Day 9 - Chester

Day 9 – Chester

Chester Abby

Chester is a very lovely city that I enjoyed visiting.  It has many cute little shops and places to eat.  I didn’t really do much here other than walk around, take pictures and browse, but I definitely enjoyed my time here.

Something notable about Chester is the apparent lack of crime.  Even in the more industrial area outside of the city centre, I didn’t see so much as a graffiti’ed wall.  No broken windows or anything of that nature.  Even the streets seemed relatively clean.   I like Chester.  

River

It was here we encountered our first Poundland, a fantastic chain that is similar in theory to our dollar stores, except far more useful, and everything actually costs ONE POUND.  I've noticed that our dollar stores range from $1-$15, and is mostly cheap plastic toys, which this place contains useful things like milk, shampoo, cleaning products, and packaged food items.

 

We walked on the Chester walls for awhile, which was delightful in giving us a nice view of the city, parks and the river.

Awesome clock tower in Chester

 We also encountered an awesome pub that had very strict regulations regarding dress and attitude.  I wish I could find something like that here in Leeds, so I could escape the trashy, loud, hammered students in the evenings.  Unfortunately, this establishment wasn't open when we were looking for dinner.

I had a very delicious fast food noodles for dinner.  It was in a pad Thai sauce, with egg, tofu and pineapple bits.  NUM!

You know you're in England, when:

 

Day 8 - London Part II

I’ve almost given up this futile effort of keeping everyone completely filled in of previous exploits, but since I have a three hour train ride ahead of me, back to Leeds from Scotland, I shall see how much I can accomplish in this time.  I’ll begin by recounting the second half of the day of our return to London.


Day 8 – London   Part II

I felt slightly dizzy leaving Holland and Holland, the experience was rather overwhelming.  As a comic relief, I promptly walked by some fancy art gallery, which had this as its prominent display. 

Naturally I walked past, paused, backed up, and peered in, in the cartoon double-take fashion.  I walk up to the door, and ask the door-holder-person if I may enter.  I can, to get a better look at this homoerotic beast.  Yup, it was pretty much what I thought it was, and all the bit fantastic.  I took a quick tour of what else was on display, and found this glittery sequin-covered model of an AK-47.

I don’t get art.

It was a fair distance to Camden market, my next stop, (as recommended by Austin), so I look for buses that are heading that way.  I forgot that the bus stop I originally wanted to take was right across from Holland and Holland in my daze, and I was already a few blocks away from there.  I ask a lady at a bus stop, who happened to be American in origin, but has lived in London for 10 years. She was happy to help me find my way, and apparently lives near Camden market.  She shows me the way, and thank goodness for it, because there is a small flea market titled, “Camden Market” that I might have mistaken for the actual thing, and would have been promptly disappointed.

Camden Market is to the right

 I crossed a bridge, and took this little picture because I thought the canal was cute.

I enter the market alone.  It is predominately indoors, which creates a confining shell of this euphoria of overwhelming sensations.  Camden Market is a sensory overload.  It is a plethora of small booths all crammed close to each other.  Each booth is completely overfilled with products as the vendors shove as much Chinese factory made merchandise as they possibly can into their allotted space, giving you far too much to look at, (sight).  Bright colours everywhere, while the market place itself is dimly lit (sight).  Every third booth or so has a different type of music playing (sound). Every fourth or fifth booth is burning a different type of incense (smell).  Naturally, at the clothing booths I’m interested in, I need to touch the fabrics of all the pieces to feel the materials (touch).  People are smoking hookas (smell).  The place is filled with talking, chattering and shouting (sound).  Passing through the food vendors, aromas of Chinese, and Indian dominate (smell).  The food vendors shout at me specifically to test and buy their food products (sound).  After shouting “Vegetarian!” at two food vendors who are offering me mystery-meat Chinese products, I enter a vortex of three other food vendors shouting at me from different directions at the same time, and I end up (literally) running through that area to get away from them.

Camden Market is the exact opposite of Holland and Holland, in every way, while both manage to create the similar overloading anxieties within me.

Um, OK then.

I read this sign (shown left) at a military style vendor, and I’m still not entirely sure what it’s referring to

I am very delighted, however, by the quantity and variety of gothic clothing vendors available.  We have four, maybe five places that sell these things in all of Vancouver (if I’m wrong, please let me know where else to shop!) , while I walked past half a dozen here within one block of each other.  The prices were all very reasonable too, making me partially relieved that I had no money on me, least I have spent my living/food money on corsets.  I did get the business cards of a couple places, so I might browse them online when I’m more settled down in Leeds.  (Although, I have a sneaking suspicion that some of those vendors imported from the same Asian factories).

