chouchoot: (Default)

this is what seeing-a-first-snowfall looks like.
granted it only lasted like 10 minutes, and i've technically seen snow on the ground (twice), watching the little flakes dance about and not behave like rain was pretty much the best little moment ever. being in london sort of helped.

thanks to [livejournal.com profile] coffeefortwo (also pictured) for getting this to me.
chouchoot: (Default)
our return to the UK was late, late on monday; we had high hopes that we'd be up for something but, truth was, once we got settled into our (regretfully) below-average b&b, it was a little too late for anything. james and i went for a walk around the block--we were staying minutes from the earl's court tube station--and found many-a pub at last call, and not a whole lot else other than chains.

day 14 thusly began the next morning, all of us well rested and ready for our "last day" of vacation. truth be told, i could've gone home on day 12: i've learned that 2-weeks of vacation goes into "excessive" territory. lesson learned/no regrets.

our first order of business was to get out to the thames near blackfriar's. from there we walked to the globe, which was too pricey (and not even the real globe, anyway) to go inside. next stop: tate modern, the most fantabulous art museum i've been to, probably ever. we began our art-appreciation by sailing down giant slides (all 3!), then we split up to get the most of our tate experience. i absolutely loved the gallery, and got a lot out of a great deal of the art (specifically on the 3rd & 5th floors). after our art viewing, we were all starving, so we headed to [livejournal.com profile] coffeefortwo & co's favorite pub for our last authentic british food experience (fish n' chips became my favorite staple), and some really cheap beer.

after lunch we decided to head over to camden town. the weather turned progressively colder as the hours past. as we lost the boys to the lure of record stores, andrea and i decided to explore camden a little on our own. so it was, under dark skies that it started snowing! real-life-snow! it started out wet--a mix of rain and sleet--then full-fledged snow. i couldn't believe it! not a bad way for a girl to see her first snow, i'd say. it lasted no more than 10 minutes, during which time i was the only fool standing in it, taking pictures of it, and smiling ear-to-ear. but what did you expect me to do?

after exhausting camden market for a while longer, we headed back to the kensington area, where we said farewell to england properly with a good old fashioned pub crawl. our first stop was at the windsor castle, a peculiar little place with a little hobbit-height door and the best toffee pudding. we stayed for a couple rounds, and i even found a beer i liked! (not counting the ciders, which i also really liked.) from here we hit a couple more pubs near our hotel, where (after a few hours) concluded our crawl, because while they legally can serve all night, english pubs choose not to and close at the disappointingly early hour of 11 or midnight.

the next morning was rough--early wake-up and check-out, transportation woes and stress as we headed to gatwick, and the typical anxiety and stress that ensues (for me) when airports and security are involved. we cleared it all in enough time, and began our 10 hour flight back home. i watched history boys (excellent) and stranger than fiction (decent), slept, finished my book, drank as much wine as they'd give me, talked, and ate to pass the time.

arriving back in florida was actually somewhat refreshing. it was nice to be home, to be able to kiss the doggies, see my sister. it was also nice to know we didn't have to carry luggage to/from any mode of transport for a long, long while. that and cook. those are the two things i won't miss.

but i'll miss so much else--the cold, the chime-song of the approaching metro, the accents, the double-deckers, the hot boys, the amazing food, the adorable european children, the music, the english breakfast teas, the underground, the smell of the air, the look of old buildings, the sense of history and culture on every facet and around every corner. i don't know when i'll get to travel abroad again but, oh, i hope it's sooner than later. london and paris, in my way, i love you and miss you already.
chouchoot: (stars upon thars)
day 13 was our last day in paris. we got a late-start in sight-seeing, and so it was when the apartment's cleaning lady came around 11am, she found me playing docteur maboul (the french version of operation) on the futon. she spoke no english at all, and i stumbled through explaining why we were still in the apartment (we had arranged to stay until that evening); she finally got a hold of the landlady and all was revealed and ok. somehow, [livejournal.com profile] coffeefortwo completely missed his chance at seeing a real life french maid, and i've been teasing him with hyperbolic description ever since.

finally out and about, we had just a few benchmarks to see before departing...the first being to see the eiffel tower during the day. monday was cold--easily the coldest day of our trip--and the wind was pretty biting. we arrived at the champs de mars side, approaching the tower from the "garden" side rather than street-side like james and i had a few days prior. it was a tad cloudy and overcast, but for the briefest moment, the sun came out and reflected on the tower, shimmering in shades of gold. no one had a chance to capture this vision on film, regretfully, but after no more than fifteen minutes the dark clouds lightened and revealed gorgeous blue skies. these same clouds also released a handful of snow flurries--barely visible, infrequent, and meager--which i wanted to count as "snow" but had a hard time really doing so.

so, we left the area and walked river-side towards le grand palais, finally ending up on champs elysees, which was (disappointingly) not worthwhile (too many chains and not enough character). we saw the arc de triomphe, and that was nice; afterwards, we finally headed back home to round up our luggage and make our way to paris nord for our journey back to london via eurostar, during which i slept the entire time.

i felt very satisfied in all that we were able to see and accomplish in the most beautiful city in the world, but still longed for more days actually spent in paris (total count: 5). even though i didn't stand on point zéro, i fully intend on, one day, returning there.
chouchoot: (tragedy)
day 12 (sunday): action-packed-paris-day! we began the day stuffing ourselves at a patisserie, where i found a dessert/breakfast tailor-made for my palette; james, dan and andrea all gave various sweets and eclairs a go, and it seemed like we all did a great job at satisfying our taste-buds.

