Bavaria

When you fly into Vienna, if you are lucky, you will fly over Schloss Schonbrunn.  One of innumerable Habsburg Palaces, this one has 1441 rooms if you believe the tour books.  It sets the tone for what you are about to encounter...more palaces and Habsburgs than you can imagine

Towards the end of the 13th century the Habsburg family rose to power over the Babenburg family who had been in charge since the late 10th century...before that Charlemagne and the Romans.  The Habsburgs were pretty much in control until the end of World War I.  On the upside, there are really only 4 choices on any given history quiz but, on the downside, it's hard to really to differentiate one Habsburg from another...except Maria Theresa mostly because she is (a) Marie Antoinette's mother, and (b) the only woman.

The Innere Stadt (the part that was once protected by the city walls) is dominated by the Hofburg which is really just a big rambling palace that was created as one generation tried to one up the previous generation's living quarters.  It's hard to understand how big the place is: six museums, a chapel, the president of Austria's offices, the national library, the Lipizzaner Stallions stable and their arena, a greenhouse, and a park.  I'm sure I missed something.  After a while you are pretty much just wandering around staring blindly at building after building.  They are beautiful but after a couple of hours...they start to look a bit the same.  I did enjoy my tour through the Schatzkammer (Imperial Treasury) but probably not why you think...it is full of things that just reasonably can't be legitimate.  A unicorn horn (actually a narwhal tusk) and the nail that held Christ's right hand to the cross (presumable they just had it an old box before they got the 15th century case it is in now...I wonder who has the left one?) are stand outs in this category for me.

The reason I went to Vienna was to see the Gustav Klimt exhibit at Schloss Belvedere (another Habsburg Palace).  Klimt is my favourite artist and this exhibit was especially curated in celebration of the 150th anniversary of his birth...so probably my only opportunity to see so many of his paintings in one place at one time.  My favourite was a mural called The Longing for Happiness.  It is painted directly onto the wall so it doesn't photograph very well...but it is incredible in person.  On the opposite wall was Klimt's iconic The Kiss.

                     

Next up was a quick stop in Salzburg.  Growing up on the prairies the only picture in my mind of what Europe looked like was Julie Andrews running through alpine meadows and singing up a storm around fancy fountains, so, I've always had it in the back of my mind that someday I would go and see it for myself.  I actually went on a Sound of Music bicycle tour which was great fun and gave me the opportunity to see a bunch of the real places from the movie.  Some things were really great to see but sometimes it is better to just leave things in the movies.  Turns out the mountain they walked over in the movie actually leads to Germany...I guess Hollywood wasn't troubled by these little details!  Also, having stood at the door to the Abbey (see me below)...it is no wonder Maria didn't hear the bells for prayers...the mountain is several miles away.

As a cap to my whirlwind Bavarian tour, I met up with some friends in Munich for Oktoberfest.  What trip to Bavaria would be complete without a trip to Oktoberfest?  It all starts with a parade of beer wagons pulled by heavy horses through the city to the festival grounds where the mayor taps the first keg to get the party started.  The crowds, including us, just join the end of the parade and make their way to the festival to enjoy a few beverages.  Amazingly, the majority of people are dressed in traditional dirndls & lederhosen.  I understand from some first time lederhosen wearers that one must carefully plan ahead for bathroom breaks as suede trousers fastened with buttons are not that easy to get undone!  The zipper is a much under appreciated invention.

I did so many other things during my week: the opera, a Mozart concert in a castle, tours of a salt mine and the BMW museum, shopping, trains through the countryside, the Berchtesgaden region (where Hitler's Eagles Nest is), and much more...but it seems as though this entry is already long enough!

Great North Run

A year ago when I moved to England (yes, it has been a year), I saw this amazing half marathon broadcast live on the BBC. 50,000 participants running on a Sunday morning. I ask you, how is that not mesmerising television? If you aren't a runner, please don't answer. If you are a runner, I know your answer already.

There is nothing about my physical appearance that suggests I should run. Frankly, it is a challenge to find a sports bra that will contain the girls and my legs are short and stocky. Paula Radcliffe I am not.  But I am stubborn. Seven half marathons don't lie. Stubborn to the bone.

So, last Sunday I found myself in Newcastle with 50,000 other people on a Sunday morning ready to run. Some were athletes but lots were just stubborn like me. It took 30 minutes just to get from where I was lined up to the start line. The logistics are a nightmare. They have to close a dual carriage way (that's a divided highway for you North Americans) and reroute all the traffic from Newcastle to South Shields.

Talking with other runners after the race, I would say a description of the course is all in the eye of the beholder. A guy from Swansea told me he was surprised how flat it was. A girl from Brighton confirmed his thoughts. Let me tell you, if you grew up in the wide open prairies of Canada, it was not even close to flat. More like an alpine endurance test but set in the northern reaches of England. It's been two days and my quads still hurt when I have to go down stairs!

I would like to think that I have learned my lesson and I will stop with this ridiculous running obsession but I'm stubborn.

