Below is an account of my travels and it is just that, an account.  There are areas that have had some revision and there are areas that are just words let loose.  The documentation’s purpose is three fold: one- a recount of my travels, two- a log keeping my family and friends aware of my adventures and three- a record that might eventually (hopefully) develop into a collection or a series of articles.  I hope you enjoy- Lara

January 2008- I am back in Dallas and I’m currently adding/filling in the gaps; hoping for a more ‘complete’ account in the next month. Best to start at the beginning as October and early November was spent traveling with very little computer time allotted. 

Thursday, November 1^st     

Minehead (drove along seafront b4 heading out of town.  Proper seaside town with homes and accommodations perched on the hillside) to St. Ives along very narrow roads.  100 miles took 4 hrs!  Very tiring, sometimes going 15 mph up steep single track lanes hoping you wouldn’t meet another vehicle.  3 close calls where others came careering around bends too fast.  Landscape changed dramatically from Somerset to Devon to Cornwall.  Would love to see moors when the heather is in bloom, gorse still hanging on in patches.  Cornwall’s microclimates allow Mediterranean plantings, eucalyptus abounds.  Also saw Agapanthus blooming in November!  St. Ives bustling although season has passed.  Late lunch at Seafood.  Toured Barbara Hepworth’s house, studio and gardens.  Up narrow streets to a rather non descript home perched on a hillside amongst other similar.  Garden had glimpses of sea but no direct views.  Sculpture set amongst plantings, either off setting each other.  Walked thru town quickly b4 heading to St. Austell in preparation for the Eden Project tomorrow.  Staying at a Premier Travel Inn.  Dessert and coffee for dinner.  Fall color has peaked with sumacs really the only trees bearing rich coloring.

Wednesday, October 31^st     

Builth Wells to Hay-on-Wye (glass, fudgery, wool shop closed), briefly crossed over to England here, then to Brecon (drove thru town down by canal) Steam Railroad at Merthry Tydfil (short train ride, took in Pen-twyn Reservoir).  Crossed over into England on Severn Bridge, tried to get accommodations in Bridgwater then Williton and finally in Minehead.  Saw plenty of different types of sheep and also Welsh Black Cattle.  Saw a fabulous Monkey Puzzle tree in Brecon- still amazed at how they can grow here.  A lot of driving today and a bit tiring.  Weather was overcast, chilly and damp.  Stayed a B&B run by a couple from Portsmouth.  4 star so really nice.  Would highly recommend.

Tuesday, October 30^th    

Early start with clocks changing.  To Buy or Not To Buy filming at out hotel.  Walked around Shrewsbury: charity shops, lovely white and blacks, Castle.  Seemed as though you entered another land as you drove into Wales, landscape turned from mostly flat to rolling hills.  from Welshpool, stopped in Welshpool for Information Center.   to Builth Wells.  Walked thru small high street and around city centre.  Staying at another Lion Inn.  Wrote a bit.

Monday, October 29^th    

Stoke-upon- Trent: Royal Doulton Factory, Royal Doulton Clearance, Churchill, Wedgewood, Portmerion, Anysley.  Drove to Shrewsbury, stayed at Lion Hotel- 16^th century coaching inn frequented by Charles Darwin & Charles Dickens.  Benjamin Disraeli also was a guest.  Dinner at Sam Hayward Restaurant.

Sunday, October 28^th    

Lunch with John’s brothers Richard and Charles and Charles’ family.  Off to Hardwick Hall.  HH was odd- stonework angular and peculiar shaped, not classical.  Intro done well by lady dressed as Bess’ lady in waiting. 

Cooked dinner then suffered from a terrible migraine! 

Saturday, October 27^th    

Drove around Derbyshire, Peak District National Park, lunch at The George in Alstonefield. Wirksworth, Brassington, Bradbourne, Tissington, Ilam, drove past Chatsworth, Chesterfield crooked spire.  Out to Tonic in Derby to meet John’s friends.  Clocks fell back.

Friday, October 26^th    

Lazy start, Royal Crown Derby, dinner at Darleys

Thursday, October 25^th    

Spent day with Samantha, night at John’s

Wednesday, October 24^th    

Nice breakfast at Villier’s Hotel before setting off a few miles to Stowe House and Landscape Gardens.  We had planned on joining the 11am tour but unfortunately it was cancelled and the next one was at 2pm, the same time as the house tour.  Mum and I strolled through the gardens purposefully, mainly due to the chill in the air, armed with a garden plan.  Stowe is renowned for its monuments and we were not disappointed by the amount, though perhaps unimpressed by the state of a few.     

Tuesday, October 23^rd     

I found the car covered with ¼” of ice this morning. After an hour drive we arrived at Blenheim Palace, no small roads to travel down and there were plenty of signs directing us to our destination.      

Monday, October 22^nd     

Mum and I had planned on seeing Stowe today but I made a mistake.  Listed on the National Trust website were the dates of 1 March- 4 November but I did not note that the gardens were closed on Monday and Tuesday.  We arrived, I saw the sign and was quite surprised- lesson learned.  Knowing Blenheim Palace would take an entire day I thought Hidcote would be a good alternative.  Second lesson for the day was learnt whilst navigating: be sure to check the names of towns especially if they sound similar.  I should have been heading to Chipping Camden except I drove to Chipping Norton.  Hidcote is out in the countryside away from any villages/towns so be sure to get good directions when you visit.

Before touring the garden we had lunch, Tomato & Lentil soup for me and Mackerel pate for Mum.  Service was slow but the view out into the garden was pleasant. 

The gardens were designed by a plant’s man and not a trained designer which at first is not problematic but as the gardens grow out from the house they get more and more unstructured.        

Sunday, October 21^st    

Touring Henry Moore’s home and studios at Hoglands is by appointment only.  The downfall is of course you need to plan in advance but for the enjoyment of the site it is great!  We arrived soon after 11am , the opening time, and   

Saturday, October 20^th    

Today is my 34^th birthday!  But the most exciting part of the day is that Mum is arriving from Dallas.  John left for London to attend a Sea Scamp yearly planning mtg an hour before me- I had hoped we would be able to get a train part the way together.  My train to Gatwick was direct and arrived at 10:07am, 7 minutes after Mum’s expected arrival time.  I dumped my belongings onto a cart and took the terminal link train from the South to the North.  The monitor informed me that the plane had landed but the luggage had not made it to baggage claim.

Sissinghurst is how I remembered.

Friday, October 19^th    

Before I had left for Paris I had done most of my laundry so I only had the items I had worn there and towels to wash. 

Thursday, October 18^th    

Late start, beautiful pain du chocolate at patisserie not far from the hotel.  On our last day of course!  Strolled down to Lourve to explore the outside.  It is a massive building with so much to see.  The detailing is exquisite.  So much to see. 

 Wednesday, October 17^th    

I spent a wonderful day in Windsor with Rob and his Mom.  Well, after a rocky start and before a frustrating end to my travels with the British rail system.  Portsmouth to Windsor is 70 miles, not far at all.  Yet in order to get there I had to change at Southampton

Tuesday, October 16^th    

Notre Dame was first on our list.  A stunning bit of architecture.  It was full of people but not crowded per se.  The stain glass windows were fantastic but I was most fascinated by the painted columns.  I found them reminiscent of William Morris designs.  We were going to go up on the roof but the line was long and we had so much more to see.  We lunched at a square by ?, tried to get in but again the queue was long.  Walked along the Seine, side walk shopping.  John bought me a lovely sepia watercolor of the Eiffel tower.  WE hopped on the underground to the Eiffel Tower.  We didn’t have to stand in line long and we took the elevator up to the second viewing area for a coffee

Monday, October 15^th    

Met John at Waterloo- he was waiting for me as my train pulled in.  Got tickets and checked in, had lunch as we were told food car on train expensive and not worth it.  Journey went by quickly and time in chunnel short- 45 mins.  At Gare North we took metro two stops to our hotel.  Initially we got turned around and headed away from it but re oriented ourselves in due time.  We dropped our bags off and walked about.    

Sunday, October 14^th    

I spent a wonderful day in Windsor with Rob and his Mom.  Well, after a rocky start and before a frustrating end to my travels with the British rail system.  Portsmouth to Windsor is 70 miles, not far at all.  Yet in order to get there I had to change at Southampton

Saturday, October 13^th    

I spent a wonderful day in Windsor with Rob and his Mom.  Well, after a rocky start and before a frustrating end to my travels with the British rail system.  Portsmouth to Windsor is 70 miles, not far at all.  Yet in order to get there I had to change at Southampton

Friday, October 12^th    

I spent a wonderful day in Windsor with Rob and his Mom.  Well, after a rocky start and before a frustrating end to my travels with the British rail system.  Portsmouth to Windsor is 70 miles, not far at all.  Yet in order to get there I had to change at Southampton Central, Reading, and Slough before arriving at my final destination.  With three changes, . . .

Thursday, October 11^th    

Finally got Gazza to call me back- told Dean and the problem was solved!  Gaz and I met at the Gunwharf and had coffee at Starbuck’s.  Not my choice.  We caught up, his news new job and mine about John.  It seems absolute ages since we have spoken!  He starts his new job at the Retail Trust on October 22^nd. 

Wednesday, October 10^th    

It is now 9:38pm and I have been typing since 10am!  I am tired and wish I had made notes on the sailing trip rather than trying to rely on my memory.  What was I thinking? 

Tuesday, October 9^th    

I had planned on writing all day but I got a call from the Language school before 9:30 asking if I could teach 2 students this morning since a teacher had called in sick.  2 students?  Sure!  I don’t know how I did it but I made to the school just after 10am, everything seemed to fall into place.  The two students, 18 yr old Saudi Arabians, were easy to ‘teach’.  Susan, the director’s daughter, had started them in on some assignments so I just took over from where she began.  The unit covered living rooms and kitchens and an unusual 727 house. 

Monday, October 8^th    

What a wonderful sleep I had last night!  I awoke early, 7:30am, feeling refreshed- yea.  The morning was spent catching up on emails and generally quite lazy but after lunch I ventured out to Asda for food and a double USB cord.  Food yes, USB no however I purchased an adaptor that I thought would do the trick.  Wrong.  Ugh!  I just want wireless!!! 

This afternoon I have downloaded pics and started to type up my notes from Crete, sailing and Derbyshire.  Lots of typing.

Sunday, October 7^th    

John and I had to depart for Heathrow just after 9am to ensure we would have enough time to be there by noon at the latest.  Traffic was unusually light or so John said and we made exceptional time arriving before 11:30am.  After he checked in for his flight to Seattle we lunched at a restaurant by the check in counters.  The food was adequate but far from fine cuisine as all the ‘good’ eateries are thru security. 

I left John in the security line before 2pm and took the train to Terminal 2 for the Heathrow Bus Station.  After purchasing my ticket I sat and read for a while.  People watching occasionally as well; 100’s of people must have passed thru the station as I waited.  Since it was Dad’s birthday I called home.  Well, I call then they call me back so I don’t incur fees on my mobile.  I should note that I had to plug my phone into an electrical socket at the station, thanks to the forward thinkers who placed a few scattered around!  The conversation was frequently interrupted by messages over the loud speakers.

The coach trip was uneventful and quick.  We pulled out of Heathrow at 4:30pm and made it to the Hard at 6:30.  I then had a short wait for a bus to drop me off by Lidl’s on Goldsmith Avenue for a short walk to the house arriving at 7pm.  Tired I ate a bowl of cereal, had a cup of tea and watched some telly.  The remainder of the evening consisted of unpacking and reading before an early night.

Saturday, October 6^th    

We made no attempt to get up early or rush off; it was overcast outside and the house was warm.  We finally made a move nearing lunch time and drove off to a pub, The Chequers Inn for Lentil & Bacon Soup and warm bread.  The drive was beautiful; fall was well on its way in with vibrant reds, oranges and yellows.  The Maples were the most spectacular but every so once in awhile a shocking yellow Linden popped out.  Classical music played in the background, a perfect accompaniment to the scenery. 

After lunch we drove further into the Peak District National Forest thru quaint villages choked full of stone cottages embedded into hillsides or peering over rivers.  Then out into the open countryside surrounded by moors and hills, a rock climber’s delight.  We pulled off at one of the many car parks dotting the peaks to walk a trail leading up to a crag overlooking the Derbyshire landscape.  Spent Heather covered the peat and sheep grazed in amongst it.  A few lone lambs perched on rocks hoping to soak up a few rays of sun?  Across from where we stood, across a small valley were groups of youngsters’ rock climbing.  Each separate group was identifiable by their colored climbing caps. 

From here we drove thru the Chatsworth parkland stopping off at a few villages still owned by the estate, denoted by woodwork painted an indescribable color of blue.  I took a few shots and if you look closely you can see pheasants in the bottom right hand corner.  It was a moment when I needed my telephoto lens!  Even though I had traveled this way on Friday, the light was much different and the colors seemed more intense.  We passed some climbing areas where John climbs.  I comment that I might like to try that, not sure I really have the upper body strength: last year when the interns and I went to the indoor climbing tower in Addison I found my arms to suffer the most.

Heading back to Derby we stopped at Sainsbury’s in Matlock to get food for dinner.  I had hoped to cook my Black Bean Dish but no black beans were to be found.  Instead I decided on grated carrot and zucchini over a brown rice risotto with lamb chops; strawberries for dessert.  Wine was chosen along with Asti to pair with the strawberries. 

John finished up some correspondence while I cooked.  One should always poke around a kitchen before deciding on a menu however I managed quite well.  Two of the chops were a bit overcooked but all in all it was a delectable meal.  I did have one disaster though; I had stuck the strawberries in the fridge to chill while we ate the main course and when I opened the door one glass shattered on the floor.  Oh well.

Friday, October 5^th    

The alarm went off too early!   I had not slept well and was not ready to face the day however Chatsworth was awaiting and I wanted to see as much as I could.  John had suggested getting the bus that ran up from his house into Matlock instead of going into the center of Derby to the train station.  Had not my phone nearly died I would have made it to Chatsworth mid morning but due to having to recharge it I missed the early bus (which I found out when I read the bus schedule posted at the stop).  I walked down the road as far as I could confident that I was still on the bus route which I was.  The bus driver was so helpful and sorted out the cheapest fare for all my travels, a Wayfarer ticket for £4.15 that allowed me to travel throughout Derbyshire all day.  Derby to Duffield to Belper to Matlock it toured.  I sat transfixed on the countryside that was showing all signs of fall.  In Matlock I had to change buses which involved walking from the new bus station to the old via a bridge dividing the old city from the new overgrowth.

The bus deposited me directly to Chatsworth House’s gates up a long drive that cut thru the moorland of the estate.  From the road the house was seen prominently in places and then lost behind bosques of trees.  The landscape looks natural however it was sculpted by Capability Brown in 17?? When he first redirected the course of the river and planted tree drifts.  Sheep roam freely.

Given my time constraints, it was 12:30 when I finally arrived, I opted to visit the garden first and if time allowed then I would purchase a ticket for the house.  I quickly ate a sausage roll bought onsite before trekking through the gardens.  My first view entering was that of a long allee terminating at an enormous urn on a pedestal far in the distance.  The Orangery had been converted into a Gift Shop and to my left was a palladium structure and further beyond a long narrow greenhouse.  Way too many school children congregated in the open space enclosed by these features.  I walked upwards towards a series of greenhouses; the first was aptly named the Vinery as it contained grapes.  A rather contemporary glass structure named the Greenhouse was placed in a clearing and posted that if you wished to enter then special arrangements must be made and an additional fee would be requested.  I found this odd.

The progression of the garden was not evident in this section so for a time I walked up and down along the top portion.  Hidden behind the Glasshouse was a stone wall with busts on pedestals lining it.  I am not sure of their importance.  Down the steps I turned into an opening in the wall . . .

Thursday, October 4^th      

I had made up my mind that I was going to Derby even . . .

Wednesday, October 3^rd      

Laundry, laundry and more laundry! 

Tuesday, October 2^nd       

I slept in a bit this morning.  It was overcast and my bed was warm.  My body ached.  A hot shower revived me.  I spent the morning checking my email and trying to plan for the next few weeks. 

Monday, October 1^st       

I was tired and not really in the mood to get up, but I had to as I was to teach today.  I waited around for a bus that never showed so I walked the path till one did appear- all in the rain.  I arrived a little late but no one seemed to notice.  There weren’t any records detailing what had been taught in the past but luckily the regular teacher had popped in and vaguely gave me some help. 

The students were mostly good speakers and very attentive.  By their behavior it was evident they wanted to be there.  There was a female Turkish Doctor, a male Spanish Importer, a female Iranian Financial Assistant and three other university students from France and Iran.  The morning flew by quickly as did the afternoon. 

I took a bus home, stopping at Lidl’s for some groceries.  I will have to remember not to go at this time as it gets very busy.  At the house I cooked and then relaxed.  Boy was I tired! 

Sunday, September 30^th        

At 6:30am I awoke to the clattering of cups and movement, specifically Roger ascending the ladder onto the deck.  I looked over to John who had wiggled himself out of his berth and was getting dressed.  Nick was making tea.  6:30am!  I didn’t feel that bad for only getting 3 hrs of sleep.  Somehow I mustered the energy to get out of the berth as well.  Then off I went to the Marina facilities.  The sun was rising but we seemed to be the only boat concerned about the tides.  There wasn’t anyone else about and hardly any activity at the seaside businesses.  After cleaning up and brushing my teeth I captured a few shots of the sleepy seafront. 

John and I headed back to the house to clean up before meeting his nephew, Jon, for dinner.  We picked him up at the Town Station since he had been out with friends in the area.  I suggested Gunwharf since there would be a ton of restaurants open.  Our first choice had a 40 minute wait but the second seated us immediately.  Time was of the essence since Jon had to be back on base before 8pm; he is in basic training as a Royal Marine. 

The menu was inventive and I ordered crab cakes with spicy black beans.  Also a guacamole dip for starters.  I had forgotten how much an 18 yr old could consume: Jon ate all his meal and half of my beans which I had made each of then try.  I sat back letting John and Jon chat interjecting when appropriate.  Will I have a relationship like this with Mason when he is 18?  I will be John’s age then. 

We dropped Jon off at the Unicorn Gate of HMS Nelson in plenty of time.  I was much relieved that we were able to have such a nice meal and get him home in such a short amount of time.  Back at the house, John and I had a coffee while we debated the insanity of him driving 3 hours back to Derby after a weekend sailing trip and only 3 hours of sleep the night before.  He decided I might be right.

Saturday, September 29^th      

I managed to sleep!  I am really surprised and thought I would lay awake for hours but fortunately I didn’t. 

Friday, September 28^th      

I awoke to the sound of children again.    

I went to leave but Rob and Dean wouldn’t let me walk to the station in the rain.  Dean drove me which I appreciated and even offered to pick me up on Sunday on my return if needed.  John hopefully was going to drop me off.  Amazingly the train wasn’t late and I arrived in Bursledon on time.  John was waiting for me which I was grateful of since I had no idea where the boat yard was from the station.  He had been instructed to get breakfast foods so we drove his car down to the yard instead of leaving the car at the station and walking as the others had done.  Well, we took the scenic route a few times over before actually finding it =) 

Down a very steep narrow road the car went, one I wouldn’t have tried in my Z4 or any vehicle of much length.  The boat yard was quiet.  Across several platforms and even a moveable bridge we carried our belongings and the grocery bags.  The moveable bridge can now be added to my many modes of transport.  It is a platform that moves by pulling on a rope bringing it towards a stationary platform.  This rope spends most of its time covered in ever so clean sea water and is quite disgusting.  Once on you release the rope and a weight propels the platform across the narrow gap.  On the boat we dropped our bags, put the food away, and John gave me a tour which included the finer points of the heads.  Always useful. 

Back across we walked to the Jolly Sailor Pub to meet up with the rest of the crew.  We weren’t the last but most had already arrived.

Thursday, September 27^th      

I awoke to the sound of children. 

Wednesday, September 26^th      

My last day!  Off to the beach I headed . . .

Tuesday, September 25^th      

I thought I might travel island to the Amari Valley but I changed my mind when brilliant sunshine baked my room.  Sun at last!  Sun at last!  To the beach I went.  I found a front row lounger, the last by Mousses.  They really do have a prime location and the best loungers as well.  They are new- different from the ones in June.  And no I do not have a crush one of the staff.  It must be noted that the annoying mad Greek man who screamed and laughed loudly all day every day on my first trip is no where to be seen nor heard.  Besides the odd German word or child squeal all I heard was the sound of the surf.  Heavenly.  I read, I sunned, I swam.  Ah, heaven. 

Before I knew it the pangs of hunger alerted me that it was late, almost 2pm.  I stopped in for a nectarine b/4 going back up to my room where I had yoghurt and some fab Greek cookies.  My upstairs neighbors’ were out on the terrace, their daughter in the pool.  Because I love the beach so much I cannot fathom going to a seaside resort and not going to the beach.  I can understand maybe visiting the pool late in the day but it quite apparent that they have been there all day.  I ate my lunch inside not wanting to impose upon them even though I had as much right as them.

I slathered on 25spf all over my body with 40 on my face.  Sufficiently sunned out I climbed up to the Sea View Taverna beyond the port.  Set high above the sea away from the main areas, I am surprised it stays in business but pleased it has since I like its seclusion and quietness.  I ordered a coke and set about completing my book ‘Dry Rot and Daffodils’.  An easy read; I found it interesting since it chronicles the lives of a National Trust Manager and his wife.  I also wrote- lots! 

Late afternoon I climbed further up then down onto the last beach then up to a plateau that visually marks the extent of Bali.  I felt a sense of accomplishment, not exactly sure why but . . .  I think this would be an ideal location to see the stars at night though it might be a tricky climb.  Having done it I did not hang about long, retracing my steps along the beach, up the Cliffside then down past Sea View, around the higgly piggly streets descending into the port. 

I stopped to chat to Andreas to finalize the evening’s plans before traversing the path back to the hotel with many stops.  Instead of taking the road around the second bend I walked down the steep side street to the beach below Taverna Psouradoula and then up another steep side street back onto the main road, turning right into the internet café.  After a short stop, I walked the main road till the steps down to the main beach appeared.  Taking these, I followed them to the beach.  At the beach I walked the edge a few times.  The crowds had started to thin but a few stragglers remained.  Then I hit the hotel for a shower.

I ran the shower for 20 minutes and no hot water.  I waited then again for 14 minutes.  I am not a fan of cold water and certainly not cold showers but I had to get clean.  It was an experience I do not wish to repeat.

Andreas picked me up looking decidedly unkempt.  He had given me the impression that we were going somewhere nice so I had dressed up a bit.  Cute top, heels, makeup.  He looked like he had just stepped off a boat and I don’t mean this in a good way.  We ate at Taverna Psouradoula again.  It was okay just not what I was expecting.  And I soon found out why.  30 something Greek men like to gamble and this taverna has a wide screen and internet access providing live coverage of the matches Andreas and his pals had placed bets on.  Boy did I feel like I should have been somewhere else.  I tried to leave early but they would have none of that and for a while conversed only to be drawn back into the statistics.  I was glad when the game ended and Andreas dropped me off at my room.   

Monday, September 24^th      

I was in no rush to get up this morning.  The sun was shining which was a vast improvement over the last few cloudy days.  After breakfast I dressed for the beach hopeful that the weather would hold.  As I was about to set off Andreas texted me that it too windy so his boat trip was canceled and would I like to go to Arkadi.  Another day out.

After a short stop in Rethmynon we drove into the hillsides to Arkadi and most importantly Arkadi Monastery.  The Moni is significant in Kreta history as it is the site of a holocaust in 1866.  The holocaust occurred when the besieged Kretans, unwilling to surrender and face the torture of the Turks, blew up a gun powder storeroom, killing themselves and most of the enemy.  The currents buildings were restored/rebuilt fours years later.

The main church is center stage within the courtyard of surrounding structures.  All joined together yet made of various materials and building styles.  Story aside, there is something captivating about this place.  It pulls you in- I wanted to inspect every nook and cranny.  See what was at the end of the arched loggia; investigate each icon decorating the walls.  Two monks still inhabit the monastery but it must take a small staff to keep it looking as cheerful and friendly as it does.  In bloom are geraniums, bright fuchsia Celosia (some growing out of stone crevices), African daisies and lots of bougainvillea. Grapes hang from the vine covering a wooden arbor that nearly spans the width of the space. 

There is also a wonderful little museum containing artifacts of the holocaust and other important items of the moni’s past. Today the overflow parking was empty and I won’t say it was warm b/c at this elevation it was indeed chilly.  A good ‘cold day’ excursion.  Another interesting chapel onsite yet outside the compound houses a collection of skulls displayed decoratively in a glass fronted dark wood cabinet.

Andreas had not joined me on my tour but instead opted to stay at the café drinking coffee.  I got a coffee as well and the café’s specialty of local homemade yoghurt and thyme honey.  Though good, the serving was enormous and way too sweet for me.

I had a look round the Gift Shop and purchased a set of Crete stamps.  Each stamp depicted a scene of relevance to Crete whether a person, place or thing.  My set included the Rethmynon Forteza, Heraklion Forteza, Arkadi, Knoses, Cretans dressed in local garb, Minoan art and a few other sites: Chania and Samaria Gorge which I not visited, though I should be able to include the gorge tomorrow as a site I have seen.  All for €3.50.  Framed they will be a nice reminder of my travels.  The trip back was uneventful as were both quite cold. 

I spent the late afternoon down on the beach as the sun was out.  It was warm but I did not catch any sun, I just sat on the lounger reading hoping for some color.  I attempted a swim but the surf was so strong that I gave up thigh high when I was almost pulled under.  To warm up I had a tea at Mousses- this time I was able to enjoy it under the ‘huts’ overlooking the beach rather than behind the shelter of the glass enclosure.  It was calming to hear the sound of the water and nothing else.  Well for a little while at least until a screaming child interrupted.

At the hotel I looked forward to a shower unfortunately I had no hot water.  I let the water run as instructed but after several minutes it was still lukewarm.  Off I went to reception to explain the situation and also to find out details for my trip tomorrow.  One of the hotel’s owners’ daughter was manning the desk.  She first attempted to deal with the trip which I was notified might be cancelled due to weather.  Great.  While we waited for the call back from Christina, her sister, she asked me to try the waster again.  So there I stood for 11 minutes, tap running full blast b/4 the lukewarm water turned hot.  I was disgusted by the amount of water wasted. 

Back at reception I was put thru to Christina who informed me that yes the trip from Bali was cancelled however a trip from Rethmynon was possible.  That is if I could be there for a 5am departure!  No, I think I’ll pass.  Imagine what it would be like to go thru all that effort for it only to rain the entire 11 mile hike known to be dangerous in wet weather. 

Frustrated I went up to eat dinner to find it was chicken, both meat choices.  Of course I discovered this after I had filled my plate full of veggies.  I am not proud of my next action which was to leave it, an almost full meal, on the end of the bar.  At this point, with the disappointment of the trip, and no hot water all I wanted was a good hot meal!

Down on the main beach I went back to Mousses.  It had a nice atmosphere, not too loud of music and due to its location the sound of the waves.  I ordered fried aubergine and grilled octopus.  The aubergine ‘crisps’ were addictive- so good.  As for the octopus, well just plain delicious; perhaps a bit chewy but also crunchy at times.  I think I like the tendrils the best.  I ate too much!

I thought a brisk stroll might be in order given the amount I consumed and headed upwards to the port.  At the turn up and around I chose to hit the middle beach which I have not walked yet this trip.  Down the stairs and out onto a deserted beach.  The few tavernas enveloping it were open though not well supported.  I sat on a dry lounger, first on a wet one, and was soon mesmerized by the waves.  It is amazing to watch them roll in and then as they hit sand laterally spread sometimes joining many single waves into one long one.  30 minutes passed easily.  The night sky had a few clouds and I was saddened that the stars were so ordinary as they were the highlight of my June trip.

Sunday, September 23^rd      

In contrast to last night’s fun, this morning was not.  I awoke feeling ill, very ill.  Flu like symptoms, burning up yet freezing cold shivering.  It definitely wasn’t alcohol related as I had consumed 3 drinks over a 5 hr period.  But if I was to be sick tehn today was the day.  It was totally overcast, the sun never appeared and the wind blew strongly occasionally containing water droplets. 

When I did arise, very few people were about.  And those that were were bundled up.  I went to the internet café to check my emails thinking Mum might have written since I still had not heard from her.  I also needed to read up on the news.  It is so easy to become detached from current events when you are traveling.  Newsworthy:  Mime Marcel had died, tensions mounting in Junta, another shooting at an American University and Blue Tongue in Britain.  Blue tongue?  The first case ever, in Ipswich, and this is just another blow to the British farmers who are already dealing with Foot and Mouth.

Returning to the hotel via the beach boardwalk I thought twice about walking in the sand and decided against it as the waves crashed up to the first row of loungers.  And now as I sit in a taverna drinking hot tea I wouldn’t be surprised if a few went missing in the night. 

The Reception was open at the hotel and I had two items to find out about.  First, when was the trip to Samaria Gorge?  Initailly the hotelier had told me Wednesday; disappointed since I was leaving Wednesday evening.  Then she thought more, perhaps Thursday?  Still no good but she couldn’t understand why.  Basically a language barrier- she meant to say Tuesday.  If Tuesday then golden!  Yes, she checked her notes and it was Tuesday.  The second item was a hair dryer.  That in hand I dropped it off in my room, grabbed a book and walked down to the beach to seat at one of the many tavernas lining the water’s edge.

A creature of habit I returned to Mousses Café.  I had eaten here in June and enjoyed it then as much as I am now.  Due to the weather I am seating inside looking out over the sea.  I can see the waves crashing into the beach but not hear them- probably best as the current is so strong.

All of these places are family owned and operated, the tavernas and the seating on the patch of sand in front.  It is evident right now as the entire family is out pulling in the loungers on the beach and removing the cushions from the outdoor furniture.  I am really glad to be inside.  BTW, pen number three has expired.

It was pork for dinner again.  The dining hall was busy so I found a table near the back.  Maybe too far since I had to finally get up to be served water.  I have a feeling the young Bulgarian saw me but . . .  She was the one that I had a hard time communicating with in June.

Andreas picked me up after dinner and we went to a very Chi Chi bar- I was very underdressed.  He wanted to watch a football game so I sat outside with him till halftime then I could stand the wind no more.  The Germans inside knew him well, one gent had been coming for 15 yrs and Andreas shared this man’s passion for Bayern Munich.  He brought out a catalogue of the team’s clothing and the two of them were like children scouring the ads b/4 Christmas.  Raki was passed around- not smooth like the hotel’s- it smelled like acetone and stung making my body shutter.

Apparently Andreas did not win enough last night so we went back to play some more pool.  I played atrociously.  Enough said.  We saw the English couple from last night, maybe their local whilst in Crete?

I was in bed by midnight, though I couldn’t sleep so I read for a while.  At 5am I awoke ot complete silence and near darkness, a power outage.  Thanks to Mum I retrieved my LED mini torch but as I attempted something made the hairs on my neck stand up: my phone shone brightly as if it knew I needed the light.  Awake again, I read a few a pages, by torchlight, until I did fall asleep only to be awoken by the cold metal of the torch touching my arm.  At some point the power switched back on awaking me momentarily.  

Saturday, September 22^nd     

As I write late in the day the sea is pounding the beach, techno music is playing at a beachside taverna and a sand volleyball game is in session.  A background of clouds cover the mountains.

Andreas called this morning, unable to take a boat out in this weather, and asked if I would like to visit Lake Kourna- the only natural freshwater lake in all of Kreta.  Overjoyed by the offer since it looked like another dismal day I accepted gratefully.  As with all water areas, it was quiet.  There were a few brave souls pedaling out on the water but most stayed close to the water’s edge, at a taverna enjoying the view.  The ominous clouds overhead did not open however moisture was thick in the air. 

There were many geese, not Canada, and other ducks but no terrapins as touted in my guidebook.  Lone sheep slept on the steep hillside of the peak behind.  We walked half way around the lake but no more as feared the rain as well.  I wouldn’t have minded a trip out in a pedalo- Andreas was not keen.  We had a drink, coffee and water, and a grilled ham and cheese at the furthest taverna overlooking the lake.  All along the water’s edge was Vitex, mostly spent but a few still in full bloom.  Dotted about I also saw quite a few lemons, grapes and apples.

The establishment had an aviary; caging small budgies, larger peahens/peacocks and wild grouse.  It wasn’t small but I still felt sorry for them.  As I have been reading da Vinci would have purchased the birds and then set them free.  Though I am not sure how well that would go over for me. 

From here we traveled into the port of Georgiopolous.  Located here is a small chapel out in the water.  I do not know whether the island in which it sits is man made or not.  The rock ‘walk’ to it is most definitely, a volcanic path crossing a small patch of water.  Today the walk was treacherous and from the west we thought impassable.  Resigned to this fact we walked closer just to get another perspective.  Once over we ventured out after another couple a bit before saying ‘What the heck’. 

Waves crashed into the rocks from both sides.  By the time we reached the small island we were soaked to our waists.  I had on quick dri fabric but Andreas wore cotton athletic pants.  I am glad I did it, not that the chapel was impressive but just for the experience.  An experience that made me laugh getting thoroughly soaked, took my breathe away when I slipped with all my camera equipment held above my head and the knowledge I may never return.  Back on ‘land’ Andreas and I both laughed.  My capris were almost dry when we pulled up to the hotel but Andreas was to have a soggy drive back to Sisses!

The water eventually turned hot in my room- I hate to think of the gallons I wasted getting it to a comfortable temperature.  The shower had no curtain so I tried to contain the water.  Almost successfully though not quite and not much I could do.

Later I walked briskly to the internet café, one because it was brisk and two for a bit of a workout.  In my mail there wasn’t anything pressing, surprise surprise.  However there was a scan of a highly amusing and extremely creative invitation of a friend’s wedding celebration party.   It will be on my 34^th birthday whilst I am in England but I so want to be able to go.  I imagine it to be one of those parties that should not be missed.  Oh well, I will be here and have my own excitement to deal with as my Mum arrives that day!  It will be 5 mts since I have seen, the longest time we have ever spent apart.

I walked the main beach, glad I wore a long sleeve top and not at all envious of those ‘fools’ out in the water; down to the bay and back.  At the rocks the tide was almost at high so I did not venture around the smaller section of beach.  I stood, at times with my eyes closed, listening to the waves.  Occasionally too loud, otherwise calming.

When I returned to the villa I had to open the windows and the doors off my bedroom as it was oppressively humid.  Chilly outside but hot inside, go figure.  I read thru my Crete guidebook, eager to find other places I might visit.  Hopefully the sun will shine tomorrow so I can get some color.

Dinner was lots of salads- fresh and prepared, funny colored casseroles, and meat- chicken or weiner snitzel.  The weiner snitzel was quite tasty and probably very bad fro me!  I had a class of the hotelier’s own vintage red.  Not bad, not great. 

Andreas picked me up at 9pm for a few drinks down at the port.  We started the evening at Bar Posto.   He thought I would like to see the menu because it was full of images.  Some I had seen before, and I gather shouldn’t be reproduced in this manner.  I liked the taverna from the moment we walked in.  Set off the beach, the ‘walls’ are moveable.  I later found I really enjoyed this since it kept the smoke at bay.  You could tell the owners’ had a design sense by the décor. It was fun but definitely more upscale than most I had visited.  Funky art hung over the bar and eclectic pieces were scattered thru the space, being neither kitsch nor cluttered.