our first stop for the day was a visit to the catacombs, a labyrinthine exploration of paris underground, complete with more bones and skulls than i could ever imagine in one place. it was crazy--just when i thought we were done already, we'd hit another long hallway filled on both sides with bones that had been arranged in aesthetically-pleasing-patterns. it was absolutely incredible--i think somewhere on one of the introduction signs they quoted a million bodies were laid to rest there. the stairs ascending almost killed us, but we survived.

after the catacombs, we headed to what was essentially the polar opposite of what we had just experienced: the paris opera house. like everything on this trip (the bridge near parliament, the house of mirrors in versailles), the building was under construction, and thusly only photographable with a creative-eye. we entered the palais garnier and were immediately swept away by its decadent beauty. unlike versailles, which housed (and thusly suited) royalty, the opera house (to me) expressed beauty, art, and music for art's sake: no aspect of it was functional without embellishment. we had hoped to attend a performance during our stay in paris, but only the ugly opera house, or opera bastille, was showing anything while we were there. we were able to explore the garnier opera house pretty freely, including watching a set construction and lighting test for their next big performance. and of course, in addition to the obvious historical significance of the structure, it was nice to see the "home" and inspiration for the phantom of the opera.

our final stop for sunday was to end up in montmartre. thanks to [livejournal.com profile] manningkrull and his (many) helpful directions and pointers, we were able to find it effortlessly. we arrived early afternoon--the sky was vividly blue and cloud-covered, and we walked towards the paramount point of sacré coeur. the view from the basilica was breathtaking and panoramic. we ended up going inside, which was during a mass, so we sat down briefly to listen to the music resonate through the church and raise to the dome. it was beautiful. upon exiting the church, we noticed that the stairs were almost completely filled with americans, behaving badly and speaking loudly. we took brassai's stairs back down to explore a little more, walking many of the streets, shopping, eating, and finally ending up at the red light district of paris, which was really un-shocking and not seedy at all. from here, andrea and i split a cotton candy, which tasted different than it does in the states, walked by the moulin rouge (which is a disney-shadow of what it once was, and honestly was pretty unimpressive), and finally ended up in the museum of eroticism, a multi-level gallery of erotic art and ancient works of art or religious/ceremonial significance.
chouchoot: (reddreads)
once [livejournal.com profile] coffeefortwo & co had safely landed at our little apartment, we headed out to explore a bit of paris after dark. we walked by notre dame, then stopped in at a great little traditional french restaurant, and had a little wine. afterwards we walked further, exploring the louvre (outside-only), and a series of winding roads through shops and cafes nearby. i was impressed by all the nightlife and welcoming places, and while we really liked this particular area surrounding a beautiful church called eglise saint-eustache, it was elusively impossible to find ever again. our walk back towards our apartment brought us by the pompidou centre, which i was surprised is actually uglier and less appealing than i thought it would be given my "appreciation for modern art." seriously, even understanding the form & function, i still thought it was a hideous piece of architecture.

day 11 (saturday): after a home-made breakfast in our cute little paris apartment by the seine, james and i left via train and headed towards versailles to explore the palace. it took us a while to get tickets (very long lines--but we expected that seeing as it was saturday), but once inside we were not really queued up for any particular room or area. the rooms were gloriously decadent, covered on every inch with ornate and rococo beauty. we had weighed the options between versailles and the louvre and versailles won, mostly given the scenery (gardens and city) of the surrounding area, and the experience of art + architecture. i have to say, i think we made a good choice: versailles was mind-blowingly gorgeous. we explored the inside of the palace for a couple hours, then had a small picnic snack lunch outside in the garden area. it was there james had the funny idea that he wanted to rent a canoe, and so we did--awkwardly rowing (james) and taking pictures (me) of all the natural-beauty and passer-bys. on the return from versailles on the RER, these two frenchmen with accordions began playing on the train! they seriously got on at one stop, and worked their way through all the train cars after a fast song or two. it was surreal and awesome.

we returned back from versailles that evening, where we met back up with the other half of our traveling quartet, and headed out for dinner and wine. by now, all the dinners and wines have somehow blended together, though suffice it to say each night the food was incredible and the wine was tasty. this night, however, was the night i tried escargot, which was like land-seafood in texture and earthy in taste; i actually quite enjoyed it. after dinner we got more wine at a very (locals-only) authentic french cafe, where we had our isolated-event of poor service/language barrier/tension: a fast-speaking waiter had no patience for my delay in recognizing his grocery-list of wines. he begrudgingly brought the house-wine i ordered to our table with a clank. truth be told, i understood his frustration. i was actually relieved that, most times, interacting with the locals wasn't traumatizing (many people speak english, or understand my french, or seem good-natured about the varying degrees of both); i got braver and more comfortable after every transaction, and used "tu parle anglais" only seldomly when i was unable to really communicate.

