TravelStream™ news feed for member french_rhubarb on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/french_rhubarb en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Sat, 07 Feb 2009 10:17:06 -0500 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1234019700/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1234019700/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1234019700/tpod.html Sat, 07 Feb 2009 10:17:06 -0500 Franglais - on holiday in England; on exchange to France.

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Staines, England, United Kingdom

Hey! One of my photos has been featured!!! If you go to the main page (www.travelpod.com) you should see, in the collection of featured photos, my pic of Westminster Abbey in the snow! But I think it is just for today that it will be up, so if you want to see it, hurry! Oooh, how exciting!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1233925320/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1233925320/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1233925320/tpod.html Fri, 06 Feb 2009 13:10:08 -0500 Franglais - on holiday in England; on exchange to France.

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Staines, England, United Kingdom

On Tuesday morning, Kathy, Colin, Tom (his school was closed due to snow) and I went to a "Breakfast screening" of Mamma Mia (yes, we know it is already out on DVD). The "breakfast" part meant that we could have a free coffee and pain au chocolat before the film.

I have seen the film before, but I do love it so much. As Meryl Steep began singing "The Winner Takes It All" to Pierce Brosnan, everything went dark. I wondered whether the snow had caused a power failure. The film started up again, and for a moment it looked as if everything was okay, but within seconds it was dead again. And again. And then it was just sound, no picture. And then the house lights went up at staff were out the front apologising and talking about a malfunctioning prjector and refunds. They were going to keep trying, and if people wanted to wait 10 minutes, they could. We did. And they eventually got it running again, but I was sure it was going to cut out at any moment. It didn't, and we finished the film, which was good, as I really do love it! But hey! Who as ever had that happen to them at a cinema? There are probably lots of people, actually, but never before had it happened when I was there - and it was brilliant! Haha!



Back at Kathy's, after the film, it was snow time. Tom was very keep to built a snow Winnie the Pooh, so out we went, Kathy, Tom and I, to build snow bears. I decided to give giant snow balls a try, rolling them along the ground like they do in films & books. It worked! But because the snow was quite a thin layer, my tracks were altogether too telling.



Kathy, Tom and I all made individual bears, and mine ended up wearing Tom's scarf, while Tom ended up throwing bits of Kathy's bear at her as snow balls.




This esculated into great snow ball fights, at one point Tom chasing me around and around a circular garden and vice versa. We were out there for quite some time, but not doing much else, so I can't really make big long paragraphs about it to make room for my plethora of pictures.



That evening, Kathy, Colin and I went to see a play of 'Sir Gawain & The Green Knight', which was incredible. Done with only 4 actors, it was quite modern and art-y, yet a fantastic performance of the story. I was blown away! And the soundtrack was amazing, sort of medieval chamber music, set to a beat and with awesome keychanges, making it sound edgy and modern as well as medieval and Authurian. And in was hilarious - it was a brilliant interpretation, and almost Monty-Pythonesque in some places. Very well done - and a great translation (Armitage).




Home. Sleep. Next Morning.

It hadn't snowed again, so all the snow was melting - including my snow bear, who had survived honourable overnight.




I spent the morning playing with Tom - he was telling me everybody's ages, and the names of cricketters and their famous catches. Then he got out his toy dinosaurs and acted out a cricket game, and he commentated like a little champion! It was amazing! I was genuinely impressed. I now know the names of a lot of the England team, or can at least recognise the names, and I know that at least 2 are left handed.




After lunch, Kathy and I went out into the town and had a poke around a medievel furniature museum and then had hot chocolate in a cafe, while we chatted and got to know each other a little better (being 18 year older than me and living in Canberra, we had never had much opportunity to be close, and she moved to England when I was 11, so we haven't really seen each other since we could talk as equals). We had a wonderful talk, and she is a really super person. Love her!




Back home.

Over dinner Kathy, Colin and I all chatted about the family, piecing together histories, and anecdotes, catching up with the Australian family news. We were up until midnight looking at photos and the family tree (which Uncle Bert had given me a copy of). It was such a lovely evening. Brilliant indeed.

Sleep.

In the morning, when I woke up, I looked out the window. I was greeted by visions of fresh, glittering whiteness. It had snowed overnight. I packed, had a call from a mum who was concerned about my travelling considering the forecast snow, watched Tom play cricket in the hall way wearing his policeman's hat ("cricket helmet"), and then said good bye to Tom as Colin took him off to school.



Kathy and Ii were waiting for olin to get back before going down to the bus station, but time was ticking away and we had no choice but to leave. We arrived at the bus, and who would you think we saw? None other than Mr. Grumpy himself, the coach driver I had had on the way over. The first thing he did was tell us of - we were there 7 minutes before the coach was due to leave, & we were meant to have been there 10. He really told us off! And if he had had a slightly more scary role than a coach driver, I may have been scared. What a weirdo! Anyway, I got on the bus, and listened as he yelled at some other people. I heard Kathy on the phone to Colin, so I went up the front and said good bye to him via phone. Then it was time to leave.

The trip was fine, despite the snow, and at Goucester, where we stopped for another driver to drive for an hour (although our main driver stayed on the bus to take over agai after that), our driver had a great time telling the other driver about the guy who had driven up beside the coach just as it was pulling away, which he had refused to let on - "It was ten thirty-THREE!" the driver boomed gleefully, expecting horror at the bold lateness of the passenger and wild support for his meticulous punctuality by not stopping for him. He seems to me like the type of person who enjoys making out other people as fools, and he, himself, as brilliantly organised and correct. The new bus driver was a nice guy, so said "oh, right" as understandingly as he could, before sitting in the driver's seat and making a friendly and welcoming announcement over the loud speaker.




