I had another grand adventure today! I went over to a friend's place for supper tonight. It was raining. Hard. As in, the rain was driving down so hard that it was bouncing off the concrete by a couple of inches. But it was warm rain, and fun. I was going to take the bus (protect my voice, which I just got back after being sick all weekend), but by the time I got to the stop, my shoes were soaked, and my jeans were wet up to my knees. Figured I couldn't get much wetter, so I decided to walk.
How wrong I was. I wish I'd had my camera... the streets were rushing rivers. Sometimes I had to reroute, because the water was too deep to cross the road at that intersection. One store drainpipe had so much water rushing down it from the roof that the water was hitting the concrete and violently spraying back up to shoulder height. Oh! And I found a new use for my umbrella! After being hit by a wave or two of muddy water, I started using it as a shield for the spray of passing cars.
By the time I got there, I was soaking from head to toe (the rain was coming through both my umbrella AND my raincoat). But it was not only a fun visit, but useful too. She's been teaching here for the last year or so, and assured me that what I've experienced so far is not normal. She's a sweet, soft-spoken lady. Gives me hope! I also spoke with a couple other British teachers over the weekend who say the same thing. I may survive here after all! She also shared a few usefull teaching resources. Excellent!
I'm even looking forward to going back to work tomorrow!
Monday 26 September 2011
Friday 23 September 2011
Be careful what you wish for
I'm not quite sure what to think. I still can't get over it. I've raised my voice more over the last two days than I have in my entire Canadian career. If I'd yelled this much at my students back home, they'd all be crying AND I'd likely lose my job. If I don't yell more than this in England, I likely will lose my job.
My behaviour management techniques do not work here... the kids have been completely desensitized. In Canada, when a child is not on task, first you move closer to them, then you use proximity and a gentle touch on the shoulder, then you try proximity, touch and quietly using their name, and then you get more serious. Here, teachers jump straight to laying into a child, going up one side and down the other, at the top of their lungs. Publicly humiliating a child in Canada would make a Canadian teacher recoil in horror by the way. It's at the top of the "Do not, ever, do" list.
My morning was a disaster... we got almost nothing done, and the class was completely out of control. Why? Because I was gentle with them for the first 5 minutes. It didn't matter what I did after that. At lunch I was seriously reconsidering wanting anything to do with the British school system. Maybe I still should.
In the afternoon, I had a different class. I barked at them like a drill sergeant as soon as I went to retrieve them from recess. "FACE FORWARD", "Be QUIET!". And I had no issues with them all afternoon, on a Friday. We got through the assigned work, and I could even do a couple quick activities with them at the end of the day (I had some walrus teeth that I'd picked up in Skagway this summer, and some Canadian coins... their 5 pence looks identical to our dime from the back.)
Another anecdote: I went to get the class from the playground after recess today. It was like walking onto a frozen movie set. The kids were all over the place, in the middle of doing whatever action or game they were up to when the bell rang, but not even twitching. It was dead silent. The only sound was a lady pacing around, berating [loudly, of course] and threatening them if they dared to move. It was the strangest scene I had ever witnessed. Then, a whistle was blown, and all the children rushed into their line-ups. Or almost all of the children. The kids who had done something wrong that morning were still in the "shapes", where they are expected to stand at attention all recess. They remain there, facing the whole school, until you collect them as you march past them into class.
I can't help but wonder how this year is going to change me. Can I take the good and leave the... mayhaps I shouldn't call it bad, but techniques that don't agree with my current teaching philosophy? Will they agree with me by the end of the year? The adults seem friendly and well-adjusted (the relaxed, smiling teachers you see in the staff room do not line-up with the hard, scary teachers you see interacting with their pupils in the hallways). But the kids are treated so... differently to what I'm used to. And here I am, coming from a system where I complain that there are no consequence, and that children are allowed to call too many of the shots.
My behaviour management techniques do not work here... the kids have been completely desensitized. In Canada, when a child is not on task, first you move closer to them, then you use proximity and a gentle touch on the shoulder, then you try proximity, touch and quietly using their name, and then you get more serious. Here, teachers jump straight to laying into a child, going up one side and down the other, at the top of their lungs. Publicly humiliating a child in Canada would make a Canadian teacher recoil in horror by the way. It's at the top of the "Do not, ever, do" list.
My morning was a disaster... we got almost nothing done, and the class was completely out of control. Why? Because I was gentle with them for the first 5 minutes. It didn't matter what I did after that. At lunch I was seriously reconsidering wanting anything to do with the British school system. Maybe I still should.
In the afternoon, I had a different class. I barked at them like a drill sergeant as soon as I went to retrieve them from recess. "FACE FORWARD", "Be QUIET!". And I had no issues with them all afternoon, on a Friday. We got through the assigned work, and I could even do a couple quick activities with them at the end of the day (I had some walrus teeth that I'd picked up in Skagway this summer, and some Canadian coins... their 5 pence looks identical to our dime from the back.)
