phone (BT of course). Luckily it was a free number to call since I had to call back 4 times or so to get the right menus. Get this, you have the option to pay and then, separately, you have the option to TELL them you've paid. How nice for them.

What did I learn from all of this?
1. Pat has more patience than I thought :)
2. Companies can miraculously survive by giving potential customers ulcers.
3. You should never get into a phone booth, even when it's cool outside, with the sun shining into it--it's like a bug under the magnifying glass effect.
4. Start planning for the internet in England before you leave the states and then know that, if all goes perfectly, you will be without it for at least 3 weeks.

A big thank you goes out to our mysterious next door neighbors who have been so kind as to lend us an unprotected, weak internet signal through the wall. Whenever we complained about it's slowness or that it wasn't working, we had to remember the glimmer of hope that it offered us and be thankful. How I'll miss hugging the wall closest to you, waiting, hoping, opening and closing my computer to fool it into seeing your weak signal. We promise that our intentions were good and that we didn't try to hack into any government agencies while "borrowing" your connection. Scout's honor.

the sea shipment is here

Well our stuff survived its journey across the pond and showed up at our door Monday. We now have everything that's coming. We have our bikes, our hiking shoes, hangers, a hammer (no more using shoes), games, pictures, random food, and all those things that start to make it feel like home here. Or a facsimile thereof.

Our bed also came. We are very excited to spread out in our queen and have been looking forward to sleeping on our mattress again. The bed that came with the place is soft--not like the rocks we slept on in Italy. It's almost too soft. It's either the softness or the 10 hours of sleep, but I've been sore a lot, especially in the beginning.

Before I left, I bought bed lifters, the extra high kind, since I didn't know what the storage situation would be like. Our bed's so high now it's funny looking--like the princess and the pea. We can get all of our suitcases and a dead body or two under it. I'm looking forward to Pat's reaction...

The worst part is that our stuff picked up a smell either from the boxes or from the shipping process. It smells like gasoline or some kind of industrial fume that I can't quite identify. Of course, I'm too stubborn to wash the clean sheets that arrived before I made our bed--so it smells. Those babies must be dirty before I spend two loads cleaning them. I popped open some incense stuff and went to sleep. I woke up again so it can't be that bad, but it does give you a whole new reason not to fluff the sheets :)

Pat's in the windy city of Chicago for the week so he has missed out on the unpacking so far. He will be home on Friday. He has another trip coming up on the 25th. This time he's going to Dublin and I'm going to go with him. Why not set foot in Ireland while we're here? Pat was excited to get our first cheap airfare tickets. The total cost for me to fly is 24 pounds or $48--that's 2 pence for the fare, the rest is tax. It's no frills and they charge you for each piece of luggage so the trick is to travel light. I'll let you know how it goes.

Happy Birthday TYRONE!!

aka Dan

We hope you're having a Tyrone-worthy birthday! We're toasting you from the 3-Legged Mare--a genuine English pub in York. Stouts and ciders on draft. Have a great day!! Sorry we're going to miss it!

Helpful Links

Check out the new "helpful links" tab on the right-hand tool bar. These are some of the websites we use on a regular basis to plan. I will add links to this as we find them, but thought they may be helpful for some of you coming to visit.

quiet weekend

This weekend we hung around York. It was open heritage day weekend which means that some of the historic sites that are usually closed, open and some that charge a fee are free. We went to the Treasurer's House in York.

The Treasurer's House was named at a later date by Frank Green, but was originally built on the grounds of the Minster church for the church treasurer. After Henry VIII took all their money, he abolished the treasurer post, etc.

So Frank Green was this eccentric guy that "restored" the house between 1897 and 1930 (his remodeling isn't true to the original house). There are 13 rooms in the house all decorated and furnished in the style of 4 different centuries. It was interesting if you like to look at guilded stuff.

The most interesting part of the house, in my opinion, is the basement. They were still charging an entrance fee for that so maybe we'll hit it later. York is supposedly one of the most haunted European cities. The Treasurer's basement is the site of the most substantiated York ghost story.

There was a young workmen who was doing something in the corner of the cellar by himself and heard the sound of a far off trumpet. He turned around and was petrified to see Roman soldiers dressed in green marching right past him. The weird thing, besides them being ghosts, was that they were cut off at the knees. When he came out of the basement, the foreman took one look at him and said "you saw them didn't you." I think this happened in the 50s so the guy is still alive and talks about it.