We arrived at London 10 minutes early, and I walked to London Victoria Train Station, where I enjoyed a hot chocolate before catching a train to Staines, a nice British bloke helping me get my suitcase on the train, changing at Clapham Junction, where another nice British bloke helped me get my suit case off the train. I arrived at Staines, nearly tripped over as I lugged my suitcase off (someone had sort of offered to help, but I had declined, which only made me look more foolish - but on the first train the blokes had said "here, let me help you" and "I'll get that off for you, if you'd like", which made it easy to say "yes please" & "thank you". This guy at Staines phrase his question differently: "Are you alright with that?" which, while still kind and thoughtful, made the automatic response "yes, I'm fine", not "yes, you can help". I would have had to have said "actually.. would you mind?", which would turn it into me asking him, which was just a bit... more awkward. It wasn't a big problem or anything, just a little observation that how you phrase your question affect the answer - does it sound like you are asking out of politeness, or that you are genuinely ready to help?).

I arrived at Debs and Rob's, where Rob had come hom early from work to be here. Nice to be back here, it's true (and to have the day while the other two are at work to just sit on the computer updating my blog). Debs cooked cheese and spinach lasagne for dinner, and then we had Cornish ice cream and watched an episode of "Tribe", and Debs and Rob laughed at me because I shortened the word "documentary" to "doco". Apparently they don't do that over here.

So, here I am. Tomorrow night I catch a big plane. It leaved at 9:30pm, so quite a late flight. I will wake up Saturday morning, about 9, I would guess (8pm Saturday in Australia), I will be awake all day, and get on a plane at 9:30pm (8:30am Sunday in Australia), I then have an 11 hour journey, a change in Bangkok, and then a 9 hour journey, arriving in Sydney 6:30am Monday morning - that is 34 1/2 hours after I first wake up on Saturday morning here. I will try to sleep, of course, but coming over I hardly slept - I find it tricky to sleep on those long flights because you are soooo uncomfortable. And I will be excited!

I am ready to come home, you know? I am sure I will regret spending today inside on my blog instead of making the most of my last full day in England, but it is sooooo grey and horrible outside (it has been raining, so all the snow is washed away) and it is cold! I think we are going to the cinema tonight to see Revolutionary Road.

I may get rugged up and go for a wonder into Staines shopping area soon - take my book and find a nice cafe or something. I have to do something!

But... as much as I have ADORED my time away, I am ready to come home. Especially now it has all slowed down. I am ready to have my own things, and unpack my suitcase, and buy and cook my own food again, and have internet access all the time, and show off all my new stuff, and unpack the boxes I sent home from France & find out what I put in them, and enroll for honours, and lodge my insurance claim, and get my teeth fixed, and show off my photos (the ones I have since Dublin, and the older onces I can get from Rach and La Rochelle freinds). And my friends... I am looking forward to seeing my friends again. And my mum, and my gran. Very much looking forward to that...

For this trip, Europe & the U.K. have given me all they can. So, until next time, I bid the U.K. adieu, and to you I say: see you Sooon!!!!!!!

Love you all! Thanks for coming with me on the trip via my blog. Sorry I wasn't so good at updating while in La Rochelle. Hope these last few weeks of travelling has made up for my previous silence.
Expect a final entry when I am home with any news of the flight, and my feelings on being home.


Bisous!

Gem
xox

P.S. there is a video I have uploaded to this entry which I can't weave through the text like a photo, so make sure you see it if you are interested - up the top of the entry, where the thumbnails are click "view all 11 thumbnails" or something like that, and you should be able to find the video in there.

Also, I was featured in Travelpod's Blog! Check it out: http://blog.travelpod.com/
I am in the England Snowstorms entry, from February 2. Don't know why they chose that photo - I don't think it shows the snow very well!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1233861780/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1233861780/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1233861780/tpod.html Fri, 06 Feb 2009 07:55:34 -0500 Franglais - on holiday in England; on exchange to France.

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Hereford, England, United Kingdom

What a couple of days!




On Sunday, February 1, it started snowing. I was so stoked! I had hoped for it to snow before I went home, but I was losing hope - the only snow I had seen we a 10 minute light flurry in Paris with Rachel. But here is was - still deciding whether or not to settle, but definately falling from the sky: tentatively at first, but gradually growing bolder and wilder. By the night, there was a thin sheet of snow settled on the cold land, and I couldn't resist writing my name in the snow, a sort of Gemma-was-here or sticking-the-flag-on-new-land achievement.





In the morning, the snow had only been added too, and we set out for the bus in the darkness, set off with the untouched snow throwing the light of the street lamps back at us.

At 7:10 am, I had said my goodbyes and was on the bus. There is something undeniably adventurous about being on a bus in the early hours of the morning. The radio was on and listing off all the schools that were closed that day. The sun rose, and the sparkly snow smiled, making me squint (nice alliteration, eh?). But then we were on the A12, weren't we? The famously horrible A12.





And yes, we stopped. For a very long time. The coach driver came and chatted to us all - he had been in contact with the coach company, trying to find out what to do; no one had any answers. Eventually the police came and directed the bus into a queue with other heavy vehicles to wait for gritting to be laid on the "hill" (what hill?), and beside as the cars moved past, being able to get up the "hill" despite the icy surface.



After an hour of sitting the this queue, we finially moved again. The going wasn't too bad from there - still slow, as safety required, but moving - but the problem was... the driver was meant to stop at 10:30, when he was to arrive at London, but it wasalready past this time, and apparently the coach company is really strict with their tacometer thingys, & it could be illegal for him to drive over time...



He was advised to drive as far as he could and then terminate, "but where does that leave you? I can't just leave you stranded!" he said to us, as he tried to figure out what to do. So, we got to the next stop that was still open - Romford. There he had arranged with the coach company for a taxi top be waiting to take us the rest of the way to London Victoria.




We waited at Romford for 30 minutes waiting for the taxi, meanwhile the coach behind us, which had managed to miss waiting for the gritting, sailed past (slowly, of course), still roughly on time, driver still under his tacometer thingy - empty. If the company had been more organised, he could have stopped, collected us, and continued on his (and our!) way, but the taxis had been called already, so it was too late.

