Living the Life of Luxury

That's what people do in the small city of Bath. It's what they did 200 years ago and it's what they do today. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I don't know that anyone would try to convince you differently about the 200 years ago, but it applies for today as well. I mean, come on! It's a city known for it's amazingly hot and "healing" spas. How stressful can life really be? I know it sure calmed Brittany, Liahna and me down after our adventure through Wales on trains.

Our first full day in Bath we steered clear of any form of public transportation, be it buses or trains (Bath really isn't big enough to warrant a subway or other form of mass transit system). Instead we wandered around the city, stopping at the tourist information center and picking up about a hundred free brochures (yes I did feel like I was a little kid again just grabbing anything and everything). We also ate lunch by these big wire-like statues of rabbit and minotaur heads. 

By then it was 2 pm and time for our free tour of Bath. It was led by a sweet lady probably in her late 50s or early 60s. So it wasn't quite as entertaining as the tour of Edinburgh led by a 20-something guy. But then again, when in Rome...(or Roman baths). So I guess an exuberant, energizing tour of Bath would have been a little out of place. The day was really nice and Bath was a beautiful city, so of course I forgot my camera in the hostel. Because only I would. But we walked around the old city of Bath and learned about how the city planners got all the rich people of importance in British society to come there to cure their "ailments" while the poor and truly sick had to wait in line. Not that the spa waters probably would have done them any good in the first place, but shhh they don't like to tell that part of the story. We also learned all about John Nash. No not the slightly mental mathematician portrayed by Russell Crowe, but the Gregorian/Victorian British architect who practically designed most of historic Bath (aka the Royal Crescent and the Circus). These two lines of buildings are two of the most famous pieces of architecture in the whole of Britain, and since I didn't have my camera, I stole these pictures below from Google to show them to you:

The Royal Crescent

The Circus

Bath, as you may or may not know, was also at one point in time the home of one of my favorite authors: Jane Austen. So naturally some of her books took place, at least partially, in her city, the two chief ones being Northanger Abbey and Persuasion. Bath is mentioned in some of the others, but the city itself never plays a role. So when on the tour we went inside the Assembly Rooms, lets just say my heart skipped a beat or two. Or three. And I kind of hoped that Mr. Tilney would bump into me and then ask me to dance. So I could fall madly in love with him despite his horrible father and brother. And the fact that he's a pastor (nothing against the profession, but...). And if Mr. Tilney weren't around, Captain Wentworth would do just fine for me, thanks. But alas, no stunningly good looking, witty men appeared. Just the old ones with their wives on the tour. No thank you.

The next day we got up bright and early to visit Stonehenge. What a waste of 20 pounds. The bus ride there was cool and all, but we went the same way there and back, so we saw all the same stuff twice. And then it was cold and rainy, so we had  to get soaked to see the thing itself. Which, when all is said and done, is just a bunch of rocks. I don't care how they got there or that the stones had to have been transported hundreds of miles waaay before the invention of the steam engine (or the birth of Christ but whatever). No, I cared that my North Face was not waterproof and the wind was too strong for my umbrella to be of any use. And that I was now 20 pounds poorer and the coolest thing I got to see was some sheep up close. Ooh...

After the disappointment that was Stonehenge, we went back to Bath and chilled the rest of the day in a Starbucks reading, what else, Harry Potter. For a long while. And it was amazing. As opposed to getting wet and shilling out money to see stones standing up. Carhenge in Nebraska was at least aesthetically interesting. Stonehenge was just boring. Aliens or no.

Friday dawned bright and not so early for us, as we were catching a 10:40 train to Oxford. And it was raining again. We walked around the town and purchased some spiffy Oxford sweatshirts before actually looking at the colleges themselves. Well, first we went in the science museum, where I saw some equation Einstein had written when he was there. Big whoop. But the astronomy and technology stuff was kind of cool. So after the museum we trucked it to Christ Church, which is not a church at all but one of the colleges. See, Oxford, just like Cambridge, is not one university but a collection of colleges within the university. And Christ Church is one of them. But more importantly, it's mentioned in the History Boys, so really that's all that matters.