french observations, part deux:
-the food! the food! seriously i ate like a god.
-james thinks they were "planted" for authenticity, but not a day went by that we weren't passed by a french cliche: the pedestrians with arms full of baguettes, the gangs of motorcyclers, the hunch-backed little old ladies, the frequent and shameless PDA.
-je comprends beaucoup au francais.
-the streets of paris might be cleaner than london, but the subway is filthier.
-[livejournal.com profile] coffeefortwo does a mean french-accent.
chouchoot: (Default)
incase i don't have time to catch-up/update for a little while, i just have to say:
i saw my first snow-fall (of my entire life!) in europe!
i seriously was, like, the happiest girl ever.
[livejournal.com profile] coffeefortwo has the picture to prove it.
chouchoot: (antony)
day 9 was a gift. we woke up early and headed to the waterloo station to embark on our journey to france via eurostar. the train ride was smooth and easy--we saw a little of dover on our way to the chunnel, and the loads of french countryside and farms once across. arriving at paris nord, i was distracted by how beautiful the station was; once near the exit i took the opportunity to order "deux carnets, s'il vous plait" and realized that speaking in french was going to take some getting used to.

from the station we took the metro to bastille, and then did a bit of walking towards the apartment we'd secured for our stay. thankfully, no one had reserved marais by the seine for the day prior to our reservation, and so i was seamlessly able to arrive early. we met with the landlord lady, who was very nice, saw the apartment, and by 3pm were settled down in paris.

of course, the first thing i wanted to do was go exploring. just in our little walk to the apartment, we already acknowledged that paris was infinitely more beautiful than london; the more we walked the more this fact was true. we began by walking to the seine, and taking it down a short distance to notre dame. the gothic church was so colossal and so intricate, i couldn't believe how commanding it was to look on. from there we walked around the little shops and cafes, and headed back to the seine to keep us grounded (it was a "new city" to us, after all). we decided to keep walking, and walking, our destination (unrealistically) was le tour effiel: go figure that its appearance was mirage-like and unattainable, like a carrot on a stick just out of our reach. finally, though, we made it there, and the view was worth the trek. we actually got to see the lights come on, which was great. we got crepes from a nearby (touristy) stop which i regretted a little, only out of how generic it was, but it tasted pretty good regardless. afterwards we struggled with the public transportation, initially a little leary of the RER vs. metro stops, but eventually realizing either would get us where we needed to be. we arrived back at the apartment-area, stopped into a monoprix for some very basic grocery items, then went back out for some dinner.

day 10 was a friday, the day we should've arrived in paris (but not until far later that evening). we woke up and had cheese and strawberries on a baguette, then headed out to see pere-lachaise, arguably the most famous cemetery in the world. we found it very easily, and began mazing around the gravestones...realizing there was no way we were going to "stumble" on the noteworthy grave sites. finally after our ascent to the top of the cemetery, we found a sign with a directory of the dead of sorts; we made mental note of where to go and then made our way back to the graves of oscar wilde (covered in kisses! i kissed it, too) and jim morrison (missing the bust and surrounded by barricades now), both of which were my main desires in visiting pere-lachaise in the first place. still, the cemetery was completely awesome--reminded me a lot of new orleans--and many of the sites were hauntingly dramatic and beautiful. we spotted some interesting grave iconography, including an hourglass-with-wings and then skulls-with-wings at the ear. after a couple hours we headed out of pere-lachaise, back towards home, where we had our first official paris cafe experience; i ordered and interacted completely in french (it becoming a little easier and more natural each time), and james and i had delicious croque monsieurs that were perfection. after our bite to eat we headed back to the apartment to wait for [livejournal.com profile] coffeefortwo & co, our trip travel companions with whom we had planned to spend the last-end of our travels with.

paris observations:
-lots and lots of dogs.
-lots of dogs i've never seen before in the states...even breeds like boston terriers and boxers have something different-looking about them.
-there are a ton of english-speakers here, but i still have been wanting to speak in as much french as possible.
-the roads are the same way as the states, which took me by surprise.
-the women wear boots here in ways i wish to emulate.
-french children are absolutely adorable. i'm experiencing my first-ever occurrence of a maternal urge, and it is only after watching preciously bundled little paris-bebes exclaim "ma ma!" or the simplest of french sentences.
chouchoot: (Default)
day 8 began a bit in my last entry, but to give it proper distinction i really had to write about it in it's own little space.

so, day-from-hell, check. london arrival, hotel check-in, amazing breakfast, check. afterwards, james and i immediately began our pursuit of my passport. we took the tube to trafalgar square, where [livejournal.com profile] beezlebryan had off-handedly mentioned to us was "where all the nation's embassies are located." upon arrival, and some walking around, we noticed the united states embassy was nowhere to be found--upon further perusal in my little book, i found the address scribbled in, citing a completely different street name and location. we decided to walk it, even though it was a bit far (off oxford and up up up). we weren't sure it was the right place or building until we saw the gawdy gold eagle perched atop a big building typical to the london skyline. as we walked closer, other details started to unveil themselves: the barricades, the machine-gun-toting-cops, the long long queues, the overall sense of heightened security. i have to admit, it freaked me out.

i waited in line and was separated from the long group (70% of all people there) who were waiting in the VISAS/immigration line; i was one of the rest there for passport/other purposes. standing at the american embassy in london, i felt pretty ignorant and simultaneously priveledged--i wasn't even sure why all these people were in line or what they wanted, and yet cognitively recognized that it most likely was to work on (temporary or permanent) residency/visa/greencard issues for the united states...people who wanted to live/work/visit a country i, some days, am not all that enthusiastic about. talk about an eye opening and humbling experience: it's no babel but it'll do for me in terms of a little world wake-up call.