After having sat there waiting for 30 minutes, the driver somehow realised that the ambulance, which was sitting in front of us, was our ride... Suddenly, we 5 coach passengers were loading ourselves into the back of the ambulance, chatting to each other, and the driver, as if we were all old friends - an older lady and I had already been chatting for the 30 minutes while waiting for the taxis.




In the ambulance, the driver asks, "does anyone know the way to Victoria Coach Station?". He had no idea, and his GPS wasn't recognising the destination. He passed a street directory over, and an older gentleman took up the challenge. Suddenly England was giving me exactly what I had found lacking - real life British sitcom: this was why I loved England, I expected the Brit sitcoms to be the way of life over here, but had found it astoundingly... normal. But now I was feeling England was finally living up to my hopes for it.







The trip into London took about an hour, and yes, we did have to swing by the hospital (to drop something off). Everything in London was snowy, Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, Tube Station Signs, and there were people throwing snowballs or building snowmen everwhere. The snow may have been a hassle, but a more beautiful and joy-giving hassle you have never seen before in your life (unless you're a parent, in which case I guess you could say the same for your kids).



Finally, 3 hours and 15 minutes late, we arrived at Victoria Coach Station at 1:45. I had missed my 12pm connection, so had to wait until 4:30 for the next coach to Hereford. I continued to chat to the lady I had met on the bus until 3pm, when her connecting coach, and then there was a Danish woman who overheard that I was going to Hereford - so was she.





In the current circumstances, everything was such a mess, and no one had any idea what was going on, so if you founf anyone trying to do the same thing as you, you stuck together - made a team. We were team Hereford. She was lovely - her accent sounded South African, but no, it was Danish. She was lovely and we passed the time chatting.



At 4:15 we realised something weird. The bus had arrived, and the list of stops was up on the screen... Hereford certainly wasn't on it. I got out my timetable leaflet and found that there were in fact no less than TWO 444 busses due to leave at 4:30 - we must be the other one! So she ran back and found a departures screen, and yes, we needed the one at gate 18, not 9! (There had been no bus listed specifically for Hereford before), so I hurried through the bus station and found it, doors open, and driver standing impatently in front of the bus.




He took our tickets irritably, & sent us on board. It was great to finally be on the coach. With any luck, the next thing I would have to do would be step out and into my cousins car - in 4 hours' time. We soon left the coach station and were on our way (after our driver had grumbled at some people and told others to hurry up, and yelled at a guy whose first language obviously wasn't English - he was one Grumpy coach driver - I'm glad we hadn't had him for the morning coach; our first driver had been incredibly friendly and kind!).




And, 4 hours later, we were indeed at Hereford, only 10 minutes late. And there was Kathy, waiting. My mobile phone battery had died, so I hadn't been able to tell her that I was definately on this bus, so I was relieved to see she had decided to come out anyway, hoping that I was on it.

After a 5 minute drive, we were at her house, and I was shown to my room - the library. It was a fantastic room, with bookshelves climbing up the walls, and a big bed in the centre of the room covered in heavy, warm doonas of maroons, forest green, royal blues and warm browns, The ceiling was high, and the windows reached up towards it. And beside the bed had been put a tray, upon which was a kettle, coffee sachets and tea bags, a blue glass bottle of water, a glass and a mug. A jug of milk was put on the window sill, where it would keep cold over night. It was beautiful.

Tom, Kathy's 5 year old son, was already asleep. When her husband, Colin, arrived home, we all had giant bowls of pesto pasta and then went to check out the weather report while tasting hand made chocolates from a giant chocolate box.

Fantastic day.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1233508560/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1233508560/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1233508560/tpod.html Sun, 01 Feb 2009 13:13:39 -0500 Franglais - on holiday in England; on exchange to France.

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Wivenhoe, England, United Kingdom

Snow!

Snow, snow, snow!



There have been flurries of snow on and off all day long! It's brilliant!



I have been staring at it between bouts of packing. Most things fit into my suitcase, but that which doesn't can be thrown out/donated - it's not so hard, getting rid of a few things. =P

I have had a lovely time with Uncle Bert and Aunty Julie.

Visited lots of relatives, been to see Fiddler on the Roof at the theatre, and returned to the Roman wall in Colchester (I say "returned", as I was at this very spot when I was 10 years old).


been to a Barn Dance,



visited Woodbridge.



Yes, indeed, it has been most lovely.

Tomorrow it is on to cousin Kathy's, not far from the Welsh boarder. Lots of travelling Monday - cauch 7:10am - 10:20am (to London), and then another coach 12 - 4:10 (from London). Tuesday, we are going to the cinema to see Mamma Mia, and then Sir Gawain & the Green Knight (yes, straight after each other). Wednesday we will either just explore her town, or even go for a day trip into Wales. We'll see what happens! Then it's back to Debs' on Thursday, one day to appreciate being in England, and that Saturday I fly home (the equivalent of Sunday morning, Australian time), and I arrive home WAY TOO early Monday.



So, this is probably it for me. One last post when I get home to summarise, reflect, finish off etc, and I may get a chance to write about my time at Kathy's when I get to Debs', but we'll see.

I'll be home soon! Put some chocolate milk on ice for me.

]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1232626980/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1232626980/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1232626980/tpod.html Thu, 22 Jan 2009 07:43:16 -0500 Franglais - on holiday in England; on exchange to France.

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Wivenhoe, England, United Kingdom

Here I am at Wivenhoe.

Not too much to report. I am having a lovely and relaxing time with my Uncle Bert and Aunty Julie. We are seeing Aunty Lily tomorrow (Friday), AUnty Rita & Uncle Geoff on Sunday, and Aunty Noreen on Monday. Am still trying to make arrangements with cousin Kathy to see her on the weekend after or early next week.

I am feeling particularly lazy today. You can really feel it when you have been walking like mad for 5 months and then all of a sudden you are sitting all the time again. I would go for a walk but the wather over here! It's so grey and miserable! Not that it's any different to before, only now I have no reason to go out. Must force myself.

Just thought I would put up a couple of photos, which I haven't been able to do until now.

