I'M BACK!!!
Oh the road, you temptress, you possessor of men and women alike. Once again you have seduced me to touch down upon your sweet, asphalic surface. In a quite spontaneous and delightful offer, my friend Tiana invited me to come with her to New York for a week of scattered performances and parties, and my friend David offered to pay my bus fare. Too good to refuse! So this evening Tiana, myself, and a dozen Montreal bagels (yum) will be heading onto the greyhound bus for my very first trip to New York city. I've intentionally asked Tiana very little about our itinerary for the week, because I'm looking forward to a flurry of surprise events. But Tiana and her partner Joseph are two of the most eccentric, fun, and lively people I know, so this should be a blast.
As for what I've been up to in the months since I've last posted, I will oh so briefly recap that time. I came to Montreal to visit my friend Will, found the city to my liking, and decided to stay. Will hated his roommates and wanted to move, so the two of us found a 4 month sublet in the St. Henri section of Montreal and have been living together since then. Through the connections of Will and the glorious openness of this city, I quickly made a solid group of friends that keep me constantly entertained. I've volunteered for the Fringe Festival, meeting many theatre types and seeing many shows for free. I've also begun making and selling aprons in the shape of cocktail dresses that I think are just precious. Not long after moving here I found a job working for a company called Jesco, and all my high hopes for the work quickly fettered away until I was left with a slow-growing bitterness towards the job that eventually forced me to quit. So now I'm off on a brief adventure, and then will be finding more work when I get back.
La vie est belle!
Monday, July 13, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
All good things...
I really wanted to wrap up the last of my adventure blogging while I was still overseas, but my madcap final days kept me so occupied that I didn't get that chance. I've had many chances since returning to Canada to finish the tales of my overseas adventure, but I found the thought a little bit too depressing in my re-adjustment to Canada. However, I have far too much dedication to the several, possibly dozens of, people that are avid readers of my blog. For you, dear readers, I shall endure the heartache of talking about adventures past while I sit in frozen Canadian present. As always, I'll begin where I left off.
The 4-hour express train ride from Athens to Thessaloniki was a real spectacle to behold. Taking a morning-midday train was definitely the best of plans because I had a well-lit territorial show to behold through the smudged train window. Greece, like Spain, contains a schizophrenic assortment of visual wonders. The sights switched up every few minutes, so though I quickly got tired of sitting still, I never got tired of staring out the window. Arriving in the afternoon on what turned out to be a cloudy and miserable looking day, I hastened to the beautiful ancient Roman Kamala archway in the centre of the city. There I met my couchsurfing host Stephania, a tiny and vivacious University student who is fairly new to couchsurfing. We waited at the arch to meet a few of her friends, then walked en masse to "the squat" where Stephania lives with two of her friends.
On the way over I learned the history of where they live. "The squat" is not a clever name, it is in fact a building that they are squatting in. Because there are many people who can't afford to rent or buy their own houses in Greece, they have fabulously lenient squatting laws, and under such laws Stephania and her friends came to occupy their current dwelling. They live in what was once a portable classroom housed in a complex of like buildings, all of which are covered in graffiti from nearby art students. The University where Stephania goes to school owns all of these buildings, and they are similar to our "portables" in Canada, only bigger. Many are still used for classrooms, but most are either abandoned or inhabited by squatters. Stephania and friends converted their squat into a half-living space (2 bedrooms, one common room, one small kitchen, one bathroom) and half juggling studio. Oh, did I mention that all of Stephania's friends are jugglers? I probably should have said something about that.
The squat was designed in the hopes of giving local jugglers a free place to practice, trade tricks, hold shows and lessons, and crash if they need to. Everyone I've told about this place has asked me if I learned to juggle while I was there, so I'll address that now in saying that no, I don't know how to juggle. I did learn to toss and catch one pin with something resembling skill, but Ivan the Chezch fire-juggler told me that it's not juggling until you have at least three of something. I'm a long way away from juggling, it seems. W arrived at the squat and there was already a large crowd of locals assembled. Some juggling, some talking, most smoking. I never could really get used to the constant chain-smoking of many Greeks. Noxious fumes aside, everyone I met at the squat was amazingly friendly, incredibly skilled, and no two seemed to come from the same country. Welcome to the international house of juggling!
Because of the miserable weather and fact that little goes on a Sunday night, I spent most of my first night hanging indoors, but I did go out for a walk down to the famous Thessaloniki harbour to see sunset over the water. On my way back to the squat I stopped for a vegetarian souvlaki, then barely got lost on the way back (for me this is a big bonus). After a night of talking and then watching a Chezch mime film, I fell into a heavy sleep along with a handful of friends that were crashing in the living room that night. The next morning I woke up, and after hanging at the squat for a while with everyone who had crashed there, I went with Stephania and Ivan to the food hall that they called "Big Mama". The University food hall gave free lunch and dinner to all the students and they never checked to see if people were really students of the school. Needless to say, this was severely taken advantage of. Who cares, free food!
After eating I went to quickly check my email and update my blog at the school library, then Stefania took me to a square surrounded by the ruins of the ancient city wall where she and her friends always go for coffee. At that point Stefania had to go to class, so after a quick frappé, I headed off on my own. The first thing I did was walk to the Aristotle square, where there are many little market stand selling everything from fresh spices to tacky clothes. I continued walking around the downtown core, then hopped a bus to the train station so I could buy a return ticket to Athens for the next day. For some reason you can't buy a return ticket to and from somewhere in Greece, you have to buy the two tickets separately. Strange.
After making my purchase at the train station I took a bus back downtown, then followed the old city wall up the large hill that sits in the middle of Thessaloniki and to the top where there is a large castle-like fort belonging to the wall that is very much intact. climbed up the wall and onto the fort and sat looking out at the mind-blowing view of half the city, then water as far as the horizon. It was amazingly intoxication to sit on something so ancient and take in such a view. I then went to a cafe in the old village that sits atop the hill, then watched the sunset over the city before I began my descent. I returned to the squat, and Stefania was still at school, so after we went to Big Momma for dinner Ivan took me with him to a store his friends own downtown that sells all juggling supplies. I had never before given much thought to the life of a juggler, but now I was completely immersed in their world. It was an amazing experience, and a great new perspective. When we got back to the squat the place was bustling with people and I spent a great deal of time learning to juggle one pin. Needless to say, I am not a prodigy when it comes to juggling. Stefania got word from some of her friends that there was a good ska band playing downtown, so we headed to a ridiculously small bar downtown that was completely overflowing with people to hear the band play.
Although most things are cheap there, drinks aren't, so I abstained from drinking on account of having no resources left. Irregardless, it was a lovely time spent watching the Greek ska band, then heading to the outdoor area of the bar (which was actually just the alley outside filled with people drinking) and talking with Setfania's friends until the early hours of the morning. One thing that is of fantastic note about Greek people (more significantly those up North) is that they heavily use "Malaka" as a familiar term. Malaka basically means wanker, but they use it as a familiar term, as a term of endearment, as an insult, anything! Conversing with all the people in Thessaloniki really was a treat because of this. After the bar a friend of Stefania's gave me a ride back to the squat on his motor-scooter. Whee!
The next day the sun was beating down with all the powerful Mediterranean heat that I expected of this part of Europe. I spent my last day in Thessaloniki walking around the Uni. campus and the downtown core in shorts and a tank top. It's so incredibly liberating to strip down to your small layers in early March. I went back to the squat to say my good-byes, then I took a late evening train back to Athens where Giorgos met me at the train station around midnight and took me back to his and Eleni's flat for my final night in Greece. Lucky me, he picked me up on his motorcycle and I got two motor-rides in two days! I love how common motorcycles are in Europe compared to Canada. Of course, with their climate and limited space it's the perfect vehicle to get around in.
I spent a few hours hanging out with Eleni, Giorgos, and the cats before hitting the hay. The next day I ran into some more of that fabulous traveler luck. It was a Greek holiday celebrating the first day of the resistance against the Turkish occupation, as well as being a Christian Greek holiday celebrating the day Mary received the news about the holy bun in her oven. On top of these two holidays they have a tradition in Greece where everyone has a birthday but they also have a day to celebrate their name. Every name is assigned a day, usually with many names on one day, and it was the name day of Eleni's mother and brother. Because of all of these things Eleni and Giorgos planned on going to her parent's house outside of Athens for a traditional Greek feast and they invited me along. What a way to spend my last afternoon in Athens! It was like I died and went to food heaven! Even though I don't eat meet there was lots of dips, salads, breads, vegetables, cheese, and wine for me to eat. And, of course, like all the food at Eleni and Giorgos' place all of the food was homemade and most of it was homegrown! Fantastic!
After hours of eating, drinking, and talking the time had come for me to head to the airport for my evening flight back to England. My hosts drove me to a metro station so I could take the train out to the airport, stopping first at a fancy bakery so I could get some baklava for the trip. I'd had baklava before and not liked it, but I guess the Greek honey makes all the difference because it was positively sinful.
The flight to England was pleasant enough, but I was a little nervous because I wasn't actually sure whether or not they would let me in the country again, due to the fact that I had been kicked out at their border before. I had all my papers from when I was deported from the border, and from when they finally stamped me through, I also had the papers for my flight the next day leaving from London and taking me back to Canada. I showed all this to the customs lady and explained my situation. After leaving to check my file and make sure that there was nothing I was hiding, she not only stamped me in with all friendliness and courtesy, but she sent a note to her superiors requesting that the file on me be destroyed seeing as I'm not some crazy fugitive or terrorist. Hooray!
I took the bus to the train to the tube to the bus to Nikki's place, arriving after many hours and too many transfers. Nikki and I hung out with one of her roommates, for a few hours, but they both had early starts the next day, so they went off to bed. My flight was a 9:30am flight, but I had to take the 5am bus from Nikki's house to get to the train station in time for a train to the airport that morning. So, in my usual reasoning, I decided that it would be a much better plan to stay up all night than to try and sleep for only a few hours, plus I was hoping that this would make it possible for me to sleep on my 8 hour flight home. Lucky for me, another of Nikki's roommates came home after she went to bed, and he and I watched cartoons until I had to leave at 5. It was definitely a lovely way to end my time in London!
Bus to train, train to plane, plane to Canada. In the airport I knew my luggage was overweight, so I countered this by wearing 3 pairs of pants, 5 shirts, and filling my pockets with my heaviest things before they weighed my bags. This worked, and they let my few kilos over slide by. I de-robed of my ridiculous layers and got on the plane with no problems. I managed to nod off for about a half hour of my flight, and spent the rest of the time wishing that I was sitting next to a man with narrower shoulders that would take up less than half of my seat. Looking back, it was probably naive of me to think that I could sleep on the way home, for though I was apprehensive about coming back to Canada, I was excited as hell to see my friends.
After going through customs and receiving a cheerful "welcome home" from the woman at the desk, I retrieved my luggage and bounded through the terminal to find... absolutely no one. I looked around for the friends that were supposed to meet me, checked the time, looked around, and finally got tired of holding my bags and sat down to wait it out. I had no money for a payphone call and I didn't really have anyone's number anymore, so I consigned my fate to the airport gods and after waiting for about half an hour Amanda, Ryan, and Sean came to get me. Apparently they had been waiting at the wrong terminal. Many hugs and profanities were exchanged, and after not even knowing how many hours I had been awake for I was really too tired to worry about a little thing like that.