After seeing Christ Church we went to the local McDonald's where we got pushed and shoved around by crazy Britons. And then went back to Bath, where we visited the other local coffeehouse: Costa Coffee. It was supposed to have free WiFi, and indeed the previous post was written using it, but alas it wasn't working. So we paid for food and coffee in return for the means of downloading/watching and it all came to nothing. But my food and coffee was really good.

That last night in Bath we went on the Bizarre Bath tour. Unlike the first Bath tour this one was neither free nor historically based. Instead it cost a few pounds and took us around the city in a fun, intellectually numbing fashion. In fact really the only part of the tour about Bath or anyone associated with it was the guide's multiple references to John Nash (once again not Russell Crowe's John Nash) and his awesome architectural style. Other than that it was a combination of practical and sexual jokes for an hour and a half. There were younger people on the tour, but the inappropriate jokes all went straight over their heads. Which are the best kinds of inappropriate jokes anyways. The tour was recommended by Rick Steves, and although he mostly just talks about museums to see in his books, he was spot on in this case. Well worth the money.

And that was the end of Bath. We left early the next morning for London and our hostel-free experience there thanks to one of the members of Liahna's crew team back home. Chad - you rock. But all that will have to wait until I update my blog about London (the second time around) which will happen either tomorrow night or after my Irish gov paper is written. Can't decide yet. But tomorrow is our last day in the United Kingdom, which makes me sad and happy at the same time.

"My Ears get confused, and then Fran comes out"

Scotland is more interesting than England. And the English are boring. This is what we've decided after our time here. It's cool and all, I mean it is England, but way overrated. I'm soo happy I decided not to study here. But there has been one upside to coming here: Fountains Abbey.

But first I should probably explain my title. Brittany is sick, and her ears are clogged, and so apparently she has an excuse to talk like Fran Drescher, from The Nanny. I feel no pity for her since she made fun of me the entire month I was sick and coughing up my lungs, but it is kind of funny to hear some of the way she's saying certain things. 

But back to Fountains Abbey. It was a Cistercian monastery that was dissolved by Henry VIII during his rampage against the Catholic Church that wouldn't let him get divorced. And was also featured in the History Boys, which is actually why it's cool, let's be honest. We visited this amazingly gorgeous place on Monday and it's a good thing Liahna is a good sport, because I probably wouldn't have been able to put up with two other people oohing and ahing at rocks on the ground and stuff. Not to mention the long trip to get there. After three hours of sleep the night before because of crazy drunken Belgians next door the night before. Who were partying it up until 4:30 am when the night worker at the hostel finally came up and told them to shut it. But we had to get up at 5 am to catch a train to Leeds, to catch a bus to Ripen, to catch a bus to the Abbey. Let's just say that I slept most of the travel time.

But Fountains, as I've already stated, was amazing. We took a tour from this old dude who seemed enthralled by everything there, which made it interesting. Plus my High and Late Middle Ages history class last semester really came in handy. When all we did was talk about Cistercian monks, etc etc and the monastery was Cistercian. So thanks Dr. Dugan for your awesome class because it made everything our guide said that much more cool, since it made sense and all and wasn't pointless rambling. Plus, I kind of felt like I was on a tour with an older, less attractive version of Irwin (which will make sense to no one unless you've seen HB, and let's face it you probably haven't). So that made it fun as well.

It was kind of cold and windy, but in the sun it wasn't bad. We had stolen bread and jelly from our hostel and made PB&J, which we ate in the ruins of the infirmary sheltered from the wind by the remains of rock walls. It was pretty cool. Then we wandered around some more, until it was time to catch the very unfrequent bus back to Ripen, then catch another bus back to Leeds.

Here we ate fish and chips (which I did for the first time in Europe). It was really good, but really greasy, and since I hadn't eaten much else the rest of the day it did funky things to me. But nothing that a few pieces of good ol' free toast and tea at the hostel couldn't clear right up for me!

Oh side note, our bus back to Leeds was a double-decker (as was our one from Leeds for that matter) and we sat on the top deck right in front. Oohing and waving at people when we weren't asleep. Yes, we are in fact those people. And we're not embarrassed to admit it.