Lots of love to you all!! Se you really really soon!!!
(16 days until I leave, 18 days until I am home - whoa! That is soooo short!)
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1232212320/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1232212320/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1232212320/tpod.html Sat, 17 Jan 2009 14:17:18 -0500 Franglais - on holiday in England; on exchange to France.

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Staines, England, United Kingdom

Well here I am in Staines, back with my cousin.
It is lovely to see her, and her chap, Rob, again. And also lovely to be in a house. You know I haven't slept in a room by myself since... That time Bek was away... When was that? Mid-October? It felt odd, so much silence to think, and so much allowance to have the light on and read as late as you want.

Let me pick up where I left off -
Rach and I were in Camden. Woke up the next morning and headed down the road to Camden Markets! Debs had taken me there in August, and I had been so taken with them that I wanted to go back with Rach. I am glad we went! I made a glorious purchase, as did Rach. As far as I understand, we both had a great time, although hours of staring at merchandise can take it out of you a bit, so a hot drink certainly didn't go astray.

We actually had a very lucky day indeed that day. Rach got £20 off her purchase! And then, due to the price of my purchase, the man at the stall gave Rach something she wanted there to her for free; "a gift," he said. In the evening we went to the pub for dinner, and we asked if they had the veggie burgers left, and the lady said yes and we paid, but 5 minutes later she was back, saying even though she had called the kitchen and checked before saying yes, that there actually were none left - so she recommended a pasta dish, which was more expensive, and gave it to us for the price of the veggie burgers, and then gave us feel soft drinks. I have a feeling something else awesome happened that day, getting-things-cheap-wise, but I can't recall. Either way, luck us, hey?

The next day it was another early morning, this time for a somewhat more thrilling reason...
We caught a train out to Salisbury, where we paused to buy some toast and coffee at a little pub. It was a gorgeous little place, where the regulars were already in at 9:30 in the morning, and Flush was already laughing with Sweetheart (that was one of the cutomers and the lady behind the bar). She laid out our table with little straw placemats, and when someone knew came in he said "hello!" to the room. It felt like I had stepped back in time to a world where community still existed, even if it was only in the pub.

Then it was time. We caught the "Stonehenge Tour Bus" from outside the train station, and Rach and I were finally on our way, on a journey we had dreamed of since we first picked up that Traci Harding book in year 8. The tour bus, while a little more expensive than the regular old bus it replaced, was well worth the extra pouds, with the commentary on the passing town and coutryside. Rach and I sat at the front on the top of the red double decker (yes, enclosed, thankfully) and giggled.

We first sighted the stones far in the distance, and it was one of those moments that you have been wishing for for so long that you can't quite feel the excitement because suddenly you wonder if it is really that exciting after all - because nothing, surely, that is that exciting could ever be real, could ever be now. This kind of excitement only exists for things in the future.

But we got closer, and closer and my eyes were able to focus on them and there they were, standing ruined but proud. I had been told not to expect much, that they were small and disappointing, and you couldn't even get hear them, so as I saw them grow closer and larger in my eye, and saw that there was a ropped track around the stones where visitors walked, I was mightly impressed - my expectations thankfully being lower than warrented.

We got out of the bus, and it was cold. We were given a little audio handset to listen to information as we made our way around the stone and off we set through the passageway under the road (which was so close to the stones that it surprised me, yet made Traci Harding's book make a little more sense). My hand, exposed and holding the handset to my equally exposed ear, was freezing. Hair whipped about my face, and my scarf flapped in the icy wind. The sky was grey as the stones, and crows circled and called, boasting about how they could touch the stones and we couldn't.

I am glad my expectations had been so low that I could stand in admiration and wonder - but it is true, had I not been warned, I probably would have been disappointed. The audio infomation handset also helped to add something more to the experience than saying "I've seen them. Now what?" So, I think it was rather well done, considering how little there is to do there besides admire the rocks that are surrounded by so much hype that they could never really live up to their own reputation.

We thawed in the rather disappointing giftshop and had a little lunch in the outdoor eating area (there was no indoor eating area, but my mozerella, tomato and basil panini, and my hot spiced apple juice, sure made it worth the cold).

Then it was back on a bus, which dropped us off at Old Sarum, an ancient ruin at the top of a hill, where the original township was before it moved down to New Sarum, which is now Salisbury (which is pronounced, for those who want to give the funny English pronounciations a try: Sawlsbury or Solsbury - just as Leicester Square is pronounced Lester Square. You'd think coming back into your own language would make place names easier, but no. Not, in fact.).

Now, Old Sarum I had never heard of, but I enjoyed it perhaps better than Stonehenge! I am surprised it is not as well known, but I guess there is less mystery around it. Beautiful pathways around the hill, and huge trenches dug with bits of bone in days long gone. I could have explored those little paths for hours. They enchanted me. We made our way closer to the summit and found the ruins of a cathedral - just the bottom of the walls really, nothing standing very high. They were beautiful. I always expect to be overwhelmed with a sense of history, with the people that have been there before, in such a different situation, when the place was alive, but when I am there sometimes it is hard to feel that sense of wonder. I guess, in some weird way, I half expect to go there and find the people still there, fragments of their personality, of their spirit still there, echoing the lives past as the stones echo the buildings past. I guess I'm always a little disappointed when I don't find them there. (Something that made the Goat House castle at Dun Loughaire a little magical, having our guide being an archer from the 14th century).
We then went up into the castle ruins and wandered around in the cold, posing in photos and joking around in such ways as would probably have apalled the long-ago residents of this place. We then went into the gift shop fro some hot chocolate, and, as when I admired the gauntlets, the chap at the counter offered for me to try them on; "it's been a quiet day". So he passed them to me and I slipped the heavy gloves onto my hands. He then passed me a sword. I posed like a moron while Rach snapped a few photos in which I look quite ridiculous, but happy, and then I snapped some of her wearing the gauntlets holding a celtic sword, looking super scary and cute.
I bought a book there, called Sarum, by ... someone or other (it's in the other room and I am lazy). I have begun reading it and it is really great. I think the writing is good, but to be honest, it is just so staggering in the very ambition of the piece! It is a story of the whole history of Old Sarum, and it starts at the end of the ice age. It's not in many fictional books you read "3500 years later". So far I have been enthralled. I guess in a way it is giving me that sense of previous life at the ruins, which is what, in an odd way, I had been looking for.