Another anecdote: I went to get the class from the playground after recess today. It was like walking onto a frozen movie set. The kids were all over the place, in the middle of doing whatever action or game they were up to when the bell rang, but not even twitching. It was dead silent. The only sound was a lady pacing around, berating [loudly, of course] and threatening them if they dared to move. It was the strangest scene I had ever witnessed. Then, a whistle was blown, and all the children rushed into their line-ups. Or almost all of the children. The kids who had done something wrong that morning were still in the "shapes", where they are expected to stand at attention all recess. They remain there, facing the whole school, until you collect them as you march past them into class.
I can't help but wonder how this year is going to change me. Can I take the good and leave the... mayhaps I shouldn't call it bad, but techniques that don't agree with my current teaching philosophy? Will they agree with me by the end of the year? The adults seem friendly and well-adjusted (the relaxed, smiling teachers you see in the staff room do not line-up with the hard, scary teachers you see interacting with their pupils in the hallways). But the kids are treated so... differently to what I'm used to. And here I am, coming from a system where I complain that there are no consequence, and that children are allowed to call too many of the shots.
Thursday 22 September 2011
Day 3: I had work!
I finally had my first real day of "supply" (Canadians, read "substitute") teaching. They didn't REALLY have work for me, but since they are paying me anyway, TimePlan sent me into a school that doesn't take advantage of their services, free of charge. No pressure now... I only had to act as ambassador and woo them into using TimePlan.
I spent the day bouncing around from class to class, giving the teachers a chance to do some planning. Discovery #1: Classroom management is really hard when you don't know kids names (and good luck with THAT when you have a new class every hour). Discovery #2: Apparently I sound Welsh (uhuh.....)
It seemed like a really nice school. The kids seem like normal kids, and the staff is friendly. A lot of the routines are alien to me. For example, at the end of the day you take your class outside and line them up, releasing the children one by one into the care of their parents. Back in Canada, the bell rings and the kids run for the door.
Teachers also rule with an iron fist here. One of the students was trying to coach me in how to yell at the class. Antonio (my latest housemate) shared a similar story; at recess, his students told him to put on a stern face, jab his finger in the air violently, and to shout "DETENTION!". Homework is also not to be started in class, but is to be done solely at home, with little direction from the teacher. And I think I mentioned yesterday that children are singled out and publicly humiliated, especially the energetic and immature boys. The above paragraph is full of strict no-no's in the Canadian system. I have no idea if this is widespread British philosophy, or simply local practice. I'm told that I'll get a class that completely destroys me, because they've been trained into this system and it's the only thing that's effective, that I'll go home and cry that night, and then get with the program. I sure hope not.
Back to my day... After lunch I had the "bad" class of the school: a Year 5 class. They had it all planned out... when I started with the register they did the age-old name switch. As if their giggling and male/female names didn't instantly give it away. I think that they were disappointed when I didn't react. This was followed by a general fist-fight: one kid got punched in the stomach, another hit over the head with a book, two girls started crying and of course a girl drew blood with her nails. I'm a little surprised that we got any work done that hour. Felt like my first year teaching with that crazy 4/5 split I had.
At the end of the day I dutifully thanked the deputy headmaster for having me into his school. He asked me if I'd consider covering a maternity leave starting in December. I know he knows about the fight (I sent to the office for help breaking it up, and had referenced it in our chat), but maybe he hadn't quite thought his offer through. It wasn't an official offer. I hadn't had any intention of taking an extended position. But by December I might be sick of supply teaching and be ready for my own class. The other major advantage is that it's just around the corner... I would save a killing in bus fare, and soooooo much travel time. It's literally a 10 minute walk from my front door.
I spent the day bouncing around from class to class, giving the teachers a chance to do some planning. Discovery #1: Classroom management is really hard when you don't know kids names (and good luck with THAT when you have a new class every hour). Discovery #2: Apparently I sound Welsh (uhuh.....)
It seemed like a really nice school. The kids seem like normal kids, and the staff is friendly. A lot of the routines are alien to me. For example, at the end of the day you take your class outside and line them up, releasing the children one by one into the care of their parents. Back in Canada, the bell rings and the kids run for the door.
Teachers also rule with an iron fist here. One of the students was trying to coach me in how to yell at the class. Antonio (my latest housemate) shared a similar story; at recess, his students told him to put on a stern face, jab his finger in the air violently, and to shout "DETENTION!". Homework is also not to be started in class, but is to be done solely at home, with little direction from the teacher. And I think I mentioned yesterday that children are singled out and publicly humiliated, especially the energetic and immature boys. The above paragraph is full of strict no-no's in the Canadian system. I have no idea if this is widespread British philosophy, or simply local practice. I'm told that I'll get a class that completely destroys me, because they've been trained into this system and it's the only thing that's effective, that I'll go home and cry that night, and then get with the program. I sure hope not.
Back to my day... After lunch I had the "bad" class of the school: a Year 5 class. They had it all planned out... when I started with the register they did the age-old name switch. As if their giggling and male/female names didn't instantly give it away. I think that they were disappointed when I didn't react. This was followed by a general fist-fight: one kid got punched in the stomach, another hit over the head with a book, two girls started crying and of course a girl drew blood with her nails. I'm a little surprised that we got any work done that hour. Felt like my first year teaching with that crazy 4/5 split I had.