I explained my surprise about the quantity of these shops to one of the gentlemen running one of the gothic booths, saying, “there’s only about two places like this in my entire city!” (incorrect in hindsight), and he responds, “let me guess what city, Toronto?”  I’m a little surprised, and ask, “No, Vancouver, but how did you know I’m Canadian?” and he claims that our accent is softer than that of Americans, and we can be differentiated by that.  Cool!  Not even most Canadians or Americans can do that.

And such concludes the evening of day 8, and I head back to the B&B in Barnes.

You know you’re in England when:

YOUR NAME IS WALDO, AND YOU KNOW IT!

Is it too late for me to go through a Gothic phase?  I really regret not doing this in high school, and I LOVE the clothing styles

Edinburgh - Arthur's Seat

As a forward, I apologize for the lack of nice photos in this post.  I don't have my camera USB with me, so I can only post pictures from my iPhone, of which are lesser in quality, and are many less to choose from.  I'm afraid I don't do the hill justice. I will post better pictures when I return to Leeds, in the same way I did for Dumbleton Hall Hotel.

Edinburgh – Arthur’s Seat

Arthur’s Seat has been by far the highlight of my trip to Edinburgh so far.  The experience was whimsical, and almost magical, despite it raining on me the entire climb.

Despite the ominous grey clouds, and the falling rain, I knew that this was something I needed to do in Edinburgh.  It took me quite a long walk just to reach the base of the hill, so I was already fairly damp before I had even begun.  I approached it from the west side, with steps leading up to the trail.  It was a very steep beginning, so even after five minutes I was already impressed with the altitude I had gained.  Shortly up the way, I ran into a women looking at snails, and quickly discovered that she is an environmental geochemist from Massachusetts.  She had a printout guide from one of the local universities, and together we explored the different geological features of the extinct volcano. 

We walked along the Salisbury Crags, pausing whenever we noticed contacts between the sedimentary bedrock and the intrusive sill.  The heat and pressure from the intrusion caused some notable deformation in the underlying strata, and we took pictures of some of the folding, (on my camera,).

The Hutton Section!

We then came across Hutton’s Rock, named for the conservation efforts supported by James Hutton, (father of modern geology), in preserving the crags from the quarrying that was taking place.  The government halted the quarrying, and the hematite vein which intruded the sill remains today.

Next, we walked over the Hutton Section, which was one of the most exciting features for both of us  We might have missed it, were it not for a plaque.  The Hutton Section is one of the areas where there is visible disruption of the sandstone due to the intrusion of the volcanic sill.  He wrote about these observations when formulating his theories of uniformitarianism, and thereby disproving the previous doctrine.

SO COOL!  -Squee!-

After that we parted ways.  She wanted to investigate some ripple marks and desiccation cracks (NOT syneresis cracks, Dr. MacEachern), while I wanted to climb up to the summit.

So I did.

The other geologist lady went over there

But I was determined to get up there

The stones were slippery, the hills were grassy and wet, the wind became stronger each step I took, and oddly the fields were covered in herbivore droppings.  But I made it.  The grassy areas came as a relief after the treacherous slippery bedrock.  To climb the finally summit, I needed to climb the wet bedrock again, this time with little to no path.  I went up eroded waterways, which were actively draining the rainfall.  I climbed on, and as I did, heavy clouds and fog rolled in.  When I made it to the top, I was surrounded by cloud, unable to see any of the city below me, nor even the grassy hill I had just left.  Wind howled past my ears as I stood alone and a bit cold, rain still coming down.  My boots [and pants (TROUSERS)] had gotten wet by this point, and I had left my waterproof coat back in Leeds.  But, I wasn’t cold enough to be miserable, which was very much appreciated.  An old man climbed up the way I did, acknowledged me, told me I should have something on my head, and hiked down over the other side.  I couldn’t see where we went, as the cloud was too thick. 

I dared not go down an unfamiliar route, so I very carefully stepped slowly down the rock face I had just climbed.  I needed to use my hands to prevent slipping (and splattering my head on the stone), and carefully made my way back down.  From there I climbed the second highest point, which was much easier due to the grass and less steep incline.  I decide to head back down from the East, as I remember reading that it is an easier trail.  As I start my decline, I see nice stone steps leading up to the first summit from the other side.  