But I do wish they had a few more Pot-A-Loos (aka Port-A-Potties) on the course...some things remain the same no matter which side of the world you are on.

Olympics

Better late than never, right?  I LOVE the Olympics.  This isn't surprising to anyone who lived through my previous Olympic experience in Vancouver.  Let me tell you, the recurrence of Olympic Fever is more intense than the first go around. 

 

I started off the games at a wonderful party at at friend's flat (Thanks MA!) that overlooked the Olympic Stadium.  I was a great night all around running between the balcony and the TV.  It seemed that every flat in her building and the surrounding ones was doing just the same thing and it made the evening feel like a big community event as we talked from balcony to balcony.  The only other night like it that I remember was NYE 1999 as we celebrated the arrival of the new century.  The best moment?  Since Stratford Station was exit only, they performers had to walk down to the next station, Homerton, to get home.  Since they were all still in costume it was pretty easy to figure out where they were coming from.  As they waited for their train we, being all the people on the surrounding balconies, gave them a round of applause.  They reciprocated with an impromptu reprise of their dance number from the opening ceremony right on the train platform for us!  It was amazing and totally blows my Dad's theory out of the water that song and dance numbers don't just pop up in the middle of everyday life (he's a bit of a musical hater).  I have to say pop-up musical moments have happened many times in my life.  Maybe you have to be a believer to experience these things.

The next day I was fortunate enough to meet up with E&J (an aside - this acronym makes me laugh because of the obvious reference to Ernest & Julio Wine...which is not so good...if only you knew how much vino E&J and I have drank over the years!!) for some quality time at Hyde Park watching the Men's Road Race on the big screen with a few thousand other city dwellers.  It was a lot of fun.  We followed up with a rambling walk through Mayfair through to Covent Garden by way of a couple of pubs.  The best way to spend an afternoon in London!

Sunday saw me and N get up early to catch a train out to Box Hill (south of London) where we trudged up a hill and sat for 4 hours waiting to see our hero Clara Hughes in action. Many new day-friends (you know the sort...you've never seen them before and you'll never see them again but on that day it is hard to understand how you never ran into each other before) where made on the way up the hill and while hanging out for a few hours.  We could hear the race over the loud speakers and it reminded me of listening to Rider games on the radio as a kid.  When Clara finally appeared she was leading the pelaton up the hill!! Exciting does not begin to describe it.

It is always surprising to me how much the Canadian presence in the wars is valued in Europe.  We were clothed in our best Team Canada attire for the occasion so our allegiance was pretty obvious.  On the way up the hill a local man told us all about the Canadian military history in the area.  I realized that he was actually telling me the British perspective of the stories that my next door neighbour, Roy, in Winnipeg used to tell me about his time stationed in England.  He would have been stationed there.  Small world.

Tuesday saw me with N again to watch the Women's Weightlifting competition where Canada won a bronze!  If it weren't for the "Weightlifting for Dummies" video a few minutes before the event we wouldn't have had a clue.  All in all it was a really good event to watch.  There was far more strategy than I realized.  The woman who won gold had two chances to break the world record with her final lifts.  She didn't make it but the whole crowd was totally behind her.  For me, there is no better Olympic moment than when the whole crowd is cheering, not for a specific country, but just because the display of athleticism and achievement in front of them is so amazing.  I wish she would have made her lift.  The crowd would have roared!

Wednesday was my final day of Olympic activities...Beach Volleyball with my friend S!  I don't dispute the athleticism of the players...anyone in my grade 9 Phys Ed class could tell you that I was a disaster on a volleyball court... but I am still not sure it is an Olympic event.  However, it is definitely a good time!  The location, right in behind Horse Guards Parade, is fantastic.  They even have a dance team (in bathing suits) that do little numbers in the breaks.  Good fun for sure.  Plus, I did see a guy who was 6'11" playing for Russia.  If you don't have to jump to get your hands over the net it is a pretty good advantage!

S & I spent the rest of day wandering about the parks winding up back at Hyde Park to watch on the big screens again.  It was a really nice day to be in the heart of the tourist zone.  Hardly any traffic and almost no tourists.  You could even be in front of Buckingham Palace without guards yelling at you to keep moving as there weren't enough people about to even bother yelling!  Generally, that was the weird thing about London during the Olympics, there was nobody around.  The trains were less busy than normal, there was very little traffic on the roads, and even foot traffic was lighter than normal.  People did what they were told and stayed off the trains when they were going to be busy, worked from home, or just took holidays, and it worked.  They increased usage on the system by 30% which is incredible.  As hard as British Journalists tried to find disgruntled Olympic fans to interview, all they got was a bunch of happy people who where nothing but impressed with the TFL (Transport for London...the dark under-lords who hold us hostage on their trains daily).

For the record, Vancouver was better.

Windsor

An exciting weekend!  My Aunt C and her daughter (my cousin) R have come to visit me and see a bit of Europe.  It's nice to have company from home...my Aunt and I have the same sense of humour and it is great to share a laugh about some of the English oddities in daily life.  This can sometimes lead to major embarrassment for R while C and I pose for pictures with ridiculous signs around the city ("Caution Plant Movements" was my particular favourite).