We just missed the hourly bus back and had to wait for the next one, and back to Salisbury we went, and then after a little wander, back on the train to London, and back to our little Camden hostel. It was a nice evening, and I finished the book I had been reading (Girl with Green Eyes, by Edna O'Brien - a very "Gemma" book).

The next morning we trundled down tot he post office nice and early to send some of Rach's stuff home. The box came to 2.2ish kilos and would have cost £51, because over 2 kgs it went from being classifed as a "small packet" to being a "parcel". So she took out a book, it went down to £19 to post it, and off it went.

And so did we - after getting our bags and checking out, we were off to Gatwick Airport: tube to Victoria, walk to the Coach Station, and coach to the airport. Rach and I sat there for a little over an hour after the had checked-in, and had a coffee, a cake, and a chat. It is strange how you can be there, chatting away one moment, and then the next everything has changed, and the only difference between then and now is a few flimsy minutes.
It was weird being alone again. I felt capable, but like if something went wrong the consequences would be worse than when there had been 2 of us. I found the bus and got myself back to Victoria Coach Station, and re-found the tube station. I went throught the turnstyles, feeding my ticket through the machines, and wandered down into the depths of Victoria tube station. It smelt like a BBQ. Yum. But then, as I emerged from the coridors and stairs out onto the platform, I could see smoke wafting about. I looked to the people around me to see whether this perturbed them but the crowd just stood there, not leaving, not reacting. I heard some people saying things like "There's smoke!" but then they continued to stand there. I felt uncomfortable. A train came from the direction opposite the way I wanted to go, suggesting it was alright that way, and then, moments later, a train arrived from the other direction - so it seemed it was fine in both directions then, if both trains got through. But I didn't know... I felt uncomfortable with the smoke in the tube station. Looking to those around you may be a half-way good idea, but the fact is that they are all just people with no clue like me. Even the guard wandering around, doing nothing, was just a guy who may be thinking the same as me - the trains had arrived, all must be ok; if there is a problem, someone will know and be taking care of it; if something is really wrong, they'll tell us. So, stupid as it may have been, I used my ticket again, which was meant to be for getting out at the other end of my journey, to leave Victoria station. It would have been fine, I am sure, but I felt uncomfortable with it, and I have learnt to trust my instincts, even if they seem unwarrented, because even if my trip would have been fine, maybe I was meant to leave for some other reason - to learn something or see something. Who knows.

So I bought a map from a machine for £2 and set out from Victoria station to Waterloo train station (where I would have caught the tube to). I passed Westminster Cathedral and took some photos of it all lit up. And buildings of parliament and Big Ben, and I crossed the bridge on which was a man dressed up in a kilt playing the bagpipes. I felt safe and competent, surrounded by camera-happy tourists, as I made my was across central London.

I did wander down one street that made me uncomfortable, Leake Street, which was well lit, but covered in grafitti, and enclosed as it went under the train lines, with a few men in a group (two of whom were in flurescent yellow work vests... did that make them less scary? Not sure), and a couple of other people walked past as well. I was cursing myself for not just risking the smokey tube - surely this was even less safe! But I put on my couldn't-care-less face, and made it through no problem. But I was glad beyond belief when I made it to the station, and got on a train for Staines.

Soon I arrived on the Debbie's doorstep, and I was welcomed into her warm home, with warm hugs from both her and Rob. Rob went out not long after to meet a friend, and Debs and I spent the evening chatting and drinking tea and mulled wine.

Today I woke up at 9 and read some more of my book (Sarum) until the whole house stirred at 11. I had vegemite toast for breakfast (I don't think I have ever enjoyed it so much), and then Debs took me out to Widsor to walk around the gardens and to see the castle. It was lovely, and I am sure I could spend whole days in those grounds. So much to explore.

And here I am, sitting on Debs' computer, taking full advantage of free internet while she sleeps.
We are planning to watch a movie or something this evening, and tomorrow I am going into London proper to meet up with Amy (one of the other Novocastrians at La Rochelle with me) for the day. The it is back here for Sunday night, and it is looking like it's then up to Uncle Bert and Aunty Julie's on Monday. I will stay there for a bit, see some rels, and then over to Herreford to see Kathy and Colin and Tom (I hope - have yet to contact them! After all the spontenaity it is hard to plan in advance again!).

So, that's me up to date. May not get the chance to blog much again before coming home! All depends on the benevolence of whichever relative I am staying with (and their internet connection).

Hope you are all keeping well!
Can't wait to come home and see every one!
And start paying off the credit cards...

Lots of love!
Gem
xox
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1231962060/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1231962060/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1231962060/tpod.html Wed, 14 Jan 2009 16:03:47 -0500 Franglais - on holiday in England; on exchange to France.

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London, England, United Kingdom

And here we are in Camden, London, England, United Kingdom.

Since I last wrote, I have seen and done much indeed!

I was sad to see the back of Dublin. I had loved it so much; the whole atmosphere was lovely and the thought of living there for a time seemed so lovely. I didn't really want to go to Scotland now, as nothing could measure up to Dublin, the city that stole my heart (and my bag).

At the airport, we were flying with Ryan air, and having had no scales with which to weigh my bag, I got the nasty surprise of finding that it had increased since leaving La Rochelle by 2 kilos, so I was now 17kilos, rather than the allowed 15 (the lady sternly told me that it would be 30 euros unless I could get it down to 15). I also had a tiny piece of hand luggauge (after the "loss" of my original bag) along with my hand bag. " You're only allowed one piece of hand luggage," she said, which I didn't mind so much; it was more the "you should know that" that she followed it up with which bothered me. I felt like telling her how many planes I had been on recently and how no one else had cared. But I didn't. I said okay, I'd be back, and took my bags over to a bin.