At the end of the day I dutifully thanked the deputy headmaster for having me into his school. He asked me if I'd consider covering a maternity leave starting in December. I know he knows about the fight (I sent to the office for help breaking it up, and had referenced it in our chat), but maybe he hadn't quite thought his offer through. It wasn't an official offer. I hadn't had any intention of taking an extended position. But by December I might be sick of supply teaching and be ready for my own class. The other major advantage is that it's just around the corner... I would save a killing in bus fare, and soooooo much travel time. It's literally a 10 minute walk from my front door.
Wednesday 21 September 2011
Day 2: no work
TimePlan didn't have any work for me today, so I used the time to go clothes shopping. To make money, or to spend it, hmmm... I figured I better have more than one set of professional clothes though, on the off chance a school calls me in more than one day in a row.
I also started my group fiddle lesson this eve! As great as it is to be so close to London, it's also a bit of a pain. It took me an hour and a half to get there, for a two hour fiddle session. For you math wizzes out there, that's 3 hours in transit for 2 hours of playing. If I lived further away, it wouldn't even be an option, so I wouldn't have to worry about transit times.
The lesson was fun though. We learned two Irish tunes, and a few bowing techniques. There were a LOT of us. As in, more than 30. But the price is right, even after you factor in transit fare. Even so, the guy must be making a killing.
It's a mixed ability class, so there's a bit too much for me to focus on as far as technique goes (I can barely get the notes). Once again, I'm at the bottom of the lot by say... 10 years of experience? This is why adults never learn anything new. It's too depressing to constantly be in way over your head. Or be stuck with the 5 year olds. Who can still play better than you. See, with private lessons, at least you don't REALISE how bad you are :P
I also started my group fiddle lesson this eve! As great as it is to be so close to London, it's also a bit of a pain. It took me an hour and a half to get there, for a two hour fiddle session. For you math wizzes out there, that's 3 hours in transit for 2 hours of playing. If I lived further away, it wouldn't even be an option, so I wouldn't have to worry about transit times.
The lesson was fun though. We learned two Irish tunes, and a few bowing techniques. There were a LOT of us. As in, more than 30. But the price is right, even after you factor in transit fare. Even so, the guy must be making a killing.
It's a mixed ability class, so there's a bit too much for me to focus on as far as technique goes (I can barely get the notes). Once again, I'm at the bottom of the lot by say... 10 years of experience? This is why adults never learn anything new. It's too depressing to constantly be in way over your head. Or be stuck with the 5 year olds. Who can still play better than you. See, with private lessons, at least you don't REALISE how bad you are :P
Tuesday 20 September 2011
Day 1: Survived
I did my job shadowing today, after my aborted appointment yesterday (I got all the way there only to receive a call as I was walking up the steps, rescheduling for the next day). I'm very glad that I had a chance to see how students and teachers interact here, and to experience the behaviour expectation. It's very different from Canada, where we're very careful about the child's self-esteem.
I spent the morning in a reception class (the second year of schooling, aimed at 4 year olds), and the afternoon in a Year 2 class (the equivalent of Canadian Grade 1). Most of my teaching experience is with 10 to 12 year olds, so this was a great opportunity for me. I'm going to have to be careful about being sucked in by the big doe eyes and "Miss, miss, miss" in their cute little English accents. I can probably also deal with practical things like wet pants, but am completely useless with the constant "He hit me", or "I want to go home". I'm also more likely to laugh if a kid falls instead of cooing and comforting. I'm in complete awe of Kindergarten teachers' patience and ability, and have no inclination of joining their ranks.
I spent the morning in a reception class (the second year of schooling, aimed at 4 year olds), and the afternoon in a Year 2 class (the equivalent of Canadian Grade 1). Most of my teaching experience is with 10 to 12 year olds, so this was a great opportunity for me. I'm going to have to be careful about being sucked in by the big doe eyes and "Miss, miss, miss" in their cute little English accents. I can probably also deal with practical things like wet pants, but am completely useless with the constant "He hit me", or "I want to go home". I'm also more likely to laugh if a kid falls instead of cooing and comforting. I'm in complete awe of Kindergarten teachers' patience and ability, and have no inclination of joining their ranks.
Saturday 17 September 2011
Chocolate Box England
Spending the last couple of days with the Hills in Rugby have been wonderful. Everywhere we have gone on this trip we have been warmly welcomed and well looked after. The Hills are no exception. Diane is very caring, super organised and the perfect hostess. Stuart is likewise, and tops it off with incredible meals.
Yesterday we explored the Cotswolds, which are well known for its warm, honey coloured stone. Stuart is also a professional photographer (on top of being a retired school teacher and a gourmet cook). I remember being inspired by his photography as a girl, growing up in Vanuatu. He would photograph the horse club events, and capture both the events and more intimate moments. My family still has a lot of his photos on our walls.
Well, my mum and I were blessed with his tutelage on our Cotswold trip. He sees things that I miss, or that I simply can’t see. But we had lessons on our cameras, different options that they include, what to look at when we’re framing our photos, and lighting, among other details. A great opportunity in a gorgeous part of the country.