Friday night we went to Les Miserables which is still as good as the first time I saw it.  Perhaps better because last time I saw it from the very last row of the top balcony of the Centre of the Arts in Regina.  When you can actually see the people on stage it makes a difference.  Go figure.  I was able to refrain from singing along but I did mouth the words to a few of my favourites.

Saturday we made our way out to Windsor to have a look around Liz & Phil's family home.  It must be so weird to have thousands of people trolling all around your home on any given weekend.  I have been to Windsor years ago with my brother J  but I was keen to have a second look.  The second time around was really enjoyable as I didn't feel like I needed to have the audio guide plastered up to my ear.  Instead, I actually looked around!

The most impressive parts of the castle, at least to me, are the bits that have been revealed by and restored after the big fire in 1992.  The restored St. George's Hall is a masterpiece.  Centuries old construction techniques in timber framing with green oak had to be re-created (and relearned!) and the results are beyond impressive.  The Queen's Private Chapel is one of the most beautiful spaces I have ever stood in.

By far the stand out of the tour was our trip into the actual kitchen space used to prepare for Royal banquets.  It is a beautiful space (what a ceiling!) and would be a nice space to cook in if you didn't have to cook for 160 people at once.  Not to mention dishes...which are done by hand.  I've been on the wash brigade at many a Bacon family meal...but we are only about 30 at most!

R and I ducked out Saturday night to a friend's birthday party over in Homerton.  Turns out beer drinking runs in the family...I think I would definitely struggle to keep up with little Miss R!  Hopefully as we get older (I'm already older so I guess as R gets older) we have more opportunities to hang out together over a few wobbly pops and think up ways to torment our brothers.  Look out J and G!

Sunday saw our trio check out a restaurant along Regent's Canal in Shoreditch that I have been running past for months and then a walk around Hyde Park.  We managed to snag an ice cream along the way which always makes me happy.  The girls are off to Paris for a few days and I am going to bed early!

Cornwall

Less than 12 hours after I arrived home from Turkey, my Mom was at my flat from Winnipeg!  How's that for timing!  I`m so proud of my Mom.  She grew up in little Ogema, Saskatchewan, and now she can get herself from Heathrow to my flat in Angel all on her own!  Pretty impressive in my mind. 

Me in an old copper mine building.

We took off for the English seaside and the beautiful scenery of Cornwall.  It is about 5 hours by train from London which means that most of my co-workers have never been there because it is "so far away".  Fortunately, being two prairie girls, we thought it was really close, and, travelling by train means you can snack, nap, go for a walk, read the paper, and never have to take a turn driving! Plus, no plastic baggy of liquids or security check...just show up and board.

We stayed a nice little B&B (http://www.chyanmor.co.uk/) a 10 minute walk from the station in Penzance (note: my mother requested all singing of Gilbert & Sullivan operas to be done only in my own head).  Penzance was a great base for exploration!  I think the highlight for me was definitely the tour we booked with Russ (http://www.westcornwallwalks.co.uk/about.html). He's a local guy who really knows his stuff so if you are ever in Cornwall definitely look him up.  I`m not even getting commission for this shameless plug.  If you want to go camping he`ll even set up your campsite for you (I`m not kidding...the back of his van includes "hassle-free camping" as an available service).

These flowers were growing out of a rock wall!

Cornwall is beautiful.  That probably is not shocking to anyone.  What surprised me is that there are really three different Cornwall's: eerie barren moor lands, lush green valleys, and golden sand beaches.  Plus, everywhere you go are the most amazing wildflowers.  The whole island is only 80 miles long and 20 miles wide but they sure do pack a lot in.  I had it in my mind that since I had been through the county of Caithness, the most northern point of mainland Scotland, years ago while backpacking that I should make a point of heading down to the southern extreme too.  It was definitely a good idea!  No offense to Caithness but I rather prefer Cornwall.

St. Ives

We spent a beautiful sunny day in St.Ives which really is as pretty as a postcard.  Not too many train stations are right at the beach.  I was really surprised at how clean & clear the water is...I always thought the ocean would look dark and foreboding but it was crystal clear and a pretty blue/green colour.  Swimming in algae infested fresh water lakes is losing it`s appeal pretty fast these days.

I would be terrified to be out in the ocean in one of these!

After a great long weekend, we headed back to London so I could go to work (boo!) and Mom could pack in a few more castles and palaces.  She managed to schedule me in for high tea at Claridge`s (aka little cucumber sandwiches with no crusts and dainties served with tea...and champagne), an afternoon of theatre, and a trip out to Kew Gardens to see the Royal Botanical Gardens.  Now I`m looking forward to a nice quiet weekend in...

Turkey

Waking up to the call to prayer from the local mosque is definitely a bit of a change from my Blackberry alarm...with the snooze feature in Marmaris fulfilled by the local roosters.  Sometimes it takes determination to sleep in...especially when the Resort's pool opens at 8am.  Good morning, Turkey!