i made my way through security, and waited in another line for passport-issues. i wasn't sure if i was even doing the right thing, as the embassy website implied that appointments must be made (i made one for 3/20 just to be safe) and that passports take at least 15 days to process. still, the vague website wording gave me hope i could, at least possibly, get a temporary emergency passport to make good on the rest of my travel bookings, so i waited. and waited. at the first window i spoke to an incredibly helpful british woman, who gave me paperwork and implied, so long as i confirmed i was traveling "today or tomorrow" (i wanted/intended to) that it'd be no problem. i sat down, filled out paperwork, got back in line with the passport photos i took at victoria station and my application. the passport photos were for british passports (who knew?), so she sent me back outside to take u.s. pictures; i did so, then waited in another 2 lines, only to find out that the crown of my head was cropped off, so the photos wouldn't do, so i was sent outside through the war zone and 2 blocks away to a pharmacy to take (count 'em) a third set of passport photos (running total 16 GBP). i returned again, dealt with armed policeman and security and lines again, only to be bounced around from window-to-window, where i broke down again (was snapped at by a unnecessarily rude embassy employee, who had that sort of perfected demeaning curtness in her reply that, at this point, i really couldn't handle). finally--4 hours or so after my arrival--it was all sorted out, i raised my hand under oath, paid my fees, and was issued a temporary (1 year) passport on the spot. i was warned about my lost/stolen passport status, and how one is only allowed maybe 2 in a lifetime, so i was "awfully young" to have already had one lost. i also was told by this same u.s. embassy employee to never, ever travel with your passport on your person, except from destination to destination: he said it is never necessary (at least in the u.k/europe) to have a passport on you when you're sightseeing or shopping, and to always leave a passport in your hotel/apartment/fire safe. i told him this was contrary to everything i'd read or been told, but he said it was the number one reason "people like me" come to "people like him" and how there is no logistical reason to have your passport on you for risk of being stolen or lost. fair enough.

we walked out of the embassy pretty exhausted, but relieved...it sunk in on the walk back to the tube that 1) i could get home and 2) i could go to france if i chose to, even though i had lost the money and flight itineraries. so my first order of business was to go back to our hotel, book our journey to paris, and take a much-needed nap, after probably the most stressful 36 hours of my life.

and that's it, folks. i lived to tell...it's probably even a great story, no matter how tragic and hopeless and miserable it felt to live it. right now i'm typing from paris, france, the city i've wanted to see my entire life; my passport (and james') is sitting on the little fireplace right within my line of vision...and life is pretty good.

paris entries to come...for now: sleep.
bon nuit, mes amis.
chouchoot: (tragedy)
day 7: still in manchester, james and i begun with a delicious breakfast at semi-posh dining place where i ate my first non-english breakfast (i got a little addicted to the bacon, egg & beans). after decidedly (and typically european, we had learned) slow service, we finally got our check, paid, and went for a day of record shopping in the northern quarter, where james was in heaven. having less of an interest in vinyl (though i love music stores, my time-tolerance is a bit shorter), i took advantage of james' preoccupation and wandered the north end myself for some time alone in manchester, and photo opportunities. there i found tons of cute places--mostly thrift/antique stores and alternative food/drink venues--and interesting buildings and graffiti. i bought a zine (or independent publication, i'm not sure) from a cute little vegan coffee-shop/computer cafe place called the basement, which, despite their motif of anti-american propaganda, was totally welcoming and cute. i finally made my way back to see james, who had his hands full of music goodies in vinyl exchange; he cashed out and we began to make our way back to the hotel.

now, this is where the story turns sour and dramatic. this is where the vacation goes from seamless, scenic and perfect to stressful, emotional and chaotic.

on the way back to the hotel i realized i was pretty hungry, so we stopped in one of a million fish n' chips places to pick up a bite. obsessively, just as i had the entire trip, i went for my money and verification that i had everything: map, money, identification, itinerary book, passport. it was on the latter that i lingered and realized...i didn't have it. anywhere. manchester was the first place i took a break from my "security wallet" that i had been wearing under my clothes: like orlando, i felt very comfortable toting a wallet in my back pocket (which i suppose i also slid my passport into). at the restaurant, i freaked out, and decided i needed to immediately head back to the hotel--we were bound to leave for vienna at 4pm, afterall--to confirm that it was in fact in my luggage. we walked back the entire way--and wouldn't you know, for the first time during our entire trip, it started pouring.

we arrived at the hotel and asked to see our luggage (they had been holding it for us since our check-out that am)...i unabashedly rolled my suitcase over to the floor and started frantically pulling out items. sometime before this, part of me knew it wasn't anywhere packed: i pack meticulously and with a list, for crissakes. but i went through the motions, unrolling every item of clothing, fanning every book and flyer, emptying every pocket. at this time a very nicely dressed business executive couple--perhaps on an interview, or afternoon cocktailing--sat near me, and looked cautiously at me in my state. at this point, i was sobbing, dirty clothes strewn out, laundry and flyers and travel-gear everywhere. i was a mess. james was with the concierge, calling places to see if a passport had turned up. no luck. after we were sure it was nowhere (and at this point it felt like it could be anywhere: both of our luggage pieces were completely unturned and in chaos), we began our trek retracing our steps to each and every place we had frequented in the past 36 hours. it was...exhausting. two places (a convenience store and a late-night veggie-burger take-out window) seemed panicked/uncomfortable when i asked about a "passport," while others said no straightly, a few offered suggestions and tried to help. i began then moving on to worst-case-what-next-scenarios, which all felt pretty terrible. what about vienna? babsi? paris? the itinerary? [livejournal.com profile] coffeefortwo and our paris apartment? getting home? james? it was pretty dramatic and hopeless feeling. i realized that, unless it had turned up (and someone had contacted our hotel), our only plan of action was to return to london, some 4-6 hours away by bus, and deal with the american embassy. so, we resolved to do that "tomorrow," settling on a nice italian dinner beforehand.