Last night we looked through some of the wedding work he’s done. I’m going to start saving now, because now that I’ve seen what a wedding album can look like, I don’t think that I can go back.
Yesterday we explored the Cotswolds, which are well known for its warm, honey coloured stone. Stuart is also a professional photographer (on top of being a retired school teacher and a gourmet cook). I remember being inspired by his photography as a girl, growing up in Vanuatu. He would photograph the horse club events, and capture both the events and more intimate moments. My family still has a lot of his photos on our walls.
Well, my mum and I were blessed with his tutelage on our Cotswold trip. He sees things that I miss, or that I simply can’t see. But we had lessons on our cameras, different options that they include, what to look at when we’re framing our photos, and lighting, among other details. A great opportunity in a gorgeous part of the country.
Last night we looked through some of the wedding work he’s done. I’m going to start saving now, because now that I’ve seen what a wedding album can look like, I don’t think that I can go back.
Friday 16 September 2011
Well that was lame...
I know, I know... I’m not doing too well with the daily updates. So today you get three.
Yesterday we visited Nottingham... home of Robin Hood’s arch-nemesis. The place was a little worse for wear. All the tourist attractions seemed to have been closed for a while. At first we thought it was the recession, but even the signs explaining about the caves and passageways under the city were so yellowed and bleached blank that it was obvious that tourism in Nottingham has been in trouble for a wee bit longer than that.
What we didn’t know, and were informed by the Hills upon arrival to Rugby, is that Nottingham is infamous for its crime. I think they need to bring Robin Hood and his merry men back.
Yesterday we visited Nottingham... home of Robin Hood’s arch-nemesis. The place was a little worse for wear. All the tourist attractions seemed to have been closed for a while. At first we thought it was the recession, but even the signs explaining about the caves and passageways under the city were so yellowed and bleached blank that it was obvious that tourism in Nottingham has been in trouble for a wee bit longer than that.
What we didn’t know, and were informed by the Hills upon arrival to Rugby, is that Nottingham is infamous for its crime. I think they need to bring Robin Hood and his merry men back.
Anyone have the Blists Hill blacksmith’s phone number?
As we pulled into Ironbridge, my dad decided on visiting a Victorian Museum (to be honest, I hadn’t been listening to the museum descriptions my mum had been reading out). We walked into a dark room that had brilliant videos playing on all four walls, accompanied by amplified sounds and voice overs, the whole depicting the history of ore mining and processing in the area. It was really well done! They managed to turn a subject that could be really boring into a stimulating presentation.
And then, as we exited through a hallway lined with blown up, yet incredibly high resolution, black and white pictures, we opened up the door into a new world. It was an outdoor, recreated Victorian Town. Think Barkerville, but way better. They had many more people employed as villagers, a greater variety of shops, and an incredible diversity of trades being worked. There were animals, a seamstress, ironworkers, a blacksmith, a candle maker, bakers, an artist, gardeners, miners, a lamplighter, and a post master among others. They also had a working fairground, and visiting school children dressed up and being given Victorian lessons. One of my dreams is to be able to spend a summer in a place like that and learn all the trades.
As Blists Hill was closing, we dragged ourselves away and back to the car to continue our journey to Shrewsbury. Have you ever heard of the Brother Cadfael series? It’s about a crusader turned monk, who faces and solves various mysteries. My dad bought the first book for my mum and I to read on the road.
Obviously by the time we arrived, the Abbey was closed. But it was neat to see from the outside, to read the history of the building, and my mum even found
“Brother Cadfael’s” herb garden. I use the term herb garden fairly loosely, as it was a rather neglected flower bed out front of the entrance.
Tuesday 13 September 2011
Could I be normal after all?
We’re back in Derby again. I love the Fey family. I always looked forward to going over to their place in Vanuatu. More than anything else I can remember. They lived a bit out of town, with fields on one side, a forest on the other, and a marsh and lagoon on the third. We had all sorts of adventures, mostly involving bushwhacking into the unknown, discovering a “witch’s hut” in the middle of the forest, or returning saturated in mud. Pretty much running wild, as I did from the age of 6-11.
As a kid, I hung out with Hannah, who was a couple of years older than me. I was frankly terrified of Stephen, who was my age. Something about him coming after us with a machete one time. Over a game of UNO if I remember correctly? (Yes, I know that some of you are thinking that that sounds more like something I would have done.) Anyway, he turned out to be a pretty good guy. It’s been especially fun getting to know someone who had the same childhood experiences as me. It’s a bit of a relief knowing that Vanuatu was not a part of my wild imagination.
I’m also really looking forward to reconnecting with Hannah, who happens to live in London. Yay! She’s married now and has a son. It’s strange connecting the people in your memory with who they have become.
As a kid, I hung out with Hannah, who was a couple of years older than me. I was frankly terrified of Stephen, who was my age. Something about him coming after us with a machete one time. Over a game of UNO if I remember correctly? (Yes, I know that some of you are thinking that that sounds more like something I would have done.) Anyway, he turned out to be a pretty good guy. It’s been especially fun getting to know someone who had the same childhood experiences as me. It’s a bit of a relief knowing that Vanuatu was not a part of my wild imagination.