On Tuesday we wandered down to the Manchester Museum to see the Lindow Man, who was discovered near Manchester in 1984 preserved in a bog, probably buried there for about 2000 years. He was all leathery and weird. And missing most of his body between his upper torso and one of his legs. The rest was gone. The exhibit itself wasn't all that interesting, but the rest of the museum (which was free) was. We got to see this huge spider crab, which kind of freaked Brittany out, plus a whole bunch of stuffed animals, which we all found really interesting. Then we moved on to some live animals, then a little thing on how they re-create faces (like in Bones, which I find intriguing), and an exhibit on money, which I pretty much blindly walked through I was so hungry. So to curb my cravings, we walked back up to our hostel and ate more PB&J on stolen bread in Piccadilly Garden. Then we had some time to kill, so we thought we'd shop near our hostel. Except all of the stores were wholesale shops, so we couldn't go in. It was really disappointing because we'd really been wanting to go into one the whole time we were in Manchester. Stupid wholesale retailers. Who does that? So we wandered around Manchester not near our hostel, until 3 pm when we went to get our stuff and head to the train station.

This is where my story gets interesting. We were supposed to have 4 hours of travel time between Manchester and Bath, first going to Newport South Wales, and then to Bath. Except our train lost it's driver at Crew (wherever that is) so we had to go to Shrewsbury instead. Then from Shrewsbury we had to go to Birmingham. Where the train we were supposed to catch to Bristol Temple was canceled. So we had to wait for another one. To get to Bristol, then to get to Bath. Two hours late. And we didn't know where our hostel was. So we arrived in Bath around 10 pm, slaphappy, exhausted, hopped up on horrible trains that get lost in train purgatory that is Wales. But we eventually made it, even if we did scare off most of the English people who unfortunately were around us. Sorry. 

Today, tomorrow and Friday we're in Bath, then we head to London. Tomorrow we plan on going to Stonehenge, then the next day we're daytripping it to Oxford to feel all prestigious or something. Or dumb. Whichever. But it should be cool. We're excited at least!

Welcome to Scotland, my lovelies!

That was what greeted Brittany, Liahna and me when we hopped on our tour bus for a fun-filled day adventuring the Scottish Highlands on Friday (our first full day in Scotland). But to start at the beginning:

We left Ireland on Thursday around 5:30 pm and arrived in Edinburgh (pronounced Edinburough for all of you non-Europeans out there) around 6:40, getting us to our hostel a little after 7. Our taxi driver was our typical older man. If your typical older man is an adorable Scottish one (and one who actually knows where Missouri is!). He was able to tell us a little about the city and the area where we were going to be staying, as well as how to get to the Old City, so all in all it was well worth the money to deliver us right at the front door(s) of our hostel. Which was an old church. Yes, you read it correctly - an old church. As cool as it sounds, it was actually kind of annoying. An experience I'm happy to have had, but you think it echoes loudly when you're in church? Try to actually sleep in there, not just doze during the sermon. When the loud Argentinians next door (if you can call it that since none of the rooms had ceilings, just walls) won't shut up at 3 am. Yeah. Not fun. And the showers were in the basement. It was an odd feeling walking back up with a towel wrapped around my wet hair, especially when the door back up is right by where the alter used to stand. Hello, God. How's it going today? Awkward...

But Edinburgh was gorgeous. The first night we found our handy-dandy McDonalds with free WiFi and planned out our stay there. We spur of the moment decided to take a day-long bus tour of the Highlands (including Loch Ness of course). Which is where the quote from above comes in. It was said by our hilarious, long lost Scottish cousin/tour guide who chauffered us around in his Mercedes (bus...but whatevs) for 12 hours. And boy was it totally worth it! The morning was really foggy, and we were kind of scared it wasn't going to clear up, but by our first stop in the small town of Pitlochry it was starting to lift (or 'burn off'' as Chris our tour guide said). Here we grabbed some coffee/hot chocolate at the Cafe Chocolate and then were on our way once more.