I'm not really sure where to start with describing Turkey.  We stayed in a resort in the town of Marmaris which is right on the Aegean Sea. Turkey is the bridge between Asia and Europe and that actually seems to explain a lot when you think about it.  The west and south coasts of Turkey lay on the Aegean sea with Greece to the north and Syria to the south.  They seem to be stuck somewhere between in many ways.  We travelled many nice new highways but when you look out into the fields it is like a history lesson.  I never thought I would actually see fields of sheaves or that goat herding was still a occupation.  But then again, I had never seen free-range cattle either.  Some areas are incredibly behind the times but then you get into the next valley (southern Turkey is mountainous) and people are driving around in shiny new tractors.

We took a day trip to see Ephesus which is, if you believe the tourist literature, among the best preserved ancient cities in the Mediterranean. I believe it.  Definitely the first (and maybe the last) street paved in white marble I will likely walk on!  At it's peak, it had a population of about 250,000 and was the Roman capital of Asia Minor.  John supposedly wrote his version of the gospel in the city around 60 AD...Mary, as in the mother of Jesus, was also in the neighbourhood.  Even if, like me, you struggle with organized religion, it does make you sit up and take notice.  Probably owing to the number of plumbing projects I have undertaken at my house over the last few years, I am totally impressed with the Romans water and sewer systems!  And, the architecture is okay too.

One thing I will always remember are the abundant and spectacular wild flowers.  The funny thing is that they are all flowers that we grow in our gardens at home except the Turkish climate makes the results amazing (and of course they are wild and not bought from the local greenhouse)!  Hollyhocks growing 10 and 12 feet high with flowers the size of my fist, every colour of ganzia you can imagine, bright red poppies, azaleas the size of a golden elder bush with the brightest pink flowers I have ever seen.

Just to top off the trip, we also experienced a small earthquake!  I'm not sure "experience an earthquake" was on my bucket list?  Very strange to feel the earth shake under your feet.  We were standing on a dock at the time and weren't really sure what had happened.  Luckily our new local friend Joe (played defence for the Hamilton Bulldogs at one point...so of course we three Canadian girls would meet potentially the only Turkish Hockey player in Marmaris), told us what was going on.

Lips

Last night was my first choir concert in about 15 (?) years.  I had forgotten how much I truly LOVE to perform.  One of my friends was in the audience and commented on how happy I look when I am singing.  My secret?  I am happy.  Really truly perfectly absolutely happy.

I think have written briefly before about joining a choir here in London but just in case you are new to my blog...Lips is a women's choir (http://www.lipschoir.co.uk/) that performs pop songs.  We have two magnificent women (Jess & Kat) who arrange absolutely brilliant pieces for us to sing.  Make no mistake, the songs might be pop but the arrangements are at times incredibly complex.  We sing two acapella songs that are mind blowing.

The best part of Lips is that it is the most positive supportive group of people I have ever been around.  No divas, no rock star wannabees, no music snobbery just good people.  You know those boring moments in rehearsal where the Director is working with another section?  Well, it is not unusual when the section finally gets their part nailed that the whole choir breaks into spontaneous applause.  No rolling of eyes, no cranky attitude that you are slowing things down.  Applause.

The after party was also a blast.  I don't think we are invited back to the club we went to.  Ever dealt with a drunk and disorderly women's choir?  The bouncers hadn't either.  In most clubs you just stop the music, turn up the lights and move people to the front door.  Except, if Lips is on the dance floor.  No music? No problem! We have a couple dance medley's in the repertoire so we'll just sing our own music thank you very much.  And who doesn't want to hear Fleetwood Mac's The Chain once they've had a few drinks?  Better add that in too.  Chaos.  Beautiful.

I heard a rumour that there might be a recording of the show...I'll make sure to post it.  If you can't wait, check us out on YouTube (http://youtu.be/K9vwMbc0dJY).  Yes, those are kazoos, we are serious musicians.

Amsterdam

Of all the cities I have visited very few have ever received an "I would live here" rating.  Amsterdam definitely makes that very short list -- Dublin and London are the only other cities if you were wondering.  The combination of fashionable people going about their day to day business on roughed up old bicycles amid a very orderly canal system is rather romantic in my mind.

I definitely enjoyed the distinct lack of gas powered vehicles on the road.  There are bikes absolutely everywhere (and rarely a helmet seen).  Mostly they favour something a bit on the rusty side, cruiser style, with a black milk crate on the front.  Apparently this deters theft as there is nothing worth stealing.  You can also get a very cool version of a bicycle which has a bucket in the front...perfect for the kids!  And, on date night, just have your girlfriend perch side-saddle on the rear luggage rack.  Voila!  Transport for two.  If she is a keeper she'll hop off on the up part of the steeper bridges...run along side and then just hop back on at the top.