we returned to our hotel, recounting our unluckiness, and asked to renew our room an extra night. fate would have it that the hilton was completely full/booked (23 floors. seriously.). fate would also have it that manchester football had some big home game, but we didn't know that information quite yet. so wrestled with what to do, and decided instead to go get a drink and talk out our options. it seemed, really, the only logical thing to do was to get to london, and get there as fast as possible: even if my passport turned up, it was an unlikely chance. i walked over to check the times on the coach services to london and found a few time options that worked for that evening, so we hung out at fab for another night, watching cheesy b-movies with our luggage stacked in a corner (smoky! but no choice) and waiting for midnight to come. (by this time, it was after 7pm). around 11pm i started getting antsy so we left the bar and headed to the coach station...only to find out that all manchester-to-london coach was full...both at midnight, and 1:30am. i couldn't believe after such a terrible day that we had then waited around a bar for 4 hours only for all bus lines to be completely full. we bought tickets for the 8am departure to london, resolving to check-in to a hotel and at least get some rest before our long day ahead of us...and this is where, after about a mile of walking at midnight with our luggage and dark clouds above our head, we found out that every hotel in the city centre was booked full occupancy. i couldn't believe it. we made our way back to the bus station to sleep, and wait for the 8am bus--homeless, and easily the worst way to end a really, really bad day that i could think of.

at some point between midnight and 1am i thought about asking the national express folks about possibly moving our journey to an earlier time--even just 6 am, and explained my situation (just the hotel-part, not even the passport-part). the guy must've felt sorry for me, thought i was cute, or maybe just thought i looked completely pathetic and broken, because somehow we went from leaving at 6am (admittedly an improvement) to having "priority stand-by" and actually boarding the 1:30am bus for london. i was happy enough to cry. james and i couldn't sit together, which was sort of okay considering how grateful we were...and then, just as the bus started, so did the drunk manchester sports fans who took up the bulk of the back of the coach, and spent (i wish i was exaggerating) 80% of the 6 hour bus ride quoting borat, singing dirty rap songs, and screaming. it was ridiculously bad, but through it all i somehow managed to sleep just a little; we arrived in london right around 6:45am...i watched the sun rise over london from the huge front-window of a bus, and in a way it was quite beautiful.

when we arrived at victoria station, we headed back to our very first hotel, the luna & simone, which i had loved on our first-day. and here's the second little gesture that totally made this day-from-hell bearable: they checked us in at 7am (4 hours before check-in, and with virtually no notice), switched us to a better room that was also available at that hour (vs. waiting until 9-10-11 am for a clean/empty one), and served us breakfast (both this morning and the following morning, even though we really were only entitled to one breakfast for 1 night's stay). it was an unbelievably gracious gesture: between these amazing guys at the hotel and the man at the national express counter, i seriously think i might have gone crazy that night. but kindness counts for miles, especially in this sort of situation. i really don't think i could've taken anything for granted after all that i experienced on this particular day.
chouchoot: (Default)
(i completely left out an entire half-day worth of trip info, so this entry will be post-dated chronologically to remedy this.)

after a morning of record shopping in manchester's northern quarter, we headed out by rail to liverpool, a smaller and more dank version of manchester just under an hour away. being in the U.K., and more specifically, in the north of england, i knew i had to visit the birthplace of the beatles--my graceland. we arrived rather later than we expected (shooting for morning, in actuality we arrived around 2pm). liverpool was small and easy to navigate on foot, so the first order of business was to locate albert dock, the port on the edge of the city where the beatles story exhibition and museum was located. it had gotten much much cooler in temperature, and walking by the water was picturesque and serene. finally we located the entrance, and began our journey through the history of the beatles (almost all of which i already knew) in beneath ground, winding, sensory-overloaded rooms. the exhibition allows you to travel through time and actually witness and participate in many significant moments in the beatles history, from brian epstein's record shop to the cavern club. each "room" has been painstakingly recreated and filled with sounds and sights (including the traditional-museum-stock of handwritten lyrics/original instruments/clothes/photos/etc.). photos weren't allowed and for some reason i behaved; the rooms were painstakingly detailed and vivid. by the end of the museum, there is of course "solo" career rooms--paul's is mostly dedicated to his music and the liverpool arts foundation he is currently contributing to. but nothing could have prepared me for the next--and final--room: a heart-wrenching, recreation of john's white room in which the "imagine" video was filmed in his NY apartment. again, everything was sensory-stimulated, so as we entered the lights brightened, the music (imagine) began, and the piano just seemed to have his ghost there, trapped and playing for us...it was very moving, and simultaneously, very difficult (for me) to handle. we completed the "story" and exited through the giftshop, then headed back to walk around liverpool with a sort of heightened awareness i can't explain in words.