There I threw out a line I was using for a clothes line, a thurmos, a box of tea bags, a box of vegetable stock cubes, the pair of shoes I had lived in for the past 4 months (I had bought boots in Paris, so now had another pair)... I can't remember what else at the moment, but there were other things, some harder to part with than others (my shoes =( my beautiful shoes). I then arranged it so I could fit my hand bag in my other bag (by throwing out more stuff) and back I went to the check-in desk. I was allowed through this time.
We arrived in Edinburgh at 4:15pm at night - yes, at night - and caught a bus into the city. While it was well and truly dark by the time we arrived in the city, it was breathtaking.... We were in the Old Town part, and staying ini a gorgeous hostel in a 400 year old building or something to that effect. It was dark, and cold, and raining ice (apparently it had showed that afternoon, but we had missed it). We decided to stay in.

The next day we went on a free 3 hour walking tour of Edinburgh and I fell head-over-heels in love. The history behind everything, so rich and deep, the buildings: so grand and inspiring! It became clear now how people could write such amazing stories here (there were a lot of writers from Edinburgh, hence the Writers' Museum that was there) - the whole town was so amazing! So rich with ideas and inspiration!

After the tour, Rach and I went to Edinburgh Castle, which was also staggaringly stunning, sitting utop its ancient volcano.

We decided that one day wouldn't be enough, so booked the hostel for an extra night.

That night we went on a "Ghost Walking Tour" with the same company as the free tour (the very same guide, in fact), which was also brilliant, and we saw different parts of the town. Up on a hill, with all the camra clicking, Rach lost her glove. We tried to use our little wind-up torches to look for it, but in the dark, with the tour group already waiting for us down the hill, we had to give up.

The next morning, the first thing we did was return to that hil to continue the glove hunt. The hill was amazing in the daylight, and, having found Rach's glove, having had to return there had actually been the best thing that could have happened.

We then walked over, and up, Authur's Seat - a great big hill/small mountian. It was... probably my favourite thing so far. I cannot begin to explain how it moved me, or how it has played on my mind since. I have not stopped thinking about it, or being moved by it. I am already planning to come back, if only to go there again. I don't know how to describe it exactly. It just inspired me so much. I could have stayed there fo years. The ruins of a medieval church on the side of the hill didn't hurt... at all. Magnificent!

Then it was souvenir shopping and back home to the hostel we went, ready for Inverness the next morning.

We caught a bus from the bus station all the way up to Inverness, and I managed to feel travelsick pretty swiftly, so closed my eyes and thought about Authur's Seat for a couple of hours, which helped. By the time I was feeling well enough to open my eyes again, we were surrounded by snow-capped mountains, and there was one fleeting view I managed to see of a small body of water, hills close on all sides, with a plane flying low in between. It may sound "that's nice", but let me assure you, it was incredible! It is something that you don't ever really see, only in films. Well, I saw it. Waterfalls lined the road, motionless, frozen to the rock-faces of the mountains between which we wound.

We arrived in Inverness and were met by our Couch-Surfing host, Petr. He walked us back to his place, where he lived with 2 other guys, Duffy and Sherwood (all Czeck). They were all great fun, and Duffy cooked the best dinner for us ever! Some lentil dish, followed by the best veggie soup I have ever tasted. They took us out to their Scottish friend Alastair's that night, where Alistair played his fiddle and Duffy played his guitar - some brilliant Scottish music, followed by some traditional sing-alongs for which Rach & Sherwood provided the main vocals (with Petr, Neil and me providing backing).

The next day, Rach and I went back to the bus station, in an effort to get out to Loch Ness. It was midday, and the next bus wasn't until 1:15pm, so we found a nice pub that served all-day breakfasts and bought ourselves thje most amazing vegetarian breakfast you ever did see! Beaked beans, toast, french toast, potato scone, veggie sausages and vegetarian haggis (well, vegetarian or not, you're in Scotland, you'll eat haggis some way or another).

Then we caught the bus. As the expected time of arrival for our stop was drawing near, Rach asked the driver when the Urquart Castle stop was. "Next stop," he said. So we got out at the next stop, didn't we. What castle? Where? So we toddled up to a service station, in the rain, to ask there.

"Over a mile up the road!" she said. "You'd have to really want to go there to walk it."
But that's exactly what we did.
We walked over a mile in the rain, crossing a bridge under which flowed a river, boardered with ice. The veiws were stunning and the walk was beautiful, but by the time we arrived at the castle, suffice to say, we were a little damp and cold. The guy at the desk laughed with us, and was jolly nice.
Our bus home was about 3:45, so we really didn't have much time! We had a look at the exhibit inside, watched the 8 minute documentary about Urquart Castle (which concluded by the screen rolling up and the curtains opening to reveal the remains of that very Castle whose history we had just learnt - quite striking). Out we went and had the fastest whip around of a castle in history! I let my camera take do the appreciating - I'll appreciate the photos later - not the best way of experiencing things, I'll grant, but better than nothing. It was beautiful. I think Rach felt more connection to that one than I did, but nonetheless, I thoroughly enjoyed having been up there, and overlooking lovely Lock Ness (and yes, we did see the monster. He was sitting on the edge of the lake, smiling his fibreglass smile).

Back to the boys' house where Rach and I did out best to dry our sopping we coats, pants, thermals, socks and shoes (not good when you only have one pair). We stayed at home that night, eating soup, drinking tea and playing extreme games of jenga.

Next morning, it was time to leave. Tried to get that vegetarian breakfast again, but the pub wasn't open at that hour, so we went to a cafe instead. Then caught a bus to the airport at Inverness. It was easyjet that we were flying with this time, so no Ryanair hassles. It was sooooooo windy outside, and walking out to board the plan, I could hardly walk forward! I was leaning right into the wind and forcing my feet to slide along. It was incredible! So I got a little worried about trying to fly in that...