My hotel was just around the corner from Anne Frank's House overlooking the Keizergraacht (King's Canal).  I woke up and fell asleep to the same church bells that Anne wrote about so long ago in her famous diary.  The house itself, like anything connected to the Holocaust, is a sobering and grim experience.  Anne's father, Otto, the only survivor of the 8 hideaways, was adamant that the rooms remain empty and I think that makes the experience all the more powerful.  Seeing the pictures of Hollywood stars pasted to the walls in Anne's room reminded me how I did the exact same thing at her age (not actually pasted to the walls...but taped to the back of my bedroom door).

I did a few not-so-serious touristy things too...a tour on a Segway, a cruise on the Canals, and a bike tour out into the countryside sans helmet (which was actually acutely uncomfortable for me having almost scrambled my head in that altercation with the bus a few years ago).  The bike ride was amazing once I relaxed about my lack of safety gear.  We rode south along the Amstel River out into the country side to a windmill and then stopped into a farm.  The farmer was quite a character and I ended up talking to him for quite a while -- Grandma & Brenda you are going to love this bit -- in the barn while we checked out his most recent calf and his herd of dairy cattle.  Who knew the smell of a barn full of cattle held such a nostalgic scent?  He has about 40 head of cattle which produce enough milk to support his cheese making operation.  He is also one of 5 remaining clog manufacturers in Holland and we got a demo of how they make the clogs (from poplar) on these two old German machines.  Other than the milking shed, I don't think I saw a piece of equipment that was less than 40 years old.  His whole "farm" is less than 5 acres and that includes the house, barn, shop, etc. 

There was also some shopping time in the lovely boutiques in between the canals which included the discovery of an artist named Mariska Meijers (http://www.mariskameijers.com/screenprints/) who I got to talking with in her shop before I realized it was her shop.  I now own a copy of her Royal Delft with Apples.  She was a corporate lawyer in Singapore before she gave it up to move home and pursue her art career.  Maybe I'll find an inner artist yet.

Bluebell Wood

Yesterday was spent on a lovely wander through the woods between Tring and Berkhamsted.  I won't even pretend that I have a clue where I was most of day but our guide, Paul (http://www.ukwildadventures.com/), did a great job of showing us around even though the weather was a bit damp.  Okay, it was more than damp, it was downright wet and muddy!  But, no surprise to those who remember me as a child, I actually really didn't mind the mud at all. There is still a bit of thrill to be had when you are allowed to play in the mud.

The highlight of the hike was a meadow of bluebells.  They looked like a carpet of bright blue on the forest floor.  Quite other-worldly and so picture perfect you would almost think it was some clever Disney trick.  Mother nature really outdid herself in this instance. Everything was accented by some rather adorable little ones running around with umbrellas in colourful raincoats and rubber boots.  I imagine to them it must seem as though they had been let out to play right in the land of make believe.

It really was great day out.  I find it a bit exhausting to deal with such a big city all of time and a few hours in the quiet was just what I needed.  I enjoy living in London more than New York but, in both cases, I am/was living in the heart of a large urban centre which, while exciting, is constantly moving...vibrating with energy and noise.  It is exhilarating most of the time but in my mind "home" is still the wide open prairies.  When people ask me where I am from I usually describe it as just like the TV show Little House on the Prairies.  People usually laugh but then they can describe it back to me in detail.  They always ask if the people are really that nice and wholesome...and it always makes me so proud to be able to tell them that they really are.

The hike was concluded in a wonderful little pub along the canal called the Rising Sun (http://theriser.net/).  The publican himself, Nigel, gave us a very engaging education on ciders and perries - cider is made from apples and perry is made from pears.  I think I am totally converted to cider drinking now that I have tasted some of the best in Britain.  The rum cask aged one I ended with was spectacular!  Definitely a great recommendation from one of the regulars.

Well, I guess I should go and try to get the mud out of my hiking pants.  I managed to get it up to my knees...and then there are the places I wiped my dirty hands...remember when your Mom used to make you strip down at the door when you came in from playing?  Still applicable after all these years.

Tea Time

The weather is beautiful in London these days.  Warm sunny days seem to be the usual these days.  Definitely not typical for England.  In fact there is a pretty serious drought going on here and there is already water rationing in some of the most severely hit areas.

I'm enjoying my terrace (British for balcony) but missing my yard.  There is something about spring that makes me want to get my hands dirty.  Must be all that farming blood running through my veins.  Here they would call a yard a garden.  But the gardens that I have seen are all really little more than a tiny patch of space (12 feet x 20 feet would be pretty big) and doesn't really allow for any sort of gardening like Canadians are used to.  I often think of how big my Grandma's garden on the farm was when I spent my summers there!  And that was just the garden not the yard.  I actually have a picture of Grandpa & Grandma's current yard, looking out to the barn, on my computer screen at work and have been asked several times if ALL of that is our land.  I think they think my Grandparents are rich.  When I tell them how much land my Uncle farms their eyes get a little bugged out.  In Canada land is measured in sections and in England it it measured in square metres.  Very different scales of reference.

People who want to grow their own vegetables have an allotment.  This is like a plot in a community garden.  Allotment gardening is serious stuff over here.  People are on lists for years to get an allotment.  At first when I would see allotment gardens I could not figure out what was going on.  It looks like horrible mess to me.  The plots don't seem to be laid out in any sensible manner and there tend to be garden/tool sheds which range from fanciful doll houses to rotten lean-to's.  Weeding doesn't appear to be such a priority, in general, English gardens -- be they flowers or vegetables -- are far less tended than I am used to.

Not much of note happening these days for me (other than the sun bathing).  I have started collecting a proper English tea set from Fortnum & Mason.  You could substitute expensive for proper in the previous sentence if you wish.  Thanks to my recent visitors, I received a very nice gift certificate in the mail a few days after they left and I quickly invested it in a pretty little cream and sugar set to go with my new tea pot.  I have added a few other bits and bobs too.  I can report that a proper cup of tea, made with proper English tea, is available to any future visitors.  But you'll have to drink out of very improper mugs...because I'm still saving up for the tea cups to match!

Hyde Park

Today was a good day for a nice long walk.  Up until today I had never actually been in Hyde Park.  Sure, I had been on the periphery a few times and knew where it was in location to some other spots (for example my favourite department store, Harvey Nichols, is very close) but I had never actually ventured forth to explore. 

Given that I knew people rode horses in the park -- there was some benefit to reading all those cheesy historical romance novels -- I guess I should have been prepared for how big it is as you obviously need a bit of space if you are going to enjoy a decent ride.  Or at least I suppose you need some space but I don't know much about genteel horse riding being that I'm from the Wild West.  I looked it up and the combined area of Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens is just under 640 acres or about 1 square mile.  

It has just about everything you can think of for a park: lakes for rowing, paths for bikes, paths for people, paths for horses, rose gardens, flower meadows, trees, ducks, statues, monuments, fountains, etc.  The Children's playground looks particularly impressive and I do wish that one of you lived here so I could borrow an appropriately aged child for the afternoon and "supervise" them on the pirate ship.

Queen Victoria's memorial to Albert is also very impressive but I think they frown upon people playing on it.  It is right across the street from Royal Albert Hall where A, N and I all agreed we really need to go to a concert.  Maybe we'll go to the Proms this summer.  We do need to go back to the Park to see the Rose Garden in bloom and tour Kensington Palace when it reopens later this month.  So much to see!  We are going to try to do or see something every two weeks (fortnightly if you are English...they actually still say that here) which is touristy or interesting.  I think it is a great goal and I don't think we can possibly run out of things.

Albert Memorial

Royal Albert Hall

I have to admit that our 5 mile walk has tired me right out!  All that fresh air, and perhaps a few too many pints watching the rugby yesterday (Go Wales!), have got me thinking a pre-dinner nap is in order!

London 2012

Something about shopping with the girls is universal.  Yesterday I met up with a couple of girls from work for a bit of shopping at a mall.  A mall the size of West Edmonton Mall but no repeat stores (http://uk.westfield.com/stratfordcity/).  They do have them here (malls) but they tend to be way out in the suburbs.  With the exception of the absolutely cool new red Chuck Taylor's that I bought (aka Converse Runners), I would say that I actually prefer shopping on the high street.  I guess because it is different than at home.  Also because I am starting to realize that I really dislike giant crowds of people!

The best part of the trip was that the mall is next to Olympic Park!  There are a couple of viewing platforms in the mall and you can actually get a good view from the train coming into the station too.  I'm going to have to learn a few synonyms for big.  Everything here is big if you grew up in Saskatchewan but the Olympic Park sets a new standard for big. 

Most of London, myself included, are struggling to come to terms with just how we will deal with an extra million people a day trying to get around.  The transportation system here already operates at maximum capacity most of the time.  Any little hiccup causes widespread chaos in the system and once things begin to break down it doesn't matter if you are in a car or on a train.  Our Company actually has a separate committee that is charged with making sure we can still keep operating during the games.  It is a real concern that people won't be able to get to the office.  Our main office is well away from central London but the area it is in will be hosting the Canoeing events and many of the practice locations for various teams.  We do have an investment office in the City and that might be quite a challenge.  Generally, every Olympic visitor is likely going to pass through the financial district on their way to the Olympic Park.  Yikes.  My own tube station, Angel, is likely going to be impassable at certain points in the day.

Right now, I'm thinking that I should be able to get up to the office at Potters Bar in the morning (provided I leave early enough) but getting back home might be impossible later in the day.  So, I'll probably try to get down to our office in the City mid-day.  I'll finish up my day there and then probably just walk back to my flat...about 2 miles.  This will all be happening while we are trying to finalize 2nd Quarter earnings so there will be no option to just book holidays.  But I understand why people want to leave!

It will be interesting to see what happens!  Regardless, I've got all my Canadian gear ready to go and I am preparing to cheer as loud as possible.  I might even have to get a Canadian flag for my balcony. And, if any of you can get tickets you are welcome to come and sleep on my floor!

Westminster

Big. Very Big.  High.  Very High.  Those were my first thoughts as I walked into Westminster Cathedral but, as usual, first impressions of these sorts are a little hard to put into words.  Big and high don't really describe it at all.

My friends at Wikepedia tell me that the cathedral was built between 1245 and 1517 with the western towers added in the early 1700s.  Okay.  I really can't comprehend that amount of time in terms of how long ago that was and how long it took to complete.  I wonder what my brother, who manages big construction projects, would think about a 325 year project time line?  Makes my 2 year bathroom reno look pretty tame!

It is a who's who of tombs and graves.  Although, you have to look close because some have fine print noting where the person is actually buried...as in not in Westminster.  Early tourism?  I started looking a little closer when I "saw" Shakespeare's grave marker.  Which would have been cool if I hadn't already stood in another church, in Stratford-upon-Avon, and looked at a grave marker for Mr. Shakespeare!  I was rather surprised to see Chaucer's tomb...especially since that first thing that flew into my mind was the Wife of Bath's tale which, according to my high school English teacher, was pretty racy stuff for the time.  Maybe the church was more liberal back in the day.

Having spend the previous day trolling through the Tower of London (I will never tire of the Crown Jewels), and just arriving from Buckingham Palace (arriving for the changing of the Guards...by accident!), it was interesting to see all the Royal burials.  M&M, my girlfriends in from Winnipeg for a little visit, and I wondered if the Queen might end up here in the end too.  Ignorant Colonials that we are, not one of us knew where a modern monarch might be buried these days?

We also agreed that it must have been terrifying for Catherine to walk down the aisle there just last year.  I wonder how she managed to look so calm and serene! 

Notes

Do you have your notes, then?

I have been singing as long as I can remember.  My Grandma used to sing with me all the time when I was little: while we did the dishes, in the car on trips, sitting around the kitchen table and especially while cleaning the house.  Anytime my Aunt Cindy was around she was roped into it too.  We sang endless rounds of My Eyes are Dim and My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean.

So, when someone mentioned the opportunity to join a women's choir here in London I thought -- why not?  I'm so glad I decided to go for it!  It is so much fun and very rewarding.  It's very different than any other choir I've ever been in.  First, we don't use written music -- everything is done by ear.  And, second, it is all pop music from Dusty Springfield (You Don't Own Me) to Lady Gaga (Poker Face).  The whole thing was just started up by a group of women who wanted to do it.  Two women share the arrangement/musical responsibilities and they are without a doubt two of the most talented musicians I have ever run across -- and I know a lot of talented musicians!  It might be pop music but some of the tougher stuff is incredibly complex musically and a real joy to learn.

Like all leisure activities in England, the rehearsals are generally followed by a session at the pub.  Here we get to learn a little bit more about each other.  We also talk about pressing choir issues like will people think that we are doing a cover of Sweet Dreams (Eurythmics) because we all secretly want to be Annie Lennox or will they think we are copying the guy on that reality TV show?  Or, did anyone realize that Poker Face could be adapted to the basic Psalm chord structure used in church?

It was at one of these sessions where I was asked "Do you have your notes, then?" which I greeted with a totally blank stare and a rather eloquent "Huh?"  After a bit of good natured back and forth, I learnt that this is how one asks if you can read music.  So, I guess I do have my notes.  And very lucky to have them too.

I'll let you know when the first concert is.

Tate

A cold misty Sunday in London today so I opted for an indoor pursuit...the Tate Modern.  There are four Tate museums in England: St Ives, Liverpool, British and Modern.  The Modern takes on everything art from 1900 onward.  So, you never really know what you might be walking into.  Which is the appeal.  You might see something iconic or you might see something completely bewildering. 

Today had a bit of both.  A very nice couple in Brooklyn have made a feature length film about the trash that blows around the street in their neighbourhood.  Literally close up footage of exciting things like rolls of toilet paper, empty coke cans, and a thrown out receipt from an Italian restaurant being blown around the gutters.  Maybe things really got exciting after the receipt but I will never know because I felt an intense need to move along. On the iconic side, a great exhibit of cubism featuring some great canvases by Braque and Picasso and a lovely foursome of Lipchitz machetes.  And then tucked into a corner all by themselves were these lovely paintings by Kandinsky & Mondrian.  I don't think I've ever seen anything by Mondrian except his line drawings before...so what a nice little discovery.

Kandinsky - Lake Starnberg 1908

Mondrian - Sun, Church in Zeeland 1909-10

Money saving art tip of the day: you don't need to fly all the way to England and go to the Tate to see a sculpture by Lipchitz.  If you are reading this Blog from Saskatchewan, there is one on the front lawn of the Mackenzie and you drive by it every day.  It is from later in his career so it is not part of his cubist works but it is no less lovely.  It's called Mother and Child II.  Impress all your friends by mentioning that he is from Lithuania but trained in Paris and was a contemporary of Picasso.  Boys, this is guaranteed date material.  You can thank me later.

Lipchitz - Mother and Child II 1946

I also overheard some people on the escalator discussing their "Pram Rage" which I thought was hilarious.  I can understand their issues with the people who insist on pushing around GIGANTIC prams in very busy, and rather small, art gallery spaces.  From my observation, the pram is normally empty because their little charmer would rather be running around under their own power. I have to check my backpack but they can bring in a small bus. I think my Aunt Cindy suffers from the North American equivalent which is "Stroller Rage" and normally occurs in shopping mall settings.

So, that is Sunday in London.  Not bad.

Plus, the milk I bought is from the Royal herd at Highgrove.  A shout out to Prince Charles as I'm sure he's out there every day twice a day for milking.  He looks like a hands on farmer.

Bruges

So, what do you know about Belgium?  Before this past weekend I probably would have gone with they make good beer and chocolate.  Those are both accurate statements but there is so much more to know and appreciate about the lovely country of Belgium.

A frozen canal in Bruges

Don't forget to look up!  Much more attractive than Winnipeg's Skywalk!

Bruges is a very pretty little medieval town built around a canal system.  I would basically describe it as what you think a medieval European town would look like...picture perfect little streets and lanes that meander back into each other or mysteriously go nowhere at all.  Oh yes, and several giant churches.  Nothing like commissioning a giant cathedral or two to really let the world know you have arrived!  I was particularly enamored of the coloured glass -- usually green but sometimes pink -- stained glass windows adorn many of the houses throughout the town centre.

I never really had much interest in history at school and I honestly can't remember ever learning anything about World War I.  There are the names of certain battles: Vimy Ridge, Passchendaele, Ypres.  But these are simply names of places that I wouldn't have been able to locate on a map (I probably wouldn't even have gotten the country right).  In the span of 4 years, half a million people, mostly boys in their late teens and early twenties, died in an area little more than 5 square miles.  To put that in perspective, it is an area about the size of my Uncle's farm in Saskatchewan.  The Germans were able to transport their dead back to Germany for burial.  The Allies had no such luxury as their soldiers were from all corners of the earth: from the Scottish Highlands to the islands of New Zealand.  So, the Allied dead are buried, more or less, where they fell in cemetery after cemetery after cemetery.  A large number of the dead were never accounted for as their bodies were quickly claimed by the sucking clay bog that the relentless shelling and endless rain of those years created.

Every Canadian child learns a little bit about Belgium going through school thanks to John McCrae's poem about Flanders' famous poppies. On Sunday I actually stood in front of the bunker where he wrote it. I don't mind telling you that, having just spent seven hours going from battlefield to cemetery to trench, I had a trouble fighting back a few tears.

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead, short days ago,

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved, and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields!

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands, we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields!

Cambridge

I shook off year end yesterday and went on a day trip up to Cambridge to see what the second oldest University in England (not to mention in the top 10 worldwide) looks like.  Cambridge was founded in 1209 by a group of academics displaced from Oxford.  Apparently, there was some difficulties in Oxford around that time -- there are mentions of hostile townsfolk -- and they had to close down the already established Oxford University for a couple of years.  Thus, some of the outcasts began Cambridge University.  So now you know. Exciting stuff for 1209 really.

The University and the city have been growing up around one another ever since so everything is all jumbled up in this lovely little place of about 100,000.  It is really quite charming. Most of the buildings date from about 500 or so years back...but not to worry the Victorians also left their mark too.  If you want to get a degree here it will take you about 3 years.  At the end of year three you take a comprehensive exam covering your entire degree.  So, three years of study and only the one set of exams.  No problem.

You will also need to apply to one of the 31 Colleges for admission.  These colleges (you've heard of at least three: Kings, Queens, and Trinity) are where you live for your three years but you can study at any faculty.  Your dorm room at your college could be built any time between the early 1500s and about 1950.  You will also eat at your college in the great hall...just like Harry Potter but presumably with fewer house elves.  All of this is very foreign to me but seems to make perfect sense to the Brits.  I like to think that the UofR would seem just as complex to them. Sure, they count the likes of Isaac Newton and Stephen Hawking as graduates, but the UofR has luminaries too.  I just can't think of one at this moment.

For all my bicycle enthuiast friends out there...Cambridge undergrads are not allowed to own a motor vehicle.  Just a bicycle.  There are bicycles absolutely everywhere!  There are even bicylce parks (a parking lot just for bicylces).  I have to say that I am a fan.  It's a very small town so there is very little vehicle traffic at all.  There stats suggest that 25% of people bike to work every day.  If you combine that with the general willingness to walk (anthing under 2 miles is completely acceptable for foot commuting here), there is very little motor vehicle traffic at all.  A very pleasing experience if you ask me!

On my way back to the station (only a 46 minute train journey from Kings Cross), I stopped at the Fitzwilliam Museum which was, frankly, pretty average.  But, just as I was desperately trying to find my way back to the main entrance (how I wish museums were more like IKEA some days...if only there were an arrow on the floor that would lead me back to the exit) I wandered around a corner and came face to face with a lovely Seurat painting.  If you ever want to impress your Mom, the painting that Cameron stares at in Ferris Bueller's Day Off is by Seurat and is called Sunday Afternoon on the Island of Grande Jatte.  A nice way to end the trip.

Well, honestly, I ended the trip with a Cornish Pasty standing on the platform at the train station.  It was excellent too.