Bugger.

I continue down, thankful for the soft vegetation, which was much more welcoming in the case of a fall, and take my time to admire the sights.  The cloud begins to clear somewhat (though still raining) and I have a wonderful panoramic view of Edinburgh. 

I suppose it helps add to the wonder the fact that I just started to read, The Fellowship of the Ring and the rolling hills of Scotland definitely feel like the Shire.  I also saw a bunny hop by me!  I barely saw the flash of its white tail, before bounding into the bush. I looked for him, and saw him briefly before he hopped further into the shrubbery. 

Beautiful Rolling hills

Ruins!

I felt very joyous during the descent, and then gasped with glee (yes, really,) when I came across the ruins of a chapel.  I felt even more awesome when I realized that these must be the ruins that Robin and Bryan came across on their trip to Edinburgh.  I wanted to climb into the window, and pose like Robin’s Facebook picture, but 

1) it was very, very slippery,

and

2) I had no one to take my picture even if I did.

So, I set the 10 second timer on my camera, and took some pictures of me in the doorway of the ruins. 

Hiking down further, I saw the bright green raincoat of the women I met before, and hurried to catch up with her.  We swapped stories of the desiccation cracks she saw, and the climb and ruins I enjoyed, and I walked back with her to the train station, before heading back to Kaitlyn’s flat to warm up. 

Happy.

Today was awesome.
 

Clubs Days are Crazy Days

So, the past couple days have been crazy with all the student societies setting up crowded booths to get new participants.  I have have gone overboard.

Clubs I am now on the e-mailing list for:

Circus Society
Speleological Society
Mountaineering Club
Dancesport Club - Ballroom and Latin Dance Society
Tae-kwon-do (ITF, not WTF,  weird)
Rifle Club
Officer Training Corps
National Trust Association (not a club, but worth mentioning)
Polo Society
Vegetarian Club
Boardgames Society
A Capella Choir

So, uh, a little overwhelming.  I turned down my audition time for the a capella choir, and I don't plan on following through with tae-kwon-do, but I'm not sure what else I'll need to drop.

I honestly want to try all the other things.

Circus Society is a must; I really want to do more poi.  The boy I spoke with was even talking about how he wants to coordinate some "group" poi.  He handed me a poi, and walked me through a partner weave, and I was amazed at how intuitive it actually was.  (We did a poi technique together, each of us holding one poi and weaving our arms around each other).

Shush... I think it would be really classy to learn ballroom dancing...  :)

As far as the Polo Society needs to know, yes, I am a confident rider.  *cough cough*
Really, the question she asked was, "Are you confident riding a horse?"  Heck yes I am.  Have I ever ridden in an English saddle?  Nope.  Can I do any sharp maneuvering?  Hell no.  But I'm confident! So, really, I didn't lie.  Right?  We'll see how this goes.

As for everything else, we'll see what I have time for.  Jaime highly recommended I try the local caving around Leeds, so I definitely want to check out the Speleological Society.

Hurray for participating!

P.S.  Other clubs I have information for, are Judo, Self-Defence, Pentagram Society and some weird running thing.

Day 8 - Return to London Part 1

Okay, I'm really sorry if I leave things out, or don't write in as much detail as I should, but I've been very stressed with the moving, and my memory is getting a little fuzzy.


Day 8 - London

Part 1 - Holland and Holland



Matthew and I returned to London, from Windsor, where we were happy to encounter the familiar transit.  Tired from our excursions, we were pleased to return to the B&B in Barnes, which had almost become a form of home base for us.  We were equally happy to discover that our rooms had been upgraded, given that we were the only clientele Stella received for the evening.

Matthew spend the day in, sorting out his personal travel planning, while I decided to dress up and hit the town.

I had two goals in mind for the day, Holland and Holland, an upper class store highly recommended for me to visit by Donald, and the Camden Market, a crowded collection of booths on the opposite, fringe end of the spectrum, recommended by my cousin Austin. 

I took the train in to Waterloo, then transferred to the underground, which took me within a few blocks of Holland and Holland.  I was pleased with myself, being able to easily navigate London transportation.

