Visiting historic site with an architect.

My dad's an architect. I've got him and my sister here in town (today's their last day) and when in Durham, you got to go see the World Heritage site that is Durham Cathedral.

We took the "scenic route" up the river hill, really, for the reason that if done right, the first view of the Cathedral is jaw dropping. I had the two of them stop at the alley corner to shut their eyes and then I guided them around and from under the overhanging trees so that the first thing they saw of the Cathedral was the whole of the building in all its enormity.

My sister said,

"I wasn't necessarily breath-taken, but I was astounded...but that's because my words are very rarely taken from me...because I'm a talker. And then you told me The Venerable Bede was entombed there and of course I flipped a nut."

Dad's jaw did drop, which was the reaction I wanted from him. He studied Durham as an undergrad and for him to get to see it in person for the first time was, for me, very touching. We had poignancy; it was a real moment there for me. But then he started doing this...

He took pictures of the drains. 

Who does that? My dad, that's who.

So that was the first full day...walking around the Cathedral and walking around Durham City centre. There was lunch, too. Lots of real bonding for Kiddo and her Poppa.

No really...

She wanted to be chased. Honest.

And today, on the last full day with them here, we took them to what I've been told is the best fish & chips restaurant in the region...Trencher's in Whitby.

Seafood Surprise! There was caviar! That goop on the left was crab meat... um, yum? Yes.

Um, I'm not going to bother showing you the fish and chips because you can go to your local Long John Silver's and see what it is for yourself. Also, no pictures were taken of said fish & chips. And yes, it is the best fish & chips in the region. So go there when you're in town next.

Took a bus tour and really enjoyed the commentary! Saw all this crap!

Do you see my awesome photobomb? Totally not inadvertent; I meant to do that. Just like my dad meant to derp.

And...EVERYONE got to touch the North Sea...or Bay of Whitby.

I think touching every ocean is on my dad's bucket list.

Whitby. And this is a cool picture too, because you can see the evident Human-Environment Interaction.

Whitby Abbey. The one and the same that inspired Dracula.

And because I can't ever resist teasing my dad...here he is coming out of the bus station's pay toilet after using it. Just want you to be sure that you know that.

My sister says I am turning into "British-ese if you please."  What butchering of Lady and the Tramp! She says I'm speaking like they do here. Like, "quite nice" and "brilliant" and "hiya" and that's it. And so, then...am I really 'going native' if it is just those three? 

Well, when in Rome. And Rome was burning this last week.

And I would walk 500 miles...

... or rather, more like 300+, just to be the mom who gives her kid a hell of a time at a favorite cartoon character's theme park. And I'd take the train instead.

Mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I said "tickets for us all to go to Peppa Pig World!" I was not disappointed. We like Peppa Pig in this house, even if throngs of little girls are threatening. Just ask Allie Brosh.

Peppa Pig World, located in Paulton's Park, is a great place to take little kids to ride rides and look at stuff, like meerkats and penguins.

Long train rides wouldn't be complete without Baby Sweetie Belle.

Representing west side or east side? I never knew which pants leg went with which direction.

 While waiting in the Balloon Ride queue (line for you Amurrcans), I couldn't help but notice some differences between British queuers and American line-uppers at a pricey theme park.

1. British families are quieter. 
2. British families are fitter.
3. British mummies bring healthy food in large cooler bags for their children to eat while waiting in the queue.
4. British daddies don't spaz out on their small children when their small children refuse to eat fruit and dump it all out in the middle of the walkway. 
5. British people help aforementioned daddy clean up the spilled fruit.

And then I got to see some differences between British social classes as a result... Later in the week, after the trip to Paulton's Park & PPW, I took Natalie to the park (two minute walk now!). There was a family there sitting at one of the picnic tables. Every so often, the fatter of the three ladies would shriek at the top of her lungs some name at random and whatever offending child that name belonged to would cease what they were doing only long enough for the lady to turn back to her family? friends? and her tab. Tab, in the northeast of England is a cigarette.