My drink, a Kamikaze, was quite the production!  It arrived with a melon arch covered in flowers and even a sparkler.  Impressive.  When I ordered, Vassili the owner, asked whether I wanted freshly squeezed lemons.  But of course.  He explained that most northern Europeans dislike the taste- it is too tart.  This reminded me of my early teen summers in Portsmouth when I would cycle from my Nan’s to my Grandparents’ to meet a friend on the way to the beach.  Before we got too far we would stop for lemons.  One to highlight our hair, mine was so blonde I wonder why now, and the other to eat.  Yes, eat.   The drink will go down as a highlight of the evening so if you ever find yourself in Bali you must have one, it will not disappoint.

I persuaded Andreas to play some pool as another taverna, the only one where I ahd seen pool advertised.  Later I found out it was owned by Lefteris’, the captain, brother.  As with most of my pool playing experiences, I started out strong but as the last few balls remained I faltered.  I won 1 out of 4- miserable results but I enjoyed it.

Our last stop of the evening was to a disco ran by a friend of Andreas.  The hotel, which had a capacity of 550, was at 450 and almost all were French.  Unlike the Boogie Dance Club I went to in June this place was packed with dancing patrons.  We danced a few as well.  It was a fun night.

Friday, September 21^st      

My first day in Bali has been much different from my last trip in June.  I awoke to rain and mist covering the tips of the nearby peaks.  After a typical Cretan breakfast of Greek yoghurt, sweetbread, honey, canned fruit and coffee I felt almost human.  I had hardly slept last night and was really feeling the effects.  A few of the staff recognized me.

I ventured down to the port mid morning.  As Andreas asked if I would like to attend a wedding with him this evening I stopped in every shop looking for a dress or skirt suitable.  The one time I don’t pack a dress and I need it!  I could not find anything appropriate.

At the port I joined Andreas and Maria at Bonsai for a water as they played backgammon.  As a result of the weather they spent most of the time ‘working’ at the bar.  95% of the tourists were either patronizing the numerous tavernas or out on day trips.  The beaches were nearly deserted.  And it was so nice not to hear the sound of wave runners!  I mentioned to Andreas about my disappointing shopping experience and he seemed to have forgotten about the wedding.  Did I dream it?  Was it not this evening?

Early afternoon I walked back to my room via the supermarket- a glorified mini mar/souvenir shop- for a lunch of yoghurt and a nectarine.  I discovered I was not alone in the villa, but a German couple occupied the floors above.  They were taking advantage of our ‘private’ pool.

On my way back to the port for an afternoon of sailing, Andreas was returning from Sisses and gave me a ride- I would have been content to walk.  With the wind rising and the clouds moving in, the boats moored at the concrete pier had to be anchored out.  From a deserted harbour, it became active with boat owners shifting their vessels to the open water.  This should have been a warning to me. 

I boarded the catamaran mid trip in Bali, the charter of Parisians set off this morning from Panorama.  They docked in Bali for lunch and were returning for an afternoon of sailing.  The boat, captained by Lefteris, enjoyed deep seas up to 300’, strong winds 16 knots and enormous waves.  I on the other hand experienced seasickness for the first time!  I did not vomit however my equilibrium was off and the only position I found comfort in was laying/sleeping in one of the three berths below.  A great way to spend an afternoon sailing.

After sailing Andreas stopped in at a friend’s restaurant Taverna Psarodoula for dinner.  I ordered swordfish while Andreas insisted I try fried jumbo shrimp as well.  The shrimp arrived fully intact closely resembling crawfish.  I would not recommend this delicacy.  While there I mentioned the wedding and he went white or as white as a dark skinned Greek can.  Needless to say we did not make it to the wedding.

Exhausted I was dropped off at the hotel with intentions of having a hot shower and a good night’s sleep.  Neither were in my cards.  I ran the shower, cool water.  I let it run for a while but the temperature didn’t change.  I don’t do cold showers.  Guessing the problem was not me I wandered up to the bar where I was sure the hotel owners would be.  As soon as I walked across the dining hall Yourgo and Alton recognized me greeting me with big grins and hugs.  Andreas, the hotelier, was seated at the bar and invited me to join him.  After catching up I told him of the water issue and he told me I must run the water for a long time as it comes from the hotel first.  Two raki later I tried the water again but was only able to get lukewarm.  I apparently don’t do lukewarm showers either.  Wide awake I climbed into bed, sleep evading me.

Thursday, September 20^th    

Gazza and I had planned on going to the Internet Café we had previously been to however when we drove past it was closed.  Really closed with the front garage door like cover totally covering the front and completely hiding any sign of an internet café.  Slightly depleted we headed to an area around the University until I spotted a café ‘somewhere’ in Southsea.  I don’t know if I could find it again.

Great little café, wireless was free as long as you purchased a drink which I would have done anyway.  It was a real café with internet, not an internet café that just happened to serve coffee.  This is a huge distinction.  Here one could sit, relax, surf without pressure.  In the other café it had computers lined up almost touching and I felt uncomfortable.

Enjoying a Cappuccino, I uploaded which lifted my spirits immediately.  I have been disappointed that it has been so long since I have been able to ‘share’ my travels.  Weirdly, parts of Dublin have been lost.  Yes, I understand the Dubliners will be surprised and I will reblog when I return. Unfortunately my images will have to wait till I have an afternoon to devote to this time consuming process. 

Back at the house I finished the last of my packing.  Gazza and Dean were chatting away downstairs as Gaz had offered to drop me at the train station.  At the station I bought my ticket and then went into the Pumpkin Café for a sausage roll.  I sat inside eating and reading til almost the departure time then I lugged my bag up the stairs over to Platform 2 to wait.  Over the tannoy a rep announced that the train was delayed due to some operational issue.  Ten minutes and the same announcement.  Twenty minutes and the same announce.  Thirty minutes and the train had been cancelled. 

Back over the bridge I lugged my bags to find out alternative routes.  Whereas my first choice involved no changes the next one included two.  This makes me nervous especially if the station has multiple platforms.  As I waited, probably ten minutes in, the train rep who had assisted me approached me with another sheet detailing yet a different path.  The second train had been cancelled as well but this time due to a bomb scare.  So if this third train is a go then instead of being 45 minutes early I will be 7 minutes late.  A reminder to myself why it is best to not wait till the last minute! 

The train was ago, though there was a further delay at my change.  Once at Gatwick I took the transfer train to the North terminal checking in with plenty of time.  I looked around the terminal shops, purchasing a 15 top up voucher for my mobile at Boots. 

The flight did not depart on time, though we ended up making up the time.  I spent the first part speaking with the couple seated in my row.  They like many Brits had been coming to Crete to many years, twice a year sometimes.  They spoke of the relationships they had developed and the life events i.e. weddings, baptisms, that they had attended.

We also spoke of airline safety practices.  Immediately after the Fasten Seatbelt sign had been switched off 8 women jumped up to use the toilet.  Then people began to rise from their seats milling about: a scene that would never be seen on a U.S. flight.  I found it faintly unnerving; I have grown accustomed to remaining in my seats and only rising if I need to use the facilities.  It is broadcasted on U.S. flights that that is to be expected.  This conversation led to the Tube Bombings.  The husband, now retired, had been a bus conductor and on the day of the bombings though a day off he had called in not believing the initial media reports of mainline disruption to be told that at least three bombs had been detonated.  

The plane arrived in Heraklion on time.  Passport control was a bit more stringent than before, this time the man actually looked at the passport whereas previously he waved all EU passport holders through only stopping those from other countries.  It took a while for the baggage ? to start.  While I was waiting a young Canadian, Jordan, struck up a conversation.  He was over here studying Tourism as part of his university studies.  “Was I” he asked?  I was flattered even if his intention was to.  Finally bags began appearing, but not mine.  The crowded terminal slowly emptied and I waited.   My bag did appear second to last.

Andreas was waiting for me just in from the exit, he is never to far from an area where he might be able to smoke.  At this time, well after 1am, the city was quiet.  The roads were clear.  On our hour drive to Bali, Andreas tried not to smoke but gave up half way there.  We spoke of what had been going on but it seems not much changes for him.  Work seven days a week: boat trips to Rethymnon, manning the sales office at the port and renewing friendships as people return year after year.  Summer will be coming to a close mid October and then he will work on his villa, care for his grapes, lemons and olives and rest. 

At the hotel, I rang the mobile number Christina gave me and soon Mrs. Andreas met me to show me to my room.  I was not to stay in the main hotel but in one of the villas set up the hillside.  The villa had multiple levels, I occupied the bottom.  It had two bedrooms and a bathroom.  More than adequate for me.  Outside I discovered the villa came with a private pool.

Wednesday, September 19^th    

This morning I accomplished very little.  I did however finally wash my trusty North Face Apex jacket.  At the flat the washer dryer combo instructions on the machine were hieroglyphic as far as I was concerned, not universal symbols at all so I feared I might ruin the jacket if I washed it there.  This washer detailed the instructions easily thankfully; now let’s hope it dries before tomorrow afternoon.

I received a voice message from Debbie, my second cousin alerting me that my great Aunt Mary had been taken into hospital on Monday with a crumbled disk.  When I spoke with her this evening Debbie said that it was probably caused by my Aunt’s osteoarthritis.  She certainly has not had it easy, first she breaks her arm, then my uncle is taken into hospital, then his funeral, followed by an upper respiratory infection and now this.  I hope they are able to treat the disk without surgery which may be too much for her right now. 

After lunch I went out for the afternoon: first on the agenda was visiting Bob the ground’s man at Fratton Park, as with my first attempt several week’s ago he was not there.  On my way to the stadium, I walked down Apsley Road by the flats Auntie Lil lived in and by our old house. 

I spent a few hours at the library before walking down into Eastney to stop in at a chandlery.  For my trip to Crete I want a waterproof pouch because I want to go kayaking and I am concerned about my money, etc. and also want to be able to take my Elph out to capture images.  The guys in the shop were very helpful and now after £16.50 I have a waterproof pouch. 

From here I went into the butcher’s for tonight’s lamb dinner, mailed a card off to my friend Patty who will be undergoing a mastectomy next week and Tesco’s for sparkling water.  Errands done, I headed to the house. 

Dean arrived not long after I and I began dinner as I was already hungry.  With enough I offered Dean a meal which he accepted.  I cooked roast lamb, cauliflower, zucchini and a carrot relish.  I grated the carrots, placed them in a saucepan to reduce some moisture then added balsamic vinegar, a splash of port and finishing off with a bit of olive oil to try and ‘glaze’ them.  And of course, mint sauce.  Lovely if I do say so myself!

Over dinner Dean and I chatted mostly about Gazza and the demise of their shared interests in the Oggy Oggy Pasty Shops.  There was so much that Gaz had glossed over that for a good part of the meal I ate in disbelief.  I won’t go into any details but the details should be told and sold as ‘what not to do in business’.  It is a terrible situation and one I fear none of them will come away from barely scathed. 

            The evening was spent blogging away =)  I hope I am able to upload to my website tomorrow!

Tuesday, September 18^th    

I slept in a bit due to a latish night last night and also the stress of the last few days.  Gazza wanted to go and get breakfast so went down the front to a Tea House known for its breakfast and cakes.  Set in an old summer beach hut that has been added onto, the sight of the cakes was almost too much however I really needed sustenance so a full English breakfast was in line.  I will have to bring Mum back here when she arrives for afternoon tea.  We had a good meal and a nice chat.  Gazza’s spirits were sky high compared to yesterday. 

After eating we headed for an internet café near Commercial Road.  I could have just gone to the library but Gazza seemed to need me there so I went along paying £3 for an hour’s use.  Good thing I did find out was that they had wireless capabilities so I can bring my laptop and upload my blog and photos!  This makes me very happy as I was beginning to think it was impossible.  We also went for coffee at M&S before he dropped me off near the house.

Instead of going straight home I walked thru Milton Park, a park I had spent many hours in as a child, and then hit the internet at Beedow Library, the library by the park where my dad had gone as a child.  And it was across the street from St. James’ Church where his parents got married.  Though small, the library was cozy and much more comfortable than the huge contemporary structure downtown.  And the stations were set around the space so you didn’t feel as though everyone was watching what you were doing.  I actually was able to respond to quite a few emails and do a bit of research.

Mum and Dad called whilst I was surfing away so I strolled into the park to speak with them.  I had sent them an email earlier in the day to say ‘so far so good’.  Talking with then I realized how much of a relief I felt especially after our conversation on Sunday afternoon.  I went back into the library and read up on sailing preparing for my weekend trip at the end of the month and also perused the travel section.  For my trip I settled on a novel with historical references to a National Trust home, one which I am not familiar with.

Back at the house, Dean was trying to get the bed that I had slept on in the flat up the stairs.  It was no easy task.  Eventually we had to take it partially apart in order for it to clear.   These Victorian row house staircases are steep and headroom is limited therefore making the act of furniture moving upstairs difficult.  After putting the bed back together I moved all my belongings from the back bedroom into this middle room.  Again I questioned the amount of stuff I had accumulated.  Where had it all come from?  What could I get rid of?

In the evening I watched a bit of tv- a show on the Terrracotta Army hosted by Tom Snow.  I think he could have been speaking in Chinese and I would have still watched!  Also, watched that guy who rides on a bike across the countryside traveling in the paths detailed in historic novels.  He’s not much of a looker but his journeys are incredible- in this episode he followed in Daniel Defoe’s footsteps based off of maps from his time period.  At one point he ended up in a car park, another time the village had actually moved from where it was located 300 years ago.  Fascinating.

Monday, September 17^th    

I awoke before eight to finish my packing.  Packing is not a task I overly enjoy and it was made harder by the fact that I was still unsure what was going to happen today.  Ten came and went with no Gazza.  Not surprising though as I am sure he will be late to his own funeral.  At 10:30 the phone and it was him saying he was a few minutes away.  Perhaps his time perception is off?  Nearing 11:30 he showed with boxes, tape and tissue paper.  Hoping to get him to tackle his disaster of a room I took control of the kitchen.  Let’s just say his room was enticing and I think he spent more time on the mobile than packing!  Gazza was way down in the dumps and I tried to be as upbeat and positive as possible given the circumstances.

We had no garbage sacks so he went down the high street in search and I decided lunch was in order.  I cooked spaghetti in a tomato and meat sauce.  He wouldn’t eat, said he couldn’t however I did as I was hungry.  Last thing I needed to get was a lack of food induced migraine.  After eating I continued to pack up the kitchen.  At one point I popped my head around the corner and saw a mountain of garbage sacks filling the hall.  Knowing full well that they were going to the dump, I couldn’t help but imagine what was in there that he would one day regret tossing?

Dean arrived mid afternoon to help move us across.  He was openly honest about the state of the flat i.e. the amount of furniture.  All good comments, some voiced by me before, but ones that really were too late to react to unfortunately.   We packed up my stuff first and I rode over with Dean to unpack.  On the ride over I had hoped for us to chat about the arrangements but we chatted about everything but, possibly unconsciously? 

At his house in Southsea, we unpacked my belongings and moved them up to the back bedroom temporarily.  After doing so we did have that chat and if the floor could have opened up I would have had it swallow me!  Apparently Gazza had not asked Dean over a month ago whether I could move in, barely a week ago and then Dean told him probably not as he had friends from Florida (currently away for the week) already bunking with him till their house was ready next week.  I explained I would never have imposed had I been given that information and told him what Gazza had told me.  He just laughed, saying that was typical Gaz, promise the world but not having the world to promise. 

Torn I did not know what to do but Dean seemed to take it all in stride and we came up with a temporary fix.  With my impending trip I would just pack up all my bags when I left and then when I returned there was a chance that his friends would be in their house.  If not then Dean would stay with his girlfriend for a few nights and his friends could have his room.  I think problem solved though I am still displeased with Gaz for not telling the truth and embarrassed that Dean might have thought I knew the whole situation.

Dean went back over to Gosport to help Gazza finish packing up but another complication surfaced.  The landlord showed up at the flat demanding the keys and wanting to know when we would vacate the property.  Never a dull moment.  The two of them packed up all they could leaving some furniture as the charity shop did not pick it up and over they came latish.  I had been out for some milk and had a bit to eat and was watching telly when they came in, already having a long chat with Mum about all the day’s events and in particular the non information.  The three of us chatted away for a few hours then Dean and I had another chat when Gazza went to bed.  I am starting to feel as though maybe this will be okay.

Sunday, September 16^th    

Mentally a draining day and one I hope to forget soon.  Not hearing from Gazza concerns me and I wish I had other housing options.  I had a good, long chat with Mum and Dad which made me feel better.  And I keep thinking of Crete next week to avoid obsessing about the situation.  If we are to move tomorrow then there is so much to do.  There are no boxes or packing supplies and where is it all going?  Gazza’s lock up will take some but none of the large furniture. 

Gazza did text to say we were definitely moving out but was I moving to Dean’s?  Would there be room?  I started sorting thru my things- I have amassed more than I thought.  Part of the problem was that I was packing for Crete at the same time so that bag wasn’t filled to capacity.  Even so I will have to whittle my belongings down somehow when I return.  Luckily Mum will be traveling back with me so there will at least be one extra bag ‘we’ can take.

Gazza called late in the day and we had a bit of a chat, which is much longer than two minutes but wasn’t five.  I grilled him on the plans, told him what supplies were needed and again asked if there was space for me at Dean’s.  Yes, there was.  He was planning on getting to the flat around 10am and would pick up boxes in the morning.  The couches, dining room suite and few other various pieces of furniture would be donated and a charity van would be by to pick them up later in the day.  Best laid plans? 

Autumn has begun; cool winds and cloudy skies are today’s weather.  

Saturday, September 15^th    

It was a bit of a lazy day, doing laundry and blogging.  The forecasted cloudy skies earlier in the week have yet to appear.  There was a showing at 2pm so I stopped in at Morrison’s for a few items and posted my grad school re-admittance letter also.  Still no word from Gazza.  The landlord had called to tell me about the showing and also to ask about our moving date.  I told him what I knew which was that we were planning on moving out tomorrow but that I had not heard from Gazza since Tuesday so perhaps the plans had changed.  I think he was happy to know he wasn’t the only one who had been ignored and was without details.  However, I did not find any solace in the situation.

I as I type away a man is playing a guitar and singing across the street at the Clarence Arms.  A little off key at times, it is an unexpected relief against the drone of the traffic and the spin cycle of the washer.

Friday, September 14^th    

Another hair adventure today: highlighting at the local beauty school.  My appointment was for 11:45am but it seems a few students must have had too much fun last night and I was asked to wait 15 minutes.  You wouldn’t have known they were understaffed though as black clad teenagers outnumbered clients two to one. 

The girl who was to highlight my hair wore hers jet black.  She had pasty white skin and as much personality as a dead fish.  She really bowled me over as you can tell.  I have no idea what her name is either.  Personality aside the highlight was fine. It just took an outrageous amount of time.  When Lucy does my hair she highlights, cuts and styles in about an hour.  I left the salon at 2:15pm.  

Ran into Primark, then Marks and Spenser’s for a wrap and lastly to the library.  At the library I luckily found an open computer and sat down on the task of booking Mum’s flight over in October and finding a flight to Crete.  I accomplished both quite easily!  Though I won’t be able to stay in Crete as long as I had previously hoped for, I found a ticket that certainly won’t break the bank.

With Debbie’s Surprise 50^th Birthday Celebration this evening, I rushed back over to the flat to get ready.  I knew what I was wearing therefore it was just a matter of applying makeup and getting dressed.  The unknown was the amount of time it was going to take to get from the Hard to Hilsea, way north on the island.  I called Auntie Mary to verify that the do was actually tonight since initially I had heard two other nights, hate to show up on the wrong evening!  Yes, it was tonight and she ‘was putting her face on’.  Earlier in the week I thought I had better stop in to make sure she was okay with what she had chosen to wear.  I know she would normally have Debbie to consult.

Ready, I walked down to the ferry and caught a few looks.  I won’t say I didn’t appreciate them because I did!  From the ferry I took a bus into Commercial Road, stopping at the bank to withdraw some cash, and then hopped a cab for the Roko Club.  The Roko is a health club essentially with a bar area rentable for private functions.  It is located not to far from Deb and Lou’s and they are members.  As the taxi drove up I realized that it used to be a series of football pitches. 

I arrived early, quarter to seven.  Debbie’s friends were finishing setting up in the bar so I joined them.  She has known this group of women since she was 19 and they have remained the best of friends.  They were all very nice and quickly absorbed me into their circle.  The DJ had already set up and the food trays lined a corner of the space with a few dotting the bar.  Purple balloons with ‘Happy 50^th Birthday’ and glitter covered every table, contrasting with the red of the bench seats upholstery- though I am sure no one noticed as much as I did. 

Lou had asked for the guests to arrive before 7:15pm and by 7pm the first wave began and more and more continued to appear till most were there at 7:30.  I saw Don, Debbie’s brother, enter but no Auntie Mary.  My suspicions were confirmed when he said she had got ready but couldn’t go.  She has not been out since the funeral almost four weeks ago.  I was upset with myself also since I thought this might happen and had considered going over.  Oh well, too late for regrets and I hope she doesn’t regret not going.

Nearing eight a rather stunned Debbie and a smiling Lou arrived.  Deb thought she was attending the 25^th Anniversary Party of an acquaintance and was thoroughly surprised.  Her birthday isn’t until the 22^nd so she had no reason to suspect a surprise party.    

Lou guessed the guest list was at 100, I am sure it was more.  The bar area spilled out onto a patio where smokers and non alike enjoyed the comfortable evening.  I spent most of my time at the end of the bar chatting with Don.  I have not spent hardly anytime with him before so it was good to get his perspective on our family.  There are a few tales I will tell my Dad when I return.  Debbie’s friends coaxed me out on to the dance floor for a few songs but the music was not my style, 70’s and not disco. 

Don and I caught a cab near 10pm.  It dropped me off at the ferry before taking Don along to his local for one last drink of the night.  Exhausted and cold I went straight to the flat.  My walk was diverted momentarily by two events.  The first was a line of police at the terminal.  It did not appear to be a situation just unusually large gathering of people at the front.  The second stoppage was caused by one of the friendly foxes.  He/she/it ran across the street avoiding a couple walking and headed straight for me.  Stopping in its path, it looked (perhaps I am speculating) questioning at me.  I stopped not sure what to do and then it trotted directly for me nearly colliding before dashing under a gate.   

Thursday, September 13^th    

The alarms went off at 5:15am for my day trip up to London.  I caught the 7am bus to Victoria scheduled to arrive at 9:50.  At one point in the drive the driver announced we were 20 minutes late but we ended up arriving on schedule.  I leisurely walked up Buckingham Palace Road to the palace for my day at the Official Royal Residence.  My ticket was for a 10:15 entry, first at the Queen’s Art Gallery.  On display were a selection of Renaissance paintings, jewelry, trinkets and drawings. 

I mention the drawings last because they were by far the best part of the exhibit.  All the greats: da Vinci, Michelangelo, Raphael, Borremini were represented along with some lesser known yet equally important artists.  If there is one thing I wish I could do better then it is to draw.  I was in awe and rightly so.  Included were sketches for the baldacchino for St. Peter’s at the Vatican and a fresco of Fortune at Villa Guilia in Rome- works of art I knew the moment I saw the drawings.

I left the galleries still trying to soak up what I had seen.  Amazing.  It was time for lunch so I hit an Italian Café across from the street.  Crowded I wasn’t sure they would seat a single but they had a two top that was ideal.  I ordered Carbonara and a cup of tea.  The tea was so so but the Carbonara was to die for.  It was rich, creamy and so decadent!  I ate every last morsel and would have eaten another bowl had it been offered. 

Earlier it had been recommended that I see the Royal Mews before the State Rooms of the Palace.  The Mews house the carriages, cars and a few horses.  On display are the actual horse drawn carriages that are used in royal processions and state occasions.  The glass carriage, the one Princess Di rode in to her wedding and the most amazing one, the gold?  Weighing in at 4.5 tons, it takes 8 horses to pull.  The craftsmanship is remarkable. Truly works of art.  I went on a guided tour, led by a lively OAP whose details made the visit.  I can’t imagine not going on a tour.

Additionally, the mail carriage was getting ready to depart for its daily delivery to Buckingham Palace and then onto Clarence House, the Prince of Wales Official London Residence.  It left at actually ten to two which meant there were a few rounds inside the central court of the Mews before it departed.  Right on time. 

From the Mews it was a short walk to the entrance for the State Rooms.  The rooms are only open in late summer and early autumn when the Queen is away at Balmoral in Scotland.  Open since ?, this is the first opportunity I have had to go.  You enter from the side, in the back corridor that forms the rear enclosure of the court visible through the front gates.  It is all you would expect and nothing you would ever comprehend.  Opulent yet inviting, massive however comfortable.  Total opposites.  An audio guide leads you thru the spaces, allowing you plenty of time to loiter and added commentary if you are interested.  Even though it immaculate you can see it is used.  I would love to attend an event here.

I can’t say I have a favorite space because all rooms were fabulous.  If pushed though I would have to say the dining room overlooking the gardens.  I couldn’t tell you what color was on the wall or the carpet patterns but the feeling that swept over me as I walked through the room was one of calmness and tranquility. 

The only disappointment of the tour was not seeing the Queen’s garden, I thought I had read it was open but instead we exited the rear of the palace into park like gardens.  Nice, just not want I was expecting. 

The entire tour cost me £25, since I was able to use my student ID- would have been £28 without.  You do not have to see everything I saw, but if this is a one and only you might as well see it.  I spent the best part of the day from 10:15am to 4pm touring so also plan on allocating a day.  There was still time for me to do something else had I wanted to but I was quite content to get a cappuccino and seat in a park watching the world go by.  It was another very good day.

Wednesday, September 12^th    

I traveled over to Ryde, Isle of Wight on the Hovercraft. It meant taking a bus to Clarence Pier versus leaving from the Hard but as I had already taken the FastCat this summer I thought the Hovercraft would be another mode of transport to add to my growing list.  For a day return including unlimited bus travel the fare was £17.  On the FastCat it is £19.50. 

Again I must remind you that the island is only 4 miles from Portsmouth however getting to you final destination can at times be trying, today was no exception.  From Ryde I took the same bus route I had taken in August for Cowes, a lot less crowded, traversing several neighborhoods before ending up in East Cowes.  The bus stop was directly across from the entrance to Osborne House.  I left Gosport at 9:30am and arrived at the estate at 11:30.

Osborne House is one of my favorite homes.  I can’t pinpoint the exact reasons for my preference, but I am sure its relationship to the sea and the comfortable nature that keeps me returning. I remember my last visit with my Nan oddly because on the bus ride from Ryde there was an American college student who had the worst sniffles.  It was so comical other passengers were giggling so I offered him a tissue.  Nan would remind me of this every time Osborne House was mentioned.

Osborne House was Queen Victoria and Prince Albert’s vacation home.  A place they could retreat to where they could truly relax and be a family without the pressures of their royal status.  Purchased as an established estate of 2000 acres, Albert went about redesigning the land and working with an architect to demolish the existing house and building the current home seen today. 

I started out wandering through the Walled Garden: a wonderful pottager garden, fully planted, with an arbor reminiscent of the Victorian era.  Espaliered up the structure were pears and at the ends roses were trained.  As with all Victorian gardens, this one had a greenhouse or in this case, greenhouses.  On my last visit, one was almost entirely devoted to Geraniums which were much cultivated during this time period.  Sadly, the collection is not what I remembered.  In 2000, I had just finished my Horticulture degree before embarking on my MLA and geraniums were becoming a hot item again in annual planting.  Additionally, scented geraniums were seeing a revival. 

From the Walled Garden I walked through the park like setting down to the main house, Osborne House.  This frontal view is nice but not the stunning sensation which I would later see.  I took this opportunity to grab a bite to eat at the Terrace, a restaurant housed in one of the lower wings off the rear formal gardens.  Lovely decoration, great space, service erratic and food mediocre.  There was a group of ladies who had a superb spread buffet that appeared to be getting a great service and phenomenal food so perhaps they are better suited for a group rather than one?

In the summer there are not tours unless as a group but during the autumn and winter months there are.  I am not sure the rationale on that one as I would think the home visited more during the summer.  Anyhow, an exhibition about the family, their time in Cowes and the estate greets you upon arrival.  It is a nice introduction and also reminded me of how family oriented V & A were and also Victoria’s near obsession with Albert.

The estate was purchased for £29,000 and £200,000 was allotted to make additions as well as furnish the new home.  Each birthday and Christmas, items for the home were exchanged between Victoria and Albert.  The exterior of the residence is Italianade, designed by ??? in keeping with Albert’s design intentions.  Locally sourced materials are abundant as well as one of the kind originals.  The interior is well done, though extremely cozy for a royal residence. 

The formal gardens are Victorian Italianate, which one would only expect.  Ornate bedding parterres filled with bright (garish?) annuals are best viewed from the upper rooms whereas the walled enclosure below is specifically for taking a turn.  This property is probably the best kept English Heritage site, not a flower out of place nor a weed to be seen.  Yes, it takes a bit to get here but it should be every gardeners list  

In addition to house and gardens Albert also designed a cottage, Swiss Cottage, for the development of their nine children’s domestic abilities.  Here the children would learn how to tend a garden, cook their produce and clean.  The kitchen was designed specifically for smaller frames.  Each child had two plots a piece to grow what whatever veggies they wanted and the gardeners today plant similar Victorian varieties.

Around the cottage, are two items of note: the first is the Royal Barracks.  The barracks were built by the children using bricks they hand made.  The other is the most beautiful Japanese Maple ‘Dissectum’ I have ever seen.  Twelve feet tall by fifteen feet in canopy diameter, perfectly sculpted.

The distance from Swiss Cottage back to the entrance is slightly long but a nice stroll.  A mini bus is available for those who cannot or wish not to walk.  As you walk along, you pass pastures that lead down to the sea and get glimpses back into the house that really give you a perspective of the site’s development and its relationship to the land.  It was a good day out indeed.

I had to wait for a bus to take me back to Ryde, but once it arrived it seemed a shorter distance than coming.  On the bus were three challenged males, one was a dwarf.  I was intrigued since I had seen the documentaries in this deformity on ?.  From their chatter, they had just finished working and were going home.  I tried not to stare however it was difficult as they were sitting up front and on clear view of where we were heading.  Seeing them did not make me feel uncomfortable but proud they had been given opportunities to have a life and contribute even if minimally versus hidden away in an institution.

In Portsmouth, I took the HoverBus into the City Centre so I could get on the Internet.  I checked my email and tried unsuccessfully again for a flight to Crete.  It was very frustrating because the site would come up with a fare and when I clicked on it it would say it was unavailable, on multiple fares.  It is looking as though I might not be going =(

Tuesday, September 11^th    

I got a good night sleep last night, a couple of glasses of Ginger Wine and two ibuprofen/codeine probably had a little something to do with it =)

 Over to Pompey I popped, the trip across was the smoothest I had ever experienced- calming and relaxing, and I spent almost all day at the library on the internet.  I had a distressing email concerning a dear friend, Patty Dye; she has been diagnosed with Breast Cancer.  Please keep her and her family in your thoughts as she battles this terrible disease. 

I am still trying to get a reasonable flight to Crete.  It appears as all the flights available are for 7days- I’d like to spend a few days than that- and are more expensive now than in high season.  There is one charter that might work, but I need to know when we are moving.

At one of the breaks I had to make since the computers are only available for 30mins at a time (longer if no one is waiting) I went up to the Third floor to the Café.  Here, overlooking Guildhall Square, I drank a Cappuccino and ate a slice of Coffee Sponge.  The sponge was good though it does not compare to my Mum’s!  As I was leaving I encountered a sorry soul and my heart dropped for the second time today.  This poor man, thin as a rake and most likely homeless, could be smelt a mile away.  My heart sank and then after passing him, seeing the state of his trousers, I thought (hopefully unselfishly) about where I had sat. 

Gazza responded to my third message in the last couple of days!  He is up in London interviewing today and tomorrow.  By the pep in his voice it sounds promising.  He anticipates a move date of Monday- I looked at so many flights today that I hope the one I want isn’t Monday! 

This evening I went for a walk again over to Priddy’s Hard.  Half way across the bridge Mum called so I walked slowly back to the flat whilst chatting and enjoying the sunset.  Well that was until the battery in my mobile died!  Back at the flat I prepared for the next two days, Isle of Wight tomorrow and Buck House (Buckingham Palace) on Thursday.

Monday, September 10^th    

Sleep evaded me last night once again and I suffered for it all day long.  More military helicopters were overhead throughout the day.  The Chinese ship was gone when I traveled across this morning and a Royal Navy ship was being towed out.  Perhaps my thoughts of training are wrong and there is a military initiative taking place?

In town I posted a few letters and ran some errands before heading yet again to the library.  I was able to spend a considerable amt of time on a computer today without shifting too many times.  My mind wandered too easily though, probably lack of sleep.  Emails were answered but I still am not sure of what my immediate plans are and with not knowing when we are moving is adding to my indecisiveness, as if I needed any help in that area!

On the trip back to Gosport, the ferry was jammed packed.  Full mostly of students who took the daily trip across for better education.  Standing on the covered pontoon, there must have been 200 people in front of me and maybe 50 behind.  As I got on the boat I looked to find out how many people it took but didn’t see a sign. 

For dinner, I had lamb again and the remains of the cauli and leeks from yesterday.  As I had not eaten lunch this was a combined lunch/dinner.  Following my meal I walked up to Morrison’s to get milk and water since I was nearly out and those are two things I can’t be without.  I also stopped at the Cashpoint and was surprised to find the wire transfer Mum had made of Friday had already been deposited. 

After reading a bit more of ‘Learning to Think Like da Vinci’ I watched the first hour and an half of Fahrenheit 9/11 before getting too tired to watch the ending.  Propaganda no but certainly biased.  And boy what a light Moore has shown Bush.  What really caught me off guard was the depth that the Bin Laden Family was intertwined into the Bush Family’s operations.  Additionally I did not know that John Major was mixed up in the lot as well with the ? company. 

Sunday, September 9^th    

Weird night last night- the pub across the street was unusually loud and then I awoke bright eyed at 2am for no reason.  I wandered off into fitful patches of sleep before awaking to the sound of a military chopper.  It was if it was in my bedroom.  It was not far off because with the blinds parted I could see it crest the roof of the pub.  Imagine one 100 feet from you and you will just about have it.  Terrifying to say the least to wake to this.  I have seen several throughout the day so I am guessing training? 

The morning ran away and I have not much to show for it except a botched highlighting job.  I used the same touchup kit as before for the same amount time applying it in the same manner but with not the same results.  It wasn’t terrible however I thought it was best to go natural.  So off I tottered to Morrison’s and now I am much darker than I have been in a while.  It really doesn’t bother me.  Now I wish I someone I knew would see it and give their opinion. 

After a roast dinner of lamb, cauli and leeks I finally made it out.  I thought I would have left by 1:30pm a t the latest but . . . I walked around to the Round Tower since it was open today as part of Heritage Days.  With the glorious weather the area was packed!  Some of these people I imagine had not even known the Tower would be open but had wandered in.  The interior of the ground floor was spectacular- mushroom like.  The central brick column ‘blossomed’ into the ceiling and fanned out the stone walls.  Based off the literature handed out this construction would have occurred in the mid 1600’s although a round tower has existed in this location since the early 1400’s.  Stalactites are hanging from the ceiling resulting from moisture in the brick mortar.

 Thirsty I headed to The Point and stopped in the Spice Islands Pub for Sparkling Water.  I sat out on The Point, one among roughly a hundred others.  There was a lot of activity ashore and in the water: ferries and sailing boats mostly.  From the Point I walked along the Hot Walls towards Clarence Pier and then to Southsea Castle.  Part of the castle was open so I walked the upper walls, getting a 360 degree view of the area.  It was a fantastic afternoon, weather very pleasant and people just enjoying the day

Back at the flat I started in on rereading ‘Thinking like Leonardo da Vinci’, a book I have read but not really read.  It has so much to take in and comprehend I gather I will be reading it a few times before it starts to stick.  I bought three years ago in D.C. when I was up there for Erin Hatch’s wedding.  Today I allowed no interruptions and really focused on the text.  I will conquer the writing and I will learn from it!