Apparently, part of the house sits on the old Roman road leading from the headquarters built approximately where the Minster is. There were some details of the story that didn't make sense to people, but having put more research into it, turned out to be accurate. People wondered why they were wearing green tunics instead of red which was much more common. Apparently they wore red for war, but green for training and one of their major practice fields was just outside of York along the road running under the Treasurer's house. People wondered why they were chopped off at the knees. Turns out the floor level of the cellar is about 2ft. or so above the level of the old Roman road that they were walking on which is why he couldn't see their feet. Believe it or not. I for one would love to see them march past even though it would probably scare the shit out of me.

This weekend was also the beginning of the Rugby World Cup. We have watched probably 4 games or so in the course of the weekend. It's probably the closest thing we have to hand-to-hand combat anymore, somewhat regulated of course. They wear no pads to speak of, no helmets, just mouth guards and, I would hope, cups. There is regularly blood running down people's faces and muscle injuries. The trainers come in, tape them up to stop the bleeding and send them back in. Like Pat says, it makes American football players look like whiny out-of-shape pansies. I think the field is bigger than a soccer field (maybe the same) and the players play the whole game with very few substitutions. They are fit, muscle-bound oxes. Most of them just look scary.

We caught some of the England vs. US game which was expected to be a blowout. The US team aren't professional Rugby players like a lot of the others and I doubt you even heard they were playing at home. They actually did surprisingly well. They gained respect from the announcers and put up a decent fight. The British are very nervous about their chances now. They still beat the US by a substantial amount, don't get me wrong, but they should have steam-rolled them so they're more worried about the better teams now.

I think my favorite part is when the island teams play. They do this warrior dance that's an invitation to do battle. It is so interesting to see these guys do it in unison on the field with their chanting, scary faces, and gesturing. It shows such a great appreciation of their heritage and couldn't be more appropriate for a game like this. I can't wait to see two island teams play eachother so I can see their competing dances. I'm pulling for the All Blacks from New Zealand. They do a warrior dance and seem to be the most fierce, best coordinated team that I've seen so far. It's such a weird combination of brute force and grace.

slowly becoming a person

I think that the quickest way to disappear off the face of the earth is to have your spouse's company relocate you to England. It's pretty easy to not exist in the eyes of anyone, officially. Being married and having the same name apparently doesn't prove you live together. They don't even want to take your money. But I'm sure they'll find me for taxes.

The company sets everything up in the employee's name. The lease, the utilities, etc. A great service, granted, but our bank requires proof of residency to sign up on a joint account, to get a debit card, a credit card. You could have a reference letter from your UK employer, but, ironically, most jobs require proof of residency. Unfortunately, library cards don't work as proof--I was able to get one of those. So one day, we got a very special piece of paper listing our council taxes addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Swindon. That was enough. Now I am a person, albeit Mrs. no name Swindon :)

Before we received this piece of paper, we had found one person at the bank who said having the same last name and being married was enough for a joint account. They were wrong, but no one told us so we wasted 2 weeks or more waiting for credit card that wouldn't come. So I brought in my magic piece of paper and they started the process again. Three weeks later, I have a debit card. Today we went back to find out why I hadn't gotten the credit card we originally asked for. They lost the paperwork. So 5-7 more business days and it will come. We've decided that the bank is the most visited place in York so far. And the internet people are the most frequently called, but that's another blog.

Ah, the jumbled mess of bureaucracy. Alive and well across the pond. So in 5-7 days I should be fully entitled to spend money in England without paying the overseas fees on our US credit cards. Yeah, one down. With official proof of residency, no one can stop me!

Happy Birthday ADAM!!

Whenever I see the red phone booths I think of you and how you used to want one at your house. Surprisingly, even in the cell phone age, they’re still in use. There’s two on my walk into York and I’ve seen them in the smallest towns as we drive through the countryside. We even drove past a phone booth graveyard with faded booths stacked at weird angles on top of eachother. It was sort of sad. The booths are made impressively well and the one I’m in had leather straps acting as hinges to close it.

Hope you have a great day!

the million dollar question

What is it that I do with my time?

Good question. I know you have wondered and some of you have asked (including Pat). So far, a typical day goes kind of like this…

Get up. I’ve actually been getting up before 9 most days since I’m getting real, consistent sleep. No naps. Those really mess you up when you are actually rested.