Eventually they left. They also left several empty crisps packets and drinks bottles. So, here's what I deduced from this, after (surreptitiously of course) watching them for several minutes:

1. Northern British families found in a local neighborhood park are not like the British families found in a Southern theme park.
2. Not all British families are fit. Which I knew anyway, but I'd like to reiterate this.
3. Northern British families of a certain class that can be found in a local neighborhood park don't particularly care to clean up after themselves. 
1. Understandable, since there aren't any trash cans in the vicinity and really, who wants to take their trash home? Seems like there's plenty there already.
4. Northern British daddies of a certain type do not interact directly with their progeny.
5. Northern British mummies of a certain type prefer tracksuit bottoms and hoodies for comfort wear.

Alright. Enough of that depressing shit. Back to the greatness that is Peppa Pig World!

I think there's a picture somewhere of me doing this exact thing while waiting in line for a ride at Disney Land. All kids do this. See that other kid? The one paying homage to Shark Week? Yep. Oh, here's another homage to Shark Week...


Unoriginal Source

Here we are on Peppa Pig's Balloon Ride with the ubiquitous sunglasses. I must always have my sunglasses. My Precious.

First ride on her very own! So proud that it was on George's Dinosaur Adventure.

To solo ride rides at Peppa Pig World, one must be 900 millimetres tall. Yes. That's how it was phrased on each height required panel at the entrance to every ride. 900 millimetres. This is 90 centimeters or three footlong subs from Subway (or City Bites, if that's what floats your boat. I worked there, so it don't for me).

I don't know why "900 millimetres" ticks me off. Could be that the "900" is too big a number to process or that it all seemed a bit pretentious? How the hell was I supposed to know that I needed to know my kid's height in "millimetres"? But is okay. They let her ride the ride by herself. And then because of how it was arranged, I had to ride the ride too. All by myself.

My mom was so proud.

The lovely animatronics. I had no idea that they were animatronics  because they didn't move nor did their mouths all that much. A little.  But then they did. Jerkily and in time with the audio playing. I thought it well done that it was in time with the audio.

Viking Boat swing. The best ride ever!

All tuckered out.

Going home.

One last thing... never saw a Park Worker cleaning up after patrons. Everyone cleaned up after themselves. I wish I could bottle that up and export it as supplementary vitamins. 

Good time and yes, I'd like to go back again because there's more to that park than just Peppa Pig World, like 75% more. 

Oh, and I haven't forgotten about the butcher interview. It's coming. It'll suck, most likely but that's because you didn't leave a question for me to ask him. So you won't get to have your deepest curiosity satiated. OR you could leave a question now and have it be your last ditch effort, I won't mind. 

Day 19 or How I Learned the Socratic Method from a Gorilla

On the way home from Kiddo's school, we stopped in at Durham Cathedral. The boys' choir was practicing... I believe that the official name is Choristers.  The boys were wearing long purple robes and were led by what I imagine is a priest.

It was beautiful and I now totally get the whole obsession with building cathedrals. ACOUSTICS. I'd build one if I had the money and 1000 years. Really. Durham Cathedral has been around since 1093. Really. They told me.

And then we saw a guy in a long black robe start pulling on two chords that went all the way up the tower. Yes, yes he was tolling the bells. And the walls of the Cathedral are so dang thick that you can just barely make out the peals; just so you know, you can hear them quite clearly from the inside of my house, four miles away.

We talked to him a bit, found out he's a burgess. He then, very nicely and generously we thought, let Natalie pull on a chord. Yup...Kiddo got to toll the bells of Durham Cathedral on this day in history. Poor thing couldn't hear it.

Wanna know why there ain't no picture of this melodic, harmonic event?  Because they don't allow cameras in this dagnabbited cathedral.

So I'll include the ones I snuck from our home-finding trip here last year

See the Gothic arches with the roundels in the upper middle? That's where the Choristers were singing today. This picture was taken 4/21/10. Aren't the columns gorgeous? MOORISH INFLUENCE IN CATHOLIC CENTRE! DEETS AT 10!

The bell tower as seen from the cloisters' walkway

But at least now we know for whom the bell tolls without having to ask.