Saturday, September 8^th    

I spent another morning and early afternoon at the library.  I really do like peace and privacy while writing and I am ‘waste’ too much time at the library not being able to fully concentrate and eliminate the chatter around. 

My nose was in a book, ‘Becoming Strangers’, all evening long.  I had picked it up at the library, knowing nothing about it but what the jacket told me: two couples, two last vacations, death, adultery and declining health.  I had quickly scanned it to make sure it wasn’t one of those novels especially with adultery but couldn’t find any passages.  Guess I didn’t look in the right places but luckily there weren’t too many pages devoted.  It served a purpose of being a read, not a fabulous read, and I did enjoy the characters but I wouldn’t say ‘Go out and read it’. 

Friday, September 7^th    

I spent the morning and early afternoon at the library emailing and researching.  However I did take a break to catch some lunch, a BBQ Steak Wrap from M&S, before heading back to the internet. 

Afterwards I strolled thru Gunwharf, not really needing anything but just enjoying the weather.  It was another fabulous day!  Where has this weather been all summer long?  Tomorrow I think I will head into town early, run a few errands and then hit the seafront.  The flat is being shown at 2pm so it would probably be best for me to be out.

The Chinese Sailors were out in full force again today.  They travel en masse and buy en masse as well.  The Manager of Clarks’ must be very happy: I counted 6 with 6 bags each!  And their camcorders were also with them, once more recording the streetscapes of Pompey for whatever it is worth.  

Being that it was a beautiful evening I was not staying in even if I didn’t have any plans or anyone to go out with.  I got ready, looking mighty cute if I do say so myself, and took the ferry across.  The Gun Wharf has a number of establishments- bars, clubs and the such, so I thought it was a safe bet I could find someplace.  I walked around down by the waterfront surveying my options and ran into one of my students, Ugur, from the Language school who I had already seen today in town.  He was alone as well.  We spoke for a few minutes before parting ways and I had chosen Tiger Tiger as my destination. 

There wasn’t a queue to get in and I was able to secure a prime spot to watch the band upstairs in the bar overlooking the marina.  The band was entertaining, projecting their personality into the cover tunes they played.  Soon it became quite crowded and the dance floor was full.  Both women and men in groups were out shaking their thing; I had a good laugh at times.

The band finished early, 10:30ish, and so I explored the labyrinth of a place.  Five bars in total: two lounge bars, one sporty bar, a disco and the place for live music where I started and an outside balcony which I didn’t step foot on.

In the disco I was approached by an Aussie and we spoke for a while.  He was a bit young and not really that interesting.  He is traveling thru Europe, typical story, working here at a pub to earn some cash.  Fortunately for me he had had a bit to drink and had to run off to the loo.  Escape time.

As I was wandering about I ran into two more guys I knew from the Language school.  I couldn’t tell you their names but I had spoken to them before and they recognized me.  We chatted, had a shot of tequila (didn’t know what it was when it was offered) and then we went to dance.  They were great fun!  They headed out to the casinos but I chose to stay a bit longer.  Casinos are just not my thing; maybe I should have gone though just to see how it compared. 

I didn’t stay much longer, the natives were getting restless and the ones who struck up a conversation with me were not that appealing.  The last Gosport Ferry was at midnight and it was well past 1am so my only option was the late night boat at the tune of £3.50.  The crowd was not very lively, surprising since it was still early enough. 

Thursday, September 6^th    

I was over in Portsmouth around half ten to find out more about the Heritage Days.  In short, select historic sites across the British Isles are open today throughout the weekend free of charge and many with behind the scenes tours.  The tour I was most interested in was one of the Mary Rose, Henry VIII’s flagship that sunk off Portsmouth in 1559, now housed at the Dockyards.  On a side note, the entire Dockyards are not open free of charge just certain museums.

Not knowing one had to pre book- no mention on the websites I had viewed- I was first on the waiting list.  Fortunately twice in one week I have been lucky enough to secure a space, hope my luck doesn’t run out any time soon.

The tour started in one of the education rooms of the Mary Rose Trust.  The Trust is responsible for conservation, restoration and education concerning the ship but also provides conservation and restoration for other items.  One such item they are working on right now is Seahenge, a water version of Stonehenge.  Must do some research on that. 

Back to the tour now- a quick PowerPoint presentation on what the Trust has done specifically for the Mary Rose and then a show and tell of artifacts.  The presentation detailed the actual recovering of the wreck, how the pieces are preserved, what technology is utilized and how the items are stored.  Fascinatingly, the wreckage was so well preserved by a cover of silt that filled and covered the ship.  That and the fact that after early attempts to recover, the precise location of the wreck was forgotten!  Bringing it ashore was the hard part is its continued preservation.

The first item in the show and tell was actually a demonstration of what happens to wood after it has been removed from the preserving cover of silt and water.  Two sections show the non-preserved and the preserved.  Quite a difference, you will be able to see it in my pics.  Next a gold coin was passed around.  Being made of gold it was not harmed in any manner and it can be touched without protective gloves.  Today I held a coin from Henry VIII’s reign!  And to boot it is one of only 26 recovered from the wreckage.  I don’t know why that strikes me as something to really write home about but it did.  We were also shown the final process of preservation on a pewter canister and then an analysis on leather.  Another intriguing explanation was of another ship wreckage: an archaeologist presented the final documentation of the wreck which was a bound book of drawings.  Each timber had ‘drawn’ using a sensor hooked up to a computer, making each individual piece digital. 

Next we saw restoration on two timbers from Seahenge.  Basically the conserver was reapplying the outer bark that had sloughed off when removed from the preserving environment of the water.  A time consuming process, each piece is put back together like a puzzle and then pinned into place.  Additionally she showed us leather items, archer wristbands and pouches, that she was preparing for a permanent display.

 Then we went through to a storeroom- storing 7,500 items in a 10’x10’ space if that.  Anything from combs to leather goods to bowls to longbows.  One imagines a few items to be in such good condition but not the extent of this collection.  I have seen it with my own eyes yet it seems impossible for these objects to have been preserved for over 500 years at the bottom of the sea!

Leaving this area we walked a good distance to the where the remains of the boat is stored.  Half of the both is still intact again being preserved by the silt surrounding it entirely.  Since its recovering in 1982 it has been kept moist with a series of chemicals, part of its restoration eliminating sea salts and organisms that would continue the decaying process.  In the near future it will be air dried a procedure that could take up to or perhaps longer than two years.  The ship will remain in its current location with a system built around it- I did not ask whether it would be visible during that time or not.

Behind the ship, in a series of rooms, is where the restoration and preservation processes take place.  For some items after they are cleaned they go into a freeze drier.  For those that cannot take the cold temps then they are placed in an air dryer.  Unfortunately I am blanking on examples- sorry.  Outside without any cover was a massive anchor, probably 20 feet in height and 6 feet wide, soaking in a liquid to stop any further decay.  Surprisingly the container was open to the elements- I am hoping just for the tour today.

            The tour ended here but we had stickers that enabled us to visit the Museum unguided.  By now it was 1:30pm and I was starving so I decided the café in the middle of the dockyards was as good as any place: veggie soup and moist sourdough bread.

            Before venturing into the Mary Rose Museum I strolled back down to the Victory to grab a few shots.  It was not free so as I have toured it many times I chose not to go again but did want to get some pictures as I was here.  On the way I passed several Chinese Sailors, their ship had pulled into port this morning.  As I was taking a photo of the ? I caught one taking a photo of me.  It was hard to miss when I turned to step away and this camera was directed straight at me!  Taken back I nonchalantly walked towards him and I don’t think he knew I knew b/c he had the image still visible on the LED screen.  I saw another sailor taking a picture of a young family reading an informational plaque.  It is one thing to take photos documenting an area or depicting everyday life but me taking a photo and a family reading doesn’t quite come across as interesting or informative. 

            I then stopped in at the Artist’s gallery, a gallery of mostly nautical and local scenes.  A few originals but too many reproductions to keep me there long.  Another thing that bothered me was that everything was on sale, even the original works.  I was always taught that discounting art diminishes art as a whole.  It is like designers who don’t charge who their time.

            The Mary Rose Museum as opposed to Mary Rose Ship Museum houses the artifacts that have been recovered and tells the tale of the vessel’s final moments.  There is a short documentary that is worth viewing as well as areas appealing to all ages.  I found the overall outlay of information overwhelming but the individual displays sufficient.  The museum opened in 1984 and is showing signs of age.  Perhaps others won’t notice this but it detracted from the items displayed for me somewhat.  At 3:30pm I had enjoyed a nice day but was ready to leave.

            Since I had my camera with I decided it was best to take it back to the flat before my hair appointment at 5pm.  Across I went on the ferry, up to the flat, dropped off the bag, ate a pear and had a coffee before walking back to the ferry and across.  To and fro the smell of hops was intense as well as what I believe was Eleagnus in bloom, but in September?  I have passed a sign that reads Brewery Shop Open every time I walk to town but never realized that the shop in a series of warehouses had an actual brewery, a storehouse yes.  I am discovering new things about the area everyday.

When I got into town I had enough time to duck into the bank and found the info out I needed about wiring more money over.  I have decided to not try and find any more employment but travel as I will more than likely return to Dallas in mid November.

            After the last haircut fiasco I was calm especially since an apprentice was to cut my hair.  I went shorter than the last time, not sure if it was a conscious decision.  Richard, the stylist, was methodical and accomplished if only a trainee.  It took an entire hour to wash, cut and style but the results are good.  I had told him about the disaster, fully explaining how Lucy cuts my hair so I think he was relieved when it was over.  I did not mean to frighten him.

            I nipped over to the library to check my email, can I tell you again how annoying it is not to have the internet at the flat!  I had mentally made plans to use this week and next to do so much research and now I can’t get to it easily.  Tomorrow I am going to try to be at the library in the morning as early as possible.  Not an appealing thought! 

Wednesday, September 5^th    

I stayed in this morning doing laundry and sorting thru my most recent travel stuff: boarding passes, bus tickets, brochures, etc… all those items which I do collect and will eventually fill up another box in my collection of boxes.  But hey I like boxes and I like to reminisce.  

While doing the laundry the underwire in one of my bras escaped.  Now the washer makes a loud churning noise- extremely loud!  Tried to find the wire but it has lodged itself between the drum and the innards.  And to top off the experience this morning Gazza had left a pair of dirty socks in the machine.  I didn’t realize this till after I had removed what I thought to be my clean white laundry which is neither clean nor white anymore.  Perfect!

With little to eat in the flat I visited Morrison’s.  When I returned Gazza had dropped by to pick up a few things.  As he is job hunting he looked quite smart- much improvement over the dark green cotton polos and dark trousers I was so used to seeing him in when he ran the pasty shop.  His job hunting sounds like it is going well; he has two interviews set up for this week and one for early next.  We also spoke about moving out and we may be out by the end of next week depending on when Dean’s (the place we are moving to) lodgers move into their new digs.  Dean lives in Southsea in Portsmouth which will mean no more commuting via the Gosport Ferry. 

      Speaking of the ferry, I took a trip over to Pompey.  I still had not received my last check from the language school; the director must have known something was awry since he had emailed me while I was away asking me whether I had received one.  Therefore I popped in to request for a check to be cut.  They asked for me to return later which was not inconvenient since I was heading to the library for internet access.  Yes, I am finding this to be a big pain.  I can’t upload any of my photos or access my website (I don’t know the address as it is saved on my computer).  At the library, which doesn’t have any wireless accessibility, there are 25 stations that are almost always filled and each initial session is for 30mins, well you know how quickly 30mins flies by.  More time is available but I just can’t seem to be as productive there as at my own computer.  Later I am going to write down all the things I need to look up for tomorrow.

From my emails- good news on the sailing front.  The guy I met at the Guggenheim in Bilbao, John Salmon, and I have been emailing back and forth.  He is associated with a sailing club here in Gosport (even though he lives in Derby) and put me in touch with them.  All the exciting trips (read sailing the coasts of Europe) are over for the summer but there are weekend excursions to Chichester Harbour thru the autumn. And better yet John is going to be down for a weekend trip the last week in September and has invited me along.  I have been trying to sail all summer so this is very exciting. 

I walked back over to the school to see about my check- they still had not re-cut one so I had to wait around a few minutes.  From there I went into Commercial Road to deposit the check and set a hair appointment as I am desperate for a haircut.  I am still gun shy after the disaster the day before I left for Spain in early July.  This time I thought I would try Toni & Guy so I set an appointment for tomorrow afternoon- cross your fingers!  

The evening was warm, no wind and very calm on the ocean.  After dinner I took a walk: out the back of the flats and down along Weevil Lane.  This is literally north of my flat but I haven’t ever walked that direction.  Whenever I leave I walk southwest towards the High Street; the only time I go north is in a taxi when Mac takes me to the airport.  The barracks that are northwest of me continue across the road northeast to the sea.  They are no longer barracks but have been renovated into stylish flats.  Along the southern side of the street are old military buildings, some dating to the late 1700’s.  I had no idea.  Intermixed with the historical buildings are also new complexes of flats that complement the old. 

It was a nice stroll and I thought it would terminate at the pier I can see out of the window.  However there was a bridge that led over to Priddy’s Hard, a northern peninsula.  On this strip of land more flats similar to the ones near the barracks.  Also Explosion, the Naval Firework Museum, is located here along the water.  The bridge gapping the two land masses is a drawbridge of sorts, though I am not sure exactly how it works.  I think it might actually be part swing part draw.  I am puzzled why it would need to be either since I can’t imagine ships of that size entering the small bay.    

On my return, I did not walk down Weevil Road but rather went off at the fork in the road towards the southwest.  This lane led me down into more flat complexes and eventually to Royal Clarence Pier and Marina.  It was a really nice area, again complementing the historic military structures.  The views of the Solent and Portsmouth were stunning as the sun was setting.  All of this is just around the corner from the flat and I had no idea! 

Tuesday, September 4^th    

Another near sleepless night worrying whether I would wake even though I had three phone alarms set for 5am!  I was up at 4:30 wide awake.  Beth arose after I showered and we had tea and blueberry scones for breakfast- very nice.  At 5:30 I was walking towards town after I realized the bus would not run until 6:59am from this part of town.  Near the docklands I was able to tag down a taxi for the remainder of the way to Westmoreland to catch the Air Coach for the airport.  Dublin is very sleepy at 6am.

The flight was not delayed and the short trip, just over an hour, flew by- no pun intended.  Entering the terminal passports were not checked.  Not sure why.  When I was leaving Dublin in the café there was a report concerning child trafficking into the UK via Ireland, maybe more stringent security checks would be a deterrent?    

My bag was one of the first off and Mac greeted me as I exited the terminal.  It is so nice to have a familiar face meet you when you get back from a journey.  There was an accident on the road from Bournemouth to Gosport so he drove north to avoid before veering southeast.  This part of the journey took much longer than the flight. 

Back at the flat I dropped my bags and hooked up my computer only to discover that we no longer have Broadband.  Not a happy camper about this at all!  It will take so long now to upload my blog and the photos.  I went across to Portsmouth to use the internet at the Library.  Unfortunately I only went through some of my emails and I have many more to send in addition to research I need to carry out.  I may need to spend most of the day there tomorrow.

Gazza called while I was in town and asked me if I could be at the flat around 4pm as the landlord would be checking it out before viewings started.  Not a problem for me.  On my way back I picked up fish and chips because I was too hungry to cook.  Another reason was I had nothing substantial at the house to eat either.

At 4:15pm the landlord and a friend showed up to look around.  Both were dressed in motorcycle gear, the type worn on long trips.  I saw a lot of bikers, not Harleys, in North England and Scotland.  We chatted a bit, the landlord has family in Dallas but he doesn’t know where. 

I phoned Gazza to tell him all went well, no ill feelings since we were moving out under less than perfect conditions.  I will be slightly sad to leave since it is convenient and for the most part I have had the run of the place to myself, barring Mark of course.

The swans are back, but this time there are four signets instead of two.  I don’t think I missed two . . .  And they have grown so much as well.  Perhaps a different family?

I called home and spoke with mum and dad for nearly an hour.  I wanted to tell them about my trip and also bring them up to speed on the living arrangements. 

I have spent the evening blogging and downloading my pics but now I am feeling decidedly tired.  Hopefully I will sleep well, refreshed and ready to research away tomorrow afternoon.

Monday, September 3^rd     

Since we were out latish last night I was pleased that I awoke in time to get on a minibus tour of the Wicklow Mountains and Glendalough south of Dublin.  I had not pre booked so I visited the Tourist Office off Grafton first thing.  There are three companies that travel a similar route but only one had a possibly space.  Luckily I was able to get that one spot.  The other companies tour in a large coach and are unable to pull off as our minibus could. 

There were 14 of us; Canadians, Americans, Italians, Australians, Welsh, Argentines, and Israeli.  The only Irish was the driver Ed, a retired naval communicator from Dublin.  A good group of people even with the Canadian mother who was a bit of a tire: she was your typical ‘I haven’t traveled outside of my country’ traveler who asked way too many questions and stated some of the silliest comments constantly.  Her 20s something daughter is living in Dublin and at times also tried to ignore her! 

After living the City Centre we traveled south up into the hills before the mountains.  Ed stopped a few times for us to take pictures and even had tea and coffee to serve mid morning.  This is a lovely region and so accessible to Dublin.  Along the way Ed gave commentary- quite entertainingly as well.  He pointed out the turf or peat that had been ‘harvested’ drying out; noting that hopefully those who had labored in the task would reap the benefits and not some late night bandits.  His stories on the films that had been filmed here were surprising.  Mel Gibson’s Braveheart was one of them.  In Ireland if a artist (filmmakers included) lives over 150 days continuously then the government does not tax them so that is the reason 90% of the movie was filmed in Ireland and not in the more appropriate locale of Bonny Scotland. 

Locals of the region include Daniel Day Lewis, Bono, U2’s manager, the Guinness family and other well known Irish.  A former resident is Mia Farrow whose mother Maureen, most notably Jane in the Johnny Weismiller Tarzan movies, was a Dubliner.

We lunched in Laragh, pronounced Lara just like my name.  Lara is often used now as an English version of the Celtic Laragh.  Or so Ed said so.  I had a hearty veggie soup with moist lovely brown bread.  This seems to be available everywhere and tasty to boot.  From this tiny village we visited a waterfall and then went onto Glendalough, the Glen of Two Rivers. 

Sunday, September 2^nd     

Saturday, September 1^st    

Friday, August 31^st   

I did not sleep well as I got very cold in the night and the migraine resurfaced.  Therefore I slept through the morning only venturing out when most people were eating lunch.  From the flat I strolled down to the Docklands, a major revitalization project and a must see for anyone in the design industry.  Large glass and steel buildings dominate the waterfront.  As a mixed used development, cafes and shops are starting to inhabit the lower levels whereas flats are for sale or to let.  Beth said most of the building has happened within the last two years which is quite impressive for the size of the area.

 Center stage and highly visible is a Martha Swartz landscape.  Martha Swartz is known for her Artistic (sometimes read Kitsch) Landscape Architecture.  She is into hardscapes.  Her lack of planting or extremely minimalist selections suggests outdoor architecture versus landscape architecture.  It is not that I don’t find most of her work intriguing, because I do, however I do not find it site specific or usually user friendly. 

Let me explain but first a bit of background information.  The project has only recently been completed and to date the surrounding built environment is not complete.  The Theatre, a major axial terminus to the North is missing and boat piers to the South need to be constructed. Additionally, the electrical which you will later understand it’s importance, is also not fully operational.

The design is linear

Thursday, August 30^th  

Mac picked me up at 6:30am for my 9:35 flight to Dublin.  Even though I had had plenty of time to get ready I still felt rushed this morning.  Probably due to lack of sleep- stupidly afraid I might not wake up.  The drive to Bournemouth was uneventful and I easily checked in as well.  I sat around in the dinky departure lounge waiting for the flight to be called.  8:50am the boarding time based off of my boarding card came and went and then the minutes ticked away with no word from Ryanair about any delay.  At 9:25 I felt I better ask someone but whom?  There were no Ryanair employees to be seen.  In the Duty Free Shop, I did ask one of the women behind the counter for some assistance.  By her response I feel this might happen on a regular basis.  She said that the plane had not arrived so my flight would most likely be a few minutes late.  I really wanted verification from the airline though.  Finally, an announcement came over the intercom that the flight was indeed delayed to the preceding flight’s setback and passengers should expect a ten minute delay.  Well, those ten minutes went and I still sat.  Another and another.  I arrived in Dublin an hour late.

The drive from the Dublin Airport, north of the city, took us through several different boroughs.  Not knowing what to expect I was surprised by the developments.  In the suburbs it reminded me of Virginia yet as we got closer to the City Centre a mix of single, two and three storied facades were more common; then in town Edwardian terraces, grand looking facades with ornate balcony guards.  I felt comfortable.  I don’t know why but I immediately liked the architecture, the diversity and the contrast. 

I had texted Beth alerting her of the situation and then again when I arrived in Dublin and then again at the Irishtown Guarda Station which was to be our meeting point.  I did not receive any responses but thought nothing of it since I knew she was working.  I should have paid more attention.  Just by chance she was walking home for lunch a few minutes after I arrived at the police station. Beth commented that Ryanair still was showing that the flight had not landed and she had not received my texts.  It was good she was there since I did not know her work number or address.  Note to self: next time get those critical details.

We walked the two minutes to her flat to drop off my bags before grabbing lunch at one of the local pubs in Three Pub Alley, The Vintage.  Beth is definitely a local and they called her by name when we entered.  I enjoyed a tuna melt wrap whereas she had the most oddly prepared Caesar Salad I think I have ever seen: uncut lettuce leaves.  Aesthetically it was attractive yet to eat it took some post presentation prep. 

After lunch Beth headed back to the office and I hopped a bus for the City Centre.  The bus dropped me off on Westmoreland at the base of Fleet Street which leads down into Temple Bar, Dublin’s most well known bar area.  I walked down Fleet Street, taking in all the sights, before crossing over to Dame Street and down past Christ Church out of the City Centre to the Guinness Storehouse (St. James’ Gate Brewery).  Founded in 1759 by Arthur Guinness this is where ‘Black Gold’ was developed.  The self guided tour through the old warehouse, now defunct due to automation, was really well done.  Not too much information, not too high tech and appealing to all (I think).  I would highly recommend it and for those wanting to know, yes you get to sample the beer- Twice!  Once in the tasting room where a video explains how best to get the flavors and then again at the end of the tour, an entire pint.  You can either enjoy it in one of the bars on the fourth floor or best, enjoy in the Gravity Bar with 360 degree views of Dublin. 

Unfortunately I developed one of those lovely migraines after imbibing the porter- most disappointing.  Thankfully a remedy of sparkling water and over the counter Ibuprofen/Codeine did the trick.  I walked slower returning to town since I was meeting Beth out and was waiting for her call.  When she called it was rush hour, both for vehicles and for pedestrians alike.  Mass amounts of people spilled out into the streets and it seemed as though all at once.  Taking Beth’s direction I navigated through Grafton, an area I have come to know well now, to Bailey’s.  Bailey’s is not a traditional pub, more of an upscale bar with Dublin’s yuppies as patrons.  With all the dark suits, I felt like I was in Mayfair (London).  Joe joined us and they had a drink while I was still feeling the mig pangs. 

We went from yuppieland to a traditional pub, The Stag’s Head.  Think dark woods ceiling to floor, mirrored splash to illuminate and also play up the Victorian stain glass windows.  And of course a Stag’s Head.  I continued with sparking water and the three of us had a good time catching up.  Joe did not join us for dinner since he has an early start at 8am.  Beth and I tried to get into a few places but to no avail.  We settled in at Gruel, a ‘Good Home Cooking’ place with a twist.  I chose Bangers and Mash. 

Wednesday, August 29^th  

For a few hours this morning I tried my hand at animation.  Well sort of: simply PowerPoint animation for Tiffany’s birthday card.  I was somewhat successful and it couldn’t have been terrible b/c I am writing about it.  I have even taken a few ‘movies’ on my camera to try my hand at a movie.  Very short and simplistic I am sure it will be but the idea appeals to me. 

At lunch I was going to grill some shrimp however they were well passed their use by date even if the packaging told otherwise.  Instead I headed off for some fish and chips.  Hit the spot nicely!

Shortly after 2pm, Mark and two mates showed up to pack up all his things.  They swooped in and swooped out rather swiftly- highly impressive.  His bathroom toiletries and food in the kitchen remain but that’s it.  I don’t know when he’ll be back or if I will see him before I leave for Dublin tomorrow.  Heck, he may come and go for good while I am away.

Still haven’t seen Gazza so I don’t know how his job interview went, he is not answering his phone either which is annoying.   Gazza called!  Interview went well and his presentation was in line with what the others had prepared.  They were told that 100 people applied so they were the top 10.  Additionally, because of the response and the quality of the applicant’s, the charity had contacted an agency that deals primarily with Charity hires and given all of their CV’s, resumes, for their review.  Gazza hopes to get the position but if not at least he will have some other prospects most likely.  He should know yea or nay on Friday.  Cross your fingers!

Tuesday, August 28^th  

I spent the morning doing laundry and tiding up a bit.  Oh how exciting.  In the afternoon I left for Portsmouth.  I had a few things I wanted to return- some trousers I had purchased in Leeds at Next when I thought I would need them for teaching.  They are too big anyway now as well.  Almost down another pant size again!  Great for the figure, terrible for the bank balance.

I hopped a bus into town to visit the bank and the post office.  At the bank I wanted to see about bringing more cash over from the US so I waited in the Information line to talk to the rep who had been most helpful when I was dealing with the debit/credit card challenges.  Unfortunately she could not help directly; I must contact the overseas banking office.  Additionally I needed to pay my credit card but that meant another line which was verrrryyy long. 

I cannot tell you how many people complain about airport travel in this country yet experience greater lines and incompetence at the bank and post office.  If they only knew what real travel nightmares were like!  Dallas to Boston 2005- 12 hour delay with thousands of others at Newark.  Now that is a true nightmare!

When I got to the teller to pay off my credit card balance she asked for my postal code which I gave her and to which she responded no.  Yes, I gave it again.  No.  I gave the address.  No.  My date of birth.  No.  The info I was providing her did not correspond to the info on her monitor.  Identity theft was the first thing that popped into my mind.  But how?  Auntie Mary has been receiving all my mail and there hasn’t been a stoppage in the amount.  The teller was not fazed in fact she didn’t seem to think there was a problem at all.  My blood was boiling now.  She offered no explanation and told me she could do nothing about the incorrect data.  Then who?  Back to the first line, the Information line.

There I waited to speak with Monica who unfortunately couldn’t help when she was free.  I waited for another rep.  She was very helpful thankfully.  At one point an Indian lady tried to barge her way in for some help and the rep told her she would have to wait.  The lady persisted but the rep held her ground and told her that I had patiently waited my turn in the line and if she did the same then she would receive the same treatment.  Turns out that it is most likely not Identity Theft but rather human error- my account number was similar to another’s that recently had an address change.  Even so and just to be on the safe side I put a block on the account stating that my passport would need to be presented if money was to be withdrawn from the bank.  Better to be overly safe than sorry, though I can’t wait to find out what problems this will cause me.  I withdrew some money at the cashpoint just to make sure my card had not been affected and so far so good.

At the Post Office, I had to mail a letter and also check on mail forwarding for my parents.  After the bank I hoped this was to be a painless experience.  The cards I was dealt today were not in my favor.  The line was out the door and it was hot both inside and out.  Inside the air was stale and stagnant.  I waited and waited and waited.  Even though the building was full it had not been too noisy, but that was broken. 

Right by the only entrance/exit a verbal altercation broke out between a man and a woman.  From the accusations being flung, I gathered they used to together, he supposedly beat her and he had had their children taken away from her.  In all honesty, her drunkedness/stoned state I can’t image she did much for her case.  Words were exchanged, expletives loudly stated and it wasn’t long until those waiting in line joined in demanding they take their problems outside.  Well that went over like a ton of bricks.  Finally she was coaxed out however he and two of his mates, a man and woman, moved through the line.  And they just had to know the lady in front of me!  She did not seem bothered by the drunken lot but everyone else did not appreciate their presence.  To give you a good mental picture of the group, the supposed wife beater was in dire need of a bath, wore clothes that neither matched nor fit and swaggered knocking into whatever was in his way slurring apologies.  The woman friend was pregnant with her belly hanging out over dirty tight jogging pants.  Her arms were covered in abscesses and needle puncture wounds.  She tried to act ‘normal’ but didn’t succeed.  The other man, her partner, was high on something as well however functioned well.  They repeated the same conversation over and again which revolved around the pittance they received from the government to live on. 

When it was my turn I was grateful.  I mailed the letter and then received instructions for my parents on re forwarding their mail.  The info wasn’t what they will want to hear but at least I have it.

Outside the Post Office, the couple were still arguing.  This time he was threatening to call Social Services and she willingly gave him the number when he demanded.  I walked off thoroughly disgusted with them, their lifestyle and the government that gives people like this money: money not to better than themselves but money to sustain a self destructing existence. 

By the time I reached Auntie Mary’s I had walked off my anger.  Though it had been rekindled by a gang of young teenagers, boys and girls, who were loafing about throwing fruit of some sort at passing cars right at my turn down Church Road.  Do they not have anything better to do?  A passing taxi stopped and most politely threatened them which I am sure had the response he wanted: his car was pelted. 

 Auntie Mary was pleased to see me but was a bit down.  The stress of the last few weeks have taken a toll on her both mentality and physically, now in the form of an upper respiratory infection.  We chatted for a matter of minutes before Don arrived and then Debbie.  They were coming in for dinner, a family ‘ritual’.  Lou had been delayed in Guildford on his way back from London so he came in later.  I joined them for lasagna that Lou had made over the weekend.  Quite tasty.   

Debbie gave me a ride back to the ferry which I much appreciated as it was getting late and who knows what else I might have encountered.  Back at the flat Mark was packing up all his belongings.  I enquired about his move but he was not forth coming with definitive answers.  I watched an episode of House and then a show about Celia Fiennes, a 17century English Woman Traveler.  As the show progressed thoughts of how I might be able to tie into her travels were swirling through my mind.  She had written about her trip and a book was published 150 years after her death so how could I make it relevant today.  I have a few thoughts.  Maybe a new project?

Never heard from Gazza today.  I don’t know how the interview went.  I am a little disappointed since we had worked so hard yesterday in his preparation.  Hopefully tomorrow he will be in touch.

Monday, August 25^th  

I awoke feeling icky again!  I finally arose around lunchtime after Gazza had asked me to help him prepare for an interview tomorrow.  The interview is for the Charity Over the Wall based off of Paul Newman’s Hole in the Wall Gang. 

Gazza had been contacted on Friday to inform him that a person had dropped out so if he was still interested could he be available Tuesday with a 5 minute presentation detailing his hobby.  He floated two ideas, his interest in Nelson and the Battle of Trafalgar or his Love of Football by me.  I argued for football as I felt we could relate it to children nicely.  Then I ran with it!  By the time he had returned late afternoon I had already prepared a PowerPoint Presentation template and had started in on adding content.  Oh and had cooked dinner as well: sautéed leeks, fresh green beans and stuffed spring lamb with mint sauce.  Not bad if I do say so myself!

After dinner, Gazza and I finished the presentation and he bounced ideas and points off me.  The earlier, hesitant Gazza was disappearing and the confident, talkative Gazza appearing.  Yea!

Sunday, August 26^th  

I had big plans for today however I awoke feeling a bit out of sorts.  I had hoped eating would help but no- cold and warm with a tickle in my throat.  The day was spent watching way too much tv.  I watched two movies, The Last Holiday and BBC’s Pride & Prejudice, however the later was like seeing three films due to the length. 

The Last Holiday with Queen Latifah was refreshing.  Wouldn’t you like to live life like today was your last (of course not wanting it to be your last).  I’d like to vacation like she did as well. 

Pride & Prejudice is a fabulous film! Fabulous Fabulous Fabulous.  And each time I see it (probably five in its entirety and many snippets here and there) I like it even more than the last.  Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle are captivating.  I don’t know what it is about him but he is beautiful even when he looks in total distress.  I can’t imagine living in that time period but know that if I had lived then that I would know no different.  The scenery is amazing- having traveled thru some of it recently I can attest that it really is as beautiful in person as on the screen.  The setting for Rosings, Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s home, was Belton House where I recently did a National Trust Working Holiday. 

Saturday, August 25^th  

I fear there is one less cat in Gosport tonight!  Here I sit watching a fox chasing what I thought was another fox but unfortunately it was the black cat I have recently seen wandering about.

I stayed in this morning but went out after lunch, down the high street to do some shopping then out to an area along the harbour I had not traveled before.  The region was a mix of late 70-80’s condos- all with great views into the marina.  Haslar Marina, which I have viewed from a far on the ferry almost daily, was much larger and contained some jewels.  The Mary Mouse II, a vessel of some sort, in bright Kelly green is a wine bar regrettably only open to those who have access to the ‘exclusive’ marina. 

Fox sighting: 9:00pm, single.  Keeping the cat population at bay.

Friday, August 24^th  

When I came downstairs in the morning, Neil had returned from Wales.  I wasn’t expecting him until lunchtime so I was a bit surprised but relieved it was him and not a burglar!

We set off for Gosport around 10:30am.  The trip took us through of the same roads I had traveled with John and Linda: very scenic and idyllic landscapes.  The journey by car was shorter and visually more appealing than by train.  We were quickly at the flat and my short time in Somerset gone.

The boys had kindly left me with no milk and no tea!  Two items I kept purchasing and they kept using with replenishing.  Off to Morrison’s I went for these items and other food.  I was craving my black bean fish dinner so I planned on that for the evening.  

Fox sighting: 9:20pm, single.  Lounging about.

Thursday, August 24^th  

Catherine and I went into Glastonbury.  First we climbed the Tor, a conical hill with ties back to

Wednesday, August 22^nd   

Tuesday, August 21^st  

Monday, August 20^th  

I set off early to Portsmouth for Uncle Keith’s funeral.  Auntie Mary and Debbie had invited me to join them in the car from the house.  I arrived much earlier than I had thought I would with a lovely Yellow Calla plant to be planted out in the garden.  I debated whether I should get cut flowers sent for the service but finally settled on a living plant.  It has dark green leaves with white variegation. 

Auntie Mary, Don, Debbie, Lou and I set off fro Portchester Crematorium at 9:45am for a 10:30am service.  The drive took us up the back way off the island up over Portsdown hill and down through a residential part of Portchester.  At one point we went down a lane I would have considered single track it was so narrow.

At the Crematorium, we all felt like we were in a fish bowl as we sat in the car awaiting the final preparations.  Don and Lou scouted out the relations and pointed them out to me.  Debbie was in the far back with Auntie Mary who was handling the situation very well.

We walked in and somehow I ended up in the first pew nearest the aisle.  I felt very uncomfortable in this position and felt Debbie, Don or Auntie Mary should be there instead.  The small chapel filled up on the right side and overflowed a little on the left.  The service was just right, not too long and not too short.  A bit too religious for my taste but not preachy either.  The father looked about 12, okay maybe early twenties.  All in all the memorial went well and Auntie Mary was very pleased.

Out in the gardens, the flowers had been removed from the chapel and placed closest to the entrance.  The funeral director had done this just in case Auntie needed to sit down while receiving family and friends.  Barrells, the funeral directors we have always used, again showed why they are the ones to use by thinking of the things you would never think of in this type of situation and attending to the situation so professionally.  I know that is what you pay them for but their staff is truly top class.