Our next stop was by some loch - don't remember which one - but of course it was amazing! The next stop, for lunch, was at Loch Ness, where I'm sorry to say nothing monsterish appeared to us. Except for the multiple 'replicas' they've built around the place. We picniced right on the waterfront and then took a nap along the canal lock system that feeds into the loch. It was sunny and pretty and totally made my day. And a little adorable fishing boat was working its way up the canal, so that was fun and interesting to watch!

After lunch we headed on our way back south, stopping in some small town for whiskey tasting, which we decided not to partake of, and then stopped once more at Glencoe, which is the site of Hagrid's cabin in HP 3/4 in the movies, as well as the inspiration for Mordor in Lord of the Rings. We had a nerd moment and took pictures with this amazing scenery as our backdrop. It really was jawdropping. I didn't think land like this existed anywhere. That was our last stop of the day, and we arrived back in the city center around 7:30 pm. Here are some quotes from Chris:

- 'You know the orcs from Lord of the Rings? *orc noise* That's what the Highland women were like. Can you imagine the men?'

- 'We don't hate the English - we hate the Beckhams.'

- 'I'll tell you about Uncle Mel later...'
and then:
- 'No, William Wallace was not some 2' 5" Australian-American. He was huuge!'
and then passing a midget horse:
- 'Look! See that horse! That was Mel's horse. They had to choose a little one to make him look big!'
- Then anything mean about the English, pretty much voiding his statement about the Beckhams. This was one nationalistic Scottish man, my friends. But hilarious just the same, probably because of it actually.

The next day we woke up early and visited our first Starbuck's on the British Isles. Where I read my first newspaper since January and leaving the US. I felt at home, that's for sure. At 11 am we hopped on the free walking tour of Edinburgh with our guide Andrew, who was not quite as entertaining as Chris had been, but he did the job well. The day was cold and windy, and threatened to rain most of the morning until it actually did mid-afternoon. But the tour was really cool and took us to places we would have seen but known nothing about otherwise. For instance, we learned about two Irish men who loved to kill people and then sell their bodies to the University for money to go and get hammered with. Of course they would. Because that's what the Irish do. And only now can I fully appreciate this story and find it not only funny but believeable as well.

In the afternoon all three of us bought various books pertaining to Harry Potter, because we're in his birthplace after all. Respect, people, respect. And then went to the Elephant Cafe, where he really was born. As much as a fictional character can be at least. And then, like the nerds we are, we took a picture of us reading our newly purchased books in the cafe before quickly fleeing the scene.

And that brought us to the close of Edinburgh. This morning we hopped on a bus to Manchester, making a pit stop in Glasgow for half an hour, and arrived here a little before 4 pm. We checked in, meeting one of our multiple Aussie roommates along the way (only to meet others later...what's with the Australians? The Irish loove their soaps, and apparently the Aussies love the UK...). Then we planned out our stay in Manchester and went to eat dinner. Not at McDonalds surprisingly but at a real restaurant with nice silverware and plates that get washed instead of thrown away after use. Odd for us. And really refreshing.

Then we hit up the local Tesco (which brought on waves of comfort just like any time I see a Spar store) for PB and apples to eat tomorrow for lunch on our planned picnic at an old, run down abbey out in the middle of nowhere. It's a History Boys thing, so...yeah. We plan on stealing some slices of bread from the hostel, since toast and tea are free 24/7. Really, it's not stealing since if we were here we'd probably eat that many slices of bread anyways. In my mind at least.

And that's really it. It's a lot like Ireland, but a lot different too. The Manchester accent is really hard to understand, even harder than James' Sligo accent I think (!!), especially in a crowded restaurant. But the Scottish one was heavenly! And made me realize that the only accent I don't think I could ever fake is the Irish one. What makes it so hard to replicate I don't know, but there's something about it. Whenever I try it just sounds like I'm immitating Bob Marley or something. Not normally what I'm going for...

We're here in Manchester until Tuesday night when we board our first UK train (yay for trains instead of buses! Brings back good memories of most of Germany oddly enough...) to Bath. We're in Bath for three days and four nights, during which time we plan on going to Stonehenge and Wales. The rest is yet to be decided. From there it's off to London for two nights and then back to Ireland and UL and classes. Yay...? I'll try to update this again between now and then! And then put up pictures of our UKing adventures eventually.