I spent the next 4 days in Toronto catching up with many of my friends and making some horrible realizations about the ugliness of that city. My god, it is so incredibly ugly. Modern buildings are just a disgrace to the architectural profession, and the human life form in general. Yes, apparently along with many fantastic cultural experiences I also gained a fair share of European snobbery whist being abroad. I've almost whittled it away to being a bearable amount, though, so hopefully I won't annoy anyone too much with my haughty tastes.
After Toronto I went to Gravenhurst to spend a few days with Dad and Rita, and visit a few friends to boot. Gravenhurst was quite a slow-down compared to London or Athens, but the joy of seeing my loved ones did make the difference. Then, for the weekend, I went to Carlye and Mike's house and had a nice visit with them. The unfortunate thing, though, is about the same time as I arrived at Carlye's house so did the snow. Canada had a big laugh over my idea that I had escaped winter and literally shat down snow in a fury of pure, white hate. It was winter 2: the redeadening. I was not amused.
My Mommy came over on the Saturday, and after having a little celebration in honour of Carlye's birthday, Mom drove me back to her and Ian's place on Sunday (Last Sunday) and I have been here since. I know this is no longer a European trip at this point, but I have to paint this picture for you, just so you can see the contrast. I went from densely populated ancient cities with large parties and theatre shows, to the cabin where I now sit. You drive 4 hours North of Toronto and hit North Bay, then a 25-minute drive down a dirt road (completely recovered in ice and snow at this point) takes you to the cabin where Mom and Ian live.
Bedroom, kitchen, living room, and dining room, all huddled together with no doors to separate them. Only the washroom has a door. On one side of the cabin is a frozen lake, and on the other side is a forest. Because of the re-freeze they couldn't put the water back in (the pipes freeze in the winter here) so there is no running water. And here is where I've been for over a week. Is it great to spend so much time with my Mom and Step-Dad? Of course. Is the seclusion in nature beautiful? Definitely. Am I going kind of nuts in here? You bet!
The first few days of my visit it was freezing outside and I barely left the cabin, unless we went into town. About halfway through the week the daily temperatures took a bit of an upturn and started poking their heads out above the zero mark. Now we are finally seeing a promising thaw and the snow is slowly disappearing. At first I was overwhelmed with the joy of seeing my mother and the depression of being trapped in the snow and so far from Europe. Feeling bi-polar and cooped up was kind of crazy, but I have been doing lots of reading, writing, talking, and have watched a lot of films. Once the weather started getting warmer I began going for long walks during the day, and this combined with some morning yoga every day hopefully will balance out all the unhealthy food that I ate in England. Canada has also stopped punishing me with snow, and is now courting me with wildlife. I've seen deer and many birds every day. I've also seen a wild rabbit, a wolf, and a gorgeous eagle that flew right over-top of Mom and I.
After all of this, I still feel pretty emotionally muddled. I'm happy to be visiting everyone, I'm glad that to be here in time to see all the springtime animal activity, and I'm excited for Canada in the summer. On the other hand, I desperately miss Europe, I miss all the friends that I made overseas, I bitterly hate every speck of snow that I still see every day, and I have absolutely no clue where I'm going to go or what I'm going to do. I have been treated to an onslaught of questions regarding myself and my plans for the future, and though I know they're asked with love, I have no answers for any of them. I have no plans. I'll try to make some. I know that I need to live somewhere and work somewhere and maybe take my stuff out of my backpack and put it in something crazy like a shelf for once. I should probably do this, and I most likely will... at some point... until then, ADVENTURE!!!
The 4-hour express train ride from Athens to Thessaloniki was a real spectacle to behold. Taking a morning-midday train was definitely the best of plans because I had a well-lit territorial show to behold through the smudged train window. Greece, like Spain, contains a schizophrenic assortment of visual wonders. The sights switched up every few minutes, so though I quickly got tired of sitting still, I never got tired of staring out the window. Arriving in the afternoon on what turned out to be a cloudy and miserable looking day, I hastened to the beautiful ancient Roman Kamala archway in the centre of the city. There I met my couchsurfing host Stephania, a tiny and vivacious University student who is fairly new to couchsurfing. We waited at the arch to meet a few of her friends, then walked en masse to "the squat" where Stephania lives with two of her friends.
On the way over I learned the history of where they live. "The squat" is not a clever name, it is in fact a building that they are squatting in. Because there are many people who can't afford to rent or buy their own houses in Greece, they have fabulously lenient squatting laws, and under such laws Stephania and her friends came to occupy their current dwelling. They live in what was once a portable classroom housed in a complex of like buildings, all of which are covered in graffiti from nearby art students. The University where Stephania goes to school owns all of these buildings, and they are similar to our "portables" in Canada, only bigger. Many are still used for classrooms, but most are either abandoned or inhabited by squatters. Stephania and friends converted their squat into a half-living space (2 bedrooms, one common room, one small kitchen, one bathroom) and half juggling studio. Oh, did I mention that all of Stephania's friends are jugglers? I probably should have said something about that.
The squat was designed in the hopes of giving local jugglers a free place to practice, trade tricks, hold shows and lessons, and crash if they need to. Everyone I've told about this place has asked me if I learned to juggle while I was there, so I'll address that now in saying that no, I don't know how to juggle. I did learn to toss and catch one pin with something resembling skill, but Ivan the Chezch fire-juggler told me that it's not juggling until you have at least three of something. I'm a long way away from juggling, it seems. W arrived at the squat and there was already a large crowd of locals assembled. Some juggling, some talking, most smoking. I never could really get used to the constant chain-smoking of many Greeks. Noxious fumes aside, everyone I met at the squat was amazingly friendly, incredibly skilled, and no two seemed to come from the same country. Welcome to the international house of juggling!
Because of the miserable weather and fact that little goes on a Sunday night, I spent most of my first night hanging indoors, but I did go out for a walk down to the famous Thessaloniki harbour to see sunset over the water. On my way back to the squat I stopped for a vegetarian souvlaki, then barely got lost on the way back (for me this is a big bonus). After a night of talking and then watching a Chezch mime film, I fell into a heavy sleep along with a handful of friends that were crashing in the living room that night. The next morning I woke up, and after hanging at the squat for a while with everyone who had crashed there, I went with Stephania and Ivan to the food hall that they called "Big Mama". The University food hall gave free lunch and dinner to all the students and they never checked to see if people were really students of the school. Needless to say, this was severely taken advantage of. Who cares, free food!
After eating I went to quickly check my email and update my blog at the school library, then Stefania took me to a square surrounded by the ruins of the ancient city wall where she and her friends always go for coffee. At that point Stefania had to go to class, so after a quick frappé, I headed off on my own. The first thing I did was walk to the Aristotle square, where there are many little market stand selling everything from fresh spices to tacky clothes. I continued walking around the downtown core, then hopped a bus to the train station so I could buy a return ticket to Athens for the next day. For some reason you can't buy a return ticket to and from somewhere in Greece, you have to buy the two tickets separately. Strange.
After making my purchase at the train station I took a bus back downtown, then followed the old city wall up the large hill that sits in the middle of Thessaloniki and to the top where there is a large castle-like fort belonging to the wall that is very much intact. climbed up the wall and onto the fort and sat looking out at the mind-blowing view of half the city, then water as far as the horizon. It was amazingly intoxication to sit on something so ancient and take in such a view. I then went to a cafe in the old village that sits atop the hill, then watched the sunset over the city before I began my descent. I returned to the squat, and Stefania was still at school, so after we went to Big Momma for dinner Ivan took me with him to a store his friends own downtown that sells all juggling supplies. I had never before given much thought to the life of a juggler, but now I was completely immersed in their world. It was an amazing experience, and a great new perspective. When we got back to the squat the place was bustling with people and I spent a great deal of time learning to juggle one pin. Needless to say, I am not a prodigy when it comes to juggling. Stefania got word from some of her friends that there was a good ska band playing downtown, so we headed to a ridiculously small bar downtown that was completely overflowing with people to hear the band play.
Although most things are cheap there, drinks aren't, so I abstained from drinking on account of having no resources left. Irregardless, it was a lovely time spent watching the Greek ska band, then heading to the outdoor area of the bar (which was actually just the alley outside filled with people drinking) and talking with Setfania's friends until the early hours of the morning. One thing that is of fantastic note about Greek people (more significantly those up North) is that they heavily use "Malaka" as a familiar term. Malaka basically means wanker, but they use it as a familiar term, as a term of endearment, as an insult, anything! Conversing with all the people in Thessaloniki really was a treat because of this. After the bar a friend of Stefania's gave me a ride back to the squat on his motor-scooter. Whee!
The next day the sun was beating down with all the powerful Mediterranean heat that I expected of this part of Europe. I spent my last day in Thessaloniki walking around the Uni. campus and the downtown core in shorts and a tank top. It's so incredibly liberating to strip down to your small layers in early March. I went back to the squat to say my good-byes, then I took a late evening train back to Athens where Giorgos met me at the train station around midnight and took me back to his and Eleni's flat for my final night in Greece. Lucky me, he picked me up on his motorcycle and I got two motor-rides in two days! I love how common motorcycles are in Europe compared to Canada. Of course, with their climate and limited space it's the perfect vehicle to get around in.
I spent a few hours hanging out with Eleni, Giorgos, and the cats before hitting the hay. The next day I ran into some more of that fabulous traveler luck. It was a Greek holiday celebrating the first day of the resistance against the Turkish occupation, as well as being a Christian Greek holiday celebrating the day Mary received the news about the holy bun in her oven. On top of these two holidays they have a tradition in Greece where everyone has a birthday but they also have a day to celebrate their name. Every name is assigned a day, usually with many names on one day, and it was the name day of Eleni's mother and brother. Because of all of these things Eleni and Giorgos planned on going to her parent's house outside of Athens for a traditional Greek feast and they invited me along. What a way to spend my last afternoon in Athens! It was like I died and went to food heaven! Even though I don't eat meet there was lots of dips, salads, breads, vegetables, cheese, and wine for me to eat. And, of course, like all the food at Eleni and Giorgos' place all of the food was homemade and most of it was homegrown! Fantastic!
After hours of eating, drinking, and talking the time had come for me to head to the airport for my evening flight back to England. My hosts drove me to a metro station so I could take the train out to the airport, stopping first at a fancy bakery so I could get some baklava for the trip. I'd had baklava before and not liked it, but I guess the Greek honey makes all the difference because it was positively sinful.
The flight to England was pleasant enough, but I was a little nervous because I wasn't actually sure whether or not they would let me in the country again, due to the fact that I had been kicked out at their border before. I had all my papers from when I was deported from the border, and from when they finally stamped me through, I also had the papers for my flight the next day leaving from London and taking me back to Canada. I showed all this to the customs lady and explained my situation. After leaving to check my file and make sure that there was nothing I was hiding, she not only stamped me in with all friendliness and courtesy, but she sent a note to her superiors requesting that the file on me be destroyed seeing as I'm not some crazy fugitive or terrorist. Hooray!