I saw many relations I had not seen in many years: Peter Murphy, my father’s cousin (his mum, Auntie Christine, was my paternal grandfather’s sister); Uncle John, my father’s uncle by marriage (his wife, Auntie Helen, was my paternal grandfather’s sister); Uncle John’s sons’ Richard, Graham and Robin; and Richard’s wife Jill.  I had spoken to Peter recently yet had not seen him.

Following the receiving, the extended family went across to the Seagull, a pub opposite the Crematorium.   Respecting Uncle Keith’s wishes, a wake was not held just a small gathering and it was just for one drink.  Most everyone had either a soft drink or a coffee.  I chatted for a majority of the time to Jill and Peter.  Peter gave us a lift back to Church Road where we regrouped before going down to the Still and West for lunch.  Auntie Mary wanted to have fish and chips and be by the sea.  The Still and West was the perfect location since it served food and we could sit at a table overlooking the harbour.

I won’t say it was the best fish and chips I have ever had, it wasn’t, but it was a pleasant lunch all the same.  And Auntie Mary seemed to be doing well given the circumstances which was really all that matter.

Debbie gave me a lift back to the ferry and I was off to pack before getting back on the ferry to return to Pompey for the 4:22pm train to Yeovil Junction via Salisbury. There was a delay, a broken down train- fortunately not mine and fortunately not too much of a delay.  I called Neil but got no response so I texted him for good measure as well.

When I arrived I darted around the back of the platform to avoid some rather slow travelers and must have missed Neil in the process.  I was over the bridge and in the parking lot when my phone rang- Neil wondering where I was. 

Sunday, August 19^th  

Blog, blog, blog all day long. Wish I could say I was done but I still have to finish! 

Saturday, August 18^th  

Portsmouth is disappearing: a dense mist soon to be fog is covering the Solent.  A few sail boats are returning- can’t imagine they had a nice morning sailing but perhaps they have been far away in a sunny locale.  The coastline is now reappearing as quickly as it vanished.  No more dancing rain but the wind continues to howl.  And it is disappearing again and reappearing- repeating the process all day long.

I went out around 4pm to return a pair of pants I had bought but looked better in the store than at home.  I also stopped by Morrison’s for a few groceries. 

Fox sighting: 9:45pm, single.  Small little thing, sitting on the curb across from the balcony.

Friday, August 17^th  

Last day at the Language School??? Who knows.  None the less it was a good day and I have enjoyed working with these students.  Very different to the ones I taught a few weeks ago.  Even though there were students who did want to learn English they were overshadowed by the ones who viewed their time in England as a holiday.  That said, I think I made an impact on the ones who did want to learn.

After work I took a bus to Palmerston Road to go to Waitrose.  I have scoured the shops but Waitrose is still the only grocery store I have found to carry black beans and I was craving some.  Palmerston Road was deserted even though it was only 6pm.  Waitrose wasn’t busy either and I was in and out in a short amount of time.  At the bus stop I waited and waited and waited watching several busses going in the opposite direction or to Wecock Farm but none for the Hard or Gunwharf Quay.  The wind was picking up making the exposed stop chilly.

The meal was wonderful!  Amazing!  I am really not joking.  I also opened the bottle of Frascati I had purchased at Villa Aldobrandini outside Rome.  Initially I had been saving it to cook for Gazza and his girlfriend Claire (still haven’t met her) but not sure that will ever happen. 

While cooking I checked my email and my parent’s oaks are suffering from too much water after a drought last year and now temps in the 100’s (37-40 c).  This prompted me to call Lambert’s b/c first I had not heard from Melissa this week and wanted to make sure she wasn’t sick and then also to get someone in Tree to call my mum about a consultation.  Genelle was her happy self as always =)  She informed me that Melissa was not sick- I have a bit of guilt since my position has not been replaced and I know some of the burden has fallen on her shoulders unfortunately- but out of town in Michigan visiting her step daughter.   

Fox sighting: 7:20 pm, single.  Sitting on the lawn in full daylight watching people go by.

Thursday, August 16^th  

Another day at the Language School- today was different since I taught ESOL in the morning and IEFTS in the afternoon, a first for me.  The students’ language skills were pretty high so it wasn’t much like teaching but more of a conversation.  Good day!

When I was leaving Pompey, the heavens opened and it bucket.  Not the nice annoying rain we have had through out the summer but huge drops and gale force winds so using an umbrella was pointless.  Fortunately it was dry when the ferry docked at Gosport.

Fox sighting: 2:25 am, single.  Playing on the lawn.

Wednesday, August 15^th  

Interesting start to the morning: was supposed to teach but when I arrived, I was not expected.  I think the director meant to type Thursday and Friday but wrote Wednesday and Thursday instead in the email.  Anyhow they did need me in the afternoon so it wasn’t a total waste of effort.  I filled my morning by going to the Library and reading a few books on taking a gap year as an adult.  Didn’t know they existed and stumbled across them when I was sitting down after finishing a few magazines.  Interesting reading.  A lot of text on planning but there was some good info on sites to check out.

In the afternoon I taught an entire male class of mostly Turks but two Saudi Arabians as well.  There was a huge disparity between the students’ skills which made for some entertaining moments.  I had chosen transportation as a topic which appealed to the male mind and hopefully gapped the varying language levels.

Gazza and I met up for a few drinks following a rather rough week for him dealing with some unfortunate business transactions.  I needed the night out as well so a good time was had by all!

Tuesday, August 14^th  

Poured all morning!  I spent most of it surfing the web and emailing since I couldn’t force myself to blog any.

Shortly after 1pm I started the trek to Portsmouth to visit my Nan’s old neighbors, Auntie and Uncle Price, and also to pop in on my Great Aunt Mary.  Walk, ferry, bus to City Centre, bus to Baffins Pond.  You used to be able to go from the Hard to Baffins but they have eliminated that route and now you have to go to Commercial Road instead.

I visited with the Price’s for an hour and an half.  Auntie (85) is very coherent but Uncle (97) gets confused easily.  But he was and still is such a kind gentle man.  Throughout the conversation he would ask ‘Remind me again who you are?’  I would tell him and then he would talk a bit about Nan or Grand Dad or perhaps my mother’s generation.  Auntie looks great, well actually they both do, though Auntie has lost a bit of weight. 

I hopped a bus back towards town getting off close to St. Mary’s Church to walk down to visit with Auntie Mary.  I had not been by to see her since I have returned from up north and learned off Uncle Keith’s passing.  We had a nice chat and of course a cup of tea!    

Monday, August 13^th  

Sunday, August 12^th  

I spent most of the day surfing the web in search of employment opportunities and emailing friends.  A full day gone- amazing how one can lose so much time so quickly. 

Saturday, August 11^th  

Friday, August 10^th    

Thursday, August 9^th    

Wednesday, August 8^th    

Tuesday, August 7^th    

Monday, August 6^th    

After eating a full English breakfast and saving the sausages and bread for later I checked out.  I wanted to stop by the Tourist office first but it did not open until 10am.  At Asda I picked up some water and a big bag of individual packs of Salt & Vinegar Crisps for my trip.  I drove along the area’s coastline to Marsden Bay, the location of the Marsden Rock which used to be the Marsden Arch. 

After that I drove by and took a few shots of the Roman Fort, an offshoot of Hadrian’s Wall. 

Sunday, August 5^th    

My sleep was not constant.  Across the street from the house lives a twenty something who threw one hell of a party.  The windows on this Victorian row house were single paned.  At about 4:30am a new member joined them, a young lady who liked to hear herself speak.  I am now well acquainted with her sister who has a PhD and two children.  Each child has a different dad and the mother is now dating a man who has children with two different women.  It was if the girl was in the room with me having the conversation. 

Kristin and I headed into Leeds City Centre to go to the Henry Moore Institute.  We parked and walked around for a bit, taking in the architecture.  We noticed some extravagant clothing worn mostly by men.  Outside the Institute a police officer was directing traffic so we asked why?  He replied it was Leeds’ Gay Pride Parade. 

Inside we viewed two exhibitions.  The first kissingcousins  is an exhibit from the Leeds Sculpture collection.  Set within a small gallery, I would have liked to have seen it in a larger space as I spent too much time worrying about hitting other pieces and not enough time focusing on the work previewed.  Laocoon was the focus of the second show.  I must admit I was not familiar with this sculpture and after reading about its importance felt I missed something in my Art History education.  Definitely will need to read up on this!  There was a third exhibit that I wanted to see but the gallery would not be open until after 1pm so we would have to return.

We continued our earlier tour walking towards Millennium Square.  Again we came across bizarrely clad men and a few very manly women.  The start of the parade was to happen from the square.  Great!  I stole a few shots of the scene and Kristin even got a group to pose- look for it in my pics.  The square, designed for gatherings, is fronted by some of the city’s civil buildings.   A corner of the space is a tribute to Nelson Mandela containing a South African inspired garden. Also the area displays a collection of outdoor sculpture.

Nearing lunchtime we headed to Victoria Quarter.  We decided upon a café situated in the middle of the pedestrian walkway.  Service left much to be desired but the food was delicious.  I had a baguette filled with bacon, sweet peppers in a creamy sauce. 

Following lunch we headed back to the Henry Moore Institute but this time we entered thru the Library next door.  It was a treasure trove of art as well.  We viewed a show on Nudes, a selection of photographs and a maquette collection of Public Sculptures.  The exhibit, Drawing on Sculpture, we returned for is housed in the space between the Library and the Institute.  I found it unique but not as enlightening as I had hoped.  I thought based off the details that it would be photographs of sculptures where artists had modified the 2d in their quest to make their 3d work better.

At 2:30pm we were waiting at the Leeds Bus Station for Kristin’s other flatmate. She was supposed to have returned last night from a fabulous week in France but her holiday has been overshadowed by a series of unfortunate events getting back.  She was very happy to find us waiting for her when she got a very crowded National Express coach from London.

Back at the house I finished packing up my belongings so that Kristin could drop me off at the Leeds Airport to pick up my hire car.  At the airport, I filled in the necessary paperwork and was given the keys to a Ford Focus Hatchback.  I spent a bit of time situating my things b/c I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to get to my first stop, South Shields.  Kristin thought it could take up to three hours but I made it in around an hour and a half. 

I had not pre booked a B&B so I was glad that the one recommended was available, £25.  South Shields is an east coast resort with the typical funfair and the array of late night fast food choices.  I walked down to the seafront stopping to take a few photos of ruin in the distance.  Hungry I went towards the fair in search of dinner.  Anticipating grease I was not disappointed and ordered fish and chips.  I took my dinner down to the beach and ate it while perched on a lone rock.  It was windy but not cold. 

I continued walking the beach and double backed near a bar that looked like it would have been more at home in the Caribbean than here in northern England.  Due the clouds it was getting darker than I had anticipated so I headed back towards the hotel stopping to take some Arty shots at the funfair.  Crossing over the street I skirted a pond or perhaps a lake covered with swans.  I counted at least 60 and I am sure there were a few on the other side of the island I couldn’t see.  But don’t think clean white swans, these creatures could do with a good wash.

Before retiring for the evening I strolled down the high street.  It was lively for a Sunday night; lots of bars and mini casinos with people spilling out onto the walkways.  Part of me wanted to join them but I was beginning to feel the effects of last night’s lack of sleep.

Oddly, my room had a shower and sink but no toilet.  The room was very clean and modern even though it was a Victorian row house. 

Saturday, August 4^th    

I slept wonderfully, awaking only b/c of construction on some flats twenty feet from my window.  The bed was really comfortable.  I quietly got up and went down stairs to make a cup of tea.  While reading the newspaper I thought I heard Kristin stir so I made her a cup as well.  She had not and when I took it up to her she was still asleep- oops.

We did not make an early move but leisurely got going.  Kristin took me on a walk along the canal, the Leeds and Liverpool Canal.  It was a nice surprise hidden behind homes and shrubbery. At one part there was a Canal Boathome Park and in the opposite direction there were cows grazing- not at all what I was expecting.  All ages were walking along the banks and it was also used by cyclists.  Kristin picked wild blackberries for a cobbler she was going to cook this evening. 

We needed to return by 2pm to let her new flatmate in but I was starving.  On our walk back we did not come across any shops open so we hopped in Kristin’s Mini in search of lunch.  The deli she recommended was closed, and then we tried the chippie- nope.  We tried another and it too was closed so drove a distance and settled on Gregg’s, a chain pastry shop. 

Our afternoon was spent waiting on the new flatmate who finally arrived.  I was checking my email and making plans for my trip to Scotland while Kristin was showing him around.  At some point we went out to Asda to get more food and also so I could have a driving lesson.  I was grateful to have a go before picking up the car tomorrow.  It was weird at first to have the gear shift in my left hand rather than my right.  It wasn’t peculiar to drive on the other side though; it just made sense with the right hand drive. 

Again, Kristin cooked dinner.  I offered but she played the perfect hostess and let me be a guest.  Tonight it was a Thai Green Curry with haddock and prawns.  Boy was it spicy!  Tasty yes but very hot for me.  I added Crème Fraiche but still found it too hot.  The Blackberry Cobbler was delicious.  Over dinner we continued to catch up and we delved deep into the past and names surfaced I had not heard in years. 

Friday, August 3^rd    

Andy had so kindly secured us a private tour of the House for the morning at 10:30am.  We arrived earlier so that we could have a run around on the Adventure Playground before the public descended upon the grounds.  Great play area, fun for children and the child at heart. 

The head housekeeper unfortunately did not know about the scheduled tour.  She however did rearrange her morning and gave us an hour of her time.  It was an extremely informative tour.  We started out in the basement in the old kitchen, which had been

Jo dropped John and me off at the Grantham Station.  John was heading home to York but his train continued onto Leeds.  We had a coffee at the station café while we waited for the 2:10 train.  He had booked his journey in advance and I chose to wait as well since I wasn’t sure what to expect once I made it to Leeds.  Much rather stay here and chat with someone I know then hang about in a town I didn’t!  We mostly talked about traveling, where we’ve been and where we want to go. 

John departed at Doncaster to change for York but I stayed on for Leeds.  At the station I dropped my bag at Left Luggage, £5.50.  More expensive than at Victoria where I have left my luggage most recently.  I exited the station towards the main shopping area.  There were two items I needed- another t shirt and socks and I knew Primark would have them both and cheap.  For the essentials, Primark carries clothing along the lines of Target. 

Leeds is a cosmopolitan city with extraordinary architecture; a mixture of Georgian, Victorian and Edwardian.  The center is very much alive and this Friday afternoon was no exception.  Touted as the Knightsbridge of the North, it has some exclusive shopping venues such as Harvey Nichols and Louis Vuitton which are housed at the Victoria Quarter.  This enclosed mall is reminiscent of Milan’s Galleria. 

Kristin Morgan, a sorority sister, met me at the station.   When she was first in England she was living in Sheffield but moved to Leeds where there are more opportunities for Marketing Account Reps. I had hoped to meet her outside but when I returned to collect my bag, the Left Luggage office was closed temporarily.  It was great to see her; I think it has been about ten years.  She is no longer blonde but a brunette.  The color looks good on her even though it did take a bit of getting used to.  We stopped by Morrison’s to get supplies for dinner- tilapia and salad.

Dinner was good and I drank too much wine as we tried to catch up after so long.  Even with the length of time we still are similar and it was like we had kept in touch. 

Thursday, August 2^nd   

I was tired this morning and our task of cutting suckers was not intriguing.  I skived just a bit, walking around the garden.  I even exited the area by the Ha Ha and walked towards the Belmont Tower.  On my adventure I encountered a lone sheep that was not so sure about me.  I did not go far as the tower was a good distance away.

After the morning break, I joined Lindsay, Jo and Michael in the Italian Garden pruning back the Ivy and Prunus, much more rewarding than suckers and I didn’t have to bend down with my killer cramps. 

Having eaten my lunch at break I had Leek and Potato Soup in the Restaurant.  I have had more leeks in the last week than the last year, probably totaling more than my entire life.  I really like them.  While in line I chatted to the Superintendent of Belton House and the National Trust District Manager.  The Super recognized me from this morning when they popped into the Pavilion to thank us for our support of the Trust.

Following lunch I started to feel human again.  I drove the buggy, collecting refuse and dropping it off at the bonfire enclosure.  But this time the fire was still smoldering from the others efforts yesterday.  Jacqui and I initially struggled to get a flame but eventually resorted to throwing dried grass on to the pile which did the trick.  Jacqui, Sarah and I spent the afternoon picking up lime suckers and grass and dropping it off at the bonfire.  It was a nice ending to our few days at Belton House.  However my clothes reeked.  I had forgotten how nasty one could get; my last real bonfires were during my Centenary days.

Our evening comprised of a long drive back to Clumber, quick showers and then out again to the Angel Inn for dinner.  I had lamb chops that were a disappointment to the braised lamb I had last week in Wimborne.  We were not a lively bunch at all.  Sarah took off to drive home after the meal but just after Michael took a few shots.  I got everyone’s email so I could email out the photos from our holiday and possibly keep in touch.

Wednesday, August 1^st   

Same morning routine as yesterday.  Our morning was spent in the open space of the gardens moving straw bales acting as flood control to be used as mulch in shaded areas.  The second task was the pruning of the Lime trees, or Lindens as they are known as in the US.  I was given buggy rights so I drove around picking up the debris and dumping it at the bonfire enclosure.  I enjoyed the time alone with intermittent contact. 

In the afternoon, Lindsay, Jo and I cleaned two stone urns in the Dutch Gardens.  The urns were made of sandstone like the house that was quarried about 6 miles from the estate.  Over the years, the containers have been damaged by acid rain and algae have taken quite a hold.  David, the House and Collections Manager, demonstrated how to remove the algae using a simple soap and water dosing along with plastic tools and a denture brush.  I asked him how long it should take and he thought 1 hour per urn. 

After an hour I had completed about ¼!  Knowing we had a Garden tour at 4pm, the next hour I was less thorough.  Lindsay and Jo worked on the other urn together and nearly finished it along with the pedestal.  Part of me wanted to stay to finish the task but my desire to learn more about the gardens won out.

Fred started the tour near the original gates in the cutting garden and orchard behind the Orangery.  The Orangery is located where the original house stood before the young Sir John Brownloe built the larger Carolean country home now know as Belton House.  This structure contains an exotic collection of plants that was popularized during the plan hunting days.  The Orangery fronts the Italian Garden.  The garden, though formally correct is yet a bit on the garish side, most likely inspired by the Victorians who ‘englishised’ the Italian Garden with the introduction of bright bedding plants.

In the Dutch Garden, Fred explained a fascinating story about the Iron bed edging.  As the story goes, during WWII the straight pieces were removed for use in the war effort.  The circular sections remained.  At some point, the lost segments were recast based off the proportions from the original circular pieces.  I don’t think I have ever seen thick iron edging before but it is effective as it truly becomes a design element delineating the beds and surrounding turf cleanly.  

Leaving the formal gardens we walked through the lawn areas but not the naturalistic landscape of the parkland.  I was surprised to see a catalpa as we toured the arboretum.

Back at the base camp I prepared the pork roast for dinner.  Yesterday when we bought it we had planned on cooking it and then serving it cold but I guess we forgot!  After getting the roast in the oven I started in on the leeks and swede.  Lindsay, a vegetarian, and I ‘danced’ around the small stove; luckily it had two ovens.  John helped enormously with the roast potatoes, checking on the pork and also as another set of eyes.  I really hadn’t planned on cooking for 11 so I appreciated the assistance.  Jo prepared the rice pudding.  Not downplaying anyone’s involvement, it was the Lara and John’s show and the meal was a success!   

Tuesday, July 31^st  

We were up at 7:30am for an 8:30 departure.  I had breakfast, weetabix, and then made my lunch.  It was a beautiful morning and it didn’t look like we would get any rain.  Before arriving at Belton House we had to travel almost an hour from Clumber Park.  I sat at the back of the 12 person minibus with John and Ian.  Ian is a landscape gardener in London so his view of Landscape Architects is tainted.  I assure him that even though I was a designer I had practical installation experience as well.

On arrival we were introduced to the Warden, Chris, and his assistant, Chris.  They first explained the Park duties, Lazy Dogging: removal of thistles from the parkland to reduce the number of these ‘weeds’.   Each prickly plant has to be removed and the area by the river of course was not treated with an herbicide, hence the activity.  The other choice was to work in the gardens- I chose this option half hoping I wouldn’t have to experience the other later. 

Those working in the garden met with Fred, the head gardener, who explained the morning’s tasks.  There were two locations were Ivy needed to be pruned: one very prominent location, on the wall separating the stables from the Italian Garden, and the other on the back of the wall near the original gates to the estate circa 1650’s.  This area is enclosed by a simple wooden fence.  In addition to the Ivy there were also a few Horse Chestnut’s that needed lifting.  I started in on the trees first however later joined in on the ivy pruning after our mid morning break of tea and cake.  First on the ground but eventually up on a ladder.  Great views into the garden!  I also drove the yard buggy.

            When it was lunch time I wasn’t tired just hungry.  We lunched outside on the open lawn sheltered by mature trees.  The sun was beating down which was a nice change from the overcast days of late.  Since the summer holidays had begun on Friday and the weather was nice, the estate was brimming with mothers and children; a few fathers but not many.

            The afternoon was spent in the field lazy dogging.  We used quite a nifty contraption with a forked prong that when kicked into the ground around the thistle was then lifted upwards removing the thistle and its long taproot.  The task as a whole was satisfying but since I knew it was pretty much pointless it was difficult remaining positive.  In order to accomplish the goal, totally eliminate thistles from the area, the field must be thoroughly turned and not hand picked as we were doing.  Sensing dissatisfaction I tried to get our minds off the task at hand and talk.  I asked the question “What was your worst job?”  The topic did entertain us a bit and also allowed us to learn more about each other.

            When it was time for the afternoon break, Andy informed us that the other group decided it wasn’t necessary and we would not be returning to the Cricket Pavilion.  The news was not taken well with anyone.  It displeased me for many reasons: 1- knowing we would have a break got me thru the first part of the afternoon, 2- I would have liked to have had a say, and 3- I hadn’t brought enough water for the afternoon.  Andy realized that this was not a popular decision so we took anyway by a felled tree near the field.  It was a very quiet break.  Bob, who never seemed to be at a loss for words, went off on graphic designers and the design industry which really topped the afternoon.  Thoroughly disgusted with his narrow mindedness I was the first to return to work (to work out my frustrations).  On the return journey I was unsure of the holiday’s future.

               After dropping off most everyone at the base camp, Andy, Rachel, Ian and I went to Sainsbury’s.  Ian needed oil for his car since he had been called back to work unexpectedly.  Two of his team had accidentally cut thru a pool line.  Rachel, a celiac, needed some gluten free foods and I was running out of sparkling water.  In addition to the above mentioned items we also purchased some food and wine. 

Back at the base, Tony and Lindsay were orchestrating Toad in the Hole.  Explaining this delicacy to Michael, the French student, was quite entertaining.  Don’t think he ever really got it.  For dessert there was a berry/meringue/cream delight.

Monday, July 30^th  

I missed my bus to London.  I had hoped to save a bit of money by taking the bus to Victoria Station and then taking a train from King’s Cross to Retford.  But instead I spent more money because I had already purchased the bus ticket and now had to buy a train ticket from Pompey to London Waterloo. 

The story really starts out a week ago when I was researching train tickets.  I had two choices to get up to the Working Holiday, train to Retford or coach to Worksop.  Always being overly conscious I wanted to make sure I had exhausted my choices so I didn’t purchase the ticket when I could have got a train ticket from Pompey to Retford for £25.  The next day a single went up to £74.  It is crazy in a country where the government preaches the use of public transport that train ticketing prices are so disparate.  The trains will run whether there are twenty or two hundred passengers!  Not being able to get to go by bus to Worksop and arrive at 7pm when there was a pickup Retford by train was my only option.

From Waterloo I took the tube to King’s Cross and a train into Retford.  The group leader, Andy, and his mate Tony met me at the Station.  Also waiting was Michael, a French student also on the holiday.  It was a bit of a distance to the Clumber Park Base Camp but we spent the time getting to know each other.  When we arrived, Bob, another participant was waiting.  We settled in and then unpacked the groceries as others arrived.  Dinner preparation began for our first group dinner of Shepard’s Pie.  Overall the group appears to be a good mix.  We got to know each other further over dinner and then later at the Angel’s Inn and Pub in Blythe.

Sunday, July 29^th  

Today we traveled along the coast, the Jurassic Coast.  Driving towards the Isle of Purbeck, not an island but a peninsula, we were going to visit Corfe Castle.  Unfortunately, the castle was covered in scaffolding.  It was a classic moment as with yesterday’s tractor tale, John’s face was priceless.  Instead we continued driving along until we reached Studland where we parked the car to walk out to see Old Harry and his Wife, two chalkstacks in the sea between here and the Isle of Wight’s own, The Needles. 

Across from where we parked was a pub.  We lunched here and I had a Cheddar Ploughman and a half lager shandy.  We did not eat inside but rather out on one of the many picnic tables that littered the lawn.  I think we got there at a good time because it wasn’t crowded however when we left it had really filled up. 

Our drive back was not a reverse trek instead we took the chain ferry over to Sandbanks, which has one of the highest land values by area in the world.  The beaches are considered world renown and many a celebrity have a home here.  Since the weather was nice the area was packed with sun seekers.

From here we drove through Poole and then up to the Badbury Rings, an Iron Age Hill Fort.  We walked around the inner of the three concentric circles close to 4pm, when it seems the wind does pick up.  Since they have had a lot of rain recently, the ground was mushy.  Linda had spotted native orchids a few weeks ago so we tried to find some but weren’t very successful in our search.  John ran into his Latin Teacher from school.  On the way back down to the car park the cows had ventured closer and I was able to get a few shots though they didn’t amount to much.

Following tea, John kindly ran me back to Gosport.  I was very appreciative especially after my many delays on the journey up. 

Saturday, July 28^th  

At 10:30am we were off to Stourhead, covering most of northern Dorset in the process.  The countryside was idyllic- it was overcast with mist rising from the ground.  Not dense but the type that you get after a rain.

At Stourhead, we walked the grounds first.  There were many more paths that what I remember studying.  What most surprised me was that the connection to the house was almost nonexistent.   (Must read up on why)  The temples and follies I easily recall, if not their purpose.  Rhododendrons and azaleas dominant the understory so it is a spring garden.  Linda said it is glorious then also with the daffodils. 

Other plants that were prevalent included: laurels, magnolias, Lebanon cedar and various species of beeches.  However the beeches are being cleared not only for views but also due to disease.

John and Linda had a little treat since we were able to tour The Pantheon.  Open only in the summer, they only visit in the spring.  Imagine a 1900’s version of Rome’s original housing statuary and relief sculpture.  More form familiarity than true likeness.  Dome, though similar, did not appear to be 360 degree like original.

The garden is viewed from many focal points (some clearing is needed) and is a nice walk.  Truly a journey, you never know what you might stumble across or what’s along the path.  I enjoyed the Rock Grotto which contained white marble sculptures that literally popped in the dark environment.  Additionally it provided glimpses back across the lake. 

Church bells rang out whilst we traversed the garden.  On the grounds there is a chapel, larger than one would imagine for an estate this size more for a village.  Today it was being well used for weddings.

After touring the garden, we had a lunch of fruit scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam at the National Trust café near the car park. The Trust is known for having great food and this fare did not disappoint.   

We walked over to the house, first by passing through a walled garden for veggies and fruit but also housing a Pelargonium (Geranium) House.  The current one, from 1998, was installed to help re establish Richard Colt Hoare’s 19^th century collection.  Entering this way we bypassed the Gatehouse however we did see it before walking up the tree lined lane to the Palladium Mansion.  The façade of the house was not as significant as the photos had depicted.  The stone color and texture seemed to blur in this light unfortunately.  One had to be careful walking up the main staircase as the porticos ceiling stone is falling off.

Only the lower floor rooms are open to the public due to a provision of the home’s bequeath.  Henry Hugh Arthur Hoare allowed for one relative to reside at the family home even though it was to be under the guardianship of the National Trust.  At present, Miss Audrey Hoare occupies the upper two floors of the house and also uses one of the rooms on the lower floor as well.  This room is well stocked with spirits and has a flatscreen that looks out of place amongst the Georgian treasures. 

Even though the mansion was completed in 1724, most of what you see within the home is from the early 1900’s due to a fire in the late 1800’s.  The home itself was not significantly damaged although the interior suffered smoke damage.  The library was large and contained quite a collection.  This room had views of the remains of a formal garden and then out into the distance to the Obelisk.  Linda, John and I decided that they weren’t very inventive with the landmarks’ names: Obelisk, Grotto, Palladium Bridge, etc.  As with many homes the Naturalistic Gardening Movement of the 18^th century eliminated formal gardens enveloping the homes bringing the greater landscape to the house.  Since the gardens were designed by an ‘amateur’ and constructed at a time when the movement was in full force I have yet to verify what transpired here, was it the movement, was it the fire or were the gardens ???  There is however a lovely hydrangea walk separating the house and the paths that lead into the woodlands.  With such a formal house one would expect that there would be axis walks but there are none.

After the house we walked out to the cattle grazing not far from the Obelisk.  Returning towards the house, the farm land was abruptly cut across by a Ha Ha.  I looked for a bridge to cross but there was none so we had to walk back the way we came and entered the gardens thru a walk that would lead us to believe this is how the family would have gone as well.  I really have my doubts though, it is way to steep and it would have taken too long.  Totally guessing here, I think a carriage would have taken a route from the stables and the gardens would have first viewed from another location.  Purely surmising

There is a nice restaurant/pub on the grounds as well as an art gallery.  The gallery has some nice pieces, a lot of watercolors, but they were a bit large and a bit expensive for a traveler.

 From Stourhead we drove to Shaftesbury to see the Gold Hill.  A much photographed, steep cobble lane with an abbey retaining wall on one side and quaint cottages on the other.  You have probably seen it but just don’t realize it- I had but hadn’t!  Exceptional views of the surrounding landscape were seen from here and also from just outside the abbey’s wall.  There was also a lovely garden.  We walked through the village, hardly any cars.

On the way back to Wimborne, John mentioned that we would take a road that was quite ‘tight’ and it is not one where you want to run into a tractor.  Well, not only did we run into a tractor we ran into a tractor with a trailer followed by another car.  They of course could not back up.  Where’s the film crew?

We had dinner reservations at The Olive Branch in town, it used to be the Dormer’s and it is where Linda and John had their wedding reception.  Today it is a hip Italian influenced bistro and bar.  An eclectic mix of Italian, English and a few other countries cooking styles.  We started out with Rustic bread which gave us a smile as that is the word that I had used to describe the road leading up to their home.  The meal was fabulous!  Linda and I had the Braised Shoulder of Lamb on a bed of creamy Mash Potatoes.  It will be a meal I will remember for years, it was that good!Being a trendy spot, Charlotte and Colin arrived later for drinks.  While Colin and his Cricketing buddies conversed about the unfortunate loss, Charlotte joined us.

Friday, July 27^th  

The National Express coach to Poole was delayed- with all the road works it could have been on or off the island.  Due to the delay we then had to have a driver limit stop in Bournemouth for 45mins before heading to our final destination in Poole.  I tried to get on another bus into Poole but it never arrived so I eventually gave up and I walked around Asda, the English Walmart.  Walmart purchased Asda several years ago but this was my first visit.  Very similar: George clothing which is apparently a British line, the annoying price cut signs and just way too much stuff. 

(The school holidays have just started yet construction on the roads has also just gone into high gear.  I don’t understand why the busiest time for people to be traveling corresponds with the most road repairs???)

My journey continued back on the original bus to Poole and then on to Wimborne on the Wimborne Flyer.  Charlotte and Amy picked me up at 4:30pm so I was only one hour late.  At the house we chatted until Linda and John arrived.  Laura came thru at some time. 

The evening passed quickly.  For dinner it was Linda, John and I- ate chicken for the first time in 5 years and did not have any side effects.  Afterwards we caught up; Charlotte and her fiancé, Colin, stopped by.  A discussion on Cricket ensued as John is the Director of the Wimborne Cricket Team and Colin is Team Captain.  I remember visiting Auntie Joyce, John’s mum, and the entire dining room table would be covered with baking- afternoon tea for the cricketers.  The table with all its leaves displayed an amazing assortment of sweets.  All which were off limits to me!  But there was always a Coffee Cream Sponge so I never went without.

Thursday, July 26^th  

It was a blustery day with few boats sailing by.  At times the rain was horizontal and I lost my umbrella in a massive wind/rain storm- lost in that it no longer resembles an umbrella.  It happened when I left for a few hours to bank a check and buy a few items for next week. 

I spent most of the day preparing to visit family in southwest England for the weekend and a trip up north for the one National Trust Working Holiday that I was able to get on, Belton House.  While I am up there I will also visit Kristin Morgan, a college friend, who is living in Leeds.

Wednesday, July 25^th  

At 4:50am this morning Mark’s alarm blasted through the flat.  He did not turn it off immediately but eventually did hit snooze.  Again I was awoken by the music, this time I was fit to be tied.  I yelled out ‘Mark’, but nothing happened and the music continued.  Thoroughly annoyed I jumped out of bed swung open my bedroom door and starting knocking as loudly as possible of his door.  A tired mumble of something clued me that he was awake. 

Another day teaching, high moments and low.  The class clown returned today and was a complete nuisance again.  Today I figured out early why he acts out: despite the fact that he can speak English well and comprehend he cannot read or write well.  His outbursts were always when the students worked individually on assignments.  I gather to compensate for his lack of skills and also to hide his embarrassment he acts out.  Yes, I do have a degree in Psychology as well.  He lasted in the class for just over an hour till it was time for him to go if the others were to learn anything. 

At lunch I spoke with the Director about expelling the trouble maker and why I felt he did not need to be in this class.  The young man had been to the Director and told him that I kicked him out of class for speaking Arabic.  If only the Director could be a fly on the wall.  He requested that I accept the student back into class for the afternoon session.

The afternoon session was not well attended b/c Saudi Arabia was playing Japan in the AFC Asian Cup.  There are five students from Saudi in the class, the trouble maker is one.  With four students you can do so much more and I prefer smaller classes.  We conversed mostly about everyday issues and then finished up playing Taboo which is a favorite game.  I got paid as well today so that is nice! 

Back at the flat, it was quiet!  The first time in I don’t know how long.  I was to have the place to myself for tonight and all day tomorrow.  Mark is working up north and Gazza is off to Dartmoor for a few days vacation.  Since Mark has moved in it is constantly noisy whether it is the T.V. or him chattering away on the phone.  He does not like silence.  Additionally he acts as though he is the only one living here and has rearranged several things to his fancy.  I could go on but I won’t- glad I could vent a little though.

I enjoyed the aloneness and watched two episodes of House.  Tried to blog but found it hard to get started since I haven’t written in so many days. 

Tuesday, July 24^th  

Mark got up earlier than normal though after turning his alarm to snooze twice.  The volume is on full blast.  Unaware I might need to get up as well and use the bathroom he went about as though he was the only person in the flat. 

After yesterday I was unsure whether the teaching gig was for me.  Today, however, it went fabulously well.  The trouble maker did not make an entrance and the students were very attentive and contributed at ease.  I could not have asked for a better day.  During the prep time after lunch, the Director asked if I could teach tomorrow since the teacher was still sick.  It would give me less time to write but more money in the bank so I agreed.

Once class ended, I wandered down Commercial Road to do a bit of shopping.  It had been such a nice day that there were people still milling about.  At the ferry, I even saw families returning from the beach.  Now it was not that warm for me but with the weather we have had I can understand the day out even if I wouldn’t have participated given the chance.   

At the flat I sensed people were there but it was on the quiet side.  Gazza surfaced first.  He was preparing for a short trip to Dartmoor to see his girlfriend’s son graduate from the Naval College.  Mark was packing for a business trip.  I reheated left overs from Sunday and actually got to watch telly, first time in weeks.  My time alone was short lived as Mark soon finished and began his normal routine of talking on the phone and smoking out on the balcony.  He likes the leave the doors open and also his bedroom window.  I am beginning to think he does not ever feel cold.  The sliding door does not close from the outside so every time he goes out to smoke it eventually drifts in and the flat now retains the unpleasant stench.  I really hate cigarettes.