Shower. I’ve started showering more in the morning since I don’t have anywhere to rush off to. As you know if you have lived or traveled with me or just heard Pat complain, I can make that a lengthy process.

Start the laundry. We’ve already covered that one (see the “laundry theory” blog).

Do the dishes from last night’s dinner.

Do some cleaning if needed. Vacuum, dust, or clean the bathrooms.

Do a crossword puzzle. (optional) Thanks Eileen, my former Landor coworker, for sending me to England fully equipped with entertainment—it has lasted far beyond the plane. I’m starting to get a little addicted to these things.

Get on the internet (if I’m lucky enough to have a connection) to check email, do research, etc.

Eat lunch.

Start the dryer.

Walk to York. I can usually come up with some destination whether I have a mission and am looking for something we need, wandering streets I haven’t been down, window shopping, or taking some of the historical walks. I try to do this at least every other day during the week to break things up. I can usually make this last until 5:00 or so and head home. I haven't gotten into the volunteer mode, but I have given to charity :) I've found that York has an abundance of second-hand stores, like the Snooty Fox in Cincinnati. The ones here all seem to have a cause... multiple sclerosis, the elderly, kids, third world people, cats, you name it. They are run by volunteers and sell donated stuff. The profits are suppose to go to their cause. Thus, I have been able to justify the purchase of a nice sweater and a well-fitting jacket for under 5 pounds each (that's $10). That's sort of the max I'm willing to pay here for stuff I don't really need and even that feels kind of weird since I'm not earning money of my own right now.

Go home. Hang laundry on the drying racks. Start the dryer again.

Write a blog. (optional)

Make dinner when Pat gets home.

Relax in front of the TV with Pat or work some more on my computer, shuffling and editing photos, etc.

Go to bed.

On the weekends we’re out and about so it breaks things up.

I’ve been keeping busy, but yes, it’s kind of a 50s lifestyle. It kills the feminist in me a little bit, but since I’m not working yet there’s no excuse for not doing all of the house stuff. It was a little weird for Pat at first, but he’s not going to fight too much. His job is demanding and the last thing he wants to do when he gets home is cook dinner or do laundry, especially when I’ve been sitting on my ass all day. Things will change if I start working or when we go home so he can’t get too comfortable with it :)

The housework isn’t too bad… I don’t have to deal with the yard (thanks to Casey & Jannelle for taking care of the homefront) and, although we enjoy having them, the worst thing is that we have two bathrooms to clean.

During the week, I also do research for wherever we’re going for the next weekend. I look for hotels for some of the short trips we want to take, etc. A lot of my “job” is information gathering. Once we get a real phone and internet connection, I will be a little more effective in this area.

Pat told me that our sea shipment is in customs and should be delivered Monday. Good news since that’s on the earlier side of what they told us to expect. I’m glad it’s coming before Lauren’s wedding so we know if we need to pick up anything while we’re in the States. You might not hear anything from me next week since I’ll be up to my eyeballs in stuff I have to sort to and put somewhere.

new look, same great blog

If you're looking for Jamie & Pat's UK adventure blog, you're in the right place! It was just time to ditch the standard blog template.

Read on for our adventure this past weekend...

a peak at the Minster

Sunday was a pretty relaxing day at home and we decided to trek into York to have dinner. On the way, we stopped in at the Minster to declare ourselves residents so we can get free access inside.

The Minster is a big gothic church that is (I don't know how many times I've heard it and I don't get out much) "the crowning glory of York." It's claim to fame is that it's the "largest Gothic church north of the Alps." It is fully intact and has services. According to Rick Steves, it survived Henry the VIII because it wasn't attached to a monastery. You can see some of the same features of the surrounding abbeys which are now in ruins.