I’m also really looking forward to reconnecting with Hannah, who happens to live in London. Yay! She’s married now and has a son. It’s strange connecting the people in your memory with who they have become.
When do I get my official certificate in the mail?
√ Haggis
√ Blood Pudding
√ Whisky
√ Visited my ancestral castle
√ Attended genuine Highland Games
(Did I miss anything?)
So when do I get my "I'm Scottish" certificate in the mail?
We visited Blair Castle yesterday - I'm a Murray through my Grandmother on my mother's side. It was only slightly tainted by my father telling anyone who would listen that his wife was here to claim the castle. No one thought it was funny.
It was actually a pretty cool visit. We were blasted with pipe music as soon as we walked into the ballroom. A visiting pipe band was performing in the "ballroom". I put ballroom in quotations, because I have never seen or imagined such a sight - there were antlers everywhere.
It was also very neat to look at the impressive, full sized portraits and imagine that we might be related to these people (though I doubt my branch of the family was ruling class, or we wouldn't have ended up in North America.) Reading the information plaques also took on new meaning. Blair castle was the last castle to be laid siege to in Scotland - it was during the Jacobite rebellion, and it was headed by the brother of the laird inside the castle.
We never did get to Culloden though. I would have liked to visit it, though I suppose I still have a year here.
√ Blood Pudding
√ Whisky
√ Visited my ancestral castle
√ Attended genuine Highland Games
(Did I miss anything?)
So when do I get my "I'm Scottish" certificate in the mail?
We visited Blair Castle yesterday - I'm a Murray through my Grandmother on my mother's side. It was only slightly tainted by my father telling anyone who would listen that his wife was here to claim the castle. No one thought it was funny.
It was actually a pretty cool visit. We were blasted with pipe music as soon as we walked into the ballroom. A visiting pipe band was performing in the "ballroom". I put ballroom in quotations, because I have never seen or imagined such a sight - there were antlers everywhere.
We never did get to Culloden though. I would have liked to visit it, though I suppose I still have a year here.
Sunday 11 September 2011
“Squirrel!” ... I mean, “Pheasant!”
We’re at my mum’s cousin’s place in Scotland right now. It’s been like stepping into a different world. They live in what used to be a steading and carriage house, which used to belong to a mansion down the hill. When you pull off the road, you drive through the trees up a narrow lane and along a gurgling brook. “Allt Mor”, the house, is a a stone structure with arched doors and windows, surrounded by colourful flowers.
Bud used to be the gamekeeper for an estate further north, and still has something to do with the local deer culling (hunting is very different here from hunting in the Yukon. If you don’t cull your herd, the Crown comes in and does it for you. And charges you for it. And you don’t shoot the biggest buck.) For dinner we had venison layered with homegrown potatoes, salad from the garden, and freshly baked bread. For breakfast, porridge. Very Scottish.
Bud and Jennifer have done a LOT of work to the steading. We looked through some pictures last night. When they bought it, the animals were still living in it. The room I’m staying in used to have sheep. Over the last 20 years, they’ve gutted it, pulled up the various flooring, bashed out the bricked up windows, and rebuilt it using old-time techniques. I don’t think Bud used a single nail in the whole house. And Jennifer has done an incredible job decorating the inside.
They still have a couple of their old bird dogs too. I hadn’t realized how complex their training is! We took them on a walk last night and Bud was showing and explaining some of it to me There are pheasants everywhere here. On our walk we met the gamekeeper for a neighboring estate out doing his rounds. He laughed as he told us that it was his job to baby and painstakingly take care of the pheasants for 6 months of the year, and then help shoot them all the other 6 months of the year.
Bud used to be the gamekeeper for an estate further north, and still has something to do with the local deer culling (hunting is very different here from hunting in the Yukon. If you don’t cull your herd, the Crown comes in and does it for you. And charges you for it. And you don’t shoot the biggest buck.) For dinner we had venison layered with homegrown potatoes, salad from the garden, and freshly baked bread. For breakfast, porridge. Very Scottish.
Bud and Jennifer have done a LOT of work to the steading. We looked through some pictures last night. When they bought it, the animals were still living in it. The room I’m staying in used to have sheep. Over the last 20 years, they’ve gutted it, pulled up the various flooring, bashed out the bricked up windows, and rebuilt it using old-time techniques. I don’t think Bud used a single nail in the whole house. And Jennifer has done an incredible job decorating the inside.
They still have a couple of their old bird dogs too. I hadn’t realized how complex their training is! We took them on a walk last night and Bud was showing and explaining some of it to me There are pheasants everywhere here. On our walk we met the gamekeeper for a neighboring estate out doing his rounds. He laughed as he told us that it was his job to baby and painstakingly take care of the pheasants for 6 months of the year, and then help shoot them all the other 6 months of the year.