Monday, July 23^rd  

I awoke early today unsure how long it would take me to get to the college.  I left the flat around 8am and was outside waiting at 8:45am for my 9am start.  Students gathered around chatting and smoking.  At 9am I went inside to meet with Victoria, the teacher I would be teaching for tomorrow, and to see how she prepared for the day.  I was greeted by the Director with a request to teach today since Victoria had called in sick.  Sure, why not?  He showed me the class record which vaguely described what had been taught last.  I reviewed Victoria’s notebook hoping she had prepared today’s lesson.  There weren’t any notes but I found some photo copies which I hoped were meant for today. 

At 9:30am classes were to start.  Students continued to arrive up until 10am.  I started off by introducing myself and also by having them answer a series of questions so that I could get to know them and also get a grasp on their English.  It was going well until a very curly headed Middle Eastern arrived.  It is amazing how dramatic a situation could change by the appearance of one individual. 

At 12:30pm classes were dismissed until 2pm.  I walked down along Guidhall Walk to Commercial Road to get something hot to eat.  It was cold and rainy today, in total contrast to the beautiful day we experienced yesterday.  People were walking about in winter coats and even leather jackets.  The rain was that annoying kind- not really hard enough for your umbrella yet still managed to make every thing wet..  Using an umbrella was pointless mostly because of the wind, it just blew inside out. 

At 1:30pm I returned to prepare for the afternoon session.  We were to use the time between 9-9:30 and 1:30-2 for class preparation so all in all we worked 7hrs daily.  The afternoon class is smaller since not all students attend both sessions.  At some point I started to feel sick: shivering and sniveling.  Even though the second session went well I was ready for 5pm.  It was raining quite hard now and I was glad to get back into the flat.  By 8:30pm I was curled up in bed. 

Sunday, July 22^nd  

I didn’t rush to get up today; my only set plans were to attend the Southsea Art Show which was to be held down on Palmerston Road.  The show was a series of booths down the center of the pedestrian street of Portsmouth’s second major shopping center.  The art showcased, was a mixture of finely executed painting (oil and watercolors mainly) to photography and jewelry to almost naïve pieces.  I enjoyed the watercolors of a local artist and the oils of a painter who mostly painted dogs. 

A few shops were open, Laura Ashley being one.  Unfortunately the linen trousers I had my eye had sold out. 

Since I have been away I have craved black beans.  I perfected a recipe before leaving Dallas that used the beans as a main ingredient.  In Spain I had seen dry black beans but I didn’t purchase them.  Mum had suggested I try Waitrose, a high end grocery store, since they carry a variety of goods.  Entering the store I felt like I was in grocery store heaven.  Before getting a basket I surveyed the aisles.  Black Beans!  I grabbed a basket and started filling it with the ingredients I needed: black beans, brown rice, whipping cream, sour cream, fish, tomatoes, garden onions and lime.  I had cilantro growing at the flat so I didn’t need that for my salsa.  The thought of this meal made me very happy!

With all this food, some perishable I made my way back to the ferry and across to Gosport.  Surprise surprise when I got back the place smelled of smoke and two t.v.’s were blaring away even though Mark was only watching the one in the living room.  I put the food away to cook later and retreated to my bedroom.  At some point Mark closed his bedroom door, an indicator that he was most likely taking a nap; an indication that I might be able to sneak some time outside of the confines of my room.  I jumped at the chance.  In the living room I switched on the telly and watched my new favorite show Grand Designs.  The episode featured a couple building a somewhat self sufficient complex.  They were building this almost completely by themselves.  The house was pentagonal with straw bale walls and the inside wood work was constructed by the husband. 

Dinner was delicious!  The only thing that would have made it better would have been someone to share it with.  I feel quite isolated right now and wish I could be closer to my family and friends.

Saturday, July 21^st   

In the evening I attended a free concert at Victoria Park in Portsmouth.  It was ‘Opera in the Park’ featuring five singers from London’s Opera.

Friday, July 20^th  

Today was research day.  Research job opportunities and also research travel plans for my upcoming trips to Wimborne, Lincolnshire and Leeds.  

I made a call to a language school, Spinnaker College; I had emailed my resume to concerning their need for part time ESL teachers.  At noon the Director called and scheduled an interview for 1:30pm.  I quickly got ready and actually arrived at the college with plenty of time to spare.  I was a bit concerned since there are major road works being done on the island that are causing some road headaches.

The interview went well and I was confident after hearing about the position that it was something I would like to do.  We agreed that on Monday I would observe and then Tuesday I would substitute for that teacher who would have the day off.  I explained that I had prior arrangements for two weeks and that didn’t seem to bother him.  I have a job! 

Thursday, July 19^th  

Christine left for Gatwick at 6:30am.  With that early start, I occupied my time by having tea at a café across from the hotel.  I soon decided on breakfast as well when the smell was too enticing.  I managed to ‘waste’ just over an hour. 

I retraced my steps that I had made yesterday back to Victoria Coach Station to leave my bag at Left Luggage.  From here I walked up Buckingham Palace to . . .

Wednesday, July 18^th  

Next installment

Tuesday, July 17^th  

Next installment

Monday, July 16^th  

Next installment

Sunday, July 15^th  

Next installment

Saturday, July 14^th  

Next installment

Friday, July 13^th  

I slept in a bit this morning and spent too much time packing.  I hit the internet hoping to learn that the house had sold- no word.  It was already quite warm when I left the hotel, after leaving my luggage with them for the day since my flight wasn’t until late afternoon.  My first stop was to verify the location I needed to pick up the bus transfer back to the airport this afternoon.  Easily found, I walked down the Gran Via to an area I had not walked before.  Not much that caught my eye so I went back along the other side and then into the Cathedral. 

I had read that the Cathedral’s size is deceptive from the outside due to its cramped position amongst the areas other buildings.  It is deceptive.  Inside it is a towering building- massive columns scatter the space.  Upon entering, which is not the main entrance; it takes a moment to get your bearings.  When seen off the main axis as the architect intended the cathedral layout is quite typical. 

My neck hurt from looking up so much!  The ceiling is very high, perhaps to high.  There was a contrast between the elaborate carved pieces, both wood and stone, and what seems to be cast concrete.  At first glance, the cathedral is extremely impressive but on further inspection it is not so much.  The exterior however does not appear to have been compromised.

After exiting the cathedral I thought I was heading towards the River.  The church I saw in the distance and presumed was one was in fact another.  Off course I saw a site I wouldn’t have, the Monastery of St. Jerome.  The chapel/church was phenomenal.  Every patch of wall was decorated, but decorated well.  Words can’t describe the awe I felt- I only hope my pictures capture the space.  The Cloister was filled w/orange trees, Clementines I think.  Sweet Jasmine clung to the walls and was starting to climb up the columns.  There were a few visitors but I was able to visit each room usually by myself.

I walked back to the Gran Via to sample the region’s non alcoholic specialty, freshly squeezed orange juice.  Then it was time for another regional taste, a doner or stuffed pita.  It is very similar to a gyro.  I had lamb, lettuce/cabbage, sour yogurt, beetroot, and tomatoes toasted.  Sadly, I would consider this my first real meal in Spain.  Everything else I have eaten has been along the lines of a snack. 

I sat under a tree across from Plaza Nueva and watched the comings and goings.  There was a fountain here and many people stopped to fill up their water bottles, drink directly from the spouts or drench their head from the water in the basin below.  Tourists wandered back and forth, maps were addressed. 

Nearly 3pm I returned to the hotel to check my email one last time and prepare to leave Granada.  At 3:45 I was waiting for the bus which arrived on time at 4pm. 

Thursday, July 12^th  

How I did not want to get up!  I have yet to acclimatize to the Spanish way of living, up late, eat late, and stay out late.

I had to get up early b/c I had a morning entrance into the Alhambra.  What made it difficult was that it was too late last night to go to the mini market so I didn’t have anything to eat except a few cashews.  When I am tired I find I have to have food to get going.  At the reception I asked about where I might find food, would something be open near the Alhambra?  They didn’t think so and said it would be very expensive.  Down by the Cathedral I found a Tabbachio open fro water and a café bar for a chocolate pastry. 

I had hoped to catch the bus from the centre but for fear of being late I walked.  Yesterday the lady at reception had said it was an easy 15 minute walk.  Easy NO!  15 minutes if you regularly climb mountains perhaps.  Okay, maybe I was tired and I know I definitely needed protein.  So far I have noticed the diet here is a lot of starchy carbs where I am used to eating lots of fruit, veggies and protein.

At 8:30am I was in line to pick up my reserved ticket, reservations had been made via my hotel.  The time I was scheduled to enter Nasrid Palaces was 9-9:30 and they are sticklers on this time issue.  Thanks to my friends Rob and Doug for the great hints! 

To say this complex is large is laughable- it is huge, enormous, gargantuan . . .  When I studied the Alhambra in grad school, I did not differentiate between the main part of the site and Generalife, the gardens.  Actually perhaps I did then but with all the information thrown at us I just don’t remember.  The palaces are elaborate.  At the time of construction they were thoroughly colorful.  Now most of the color has gone from the intricately carved stonework of Moorish design but the vibrant hues remain on the mosaic tiles.  Details from floor to ceiling but oddly not overwhelming though I can imagine I would have found it so when first constructed.

A disappointment was the Court of Lion’s, it was under renovation.  We were taught that this was one of the most important courtyards in the palace. 

From the Nasrid Palaces I walked a short distance to the Palace of Carlos.  The palace is a true Italianate design of a square with a circle within.  Housed within the palace is the complex’s archaeological museum and also an art gallery.  In the museum there is an exhibit on the Court of Lion’s.

With the morning gone, I hit the gardens possibly at the worst time with the sun beating down.  In order to get to the gardens you must walk along one hill onto another as it is across from the palaces.  From this side, they appear to be a series of terraces. 

The gardens are peculiarly kept.  Some are immaculate (or near enough) where others are completely neglected.  The first gardens are a collection of enclosed spaces formed by pruned evergreens creating also gateways.  Through the center of the space is a linear fountain punctuated at two places with small circular basins. 

Continuing upward, you stroll through more gardens until you reach Palace Generalife.  Inside this structure is one of the most photographed courtyards, it is an image that must be etched in my memory and I had began to think I had missed it since I had not seen it.  I wonder how many people get too tired and don’t see it?  This one space made the day.  It is not that the other spaces are important or equally beautiful it is just that this courtyard had it all.  The placement was great, the shape was comfortable and you could choose to enjoy the enclosure or take advantage of the fabulous views of Granada.

Wednesday, July 11^th  

Not wanting to go through the multiple changes of the Metro and possibly be late to the airport I took a cab, €30.  A delay in Madrid caused the plane to be 15 minutes late but it wasn’t an issue since the bus transfer to Granada waited on the plane.  I was dropped off in the city center feet from the Cathedral.  From the map I could tell my hotel wasn’t very far.  I chose the hotel because it was near the Alhambra and also b/c it had received great reviews.  The exterior was quite impressive and the rooms were comfortable though not lavish. 

It was almost Siesta time when I finished checking in and settling in so many places were closed or soon would be.  The Real Chancilleria was near the hotel and I had read was open till 2pm so I hit it first.  When I attempted to enter I was told I couldn’t.  At first I thought maybe there was a language barrier but no, a guard who spoke English stated firmly only officials allowed. 

I then walked the Realejo barrio.  Tiny streets opening up into large plazas, very old architecture sandwiched between newer construction.  The highlight was walking down an angular yet curving street hearing the piano being played from one of the open windowed rooms at the music school.  I leant up against a church and listened.  I also discovered that Oranges were planted as street trees here.

Feeling the afternoon heat I retreated to the cool alleyways in search of a Tapas bar.  I chose the Central Café located in a tiny thoroughfare close to Plaza Nueva but not in it b/c I thought it would be a bit cheaper.  It wasn’t.  I ordered an Alhambra Reserve 1925 cerveza and a Caprese Salad.  The salad was for protein and the beer was more appealing than red wine which might give me a headache in the warm weather. 

Street vendors were around but not a nuisance.  My table was a great place to people watch.  The amount of dreads and short Mohawks is surprising- dreads especially in this hot climate.  Also interesting is the fashion.  The attire has not changed; it is the same hippie druggie style that I saw ten years ago.  Granada is a haven for hippies and many flock here to live simply in the hundreds of caves amongst the hills.

A guitarist and flutist are playing somewhere in the background.  It is one of those movie moments and begs the question ‘Where is the film crew?”. 

The food and drink made me sleepy so I too took a siesta.  I awoke around 7pm slightly groggy.  Before venturing out I checked my email, still awaiting news of the house sale.  I stopped at a mini market for yogurt and juice which I hoped would tie me over till dinner. 

I started to the climb up to Mirador San Nicholas- it was supposed to be the place to see sunsets.  Bill Clinton is said to have remarked that he saw the most beautiful sunset from here.  What I did not know until it was too late was that it wasn’t now it was in September or October when it should be viewed from San Nicholas.  So I missed the sun setting but did get some interesting shots later. 

The square was alive with tourists and the local vendors out to make some money.  The singer of the guitar duo was one of the afore mentioned.  She carried the guitar face up soliciting.  When I replied ‘No comprende’, to her pleas she insulted me in both English and Spanish.  I thought, but didn’t say, ‘You are free to play your music’.  I sat on the plaza wall looking over to the Alhambra.  As the night progressed lights began to turn on and from this distance the site is so impressive.  I can’t imagine what it will be like tomorrow when I visit.

When darkness really descended, I began the walk down through Barrio Albaycin.  There were tabernas and restaurants hidden amongst the streets.  Zig zagging down, I came across a Y with dramatic scenery: the Sierra Nevadas were glowing with the set sun behind.  At this junction, sitting on a wall overlooking the city was a guy and a cat.  I tried to take a few shots, my Elph was most successful this late and I think I got an interesting shot of the cat in motion.  The guy and I started to chat.  Jan, half German half Greek, was just finishing a year in Granada.  At 26, he was returning to Berlin to finish his studies in Law.  As an avid traveler we had much to speak about.

The conversations turned to food and Jan invited me to join him for tapas.  In Granada tapas is ‘free’ when you order a drink.  Though the variety we might find at a Tapas restaurant in the US is not generally found here gratis.  Our first stop was under one of the original gates to the city.  We sat outside with great views but the road was so close that every time a car went by we had to wait to continue speaking.  The second place was on the street leading into Plaza Nueva across from Central Café where I had eaten earlier.  It was a rather eclectic cavernous setting with medieval paraphernalia covering the walls.  We went to Jan’s favorite for fish but the kitchen had already closed for the evening so we tried a place I think Rob recommended with lots of dried meat hanging above the bar. 

At each place I had a tinto, red wine mixed with sprite, and tapas.  The first two places served small ham sandwiches and potato chips whereas the last offered potato salad and olives.  Had we enjoyed a second drink at any of these places, we would have received a different choice with each additional drink.  For my first tapas experience it was great and I am glad I had a near native to show me how it is done.  I was able to soak up the culture and environment and see three totally different groups of people enjoying this custom.   

Tuesday, July 10^th  

Ferry then train to Bournemouth and bus to airport to start my journey to Spain.  Bournemouth Airport is barely an airport.  I flew Ryanair to Madrid.  The plane departed late but arrived on time.  Madrid Airport seems massive compared to Bournemouth, four spread out terminals.  I took the Metro into the city, changing three times along the way.  My hotel, Petit Palace Ducal Chueca, was located literally just off the Gran Via and located a short distance from the same name station.  Great locale.  I dropped my bags and started exploring.  I walked down the Gran Via to the Plaza de Cibeles to the Puerta de Alcalá to the Parque del Buen Retiro.  The walk through the park was dramatic.  I had read about it but certainly did not comprehend the size nor the extensiveness.  Ornamental planting beds overflowing in vibrant colors stretching for 100’s of feet.  Parterres and maze like hedges covering large expanses.  The Grand Lake, anchoring the Monument to King Alfonso XII, is where most activity seemed to conjugate.  I chose to leave the park and headed towards Museum Prado.  I would have gone in but the guards told me I had to leave my bag at the bag check- too much camera equipment to do that. 

I entered the museum near the Botanical Garden per Rob’s suggestion and like he wrote it wasn’t crowded as the main one was.  I decided against visiting the garden’s, partly from Rob’s comments but also because there was a woman creating quite a kafuffle and not letting anyone else buy a ticket.  So I walked back to park.  At the lake I sat at a umbrella covered table, eating a sandwich and drinking a beer.  On the water, there were row boats, kayaks, a crew team and even a large pontoon boat.  I think this one was a bit much for such a small body of water.  After eating I headed towards the Palacio de Cristal, based off London’s Crystal Palace.  On the way, I passed by

Monday, July 9^th  

Again, I awoke at a decent hour!  I fear though this trend will be disrupted tomorrow by my travels.  I spent the morning blogging since I have neglected this of recent.  Dark clouds rolled over the harbour- fortunately no rain fell early on but the late afternoon was a different story.  And I hear we are in for a few days of storms so good thing I am off to Spain! 

I have been putting off having a haircut.  Lucy, my hair stylist of four years, has spoiled me and I didn’t even know it.  Gazza suggested the shop next to his since a few of the girls who work for him get their hair cut there.  Two weeks ago I stopped in but they were too busy so today I tried again.  After probably over explaining how Lucy cuts my hair the young girl started cutting away, nothing like how I had just explained.  From the front and sides it did not look too bad, not a Lucy cut but . . . My hair was still wet when I left so I guess I did not examine it well enough.  Off I went to Pompey to run a few errands.

At the Gun Wharf, I picked up shopping where I had left off yesterday.  In Monsoon I tried on a pair of linen trousers in a dressing room that had two mirrors.  Trousers were a no go and so I realized was the haircut. 

Back across in Gosport I visited the saloon for the second time today.  The girl who had cut my hair had already left for the day but the manager listened attentively while I described the situation.  She asked whether I wanted a refund or for her to tidy it up.  Being that I am leaving tomorrow I really wanted it tidied up.  I hadn’t sat down long before she told me that she would also give me my money back since it was such a ‘terrible cut’.  It now looks okay but I want Lucy! 

Sunday, July 8^th  

Finally, I awoke at a decent hour feeling good!  I was up having breakfast at 8:30am and enjoying the fact that it looked like another sunny day.

Before lunch I had done a load of laundry and gone to Morrison’s for a few groceries, though as I write that seems days ago.  I had some lunch and looked at Portsmouth News Online to see what events were on for the day.  The listing has all surrounding cities as well as Portsmouth so there were a lot to choose from.  The one that caught my eye was a fortification tour of Old Portsmouth. 

Being such a glorious day, people were out in droves.  The ferry was packed and there were people at all the bus stops at The Hard station.  And most seemed to have either been to or were going to shopping at Gun Wharf.  I walked through as a short cut over to Old Portsmouth. 

20 minutes early for the tour I bought an ice cream off one of the ever present vans dotting the seafront in warm weather and found a seat up on the Hot Walls.  I was surprised to find a place to sit with all the crowds.  There were sail boats galore and I imagine most hadn’t been out in several days.  One thing I did notice this afternoon that I hadn’t a few weeks ago were the amount of French students.  They were everywhere and quite noisy to boot. 

Just before half past two I walked down to the Square Tower to meet for the tour.  No one in sight but right on the dot a man appeared from one of the Sally Ports.  At first I thought I would have a private tour however a couple and a man joined us after the tour began.  The guide, Mike, was very good and went beyond only discussing the fortifications.  He really knew his history and supplied some great images to help us understand how this area had changed.  I was most intrigued by the original extent of the city- I had not realized that it occupied only a 2 mile radius at the lower western section of the island.  Although the island has been inhabited for centuries, since the Roman times it is documented, the settlement flourished under Richard The Lionheart in 1194.  The Anglican Cathedral, though enlarged many times, started out as a village chapel in 1181.  Additionally, most of the fortifications have foundations dating from the thirteenth century.   And the sea moat brick walls predate Henry VIII.  The tour lasted 1.5 hrs and was well worth £3!

I wandered back via the Spice Island and though the camber into Gun Wharf.  When I had walked through earlier I had noticed lots of sale signs.  With my limited clothing I was in need of a few cooler weather choices and also bottoms.  Let’s just say all this walking has done wonders for my lower half.  With less than an hour to shop I was able to pop into a few shops but not many; however I did buy a pair of well needed jeans.

 Back at the flat Mark was watching the Wimbledon Men’s Final which pleased me since I really wanted to catch the tale end.  I cannot watch too much of Nadal with all the noise he makes, actually I usually mute him when he is playing but I handled it this afternoon.  As you know Federer took the match which was a nice end to an interesting two weeks of tennis.

Saturday, July 7^th  

The luckiest day of the century started out early!  To catch the 5:50am coach into London I had to get up at 4:30am.  I was at the ferry at 5:15 realizing only after that the ferry starts running at 5:30 on the weekends.  The coach service up was uneventful however the driver did tell me a frightening story:

On Friday a Middle Eastern couple boarded the coach with a return ticket immediately to bring them back from Heathrow.  Thinking it must be an error he questioned them about their itinerary.  They said they were taking some luggage to a friend who had left it by mistake.  As soon as the bus was on its way the driver called police and the bus was pulled over soon after leaving.  The couple were questioned, the luggage investigated and they were driven off.  The ‘luggage’ turned out to be a large bag of fertilizer.  We are living in a very scary time.

At Victoria Station I took a train to Hampton Court via Clapham Junction.  Since we had arrived in London early I had nearly an hour to kill before the show opened once I made it to the palace.  I walked around what grounds were open to the public and down along the river.  The Thames, very tight here, was lined with boats- mostly canal style thin ones, and fishing tents.  On the upper path, runners ran past and cyclers tried to avoid walkers.  

Around 9:45am those waiting were allowed to start queuing.  The Daily Mail had free newspapers so I read that as I waited.  Enclosed, there was a write up on the Tour de France Prologue which I hoped to catch later in the day.  I also read about how ‘ungreen’ the Live Aid Concert was going to be.

Inside the flower show took up a section, 25 acres, of the Hampton Court Park.  Most of the marquees and show gardens were set east of the Long Water.  Not encumbered by space as the Chelsea show was, Hampton Court Flower Show rambles on.  For me it is too much- I much prefer a smaller scale.  Additionally, I found Chelsea to be for a different class- designers versus gardeners.  It was very evident in the show gardens and also in the booths.   Even though this show was larger I did not linger and quickly saw what it had to offer. 

After lunch I strolled through the royal gardens.  The formal lawns punctuated by sculptural yews create appealing vistas to and fro the palace and back out into the park.  It was a sunny afternoon and these plantings along with an allee of large shade trees kept my garden stroll enjoyable.  Viewing the Privy Garden mid day is not advisable but I did not have an alternative and I was thankful for the clouds that occasionally shielded the sun.  The garden is large and elaborate; it is one to amble in with many vantage points.  Probably could do with a few more benches. 

I exited the garden from the rear and walked past the orchards towards the Banqueting House, William III’s escape.  Set overlooking the Thames, this two roomed structure provided a get away from the Palace (as if one was needed).  Also on the Thames’ side, the two pond gardens are visible.  These gardens are rather intimate spaces enclosed by hedges where you can imagine ladies in large dresses ‘taking a turn’.  At the base of the palace façade is the newly re constructed Lower Orangery Exotics Garden.  The long lean space is inaccessible and not much to look at from afar.  In the far end of this series of gardens, tucked away in a Victorian iron greenhouse is the famed Great Vine, the world’s oldest and largest grape vine. Intriguing but I rather enjoyed the scent of the wisteria that covered the entrance.  It seems so weird to see it in flower since it was blooming in Dallas in April and then in May in Italy and now July in England.

  I wandered through the rest of the grounds before heading back through the Show intent on getting into central London to catch a glimpse of the Tour de France Prologue.  After a short wait at the station, I climbed aboard a train with a few hundred also ready to go.  At Victoria I exited to Buckingham Palace Road to try to secure a spot along the race course.  Even though the area was packed with onlookers I was able to get a view in several spots and even a great position along the rail just outside Buckingham Palace.  I have never been to an event like this and didn’t know what to expect.  Each rider was first escorted by police on a motorcycle and then followed by two cars, one carrying extra bikes.  Some riders were taped by a camera man on a motorcycle riding side by side.  And each time a cyclist past the crowd it was customary to clap and cheer them on. 

As tired as I was I am glad I was able to experience a little of the Tour de France.  I know it does not compare to the riders whipping around the bends of the Alps but it is still exciting to see them ride past some of the world’s best architecture and monuments.

Friday, July 6^th  

It was a windy day but not rainy which was well needed.  I had not seen my great aunt and uncle in a few weeks so I ventured over to Portsmouth for a few hours to visit them and take care of a few errands.  Before walking to Fratton I stopped by the library to print off my receipt for the Hampton Court Flower Show tomorrow.  I also reviewed the selection of guide books for Spain.  It appears that there must be quite a few travelers from this area in Spain since most of the books were checked out.

At Auntie Mary’s I accepted the proffered tea and biscuits while we chatted about the last few weeks since I had returned from Greece.  She enjoyed my ‘Acting debut’ story and was pleased that I was doing so much.  Uncle Keith was feeling the weather today and shortly retreated upstairs; I too had a few allergies.  My visit lasted about an hour. 

Back in town I stopped at a temp agency to enquire about working.  Since I carry a British passport I will not have to fill out any governmental forms and can begin working as soon as I choose.  That’s good news, now all I have to do is find a job I want to do.

At Wilkinson’s I picked up sunscreen and a travel adapter for my English appliances.  This will be my second one to purchase since I left the first in Greece.  I needed a new sketch/notepad from WH Smith’s as well.  My plan was to sketch on my travels but I have done far more writing and note taking than drawing.   

The flat was empty when I returned and I was able to continue research on my trip to Spain.  With such limited time in each city I want to maximize my time by setting an itinerary before I leave.  But as every seasoned traveler knows, one must allow for modifications.  Time certainly flies when you are surfing the Web.

Since I am off early tomorrow to London, I had made no plans to go out and had anticipated going to bed early.  Thanks to the party in the complex, I stayed up most the night and got very little sleep.

Thursday, July 5^th  

Even though I had decided on Spain yesterday I had not booked any arrangements.  I spent the better part of the day arranging my travels and researching hotels.  With limited time in each city it is imperative that you ‘know’ the city before booking hotels.  You’ve got to keep in mind that an airport might be miles away from the city so transport in is as important as where you stay sometimes. 

For this trip I will fly into Madrid and spent the first afternoon and evening there before catching a plane to Granada the next day.  Because of this I have chosen a hotel right in the middle of Madrid, surrounded by the famous Parques and Plazas.  I could have saved a few bob by staying further out but the financial savings won’t equate to the additional time I will gain touring the city.

Wednesday, July 4^th  

I slept in a bit this morning after my delightful excursion to London.  The wind was blowing a gale and the rain was beating down on the window- bed was the perfect place to be! 

With the weather being so wonderful I had decided I needed to escape to the continent for sunshine.  In all the travel magazines and through my internet surfing, Turkey kept popping up as the place to go and specifically Dalyan.  In this region there are rivers, beaches, mud baths and Lycian ruins.  I was even able to read a family’s blog about their adventures.  Heart set on this region I made a ‘Request Availability’ booking on lastminute.com and then waited.  Unfortunately my request was denied however a similar trip was available at almost double the cost of the original.  The agent was apologetic and tried to find alternatives but the airlines had increased prices this morning due to it being high season and also the raised security level.  I also searched for flights only and could not find one less than £300!

With Turkey not a budget realistic option I started looking into other areas I might want to travel to.  I still want to travel to Venice for the Biennale, the French Riviera and of course a slew of other places but I was constricted by time as Christine, a college friend, would be working in London the week of the 15^th and I wanted to be back to spend some time with her.  Running thru Ryanair’s website I found a £60 flight to Madrid and knowing Madrid was the Spanair’s hub I decided I would visit Madrid, Granada and Bilbao.

Mark, my new flatmate, orchestrated an evening out for the three of us to Fareham.  Fareham is not what one would call a clubbing haven but it was close and did not involve a ferry as transportation.  Wednesday night is the night to hit the Chicago Club where cover bands light up the extremely small stage.  We got there around 9pm and it was virtually dead but the crowds crept in until it was packed solid.  The entertainment for the evening was Dirty, a Christina Aguilera act. 

Prior to the performance the music was a mix of danceable tunes and entertainment was provided by a Down’s man in his twenties who was a great dancer and a 30 something guy who looked like he was in the navy.  The navy guy danced rather suggestively and I thought at one point he might rip off his pants and transform into some ladies’ birthday surprise!  On the other hand, the man with Down Syndrome was having a fantastic time and the crowd loved him.

The main act was comprised of three ladies, the Christina ‘look-a-like’ and two back up dancers.  They appealed to the young male audience but not so much to everyone else.  The singer sang over Aguilera’s vocals and the three made more costume changes that appeared necessary.  I don’t think I will go and see them again.

Tuesday, July 3^rd 

I did not set the alarm for too early but early enough that I would be able to enjoy a full day at the Tate Museums.  The last time I spent an extended time in London Tate Modern had not opened yet and I have been anxious to see it.  Housed within an abandoned Power Station, it is an excellent example of adaptive reuse.  The current exhibit occupying the lower two floors Global Cities looks at the changing faces of ten international cities.  Highly fascinating- I would recommend it to anyone visiting London this summer. 

For the best part of the day I wandered through the many galleries.  The collection is varied, from well known to obscure.  My favorite space was the Kinetic and Optical Art gallery, a mix of sculptural pieces.  Wouldn’t mind having those hanging in my house that is when I have again.

From the Modern I took a water taxi up to Tate Britain to see a Turner exhibit curated by Hockney.  Turner’s watercolors amaze me.  As a trained architect, he has such an eye for detail yet most of his small pieces are carefully undetailed.  

Monday, July 2^nd Evening

Exhausted I came back to the hotel with no set plans.  I picked up a copy of the free London Paper to read and help me decide where to go.  I was feeling a bit depressed about being in this great city with a primo hotel and not having anyone to go out with.  The horoscope in the paper, no lie here, was titled ‘Should I go out tonight?’.  And after reading it I knew I must. 

I started off slowly down Piccadilly towards Piccadilly Circus, taking in the lights.  From here I was diverted down Haymarket (unknowingly) till I saw Tiger Tiger and the traffic cone that has been photographed so often in the last few days.  The cone seemed to mark the spot where the now infamous green metallic Mercedes car bomb had been left.  No one seemed phased.  People walked by the spot and I am sure many were unaware of its significance.  I debated taking a picture and I am still unsure as to why I didn’t.

Back on Piccadilly I walked down to Leicester Square.  The square, even though it was raining, was very busy.  People were milling about, some darting into restaurants and others viewing the theatre listings.  I later found out that the latest Harry Potter release was taking place in one of the area’s theatres and that might account for the unusual number of bystanders. 

Firmly set on my walk I turned off for Trafalgar Square.  I was interested in seeing Nelson’s Column at night.  What I didn’t realize was that this was to be the Opening Ceremony site for the Tour de France.  Even so, scaffolding and seating aside, it was quite impressive.  The rain on the streets made the night lights magical.  I kept thinking as I shot, hope my pics turn out!  From here I took a few shots of the Admiralty Arch and in the distance was Big Ben.     

Down Whitehall I traveled, never once feeling alone or unsafe.  For a rainy Monday evening, now nearing 10pm the streets had their fair share of pedestrians.  At Downing Street I spoke to the four heavily armed guards guarding the entrance to the Prime Minister’s residence.  I do remember a time when you could walk directly past with only street police outside and they were probably unarmed at that time.

Westminster Palace or the Houses of Parliament are fantastic at night all lit up- I know my photos don’t do it justice.  It was here I stopped and went deep down into the bowels of Westminster to take the Jubilee Line back to Green Park.  Even though I had walked all that distance, Green Park was only a stop a way.  Back in the room near 11pm, I made a cup of tea and wrote about this invigorating ending to the day.    

Monday, July 2^nd

My 5:30am wake up call was not needed as I woke up at 5am.  Check in was at 7am at Simpson’s-in-the-Strand, next to the Savoy Hotel where filming was to take place.  In the movie, the Savoy is supposedly New York’s Carlyle Hotel.  From my hotel I took the tube from Green Park to Charing Cross and then walked down the Strand to the restaurant.

I checked in, ate a bacon baguette for breakfast and then went through to costume check.  We were asked to bring a few clothes choices; however the dress I wore to Royal Ascot was my main choice.  The designer liked it as well.  Hair and make up was next and I was okayed as is except for touching up my eyes.  As I was in line though I noticed there were some that really needed help- guess I didn’t! 

Check in was in the upstairs ballroom of Simpson’s and this also doubled as the waiting room.  I had a cup of tea as I waited for further instructions and chatted with the other extras.  The film Made of Honor features Patrick Dempsey as Tom, a guy in love with an engaged woman (Michelle Monaghan), who tries to win her over after she asks him to be her maid of honor. 

At around 9:30am I was asked to follow a crew member as I had been selected to be one of the main characters stand-ins.  The actress I was standing in for was Busy Philipps- you may know her as Hope Bobeck in the current season of ER.  Also in the scenes shot today was Whitney Cummings and Emily Nelson.  Patrick and Michelle had professional stand ins, James (?) and Amy (?) who couldn’t have been nicer- actually pretty much everyone was great.  Eventually even Busy warmed up and actually thanked me.

So began my acting career!  I worked as a stand in and a background extra all day.  Now for those who haven’t experienced this before, as a stand in you have to be available during the entire day of shooting and as a background extra you have to be ready to reshoot or reset every time the scene is shot which basically was all day as only one scene was shot.  Same scene shot all day repeated multiple times, from multiple angles, focused on each actor/actress. 

  The work was tiring but it definitely had its advantages.  Not only did I get to work with the actors, even if we didn’t speak, I also have the possibility of being in the film, if only as a blur in the background.  Another advantage was ‘having’ to be in the same room with Patrick shirtless and a rare glimpse into his personality when the harpist was playing and he walks past smiling and saying ‘Makes me want to run naked through the Tea Room’.  I can assure you this wasn’t actually said to anyone in particular especially not me.  Sadly he did not mix well with others and really only became animated when acting- such a disappointment.

 After the actors called it a day there were a few additional scenes to be shot.  The harpist had her multiple shots from multiple angles which was quite relaxing for me.  I sat on one of the comfy couches as I was not needed for the background and listened as she played.  I love the sound of the harp and I find it extremely relaxing to watch it being played.  The relaxation was quickly taken away as the lost action was the sound record of tea cups.  I don’t think many of these people have actually had tea in a tea room- the clanging was comic. 

Just before 7pm we finished so almost a 12 hour day.  I had stood for a majority of that time and my Via Spiga’s kept my feet happy.  I won’t become an advertisement for them but I find all their shoes to be amazingly comfortable.

Back at Simpson’s I changed into my street clothes and ended my acting day.  Phenomenal experience and one I won’t easily forget.  Now I just have to wait till May 2008 to see whether I made the cut. And the money wasn’t bad either; £190 paid for my hotel for two nights in London.  Now if I could just get a few more jobs like this one.

Sunday, July 1^st 

Today’s delays were no fault but my own.  I had the alarm fro 8:30am with the intention of getting the 10:30 bus to London.  While packing I ‘lost’ my diamond right hand ring.  I had to find it- I knew it was somewhere in the mess of the closet, just where?  After taking every item out of the closet I remembered where I had ‘hidden’ it before my Greece trip.  Found it but it was too late to catch the bus.