I took the bus to the train to the tube to the bus to Nikki's place, arriving after many hours and too many transfers. Nikki and I hung out with one of her roommates, for a few hours, but they both had early starts the next day, so they went off to bed. My flight was a 9:30am flight, but I had to take the 5am bus from Nikki's house to get to the train station in time for a train to the airport that morning. So, in my usual reasoning, I decided that it would be a much better plan to stay up all night than to try and sleep for only a few hours, plus I was hoping that this would make it possible for me to sleep on my 8 hour flight home. Lucky for me, another of Nikki's roommates came home after she went to bed, and he and I watched cartoons until I had to leave at 5. It was definitely a lovely way to end my time in London!
Bus to train, train to plane, plane to Canada. In the airport I knew my luggage was overweight, so I countered this by wearing 3 pairs of pants, 5 shirts, and filling my pockets with my heaviest things before they weighed my bags. This worked, and they let my few kilos over slide by. I de-robed of my ridiculous layers and got on the plane with no problems. I managed to nod off for about a half hour of my flight, and spent the rest of the time wishing that I was sitting next to a man with narrower shoulders that would take up less than half of my seat. Looking back, it was probably naive of me to think that I could sleep on the way home, for though I was apprehensive about coming back to Canada, I was excited as hell to see my friends.
After going through customs and receiving a cheerful "welcome home" from the woman at the desk, I retrieved my luggage and bounded through the terminal to find... absolutely no one. I looked around for the friends that were supposed to meet me, checked the time, looked around, and finally got tired of holding my bags and sat down to wait it out. I had no money for a payphone call and I didn't really have anyone's number anymore, so I consigned my fate to the airport gods and after waiting for about half an hour Amanda, Ryan, and Sean came to get me. Apparently they had been waiting at the wrong terminal. Many hugs and profanities were exchanged, and after not even knowing how many hours I had been awake for I was really too tired to worry about a little thing like that.
I spent the next 4 days in Toronto catching up with many of my friends and making some horrible realizations about the ugliness of that city. My god, it is so incredibly ugly. Modern buildings are just a disgrace to the architectural profession, and the human life form in general. Yes, apparently along with many fantastic cultural experiences I also gained a fair share of European snobbery whist being abroad. I've almost whittled it away to being a bearable amount, though, so hopefully I won't annoy anyone too much with my haughty tastes.
After Toronto I went to Gravenhurst to spend a few days with Dad and Rita, and visit a few friends to boot. Gravenhurst was quite a slow-down compared to London or Athens, but the joy of seeing my loved ones did make the difference. Then, for the weekend, I went to Carlye and Mike's house and had a nice visit with them. The unfortunate thing, though, is about the same time as I arrived at Carlye's house so did the snow. Canada had a big laugh over my idea that I had escaped winter and literally shat down snow in a fury of pure, white hate. It was winter 2: the redeadening. I was not amused.
My Mommy came over on the Saturday, and after having a little celebration in honour of Carlye's birthday, Mom drove me back to her and Ian's place on Sunday (Last Sunday) and I have been here since. I know this is no longer a European trip at this point, but I have to paint this picture for you, just so you can see the contrast. I went from densely populated ancient cities with large parties and theatre shows, to the cabin where I now sit. You drive 4 hours North of Toronto and hit North Bay, then a 25-minute drive down a dirt road (completely recovered in ice and snow at this point) takes you to the cabin where Mom and Ian live.
Bedroom, kitchen, living room, and dining room, all huddled together with no doors to separate them. Only the washroom has a door. On one side of the cabin is a frozen lake, and on the other side is a forest. Because of the re-freeze they couldn't put the water back in (the pipes freeze in the winter here) so there is no running water. And here is where I've been for over a week. Is it great to spend so much time with my Mom and Step-Dad? Of course. Is the seclusion in nature beautiful? Definitely. Am I going kind of nuts in here? You bet!
The first few days of my visit it was freezing outside and I barely left the cabin, unless we went into town. About halfway through the week the daily temperatures took a bit of an upturn and started poking their heads out above the zero mark. Now we are finally seeing a promising thaw and the snow is slowly disappearing. At first I was overwhelmed with the joy of seeing my mother and the depression of being trapped in the snow and so far from Europe. Feeling bi-polar and cooped up was kind of crazy, but I have been doing lots of reading, writing, talking, and have watched a lot of films. Once the weather started getting warmer I began going for long walks during the day, and this combined with some morning yoga every day hopefully will balance out all the unhealthy food that I ate in England. Canada has also stopped punishing me with snow, and is now courting me with wildlife. I've seen deer and many birds every day. I've also seen a wild rabbit, a wolf, and a gorgeous eagle that flew right over-top of Mom and I.
After all of this, I still feel pretty emotionally muddled. I'm happy to be visiting everyone, I'm glad that to be here in time to see all the springtime animal activity, and I'm excited for Canada in the summer. On the other hand, I desperately miss Europe, I miss all the friends that I made overseas, I bitterly hate every speck of snow that I still see every day, and I have absolutely no clue where I'm going to go or what I'm going to do. I have been treated to an onslaught of questions regarding myself and my plans for the future, and though I know they're asked with love, I have no answers for any of them. I have no plans. I'll try to make some. I know that I need to live somewhere and work somewhere and maybe take my stuff out of my backpack and put it in something crazy like a shelf for once. I should probably do this, and I most likely will... at some point... until then, ADVENTURE!!!
Monday, March 23, 2009
Greece is the word
Well, Monday passed by in pretty good leisure, and I spent most of my day visiting my favourite places in Cobham with Tytti one last time before taking the bus to kitchener, then to Nikki's house. On Tuesday I finalised my packings and went for an afternoon whiskey with Nikki and her roommates in honour of St. Patty's day, and then went for a lovely walk in the beautiful sunshine. All these sunny days in a row in England really weirded me out! After one last dinner at my favourite London curry restaurant, I lugged my bags over to the train station for a good, long wait. You see, in order to make my 6:30am flight to Greece at the Gatwick airport, I had to take a 4am train from London Victoria station. The metro in London closes at about 12am and I didn't want to have to take a bunch of night buses to get there. So, at about 9:30pm I arrived at the train station with my bags and my books and I sat in the mild cold to wait for my train. Once I finally got on my train I was pretty cold and pretty tired, but I made my flight on time and (for once) managed to sleep through most of the flight. Genius! I got into the Athens airport at about noon, Greece time, and took the train to the metro to meet my couchsurfing hosts, a lovely Greek couple heavily into theatre, named Elini and Giorgos. I met them outside a gorgeous medeterranean style church and we walked over to their beautiful, centrally located flat, where I met their two cats Nina and Sebastian. Elini cooked a scrumptious lunch of traditional Greek lentil soup and hard bread with olive oil, feta, tomatoes, and olives, and then I took a much needed shower.
I just need to interject for a second here so I can absolutely gush about Greek food. What we in Canada call "olive oil" nothing but a flavourless lie compared to what they eat here! And our feta is nothing but a salty lie compared to the sharp, creamy deliciousness that is Greek feta. Also, real Greek salad doesn't use dressing, they just use oil with salt and pepper because the olive oil is SO GOOD that you don't need anything else. I really freaking lucked out in staying with Elini and Giorgos, because not only are they insanely cool people, but they have relatives all over the islands who give them home-grown everything and I ate nothing but delicious homemade food while I was there. Homemade olive oil- frigging yum!!!
Alright, enough food talk... for now... By the time I got myself fed and sorted out it was a bit too late to get much sightseeing done in the sunlight, so we waited until the sun set and Elini took me out for a "Athens by night" walk near the Acropolis. Even from the base of the mountain, the Acropolis is a sight to behold, and I was practically pinching myself to be there. Unfortunately it started pouring rain monsoon-style and Elini and I got soaked from head to toe and had to scamper back to the metro in puddles up to our knees. I found this really hilarious and got a stranger to take a photo of us in the metro in all our soiled glory. Once we got back and dried off, we headed out again to the super posh area of Athens where we met up with a friend of Giorgos' who was celebrating his Birthday in a cool bar that had an amazing live band. I wanted to take a photo of the bar, and when I went for my camera I realised that it was missing. OH COME ON!!! I had my camera in a hidden pocket in my bag, beneath my wallet and mobile, and yet somehow, through magic, somebody was able to get into my bag without me noticing, and take only my camera. This isn't even tragic anymore, now it's just funny. Okay Europe, you want all my cameras? FINE! Take them. They're yours... Sigh... After a drink at the bar, we headed over to a late-night cinema to catch a midnight showing of Slumdog Millionaire, since none of us had seen it and it's all the rage. After that I positively collapsed into bed and slept the sleep of the dead.
Thursday morning I had my first ever real Greek yogurt with honey for breakfast (holy crap, so good) and I planned out my day of sightseeing. Elini and Giorgos were both busy in the day, so I headed out solo-styles and after giong to the metro office to report my camera missing (just in case) I went to the beautiful National Gardens to bask in the sunshine and see all the pretty trees and flowers. Even in March there are many flowers in bloom all over Greece, and that made me very happy. After the National Gardens I tried to get to the Museum of Archeology, but I got nothing but bad directions ad very lost trying to get there, so I stopped for lunch then went to the Benaki museum, where I saw Greek artifacts from 1600 BC to present. Amazing!
When I got back to the flat, i had enough time to quickly eat dinner with Giorgos, then I was off to meet Elini downtown, where she took me to this cool little theatre to see a physical theatre performance. The performance was amazing, and since there was no talking I could understand everything (huzzah!). Oh how I love theatre so. After the show Elini and Giorgos invited a couple of their friends over, and we all watched some telly before heading to bed.
By Friday I had stalled enough, and I shot out straight to the Acropolis to walk around the glorious ruins all afternoon. Sadly, the Acropolis is no longer free, and I was pretty dissapointed to have to pay for it. Oh well, it was worth it. The temples are amazing, and I saw 2 ancient Greek theatres, one a bit newer, and one that was the original Greek theatre where every big event in the beginning of theatre history happened. i'm not going to lie, I definitely started crying when I saw it, and they had a few of the seats open so I got to actually sit in the stands and stare at the ancient stage. Wow. Yep. I walked around for a few hours on the moutain top, then I quickly zipped over the the train station to buy my ticket for Sunday, before going back to the flat. I had another lovely dinner, then went off in search of a puppetry workshop that Elini had heard about, but couldn't go to due to a rehearsal. It took about an hour to walk there, but the walk took me on a lovely journey across Athens, and landed me in an adorable old neighbourhood of narrow streets and close-knit orange and palm trees. The workshop was acutally a group of people building a giant marionette for an upcoming puppet festival. I'm down with that! Many of the people there spoke some English, so I had no trouble communicating, and I spent a few hours papier-macher-ing and drinking free coffe to the tune of crazy cabaret music. Afterwards I enjoyed another lovely walk back to the flat and spent the rest of the night hanging out with my hosts.
On Saturday it was heavily raining in the morning, so I left in the afternoon, once the rain had thinned out a bit, and finally went to the Archeological Museum. Unfortunately for me, they have ridiculous hours, and by the time I got there they were already closed. I wasn't sure what to do at this point, so I bought a map of Athens from one of the millions of street-kiosks, and planned a little journey for myself. I went to the National Gardens again, then to the Temple of Zeus, Hadrian's Arch, the base of the Acropolis, up another side of the Acropolis mountain, down through the Monastariki market (the Monastariki area is so similar to Southern Spain, with little white houses, tiny alleys, and steep roads), up the major pedestrian road, and back to the Archeological Museum, where I caught a bus back to the flat. Whew, that's a lot of walking! At the flat I met up with Giorgos, and he and I went across town to a neat little theatre space above a restaurant where Elini met up with us. Giorgos was supposed to be performing a show there that night, but it started pouring rain again, and apparently no one ever leaves their house in Athens when it rains, so they wound up not performing (sad) and we all went out to a souvlaki restaurant. I had my first real Greek veggie souvlaki (yes, there is such a thing) and then we went back to the same theatre as the previous night to see a combination physical theatre piece and juggling act. The physical theatre piece was awful, but the juggling was spectacular and donewith humour and grace. We got back late, and I went pretty much straight to bed because i had to catch a morning train to Thessaloniki, where I am now.
Ah, okay I'm sick of typing, keep staying tuned and I'll actually catch up on this thing one of these days.j
I just need to interject for a second here so I can absolutely gush about Greek food. What we in Canada call "olive oil" nothing but a flavourless lie compared to what they eat here! And our feta is nothing but a salty lie compared to the sharp, creamy deliciousness that is Greek feta. Also, real Greek salad doesn't use dressing, they just use oil with salt and pepper because the olive oil is SO GOOD that you don't need anything else. I really freaking lucked out in staying with Elini and Giorgos, because not only are they insanely cool people, but they have relatives all over the islands who give them home-grown everything and I ate nothing but delicious homemade food while I was there. Homemade olive oil- frigging yum!!!
Alright, enough food talk... for now... By the time I got myself fed and sorted out it was a bit too late to get much sightseeing done in the sunlight, so we waited until the sun set and Elini took me out for a "Athens by night" walk near the Acropolis. Even from the base of the mountain, the Acropolis is a sight to behold, and I was practically pinching myself to be there. Unfortunately it started pouring rain monsoon-style and Elini and I got soaked from head to toe and had to scamper back to the metro in puddles up to our knees. I found this really hilarious and got a stranger to take a photo of us in the metro in all our soiled glory. Once we got back and dried off, we headed out again to the super posh area of Athens where we met up with a friend of Giorgos' who was celebrating his Birthday in a cool bar that had an amazing live band. I wanted to take a photo of the bar, and when I went for my camera I realised that it was missing. OH COME ON!!! I had my camera in a hidden pocket in my bag, beneath my wallet and mobile, and yet somehow, through magic, somebody was able to get into my bag without me noticing, and take only my camera. This isn't even tragic anymore, now it's just funny. Okay Europe, you want all my cameras? FINE! Take them. They're yours... Sigh... After a drink at the bar, we headed over to a late-night cinema to catch a midnight showing of Slumdog Millionaire, since none of us had seen it and it's all the rage. After that I positively collapsed into bed and slept the sleep of the dead.
Thursday morning I had my first ever real Greek yogurt with honey for breakfast (holy crap, so good) and I planned out my day of sightseeing. Elini and Giorgos were both busy in the day, so I headed out solo-styles and after giong to the metro office to report my camera missing (just in case) I went to the beautiful National Gardens to bask in the sunshine and see all the pretty trees and flowers. Even in March there are many flowers in bloom all over Greece, and that made me very happy. After the National Gardens I tried to get to the Museum of Archeology, but I got nothing but bad directions ad very lost trying to get there, so I stopped for lunch then went to the Benaki museum, where I saw Greek artifacts from 1600 BC to present. Amazing!
When I got back to the flat, i had enough time to quickly eat dinner with Giorgos, then I was off to meet Elini downtown, where she took me to this cool little theatre to see a physical theatre performance. The performance was amazing, and since there was no talking I could understand everything (huzzah!). Oh how I love theatre so. After the show Elini and Giorgos invited a couple of their friends over, and we all watched some telly before heading to bed.
By Friday I had stalled enough, and I shot out straight to the Acropolis to walk around the glorious ruins all afternoon. Sadly, the Acropolis is no longer free, and I was pretty dissapointed to have to pay for it. Oh well, it was worth it. The temples are amazing, and I saw 2 ancient Greek theatres, one a bit newer, and one that was the original Greek theatre where every big event in the beginning of theatre history happened. i'm not going to lie, I definitely started crying when I saw it, and they had a few of the seats open so I got to actually sit in the stands and stare at the ancient stage. Wow. Yep. I walked around for a few hours on the moutain top, then I quickly zipped over the the train station to buy my ticket for Sunday, before going back to the flat. I had another lovely dinner, then went off in search of a puppetry workshop that Elini had heard about, but couldn't go to due to a rehearsal. It took about an hour to walk there, but the walk took me on a lovely journey across Athens, and landed me in an adorable old neighbourhood of narrow streets and close-knit orange and palm trees. The workshop was acutally a group of people building a giant marionette for an upcoming puppet festival. I'm down with that! Many of the people there spoke some English, so I had no trouble communicating, and I spent a few hours papier-macher-ing and drinking free coffe to the tune of crazy cabaret music. Afterwards I enjoyed another lovely walk back to the flat and spent the rest of the night hanging out with my hosts.
On Saturday it was heavily raining in the morning, so I left in the afternoon, once the rain had thinned out a bit, and finally went to the Archeological Museum. Unfortunately for me, they have ridiculous hours, and by the time I got there they were already closed. I wasn't sure what to do at this point, so I bought a map of Athens from one of the millions of street-kiosks, and planned a little journey for myself. I went to the National Gardens again, then to the Temple of Zeus, Hadrian's Arch, the base of the Acropolis, up another side of the Acropolis mountain, down through the Monastariki market (the Monastariki area is so similar to Southern Spain, with little white houses, tiny alleys, and steep roads), up the major pedestrian road, and back to the Archeological Museum, where I caught a bus back to the flat. Whew, that's a lot of walking! At the flat I met up with Giorgos, and he and I went across town to a neat little theatre space above a restaurant where Elini met up with us. Giorgos was supposed to be performing a show there that night, but it started pouring rain again, and apparently no one ever leaves their house in Athens when it rains, so they wound up not performing (sad) and we all went out to a souvlaki restaurant. I had my first real Greek veggie souvlaki (yes, there is such a thing) and then we went back to the same theatre as the previous night to see a combination physical theatre piece and juggling act. The physical theatre piece was awful, but the juggling was spectacular and donewith humour and grace. We got back late, and I went pretty much straight to bed because i had to catch a morning train to Thessaloniki, where I am now.
Ah, okay I'm sick of typing, keep staying tuned and I'll actually catch up on this thing one of these days.j
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
See yer later Cedar House
Wow, I know I've said this before, but I officially suck at keeping up my blog. I finally have interesting things to write about, but I've been so busy living them that I haven't had time to write them. So let me try to catch you up. The last I wrote I had returned from Newcastle. A long while ago my dear Canadian friend George told me that he would be coming up for a few weeks in the UK and would be going to a rave on the 13th and 14th of March, and I made plans to see him for those days and party my face off. After working so much lately, the prospect of a good party weekend was like bread to the starving. I told work about a month in advance that I would need those days off, then a few weeks in advance I wrote it on a piece of paper in the office so that Gary (my manager) wouldn't forget to give me the Friday and Saturday off. I worked all week from Wednesday to Sunday, and Sunday night we still didn't have the schedule for the next week and I was simply told that I worked Monday and would get the rest of the schedule then. The week had been an especially rough one, so on Sunday night, since there were no hotel guests that night, Tytti and I invited a couple of our friends from the Plough over to get rock-star trashed. A much needed unwind from the rest of the week!
On Monday, feeling much more refreshed than should be humanly possible after drinking that much, I found out that Gary had opted to give me Thursday-Friday off instead of Friday-Saturday, and then had me working Saturday to Tuesday, instead of Sunday to Tuesday, which was the original agreement. There was a big wedding planned for Saturday and they wanted more staff on hand, but this was just being petty. I told Gary that I couldn't work Saturday and he said, "you can't work Saturday!" then walked away. This happened every day for the rest of the week, except sometimes he'd change the subject instead of walk away. By the time Thursday rolled around he still hadn't checked the schedule, so I took this as a sign that I now had Thursday, Friday, AND Saturday off, and went to do my laundry. On my way back to the hotel I got a message from Tytti on my mobile saying, "Gary just told me you don't work here anymore". To quote a teenage blogger, "WTF??" I scooted back to the office and asked Gary what was going on with the text I'd just received and his words were almost verbatim, "oh well, you know" welcome to firing 101! He said that since he was giving me literally NO NOTICE I could keep my bags there for a few days, but I had to basically get the fuck out and wouldn't be working my last 3 shifts. I will not even bothering the layers of douche-dom coating this act.
I packed in a blind, hurried rage, stashed a bag upstairs, mentally gave Gary the finger, finished my laundry, then informed my fellow staff-members that I would no longer be working with them, apparently. The new head chef (who is way nicer than the old head chef) Mo offered to take me out for a goodbye drink. I lamented over my sudden change in situation over Irish coffees, then my friend Gosha offered me a ride to Wimbledon, since it's on my way to London. Unfortunately I accidentally left my cell phone in her car and methodically fed 20p pieces into a pay phone for 3 hours in the cold outside the station waiting for her to pick up her phone and bring me mine when she finished at the gym. Once I finally got my phone back I was able to get a hold of George and meet him and his friends Steph (an ex pat living in London) and his friend Kalie (an American traveling with George for the first week) for drinks at a pub, then we headed back to Steph's place to play catch-up.
Catch-up ran incredibly late, and we had to wake up very early at Stephanie's house so that she could go to work on time. Blinking into the sun that somehow materialised over London, George, Kalie, and I went out for traditional English breakfast, then embarked on a day of sightseeing. Kalie had never been to London, so we went through as many touristy sights as we could in the time we had. For lunch we met up with another of George's friends, named Stacy, and after a few more hours of sightseeing George and Kalie headed to Warthing to meet George's friend who would take them to the rave in Bournemouth that night. I had to scoot back to Nikki's place and grab my clean clothes. Afterwards I met up with Stacy and she and I took the bus to Bournemouth to catch the later half of the rave. Unfortunately we missed George's set by a hair and cursed ourselves for it all through the after-party, when everyone went on and on about how good his set was.
That night we stayed at George's friend Mike's house and I slept fairly brokenly on the floor. The next day we bummed around Bournemouth and then headed into London in the evening. Once in London we found out that the rave we were supposed to be at that night was actually in Brighton. Nothing like an excuse to see another English town before I leave the country! We took a train into Brighton, then went to meet George's friend Joey (aka: DJ Joey Riot) outside the rave just in case he might be able to get us in for free. Joey was already bringing another friend and only had 1 spot on the guest list, but we all just walked to the front and he told the security that we were all with him, and next thing we know the security guards are slapping VIP backstage passes on all our wrists. Freaking SWEET! Now many of you won't have any interest on the subject, but I just have to gush a little about the insane amazingness of UK raves. Canada has a small rave culture and there just isn't the numbers to support the kind of parties that they throw in the UK. There was close to 15000 people there and this was a rave for only one type of electronic music! That can't happen in Canada. Plus everyone there was a raver, a RAVER. Not a clubcat or a scenester, but a glowstick-toting, fist-pumping, whistle-blowing raver! Yeehaw! I danced my feet off both on the floor and behind the stage, I saw DJs I never thought I'd get to see, and I only stopped moving for about 10 minutes in the middle when I had a brief sit.
The rave ended at 6am, and even though our train didn't leave until 7am, we decided to head to the station first and ten maybe find breakfast near there. At the station we found out that it wouldn't open (it being SUnday) until 7:30 with the first train leaving at 8:30. Unfortunately we had to make that 7am train get to Vid station on time to get Kalie's luggage from bag-hold at the station so she could make it in time ot Heathrow for her flight back to America. Long story short, after getting screwed over in several ways by the Universe in general. Switching trains, getting delayed, getting kicked out of trains, closures, ticket problems, getting split up, etc, etc, Kalie wound up missing her flight and we all were reunited in Victoria train station in the afternoon tired and pretty displeased with the world. George and Kalie went off to grab a hotel for the night and I headed to meet Nikki in a park in what turned out to be the most gorgeously sunny day that I had seen in London so far. We picknicked in the park and I switched my bag o' dirty clothes for my bag o' clean clothes which she brought for me.
Because I am an absolute massochist I planned on having my going-away party on Sunday night, and I took the train into Cobham, cursing the fact that I hadn't slept the night before. That night my buddies from the Cedar House and I met up with all our other Cobham friends at the Plough, where there was a live musician, drinks, and snacks for all. Then a few of us went to Woking to the same club we had gone to for Gosha's birthday and partied the night away in a hilariously drunken fashion. By the end of the night I crashed like nobody's business and slept like the dead in my last night at the Cedar House. Okay, it is taking far too long for me to update up until now, so I'll leave you hanging here and start another entry that goes right up until the present. Although by the time I post it it will be the past... ah, mind-fuck!
Stay tuned for more exciting adventures!
On Monday, feeling much more refreshed than should be humanly possible after drinking that much, I found out that Gary had opted to give me Thursday-Friday off instead of Friday-Saturday, and then had me working Saturday to Tuesday, instead of Sunday to Tuesday, which was the original agreement. There was a big wedding planned for Saturday and they wanted more staff on hand, but this was just being petty. I told Gary that I couldn't work Saturday and he said, "you can't work Saturday!" then walked away. This happened every day for the rest of the week, except sometimes he'd change the subject instead of walk away. By the time Thursday rolled around he still hadn't checked the schedule, so I took this as a sign that I now had Thursday, Friday, AND Saturday off, and went to do my laundry. On my way back to the hotel I got a message from Tytti on my mobile saying, "Gary just told me you don't work here anymore". To quote a teenage blogger, "WTF??" I scooted back to the office and asked Gary what was going on with the text I'd just received and his words were almost verbatim, "oh well, you know" welcome to firing 101! He said that since he was giving me literally NO NOTICE I could keep my bags there for a few days, but I had to basically get the fuck out and wouldn't be working my last 3 shifts. I will not even bothering the layers of douche-dom coating this act.
I packed in a blind, hurried rage, stashed a bag upstairs, mentally gave Gary the finger, finished my laundry, then informed my fellow staff-members that I would no longer be working with them, apparently. The new head chef (who is way nicer than the old head chef) Mo offered to take me out for a goodbye drink. I lamented over my sudden change in situation over Irish coffees, then my friend Gosha offered me a ride to Wimbledon, since it's on my way to London. Unfortunately I accidentally left my cell phone in her car and methodically fed 20p pieces into a pay phone for 3 hours in the cold outside the station waiting for her to pick up her phone and bring me mine when she finished at the gym. Once I finally got my phone back I was able to get a hold of George and meet him and his friends Steph (an ex pat living in London) and his friend Kalie (an American traveling with George for the first week) for drinks at a pub, then we headed back to Steph's place to play catch-up.
Catch-up ran incredibly late, and we had to wake up very early at Stephanie's house so that she could go to work on time. Blinking into the sun that somehow materialised over London, George, Kalie, and I went out for traditional English breakfast, then embarked on a day of sightseeing. Kalie had never been to London, so we went through as many touristy sights as we could in the time we had. For lunch we met up with another of George's friends, named Stacy, and after a few more hours of sightseeing George and Kalie headed to Warthing to meet George's friend who would take them to the rave in Bournemouth that night. I had to scoot back to Nikki's place and grab my clean clothes. Afterwards I met up with Stacy and she and I took the bus to Bournemouth to catch the later half of the rave. Unfortunately we missed George's set by a hair and cursed ourselves for it all through the after-party, when everyone went on and on about how good his set was.
That night we stayed at George's friend Mike's house and I slept fairly brokenly on the floor. The next day we bummed around Bournemouth and then headed into London in the evening. Once in London we found out that the rave we were supposed to be at that night was actually in Brighton. Nothing like an excuse to see another English town before I leave the country! We took a train into Brighton, then went to meet George's friend Joey (aka: DJ Joey Riot) outside the rave just in case he might be able to get us in for free. Joey was already bringing another friend and only had 1 spot on the guest list, but we all just walked to the front and he told the security that we were all with him, and next thing we know the security guards are slapping VIP backstage passes on all our wrists. Freaking SWEET! Now many of you won't have any interest on the subject, but I just have to gush a little about the insane amazingness of UK raves. Canada has a small rave culture and there just isn't the numbers to support the kind of parties that they throw in the UK. There was close to 15000 people there and this was a rave for only one type of electronic music! That can't happen in Canada. Plus everyone there was a raver, a RAVER. Not a clubcat or a scenester, but a glowstick-toting, fist-pumping, whistle-blowing raver! Yeehaw! I danced my feet off both on the floor and behind the stage, I saw DJs I never thought I'd get to see, and I only stopped moving for about 10 minutes in the middle when I had a brief sit.
The rave ended at 6am, and even though our train didn't leave until 7am, we decided to head to the station first and ten maybe find breakfast near there. At the station we found out that it wouldn't open (it being SUnday) until 7:30 with the first train leaving at 8:30. Unfortunately we had to make that 7am train get to Vid station on time to get Kalie's luggage from bag-hold at the station so she could make it in time ot Heathrow for her flight back to America. Long story short, after getting screwed over in several ways by the Universe in general. Switching trains, getting delayed, getting kicked out of trains, closures, ticket problems, getting split up, etc, etc, Kalie wound up missing her flight and we all were reunited in Victoria train station in the afternoon tired and pretty displeased with the world. George and Kalie went off to grab a hotel for the night and I headed to meet Nikki in a park in what turned out to be the most gorgeously sunny day that I had seen in London so far. We picknicked in the park and I switched my bag o' dirty clothes for my bag o' clean clothes which she brought for me.
Because I am an absolute massochist I planned on having my going-away party on Sunday night, and I took the train into Cobham, cursing the fact that I hadn't slept the night before. That night my buddies from the Cedar House and I met up with all our other Cobham friends at the Plough, where there was a live musician, drinks, and snacks for all. Then a few of us went to Woking to the same club we had gone to for Gosha's birthday and partied the night away in a hilariously drunken fashion. By the end of the night I crashed like nobody's business and slept like the dead in my last night at the Cedar House. Okay, it is taking far too long for me to update up until now, so I'll leave you hanging here and start another entry that goes right up until the present. Although by the time I post it it will be the past... ah, mind-fuck!
Stay tuned for more exciting adventures!
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Something old, something Newcastle
Sunday night was Gosha's birthday, and all the Cobham crew got together to celebrate. We went for champagne (how classy) at El Torito, then we all took cabs over to a neighbouring city (where there are more exciting bars) and went to a bar-club to do some drinking and sme dancing. Unfortunately for me I was feeling a little sick, so I didn't party quite as hard as usual. Still good times though, especially at the end of the night when my friend Pierre was hammered and heckling the cab driver the whole way back to come buy soup for lunch the next day at the Plough. Good stuff.
And that's pretty much where the good times ended, because on Monday I was sick as a dog and couldn't get out of bed the whole day. I had Monday and Tuesday off and intended to go to Cambridge, but I was insanely ill on Monday. Tuesday I felt better, but not 100% still, so I lounged for the morning then in the afternoon went to the nearby city of Leatherhead. Leatherhead is a hilariously named beautiful little city with many cafes, parks, and more charity shops than I've seen in any other city so far. Definitely my kind of place! I went for a walk in a park, browsed through all the charity shops, and had my hair cut for the first time in about 6 months. That was something I really needed. Then at night I went to salsa night at El Torito and afterwards a few of my peeps came over to the Cedar House to party.
The rest of the week was business as usual, then this week I had Monday and Tuesday off again and I finally made good on my promise to visit Doreen in Newcastle. On Sunday night after work I took a train to London then an overnight bus to Newcastle. I arrived in Newcastle after 6am and by the time I got to Doreen's place I was knackered. Doreen offered me tea right away, bless her, and we chatted for an hour or so before she took off to a doctor's appointment and I went down for the count. I woke up in the afternoon after some lovely sleep (to make up for the not really sleep I had on the bus) and Doreen and I visited some more while I also looked up some Newcastle sights to see on her computer. Wanting to get some touristy business in while it was still daylight I quickly took off to the city centre and began my sojurn through Newcastle.
Newcastle, it turns out, is completely brimming with art, history, and culture. I started my tour at Gray´s monument on Gray Street (which makes me think of Gray Street by Dave Mathews Band), then walked over to the gorgeous 14th century St. Andrews Cathedral. Gray street in Newcastle is beautiful and lined with classic Victorian architecture. Apparently the city was quite the pet of Queen Vic, because it was hugely developed during her reign with her signature style, and there is a large statue of the old Dame in the town centre. After poking around the church I walked over to the castle from which Newcastle gets its name. Around 1008 or so, William the Conqueror's eldest son built himself a castle out of timber and dubbed it New Castle. After that castle died the grounds were used as a graveyard until the 1300s when a new New Castle (aka: the Castle Keep) was erected in stone. This is the building I walked around in. Since it was a Monday afternoon I had the place to myself and spent hours walking through the stone passageways and reading all the neat historical facts.
After the castle, I walked over to the old Medieval town wall. It used to encircle the ancient city, but now only a bit is left. The wall was right by China Town, so I took a stroll through there before heading to Blackfriars. Blackfriars used to be a very famous monastary of the Black Friars, who were so called for wearing black robes. The building is beautiful and well maintained with a park-like backyard that you can hang in. My last stop of the day was to the commercial downtown to get some essentials because I had accidentally left my bag containing my toiletries on the bus (whoops). After that I went back to Doreen's place and had Indian food with her and two of her friends or dinner. When Doreen's friends went home she and I hung out drinking vodka, listening to the Beatles, and catching up. I know Doreen through my Mom (they're friends of many years) and obviously anyone that is cool enough to be friends with my Mom is cool enough to be friends with me, so I had a great time hanging out with her.
Tuesday I slept in in anticipation (or rather dread) of taking another overnight bus that night. I hung out with Doreen a bit during the day, then headed back to the city centre for some mor sightseeing. I started out at "The Biscuit Factory" the UK's largest contemporary art space in what was once a biscuit factory. England is so cute! There was huge variety or art, all for sale and reasonably priced. One of those times I wish I was rich and had a slew of manservants to carry my purchases for me. Obviously I am poor so I bought nothing, but I had a great time looking around nonetheless (and nonethemore). Then I went to the Laird Art Gallery, which hosts a score of old and new paintings. The coolest thing I saw there was a wall-sized painting of a very realistic human heart with eyeballs painted on it. Delightfully haunting it was. I then walked through another section of the downtown area to the "Newcastle Art Gallery" which wasn't much to speak of, but they had a giant robot made of scrap-metal outside that rose up 2 stories high. Giant robots are always a good thing. At that point the museums were closed, so I went to China Town to eat a yummy dinner and do some writing in my journal. After that I had time to kill before my bus and the wind picked up like mad, so I went to a cheap Tuesday night movie at a local cinema and saw "confessions of a shopaholic" (you all knew that had to happen as I am obsessed with all that is Sophie Kinsella aka: Madeleine Wickham). My final hour in Newcastle was spent having a drink at a pub called "the Dog" near the bus station that played sports and punk music. Odd.
My bus was another over-night affair and the guy sitting behind me was "the Man of a Thousand Snores" each louder and weirder than the last and I did not sleep a fucking wink. I arrived in London at 7am tired and relatively pissed off. I took the train to Cobham, caught a one hour nap, then had to work a split shift. Awful, awful death. Then today was work again, and not much new there. I shall write more when something else interesting happens, but until then assume I am working many hours and counting the days until I go to Greece. Oh did I mention I'm going to Greece? I booked a flight for the 18th to Athens for my final European Hurrah.
And that's pretty much where the good times ended, because on Monday I was sick as a dog and couldn't get out of bed the whole day. I had Monday and Tuesday off and intended to go to Cambridge, but I was insanely ill on Monday. Tuesday I felt better, but not 100% still, so I lounged for the morning then in the afternoon went to the nearby city of Leatherhead. Leatherhead is a hilariously named beautiful little city with many cafes, parks, and more charity shops than I've seen in any other city so far. Definitely my kind of place! I went for a walk in a park, browsed through all the charity shops, and had my hair cut for the first time in about 6 months. That was something I really needed. Then at night I went to salsa night at El Torito and afterwards a few of my peeps came over to the Cedar House to party.
The rest of the week was business as usual, then this week I had Monday and Tuesday off again and I finally made good on my promise to visit Doreen in Newcastle. On Sunday night after work I took a train to London then an overnight bus to Newcastle. I arrived in Newcastle after 6am and by the time I got to Doreen's place I was knackered. Doreen offered me tea right away, bless her, and we chatted for an hour or so before she took off to a doctor's appointment and I went down for the count. I woke up in the afternoon after some lovely sleep (to make up for the not really sleep I had on the bus) and Doreen and I visited some more while I also looked up some Newcastle sights to see on her computer. Wanting to get some touristy business in while it was still daylight I quickly took off to the city centre and began my sojurn through Newcastle.
Newcastle, it turns out, is completely brimming with art, history, and culture. I started my tour at Gray´s monument on Gray Street (which makes me think of Gray Street by Dave Mathews Band), then walked over to the gorgeous 14th century St. Andrews Cathedral. Gray street in Newcastle is beautiful and lined with classic Victorian architecture. Apparently the city was quite the pet of Queen Vic, because it was hugely developed during her reign with her signature style, and there is a large statue of the old Dame in the town centre. After poking around the church I walked over to the castle from which Newcastle gets its name. Around 1008 or so, William the Conqueror's eldest son built himself a castle out of timber and dubbed it New Castle. After that castle died the grounds were used as a graveyard until the 1300s when a new New Castle (aka: the Castle Keep) was erected in stone. This is the building I walked around in. Since it was a Monday afternoon I had the place to myself and spent hours walking through the stone passageways and reading all the neat historical facts.
After the castle, I walked over to the old Medieval town wall. It used to encircle the ancient city, but now only a bit is left. The wall was right by China Town, so I took a stroll through there before heading to Blackfriars. Blackfriars used to be a very famous monastary of the Black Friars, who were so called for wearing black robes. The building is beautiful and well maintained with a park-like backyard that you can hang in. My last stop of the day was to the commercial downtown to get some essentials because I had accidentally left my bag containing my toiletries on the bus (whoops). After that I went back to Doreen's place and had Indian food with her and two of her friends or dinner. When Doreen's friends went home she and I hung out drinking vodka, listening to the Beatles, and catching up. I know Doreen through my Mom (they're friends of many years) and obviously anyone that is cool enough to be friends with my Mom is cool enough to be friends with me, so I had a great time hanging out with her.
Tuesday I slept in in anticipation (or rather dread) of taking another overnight bus that night. I hung out with Doreen a bit during the day, then headed back to the city centre for some mor sightseeing. I started out at "The Biscuit Factory" the UK's largest contemporary art space in what was once a biscuit factory. England is so cute! There was huge variety or art, all for sale and reasonably priced. One of those times I wish I was rich and had a slew of manservants to carry my purchases for me. Obviously I am poor so I bought nothing, but I had a great time looking around nonetheless (and nonethemore). Then I went to the Laird Art Gallery, which hosts a score of old and new paintings. The coolest thing I saw there was a wall-sized painting of a very realistic human heart with eyeballs painted on it. Delightfully haunting it was. I then walked through another section of the downtown area to the "Newcastle Art Gallery" which wasn't much to speak of, but they had a giant robot made of scrap-metal outside that rose up 2 stories high. Giant robots are always a good thing. At that point the museums were closed, so I went to China Town to eat a yummy dinner and do some writing in my journal. After that I had time to kill before my bus and the wind picked up like mad, so I went to a cheap Tuesday night movie at a local cinema and saw "confessions of a shopaholic" (you all knew that had to happen as I am obsessed with all that is Sophie Kinsella aka: Madeleine Wickham). My final hour in Newcastle was spent having a drink at a pub called "the Dog" near the bus station that played sports and punk music. Odd.
My bus was another over-night affair and the guy sitting behind me was "the Man of a Thousand Snores" each louder and weirder than the last and I did not sleep a fucking wink. I arrived in London at 7am tired and relatively pissed off. I took the train to Cobham, caught a one hour nap, then had to work a split shift. Awful, awful death. Then today was work again, and not much new there. I shall write more when something else interesting happens, but until then assume I am working many hours and counting the days until I go to Greece. Oh did I mention I'm going to Greece? I booked a flight for the 18th to Athens for my final European Hurrah.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Brighton early!
My god, how bad can my blog title-puns get? Probably much worse, so I'll just keep trying to come up with new annd worse titles for everyone to enjoy! I keep telling myself that I'll update my blog more often, and it's unfortunate that I've proved to be an atrocious liar when it comes to making blog-related promises to myself. I will shoot off a quick update and add further details only in the parts that demand such satisfaction... or at least that's my plan.
I discovered that when you know that snow won't be coming down on you with an all-consuming power for 4 months, it really can be a lot of fun! The snow started melting after 4 days and was gone in a week. Now complete strangers refer to it with the unexplained intimacy of survivors. "Remember when it snowed... must have been 30 cms... couldn't get my car out for days..." I got drunk, played in the snow, had to re-arrange my days off because trains were cancelled, and was otherwise laughing. I was sad that I couldn't go through with my London rocking plans, but I had a great few days at Nikki's place filled with watching TV, playing in the snow, and lots of drinking. Good times were had by all. I originally was to have Monday and Wednesday off (for reasons unknown) but because I was snow-stranded they pushed my days off together, and I was back at work on Wednesday.
Nothing of dramatic importance happened for the next few days of work, but on Sunday, because there is no dinner shift that night and we always finish relatively early, Tytti and I decided to finally check out the local Spanish restau-bar "El Torito". Gosha, who works at the Cedar House, also works there and was gong to have a drink wth us after her shift finished. By the time she finished, her other friends who were there eating dinner, had decided instead of drinking there to head to the other (completely hidden and obscure) local pub called "The Plough". Wait a second! There's another pub in this one-horse town? No way! We headed over to the Plough and discovered (to our shock and amazement) that the 12+ staff are all under 30 and cool as hell. We spent the night drinking and making friends, and left with a much higher opinion of Cobham's younger crowd (ie: that there is one).
Earlier on in the next week our beloved hotel got a visit from the Fire Inspector. In England, because so many buildings are very old, he Fire Inspector is a very common and much feared local authority figure. The rooms that Tytti and I stay in at the hotel are only accessible by one set of stairs, and therefore cannot be rented out as hotel rooms. They were told, however, that staff could live there because they are more familiar with other menas of escape (the window) in the event of a fire. This, aparently, was not the final judgement, because the Fire Inspector decided that staff can no longer occupy those rooms until there is another fire door installed in the kitchen. So, between my split work shifts that day, I had to haul-ass and move all my stuff from my room to another room in the hotel. Tytti had to do the same, and we now share a room in the hotel part of the building. I was pretty angered at first, because I like having a room to myself, and I hate unnecessary packing, but our room is pretty pimp and Tytti and I are friends so it's not like I'm sharing a room with someone I don't like. Also we still have our own beds, which is a necessity.
Over the previous week I got a message from my beloved old college chum Justin that he was finally making good on his years of vague plans and constant talk and would be embarking on his own European adventure. Originally he was going to land in some eastern European country, then come visit me sometime before I have to leave in March, but had changed his mind and bought a (apparently very last-minute) ticket to London; giving me just over a week's notice. I secured Thursday (his arrival day) and Friday off, by working 9 days in a row before-hand, and had garnered permission for him to stay with me at the hotel weeks before when I first heard faint notions of him taking this trip. My room move proved problematic, though, because I didn't want what would inevitably be a loud and boozey reunion to disturb Tytti, and I wanted some time alone with my friend. Because they had originally promised me this visit and because the hotel was skint for guests those nights, I was given one of the fabulous hotel rooms for Justin and I to stay in for two nights. This gave me the rare afforded chance to completely spoil my friend with the most pimp accomodations and a full tour of London.
My 9 days of work were beyond rough, and I wasn't very excited by the prospect of having to wake up at 5am in order to meet Justin on time at the airport. Excitement to see a friend won out over being tired, and I met Justin at the Gatwick airport when he landed. After gathering Justin from the airport, we went back to the hostel so he could shower and drop off his huge back-packing bag (I know the feeling), then we headed out to London to do some sight-seeing. We walked through most of the South-Harbour, and spent about an hour in the Tate Modern museum of modern art. I was really excited to finally go into the Tate and was really impressed by some of the exhibits they have there. After the Tate it was getting cold and we were getting hungry, so we headed to the BYOB Indian restaurant that Nikki had taken me to before, stopping first at the grocery store to buy a full supply of liquor. We then spent a few hours sitting, eating, drinking loads, and catching up. Lovely, lovely dinner.
After that we drank through the whole train ride back to Cobham, and my friend Gosha came to pick our drunken selves up and take us to the Plough to meet our friends for more drinks. My work friends and a couple of our new Plough friends were already there drinking, and I was really pleased to give Justin a proper British pub experience. The best was that my friend Pierre was working the bar, and a closing time instead of kicking us out, he sat down and drank with usfor about an hour. Since we were on a roll we invited everyone up to our hotel room for a few more dinks to cap off the night and we stubled into bed around 4am.