liverpool looked like it was on the cusp of a very significant metamorphosis: the entire city was getting a facelift. surely this has something to do with the city of culture 2008 award/honor the city has received; regardless, most of what i wanted to walk around and see was in all sorts of construction disarray. i took a few pictures at pier head, where 3 remarkable buildings reside; across the water the sun was beginning to set and liverpool was turning grey, and cold. we walked our way back to the train station, taking side roads and lots of pictures, finally arriving and heading back to manchester for a night out. while we didn't spend too much time there, i was really grateful to have stepped-foot in liverpool: the nerd in me felt a kind of magic to be walking the same streets the fab four might have so many years ago.
chouchoot: (Default)
day 5: began with our departure from london via coach, en route to manchester, england in the north. the ride up was comfortable enough; the drive made me grateful we hadn't attempted to drive ourselves with a rental (signs, directions, side of the road americanisms). most of the scenery was a bit bland, but with moments of picturesque rural-ness (mostly hilly countryside, farms, old churches in the middle of nowhere). on the horizon very far away we saw a few castles (mind-blowing to think about), but after a while my castle-searching got desperate and i began mistaking water towers for castle towers.

manchester was cold and grey, and the first thing that stood out to me is the color of the skies and architecture were powerfully gloomy. to me, this dark industrial-era brick was gorgeous, but after a while i could see how the (lack of) color might be depressing. we took a free public bus (there are 3 of them that are on continuous replay throughout the city centre) towards our hotel, the mammoth and new deansgate hilton. 23 floors of swank, mod poshness that i didn't ever really feel worthy of, but it was james' booking and he felt like we might need a bit of pampering after days of travel-transport-dirtiness. our room was huge and gorgeous--larger than most american hotel rooms, in fact--and had a great view overlooking the city.

we spent our first day exploring manchester, which we learned very quickly was 100% walkable, from corner-to-corner. we didn't even bother with the public transportation, because most times we could get where we needed to in less time without it. our travels on foot took us, instinctively, to the city centre, where the town hall was--a commanding neo-gothic structure with intricate beauty--which happened to be the site of a huge irish celebration. in a way, it felt like we got a "freebie" country experience out of manchester--we were surrounded by irish people, music, food, and drink. very surreal. more walking meant the discovery of the north end, a terrific area of town filled with record store after record store (james' dream). our first night we did a bit of bar-hopping, though it seemed sunday was a bit of a slow night for it and most places were closed. the highlight of this night was walking down canal street, the thriving gay district of manchster, and stopping in at a few very cute bars to people-watch. canal and princess both had an unfathomable number of gay and gay-friendly bars, and overall the atmosphere was very welcoming. on our way back we spotted the hacienda condos--now urban yuppie flats instead of the music-heaven it once was.

day 6 in manchester was spent exclusively exploring the north end. i took a ton of pictures and wandered around by myself while james was lost searching for old and rare vinyl. by afternoon we made our way to liverpool (separate entry to come), and finally returned to manchester by evening for dinner and more bar hopping. this time, we actually found a few hopping places, including the hipster-hangout 5th avenue, who subtly totes the reputation as being "the best indie bar in the world." for 2 free drinks with only a £2 cover i'd be tempted to agree, but unfortunately (being old) it felt like a high school dance more than a bar, so we left after finishing our free alcopop (pictures also to come), and hit up a few other cute places. noteworthy bars/pubs patroned on these nights: the thirsty scholar, fab, and some adorable place underground in the middle of a street that literally fits only about 10 people.

by the end of it, i felt like we'd exhausted manchester and all it had to offer: we had started navigating by memory, without the need of the map. by this point, the buildings and sky had started to blend together transparently, and both james and i theorized that it was this blandness that (perhaps) gave joy division and the smiths something to sing about.

other notes on manchester:
-people really are friendlier in the north.
-some mancs are seriously rough. i'm talkin' mean-streets-of-manchester-looking.
-a cute scottish clerk at a record store thought i had a great accent!
-all the homeless people from london? yeah, they're in manchester.
chouchoot: (Default)
day 4 (saturday): james and i woke up decently early to explore notting hill and the notorious portobello market. we arrived at the area with great ease--the underground is seriously a feat of mastermind organization--it's so logical, seemless, and orderly. i love it. saturday was a strangely colder day than we'd experienced, but it was crisp and lovely. upon arriving, we sampled a pret-a-manger delectable brekkie sandwich, and literally followed the scores of people pouring in and out of the main area. notting hill itself is usually identified by its colorful pastel buildings and quaint-ness--we had no trouble recognizing our location immediately. we walked the streets with hundreds of others--locals and tourists alike--beginning at the antiques end and ending up with the food and hand-made goods. i bought a handmade patchwork silk skirt (somewhat replaces one i lost many years ago) for £25, and while i don't tend to splurge on myself that often or expensively, i knew i'd regret passing it up. mostly, portobello market proved a great place to people-watch and take pictures...street vendors, collectors, swank europeans, you name it. i experienced some fast-food-seafood-anomaly that i have still not yet identified, but for £3 i had a brimming container full of a scallopy-shrimp yumminess that i couldn't even finish.

after the market, james and i walked around the area a little--kensington was an area we hadn't yet really experienced. it was really beautiful, but mega-posh. the sun came down and we headed back over to nearby holloway, where [livejournal.com profile] beezlebryan, his ladyfriend, and another wonderful woman from brussels, kept us company and prepared us a delicious lasagna. it was a quiet, humble, and perfect way to end my time in london (insert heavy foreshadowing) before moving upwards, to the north.

more random bits of london-observation:
-where are the trashcans?
-if there's anything that makes me question whether or not i could live in europe, it's the smokers everywhere! totally gross.
-getting your bill after a meal takes a really, really long time.
chouchoot: (Default)
so, i lost my passport in manchester.
i'm an idiot.