A bit frazzled I checked the internet for both bus and train schedules and then proceeded to reverse the times.  Also, I checked for concert tickets online and via phone.  No luck.

Did the usual: walk to ferry and then ferry to train station.  I caught the 12:32pm train to Waterloo and from Waterloo took the underground to Green Park for the Holiday Inn Mayfair.  The first building I eyed as I entered back out into daylight was the London Ritz.  I was staying in a very posh area.

My hotel was just down from Piccadilly on Berkeley.  I checked in but they hadn’t received the documentation from lastminute.com so I had to print off from the concierge desk (I don’t have a printer at the flat).  It took a bit of time but I was still in good shape.  When I got up to my room I dropped my bags and headed back to the tube in order to get to Wembley Stadium.

Wembley is a distance from the heart of London.  The station, Wembley Park, appears to have been renovated in conjunction with the new stadium.  Once off I descended the stairs and followed the masses to the stadium.   I now have no fear of being ticketless for events.   

I had walked half way when an American woman asked if anyone needed a ticket.  She sold it to me for £60; £45 was face value however she had purchased it thru a hotel concierge.  I willingly agreed but when I went to pay her I realized in my haste I had left my cash back at the hotel.  A scalper tried to purchase it but I told her I would get cash from an ATM when we were inside.  Laurie (sp?) was an attorney from San Francisco, traveling over here for a few weeks.  Slightly overweight and struggling with a bad knee, she persuaded security into letting us bypass the long line.  This was nice and all but Duran Duran opened and we were still trying to get to our seats.  Inside we had to go down a lift in order to enter Wembley suite even though our seats were upstairs.  The seats were just off center in the first row above the pitch.

Saturday, June 30^th

Friday, June 29^th

Thursday, June 28^th

Most of the day was spent writing query letters to publications.  I would really like to get into travel writing and photography; unfortunately it is not an easy market to enter.  Editors receive hundreds of requests monthly and most go unread.  This exercise is not for the impatient as I have read that you must continuing submit queries if you have a chance of getting a foot in. 

I also received a ton of emails from my blog is updated email.  I really don’t want to loose touch so it was nice reconnecting.

Wednesday, June 27^th

I am really going to have to get my body back on some sort of schedule.  This staying up and getting up late lark is exhausting.

This afternoon, I watched a bit of tennis, saw commentary on #10 Downing Street changing of hands (unfortunately not parties as well) and finished updating most of my blog.  Yea!  A huge accomplishment!

Tuesday, June 26^th

Highlight of the day: Henman Moya first round continuation.  It was a tight match, players equally matched.  When they suspended play last night it was 2 sets all with 5 games all in the final set.  For today’s play the back and forth continued, each winning the games they served until Moya made a few errors with Henman winning on his seven match point: 13-11.  Yea!

Gazza and I went out for dinner, over to Portsmouth to the Gunwharf.  There were many choices- including Mexican, Italian, Seafood and American.  Gaz had his stomach set on Frankie & Benny’s, a New York Italian restaurant.  Just think Bennigan’s or Chili’s.  I had ribs which rivaled some I have had in the States.  The atmosphere was lively with an array of tunes and parties of mid 20/30’s enjoying themselves.  It is still a bit foreign to take a ferry to go to dinner or out.  For many though this is really just part of their daily life.  I can’t imagine having to do this in the dead of winter.  It was cold tonight at 48 and spots of rain.    

Monday, June 25^th

There were patches of dry periods throughout the day.  During one, I snuck out to Gosport High Street.  At the local gallery an exhibit ‘The Ancient Greeks: Athletes, Warriors and Heroes’, featured highlights from the British Museum’s collection.  I had passed it many times but thought it would be good to finally pop in seeing as I had just been in Greece.  The gallery was empty, besides the guard, and I spent a good deal of time reading the descriptions.  Mostly pottery with a few marble relief’s, it was a good selection.  I learnt a few things as well that had puzzled me when I was in Greece. 

One was the mixing of raki or ouzo with water; it has been done for centuries and began with wine.  Made me recall a business meeting my father and I were having in Brno 10+ years ago where wine was served with water.  At first I drank out of courtesy but soon realized that it was best not to drink at all as they topped up with only wine.   The second was the use of bronze.  We have all studied the Bronze Ages and know a little bit about them but for me I didn’t realize the disconnect when it came to sculpture.  Marble was not the material of choice for sculptors, bronze was.  Marble had to be quarried, usually from great distances, contained many flaws and was extremely heavy- among other things.  Bronze on the other hand lent itself to animated, larger than life, heroic sculpture.  However, bronze was a valuable commodity that could also be melted down and reused when ancient civilizations were (poor) at war.  Hence the lack of sculpture seen today in collections. 

While I was out I also stopped at Morrison’s and wasted some time browsing through some Charity Shops. 

For me, June is a busy month.  My mother, June was born in June.  My maternal grandmother also had a June birth date.  Summer officially starts in June and towards the end of the month is Wimbledon.  I had forgotten how wonderful it was to watch a match live on the BBC.  In addition to the matches, there are all the behind the scene shots and the usually fun loving banter between the commentators.  John McEnroe and ??? were not a good mix though. 

Britain’s young hopeful, Andy Murray, pulled out last night due to a wrist injury leaving veteran Tim Henman, the country’s only real hope.  Henman, at 32, is not considered a hopeful.  But after his showing against Carlos Moya of Spain today, he may well surprise the tennis fans.  Play had started late as a result of rain and continued well past 9pm due to both players’ stamina.  Sadly for the viewers, play was suspended.  We will just have to wait till tomorrow. 

The match was refreshing, two talented players playing good tennis.  No Pete Sampres or William’s Sister powerfully eliminating everything in their way.  Tennis the way tennis should be played; and excitement, with neither player overshadowing the other constantly.  I am anxious for tomorrow’s continuation.

Sunday, June 24^th

Gazza and I went to breakfast at a café in Lee-On-Solent, west along the coast from Gosport.  For those who have traveled the coastal towns of New England, this area has a similar feel but without all the junkie shops.  And for those who have really spent a lot of time there especially when it gets dark and dreary, then you will truly be able to imagine what it was like today.  The Isle of Wight was still visible but . . .

The rain continued for much of the day and at times the harbour was very foggy.  Now, as dusk settles in, the low lying clouds are almost touching the masts of the ships.  It has been in the 50’s all day and is expected just to dip a bit tonight.  Virtually the same forecast for tomorrow, though I hope not.  After two days cooped up here I am ready to walk somewhere, anywhere.

Fox sighting: 9:25pm, single.  Running across the lawn with dinner in its mouth.

Saturday, June 23^rd

Lazy Saturday morning, sky’s going between cloudy to sunshine.  Now it is windy, rainy and thundering.  My intention was to go to Gilkicker Point to watch the finish of the Round the Island Race, which is touted as the world’s largest and most famous yachting race.  I have never heard of it, which is not saying much, but there are over 1,600 boats sailing.  I had hoped to walk along the front the two miles to the point and get a few shots, however I think I will stay put inside the dry flat instead.  But it may pass???

Rain didn’t pass, only got worse.  And it is forecast to be rain through midweek- I’m crossing my fingers it will end earlier. 

Friday, June 22^nd

Had a really good night sleep!  Woke up to pouring rain so I curled back up and before I knew it, it was 10:30am.  Today’s agenda included shopping at Morrison’s since I had virtually nothing to eat, doing laundry, catching up with emails, blogging and downloading photos.  I have done what I set out to do- yea.  I even applied for a photography position at the National Trust so keep you fingers crossed.

Thursday, June 21^st

My journey to Royal Ascot started with a ferry across to Portsmouth and then a train to Clapham Junction in London in order to pick up a coach transfer.  I have now become accustomed to some sort of delay and this morning was no exception.  A train, not mine, had been eliminated from service which caused my train to add stops but not all at once.  After getting off at Haslemere to change for Clapham, the train I was on added Clapham.  A bit of quick maneuvering and I was back on the same train but on a different car, a very crowded one at that.  Had a nice chat with a man who overheard my woes, he used to work for BA in Asia.  I mentioned Moffat Enterprises connections with taking kids to play soccer in Europe and that at first we only flew BA.

Made it to Clapham on time (supposed to be there at 9:45am for a 10am departure) and then played the waiting game as the coach was delayed due to several accidents on the A3.  I had chosen to take a planned excursion for two reasons, one I had never been to Ascot and two, b/c on Ladies Day tickets are scarce.  Basically I couldn’t get a ticket without a package deal.  Once on the coach, we waited for a few stranglers who got lost at the station.  They couldn’t find the rear of the station, granted it is a rather awkward space but… Close to 10:15am we drove off.  On the ride to the course I reviewed the days racing and looked to the experts picks of the day.  Gambling, let alone Horse racing, is slightly alien so I needed all the help I could get!  I chose my horses and read some of the Racing Post for other suggestions. 

On arrival, at noon, we drove into one of the many coach parks where dozens of others were already parked and unpacked.  Tables, chairs and ladies in their hats (men as well, mostly bare headed) scattered the lawn of Lebanon Cedars. Towering Oaks were also prevalent in this section of Windsor Great Park.  In my package, each guest received champagne, wine, lunch, strawberries and cream, and other various refreshments.  Champagne was first, and did it flow.  I was surprised how many glasses some of the ladies had and seemed hardly intoxicated.  For about the first half hour I huddled close to the coach, since it was blowing a gale, and spoke with a lady who was temporarily on her own.  Di was meeting up with her family who were traveling in from Bournemouth.  (My maternal grandmother was from Bournemouth and my mother spent childhood holidays there.) 

After Di left to meet up with her family I joined a group of ladies who I had previously spoken with.  One of them was a hat designer and had made hers and her sisters; I had meant to get a photo but didn’t.  Lunch was served: a sampling of sarnies, quiche and other savories.  If you wanted wine you had a few choices in reds and white.  Finally strawberries and cream, an English delight and right in season.  The ominous sky decided to downpour as I was getting my nicety and then we all ran to the cover of the coach. 

It was nearing 1:45pm and I had read that you needed to be close to the rail if you wanted to get a glimpse of the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh for the 2pm Royal Procession.  Umbrella in hand, I walked the short distance to the Silver Ring Enclosure.  Now what I had not researched before attending was that the Silver Ring was for the common of the commoners.  I thought it was a step up from the General Admission but it is actually the other way around.  Most people had had enough to drink so they weren’t really bothered to see the procession.  With that being said I still don’t think I picked the best possibly location.  My photograph isn’t very telling either.

The first race was at 2:30pm so I proceeded to the Tote Betting Caravan to make my first bet.  The line was thick with people scouring the race book, most looked about as confident in their choices as I did.  I was the last one to put money on this race, Winkler Watson.

After every race I made another bet ( 3:05 Cosmodore, 3:45 Yeats, 4:20 Artimino & Colorado Rapid, 4:55 Kid Mambo & 5:30 Eradicate) and spent the time in between walking the ring.  In one area there was a cover band under an enormous marquee.  The perimeter filled with food and drink caravans; anything from traditional fish and chips to even Mexican.  Another marquee, smaller, housed a regimental band.  Tote betting caravans and individual betting kiosks littered the lawn, as well as more libation stations.  The weather continued to be temperamental- clouds, rain showers and then brilliant sunshine.  Luckily the rain was not torrential and the ground just became soggy not muddy.  I was wearing my too cute Via Spiga’s with leather soles so I was pleased since I did not want to ruin them.   At the fence dividing the Silver Ring from General Admission I was able to get a few good shots of the new seating and also of the racing.  Great people watching!  After a while, though, I did get a bit bored and tired.

At the finish of the last race, it was a mad exodus.  I knew I had to be back on the bus by 6pm but some of people had to have driven- right?  And for some of their behavior, all I can say is that it is amazing what people will do when they don’t think others are watching.  Due to some accidents and the known traffic nightmares on the way back to London, our driver took a very long and convoluted way into the city.  Even I knew we were a bit off the track, especially when I saw signs to Portsmouth.  Honestly I wasn’t really bothered since I just had to get a train again.  Clapham to Woking, Woking to Portsmouth Harbour, Ferry to Gosport and walk to flat and I was home.  Somewhere along the walk I unfortunately caught my second wind.

All in all it was an interesting day; however I would do things differently if I went again.  First thing would be to secure a place in the Royal Enclosure.  You can actually purchase entries so it is not unrealistic just expensive.  Disappointingly the hats I saw were mostly store bought and I saw plenty of the same.  I would have loved to seen spectacular designs like the newspaper photos suggest but again I think the Royal Enclosure is where these are seen.  Was it worth the money?  Yes & No.  £134.10 or $268 (Ferry- £2.10, Train- £42, Package- £75, Hat- £25)

At the races I did win and I did lose, but I only lost £3 overall: 2:30 Winkler Watson Tote Each Way £4 won £10.20, 3:05 Cosmodore Tote Win £2 lost, 3:45 Yeats Tote Win £2 won £5.80, 4:20 Artimino & Colorado Rapid Tote Win £2 lost, 4:55 Kid Mambo Tote Win £2 lost & 5:30 Eradicate Tote Each Way £5 lost.  It would have been nice to win, one lady on my trip won £216 and another £170. 

Wednesday, June 20^th

Arrived 1:35 am at the flat so I had a bit of a lay in.  My plan today was to get prepared for tomorrow- Ladies Day at Royal Ascot.  For a bit of history on the racecourse click here.  I had the dress and shoes but needed a hat!  And an umbrella since it is supposed to rain.  Umbrella easy, hat not so much.  First I stopped at Gunwharf, but there weren’t any hats to be had.  However, Burberry was having a massive sale so I did pick up a pair of shades and a beige pashmina wrap cardigan.  Next I hopped a bus to town.  I had a few choices at a small number of stores but I wasn’t sure what would be appropriate and I just kept going store to store.  Finally, I made up my mind on one that is not much of a statement however I feel good in it so at least I’ll be confident.  Day gone, shopping for a hat.

Fox sighting: 6:35pm, single.  Lying in the evening sun and stretching out.

Tuesday, June 19^th

I did not sleep well, it was hot and I kept waking up.  At one point, I heard an alarm- like an alarm clock.  I checked every electronic device (GPS, SLR, Point and shoot, and mobile) but no.  Then I opened the shutter to let some more air in and sure enough, the noise was outside but what it was and where it was coming from I don’t know. 

Despite my sleepless night I made it breakfast, this my last day in Crete, joining Emma and John.  I had decided that if I could get a reduced rate on the car for the day I would head to Knossos.  I could so I did.  I did not really want to see it but thought I had since it was of such significance.  My resistance was due to all the guidebooks suggesting that the development had been ‘creatively’ reconstructed by Evans. 

In every sense of the word, I was a tourist today: reading the plaques (halfheartedly) snapping tons of probably meaningless pictures and following the crowds.  Hopefully I will get more out of the images then I did touring the site.  Check out this site for the top ten sites to see at Knossos.  

The remainder of the afternoon was spent visiting Andres who presented me with a bottle of homemade raki, swimming and preparing to leave.  Even though the trip started off rocky and the accommodations were questionable I enjoyed my time in Crete.  Now I am ready to sail the Greek Islands on a catamaran.  Any takers? 

Monday, June 18^th

I was supposed to meet Emma and John for Breakfast at 9:45am but they did not make it.  We had made plans to go out today to explore the unknown Crete but I switched back to my original plan and hired a car instead since they weren’t quite ready.  Going solo and driving for the first time in a month was great!  Almost.

I made it to the Melidoni Cave no problem.  There was only one other car when I drove into the parking lot.  I entered the cave alone.  There was an indiscernible noise, first thought bat but it was only a pigeon.  It was eerie being in the cave alone; the sound of dripping water and the cooing of pigeons and my footsteps.  And the only lighting was four spot lights.  As you will see in my photos not much to shoot- I was expecting much larger and many more colors, something like Carlsbad Caverns.  Okay maybe that’s a bit aggressive but . . . As I was leaving the crowds appeared.

I drove around the area, snap happy where I could.  Taking pics of goats, bee hives, citrus trees, cemeteries, etc.  I toured an Olive Oil Factory.  The tour led by Joanna, who had lived in Alabama for several yrs, was so informative.  She explained the entire process and allowed me to ask tons of questions.  Her plant processes for 400 farmers in addition to her family’s 2000 trees.  I met her parents; her Dad is quite a character.  He asked me if ‘I was on their side or his’.  This is one I had been asked in so many ways recently.  GW is not overly popular in Europe. From photos, you will see the present factory then a press used circa 1870’s in a stone building and also a press outside where the stones are over 400 yrs old.  Right now it a slow time, ‘watching’ the olives mature, but January thru March is chaotic.  The factory sells olive oil and honey which did make it back to England unlike the oil from Villa Aldobrandini.

Back on the road, I attempted to find Perama and I figured out quickly just how bad the Crete road system is.  Little towns are marked but not big ones.  Maps show straight roads but most have multiple switchbacks.  Some signs only in Greek, my maps were all in English.  Sorry Paul but the GPS unit, even with the Europe maps installed, had no maps for this area.  However I could tell my speed in MPH and at least know what direction I was heading which was extremely helpful given the amount of turns made. 

After failure to find Perama in order to turn off for Margarites, I stopped for lunch and to ask directions.  Great directions- stay on this road (which appears straight from this vantage point) all the way through Perama (which I was in!).  The road round all around and no sign to Margarites as the lady stated.  I did see one sign eventually that was in the right direction so I took it and somehow I made my way.  Margarites was not as quaint as my research had suggested.  However I remembered there was one potter highly recommended: Peter, Petros, Nikos!

When I entered Nikos’ shop he was throwing a salt or pepper shaker like none other I had ever seen.  It resembled a sea urchin when set on a table but has innards that contain the salt yet when shook allows the particles to shake out.  I was fascinated watching him create one.  The inside is constructed first and then the clay is brought up around the center.  Of course I had to have one, but I did ask Nikos which design was his favorite and then chose accordingly.  Definitely check out the photos.  As I was taking a few shots a swallow flew very close to my head.  The birds had made a nest on one of the beams and had young.  After paying for my shaker, €6, I asked Nikos what else I should see in Margarites.  I wasn’t interested in traipsing around a ton of shops, I wanted to see the best and be onto my next adventure.  He told me to exit the town up to the mountains, go 800 meters and on my left in an old stone building I would find Manolis, the last of the old potters.  At 82, he did not rely on electricity to power his wheel or kiln. 

When I walked into Manolis shop, you would have thought we were long lost friends.  He shook my hand and gave me a hug jabbering away in German even though he had established I was English.  The workshop was archaic- dirt floor, exposed stone walls, roof sloping precariously and no electricity at all, not even for lighting.  Manolis showed me photos of his work, in books and postcards in places around the world and his diplomas, before the actual work in the studio.  Every time he picked up a new piece he would bang the side of it w/a pebble- “Very tough very tough” he would repeat.  When I got my camera out he jumped for joy, exclaiming “BBC, BBC”.  I gathered that the BBC had been here to shoot a segment.  He marched me out back to see his kiln and to show me the process.  When I remarked on the kiln, in broken English/German he told me that his father and grandfather had used the one to the right, the one in disrepair.  It was interesting half hour.  He even wanted to know “where my man was?  And why I had no children?”  My German is terrible so who knows what I told him.  I bought a two wicked candle pot for €4 and tried to leave.  He wasn’t having any of that but eventually I did manage to get away.  I have just spent the better half of an hour trying to track online info on him but there isn’t much besides trips to the area. 

From Margarites I drove up the mountain in search of ‘Unknown Crete’.  I encountered tiny roads, hairpin turns, and villages built for horse and carriage.  There were fascinating views, deserted towns and many photo opportunities missed b/c there wasn’t a pull over anywhere in site.   I had read about the many deserted villages scattering the countryside of Crete and I passed one that I was able to access so I turned back around.  Deserted yes but recently spruced up without compromising its authenticity.  I was happily walking about, shooting away when I came face to face with a fiercely barking dog.  Fortunately it made no movement in my direction and I was content to leave swiftly.

Continuing upwards, sometimes by going down, I wove through the landscape.  Lots of olive groves and plenty of ravaged land, land that had supplied a product but was now left open.  Also, concrete block after concrete block of half completed homes.  I am still not sure whether they were under construction or left to ruin.  Emma, John and I had decided that the richest person in Greece owned a concrete factory and the second wealthiest a rebar foundry.  99% of the buildings were made out of concrete and few places seemed to use natural materials such as stone or wood.  Wood was used on some homes for arbors but most arbors I saw were constructed of metal tubing, similar to fence posts.

More olive trees, grape vines and bee hives, all the products Crete is known for.  I reached Ag. Mamas but couldn’t figure which road went upward.  Not the one I chose- it quickly became a pedestrian thoroughfare.  I carefully backed out avoiding the unevenness of the stone structures.  Whereas contemporary structures are concrete, you are able to decipher the old by the stonework.  I drove around the village but gave up.  Yes, I could have asked the four men in the tiny square but by now I was beyond driving.

I chose to go back down and meet up with a road my map showed existed, I wasn’t holding my breath.  The road did exist and I was able to weave back through some different landscapes.  Along the way, I kept seeing these circular wood piles, really beautiful and eye catching.  Then circular piles, peat maybe, smoking.  I stopped at one site where a man and his young sons tended the smoke and asked what they were.  He showed me charcoal.  I had read that this was another production of the island.  As a side note, this is the traditional way to produce charcoal not the modern method.  Down the road a goat Shepard was dropping off greens, his herd’s evening meal.  They did not appreciate my interest and left their dinner to get away from me.  One miserable shot.

I made my way back into Melidoni where I had seen a sign to Bali.  After a stop in the centre of town for a lemon fanta I drove back towards the cave.  At the turning off point for the cave, I could continue on this road but it did not appear to be passable.  However it was.  Dirt road to asphalt through what seemed like a Farm to Market ended up on the National Road.  Bear in mind, no roads are marked, none have names and the only way you truly know you are going the right way is by the villages that you past.  That being stated, the National Road or E75 is an exception.  But don’t think a good stretch of divided highway with multiple lanes.  Think mountain passes with just a line dividing.  Sometimes there is an additional lane and more likely there is a wide shoulder.  It is common, or the law (?), to drive either hugging that line or straddling it.  This allows vehicles to pass on the one the lane.  And you cannot be shy.  Overtaking is just part of the driving experience, as well as switchbacks.  You are going a nice speed then all of a sudden brake lights as you slow down abruptly.  Remember this is the major road of Crete.

In my photographs you will see kandylakia, small memorial boxes on the roadside.  All roads have hundreds of these tiny memorials to those who have lost their lives traveling and those spared.  Each typically contains icons, holy water and floating candles.  These miniature churches are often viewed more importantly than an individual’s gravestone.  After extensively traveling Central Crete I understand fully why kandylakia dot the landscape.

As I had still yet to see the monastery Christina had spoken about, I pulled off the main road right at 5pm when we were told the Monks would open the gates.  They took an afternoon nap and had prayers from 12- 5pm.  I waited in the car for a while as I could see the gates were locked before getting out thinking maybe I just needed to open them?  No definitely locked.  About this time, I noticed the welcome sigh with times and penciled over 17.00 was 18.00.  Now had I trekked all the way up here, b/c it was much longer and ten times more arduous then Christina said it was, I would have been livid.  Additionally, this threw my schedule off since I had to be at the port at 7:15pm for the Sunset Cruise.  I really didn’t have time to return to the hotel, shower and get back up here- showering was not an option.  Sadly, I did not see the monastery.

Back at the hotel I showered and changed.  On my way out I ran into Emma who had planned also to go on the trip however John was staying behind.  We drove down together, stopping at the Bakery to pick up dinner.  The Cruise prospectus detailed wine, raki ouso and fruit.  I need food to stomach that libation.  

Being out on the water was immediately relaxing.  Emma and I chatted about our separate experiences- they had the goats surrounding the car scene and saw traditionally dressed Kriti.  I snapped a few snots, arty ones b/4 the main show, the sunset.  Initially I didn’t use the telescopic lens but switched over when I couldn’t get the colors.  Cross my fingers that the camera captured them.  We all enjoyed much raki, all fourteen of us, on the catamaran. 

The boat was anchored by the cliffs as dusk drew to darkness.  A few of us took a dip which was a must for me since I had missed the opportunity on the Rethymnon excursion.  Pitch black, stars surrounding us.  The atmosphere was intoxicating, okay maybe the raki helped.  Unfortunately one of the group had to get back in order to work an evening shift so we returned.  Fortunately, Andres had access to a smaller boat and Emma, Andres and I were able to go back out.  Anchoring in the same location, we laid out watching the stars.  I can’t be positive but I think we were able to see the Milky Way.  It was really incredible and a site I would like to see again. 

Sunday, June 17^th

Waking at noon, having missed breakfast, I ate a yogurt in the room I had stashed in the frig.  Plans for the day were to hit the furthest beach I had yet to visit and then see what happened.  Maybe photograph, maybe paint?  Along the walk to the beach I stopped for a peach and some water, then the Internet Café.  I attempted to find the beach based off the oh so accurate hand drawn map from the hotel.  Too tired to be adventuresome I knew Andres would be at the port.  He directed me up some steps through a restaurant onto a cliff side ‘road’.  The climb was tough or maybe I was just tired from the prior night out?  I had thought this beach would be less crowded nestled at the end of the town, difficult to get to in a car- I was very wrong.  It was packed- body to body.  Not intending to make this walk again I did walk all the way down just see if there was space.  When I reached the beach the noise was too much and I climbed the steps back up and headed for a taverna I had passed.

  The Taverna, Sea View, was deserted- just what I was looking for.  I really did not want to be out in the sun but I did want to hear the waves.  It was almost cantilevered over the cliff and all I could hear was the ocean.  I sat drinking a coke and logging the past days events.  There was a soft music background which did not mask the waves. 

I know I wrote that the club last night was the nicest place I had been to; well this beats it hands down.  I would imagine it had just been built- a cedar arbor spanned the space with ½ covered in canvas ½ in cedar slats.  There was a limestone wall with travertine caps punctuated by lengths of metal rail, albeit tubing.  The closest rail to American standards as well.  Dark, contemporary rattan furniture with unbleached cotton cushions were inviting. From this vantage, I could see most of Bali if I chose.  People swimming, paddleboats, divers, snorkelers, sea kayaks, wave runners and boats anchored.  It was from here I wished Mum a Happy Birthday and Dad Happy Father’s Day.

Even though I did not want to sunbathe, I did want to swim.  After my relaxing afternoon I wandered down to the first beach where I knew I would be able to find a secluded spot.  By now, most of the Greeks had packed up for the day and were heading home leaving the tourist’s to enjoy the setting.  I found a place near the rocks, sheltered, and swam.  I also floated.  Then I walked the beach in search of a bit of sun since I got cold.  It was a nice lazy afternoon.

Dinner was nice, lamb.  Food at the hotel has been great, even if the overall appearance of the resort is unflattering.  Emma and John joined me and then we sat down on the terrace overlooking the sea.  Emma had made plans to meet up with Andy at Camelot so we wandered down.  We were introduced to his family who were just on their way back to the hotel to get the little one to bed.  The four of us chatted away, again enjoying the port scenery and virtually quietness.  I do wonder what it is like in high season.  As we left and were paying the bill, the bartender gave us raki which is considered a courtesy in Crete.  We did not have many drinks so maybe he wanted us to come back?

Walking back, I did want to have a look inside Crazy Town- the ‘other’ club in town.  It was set on road’s edge down into the basement of some shops.  The entrance was very dark and not at all inviting but like Boogie the music was thumping but everyone was seated.           

Saturday, June 16^th

I was bright eyed and bushy tailed for the 8am departure to Heraklion.  In Heraklion or Iraklion as my guidebook calls it, we were to board a catamaran to Santorini.  Unsure as to how the seating worked I sat down in some empty seats that faced each other so that the three of us could talk.  A very disagreeable ship porter moved us on our way as there was assigned seating.  The seats were nice in Business class but it was hot and we were not allowed outside the cabin on the journey. 

We arrived the Port of Thira at noon, a bit later than expected.  From the port we had to take a bus into the city.  The port is at the base of a mountain and the city is at the top of another.  Switchbacks all the way up, my parents would have been sick I’m sure.  On arrival at the bus depot we followed the masses at first and then climbed higher and higher.  What spectacular views!  Everything is painted white with either blue or yellow accents with the occasional salmon/coral.  We walked and we walked and we walked.  Stopping every so often to capture the scenery or just look out over the islands. 

At the very top when we could not go any higher, we discovered some ‘ruins’.  No idea of time period but rumble shells of homes made out of volcanic rock and concrete.  There was a pristine white chapel as well.  Don’t imagine too many tourists see what we saw.  Strangely, this was a residential area- I’d hate to live up there with all those steps.  On the way down there was a mass of interlocking pedestrian streets with a few shops and churches.  Friendly stray dogs and cats hovered around and the smell of donkeys was never far even though we never saw one.

Peckish, we tried to find a café/taverna on the crater side overlooking the volcanic island.  In our search we wanted one on the reasonable side but gave up.  Let’s just say we chose poorly, €4 for a coke!  But the views were stunning so we did get what we paid for.  After our single drink each, the three of us headed towards a less traveled area to find a restaurant.  Not bothered just hungry, I was thrilled when Emma made a decision.  We had a lovely lunch; again the views were spectacular, overlooking the crater.  I had Octopus Pasta in a Tomato and Spice Sauce and a Mythos.  After eating, the wind had picked up considerable and from this locale it was difficult to use my telescopic lens.  There are a few shots but most were fuzzy.

We finished lunch about 4:15pm and were due back on the catamaran at 5:45pm, which meant we really needed to leave the Thira about 5, so we chose to wander the streets a bit more.  I had seen pumice on sale and thought that would be an appropriate token.  Emma and John were in search of gelato. 

At the bus station, we realized that the buses were not in sync with the boats.  A bus ran either at 4pm or at 7:15pm which meant we needed a taxi.  A tiny pang of panic set in.  The bus trip had been €1.70 each whereas the cab fare ran €12 for all.  I didn’t think that was unreasonable.

At the port we had 30mins to spare so we sat at a café which would have overlooked the harbour had it not been for the rows of busses blocking our view.  I was still a bit panicked, didn’t want to accidentally miss the boat but the waiter informed us that it almost always late.  The 4:55pm (to ???) hadn’t arrived yet, it was 5:30pm) and we would be lucky to leave before 6pm.  The 4:55 arrived at 5:55 and ours arrived soon after that departed which put us on open waters close to 6:30 and back into Heraklion at 8pm.  We traveled Economy on the return trip as opposed to Business.  The seating was similar to an airplane, not the bench seating I had encountered years ago on ferry trips to the continent.  All in all it was not bad, most people slept.  The most astounding difference I found was the cost of water- in Business class it was €1.70 but downstairs it cost just €.70.

After retrieving the car we drove the ocean road passing by the Venetian Fortress, Arsenals and Monastery; now surrounded by a very unattractive city.  In Gazi, as we drove westward, we had a glimpse of modern day Cretans.  Men playing dice games in a small urban park and women bingo.  John taught me a new term today, bingo wings- it refers to unshapely arms. 

Back in Bali, we had missed dinner at the hotel.  After a quick shower and change we were back together in search of food.  We chose the port since the restaurants there seemed to be busy and we had heard that was the place to eat.  Down there, we picked the Panorama Restaurant.  It sat on the eastern side of the port overlooking the harbour.  I went for the Swordfish which my guidebook had recommended as a delicacy of the area.  When it arrived it was in the shape of a whale- that aside it was quite tasty.  A highlight of the meal came from the pier, fireworks.  At the table beside us was a group of Cretans, similar in age to us, who were celebrating the first birthday of one of their sons.

John was a party pooper and headed back to the hotel leaving Emma and I to have a bit of a night out.   By chance, we met up with Andres at Bonsai and he invited us to join him.  Unhappy with my vodka tonic drinks of the previous evening I went with a Mojito.  It was drinkable but tasted more like spiked limeade with mint.  Not soon after we had sat down, an English gent came over.  Andy, from some town in Leicestershire I couldn’t pronounce let alone remember, was thrilled to find us!  He had been in Crete for a two week holiday with his sister, brother-in-law and nephew.  I gathered from the conversation we were one of a few English he had met here.  Through the chat, we learned that they had got an incredible price of 150 that included flight and hotel- maybe not the best accommodations but still quite a steal. www.olympicholidays.com We were interested in where he had visited and he raved about Samaria Gorge, another top 10 item in my guidebook.

We closed the bar down and I convinced everyone we needed to visit Boogie, the area night club.  Andres drove us up there since it was at the top of a hill/mountain?  It would have been a work out walking the steep incline.  When we arrived it was almost surreal.  Pulsating music but the majority was subdued.  And most everyone was Greek, local staff, saw one of the hotel employees.  I can imagine it is not often visited by tourist’s b/c of the earlier said location but it was one of the nicest spots I had seen thus far.  Very contemporary and a chic courtyard that rivaled most clubs I have been recently.  We danced a bit and then took advantage of the courtyard.  The comfy chairs were the perfect place to look at the night sky- no wonder the ancient Greeks were so into astronomy.   Somewhere close to 4am I fell into bed.

Friday, June 15^th

After a near sleepless night, I just made it to breakfast.  Emma and John passed my room almost on cue.  Over breakfast we made further tentative plans for the afternoon and Santorini.  I planned on hitting the Internet Café early and reporting back to them about the area’s points of interest and the boat trip on Saturday.  At the café I did my research and found that we had better book our tickets for Santorini as in the morning only Business class tickets were available.  I called Emma but it went straight to voicemail and I left a somewhat panicked message.  Felt I should head back to the Bali Mare to try and catch them b/4 they went out.  They had already gone so I left the first of a series of notes.

I hit the main beach again.  The ‘Crazy Greek’ put me off getting a lounger which prompted me to explore the cliffs overlooking the bay.  I walked along the beach and up the cliffs where I found a smooth rock outcropping cantilevering the ocean perfect for sunbathing and listening to the waves; every once and a while I got wind of the ‘Crazy Greek’ but otherwise it was peaceful.  

Afraid to get too much sun I explored the cliffs.  There was a small path between the brush made by a few humans but mostly goats- I now this from the droppings even if I did not see any goats.  As I traveled further the passage got smaller until it was very tight.  I wanted to go further but thought I better head back.  When I walked back along the beach I eyed a spot shaded by the rocks that beckoned me.  I napped a bit and then went for a swim.  In this sheltered location, the water was both warm and cold.  In order to get deep water you had to swim out a distance but with my personal items unguarded on the beach I thought better than to chance it.  Even so I had a nice dip.

Interesting sights for the day included a mother, bare breasted, breast feeding.  I thought only in Europe but then she spoke, an American! 

After my swim I thought I’d better return to the hotel and meet Emma and John.  I showered, waited around, took a trip to the Super Market and collected plant samples to photograph.  Back at the hotel I set up the samples and became snap happy.  I am still getting accustomed to the digital SLR and have not mastered using my macro lenses yet.  A few good, but mostly oddly focused. 

At 5:30pm I decided to venture out on my own to the Monastery.  Christina had said just go out the gate at the top back of the hotel veer to the left and proceed 550 meters.  She had also mentioned that the gate would have to be unlocked but that wouldn’t be a problem.  Well guess what, it was a problem.  I went down to reception to get the gate opened and the girl there had no idea what I was talking about.  A little frustrated I traipsed back to my room for my guidebook then tried again.  Still nothing.  Now determined I went in search of the gate.  I found a vehicular gate but not a pedestrian and it was open.  I looked all around- the only way out was to go back down, no access to the road above. 

I went back to reception with the intention to hire a car; again I tried to communicate with the girl.  She somehow got out that she couldn’t help me that I’d have to wait for Andres’ wife.  My blood was boiling.  Even more determined I thought I’d ask someone else and went in search of Martin who I knew spoke English.  He didn’t know about the gate either!!!  But he was able to give me directions from the street which sounded much more complicated than Christina’s “It’s just up the mountain”. 