Tuesday 6 September 2011
Gotta be willing to laugh at yourself
So we pull up to our hotel two nights ago, a tall, very narrow, decrepit, old building squished between two others. We’re given a key to Room 6. Then we find out that there’s only one room per floor. And no “lift”, but plenty of narrow, steep stairs. Loaded down with our gear (I was smart enough to bring a pack, but I also had my violin and laptop bag with me), we climb up to the 6th room, and guess what... the key doesn’t work. Turn the key upside down, and it’s a 9. Oh.
Other adventures in Wales: The Welsh have a few specialty food items, such as cockles and laverbread. We were directed to an indoor market to get our hands on some fresh samples. The cockles don’t hold much interest for me, as seafood is not to my taste, but I was eager to try the laverbread. We head straight to a bakery stall, but as I make my way around the stall, I can’t see any signs for “laverbread”. My mum asks the lady where we can get some, and she patiently points us down an aisle, and brightly tells us that Carol Watts makes the best. So we troop down the aisle, and find Carol Watts’ stall. A seafood stall?!? Laverbread is seaweed. Boiled and put through a blender. I settled for a couple Welsh cakes. The lady at the bakery stall must have had a good laugh at us as we were walking away. I wonder how many ignorant tourists make the same mistake.
We’ve stayed in Cardiff the last couple of nights, and have been exploring the South of Wales. There are castles everywhere! Mostly in ruins, but free or cheap to explore. For example, in Swansea, you step out of a Marks & Spencer shop onto a bustling shopping street, and smack, dab in the middle of the block is a green space with the Swansea Castle ruins. I think there are 6 castles on the Swansea peninsula alone.
There are also lots of fun shops. They have “arcades” here, that look like narrow alleyways, with fun, unique store fronts lining them. But even though it looks like you’re outside, the alleyways are covered. Now I just need to continue dropping the pounds so that I can fit into these UK clothes.
Other adventures in Wales: The Welsh have a few specialty food items, such as cockles and laverbread. We were directed to an indoor market to get our hands on some fresh samples. The cockles don’t hold much interest for me, as seafood is not to my taste, but I was eager to try the laverbread. We head straight to a bakery stall, but as I make my way around the stall, I can’t see any signs for “laverbread”. My mum asks the lady where we can get some, and she patiently points us down an aisle, and brightly tells us that Carol Watts makes the best. So we troop down the aisle, and find Carol Watts’ stall. A seafood stall?!? Laverbread is seaweed. Boiled and put through a blender. I settled for a couple Welsh cakes. The lady at the bakery stall must have had a good laugh at us as we were walking away. I wonder how many ignorant tourists make the same mistake.
We’ve stayed in Cardiff the last couple of nights, and have been exploring the South of Wales. There are castles everywhere! Mostly in ruins, but free or cheap to explore. For example, in Swansea, you step out of a Marks & Spencer shop onto a bustling shopping street, and smack, dab in the middle of the block is a green space with the Swansea Castle ruins. I think there are 6 castles on the Swansea peninsula alone.
There are also lots of fun shops. They have “arcades” here, that look like narrow alleyways, with fun, unique store fronts lining them. But even though it looks like you’re outside, the alleyways are covered. Now I just need to continue dropping the pounds so that I can fit into these UK clothes.
Facebook Photo Albums:
Sunday 4 September 2011
Don’t worry... I’m OK, and the car’s OK
So I’m getting pretty good at zipping around the narrow English back roads (termed “highways” here). However, I’ve gotten into my first accident. A deer hit me. Jumped right out of the forest and ran into the back of my car. It seemed to only be a bit stunned, but the one after got flattened by the big semi coming the other way.
Other than this slight shadow, today was another excellent day. Knowing how big a tourist trap Stonehenge is, we were going to simply do a drive-by on the way to the Cerne Abbas Giant (my Dad’s special request - the hill drawing, not Stonehenge. You’ll understand when you see the pictures). But it was a bit of a traffic jam getting there, so we decided to pull in and have a look anyway. It’s quite impressive! And we got closer than I’d imagined, and instead of being held back by a big metal fence, there was only a little rope at about knee height. They also had a free audio tour that was quite good.
After swinging by the Cerne Abbas Giant, we were directed along more twisty, narrow, blind-cornered “highways” through the countryside on our way to Cheddar Gorge. I’ve decided that after I marry my Highland Scotsman in a kilt, we will eventually retire in South Western England. The villages are super cute, nestled among rolling hills dotted with forests, crops and livestock.
Cheddar Gorge deserves much more of my time than I was able to give it. The gorge itself is quite spectacular. I’d love to take a long walk along the ridge, and there are some pretty cool caves that I’m dying to explore. We got there just as everything was closing though, so we didn’t even manage to get a tour of the Cheddar Cheese factory, though we were able to sample some unique and pungent cheddars at the factory store. And I thought cheddar was cheddar.
Other than this slight shadow, today was another excellent day. Knowing how big a tourist trap Stonehenge is, we were going to simply do a drive-by on the way to the Cerne Abbas Giant (my Dad’s special request - the hill drawing, not Stonehenge. You’ll understand when you see the pictures). But it was a bit of a traffic jam getting there, so we decided to pull in and have a look anyway. It’s quite impressive! And we got closer than I’d imagined, and instead of being held back by a big metal fence, there was only a little rope at about knee height. They also had a free audio tour that was quite good.