Day 19- A book that changed your mind about a particular subject

source

I was assigned this as a textbook in one of my required upper level major courses... I'm so effin glad I enrolled in that class. I think it influenced how I interacted with students... it, at the very least, induced a minor bias that was included thematically in most, if not all of my lessons.

It also, even though it is fiction, helped me realize that much of the systems created by humanity are unsustainable. It's economics and anthropology combined in an approachable medium. 

It's another book I like to give as a gift...but with this one, if the givee doesn't agree with the precepts posited by the author...then that's fine with me. I just want to have a discussion about the hypothesis that human supremacy is a myth and that modern civilization (starting around 10,000 years ago) enacts that myth. 

There's also others in this "series", if you like. My Ishmael and The Story of B. My Ishmael takes place at the same time as Ishmael, but the student in the book is a 12 year old girl... PERFECT FOR YOUR PRE-TEENS! The Story of B is a prequel to Ishmael.

Have you come across any of them in your book browsings?

Bon Anniversaire!

It's been one full year since we arrived here. And it is frickin cold. I have no words of wisdom to pass on to future Mollie. And I could slap past Mollie in the face for overtrying to be Sunshine & Lollipops...but will also give her credit for trying. Went out last night and had a pint in remembrance.

Actually... I hadn't remembered until my friend was talking about luggage problems from their move to Oz.

Would you like to know more?
May 27, 2010 http://mollieisokinuk.blogspot.com/2010/05/up-to-speed-part-i.html

Anyway. It's all kittens and fluff, because I wanted people back home to not worry... but some of our luggage was lost...this would be the luggage that had some household items that make life comfortable... like sheets. And the shipped boxes didn't arrive until several days later. And we couldn't figure out the boiler. So we were sleeping in a cold house with towels for blankets...because, you know, we went out and bought some. Because, you know, we were stinky. 22 hours on planes will do that to you.

I think I owe it to myself to write a more realistic version of events.

Day 15- Favorite book dealing with foreign culture


Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

Mainly, the biggest reason for this choice is because the copy I have now is the one Mom gave me right before we left last year. It was the only book I had when we got here.

(psst!)

(what?)

(you forgot about Sarum!)

(oh yeah... that's a good book too, but not the appropriate choice.)

(bitch, don't front with me. I'm just keeping you honest!)

(better you than someone else, jackass.)

(you wanna fight? c'mere you poser)

Really, I had no idea myself is so confrontational with myself. Okay, okay. So I had Sarum, by Edward Rutherfurd but that doesn't really "deal" with foreign culture. So, it was technically the second book I had. And she's very positive in that book so I imagine that that positivity rubbed off since I was in a foreign country too. I just had no idea how foreign.

Day 16- Favorite book turned movie

Eh, they're all pretty good. 101 Dalmatians is pretty close to the novel. I've really been enjoying Game of Thrones (technically not a movie) because it's staying pretty true to the book. Pride and Prejudice is great also... all three versions are nice. IMDB says that Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is in development. That should be fun... if only they keep the time period to early 19th century and not mid-late 19th century as is evidenced by the illustrations.

But I'll go with Much Ado About Nothing.

The Cattling- Royal Wedding part 2

Go here to read part 1.

Arriving into London, I was finally able to admit to myself that I was just no good at reading the graffiti tags on the concrete walls of King's Cross. I felt bad for Carlos. He obviously made an effort. Ruth agreed, saying that trying to read them ends up setting off a collectible migraine in her head.

The heat in the Underground was wholly unexpected. As was the huge pram. They really do exist still.

Entering the Underground warren, we heard on the PA system that the Westminster stop was closed. Victoria was going to have to be our best bet. 

At the top of the exiting stairs of the Victoria stop on the Underground, Ruth bought two flags, one for each of us, for £1.50, and I quote "from a helpful Cockney. They do exist!" No Cockney rhyming slang from him (dammit) as he gave her directions for the best route to Buckingham.

We walked from Victoria to Buckingham. In the back of my mind, I was simmering on the idea of kettling. I didn't want to get caught in an area where I wouldn't have freedom of movement if I chose to have it. 

Mainly, this part of the morning consisted of waiting and jockeying for and advantageous position.