As I set out I ran into Emma and John, venting my frustrations and explaining that we needed to book our tix to Santorini.  Also about this time Yurgo, the barman, walked up- I explained the situation to him.  He appeared to know about the gate however didn’t know a key was needed.  He went in search but surprise surprise the girl didn’t know where it was!

Emma, John and I headed to the Internet café to book our tickets and then try to find the monastery in the car.  On our journey we drove onto private property, having to reverse down a narrow lane with a stone wall on one side and cars on the other.  Then up an even narrower dirt road that seemed fitting given the abysmal directions we received.  Yep, you guessed it- we had to reverse again but this time there was nothing between the car and the mountain edge.  We tried various other routes before giving up and returning to the hotel.

I ate dinner alone tonight, even had a beer due to this afternoon’s aggravations. John invited me to join him and Emma on the terrace overlooking the bay afterwards.  This was the best spot in the hotel.  The dining area is separate from where breakfast is served; this space is open air and could be used for a reception or large party.  Dinner is buffet style with plenty of fresh and cooked vegetables, spreads, pasta, a few choices of meats and a dessert.  

After dinner I showered and had every intention of just walking along the beach.  The main beach and tavernas were deserted.  I craved a little more action so I decided to hit Bonsai the bar Maria had told me about the first day.  I remembered it was at the port?

At the port, I walked out to the beach since I felt the lights off the tavernas and restaurants needed capturing.  I sat on one of the empty loungers soaking up the sounds of both the ocean and the people.  It wasn’t busy at all but there were a few parties having a laugh.  On my way across the beach to Bonsai I spotted Andres, the boat captain.  He invited me to join him for a drink.  We spoke about the day’s activities but I also asked him way too many questions about his life on Crete.  Fortunately he wasn’t offended and freely answered them.  I was intrigued what he did in the winter- like most Cretans of Kriti he has Olive Trees and grapes that keep him busy when it gets colder. 

When I asked him about the places he likes to frequent in the evening both for dinner and for drinks, I got an answer I should expect from a man whose summers are spent catering to Tourists.  “Some places are good for one dish but not another so you go elsewhere for that.”  However, he did say I must join him for a drink at Camelot since it has the best view in all of Bali.  Don’t try to envision what Camelot would look like b/c its name conjures up many images but not at all what it is.  Think Mexican or Caribbean bar.  The view was nice b/c you were above the water, overlooking the port and had views out to the mountains.  After a beer for dinner and two drinks out I actually had my first good night sleep in Crete.

Thursday, June 14^th

A car was waiting to take me down to the port at 9:30am for a boat excursion to Rethymnon, ‘Pirate’ caves and Panormos.  Rethymnon is the capital city of the prefecture of Rethymnon, located east of Bali.  My Eyewitness Guidebook listed it as 1 of the top 10 places to visit while in Crete.  Part of the appeal was the boat trip so I figured I was getting quite a day out.  Even though the coastal views were nice it was a bit hazy. 

We docked the glass bottomed Poseidon at the inner harbour by one of the three markets.  The first thing you saw when you stepped off the boat was a stall selling enormous undies.  I hoped this wasn’t going to be an omen for the day. 

I moved my way through the crowds, some intent on buying their undies, towards the main part of the town.  Following the map, I walked (I thought) towards the Venetian Gate and the market that was supposed to be ‘up-market’.  I won’t bore you with details but I never found either but did find myself smack in the middle of ‘Old Town’.  It was on my list of places to see just not so soon.  I visited an Egyptian Church, I think, but I can’t find out any info on it so maybe it is listed as something else?  From recent renovations I couldn’t tell the buildings age and honestly I didn’t find it that impressive.  Next.

From there, I headed to the waterfront road to travel up to the Venetian Fortress.  Along the way I passed by several Venetian buildings, churches and such, unfortunately there wasn’t English signage and apparently my guidebook didn’t think they were noteworthy.  The road leading to the Fortetza was lined with tavernas, all with fantastic views of the city, mountains and the sea.

By the time I got to the Fortress entry it was midday and the sun was intense.  Before entering the compound, you pass through a thick walled arched passageway which is a pleasant respite to the outside temperature.  For €3 you get the best panoramic views in the entire city and can tour some unusual structures.  Visually the most interesting building is the Ibrahim Han Mosque, originally the Venetian Cathedral.  (The Fortress was built by the Venetians in 1573 in order to protect the local population but was no match to the Ottoman Empire. The Turks took over Rethymnon in 1646.)  In my pics it is the square building with the inset dome.

The Fortress is located on the highest point of the city so when I left it was all downhill, literally.  There was a section of the ‘Old Town’ I hadn’t seen and I wandered through the maze of streets luckily seeing most of what I wanted to which included the Rimondi Fountain and the Venetian Loggia.  The narrow streets were lined with touristy shops, jewelry outlets and eateries.  I grabbed a ‘donut’ at a bakery- more like bread dipped in fat and then in sugar.

   I wandered some more, saw other places of interest but a lot of structures were under repair or even just rubble.  By now I had pasted a sensible time to eat and I felt a migraine coming on.  All the cafes seemed to smell of fish so I admit I had to stop at McDonald’s for a Big Mac.  But boy was it satisfying and it helped ease the pains in my head.  I picked up some sparkling water at a shop and walked back through the market which was starting to close for the day.  With less people it actually didn’t seem as tacky but there really wasn’t anything I needed to buy.  I come across a painting that was vaguely familiar; I have one almost exactly like it that my Dad bought when he was in mainland Greece a few years back.

With time to spare I chose to return to the boat early and wait it out as there were no places to seat at the port.  Once onboard Andres, the captain, offered refreshments- alcoholic and non- and snacks. I declined; ouzo or raiki was the last thing I needed.  While we waited for the others to return Andres and I chatted.  At 3pm the boat set off for ‘Pirate’ Caves, water level caves that are deep enough for a boat to anchor in and not be visible from open waters.  The stalactites within the caves were a bit disappointing but the color of the water was the bluest I have ever seen.  We visited two caves before heading to a cove where we were going to dock for a swim.  I regret not having my suit on as it was a great location.  From the sea the cove was separated by a stone arch that appeared to precariously balance over the water.   Leaving the cove we drove through it on our way to Panormos. 

In Panormos we had a 45min stay to swim, walk the cobble stoned streets or just enjoy the view.  Not wanting to miss out on anything I walked up the road that went from the port to the town.  I stopped along the way window shopping.  An awning caught my eye and I went to see what was behind it- a jewelry store.  Hand made jewelry.  There was a ring in the window that I wanted a better look at.  I entered the store but found it empty and I just browsed.  A few minutes later a man returned with flooring cleaning products in hand.  He introduced himself as the jeweler, showing me his designs versus others.  I asked to see the ring- a perfect fit.  It is a silver contemporary design of a flower.  Now I have a reminder of my trip to Crete.

Content I returned to the ship.  Back on the boat Andres started up a conversation and eventually asked me out.  I told him I was flattered but that I had plans for the evening.  He graciously accepted my refusal and hoped he would be able to have drinks with me another time; which he repeated as we docked back in Bali at the trip’s end.

     Exhausted, I napped before dinner.  It was warm in the room but I was so tired I easily feel asleep.  I awoke to people outside my open window on their way to dinner.  Sleepily I went to eat and again dined with Emma and John.  They had also been to Rethymnon but had gone by hired car.  They had a similar experience, been to the harbour market and the Venetian ‘Old Town’- toured the Fortress.  We tentatively made plans to go to Santorini for Saturday and perhaps exploring the area tomorrow together.

Even though I was exhausted sleep was not forthcoming.

Wednesday, June 13^th

Extremely tired, I made it to breakfast just in the nick of time.  My breakfast was Greek yogurt, canned fruit, an orange and tea.  Also available were cheeses, meat, bread, cereal, juices and coffee.  Seeing the complex in the light of day was even more disappointing than the night before.  It wasn’t that it was dirty or unkempt; it was that the craftsmanship was so shoddy. 

Due to my long travel day yesterday I had decided that I would just explore the ‘quaint’ fishing village and the beaches.  Down from the hotel, which was located on the edge of the town, was a rather large beach.  The beach was fronted by café after café and umbrellas of every color dotted the dark sand.  It was uncrowded and I was able to find a spot right at water’s edge.  Not long after I had settled into a lounger, a girl approached me requesting payment of €2.  She introduced herself, Maria, and stayed around to talk.  She asked me what I was doing here, was I alone?  When I replied yes, Maria smiled and told me I was a strong woman!  I asked her about the area and places to visit in the evening.  She suggested Bonsai for a bar and Crazy Town for clubbing.

I got a bit too much sun for my first day on the beach but I did enjoy laying out listening to the waves.  Swimming was also nice and refreshing; the sea was clear and in amazing shades of blue and turquoise.  As the afternoon progressed, the beach filled up a bit.  From the accents, most were Germans however I think they were a few from Eastern Europe since I could not determine the language.  Typical European beach with most women topless, I did not follow suit, and children running around naked.  

My lounger was situated close to where people rented wave runners, kayaks and the like.  One of the guys who ran it I dubbed ‘The Crazy Greek’.  I am convinced he started the day with raki, adding more spirits throughout the day and then gets delirious in the sun.  He ran up and down the beach laughing crazily and generally being a nuisance.  At first it was almost amusing but after a while it was downright annoying.   

Hungry, I left the beach and waited around for the ‘Bali Train’- a tiny transport that stopped at all the beaches.  It did not show as scheduled so I sat down at one of the beach side cafes.  I ordered sparkling water, my new addiction, and a Cretan Salad.  The salad was enough for two with tomatoes, cucumber, carrots, mizithra cheese, olives and lettuce.  It also came with fresh, warm wheat bread.  Cretans are known for have the highest life expectancies in the western world and by the diet and all the exercise I understand why.

The train still did not arrive so I asked the waitress and she told me it was out of service for the day.  Not sure how long of a walk I started off.  At the end of this beach I encountered a steep hill and many steps- the first of many.  At the top were a few shops and nice views overlooking the sea and parts of the village.  I followed the road upward, stopping at an internet café.  Very convenient but surprised to find one so easily.  Back down to another beach then more steps.  Up and then down and then up and then down till I made it to the port.  Along the way I saw remnants of fishing but I wouldn’t really call Bali a fishing village, more of a tourist locale.  I was quite envious of some of the hotels, one in particular had fantastic ocean views and the bar was filled with laughter.  Lots of colorful plants and some were gigantic- a 5’ geranium! 

Christina had arranged a 6pm meeting at the hotel, but when I made it to reception after quickly showering, she was not there.  The girl at the desk called and it had been changed to 7pm.  I retreated to my room and read more about Crete.  At 7pm I ventured down again.  This time Christina and her cousin were waiting.  I chatted away with her cousin while we waiting for a few others to join us.  Her cousin is from Toronto and has spent the last year teaching English in Athens, staying with her grandmother. 

A couple and two girls trickled in and Christina gave us a rundown of the hotel and the area’s points of interest, as well as selling us on a few trips.  I had seen a placard for a boat trip today to Rethymon and I knew that was something I wanted to do.  Christina booked it and arranged for a car down to the port.  She also mentioned a monastery that was a must see.  From her instructions, you exited the resort from the rear through a gate that needed to be unlocked and then walked 500 meters up the mountain.  (What she forgot to mention when I tried to find this later was that you had to cross the National Road and that it was a very steep walk up to the monastery.)  Additionally it was best to go after 5pm since the Monks had an afternoon rest and prayers till that time.

  During the course of the meeting I spoke with the English couple, Emma and John.  As we were leaving reception we all went to dinner together and we chatted all evening, enjoying the impressive view of the bay from the taverna/dining area.

Tuesday, June 12^th

The day of delays: 10:30am ferry at 10:40, missed first train but got 11:07 train to Gatwick which really left at 11:15, rail from South terminal to North broke down and 3:25pm flight to Heraklion at 5:25.  Arrived Heraklion at 11:25pm and then Bali at 12:30am. 

When I asked about the flight delay at the BA ticket counter, the lady told me to go to the information desk after entering the terminal.  What I didn’t know was that in doing so I would receive a £5 voucher to use at any eatery.  A nice little touch.  As I have stated previously, Gatwick has great amenities and if you have to be stuck at an airport for an extended period of time I will take this one any day.  I leisurely walked around, popped into Boots for Sun Screen and an adaptor, then over to WH Smith for a Crete Guidebook.  I looked through the travel writing section as well since I had the time and later wandered about the ground floor for a while before going upstairs to get something to eat.  I went to Eat. It is where I had gone the last time I was at Gatwick and had the Greek yogurt with fresh raspberries, honey and grapenuts.  For lunch I choose Spicy Crayfish Noodles.  And that was what it was: Egg noodles, Crayfish (crawfish) tails, Chili Pepper Sauce, Peanuts, Coriander (Cilantro), and a lime served cold.  Delicious.  Can I rave about it even more?  I highly recommend it! 

Plane was supposed to be BA however; it was GB Airways which is a BA subsidiary- does not compare with BA’s service.  It was a 3.5 hr flight where I spent most of the time reading the in flight magazine and my new guidebook, taking notes on my ever present notepad.  Let’s just say my research on Crete had been limited by my last minute decision to go.  Not sure I have ever been this unprepared for a trip.  At some point in my reading the young man next to me started chatting.   Through the conversation, I found out he was ½ Cretan ½ Belgium and that his mum lived in Heraklion.  He and his Japanese girlfriend were on their way for a two week vacation.  Additionally, none of the men on his father’s side of the family married Belgium women so it was not unusual that his girlfriend was from Japan.  He did give me some tips and I was able to ask some questions based off the guidebooks suggestions.  He also told me not to expect much at the airport, everyone would be smoking and to plan on a long wait for my luggage.

We deplaned onto the tarmac and were bussed over to the terminal.  Going through passport control was almost a joke- only those without an EU passport were stopped.  Inside the baggage claim area the smoke was overwhelming.  Luckily it did not take a ridiculous amount of time for luggage.  I had called the travel company when I knew about the planes delay b/c I had read that it would ensure your transfer was there (hopefully).  I was told to look for a sign with my name on it as I exited the declaration area but none was to be seen.  Panic did not overtake me since I had been given the Greek travel operator’s mobile.  I called and she was in the terminal looking for me, how she expected to find me I don’t know.  We met up, she gave me the hotel details and then she introduced me to her father who would drive me to Bali.  Her English was perfect but his, though good, was at sometimes hard to understand. 

The drive to Bali was an experience.  Within a few minutes, I realized many things about Greek driving.  One, they do not drive in a lane but hover over either the center line dividing the lanes of traffic or the one that is to the right.  Two, there isn’t a discernible speed limit.  And three, the roads have no hierarchy.

Andres, Christina’s father, conversed the entire way.  I found out he was a design/build architect in Heraklion- not sure if he has the same qualifications as one in the UK or US?   He told me he had been to England several times playing for the Greek National team, I have no verification.  And then when we got to the hotel, Bali Mare, he rang up his wife to bring down my room keys.  It dawned on me that this was a family operation: Christina ran the tour part of the business whereas her parent’s ran the hotel. 

My room was located on a ‘street’ of many rooms.  The architecture of the hotel left much to be desired; imagine A Big, Fat Greek Wedding house as a cliff side resort.  The room itself was cavernous, with a round wall for a round bed.  On this wall exposed rock jutted out into the space.  Pulling back the sheets I found a spider so I was glad I had packed my sleeping bag.  Sleep was nearly impossible as the toilet ran all night and a cat in heat cried outside my window.

Monday, June 11^th

POA taken care of and didn’t break the bank, however there is not a UPS, Fed Ex or DHL drop in Portsmouth anymore- CRAZY!  For a town this size???

Spent most of the day getting for my trip to Greece- nervous yet very excited.  I have never been to Greece and have always wanted to.  I fly into Crete and am staying in Bali, yes in Greece not Indonesia.  Bali means honey in Turkish and the region is known for its honey production as well as olive oil and raki.  My nervousness stems from this being my first truly solo trip to a country I have never traveled to so fingers crossed!

I will write of my travels and also amend these when I return.  Till then- Lara

Sunday, June 10^th

Didn’t sleep much last night, it was quite warm and I had the window open.  My bedroom faces the street which is quite well traveled; many a noisy, happy (drunken?) crowd passed by.

Lots of sailing boats are going out to sea- it is expected to reach the high 70’s today.  I wish I was out on one of them! 

Had to nip over to Pompey since I needed to print something- got to the ferry as it was leaving, had to wait for next one, saw my bus leave as I got off the ferry, had to wait for the next one, internet down at the library . . . I will spare you all the details.  I am ready for Monday =)

Fox sighting: 9:05pm, single.  Preening itself and laying about as if it owned the place.  This one is much larger than the ones seen previously.

Saturday, June 9^th

I am still on Rome time!  Stay up till the early hours and sleep all morning.  Great if you have plans for the evening but so great if you just want to get back to your normal sleeping routine. 

There was a village fete on at Portsmouth Cathedral this afternoon.  Unfortunately I missed most of it but did have a chance to speak with the Chairman of the Friend’s of Old Portsmouth Association.  In casual conversation, we spoke about my travels and he suggested that I might consider getting on the ‘talk circuit’ since there seems to be a shortage of lecturers of ‘my age’.  Interesting.

From there I walked down a bit to the Garrison Church hoping to have a look around but it was closed.  I snuck through one of the underpaths to Nelson’s bridge to walk along the sea walls.  Just before Clarence Pier I spotted a Verrecchia’s Ice Cream Van- maybe they have Cherry Brandy?  My brother and I used to love them but the recipe has definitely changed since it now tasted more like cherry cough syrup- yuk!  This area was much more crowded today then it was yesterday.  Lots of families about and the amusement park was full of screaming children. 

Today I wanted to explore further than this pier so I planned on walking down to South Parade Pier, the longer of the two piers.  On this walk there are several common areas and gardens.  When I got down to Southsea Castle I took a break, seating up on the look out facing west and watched all the boats coming and going- tiny sailing boats to enormous container ships and lots of ferries.  A waverunner went past and as it hit the waves it resounded within the castle walls and sounded like a canon was being fired. 

Around 6pm I thought I had better make a move so I continued walking eastward to the Pier.  The beach was still full of people and the late crowd had started to move in as well.  Those who wanted to have a few drinks before heading out for the evening.  I made it to the Pier but didn’t attempt to walk through.  Canoe Lake looked inviting so I strolled down.  Where I remember simple paddle boats, it is now covered in white and pink swan shaped boats.  Could be a neat picture, I waited around but no shot spoke to me.

I took a bus back to catch the ferry across.  I knew the flat would be empty as Gazza had a DJ job tonight so I cooked dinner and surfed the web.  I was looking for a trip to Greece, specifically Santorini but I had been told Crete was nice as well.  No trips available to Santorini till late July so I chose one to Bali, Crete.  From what I’ve read I can island hop to Santorini easily.  It is a chartered deal so I don’t actually know when I depart on Tuesday, not really bothered right now.

Friday, June 8^th

Spent the morning dealing with Power of Attorney issues, stupidly only gave my mother power of attorney for the sale of the house but not the car since I thought I had handled everything (I forgot the minor detail of signing the title.) It is a bit more difficult here then just seeing a notary and I fear a lot more expensive.

I went out after lunch, but wasn’t really in the mood to lay about the beach; I went down to Palmerston Road, the seafront high street.  It was almost exactly as I remembered it.  Same shops, same atmosphere.  I window shopped mainly however I did have a good look round Laura Ashley and Knight & Lee’s.  Couldn’t justify the costs though; I still don’t understand how people afford these prices.

It is Friday so it must be Fish & Chips!  I walked down to Clarence Pier and picked up a Cod and chips.  The seaside shack was just along from the Hovercraft and this is a decent place to sit and watch the boats.  Masses of backpackers were going over to the Isle of Wight for the Music Festival which included, among many, the Fray, Muse, Keane and the Rolling Stones- the Stones only concert this year.  Tickets sold out within the first few hours.

I walked through the amusement area at the Pier but it was a bit early for too much people watching.  Imagine Coney Island amusement and you’ve got Clarence Pier, maybe on a bit smaller scale.  I have never been to Coney Island just seen it in movies. 

Past the Pier and along the sea walls I walked, passing the Garrison Church and the Towers, Round and Square, before traversing the small side streets of Old Portsmouth down to the Point or Spice Islands.  The two ‘famous’ pubs are the Still & West and the Spice Island Inn.  I had planned on getting a shandy at the S&W but it was already crowded with a bunch of rambunctious twenty somethings so I chose the other.  The Spice Island Inn had a mixed crowd enjoying the late afternoon warmth, camped out on the picnic tables scattered over the cobble.  Eavesdropping is unavoidable in such tight quarters.  A group sat down directly behind me on the seats that keep people outside of the pub’s area and proceeded to openly speak about a number of things.  None really that interesting but I did find out that most of the men in that group ‘desire’ trainers (sneakers, running shoes).  A good ten minutes was devoted to the topic!

I would have stayed longer but I was not dressed for this crowd and the wind had picked up a bit.  Just as I was leaving Mum called to tell me that there were several emails that had to be dealt with, specifically one regarding the house- good thing I had planned on getting back.  The lady who wanted to purchase it had presented a number of items that needed repair. 

Back at the flat, I responded to my messages and I won’t go into any detail but to say the lady is getting a hell of a deal on the house and should just buy it already!  Being here I have picked up a few new sayings and this house is ‘doing my head in’!

Fox sighting: 10:20pm, single.  Back in the pines and through the barberry- he/she/it is scratching its back.

Thursday, June 7^th

The sun was supposed to be shining today, it was not, and I had planned on spending the day at the beach, I did not.  Instead I cleaned the flat a bit and waited for the clouds to burn off, they did not.

After lunch, I headed over to Portsmouth.  If I wasn’t to sun myself a bit then I would visit the football grounds and our old house.  The bus dropped me off at Frogmore Road which deadends into Fratton Park, Portsmouth Football Club grounds.  Dad wanted me to stop in and see Bob, the grounds keeper.  I enquired in the shop of Bob’s whereabouts only to find out he was on vacation this week and next. 

The area looked refreshed, doesn’t help that the last time I saw it was in February 2003 and it was wintry.  The streets were different also and I almost missed Apsley Road b/c the shop that had always been on the corner was gone.  #22 was only recognizable by the rhododendron in the front.  Gone was the obnoxious orangey salmon and replaced by black with gray highlights.  I rang the bell next door not sure whether Mandy would be home.  She was!  She invited me in for a cup of tea and a chat.  We caught up and she even took me upstairs to see what changes the new lady had made to the garden. 

As if on cue as I was saying my goodbyes to Mandy, #22’s door opened.  I was introduced to the new owner of the house, Sarah (?).  We chatted a bit and then she invited me in to see what changes she had made to the house.  All the carpet had been removed and she had been refinishing the floors- who knew there was wide planked pine under there?  Sarah (?) had also had all the doors stripped and the unfinished wood accented the floors amazingly.  It was a totally different house yet still the same, however I didn’t tear up as I had when I visited Nan’s and then I didn’t go inside either!  The biggest change was the garden.  When my grandparent’s had lived the house, the garden was a bit of a shambles: a few veggies, a few roses, a compost heap, an enormous holly bush and the shed.  The shed that I never wanted to go in!  It was black on the outside and equally inside.  And the smell.  Musty, musty, musty.  Sarah (?) informed me it was much worse when she purchased the house from the people we had sold it to.  Instead of dumping all their trash they had ‘stored’ it in the shed, kitchen remains and all.  Even the attic was piled high with junk.

Back to the garden- it was beautiful!  Envision row houses with tiny postage stamp sized gardens.  Well, they had sited a ‘summer house’ down the end on axis with the conservatory door.  There is a bit of room, where the holly once resided, where a jasmine is growing up the brick wall of the house beyond. In this space, there is a café bistro table and an ornate stone urn colorfully planted. A small but adequate square of lawn is off to the left between the rear of the house and the ‘summer house’.  All the old paving has been replaced by sea shingle.  The crumbling wall between the west neighbour has also been removed and a heavily painted fence stands in its place.  Quite a transformation.

I was disappointed by one thing- the colorful tiles in the downstairs toilet had been painted over! 

Wednesday, June 6^th

Still recovering; wasn’t active till after lunch time when I was having breakfast. 

As I am writing, the man in the flat above and to the right is using the rail bar to exercise, totally unaware (I think) that he is in my line of vision!  I now am distracted by the number of small sailboats off Whale island- there must be twenty.

            Checked email, watched a bit of Antique Roadshow, did laundry and blogged.  Highly exciting!  Cooked dinner (Tiger Shrimp Kourma in Basmati Rice with Naan and a Sweet Beetroot Salad- Yummy), ate and then more laundry.

Fox sighting: 6:20pm, single.  It is still extremely bright and he/she/it is laid out on the lawn, now moving ever so casually.  Got a photo!

Tuesday, June 5^th

I spent most of the day recovering from a great trip!  I checked my email and surfed the web as I need to plan what I am doing for the month of June.  I ran across some job listings that looked interesting so I might apply.  Still haven’t heard back from Berlitz so I sent another email.  

Gazza came home and we had a little chat and caught up.  As I had intended to go to the grocery store I headed off before it closed at 8pm.  When I returned, Gazza was off to unload some ‘stuff’ into a storage unit with his friend Dean.  He left or so I thought so until I see him walking up the road in the back of the flat by the balcony.  Ring goes my phone.  Apparently they had started out to the unit when Dean asked Gazza where the keys where.  Expletives were expressed and they returned to the flat.  No keys here though.  Off to the shop they went where the story gets funnier.  (Dean relayed the story later in the evening)  If I remember correctly, Gazza had to unlock the shop then unlock his office then unlock something else in order to get the keys.  I know I lack the expressive manner in the way it is described here so I do apologize.  Gazza, Dean and I enjoyed a few drinks at the pub across from the flat and I now have some Navy stories to hold over them!  

Monday, June 4^th

            Last day in Rome!  After our early morning jaunt to Trevi Fountain, I was a bit tired but determined to make it the Spanish Steps and do a bit of shopping along Via dei Condotti.  On our way there, we passed the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain which are decidedly busier in early afternoon than in the morning!  Beth indulged my shopping side and let me visit Louis Vuitton and Gucci.  I couldn’t make up my mind on a bag at either so I bought at neither.   We window shopped, this area is considered the Rodeo Drive of Europe, but weren’t enticed by too many stores.  Time was ticking away and we made our way back winding through the streets, most filled with shops.  A pizzeria caught our eye and we couldn’t resist.  My eyes were bigger than my stomach.  We dined on the steps of the Pantheon fountain, yes the one that was inspiration for the Green’s fountain.  I began to feel sadness; I did not want to leave! 

            There was a bit of confusion when we returned since I thought we were all going to leave for the airport at the same time since Eithne’s and my flight was at 6:45pm and I thought everyone else’s was at 7pm.  Wrong.  Quickly packed and quickly walked down to Chiesa Nuova to catch a taxi.  Initially our intention was to take one to Termini and then get the train but after the driver gave us the cost to the airport we chose the taxi, it worked out cheaper for us to take the cab.  The ride was also a bit more enjoyable as we traveled through an area of Rome we had not seen.

            Checking in was a breeze and we were soon inside security.  I did, however, lose my Olive Oil.  In my haste to pack I packed it in my carry on forgetting about the liquid limitation.  Damn.  But oh well.  Eithne grabbed a Proccuitto panino and I water, still full from the pizza earlier.  Then we shopped, I thought I’d find some oil to replace my confiscated one but none caught my eye and I had liked the idea that the one I had purchased was from a Villa I had visited.  We went closer to the gate and found some great shopping, Gucci, Prada, etc…  Without the crowds of the town, I did find a Gucci I had to take home. 

            Our flight had been delayed and we kept checking back but there never seemed to be much change so we just kept browsing.  At some point we did get bored and were ready to get to London.  Finally boarding, then more waiting on the plane.  The captain stated there was a storm over Geneva that was causing delays.  More waiting.  An hour after our anticipated departure we were airborne; a bit bumpy at times although nothing out of the ordinary.  Again an in flight meal- half egg half cheese and onion.  Quite lovely I must say.  Eithne slept and I read the High Life, BA’s magazine. 

            We returned to Heathrow, not Gatwick, where we had departed.  This is the first time in many years I have flown into this airport and I don’t remember it at all.  Very similar to Gatwick I suppose.  While waiting for our baggage the man who had sat in our row on the plane struck up a conversation.  He was American, from Detroit, though you would never have known it from his accent, living in London.  He gave me some destinations not to miss and some travel pointers.  The hint I keep on hearing is to get on all the travel sites alerts since this is where all the deals are.

            Eventually our luggage came down the carousel.  Good thing I had rung Mack earlier today (when Gazza texted me that he would not be able to pick me up at the airport) since my other alternative was the bus and the last bus would have left by now.  Mack was outside when I came through and that was quite a relief due to our delay.  Non eventful drive to Gosport and it was dark so I couldn’t take in the scenery.  Unfortunately I hit a second wind and was not at all sleepy when I got in =(

Friday, June 1^st

At 10am I was up, showered, enjoying yogurt and a pear out on the terrace whilst the rest of the group slept.  Alone, I listened to the sounds of the passageways below: car alarms, construction, conversations and church bells. 

Beth was not far behind me since we both had gone to bed much earlier than the others.  Knowing the sleepers would not rise soon she suggested that we head up to Frascati to Villa Aldobrandini.  I had visited the Villa on my first trip to Rome with Professor Yardley, Brian (other LA student) and the other professor who I can’t remember her name.  It was a few afternoon but it was well worth seeing it through Yardley’s eye.  This time around the water was running which it wasn’t the last time.

Thursday, May 31^st

Mack picked me up at 4:30am for the trip to Gatwick; sleepily I don’t think recall what we spoke about but we did chat the whole way up.  At the airport, I easily checked in and dropped off my luggage with plenty of time to hand about.  If you haven’t traveled through Gatwick, it is quite an experience.  After going through security there are so many little shops to explore.  I was disappointed, though, that the Best Times store was gone.  And food?  Anything from cavalier and champagne to bangers and mash.  I chose a Greek yogurt with honey, raspberries and grapenuts. And a cup a tea of course =) 

Today I flew BA, British Airways, into Rome’s main airport, Fiumicino.  It has been a while since I last flew BA but I remember now why I have fond memories.  The cabin staff are always so nice, the planes quite new and they even serve complimentary food and beverages.  So here I was eating for the third time today (I had weetabix at 3:45am), an egg and bacon baquette with a citrus smoothie.  And a cup a tea of course =)  I was able to catch a little shut eye before landing.

Fiumicino or da Vinci as it is also known as reminds a bit of Dulles.  Upon arrival, you must take the rail to baggage claim.  It doesn’t seem the most efficient system but . . .  Additionally; baggage claim seems quite small as well for such a traveled airport.  My luggage was to arrive on the carousel next to the flight from Dublin.  On this flight were four travelers whom I was to meet up with.  Laura, a friend of mine in Dallas, had ‘virtually introduced’ me to her friend Beth who used to live in Dallas but now lives in Dublin.  Beth and I conversed via email and I was invited to join her and a group of friends, all architects, in Rome.  What better way to see the city then with a group of designers! 

I spotted the four across the way, Mark was holding a bright fuchsia pillow that initially caught my attention but then I recognized him from Beth’s blog.  My luggage had yet to appear so I went over to meet them, Beth, Mark, Sarah and Joe.  Eithne, Mark’s friend flew in my London earlier and was to meet us outside.  Fionnuala or Finn or Fi, another Dubliner, would arrive Friday so then there would be seven of us.  After collecting our luggage we had a coffee before heading to the train for Termini.  With 20 minutes to spare we grabbed a pizza and had our first glimpse of Sharon who would eventually follow us around Rome.  Now the Sharon I am referring to is Sharon Stone in her role in Basic Instinct; Joe spotted her across from him in the form of a 60+ woman. 

The trip from the airport was roughly 40 minutes.  Termini was busy as usual, being both the main train station and bus terminal.  The taxi drivers were on strike so we had to take the infamous 64 bus to Chiesa Nuova.  If you are unfamiliar with Rome, the 64 bus is world renown for its overabundance of pickpockets.  It is also known for being one of the most crowded and today was no exception.  We were not victims.       

Slightly off course we entered Campo dei Fiori off one of the streets that eventually parallels the Corso.  I must admit I was a bit surprised when we called for exact directions to the apartment that we were not on the piazza and the façade of the building looked nothing like the images that we were shown.  And curb appeal was not one of its strong suits either, however the apartments were nice and the terrace off the upper one was a pleasant surprise.  Rooms were chosen and we lingered long enough to unpack a few items.  Without a plan we walked across the piazza, stopping for a drink and a snack at one of the many cafes.  It was here I realized I was in for a quite a treat; my traveling companions really knew how to enjoy themselves. 

From Campo dei Fiori we went to Piazza Farnese.  Unfortunately the fountains were under repair, covered by scaffolding.  We were able to get a view into the palazzo from the garden side, very Mediterranean with Palms and bougainvillea. 

Next we hit Piazza Navona (more fountains hidden under scaffolding) taking in all the touristy amusements. Mimes were miming and the street vendors side by side.  However, we did ‘get some culture’ by visiting Borromini’s Sant'Agnese in Agone which stands on axis to Bernini’s Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi (Fountain of the Four Rivers).   We stopped to have Gelato, I had forgot how good it tasted, and headed to our next site, the Pantheon.  The Pantheon is impressive no matter how you view it but it is so much more impressive when you enter Piazza della Rotonda from the northwest.  As you walk from Piazza Navona you forget that you will just enter the piazza and it is there.  There amongst other structures you could care less about, in the same square as a McDonald’s for goodness sakes!

I found it more impressive this time.  The piazza was crowded, as it should be, but it wasn’t long before we moved through the throng and entered the church.  Despite a mass in session, there was an area roped off so visitors could still get a good look around.  The sound of the service was calming and there was song as well which really capped the experience. 

On a side note: a few nights ago I had seen a show on the making of the dome but on a much, much smaller scale.  The perfectly symmetrical 142’ unreinforced dome was made entirely of concrete and was created as one pour; however how long that pour took no one seems to know.  Amazing!!!

Our next stop was Santa Maria sopra Minerva in Piazza Minerva.  Unfortunately it was late in the day and the lighting made it difficult to take great pictures.  The ceiling, which is magnificent, is visible from this kind person’s site (who I don’t know but Thanks!) as well as a shot of Michelangelo’s Jesus.  Again, a mass was in progress but it was in one of the chapels in the back of the church so you felt less of an imposition. 

We began to tire and decided this last church would be a good place to end the days touring.  Before we headed back to the flat though, we needed to find a grocery store.  After getting some directions, somewhere along the way I think we must have missed our turn since we went quite a distance.  Beth directed us to one she knew of and we were like kids in a candy store.  Okay, I wasn’t.  I just needed the essentials: milk, tea, mineral water and Greek yogurt.  Whatever else they wanted was good too. 

We hauled these items back and then a liquor run was made.  Again, I was alerted to fact that my flatmates knew how to have a good time.  By now all I wanted was food.  I gorged myself on Tucs and cream cheese to tie me over.  The very thought of drinking was too much, what if I got a migraine?

Way past my normal eating time, well past nine, we went to dinner at Le Maschere.   It was a restaurant Beth had been to before and could recommend.  We wanted to seat outside but we were taken down into the depths of the building, into a very eclectic dining room.  There was a group of American college students (20?) who had definitely imbibed a bit too much.  Fortunately they were on their way out.  Other than that we were alone or until much later in the meal. 