The plane took off and I am sure David would have been highly amused at the faces I was pulling and I clung to the seat of the plane (I would cling to the arms, but they pull up! Very unhelpful!). We really were knocked about! Needless to say, by the time we levelled out I felt too sick to read. But good ole Rach - she gave me chocolate - the antidote to everything unpleasant.

Our landing in London Luton was pretty similar to our take off - it was windy there too. To get inside the terminal was a great feeling - back on land. We stood by the luggage carousel to wait. Rach's bag came out before mine. In fact, everyone's bags came out before mine. Truth is, my bag didn't come out at all.

There was another lady with the same problem, so we went over the the airhostesses, who took us to fill out some paper work...

A bit stunned to have another bag go walking, yet not distraught or distressed like last time, as luggage does go missing on planes and does usually turn up somewhere. Rach and I still stopped for a hot chocolate and to work out plans. I had given the airport my Aunt and Uncle's address in Essex, as that was the only address I had here in England, and I knew I would be going there, and that they wouldn't mind holding on to it for a few days.

So... in the end, Rach's and my plans didn't change. We went to the Marylebone trainstation to see if we could catch a train to Stratford-upon-Avon. We couldn't - we had missed the last thrain for the night - we would have to wait until the morning. So we went to a hostel for the night.

Next morning we left at 6:30 am to catch the 7:30 train. We grabbed a Chai and some breakfast from the station and got on to a very nice train indeed - power points for computers and phones even! Just what my little phone needed. I read and napped.

We arrived at Stratfor-upon-Avon. It was drizzling again. We started to walk - we had to go to a bus stop and catch a bus out to the next town for the nearest hostel, which would cost £20 each per night... With the rain and with Rach having her heavy bag (I didn't have a suitcase to lug, lucky!) we decided to give a bed and breakfast a try for a couple more pounds. We turned up and knocked and Hamlet's Head B&B. Well wasn't that the best decision we ever did make! The woman, Yvonne, was so lovely and so welcoming and so friendly! And the room she gave us was beautiful! With TV and ensuit (not all rooms had ensuit - just ours, I think), and comlimentary teach/coffee buiscuits. Wow.

We put down our stuff, had a cuppa, and headed out to Shakespeare's trust centre. We bough the ticket to see the touwn houses and managed to see 2 that day: Shakespeare's birthplace and Nash's House & New House. There were guides inside, some dressed from the period, who explained to uss all about the history of the house and of Shakespeare.... It was all so interesting, and beautiful! We also went and had a lunch at a sweet little cafe, where we later returned for hot chocolate with Bailey's (wish I could have brought one home to Gran as a souvenir!).

The next day we went to Holy Trinity Church, where Shakespeare, and many of his family members, now rest. It was a beautiful church, and the people there were so lovely and welcoming and friendly and peaceful... pretty much who you would most like to find at a church. It was lovely inside (where Shakespeare etc are) and the cemetery outside was beautiful too. We then went to the final house on our ticket: Hall's Croft. A very beautiful home where Shekespeare's daughter and her husband lived. The garden too was beautiful, and we saw 2 squirrels chasing each other around a tree. How British!

We finished our day by having lunch at Hathaway's tea room (I had brocolli and cauliflower with cheese - yum!!!! - and I actually chose to have the peas with it. What is going on? It's like I am a different person! Asking for peas! Paying for peas! Madness!).

Then it was pretty much straight "Food of Love" tea room (with a couple of bookshops in between), where we had tea/coffee and toasted teacake. Then it was back to the B&B to pick up our bags, and back to London on a train, off at Camden, at too the Hostel we are in now! A nice little place, where we are in a 6 bed dorm with 2 women who live there semi-permanantly and who are lovely.


I have more to tell you, but my internet time is running out, so just to keep you up to date:
Am now back in London, staying in Camden. Have phoned easyjet and they have found my bag, and it was apparently delivered today - will phone Aunt and Uncle tomorrow to check. So, still no suitcase with me, but have a couple of new bits and pieces to see me through. I'm a real traveller now.
Stonehenge and Avebury tomorrow!
Rachel leaving the next day, at which point I will head down to Debs' to stay with her for a bit.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1231182960/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1231182960/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1231182960/tpod.html Mon, 05 Jan 2009 14:54:44 -0500 Franglais - on holiday in England; on exchange to France.

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Dublin, County Dublin, Ireland

Despite a slightly harrowing welcome to city, I have ended up enjoying Dublin no end. Every place has it's highlights, but Dublin has so far been my favourite place (family time in England excepted). Sometimes it's hard to take it seriously - people really do have amazingly Irish accents, to the point where I often have to ask them to repeat themselves. And there really is a lot of green, although not always where you would expect it. I haven't made it out to rolling fields, I'm afriad, but the trains are green, inside and out, and some post boxes, our hostel, our pub, the bookshop... I just wonder whether they're doing it for kicks, for the sheer fun of catering to the cliche. And there are big trucks with giant shamrocks on the side and the words "Shamrock Logistics".

There are great tourist shops, where Rach and I bought Ireland t-shirts (for 3 euros!) and where you can buy leprichaun hats with red fuzzy beards attached. On the 3rd, we also went to Trinity College to see the Book of Kells and the longest single room library in... the world, perhaps? And in the gift shop you could buy "make your own leprichaun" kits. I loved the whole place - how amazing to study there. And I learnt so much about the Book of Kells, and other old books, and how they were made, and the symbolism, and... just wow. Now that is my kind of "museum", if you would call it that.

On the 4th, we went and say Christ-Church Cathedral and then to the medieval and viking museum, which was wonderfully interactive, and ended up being far more amazing than I had expected. Then it was to Dublin Castle where we went on a tour, and then to the Chester Beatty library (not really a library, but a display of the collection of Chester Beatty, who collected 66 thousand amazing items, less than 5% of which are displayed - books, oldest known manuscripts of the Gospels, a huge number of Korans, the oldest known wood cut... Amazing, rare, fabulous things. I was seriously speechless and wanted to cry at the sheer beauty and wonder of it. We took a free tour, and the tour guide was awesome! Lovely lady, and a volunteer, therefore so passionate about it all.