The next day I let Justin sleep in until about noon before I finally succumbed to my impatience and roused him for more sightseeing. We rolled into London at about 2pm and I wanted to get as much in as possible before the sun went down, so we had a whirlwind tour. We started with Buckingham Palace and surrounding parks and statues, then back to South Harbour to see the rest of that, then quickly to Leicester square to inquire on cheap tickets for Oliver (none, damn), then to China Town for dinner at a buffet restaurant. Someone in Leicester square had handed us a flyer for a comedy night happening there, and over Chinese food we decided to go. First we went to Camden market for a quick walkabout, thenback to Leicester square for the comedy show. We arrived late and I had to take an empty seat away from Justin and near the front and had to endure about 10 consecutive minutes of the comic ripping on me. It was all in good fun, though, and I didn'd mind. The funniest thing was that when I was Canadian the comic said that that means that I'm really American and I don't want people to hate me. I hear that a lot, but he actually convinced most of the audience that I was American, so that for the rest of the night any time a comic told an American joke everyone would look at me to see if I was offended. Haha!
The next day I had to work the ridiculous and awful day of Valentine's. The lunch shift was long but not too painful, bt the dinner shift had been fully booked for weeks and was the most awful thing ever. Smack in the middle of the night the floor manager and head chef (who are dating) had a big bitch-fight in the kitchen, which at least half of the customers could hear part of. Not cool. I managed to survive, albeit barely, and luckily the next day was Sunday, so there wouln't be a dinner shift. There was, however, a big fancy party on Sunday so I didn't finish until after 6.
Originally Justin was going to make his plans early and then take off on Valentine's day. This, however, did not pan out, because we had been rocking so hard since he landed Just hadn't actually gotten a chance to sleep off his jet-lag until V-Day. He slept until about 10pm or something, so after it became apparent that he would sleep all day I just stowed him in my room and said we'd figure his plans out after. Then on Sunday I found out that I would have Monday off, so we scrapped any previous plans and decided to go to Brighton. I was exhausted when I finished work, but I don't get theatre kids visiting me very often (see: never) so I sucked it up and we took a train to London. We had a bit of time to kill before our bus, so we went to Westminster Abbey and the other side of Big Ben, then hung out in Victoria Train Station for a bit. We took a bus to Brighton and arrived at about 1:30am. It seemed silly to get a hostel at this point, so we spent the whole night walking around the town and drinking on the beach. The next morning we got a hostel first-thing and slept until mid-afternoon. After this it was time ofr daylight exploring of Brighton, which is an adorable coastal town. It has one of the most exotic and cooly historic buildings in GB: the Middle Eastern style George V palace. We walked along the long beach, through the palace grounds, and spent a bunch of time in the way cool Kensington market where I purchased some cool vintage photos. I love how easy and cheap it is toget really neat vintage stuff here due to the large amounts of history. Yay!
That night we walked around a bit, but mostly hung out in the hostel. The next morning I had to leave super early to make a train back to Cobham, and Just had a ferry to France with his name on it. We said our goodbyes at the station and went our seperate ways. I now know exactly how my friend Will felt when I hung out with him at the end of his trip and the begining of mine. A mix between happiness, sadness, jealousy, and fulfillment. Strange.
Work that day was awful because I officially hadn't slept in a week, and Wednesday was no better because there was a huge B-Day party that night. Luckily I had Thursday (2 days ago, by the time I'm writing this section) off, and I finally gave myself a good rest. I spent the day drinking coffees in the local cafe, reading comics, reading books, and going to the library. The Cobham library is 100% dangerous, because every time I go there lately I tell myself that I have too many books to read right now, then wind up taking out 4 books anyway. Whoops. That night I went to El Torito then the plough with Gosha and her roommies, but I didn't stay out too late because I'm still recovering. Partying is so much easier when pesky work doesn't get in your way! Then nothing but work until now, speaking of which, I should go get ready for it.
I discovered that when you know that snow won't be coming down on you with an all-consuming power for 4 months, it really can be a lot of fun! The snow started melting after 4 days and was gone in a week. Now complete strangers refer to it with the unexplained intimacy of survivors. "Remember when it snowed... must have been 30 cms... couldn't get my car out for days..." I got drunk, played in the snow, had to re-arrange my days off because trains were cancelled, and was otherwise laughing. I was sad that I couldn't go through with my London rocking plans, but I had a great few days at Nikki's place filled with watching TV, playing in the snow, and lots of drinking. Good times were had by all. I originally was to have Monday and Wednesday off (for reasons unknown) but because I was snow-stranded they pushed my days off together, and I was back at work on Wednesday.
Nothing of dramatic importance happened for the next few days of work, but on Sunday, because there is no dinner shift that night and we always finish relatively early, Tytti and I decided to finally check out the local Spanish restau-bar "El Torito". Gosha, who works at the Cedar House, also works there and was gong to have a drink wth us after her shift finished. By the time she finished, her other friends who were there eating dinner, had decided instead of drinking there to head to the other (completely hidden and obscure) local pub called "The Plough". Wait a second! There's another pub in this one-horse town? No way! We headed over to the Plough and discovered (to our shock and amazement) that the 12+ staff are all under 30 and cool as hell. We spent the night drinking and making friends, and left with a much higher opinion of Cobham's younger crowd (ie: that there is one).
Earlier on in the next week our beloved hotel got a visit from the Fire Inspector. In England, because so many buildings are very old, he Fire Inspector is a very common and much feared local authority figure. The rooms that Tytti and I stay in at the hotel are only accessible by one set of stairs, and therefore cannot be rented out as hotel rooms. They were told, however, that staff could live there because they are more familiar with other menas of escape (the window) in the event of a fire. This, aparently, was not the final judgement, because the Fire Inspector decided that staff can no longer occupy those rooms until there is another fire door installed in the kitchen. So, between my split work shifts that day, I had to haul-ass and move all my stuff from my room to another room in the hotel. Tytti had to do the same, and we now share a room in the hotel part of the building. I was pretty angered at first, because I like having a room to myself, and I hate unnecessary packing, but our room is pretty pimp and Tytti and I are friends so it's not like I'm sharing a room with someone I don't like. Also we still have our own beds, which is a necessity.
Over the previous week I got a message from my beloved old college chum Justin that he was finally making good on his years of vague plans and constant talk and would be embarking on his own European adventure. Originally he was going to land in some eastern European country, then come visit me sometime before I have to leave in March, but had changed his mind and bought a (apparently very last-minute) ticket to London; giving me just over a week's notice. I secured Thursday (his arrival day) and Friday off, by working 9 days in a row before-hand, and had garnered permission for him to stay with me at the hotel weeks before when I first heard faint notions of him taking this trip. My room move proved problematic, though, because I didn't want what would inevitably be a loud and boozey reunion to disturb Tytti, and I wanted some time alone with my friend. Because they had originally promised me this visit and because the hotel was skint for guests those nights, I was given one of the fabulous hotel rooms for Justin and I to stay in for two nights. This gave me the rare afforded chance to completely spoil my friend with the most pimp accomodations and a full tour of London.
My 9 days of work were beyond rough, and I wasn't very excited by the prospect of having to wake up at 5am in order to meet Justin on time at the airport. Excitement to see a friend won out over being tired, and I met Justin at the Gatwick airport when he landed. After gathering Justin from the airport, we went back to the hostel so he could shower and drop off his huge back-packing bag (I know the feeling), then we headed out to London to do some sight-seeing. We walked through most of the South-Harbour, and spent about an hour in the Tate Modern museum of modern art. I was really excited to finally go into the Tate and was really impressed by some of the exhibits they have there. After the Tate it was getting cold and we were getting hungry, so we headed to the BYOB Indian restaurant that Nikki had taken me to before, stopping first at the grocery store to buy a full supply of liquor. We then spent a few hours sitting, eating, drinking loads, and catching up. Lovely, lovely dinner.
After that we drank through the whole train ride back to Cobham, and my friend Gosha came to pick our drunken selves up and take us to the Plough to meet our friends for more drinks. My work friends and a couple of our new Plough friends were already there drinking, and I was really pleased to give Justin a proper British pub experience. The best was that my friend Pierre was working the bar, and a closing time instead of kicking us out, he sat down and drank with usfor about an hour. Since we were on a roll we invited everyone up to our hotel room for a few more dinks to cap off the night and we stubled into bed around 4am.
The next day I let Justin sleep in until about noon before I finally succumbed to my impatience and roused him for more sightseeing. We rolled into London at about 2pm and I wanted to get as much in as possible before the sun went down, so we had a whirlwind tour. We started with Buckingham Palace and surrounding parks and statues, then back to South Harbour to see the rest of that, then quickly to Leicester square to inquire on cheap tickets for Oliver (none, damn), then to China Town for dinner at a buffet restaurant. Someone in Leicester square had handed us a flyer for a comedy night happening there, and over Chinese food we decided to go. First we went to Camden market for a quick walkabout, thenback to Leicester square for the comedy show. We arrived late and I had to take an empty seat away from Justin and near the front and had to endure about 10 consecutive minutes of the comic ripping on me. It was all in good fun, though, and I didn'd mind. The funniest thing was that when I was Canadian the comic said that that means that I'm really American and I don't want people to hate me. I hear that a lot, but he actually convinced most of the audience that I was American, so that for the rest of the night any time a comic told an American joke everyone would look at me to see if I was offended. Haha!
The next day I had to work the ridiculous and awful day of Valentine's. The lunch shift was long but not too painful, bt the dinner shift had been fully booked for weeks and was the most awful thing ever. Smack in the middle of the night the floor manager and head chef (who are dating) had a big bitch-fight in the kitchen, which at least half of the customers could hear part of. Not cool. I managed to survive, albeit barely, and luckily the next day was Sunday, so there wouln't be a dinner shift. There was, however, a big fancy party on Sunday so I didn't finish until after 6.
Originally Justin was going to make his plans early and then take off on Valentine's day. This, however, did not pan out, because we had been rocking so hard since he landed Just hadn't actually gotten a chance to sleep off his jet-lag until V-Day. He slept until about 10pm or something, so after it became apparent that he would sleep all day I just stowed him in my room and said we'd figure his plans out after. Then on Sunday I found out that I would have Monday off, so we scrapped any previous plans and decided to go to Brighton. I was exhausted when I finished work, but I don't get theatre kids visiting me very often (see: never) so I sucked it up and we took a train to London. We had a bit of time to kill before our bus, so we went to Westminster Abbey and the other side of Big Ben, then hung out in Victoria Train Station for a bit. We took a bus to Brighton and arrived at about 1:30am. It seemed silly to get a hostel at this point, so we spent the whole night walking around the town and drinking on the beach. The next morning we got a hostel first-thing and slept until mid-afternoon. After this it was time ofr daylight exploring of Brighton, which is an adorable coastal town. It has one of the most exotic and cooly historic buildings in GB: the Middle Eastern style George V palace. We walked along the long beach, through the palace grounds, and spent a bunch of time in the way cool Kensington market where I purchased some cool vintage photos. I love how easy and cheap it is toget really neat vintage stuff here due to the large amounts of history. Yay!
That night we walked around a bit, but mostly hung out in the hostel. The next morning I had to leave super early to make a train back to Cobham, and Just had a ferry to France with his name on it. We said our goodbyes at the station and went our seperate ways. I now know exactly how my friend Will felt when I hung out with him at the end of his trip and the begining of mine. A mix between happiness, sadness, jealousy, and fulfillment. Strange.
Work that day was awful because I officially hadn't slept in a week, and Wednesday was no better because there was a huge B-Day party that night. Luckily I had Thursday (2 days ago, by the time I'm writing this section) off, and I finally gave myself a good rest. I spent the day drinking coffees in the local cafe, reading comics, reading books, and going to the library. The Cobham library is 100% dangerous, because every time I go there lately I tell myself that I have too many books to read right now, then wind up taking out 4 books anyway. Whoops. That night I went to El Torito then the plough with Gosha and her roommies, but I didn't stay out too late because I'm still recovering. Partying is so much easier when pesky work doesn't get in your way! Then nothing but work until now, speaking of which, I should go get ready for it.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Leeds me to it!
Alright, only 8 (or so) days since I last wrote in my blog- I'm doing much better than last time! The problem, though, is now that I've more or less settled-ish for the time being (wow, what a precise statement) my blog entries are going to be a lot less colourful than they have been in the past. In fact, they might even resemble something (gasp) normal!!! So, to avoid that I will have to stir up as much local chaos as I can.
Since I last wrote not too much has happened. I have too little memory to pin-point exactly what happened each day since then, but I can regail you with the highlights of my past week. Last week I had Wednesday and Thursday off, and Friday I had a late-shift at work, so this gave me the chance to force Nikki to book Friday off so we could go party it up in London on Thursday night. On Wednesday I took the bus to the nearest large city (Kingston), which is a very adorable city on the Thames river. I spent the day walking through the shopping area, walking along the river, and getting yet another over-seas cell phone (hopefully my last). In the evening I ducked into the McDonalds to use their bathroom without buying anything (bwah ha ha) and who should I see but my dear friends Nikki eating french fries? "What the hell are you doing in Kingston?" I asked, bemused. Apparently Nikki had been working at a school near Kingston that day (she's a sub teacher and moves around a lot) and had come to the city do to a bit of shopping. Delighted by the providence of seeing each other so randomly, we decided to go to dinner at an adorable Italian restaurant in the city centre. After that I took the train back to Cobham, arriving late, and then went for drinks with Tytti and Dave (who work at the Inn).
The next day I also had off, and I spent the morning dyeing my hair and being otherwise slovenly, before I finally got off my ass and headed out. I went to meet Nikki at Wimbledon station, and whilst waiting for her I went to the most kick ass used book shop ever and bought really amazing European vintage postcards! Yippee! After that Nikki and I went back to her place, made dinner, split a bottle of wine, and then headed out to a pub in Soho to meet up with her two friends (whose names escape me, because I suck at names). We shared drinks and a few hours of conversation, then her friends went home and Nikki and I went off in search of this bar that was supposed to have a live 60s covers band all night, but they wound up ending super early, so we went and took out our frustrations by hitting up a chippery, then heading back to Soho in search of another bar. We went to a super swanky downtown bar and had a drink before waiting in the freezing cold rain for the bus back to Nikki's place. The next day we went back to Wimbledon so Nikki could show me the coat she wanted to buy, and then I finally had to take the train back to Cobham and go to work.
The days passed as per usual once again with working, reading, watching telly (it's wierd having a TV again, and kind of disquieting), and going to the local pubs. Oh yes, I said pubs, because we found another pub that was secretly hidden away and now have 2 choices for our nights out (oh small towns). Then for my Wednesday, Thursday days off this week I decided to go to Leeds and stay with my friend Mike who I met through couchsurfing. Leeds is a crazy city full of malls that is 4 hours north of London. Beside it (where Mike actually lives) is Jewsbury, which is a city-town that has the highest Asian population in England. Over 50% of the inhabitants are from Indian or Pakistan. About a half hour north of that is the gorgeous and super historic city of York, which has one of the oldest intact castles in England (10th century) and used to be the Northern capital of England where many wars were fought and many kings and queens lived at least part-time.
On Tuesday night at work it became apparent that I would finish work early, so in the interest of not waking up at ridiculous oclock to catch my 8am bus in central London, I took the train to Nikki's place after work, and then left in the early morning from her place. I arrived in Leeds in the early afternoon, and while Mike was still at work I walked around the city. There are some nice buildings and churches, but much more new development than I'd like to see in an English city, and I was honestly the most impressed by a rad comic shop I went to where the cleric gave me a free comic magazine showing all the comic shops in England (I'm in trouble now!). When Mike finished work I met him at the train station and he took me to his place where I met his roommates, then we headed to a nearby town and went to a Thai restaurant for dinner. Then Mike was trying to show me this cool rock site called "the Cow and Calf" but the half hour drive took about four hours due to getting insanely lost. Normally this would suck, but Mike in the hilarious Scottish way was cursing to high heaven through frustration, and I couldn't stop laughing. Eventually we made it to the Cow and Calf, just in time for it to be completely obscurred by fog, but cool in an eerie way. After that it was relatively early to bed due to tiredness.
The next day my intention was to go explore Jesbury when Mike was at work, but it was miserable outside and I hadn't been lazy for a while, so I stayed inside and shared my time between reading and chatting with one of Mike's roommates, Kim, who was home for the day. When Mike came back we headed out to York and walked around for hours. exploring the gorgeous cobblestone streets, old buildings, gorgeous Cathedral, ancient castle, and historic city wall. We ended the night by hopping a fence and climbing on the city wall for a very cool walk along the wall's platform. After that we dashed back to Mike's place to grab his roomies and head to the grocery store to buy food and a whole bunch of booze, and made dinner whilst drinking copious amounts and listening to good tunes. The next day I had to get up at 8am and enjoyed a nice and deadly hangover for my 4 hour bus-ride to London and subsequent train-ride back to Cobham; only returning to a normal state in time for work that evening.
More days passed as always, and then today (Sunday) at work I found out by about the mid-afternoon that I have tomorrow off, so since Sunday always ends relatively early (no dinner shift) I high-tailed it to Nikki's place, where I am now, so that tomorrow I can rock London again. Also tonight when I arrived it started snowing in London for the first time since I got here. Nikki and I went for a walk, through snow-balls, slid on the icey streets, helped some poor blokes push their car up a hill, and got some baileys and whiskey to make boosey hot-chocolate. What a good night!
Since I last wrote not too much has happened. I have too little memory to pin-point exactly what happened each day since then, but I can regail you with the highlights of my past week. Last week I had Wednesday and Thursday off, and Friday I had a late-shift at work, so this gave me the chance to force Nikki to book Friday off so we could go party it up in London on Thursday night. On Wednesday I took the bus to the nearest large city (Kingston), which is a very adorable city on the Thames river. I spent the day walking through the shopping area, walking along the river, and getting yet another over-seas cell phone (hopefully my last). In the evening I ducked into the McDonalds to use their bathroom without buying anything (bwah ha ha) and who should I see but my dear friends Nikki eating french fries? "What the hell are you doing in Kingston?" I asked, bemused. Apparently Nikki had been working at a school near Kingston that day (she's a sub teacher and moves around a lot) and had come to the city do to a bit of shopping. Delighted by the providence of seeing each other so randomly, we decided to go to dinner at an adorable Italian restaurant in the city centre. After that I took the train back to Cobham, arriving late, and then went for drinks with Tytti and Dave (who work at the Inn).
The next day I also had off, and I spent the morning dyeing my hair and being otherwise slovenly, before I finally got off my ass and headed out. I went to meet Nikki at Wimbledon station, and whilst waiting for her I went to the most kick ass used book shop ever and bought really amazing European vintage postcards! Yippee! After that Nikki and I went back to her place, made dinner, split a bottle of wine, and then headed out to a pub in Soho to meet up with her two friends (whose names escape me, because I suck at names). We shared drinks and a few hours of conversation, then her friends went home and Nikki and I went off in search of this bar that was supposed to have a live 60s covers band all night, but they wound up ending super early, so we went and took out our frustrations by hitting up a chippery, then heading back to Soho in search of another bar. We went to a super swanky downtown bar and had a drink before waiting in the freezing cold rain for the bus back to Nikki's place. The next day we went back to Wimbledon so Nikki could show me the coat she wanted to buy, and then I finally had to take the train back to Cobham and go to work.
The days passed as per usual once again with working, reading, watching telly (it's wierd having a TV again, and kind of disquieting), and going to the local pubs. Oh yes, I said pubs, because we found another pub that was secretly hidden away and now have 2 choices for our nights out (oh small towns). Then for my Wednesday, Thursday days off this week I decided to go to Leeds and stay with my friend Mike who I met through couchsurfing. Leeds is a crazy city full of malls that is 4 hours north of London. Beside it (where Mike actually lives) is Jewsbury, which is a city-town that has the highest Asian population in England. Over 50% of the inhabitants are from Indian or Pakistan. About a half hour north of that is the gorgeous and super historic city of York, which has one of the oldest intact castles in England (10th century) and used to be the Northern capital of England where many wars were fought and many kings and queens lived at least part-time.
On Tuesday night at work it became apparent that I would finish work early, so in the interest of not waking up at ridiculous oclock to catch my 8am bus in central London, I took the train to Nikki's place after work, and then left in the early morning from her place. I arrived in Leeds in the early afternoon, and while Mike was still at work I walked around the city. There are some nice buildings and churches, but much more new development than I'd like to see in an English city, and I was honestly the most impressed by a rad comic shop I went to where the cleric gave me a free comic magazine showing all the comic shops in England (I'm in trouble now!). When Mike finished work I met him at the train station and he took me to his place where I met his roommates, then we headed to a nearby town and went to a Thai restaurant for dinner. Then Mike was trying to show me this cool rock site called "the Cow and Calf" but the half hour drive took about four hours due to getting insanely lost. Normally this would suck, but Mike in the hilarious Scottish way was cursing to high heaven through frustration, and I couldn't stop laughing. Eventually we made it to the Cow and Calf, just in time for it to be completely obscurred by fog, but cool in an eerie way. After that it was relatively early to bed due to tiredness.
The next day my intention was to go explore Jesbury when Mike was at work, but it was miserable outside and I hadn't been lazy for a while, so I stayed inside and shared my time between reading and chatting with one of Mike's roommates, Kim, who was home for the day. When Mike came back we headed out to York and walked around for hours. exploring the gorgeous cobblestone streets, old buildings, gorgeous Cathedral, ancient castle, and historic city wall. We ended the night by hopping a fence and climbing on the city wall for a very cool walk along the wall's platform. After that we dashed back to Mike's place to grab his roomies and head to the grocery store to buy food and a whole bunch of booze, and made dinner whilst drinking copious amounts and listening to good tunes. The next day I had to get up at 8am and enjoyed a nice and deadly hangover for my 4 hour bus-ride to London and subsequent train-ride back to Cobham; only returning to a normal state in time for work that evening.
More days passed as always, and then today (Sunday) at work I found out by about the mid-afternoon that I have tomorrow off, so since Sunday always ends relatively early (no dinner shift) I high-tailed it to Nikki's place, where I am now, so that tomorrow I can rock London again. Also tonight when I arrived it started snowing in London for the first time since I got here. Nikki and I went for a walk, through snow-balls, slid on the icey streets, helped some poor blokes push their car up a hill, and got some baileys and whiskey to make boosey hot-chocolate. What a good night!
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