Upon leaving the station, I walk pass the Ritz Hotel, and make my way up the streets for a couple blocks.  I admire the class and dignity associated with these boutiques and stores, very high end indeed!  I think to myself, "Wow, I must be in the Ritzy part of town! ... Oh, right,". 

As I get close to Holland and Holland, I start to get very nervous.  I check to make sure all my clothing is sitting right, and that I look decent.  I begin to realize that I probably look very out of place, but I hadn't come this far to back out now.

I enter the store.  Well, that is an understatement, because a gentleman in a suit opened the glass door for me, and I'm promptly greeted by four other men in suits. 

"Can I help you?"  asks one.
"May I admire your wares?" I inquire with less confidence than I ought to have.
"Certainly," he responds with a smile.

Then they promptly ignore me.

Okay.  So I'm out of place, but they are tolerating my presence, maybe?

I don't know.  I don't know how these things work, but it certainly reminds me of when Auntie Marlene changed her shoes before entering a Parisian Gucci(?) establishment, so they would take her seriously.  I now understand why.

The place is outstanding.  Absolutely wonderful.  Everything is very neatly placed, there are stuffed pheasants perched on shelves, a table made in a ring of deer antlers. 

I'm not even really sure how to describe the place.  I sneaked a couple of photos off of my camera, but they really don't do the place justice.

So, if you're curious, watch the video from their website instead.

http://www.hollandandholland.com/

This video definitely catches the feel of the place.  All the scenes that took place inside the store (mostly at the beginning) are things that I saw.  I was there.  Wow.  I want more money.

So, I took a few walks around the clothing areas, before starting to look at the guns.  The craftmanship on them is incredible.  I was disappointed to see that there were only hinge-action shotguns and bolt action rifles.  Silly English gun laws

Here's the price tag on the most expensive I found

Here are some of the incredible hing-action shot guns

Now, after viewing that price tag, keep in mind that this is in Pounds, so multiply by 1.6 to get the price in CAD.  Now, multiply by 1.2, because the tag does not include the 20% VAT (service tax).

So, now imagine my surprise, when a young man my age, 20 years old, just waltzes in and buys a nice gun.

I checked his coat, and at least felt better because he had elbow patches, like the tweed jacket I was wearing.  Maybe I do blend in somwhat.

After he left, the staff talked about how he's, "such a nice boy," and how he's from Italy, and is just spending some time in London, shopping, meeting girls, buying toys, and when he needs more money he just calls his parents and they send him more.

I...  You always hear of this, but, I didn't realize that it actually happens until I saw it.  He's my age, and just bought a gun that was probably, (given the average price there, not the most expensive) about $100 000 CAD.  Just like that.  Sure, he tried it out and stuff, and had probably been trying it out for a couple visits before the final purchase, but, wow.  Just like that. 

I asked one of the men in suits about the metallurgy of the some of the shot guns.  I thought the assorted colours were from a patina, but it is apparently part of the hardening process of the steel.  I then asked if there were any semi-automatic rifles, and was promptly disappointed.  This engaged a short conversation about Canadian vs. English gun laws.  

After thanking him, I browsed more, and found this vest I really liked:

 

Pretty...

Squee!

But, here's the price tag

So, of COURSE I had to try it on!

Yeah, that was easily the most audacious thing I've done all trip.  I tried on the $2000 vest, absolutely terrified of damaging it the entire time.  But, my, it really looked good.

I thanked the gentlemen helping me, and said, "I'll have to think about it, maybe next time,".

That was fun.

They barely even looked at me when I left.

Beginning in Leeds

Considering how incredibly behind I am with the posts of traveling with Matthew, (there are two left, before Leeds), I'd like to give a brief synopsis of my residence experience so far.





Pros Living in Bodington Hall

• High water pressure in shower
• Surrounded by other international students
• Nice people I'm living with
• Bed is okay
• Heater works
• Nice staff
• Wild bunnies hopping around

Cons of Living in Bodington Hall

• High water pressure in showers begins to hurt after 5 mins.
• Small space
• Every room is very closed off from other rooms
• Zero soundproofing
• Very, very far away from the University
• Even further away from the city
• In the middle of nowhere
• Ran out of hot water in the shower
• Black mold in the shower
• Very ugly, puke-y yellow green doors
• No British people
• Very crammed
• Incredibly small shower stall, with no place to put your things
• No way to turn the heater off, so it gets sweltering very quickly
• I wanted an ensuite, and I got this place

I want to move, but I'm not allowed to apply until the 1st of October.