After swinging by the Cerne Abbas Giant, we were directed along more twisty, narrow, blind-cornered “highways” through the countryside on our way to Cheddar Gorge. I’ve decided that after I marry my Highland Scotsman in a kilt, we will eventually retire in South Western England. The villages are super cute, nestled among rolling hills dotted with forests, crops and livestock.
Cheddar Gorge deserves much more of my time than I was able to give it. The gorge itself is quite spectacular. I’d love to take a long walk along the ridge, and there are some pretty cool caves that I’m dying to explore. We got there just as everything was closing though, so we didn’t even manage to get a tour of the Cheddar Cheese factory, though we were able to sample some unique and pungent cheddars at the factory store. And I thought cheddar was cheddar.
Saturday 3 September 2011
Leeds Castle... NOT in Leeds
We spent the night at The Duke of Cumberland Hotel... perhaps a popular man in England, but I highly doubt you would find a hotel named after him in the Scottish Highlands...
But it was a super cute place, and the town of Whitstable is an ideal English seaside vacation town.
Leeds Castle came highly recommended from a few people, both to my mum and me. I scoffed a bit at the idea, having loved Culzean Castle so much. But it was gorgeous. Not a large castle, but the grounds were vast and well sculpted.
I think I prefer talking to the interpreters standing around the rooms better than reading the information sheets. They know all sorts of interesting little things, and don’t just spew off a bunch of names and dates *yawn*.
AND there was a hedge maze on the grounds. I’ve always wanted to try a hedge maze. And when you got to the centre, there was an underground passageway that led out from the maze. AND there was an aviary, AND a bird show (I had no idea that you could train storks), AND a dog collar museum.
But it was a super cute place, and the town of Whitstable is an ideal English seaside vacation town.
Leeds Castle came highly recommended from a few people, both to my mum and me. I scoffed a bit at the idea, having loved Culzean Castle so much. But it was gorgeous. Not a large castle, but the grounds were vast and well sculpted.
I think I prefer talking to the interpreters standing around the rooms better than reading the information sheets. They know all sorts of interesting little things, and don’t just spew off a bunch of names and dates *yawn*.
AND there was a hedge maze on the grounds. I’ve always wanted to try a hedge maze. And when you got to the centre, there was an underground passageway that led out from the maze. AND there was an aviary, AND a bird show (I had no idea that you could train storks), AND a dog collar museum.
Thursday 1 September 2011
Glasgow/Edinburgh/Culzean (Sorry, this is going to be a long one!)
With lots of excitement and a few misgivings, we head down to the car rental place. We are headed to Glasgow for the long weekend. Jody (a guy), the housing coordinator and our main connection with the UK community, looked terrified when we told him. But he lent us his TomTom.
11 Hours on one tank of diesel (40 gal). Amazing. However, the trip was only supposed to take us 6.5 hours. Our first lesson re:UK traffic. Second lesson: they are crazy. They zip in and out, cutting you off, even when there’s plenty of room ahead of you. Third lesson: people actually obey the speed limits here. As in, everyone drives 2 MPH’s below the speed limit (except for some of the aforementioned drivers). Fourth lesson: everything in this country is metric, except for their speed limits. Fifth lesson: Roundabouts are your friends (I thought that I’d hate them). Sixth lesson: These cities are NOT traffic friendly; traffic lights are poorly timed and need to have sensors installed, road lines need to be repainted, and traffic lanes made straight and MUCH more clear. Building the cities before vehicles were invented is no excuse. Seventh lesson: nothing is pronounced the way it’s written, so don’t ask for directions. On about the trip.
So Glasgow was a bit of a disappointment. If you’re not into art, or shopping at chain stores they have plenty of in London, there’s not much to do. Maybe we needed a local guide. I can’t remember who recommended it to me, but if you have to choose, stay in Edinburgh. However, it was an excellent home base for the surrounding areas. And they were filming a Brad Pitt movie in George Square, which they turned it into Philadelphia. They had to change street signs and everything. I sure hope it rains a lot in Philly ;)
Saturday we drove to Edinburgh, spent the day wandering around town, up to the castle, up something or else park hill, around various Fringe Fest stations. The crowds of people were very energizing, as well as the bright sun that broke through the clouds. We had planned on doing a tour of the castle, but decided to save our money, since we were going to Culzean (pronounced Culane). Amazing time, amazing sights.
Sunday was my favourite day of all. We spent most of the day at Culzean Castle. It was Knight and Princess training day, so the place was overrun by little ‘uns, but it also meant there were lots of treasure hunts around the grounds, demonstrations, and people walking around in traditional garb. I wanted my Knight certificate, but apparently I was too old to participate. Harumph. Next year, I borrow someone’s kid. However, they couldn’t stop me from looking for the little Lego man hidden in each of the castle rooms. What a great idea! They even move them around for people who come back several times a season. Gives the adults a chance to do their thing while keeping the kids out of their hair. And the castle was only a small portion of everything they had to offer! The stables had been turned into a cafe, the village into a visitor info centre/shops, there was a walled garden, an ice house, a gas house, a deer park, and who knows what else. It was perched on the edge of a cliff, with waves crashing below, and was surrounded by forest. Gorgeous.