if it weren't for this little underground cafe with free internet and nice vegans everywhere, i think i'd be on the floor sobbing. i mean, i already did that, but i'd be doing it again.

we were to depart for vienna today...in an hour. then paris in a few days.

now, unless it turns up (we're painstakingly retracing our steps all over this city), we're back to london to meet with the united states embassy.
chouchoot: (Default)
day 3 (friday): late-morning wake-up. spent the day at the british museum, which ended up being huge and impossible to disregard. i can't even believe this museum is so colossal, and (best of all) free. we spent many hours there--my favorite rooms were those devoted to egyptian relics, mummies, etc. afterwards, we had a decent, relaxed italian meal near bloomsbury.

i should here mention that food has been sort of an afterthought--a rare thing for me. it's like we've been too busy to eat, and so far we're more or less having one meal a day. the food has actually been really good--even our "traditionally english" meals have been delicious--indian in camden (essentially fast-food-esque but tasty), several "on the go" snacks (pret-a-manger might be my favorite), etc.

friday night we planned to do the jack the ripper london walks tour, so we arrived a bit early to check out the tower of london again. no ravens (but thankfully i did see plenty of them at hamstead heath), but some great visions were seen walking aside the thames. at 7:30pm, we left for our walking tour with a group of about 50--it was excellent. most of the areas are redeveloped so the ambiance is sort of lost (i.e. talking about a victim's body found somewhere that is, um, now a 1970's multi-level parking garage), but the story-teller was excellent and well-informed. we ended up near liverpool street and the east-end, so instead of heading back to the underground we decided to stop at one of many old pubs nearby for a pint. the one we ended up at dated back to 1666, but the regulars were decidedly average and a bit boring. after a drink (and yes, virginia, they do serve southern comfort in the UK) we made our way back to the flat, where i met miss [livejournal.com profile] so_esoteric (bryan's flatmate), who was wonderfully sweet and recommended that we check out a neighborhood dive bar, big red. so we did, and it was quite excellent--ironically sort of american-themed (native american indians + hair rock + harley davidson; i can't explain it any other way but this was the decor and music in a nutshell). we didn't stay too long but took it as an opportunity to people-watch and enjoy one of our last nights in london.

random bits of london-observations:
-there are virtually no homeless people here.
-the weather has been beautiful--crisp, cool, sunny, and only a bit of drizzle.
-the tube gets really crowded at "rush hour" and personal space cannot be an issue.
-there are moments here where streets/buildings remind me of boston, and seattle.
-no one seems to love or hate us as traveling americans.
-there are almost no visually-obvious (or sub-culturally stereotypical) gays/lesbians in this town.
-my allergies aren't doing so hot; my snot is tinted black.

goodnight.
chouchoot: (Default)
day 1 (wednesday): both [livejournal.com profile] coffeefortwo & co., and james and i arrived in london via gatwick, after a quite delightful flight on british airways. as my first international flight, the perks were new to me: we received two decent/large meals (dinner and breakfast), free liquor (including quite good wine), access to a ton of good films and music (kraftwork, nick cave, tom waits oh my!), a travel-pak with socks, mini-toothbrush, and sleeping mask...i was really impressed. i slept a great deal of the flight, though i woke up disoriented here and there, we finally arrived at dawn in london, england.

we went through customs for the first time, and i felt maybe a little too proud to get that first stamp in my passport. we changed our cash into £, which was depressing (it has been one part of this trip i have tried to ignore), and went our separate ways from d&a, who were bound for wales. james and i purchased rail tickets for victoria station (and oyster cards) and thus our journey into london began.

the train ride into london was interesting...as with most airports, gatwick didn't appear to be in the most representative area; there were lots of dodgy-looking neighborhoods and rural run-down regions. still, traveling by train through any part of england has been a life-fantasy of mine--i wasn't in any position to complain. we arrived at victoria station--a surreal port for all modes of transportation--and experienced our first travel snafu: oyster cards that didn't work at the victoria turnstile, and complete confusion as to why. we asked an attendant, who told us oyster cards were prepaid and didn't count, and proceeded to buy £17.50 worth of tickets to pass-go. working it out in our head later we realized that our train tickets (already checked on the train) were, probably, what we needed to use to get through. this expensive mistake burned in my memory for many hours of the first-day.

outside victoria station was bustling full of people and transportation. the side-of-the-road thing was my biggest culture shock, as i struggled with "which way" to look at each and every corner. we made our way to the hotel, an adorable little place nestled between victoria and plimco tube stops. we were still very early, so we dropped our luggage off and went back to explore the streets a little. we bumped into westminister cathedral with virtually no effort--i was completely impressed by its beauty and sheer commanding size. we went inside, a bit ignorant to the mass that was taking place, and (unintentionally sacrilegiously) oooh'd and aahhh'd over the beauty and size of the place.