We made a quick stop in and took a tour of the crypt. I personally think it's a far more interesting crypt than St. Peter's in Rome, but it also has more history. There have been a lot of people traipsing around in York over the years and you can see most of them in the crypt. There were the natives of course, but nobody seems to know anything about them so they're not represented. The Romans founded their provincial capital, Eboracum, here in 71AD. You can see some of the walls and columns from the Roman basilica (army headquarters) in the crypt since the church was built on top. There are even old Roman drains down there with water still flowing. When the Romans moved out in the 5th century, the Anglo Saxons moved in, named it Eoforwic, and made it their capital. I'm a little fuzzy if they're in the crypt. Then came the Vikings who named the city Jorvik. Some of their graves are in the church basement. There's a fancy horn in the crypt/treasury that was given to the religious folk of the time to represent a land deal. Norman's invaded and built a church on the old Roman site. You can see some of the columns and foundations from this church in the crypt as well as some of the graves from its parishioners. The Minster is based on the same plan, but bigger and better--you know how it goes. So then you have the medieval period which is when I think they started the current church, Norman 2.0 They started building in 1220 and finished 252 years later. Now they're in a constant state of conservation and are replicating parts that have deteriorated. I heard someone say that soon there won't be any original parts left because they will have all been replaced. That's definitely evident on some parts of the building.

Ok, so that's the quick synopsis of the history of the Minster. For us tourists, all that really matters is that you can see the inside, go down into the crypt, and climb the central tower. I'll post pictures after we've made it up the tower.

So, dinner. We had a fine meal in a weird place recommended by Rick Steves. It looks very traditional English, has black and white photos of lots of American (and other) famous people on the walls, and sports Tex Mex food. Well, we both ended up with hamburgers. It was the first "American" hamburger I've had here. I know, sounds stupid. Like there was such a thing. Most of the hamburgers I've had over here have stuff in them. Some kind of onion something mixture that gives them a different texture. Good, but different.

The most important thing of the day was that we discovered the British answer to tiramisu (Italian heaven on a plate). It is Sticky Toffee Pudding. Mmmm. It's like a warm slice of bread pudding with caramel sauce and ice cream. There's got to be something else to it because that description doesn't do it justice. Heavenly.

Fountains Abbey & Studley Royal

This past Saturday we traveled about an hour to the booming metropolis of Ripon (just kidding). Just outside of the town is a World Heritage site with "England's most complete monastic ruins, ...medieval deer park and elegant 18th-century water gardens."

We lucked out with the weather again and had beautiful blue skies that only clouded up when we were ready to leave. This time we decided to pack a lunch and eat at the abbey since most of the British use these sites as picnic areas.



Fountains Abbey was founded in 1132 and is another one of Henry the VIII's dissolution victims. Most of the abbeys seem to have gone through multiple stages of decoration/architectural changes as they grew in wealth and the ideals changed. What started off as simple buildings became more ostentatious as the monks decided showing off was a good thing. That's most evident here at the massive bell tower that was added by such an abbot. It is really incredible to stand inside of it and look up. You can look all the way up, since it has no floors, and see the little doorways off of the spiral staircases the monks used for access.


Other than that, some massive stain glass windows (no longer there), and a few other touches, the nave seemed to have retained the austere massiveness of its Norman origins. After seeing Rievaulx, it seemed heavy and plain.


I thought the outbuildings were the most interesting here. I was surprised to see some of the roofs intact since I think Henry's edict was to make the abbeys and their buildings uninhabitable. We were able to walk inside an intact 2-story building with beautiful arched ceilings and what appeared to be original floor tiles on the second floor.


The cellarium (aka cellar) was immense--we estimated 2/3 of a football field. Like it sounds, that's where the monks stored their food. Pat said he could hear the faint beeping of the monks driving their forklifts around. The roof is completely intact and is supported by beautiful stone arches creating a really beautiful warehouse.


After touring the abbey, we walked over to the Studley Royal water gardens. They were created by a guy who acquired the estate in the 1700s. It was like a canal--taking something that used to be wild and manicuring it until it became a geometric representation of itself. It would have been more impressive back in the day when the man-made waterways weren't choked with muck and nastiness. They had statues elegantly placed, but you weren't allowed to get close enough to appreciate them. There were also several little buildings (maybe they call these "follies") where you could imagine rich people hanging out.


Our next stop was for a pot of tea and a scone. Yes, like you might imagine, you can find it everywhere.


On our way home, we stopped at Aldborough Roman Site. They have a few pieces of a fortification wall visible and two shacks in a cow pasture where you can see a Roman villa's floor mosaics where they were found. There is also a small museum with artifacts. After seeing Pompeii, it was a joke. The most interesting thing about it to me was that there was obviously wealth up here. I always thought of England as the wild outskirts of the Roman empire, but there were tons of cities and garrison towns that tried to replicate the comforts of the rest of the empire. Really, they were here for 300 years or so, which seems like a drop in the bucket compared to everything else but is longer than Cincinnati's been in existence.