We got back to Glasgow that evening just in time for service at the Baptist church next to hostel we were staying at. Baptist churches must be really big here, because they’re the only ones that I consistently keep running into. I was a bit embarrassed to walk in in my jean shorts, considering it was a cathedral style building, but needn't have worried. In fact, they were the closest church to Bethany I’ve experienced here so far. People were super friendly, casual and open, they raised their hands during worship, and even laid hands on each other and prayed a blessing when we would do our greetings back home. And I had the impression that they lived what they preached, and that church was definitely not just a Sunday thing.
Another huge highlight was finding a little local pub called Ben Nevis. We were looking for a more authentic experience, and I was looking in particular for some Scottish music (downtown is covered in trendy bars full of tourists). Murray, the bartender who looked like he wasn’t old enough to be working there (I’m starting to feel old I think), was super knowledgeable, and told us a bit about the different types of whisky, and gave us a sampling of three different kinds. Jason, I would like to happily report that NONE of them tasted like I was chewing on a cedar plank, unlike that stuff you tried to feed me. AND people started wandering in with their instruments. One girl even handed her fiddle over to me for a bit.
11 Hours on one tank of diesel (40 gal). Amazing. However, the trip was only supposed to take us 6.5 hours. Our first lesson re:UK traffic. Second lesson: they are crazy. They zip in and out, cutting you off, even when there’s plenty of room ahead of you. Third lesson: people actually obey the speed limits here. As in, everyone drives 2 MPH’s below the speed limit (except for some of the aforementioned drivers). Fourth lesson: everything in this country is metric, except for their speed limits. Fifth lesson: Roundabouts are your friends (I thought that I’d hate them). Sixth lesson: These cities are NOT traffic friendly; traffic lights are poorly timed and need to have sensors installed, road lines need to be repainted, and traffic lanes made straight and MUCH more clear. Building the cities before vehicles were invented is no excuse. Seventh lesson: nothing is pronounced the way it’s written, so don’t ask for directions. On about the trip.
So Glasgow was a bit of a disappointment. If you’re not into art, or shopping at chain stores they have plenty of in London, there’s not much to do. Maybe we needed a local guide. I can’t remember who recommended it to me, but if you have to choose, stay in Edinburgh. However, it was an excellent home base for the surrounding areas. And they were filming a Brad Pitt movie in George Square, which they turned it into Philadelphia. They had to change street signs and everything. I sure hope it rains a lot in Philly ;)
Saturday we drove to Edinburgh, spent the day wandering around town, up to the castle, up something or else park hill, around various Fringe Fest stations. The crowds of people were very energizing, as well as the bright sun that broke through the clouds. We had planned on doing a tour of the castle, but decided to save our money, since we were going to Culzean (pronounced Culane). Amazing time, amazing sights.
Sunday was my favourite day of all. We spent most of the day at Culzean Castle. It was Knight and Princess training day, so the place was overrun by little ‘uns, but it also meant there were lots of treasure hunts around the grounds, demonstrations, and people walking around in traditional garb. I wanted my Knight certificate, but apparently I was too old to participate. Harumph. Next year, I borrow someone’s kid. However, they couldn’t stop me from looking for the little Lego man hidden in each of the castle rooms. What a great idea! They even move them around for people who come back several times a season. Gives the adults a chance to do their thing while keeping the kids out of their hair. And the castle was only a small portion of everything they had to offer! The stables had been turned into a cafe, the village into a visitor info centre/shops, there was a walled garden, an ice house, a gas house, a deer park, and who knows what else. It was perched on the edge of a cliff, with waves crashing below, and was surrounded by forest. Gorgeous.
We got back to Glasgow that evening just in time for service at the Baptist church next to hostel we were staying at. Baptist churches must be really big here, because they’re the only ones that I consistently keep running into. I was a bit embarrassed to walk in in my jean shorts, considering it was a cathedral style building, but needn't have worried. In fact, they were the closest church to Bethany I’ve experienced here so far. People were super friendly, casual and open, they raised their hands during worship, and even laid hands on each other and prayed a blessing when we would do our greetings back home. And I had the impression that they lived what they preached, and that church was definitely not just a Sunday thing.
Another huge highlight was finding a little local pub called Ben Nevis. We were looking for a more authentic experience, and I was looking in particular for some Scottish music (downtown is covered in trendy bars full of tourists). Murray, the bartender who looked like he wasn’t old enough to be working there (I’m starting to feel old I think), was super knowledgeable, and told us a bit about the different types of whisky, and gave us a sampling of three different kinds. Jason, I would like to happily report that NONE of them tasted like I was chewing on a cedar plank, unlike that stuff you tried to feed me. AND people started wandering in with their instruments. One girl even handed her fiddle over to me for a bit.
My Ode to London Rush Hour
OK kids, today we’re going to learn a new game; it’s called Bumper Brellas! Last one with an eye wins.
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