Today it was the bus to Dun Laoghlaire (pronounced "Done Leary"). It was a double-decker and we sat right up the front - I was so sure we were going to rn over a car of into a lightpole - it is so weird not haveing to have space left for a bonnet or anything. I had expected rolling green fields and Gerard Butler, bu tinstead I found a lovely little seaside town. We went to the information office, where the lovely woman gave us a map and drew a line over the roads that would lead us on a lovely walk down to Dalky, which we did. Fabulous walk! And fabulous town - Dalky = my new favourite town (sorry Poitiers, move down). It was amazingly gorgeous, and there was a shop called "Gemma's". Gorgeous bakery, (where we had lunch), gorgeous bookshop (where I bought a book by awesome Irish author Edna O'Brien, whose work I studied last year), and a Castle/fortified town house called "Goat House" - to go in you need to go on a tour (as it is really quite small, and so a tour guide fleshes it out a bit and makes it a it more interesting). The lady at reception took us down the "time corridor", ringing a bell, and then there was stomping heard from the floor above. " The archer will show you around today - he's a bit angry, so you'd better be careful" she said. And down the stairs came a man, a medieval man, wearing medieval cloths, shoes and hat. " Here for the feast are you?" "er...yes, what else?" "OK, well, I'll show you around the castle while you wait - where you from?" "Australia." "Where's that?" "The other side of the world." "That's far away - how did you get here, a boat?" "No, we walked." "Walked? isn't there ocean in between?" "Yeah, there are bridges now. All the way."
And on went the banter, him telling us all about the castle and medieval life, in his medieval voice. Fascinating! Can be hit-and-miss with these actor-led tours, but this one was definately a bulls-eye. He took us up onto the roof and described the medieval surroundings. "Just look at all those field of green, would you? All the way to the sea," he said, gesturing at suburban houses packed tightly either side of narrow streets. There was a tree with christmas lights on it, about which he said, "That tree'll catch fire!" A gaggle of cildren's shouts and laughter rang up from the streets below: "That'll just be my children," he said. "You have a lot!" said Rach. "More than I know. We have a lot of visitors to the castle." "Fun for you," added Rach. "Yes, probably not so fun for them."
He actually was hilarious.
"What language do you speak in your country?" (I hope that question was for his character, and not genuine). "English." "Then you wouldn't know the french word for goat, would you?" "Chevre," I said. HAH! One point for me! " Yes! Well, the man who lives here, his last name is Cheevers, which is from that word, and so his symbol is the goat." (Feels awesome when you just know stuff).
He then left us to go back and explore the castle at our own pace. And we took some amazing photos, and went down to the old ruined church (fell into disuse in 1600s, I think it was), and wandered through the old graveyard. It was... magnificent. So very, very, very beautiful. I can't believe stuff like that just exists!
Then Rach and I went back to our bakery for a coffee and a slice of rhubarb crumble, and then caught a very green train home to Dublin city, and now here we are, at the internet cafe.

It's off to Edinburgh, Scotland, tomorrow, where we will spend two nights, and then up to coooold Inverness, where we will again spend two nights before heading south the the Mother-land.

Take care!
Until next I write - adieu!

Gem
xox
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1230979800/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1230979800/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1230979800/tpod.html Sat, 03 Jan 2009 06:03:31 -0500 Franglais - on holiday in England; on exchange to France.

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Dublin, County Dublin, Ireland

I have left La Rochelle; I have left France. I am now, once again, in the U.K., which I love.

Rach and I have had a wonderful time in Belfast. We had a great couple of days in Paris too, and I wrote it all down in a word document on my computer to upload onto my blog as soon as I had sopme internet, but it's looking like you will all be deprived of those entries...

As we were checking in to the hostel here, my hand luggage was stolen, including my computer (with photos and blog entries), video camera (with footage of my time in France), a teddy bear David gave me, all the make up my sister had brought for me for the trip, Gragon (my little pink Dragon who featured in so many of my photos), 3 books, my written travel journal, my personal diary, some stuff I bought in Belfast, some souvenirs I had bought for people.

It's a shame, but more than anything, a hassle.

I put the bags down right near me in the hostel room, with the people who worked there all around, and other people sitting around chatting... Nothing could happen to it. I had put it in the luggage area underneath the bus when I came from Belfast to Dublin, and it could so easily have been taken then. I could so easily have been taken so many times. This was one moment where I didn't even feel that there was risk, I didn't feel like it was dangerous and that I was being trusting, or just had to risk it. It was right there. We could see it.

And then, finished booking in, went to pick it up and it was gone.
It took a moment to register. I knew it was gone, but I couldn't understand - maybe it had just turned momentarily invisible? Maybe I was so used to seeing it that my eyes just weren't bothering to notive it anymore. But the girl behind the desk ran out side and was asking anyone if they had seen someone with this sort of bag.

They hadn't. Rach and I ran around for a bit, went back to the bus station, where a chap had told us a lot of people take things down into the toilets to look through. Nothing. We came back. The girl figured out how to rewind the CCTV and 3 staff members watched it. It's all there. His face is clear as day. I haven't seen it, and I don't think I would want to.

So, they called in the police and he watched it. Asked me some questions, took some notes. Really nice chap, actually. He went off to poke around and see if he could find anything. The CCTv footage, however, can't be circulated until after the week-end.

At least it happened in an English speaking country, and now I have less to carry around, and I had taken my passport out of that bag and put it in my hand bag because we crossed the boarder between Nrthn Ireland and the Republic of Ireland on the bus and had to be checked.

So I am very lucky.

Would love to keep typing, but my hour is nearly up and I don't want to pay another euro!
Lots of love!
Later!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1229356020/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1229356020/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/french_rhubarb/1/1229356020/tpod.html Tue, 16 Dec 2008 03:48:31 -0500 Franglais - on holiday in England; on exchange to France.

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La Rochelle, France

All my exams are over.

Had the final exam today - speaking test.
Wasn't amazing. At all. But it's over.
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