after a bit more walking around our area of belgrave road, and some snacking, we arrived back to the hotel for a nap. i've heard mixed things about napping on your first day of travel, as it supposedly off-sets the ability to overcome jet-lag. well i'll just say that we must've needed it, because we woke up new. after just a few hours of rest we were able to head out into london again, and give the underground a go. thanks in part to many-a subconscious hour of memorization (the underground tube map as my desktop wallpaper at work), i had absolutely no issues understanding what to do, where to go, and how to switch lines. seriously, public transportation at it's finest (to think i had an issue in NYC!). we got, very effortlessly, over to westminister, which was beautiful and surreal (as the image of london i've always associated with her); disappointingly, loads of construction, tourists, and sun-exposure made the experience a little muddied. we walked around from there to see westminister abbey (fairly unimpressive, actually, though my pictures look nice), the city, and a few other quintessential landmarks. from here, we decided to walk to the tower of london, hoping to make it before darkfall. we got a little misdirected with some of the streets, but we did make it (by dusk). tower bridge was breathtaking and actually looked great at night, so we were glad for our determination to arrive by foot. the tower itself, however was closed and very expensive, so we decided not to go in. we headed back towards our hotel and victoria, stopping for (when in rome) fish n' chips and a very tasty bar/restaurant called (appropriately, for me) shakespeare's. james had a very decent pint that i nursed a little, and after it was gone we headed back to the hotel.

day two (thursday): awoke very early, and very well-adjusted to british-time (?). our hotel was serving "a traditional english breakfast," which for free included cereal, toast/jam, tea, and eggs/bacon/beans. the eggs/bean thing was actually pretty incredible--it seemed weird only initially, then somehow seemed totally fitting and tasty. we, like all good americans, finished every last bit. we checked out of the hotel and made our way towards camden and islington, to meet up with the fantastic and charming [livejournal.com profile] beezlebryan outside holloway tube station. we headed back to his flat nearby, talked for an hour or so, then made our way onward for some serious walking and sightseeing. we saw a lot...the bulk of soho, oxford street, the west end, picadilly circus, trafalgar square, national portrait gallery (only briefly), many-many shops, st. martin's street ("she came from greece she had a thirst for knowledge...")...then camden market, hampstead heath, and highgate cemetery. it's hard to imagine, thinking back, that we did all this in roughly 7 hours but somehow we did. later that night, we headed back to the west end to see the RSC's rendition of the tempest at the novello theatre, starring patrick stewart! it was terrific. our seats were very high up but the venue was gorgeous and intimate regardless. stewart was a natural on-stage, of course, and it was great to see a (to some) living legend perform. the other players were actually incredible--my favorite was an unlikely uncharacteristic version of ariel (the sprite/spirit who prospero frees), as played by an erasure-esque tall man cloaked in black. it was awesome. after the performance, we searched for a bite to eat, but london is strangely not a 24-hour city (at least for food); we finally found a little sandwich place to eat, which was good enough for us.
chouchoot: (Default)
it's my first bit of internet-access since i left on tuesday...so much has happened and been experienced that i can't even begin, here, to name it all. full updates and details to come...but suffice it to say that london is completely and totally amazing...everything i have ever seen, read, or heard is personified in this city tenfold and in technicolor. we've had no troubles finding anything--the underground is completely fabulous--and only one tourist-mishap which can be blamed mostly on jetlag.

right now i'm sitting on a couch with two other girls who are from brussels, all of us sipping wine. my belly is full of amazing lasagna one of them made for us. the boys--[livejournal.com profile] beelzebryan and james--are playing table-football; i think james is winning for the moment.

we leave tomorrow for manchester. i'm a little sad to be leaving london already; it doesn't feel like home per se but it does feel like a place where i'd love to be for a long, long time.
chouchoot: (Default)
london calling.

i've only wanted this my whole life, and yet last night couldn't sleep because i was thinking about work.
at any rate, i'm packed and ready and leaving soon...will fly and then arrive; it'll be a new day, and i'll be in london.

i don't think i'm going to want to come back.
chouchoot: (reddreads)
today i spent a good chunk of time studying the london underground system. it's pretty easy to do when the tube station map is your desktop wallpaper, and i'm just nerdy enough to do that. i also just booked the rail reservation from paris to london, which locks in all-but-one mode of transportation (not counting buses/day trips within the UK, which i'm willing to wing)--vienna to paris. i'm totally trying to avoid flying (and have romanticized the idea of a long train ride across europe) more than i have to, but we'll see what happens.

french lessons are being neglected. i've hardly researched any lodging. james has been appointed director of manchester affairs; [livejournal.com profile] v0rtex i gave him that guide you sent me way back when and it's proving very helpful. dover may be scratched for time, though castles and coast were once priorities for us...who knows now. i'm doing my best to only plan the essentials, and (more importantly) just be well-prepared and researched but comfortable with the organic, unpredictability of a foreign destination. once transportation and lodging are locked in, really, the rest can be totally extemporaneous. i love it. i can't believe i'm going to europe in a little over 2 months.
chouchoot: (Default)
the flights were booked an embarrassingly-long time ago, i admit it. but now my trip to europe is only 4 months away, which is a reasonable amount of time (for a girl like me) to start planning the details. the itinerary is still up in the air in terms of exact dates and durations, but the cities have been chosen:

-london
-dover
-manchester
-liverpool
-vienna
-paris

last night i booked the flight from manchester to vienna, at the half-way point of the trip (flying in/out of london), so those are 3 locked in locations to shuffle around. part of me wants to go crazy and try to squeeze in edinburgh (extra city + country!), but we're really spreading ourselves thin enough with these cities/countries. i've been waiting 27 years to do this; part of me, i think, fears it's going to be another two decades before i go again, and therefore i've got to squeeze it all in this time. i know better. but i'm really excited regardless.

if anyone who's been to the above has any suggestions for itineraries, must-sees (or warnings), comment here or email!
(squee! holycrapi'mgoingtoeurope!)

Profile

chouchoot: (Default)
chouchoot

April 2017

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9 101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
30      

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 28th, 2025 09:41 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios