Travel – Traveling

Leaving England

Leaving York this morning, I had a really nice talk with Al, one of the folks who runs the guesthouse where I was staying. He asked what it was that I liked about York. I thought for a bit, then said, “London is awesome. It has everything. But it’s kind of overwhelming – you know you’re never going to be able to see and do it all. Oxford is fantastic, full of cool history and architecture, but it’s all kind of one flavour – University. York has a little bit of everything, including stuff you can’t get anywhere else, but it’s a manageable size.” He liked that, and it kind of sums up how much I like York¹.

It was shortly after 9:00 that I caught the train in York up to Edinburgh. It was a nice ride, past some lovely scenery², especially after Newcastle, where the rails start to follow the coastline. I missed spotting Lindesfarne, which I was told to look for, but saw lots of other very cool stuff.

Also at Newcastle, a group of young people³ got on, heading to Edinburgh to celebrate a birthday by hitting some bars and music shows. One of them wound up sitting across from me, and was a very entertaining conversationalist, mainly talking about the difference between Canada and the US.

I had to race a bit at Edinburgh to catch the Glasgow train, but I managed to catch some glimpses of the city as the trains entered and left the station. It got me all excited for going back there on Monday.

By the time I got to Glasgow, it had cooled off a fair bit from the very nice morning weather, and had started to rain. While the Glasgow Station is very nice, it doesn’t offer enough amusement to fill the three hour wait I had there. But finally, I got on the three-hour, whistle-stop train to Oban.

The ride to Oban reminded me of my tour of Connemara in Ireland. Rugged hills, hidden lakes and inlets, very dramatic scenery. We stopped about every 15 minutes throughout the three-hour trip. On the bright side, I had been wondering if I should have bothered to bring the external battery to charge up my phone – today’s trip showed that it was, indeed, worthwhile.

I made it Oban around 7:45. Here's a quick picture looking across the bay towards part of the waterfront. — I made it Oban around 7:45. Here’s a quick picture looking across the bay towards part of the waterfront.

The walk to the Old Manse guesthouse was up some very steep hills. I was met partway by Simon, one of the owners, who told me that there was a less lethal way to get to the place, and I will be very glad of that tomorrow.

I kind of missed the food options by getting to Oban late – most non-pubs were closed, and the open ones, I am told, stop serving food at 9:00. I debated running out for something to eat, but decided I am more tired than hungry, and am making do with one of my emergency Clif bars for dinner.

The breakfast menu for tomorrow looks great, though.

A lot. [↩]
That I totally would have photographed if it hadn’t been going past at 80 mph behind a dirty train window. [↩]
Mid-30s. Young people get older every day, it seems. [↩]

Trembling Madness in York

Not a lot of pictures today. I spent about six hours checking out of the Oxford hotel, walking to the train station, waiting for a train, traveling to York, and walking to my guesthouse. Not a difficult day, but traveling definitely cuts into sightseeing time.

I also got away from Oxford about an hour later than I had planned – my computer stopped working, and it took me a while this morning to sort that out. I wanted to have the computer working so that I could watch a movie¹ the four-hour train trip.

After I got settled into my guesthouse, I went for a bit of a walk to a pub I had read about in the guesthouse. And I took a couple of pictures.

Walking down the street towards the city centre, you get to the walls of York, along with the gates through it. This gate is called Bootham Bar. There are stairs up to the top of the wall, so in the next couple of days, I'm going to go for a wall walk. — Walking down the street towards the city centre, you get to the walls of York, along with the gates through it. This gate is called Bootham Bar. There are stairs up to the top of the wall, so in the next couple of days, I’m going to go for a wall walk.

Through the gate and down a narrow street, you get to York Minster. It’s closed, now, but I’ll have a chance to see inside sometime in the next couple of days.

The pub I was looking for was called The House of Trembling Madness. Trembling madness is a reference to delirium tremens, the DTs. It’s through a Bottle Shop², and up a narrow, twisty flight of stairs.

The House of Trembling Madness dates from 1180, and was a medieval hall. The main sign of that is the beams in the ceiling. There are also lots of mounted heads, but I don't think they're 850 years old. Still, a very cool spot. And good burger. — The House of Trembling Madness dates from 1180, and was a medieval hall. The main sign of that is the beams in the ceiling. There are also lots of mounted heads, but I don’t think they’re 850 years old. Still, a very cool spot. And good burger.

Walking back, I came across this memorial to the Yorkshiremen who fought and died in the Second Boer War. It's right near York Minster, and it's a pretty impressive memorial. — Walking back, I came across this memorial to the Yorkshiremen who fought and died in the Second Boer War. It’s right near York Minster, and it’s a pretty impressive memorial.

And now, I’m back in my room, and going to read for the rest of the evening. Tomorrow, a sightseeing bus tour.

I watched Taken 3. It was so full of dumb, I can’t even begin to describe it. Even more than the first two. [↩]
A liquor store. [↩]

Welcome to Oxford

Left London this morning, taking the train up to Oxford. I’m glad I splurged for the first-class train pass; the seats are very nice, the tables are great, and there are power outlets everywhere. The trip to Oxford is under an hour, but the trip to York will be longer, and then York to Oban, Oban to Edinburgh, and Edinburgh back to London are quite long trips. The extra perks will really tell on those legs.

I got to Oxford around 12:30 PM – everything fell into place on the trip, with me getting to the tube just in time for the train to Paddington, and then got to Paddington just in time for the train to Oxford. That was nice, but it meant that, by the time I walked to the hotel on Broad Street, I was starving, as I hadn’t eaten yet.

After checking in, I unloaded my bags in my room, and went for a wander to find some lunch. Hunger being what it was, I didn’t look too far before stumbling upon a Burger King. Not a traditional English meal, but man, it was just what I needed then.

Then I took a stroll around the shopping district, just looking at stuff. At around 5:00 PM, I went back to my room to rest and read before the Ghost Walk tour. About a half-hour before the tour, I walked across the street to the start point.

This is Broad Street, where I'm staying. You can see the rounded front of the Sheldonian Theatre, and the buildings seem to glow int he setting sun. It's very pretty. — This is Broad Street, where I’m staying. You can see the rounded front of the Sheldonian Theatre, and the buildings seem to glow int he setting sun. It’s very pretty.

Just behind where I'm standing in the previous picture is Trinity College. This is a peak at the grounds through the locked gate. — Just behind where I’m standing in the previous picture is Trinity College. This is a peak at the grounds through the locked gate.

There were only four of us on the Ghost Walk tour¹, which is the minimum number for the walk to run. It started raining part way through², so I didn’t get a lot of pictures.

This is the site where the Oxford Martyrs - Bishops Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley, along with Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer - were burned at the stake. This was at the order of Bloody Mary, Queen after Henry VIII, who went a little nutso about returning England to Catholicism. — This is the site where the Oxford Martyrs – Bishops Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley, along with Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer – were burned at the stake. This was at the order of Bloody Mary, Queen after Henry VIII, who went a little nutso about returning England to Catholicism.

The Bridge of Sighs is much more recent than the surrounding buildings - completed in 1914. It had nothing to do with the Ghost Walk, but it is a cool and recognizable city landmark. — The Bridge of Sighs is much more recent than the surrounding buildings – completed in 1914. It had nothing to do with the Ghost Walk, but it is a cool and recognizable city landmark.

Tom, our guide, was a great storyteller, and told some interesting stories. One that surprised me was the tale of the St. Scholastica Day riots – where the townies and the students went to war against each other, resulting in 30 dead townspeople and 63 dead students.

My favourite story, though, is about Cuthbert Shields. Now, I can find no record of this tale on the Internet, but that’s why I go on these trips, right? To hear the weird history that doesn’t get reported elsewhere.

Anyway, Shields was an historian at Corpus Christi College. He had previously been known as Robert Laing, but changed his name after his behaviour³ landed him in an asylum, and then forced him to spend many years traveling the world. He came back to Oxford around 1888 or so, and stayed there until he died in 1908.

He left behind a strange bequest to the college: a sealed silver box with a ribbon tied around it, and instructions that it not be opened until 50 years after his death. The college honoured his wishes and, in 1958, the librarian, assistant librarian, and warden of the college opened the box.

Inside were scores of Nostradamus-like predictions, carefully arranged and written, chronicling the years since his death.

They were all dead wrong.

The story goes that the Shields’s ghost attended the opening and seemed very disappointed.

Anyway, that’s my first glimpse of Oxford. Another walking tour tomorrow, where I’ll get to see more of the colleges and stuff.

Now, to bed. Good night, all!

Five, counting the guide, Tom. [↩]
Of course. [↩]
Unspecified by Tom, but apparently spelled out in his five-volume autobiography. [↩]

Tubes!

So, the plane last night didn’t take off until almost two hours late. We made up some time in flight, though, and landed only about an hour late. I had managed to sleep through most of the trip – about five and a half hours. Because I was able to sleep, but not for as long as I wanted, I’m tired today, but not exhausted.

I took full advantage the British Air arrivals lounge¹ for their showers and free breakfast. I also got a sim card and set up my phone on the 3 network, and bought an Oyster Card for using the Underground.

I’m really glad I took the tube to my hotel. It was long, and somewhat confusing, and tiring hauling my stuff around, but it really brought home the fact that I’m in a different city, in a different country, in a way that I think the faster trains or a cab wouldn’t have. It also showed me that, intimidating though the tube looks to a barbarian like me, it’s really not that difficult to navigate.

I made it to Liverpool Street, my first destination, because there’s a Lush shop there. I picked up my special soap and cream, and then found a pharmacy, where I bought some toiletries, ibuprofen, and travel sickness pills². I also got my first chance to stick my head into the actual outside in London. I snapped a couple of pictures, but the photo software on this computer isn’t working right. I’m still going to post them, but once I get things straightened out, I’ll probably come back and update them.

**Edit** I got my picture editor working on my computer, so I have updated the pictures.

So, this is a look at the London skyline from within London. It's taken just outside of Liverpool Street, which is a train and underground station. Also, a mall. You can just see the tip of the Gherkin peeking over the older building in the foreground. — So, this is a look at the London skyline from within London. It’s taken just outside of Liverpool Street, which is a train and underground station. Also, a mall. You can just see the tip of the Gherkin peeking over the older building in the foreground.

This statue is out one of the Liverpool Street Station entries. It's called the Kindertransport Memorial, and shows children being shipped away from London during the second World War. — This statue is out one of the Liverpool Street Station entries. It’s called the Kindertransport Memorial, and shows children being shipped away from London during the second World War.

Then, it was back on the tube, out to Barking. From the Barking station, I walked to my hotel, navigating via Apple Maps on my phone³. I wound up in the parking lot of a huge Tesco superstore, and decided to give up but, after buying and drinking a very lovely bottle of Fanta⁴, I was refreshed and found where I had gone wrong reading the map.

So, I made it to my hotel around 5:00, and right at the desk they had a deal for pizza and coke, which I ordered and ate. Now, I’m going to rest up for tomorrow, watch a movie or something, and try to stay awake until 10:00 or so, so that I don’t wake up too early.

I made it!

Okay. I knew Heathrow was very, very big, but they have a high-speed transit train to move people from the arrival gates to the actual Arrivals area within the same terminal. That’s big. [↩]
I found in Ireland that some of the tours – especially the rural ones – made me a little nauseous. Not gonna give in to that. [↩]
This is why I get the new sim card first thing. [↩]
For North American readers: Fanta in Europe is awesome. No, really. For European readers: Fanta in North America is made of fail and sadness. No, really. [↩]

Half-Way Point

It’s not really the half-way point. But it’s about half-way through my travel-to-London day.

Had a couple of weird moments on the flight here. The guy I sat beside looked like he resented the fact that I was taking the empty seat beside him. Now, I get that – you can get your hopes up about having an empty seat beside you. But the scowl he gave me was… unwelcoming. Then, half-way through the flight, I started coughing. Part of it was the nuts I was eating¹, part of it was the fact I’m just over a cold, and part of it was my allergies acting up in the dry airplane air. Anyway, the guy kept frowning over at me, as I struggled to drink some water and get it under control.

And then, about fifteen minutes later, he turns around in his seat and says to the guy behind him, “Stop hitting it! Just stop hitting it! It’s very distracting!” I thought the guy might have been kicking my buddy’s seat, and so I started cutting him some slack – that would be really irritating, and would make me grumpy, too.

Things calmed down then but, as we were standing up getting ready to exit the plane, my buddy pushed in front of me ((I was waiting for the aisle behind me to clear enough that I could go get my bags out of the overhead storage a couple of rows back.)) and started berating the guy seated behind him. There followed a typical angry Canadian confrontation, where both people were trying to be the most reasonable while still being angry.

Turns out that the guy beside me was complaining that the guy behind him had been tapping the touch screen on the entertainment screen too hard.

But the guys started trying to out-rank each other based on how far and how often they traveled, but escalated when the guy behind us said, “You’re from Toronto? Well, that explains everything.”²

Now, I’m sort of the third point in the triangle these two goofs are making, and I see all the other folks standing nearby watching avidly. Fortunately, it didn’t escalate any further, but one of the spectators caught up with me on the jetway and said that his money was on the first punch thrown taking me out by accident. I laughed and told him I had an escape route planned, through the galley and into the bathroom.

Then, because I wasn’t getting enough stress, I came through security here at Toronto to find that the cap of my nice pen and the small notebook it was attached to were no longer in my breast pocket after I had reloaded everything from the security routine. The pen itself was there, but the main thing I was concerned about was the notebook – it contained all the addresses, e-mail addresses, phone numbers, bus numbers, tube routes, and train information for my trip. Most of it is up on the itinerary, but I always carry a pocket-sized hard copy on trips because you can’t always guarantee connectivity.

So, after getting a security supervisor to go back through the security line to help me look I, genius that I am, stuck my hand in my pants pocket and found both the pen cap and the notebook.

That story is for all my friends who like to hear stories about how I make an ass of myself. Enjoy.

After security, I made my way up to the British Airways business class lounge. And then left it about ten minutes later, because Elliot got in touch with me via Facebook to say he was not too far away from me, so I went to spend a half-hour or so with him.

That was nice, because I’m missing his homecoming to Winnipeg.

And then it was back to the lounge to read and have a nice dinner. Now, my plane should start boarding right away, so I’m signing off.

Salty bits of nut stuck in the back of my throat. Are you reading this, Chris? [↩]
For non-Canadians – and for some Torontonians – much of the rest of Canada view Torontonians as self-centred and arrogant. Me, I know self-centred and arrogant people from all over, so I don’t judge. But this might help explain things. [↩]