What happened instead was "cattling". Like cattle, savvy? We were stuck in an area along Birdcage Walk. There was a lady, accompanied by a younger man, who was freaking out and shrieking at the top of her lungs. She was upset because a policeman told her that she couldn't cross there but she could cross the street at the other opening (where I was, along with 4,000 other people) but was unable to do so because the policeman at the second, other opening wasn't letting anyone cross. 

"I have to get across. I have to get across! I can't stay here! I don't have to wait!"

I eventually had enough of her piercing babbling striking my eardrum. I mean, she was RIGHT NEXT TO ME! "Lady, they ain't lettin' anyone of us cross, you hear?"

Yeah, when I'm irritated, the redneck SE Okie comes out. Thank you Pontotoc County.

Crazy lady calmed down and I saved the day and my ears.

And then the band and Irish Guard began their deal.

And then the cars...

After the dignitaries left Buckingham Palace and the hotel down the street, we decided to walk to Hyde Park. More cattling...

As we were leaving Birdcage, a couple of camera girls with a real TV camera (!) asked us if we saw Kate in person... I was not quick enough to remember my minimal improv training...the first rule of which is "ALWAYS SAY YES!" 

"I saw the car go by..." hopeful wistfullness evident

Their eyes had already swept beyond me to new potential interviewees, "Okay, thanks anyway!" 

DAMMMIT!  I coulda been a contendah...

Walking to Hyde Park was like herding stock into a slaughter house. I even had to negotiate a deadly chain with spikes a la mace.

See? Evidence right there in the road just how similar we were to stock.

But they made us go the long long long way around. Couldn't go back the way we walked in. Ended back up at Victoria station. There was a Sainsbury's right there, so we got lunch. I had a Turkey, Bacon, and Gruyere sammich and some Baked Cheese and Onion chips... the real chips, not fries.

During the course of the day, I tried to photobomb as many pictures as I could.

Probably my most favorite picture of the day. The juxtaposition of the tourist along with the  front page pictures of the happy couple...while the background has all the alcohol. Pretty much sums up the day.

And then I was introduced to Pimms No. 1 Cup...

Not the best picture, really.

It looked like tea but it tasted of royal tiger blood awesomeness. Based on gin, it has English style lemonade or Sprite if you want to get similar and chopped fruit and mint... Ours had strawberries, lemon, and oranges. This is my new favorite. I was pleased, Ruth was pleased, the people outside the restaurant who were selling it were pleased; we were their first takers! Poor things, bless them...

The park event attendants were yelling at us passers-by to keep to the path  because the grass...and other stuff. Eventually, you just gotta ignore the petty and nut up. I walked on the grass. They said nothing to me.

Sure was pretty though.

Big screens!

Yeah, at this point my phone battery died so, no more pictures until I got back on the train where you can access outlets. That's right, I was organized. I brought the phone charger. Well done me.

We watched the ceremony and the leaving from Westminster Abbey on the big screens. Then sat and played cards while waiting for the balcony kiss. Ruth tried to teach me 'Patience', I taught her how to play 'HoDog'. 

Not many people dressed up like we did... we had a lot of glances and random people taking our picture. This one lady, either she was French or Turkish I don't know, but she walked up to us...

"I make photo with you?"

"Uh, whut?"

"I to take a photo with you?" 

"Um...", glanced at Ruth, who shrugged. "Sure! Why not?" Really, why not? We were waving the flags wildly and wearing tiaras and the Kate masks at that point. 

We were very close to a TV camera crew who were interviewing a couple who had just got engaged, then and there. I did my best to photobomb. Did I do okay?

Balcony kiss time! And I missed it. GOTTVERDAMT! I'd been sneezing all the darn day and sneezed at the very moment they smooched. Luckily, they kissed the second time which I didn't miss. Huzzah.

With the excitement over, we made our way to Harrod's. I bought treats for the punkins at home and fended off a crazy saleslady who wanted me to buy a single serving of caviar for £26. What a letdown. I thought I was getting a taste test.

...to be continued

      ...because you definitely might want to see the aftermath of my day in London. I got punchy with Kate on the train...