Brightly colored walls, art hung salon style and an open air ceiling with pothos ivy growing everywhere- not quite sure what to think about it.  I wasn’t very hungry after my snack so I just ordered a salad, something I would not have done if I was dining with Italians.  Click here for Rules to Italian Eating.  The others ordered much more which was interesting since the preparation is so different than what we are used to.  Joe, who sat across from me, had the typical three plates with antipasto, pasta and a meat dish.  I did enjoy an espresso after hoping it would help me through the evening. 

Earlier in the day we had passed a bar, Femme, which had an enticing display of antipasto in the window.  Beth thought it would be a good place to start out.  Italians tend to go out much later than we do and at after 11pm it was still slow.  We found a great room with an elevated seating are to spread out, turns out it was the VIP room- Oops!  We ordered a selection of drinks but only the Margaritas were a hit.  My limoncello was repulsive.  Mark and Joe’s Mojitoish drink produced similar facial responses as my own.  We lasted one drink there and moved back towards Campo dei Fioro.  Sharon appeared.  This time as a 50+ bag lady dressed in a tent of a dress.  Beth and I decided to head back to the flat but the others stayed out till 5am.

Sleeping was quite an experience.  Our bedroom, even though on the third floor, faced a busy pedestrian thoroughfare into the piazza.  There was a restaurant just below as well.  Italians drink a lot of wine and restaurants deposit lots of glass bottles into trash bins on a regular basis.  This restaurant was no exception and their bins were located under our window.  Another joy was the covered walk between the streets was used as a public toilet by the men of Rome.  Not to be crude, but the sound of urination is not one I want to hear- every few minutes all night long.  Oh, and then they thought it would be fun to ring the bell to our apartment. 

Wednesday, May 30^th

Quite a miserable day with sporadic downpours followed by consistent spitting, a day meant for staying in bed.  Unfortunately, I needed to go over to Portsmouth to pick up more mail at my Aunt’s and purchase some Euros for tomorrow’s trip to Rome, perhaps do a bit of shopping as well. 

I must have looked like a wet rat when I arrived at my great Aunt’s since she hardly recognized me.  Luckily, the mail included my pin number for my cashpoint card!  After a nice cup of tea I walked back into town, but before the bank I stopped in at Gazza’s Portsmouth Oggy Oggy shop for a Sausage roll.  Not a fan of the pasty’s (sorry Gaz) but the sausage roll is quite tasty. 

On arrival at the bank, and prior to checking on the credit card status, I tried my cashpoint card in the ATM, being able to use the card for the first time!  Monika, the lady who had been assisting me, was behind the counter.  She smiled and then gave me a questioning look which made me laugh given the circumstances.  I told her the cashpoint pin had arrived and it worked!  A look of relief swept over her.  I did have a favor to ask her though, it appeared that when I had deposited the initial cash in the teller had reversed my request (if it’s not one thing it is another), and so she transferred some money so I wouldn’t be overdrawn on my trip.  The credit card had arrived as well.  What a day!

Purchasing Euros was next on my list.  The exchange rate was quite good, but I must admit I still have trouble mentally calculating it over from dollars since now my money is in pounds sterling.

The rain had definitely subsided- yea!  I was a bit concerned with my wardrobe selections for the trip and decided to do a bit of shopping.  First, I hit Commercial Road and then Gunwarf Quay’s.  I bought a few tops and a hairdryer.  I have been astounded by the cost of appliances; the cheapest price I have seen on a dryer is ₤20!!!  That’s $40.  Ridiculous!  I was able to pick one up at the Remington Outlet for jut over ₤7.

When I returned to the flat I had great expectations of getting dinner, packing and going to bed early.  I managed to find things to do which included loosing time to Rome research mainly and  . . .  At midnight I was still wide awake.           

Tuesday, May 29^th

            I spent the morning formatting images for the website and blogged a bit, filling in the gaps.  Extremely time consuming!  Since I was down to just a few food items, I walked to Morrison’s.  My first visit had been somewhat limited by time but today I went down every aisle seeing what was available.  Overall food is more expensive in the UK but some things are cheaper such as Fage Greek Yogurt at 59p whereas I pay $2.19 in Texas.  What really is expensive is makeup and anything for the face such as moisturizers, cleansers and exfoliates.  What I would normally pay in dollars is what you can expect to pay in pounds.  One pound is roughly two dollars. 

            Not an exciting day, thank goodness.  Watched a couple of home shows between blogging; saw a really interesting one on sustainable residential design in south London. Highly recommend you check out this site Grand Designs.  I am thoroughly intrigued by the concepts and think I would really enjoy getting into this field in some manner.  The concepts truly transcend what is ‘mainstream’ Sustainability in America.  I have heard the talks by both architects and landscape architects, even academia, but none of them speak about sourcing materials or carbon footprints which are everyday terms even among those not in the design industry.      

Fox sighting: 10pm, a pair playing in one of the newly planted pines.  At first I thought the wind had got up but when it appeared that the lower branches were flying off the tree I knew it had to be an animal.  Got a photo but is probably way too dark.  Now they are running around the garden chasing each other, hiding behind plants and pouncing out.

Monday, May 28^th

        I awoke at 7am to a very quiet house and debated getting up- decided to sleep in a bit instead.  At 9:15am I heard Callum screaming ‘Dad’, ‘Louis’, and something incomprehensible.  Then there was the thumping of feet as though elephants were inhabiting the flat.  Slightly interested I got up.  Apparently someone in the penthouse had locked themselves out of the apartment on the balcony.  Callum had discovered there was something up when he was opening the curtains in the living area and saw the fire brigade’s ladder positioned over our balcony.  Gazza stuck his head out just to make sure there really wasn’t a fire even though there were no sirens.  No one did come down the ladder so we must presume they got back into the flat however I do have a few questions about the situation.  How long had they been locked out?  (It had been a blustery, raining, cold night.)  Why did they go out there in the first place given the weather?  Were they incapacitated and therefore unable to open the door? 

            Still on a high about the internet, I rushed onto it this morning only to find that it was acting up.  I tried to log on with the given passphrase but no such luck.  Gazza rang up India again and tried to explain the situation.  I won’t go into the particulars but the rep didn’t get our explanation of the problem and tried to fix other problems.  After another 30 mins (lost to overseas outsourcing and a language barrier) somehow it connected. 

            Around 12:30pm we decided to go out even though it was still very windy, rainy and cold.  High for the day was 50 degrees, so factor in wind chill with rain and we were in for a chilly day!  Gazza, Callum, Louis and I headed for the Royal Armouries Museum at Fort Nelson.  Being a bank holiday but not knowing what events would on, we were happily surprised by the activities available.  Just before 2pm, a local Pipe Band played a selection of tunes inside the upper section of the museum.  I am sure they would have performed outside had it not been such lovely weather.  Even so, it was fascinating to hear and watch them.  I love the sound of the pipes but the drummers are the ones that kept my focus today.  This group had three different types, and excuse my ignorance, but I think it is the tenor drummers movement that I find mesmerizing.  The way they twirl the beaters (yes, that is the correct term) is so fluid yet I can’t imagine how they accomplish it without messing up!

            Following the band, the boys went exploring the exposed portions of the fort and I went to see what else was happening, preferably out of the elements.  Walking along one of the corridors which separate the barracks from the tunnels, I heard a man announcing a Victorian Poetry Reading.  Intrigued (and excited about the possibility of staying inside), I strolled on down.  He was dressed in somewhat authentic Victorian garb, most likely of a gentleman.  Rudyard Kipling’s Gunga Din started the reading of six poems that also included I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud by William Wordsworth.  This poem is unusually known to me since my father states on a regular basis ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud what I had forgotten’. 

            I toured another section of the museum that included installations and recreations.  There was room full of overly ornate guns that were quite fascinating- look for a few of those shots.  Thoroughly warm now I thought I best try to find the others, I could brave the winds.  The wind had picked up considered as I climbed the stone steps up to the area where I had last sent the boys.  A reenactment of a skirmish during the Boer War was setting up in the open area.  I scanned the crowds looking for Gazza and caught sight of him on the upper level near one of the armoury posts.  Callum lept to his feet and ran down to find me.  I am not afraid of heights per se but the combination of gale force winds and less than stable footings does make me a bit uncomfortable.  After climbing the stairs I did not join Gazza and the boys but rather found a space near the hillside wall and slowly regained my normal breathing and heart rate. 

            The reenactment was well done with great commentary heard from a loudspeaker.  Guns going off everywhere, dynamite, men running about, everything to capture a young boy’s attention.  There were also horses to boot.  The British incurred a setback as the Boer’s were able to get two sticks of dynamite into the Block House that housed the Brits’ ammunition, forcing them out into the open and subsequently being captured.  But wait.- in came a Calvary of horse mounted soldiers to rescue the men.  Lots more guns and men running about; Callum and Louis loved it!

            We toured the tunnels that had housed the ammunition after the reenactment.  Amazingly all the tunnels were hand dug in the mid 1800’s!  And the construction included a rail system that took bricks down to the core for stabilization and then was used to transport the ammunition.  There were lots of dark areas and a few spiral staircases in order to access the tunnels which linked one side of the fort to the other. 

            Tea time!  We retreated to the Café for some hot drinks and a snack.  The boys played in the children’s area for a bit while Gazza and I enjoyed a nice cuppa.  From there we all went through the section of the museum I had previously seen; still fascinated by the ornateness of some of the guns.  This time though I saw a HUGE rifle I had seen previously.  It must have been over 6’ long!  We also viewed a section of a documentary detailing the making of a replica of one of the Mary Rose’s guns using 1500’s technology.  The end of the film showed the gun being fired, not one to be messed around with.  Must have been good b/c it entertained a four and seven yr old.

            Back at the flat I cooked dinner while the boys watched some Disney movie about Goofy’s son.  After dinner it was time for them to leave, though they mostly well behaved, it was nice to have silence in the flat.            

Fox sighting: 9pm, just off the balcony!  Still no photo though, he/she is too fast.

Sunday, May 27^th

        No alarm, no immediate need to get out of bed- yea. It was still drizzling and a bit on the chilly side.  I knew today was not going to be good since Burt was flying in to Dallas to pick up my car.  So glad I was not there otherwise I am not sure I could let him leave with it! 

            The other reason I was in no rush to get up was that BT was scheduled to call at 11am to again try to finish the install.  I wasn’t holding my breath.  11am came and went as did noon.  Right as I was about to get lunch the phone rang.  It was the same man I had spoken to yesterday who was not overly polite.  We went through a series of the same things as done yesterday with similar results- NOTHING!  He ran another line test.  I waited and he gave me the same spiel about contacting his colleague who would be able to assist me.  I spoke with his colleague who immediately asked if there was another line he could call me at so I gave him my mobile.  After receiving his call on my mobile, he instructed me to remove the face plate of the master socket.  Being not familiar with a ‘master socket’ I asked him to explain what one was.  He then proceeded to speak to me as though I was an idiot b/c I didn’t know what one was.  The more he spoke the more I began to realize he didn’t have a clue either and was just reading his script.  I told him he would have to call me back in thirty minutes since I did not know where Gazza stored his tools.  Again, I got lip.  He certainly wasn’t endearing himself to me.  I knew it wouldn’t take me that long but I wanted to eat so I thought this would give plenty of time to do both, find a screwdriver and have lunch.  It did but he did not call.  I waited. 

He finally called on the house line and quickly starting reading yet another script.  Thinking he should have called on my mobile I asked him and realizing his mistake he slightly chuckled.  He called out Gazza’s number and when I corrected him, he told me that was the number I had given him.  I internally screamed.  He called me on my mobile and we went through the removal of the plate only to discover there wasn’t a test switch as his script detailed.  Now he told me there wasn’t any more he could do except send out an engineer.  Wasn’t that what the guy said yesterday???  This did nothing to my spirits.

I finally left the flat near to 3:45pm in order to get down to Morrison’s for some groceries.  The streets were deserted!  Not a soul was about on the walk to the end of high street.  When I arrived at the store the doors wouldn’t open yet I saw staff inside.  A man walked by and must have noticed my confusion.  ‘The shop closes at 4pm on Sundays.’  And sure enough it was dead on 4pm.  Wish someone had told me that or the hours were displayed on the window somewhere.  I asked if there were any shops open (since we were out of milk and I knew Gazza was bringing his boys back to the flat for the night).  ‘A one off will be but there isn’t one close.’  Great.  I walked back to flat while the rain intensified.

I was watching telly when the phone rang. Who could it be now, not India again?  Definitely not India with his accent, I didn’t catch his name but he introduced himself as a BT engineer.  I glanced at the hub and the broadband and internet lights were green.  ‘Just calling to let you know that we have ??? and you should have no more problems with the line.’  Still not holding my breath I tried Internet Explorer- and it actually worked!  At least something had gone right today.

I was surfing the web when Gazza returned.  The boys sleepishly (another new term) entered the flat but quickly woke up and vied for my attention.  Callum, the oldest, was very interested in my laptop and chatted about school, their day out at Arundel Castle watching a Joisting Exhibit, etc.  Louis on the other hand was interested in whatever Callum was interested but not really interested if you get my drift.  He was working on his second wind which was evident in his behaviour.  Gazza was not suitable impressed.            

Saturday, May 26^th

        Alarm went off at 4:30am so that I could catch the 5:30 ferry to the Hard and then a 5:50 National Express coach to Victoria Station.  Still no ticket for Chelsea but it really didn’t seem to bother me- maybe the bank fiasco had numbed me?  The ride up was cold!  And the time between 6:28am and 6:45am seemed to take forever.  I tried to take my mind off the temperature and watched the countryside fly by, at one point I did see a HUGE pheasant (I think).  About 7:15am it started to rain but fortunately it stopped before we hit London.

            I expected to arrive at Victoria Train Station, unaware that there was a Victoria Coach Station and a Victoria Bus Station as well and now know that none of them are connected.  I asked directions at the Info desk and off I went in search of the Chelsea Hospital.  I found the grounds easily; tickets might prove to be another thing.  The first gate I came to was a Catering entrance and I did ask the guard if he knew where I might find tickets.  He directed me to the Bull Gate where another guard informed I needed to retrace my steps and go a bit further to the main gate near Sloane Square.  Hoping this wasn’t a loss cause I walked back.  As I passed the Catering entrance again the same guard I had spoke to previously asked me what had happened.  I explained and let’s just say we negotiated a ticket.   I was in!

            Still cold, I stopped at a Tea Caravan before proceeding to the main grounds.  At 8am it was not crowded but crowds were pouring in, mostly 50’s + but a few younger ones.  From the main gate you see stall after stall.  Not the market variety but clean, crisp canvas stalls with goods unclutteredly (a new word) arranged.  I checked the map I received at the gate and headed towards the main area though an allee of towering Plane trees. 

            The canopy of the trees created a lovely enclosure along with the monochromatic color of the canvas and was in stark contrast to the gardens and pavilions that most of us know of the Chelsea Flower Show.  I had seen pics of the individual gardens and the inside of the pavilions but had no concept of the layout.  I also had no idea there were so many different categories of gardens ranging from Show to City to even Roof Gardens.  I found all impressive, some of course more than others but four made lasting impressions.  Two were show gardens, the Laurent- Perrier Garden and The Westland Garden, one a city garden, Realistic Retreat, and one a chic garden, Perspectum.  The Realistic Retreat was the one I felt most comfortable in and felt was easily replicated in most English homes due to the scale and use of materials- could be contemporary or traditional with a few tweaks. 

              I spent the morning 8ish till 11am viewing the exterior portion of the show.  Good thing too b/c when I started back around there were swarms of people.  I ventured into the Grand Pavilion in order to get a seat reservation for a lecture on ‘Sustainable Design in the Garden’.  This year was the first year that daily talks were included in the programme.  The presentation was set for noon and since I was getting hungry decided to head to the Food Court.  The choices were all very similar and even though I had had it for dinner last night I chose fish and Chips.  Yummy.  The picnic tables were full so I stood while I ate. 

Fox sighting: 4:45am

Friday, May 25^th

        I was still w/out Chelsea Flower Show tickets this morning.  Gazza’s contact was unable to procure any.  I tried a few more routes again but to no avail so I thought I would try eBay again.  Unfortunately I couldn’t leave due to the delivery of the internet hub.  And hopefully when we received this router I could access the internet at the flat and wouldn’t need to go to Portsmouth.  I didn’t have to wait long for the delivery, 9:30am the intercom rang.  Still in my pjs, I crossed the lobby to collect the envelope from a man who looked vaguely familiar.  As I opened the door he said is some garbled cockney that he had asked me yesterday if I was in flat one.  Remembering he had actually asked me if I was in Flat 23 but I wasn’t about to argue this small point.  I had the delivery and that was all I cared about.  Well that and getting on line as soon as possible.  I followed the instructions word for word.  At first the little white box responded just as the set up spelled out; however, between the wireless light going green and the broadband following suit, something went awry.  This couldn’t be abnormal given that the instructions had troubleshooting notes specifically for this issue.  Again I followed them word for word.  No broadband light.  Time was ticking away and I knew I needed to get online.  I called Gazza to ask him for some details but he was unavailable.

Across the ferry and to the Library I went.  A single ticket was available on eBay!  I logged in and started bidding, starting out at ₤65.  As my hour (responding to email and checking times to London) dwindled, a bidding war ensued. Gazza called whist I was there and said BT had been in touch and I needed to return home soon to finish the internet set up.   So I left for my great Aunt’s to pick up some mail with a top bid of ₤95.   

Auntie Mary welcomed me in and offered a cup of tea.  It was nice to sit down for a bit not thinking about the internet or the tickets, just chatting about whatever.  She had called me earlier in the day to say that some mail had arrived and one looked like a checkbook.  Yes, one was and the other was the pin to my cashpoint card which had been cancelled yesterday!!!  Half hoping it had not been processed yet I walked back into town to the bank.  The lady, Monika, who assisted me yesterday, helped me again.  I explained that the pin had arrived today and would she please check to see if it had indeed been cancelled.  Shaking her head she exclaimed I must have the worst luck as she accessed my account.  Yes, a new pin had been issued.  Then she scowled.  ‘What this?’  I just waited for her to respond.  My credit card had not been cancelled; instead the account had been closed.  Again she told me I had the worst luck.  By now I was depleted, not mad, just at that stage where you know you have absolutely no control and accept it.  So I now had a pin to a cashpoint card I possess but can’t use and my credit card acct has been closed- great.  Monika put a call through to the company and got it reinstated but while on hold states that I have been treated very poorly and I should definitely file a complaint.  Not wanting to commit to anything I respond by asking if this can be done online.  Silly me for even thinking this could be done!  Even though the postal service is known to be flawed, all complaints have to be mailed.  By now it is really getting late and I need to get back if I have any hope in hell and finishing the broadband install tonight.

Gazza called the number listed below the troubleshooting details and after answering a number of personal info questions we started the process of final install or so I thought.  At some point within the conversation the phone was handed over to me since I was at the computer.  The very quiet Indian lady was instructing us to do certain things that the instructions specifically told us not to do which I, of course, questioned.  Later I gave the phone back to Gazza due to the rep’s very low voice and my inability to understand her.  She ran a line test and a manner of other things before letting us know there was nothing else she was able to do and needed to forward the call to a colleague who would be able to assist us.  As we were on hold the line went dead. 

Neither of us best pleased, called back.  We explained the situation to another rep who said he was able to retrieve his colleague’s notes though we ran the same tests as the previous call with a few others.  He kept putting the line on hold explaining it would be for 2 minutes but it was always much more.  Our time and the phone bill were adding up.  Now I know that as in the contracting world where the standard answer to ‘when will it be ready?’ is always 2 weeks, in the telecom world ‘how long will I be on hold?’ is 2 minutes.  It is rarely 2 weeks and here it was never 2 minutes. Another line test was run and I was again told that there was nothing they could further but that a colleague (never heard that word used so much) would be able to assist.  His colleague explained that the problem wasn’t with the hub but with the line.  The line needed to be closed (whatever that means).  Explanation asked for and no explanation given.  The call returned to the original representative who gave me a number to call in order to close the line.  Why couldn’t he do that?  Or why couldn’t he forward me to that department?  Reason was he was in India and I needed to speak to someone in England!  I have nothing against Indians so please don’t take offense to my comments.  Now my blood was boiling and I asked to speak to a manager.  The man on the other end of the line repeated several time ‘There is nothing I can do; you will have to call the number I gave you.  Not customer resolution methods and I was definitely not deterred.  I was even more determined to speak to his manager.  Finally after this verbal ping pong he put me on hold in order to get a manger but it was only an aversion tactic.  When he returned to the line he told me no managers were available but that one would call in fifteen minutes when they got out of their meeting. 

15 minutes went by.  15 more.  Another rep called later and promised me that he was going to do all he could to get the hub running.  Additionally, he would call tomorrow.  By now, Gazza had called the local and number and spoke to what he thought was a competent individual who assured him that the line would be closed and operable in 30 minutes.  No such luck.

Gazza and I went out for Fish and Chips.

Thursday, May 24th

        I knew I had to be up early today to get over to Portsmouth and back before the BT (British Telecom) engineer was supposed to be at the flat to install the internet and wifi however I did not get off as early as I would have liked.  I headed straight to the bank to see if my credit card had arrived- it had not.  After again explaining the situation to yet another person, this lady finally acted.  She called the credit card company to find out when it had been sent and to see if one could be couriered to me given the circumstances.  Yes, it had been mailed but no such luck on getting one quickly.  So the one that was sent and now 'lost' was cancelled and another was to be issued.  Then I asked about my ATM card which I have but have no pin so it is totally unusable.  I was informed that a new pin cannot be reissued over the phone however a new one will be issued and mailed to me in 3-5 days. 

            Speedy trip down to the library to check email and then headed to Gosport.  Then I began the wait for the engineer.  The time in was great for blogging but it was such a beautiful day that I would have loved to be down the beach.  2pm came and went as did 3,4,5 & 6pm with no engineer.  I called Gazza around 6:15pm to alert him to the status; he called BT only to be told that the engineer did not have to access the flat to set up.  What about the hub?  The hub was mailed separately and should arrive shortly.  Seems communication is not their strong suit, but aren’t they a communications firm?  Hmmmm.

            When Gazza returned there was a notice in the mail box about a package, the router hub we needed.  Go figure?    

Fox sighting: 9:15pm

Wednesday, May 23rd

Tuesday, May 22nd

       My alarm went off at 3:45am and I was much more refreshed than I thought I would be.  Mack called at 4:25am to say he was outside waiting and my little adventure began.  The trip to London Stansted was long, over two hrs, and I started to get a bit nervous since I had never flown from there nor flown Ryanair.  The money I saved on flying this discount airline, which conceptually is based off Southwest, was spent on the taxi fare- it is impossible to take a train from Gosport to Stansted early in the morning: my other alternatives included getting a hotel on Thursday near the airport or spending the night at the airport.

Monday, May 21st

       Paige's alarm and Tammy's phone went off at 2:30am!  The taxi arrived at 3:15am and I was still not really awake.  The ride took less than three minutes and the driver charged an extortionate 12.50 euros!!!  When I did not tip him he called out Ciao Bitch rather than the more heard Ciao Belle. 

Sunday, May 20th

       I awoke feeling much better and did not have any bites!  The apartment was quiet as Paige had traveled to Cinque Terra and Tammy must be out painting.  I was able to see the garden below which Dianne had spoken about.  It was densely overgrown but I could see acanthus in bloom.  There was also a large turtle rumored to be living amongst the growth though I did not see it.  I really did not have a plan although I did want to walk the city, visit the Academie and tour the private garden outside of Fiesole that Dianne recommended. 

    It is amazing how quickly you can remember a city, especially one you walked extensively, even when you haven't visited it in five years.  I left the flat and walked down Nationale towards the station then veered off when the Duomo was in view and somehow happened upon the market.  I should have taken some photos but I didn't.  The market has grown but the wares seem more similar from stall to stall.    

Saturday, May 19th

            We had kept the balcony doors open overnight and I awoke to the light streaming in- there little activity on the street below.  Stella served a 'Continental' continental breakfast of mostly carbs and fruit and after our somewhat late feast the night before it was just right.  We arranged with Stella to leave our bags with her and headed to the lakefront to secure tickets to Isola Bella.  Following a similar path to the one we ventured last night, we encountered a sleepy Saturday morning town.  There were a few people about but we didn't see many until we reached the hotels along the main strip skirting the lake.  Enormous structures doted the lakefront, one after another.  The architecture is a mix of Art Deco and early Twentieth Century Neoclassicism, quite a difference to Tuscany.  We bought tickets to three of the islands on Lago Maggiore but Isola Bella was the one we wanted!  To a landscape architecture student or garden lover, Isola Bella is a site many study but few get to enjoy due to its location. 

A short ferry ride over to the island deposited us to the working part of the island, where there are the typical thin walkways up to shops and apartments.  As you step off the boat you are greeted with stalls selling various 'local' goods and other souvenirs.  The Palace is on the north end of the island, though it is poorly marked and no one to direct you to its whereabouts.  You do not enter from the front but rather a side entrance off of one of the courts with large palms punctuating the boundaries.  If there were cars on the island you would imagine it to be a motor court.  It is quite dark when you enter but as you weave thru the rooms it is surprising bright and light and airy with floor to ceiling windows in the northern rooms.  Unless you go with a large group, there are no tours only headsets and I am not a fan of those so I declined.  Dianne and I wandered throughout the house, taking in spectacular water views and interesting details.  Mostly unfurnished, the wall treatments, ceilings, chandeliers and a few substantial pieces are memorable.  I really liked the blue in the entrance hall and the ceilings throughout, but it was the views out into the garden that stole the show.  Additionally, the grotto rooms were fascinating.

        As you move from room to room, you are unaware of your passage and before you know it you are back in the middle of the island though you do not realize this until you exit the garden.  The scope and scale of the island does not come easily and I only 'got it' after viewing a model in the house and then by walking the entire landmass.  Part of what throws you off but what makes it a great design, are the multiple levels which you transverse and explore.  My words will not do justice to garden so I hope the photos will explain well.

    Following our tour of the garden, Dianne and I enjoyed a beer on one of the many terraces.  To the west we viewed Stresa and towards the east, a wall espaliered with citrus, mainly various lemons, and jasmine.  Between the two it was quite fragrant.  So much to see and so much to take in, if I had it to do over again I would also see the garden in late afternoon, early evening.  Given our time restraints this was not possible and I am still in awe of what we did get to see.

        We island hopped to Isola Superiore dei Pescatori to try the restaurant Ristorante Belvedere we missed the evening before; by a stroke of luck we were able to get a primo table overlooking the lake to the east.  The menu had a lot to offer but Dianne and I both chose the special which included pasta to start, trout main entree, apple pie w/chocolate for dessert, and coffee.  Our primo site might not have been the best when it came to service b/c we have a feeling our waitress forgot about us or we may have been living one of those ads where the Italians are having the eternal meals, it took two hrs and we still had to leave b/4 the coffee so we did not miss the ferry, so we did not miss the busto, so we did not miss the train, so Dianne could get to Rome for her early morning flight =)  We made it!

        Our return trip, Dianne was able to capture a fantastic green roof just outside of Milan and we saw a spectacular allee leading up to a farmhouse in Tuscany.  The allee must have been three quarters of a mile and every tree appeared identical.  Couldn't tell you the variety but resembled sycamores.

        We arrived in Florence, after 8pm, giving Dianne a few choices on getting to Rome which pleased both of us but we did have to get to the apartment to pick up her belongings.  On the way we stopped in  She had been in Florence taking a Watercolor class as an elective to her Masters in Landscape Architecture degree from UTA.  I joined the students at the restaurant for dinner, Pizza Procuitto.  Unfortunately I waited too late to eat and after enjoying a small glass of vino developed a migraine.    Thankfully the flat was close to the restaurant and I could fall into bed!  Due to the heat of the day, the night air was a nice relieve and I kept the windows open.  I did however, heed the warning to keep a fan on me to irritate any mosquitoes.  Apparently Florence has a huge mosquito infestations.

Friday, May 18th

       My alarm went off at 3:45am and I was much more refreshed than I thought I would be.  Mack called at 4:25am to say he was outside waiting and my little adventure began.  The trip to London Stansted was long, over two hrs, and I started to get a bit nervous since I had never flown from there nor flown Ryanair.  The money I saved on flying this discount airline, which conceptually is based off Southwest, was spent on the taxi fare- it is impossible to take a train from Gosport to Stansted early in the morning: my other alternatives included getting a hotel on Thursday near the airport or spending the night at the airport.

        At the airport, I queued in the line for Pisa, carefully watching how others proceeded from the check in to security.  A Terravision staff member approached me and told me the details of the coach transfer to Florence from Pisa.  I had read about this when researching the trip and decided it was the best route for my return, which again was an early morning flight.  Are you beginning to see a trend?  After checking in, I purchased a return coach ticket before heading through security.  This security setup really reminded me of herding cattle- multiple zig zags.  And it took a considerable amount of time.  The first of three check points, here your documents are checked and your personal items are xrayed. Strangely, your shoes are xrayed through a separate machine along the process.  Walking by all the shops inside security, I stopped for a tea and a chocolate croissant to go.  Then another checkpoint, this time for passport control.  I raced to the gate since I had heard Ryanair was strict on their boarding times only to wait for fifteen minutes.  Boarding on this airline, is more like going to a Central American country where you board/deboard on the runway.  Like Southwest, it is open seating.  I found a window seat and no one sat next me which would have made it easier to sleep in the cramped but not overly uncomfortable cabin had I been able to doze off.  Because I did not sleep I saw some great landscapes and I did get one nice shot of the Swiss Alps.

        It was warm and very sunny when I deboarded in Pisa.  Again, my luggage arrived!  A Terravision staff member directed me to yet another queue where I was to get my transfer.  It seemed rather busy and there were a lot of confused individuals asking questions in various languages but mostly Italian, English and broken English.  I soon found out that there was a local train strike.  It equated to a delay for me since a lot of people who were traveling by train were now forced to take a bus and even though I had been assured by the salesperson at Stansted that I would be given first seating since I purchased my ticket there, I had to wait.   Fortunately I had planned on either the 12:45pm train or coach so the times I had sent Dianne to meet in Florence would still be okay.  I called Dianne anyhow to let her know we might have to initiate a Plan B if the trains in Florence were not running.  When I arrived in Florence late I went to our prearranged meeting site of McDonald's but could not find Dianne so I tried calling her and couldn't get her!  I walked around the area, tried to get a connection but still couldn't.  A little bit of panic was creeping over me.  I returned to McDonald's and waited.  I don't know how long I waited but I caught site of a red head and happily knew it was Dianne.

        At the train station we bought our tickets to Milan since Stresa, our final destination, was not appearing.  From my research I knew we would get a connection in Milan so I was not worried.  With tickets in hand I ran off to quickly get a hamburger since I had not eaten for several hrs.  Dianne watched over our bags and kept an eye on the train departures because a track had not yet been assigned our train.  After some confusion trying to read Italian ??? we realized the train was delayed 15 minutes.  The scenery from outside of Florence was at times nice but it wasn't until we caught the 'busto' to Stresa that we saw some really spectacular sights.  A 'busto' is basically light rail but in this case without air conditioning and somewhat dated cars.  Our short stay in Milan allowed us time to sit at a cafe and have a coffee (me) and a beer (Dianne).  The cafe was across from Milan Centrale and next to the hotel I stayed at when I was in Milan in 2002.

        When we arrived in Stresa, around 8:30pm, I was officially tired and my memory was far from dependable.  I had printed the day before what I thought was what I needed for the trip however not all details in the email had printed.  Of most importance was the name and address of the B & B!  My memory thought La Stresalina but it was really La Stellina.  When we couldn't find it in the phone book Dianne asked at the train stop cafe.  Like I vaguely remembered it was a few blocks from the station.  This was a moment when I wouldn't have been surprised if Dianne had been a bit upset with me =) 

        Downhill and at the outskirts of the main center of town, we found our B & B, www.lastellina.com. The Hotelier, Stella, was surprising young but extremely helpful and our room, The Azalea, was exquisite.  Set on the first floor (second floor to Americans) the room had a small marble balcony that looked out to the hills that surrounded the Lake.  We did not stay long in the room getting settled and after getting dinner recommendations from Stella walked through the granite cobbled streets to the first of her mainland suggestions.  (She had suggested a trip to Isola Supperiore, but after making a call found that the restaurant had closed for the evening.)  It looked fine but did not have the atmosphere we had hoped for so we continued walking.  We didn't have to go far to find a large piazza or square that housed many restaurants and was alive with music.  After reviewing all the menus, we chose one that had the best presentation of the local trout we were after.  We ordered the house wine and the trout and were enjoying our surroundings when the waiter informed us that they had no more trout!  Now used to changing our plans, I chose the sea bass and Dianne had Sole Miller's Style- the meal was nice even if it wasn't trout. 

        Following dinner, we walked down almost to the Lake's edge and then wound around the small alleys and streets back to the piazza where we had eaten.  Having caught our second wind, we happened upon a small Biergarten off the beaten path and went in for a bit of the local scene.  Asking the bartender for local recommendations, she informed us she did not drink, but would ask someone.  As we were waiting an American came over and offered some choices; he then invited us to join him and his friends in the garden.  He introduced himself as Thaddius and we also met Mario and Joanne.  Thaddius and Joanne are chefs in training and are part of eight from Ohio who have been in the region apprenticing for ten weeks.  Mario is Joanne's Italian boyfriend.  Not much of a beer drinker I did not really like either of our selections but the unexpected insight in this region from both a local and Americans temporarily living there was nice.  Lago Maggiore is a massive lake and is surrounded by both Italy and Switzerland.  There are many resorts along the shore but Stresa seems to be one of the larger and is visited by mainly Swiss, Germans and Italians, though English was the fourth language on all the menus and notices around town.  

Thursday, May 17th

        I caught an early ferry over to Portsmouth since before I had left for the UK I had set up a 9:30am mtg with the Bank.  Not sure how much time it would really take me I gave myself plenty of time to spare.  Five minute walk to the Ferry Pier, four minute crossing, two minute walk to catch the bus into the City Centre, seven minute bus ride and I was there.  Pretty easy.  With time to spare I walked around a bit, at first glance it seemed much the same with a new few stores but not radically different.  I knew my mtg at the bank would be long but I never imagined 2hrs!  My existing acct needed to be upgraded plus applying for a credit card and an ATM (Cash Point) card, etc, etc, etc . . .   The young man who was helping me assured me that I would receive my cards before my trip to Rome which made me very happy since I hate to carry around cash and I don't want to use my US cards due to additional international fees.  After leaving the bank, I walked through the Cascades, a somewhat enclosed shopping center.  Again, not much seemed to change.  I stopped into the Oxygen 2 store to 'top off' my mobile minutes.  Also added International calling so I could easily call home. From there I decided I needed some fish and chips so I walked down Commercial Road, Portsmouth's main high street, to where I thought one was.  Not there!  Back up and along a side street, no.  I continued my search by the city station thru the Guildhall Square and by the University.  Plenty of Pasty Shops but no Chippies. 

        At this point the Spinnaker Tower was in sight and I knew there would be one down at Gunwharf Quays or by The Hard so onward I walked.  This walk is where I noticed an enormous amount of change to the city.  Spinnaker Tower, for one, is new as well as most of the development around Gunwharf Quay.  Gunwharf is a multi use development that's main attraction is high end store outlets- Burberry, Ecco, Ralph Lauren, French Connection, etc.  At the Gunwharf I asked a Police Officer for a fish shop recommendation and she sent me to one by the historic dockyards.  I ordered standard cod and small chips with a coke open wrapped.  Basically their way of saying to go but easy to eat as you walk.  The man behind the counter let me put my own salt and vinegar on which was a mistake- I did not add nearly enough vinegar.  Since I was at the dockyards I found a seat overlooking the harbour and right in front of HMS Warrior.  I 'shared' my lunch with a few pigeons who were quite friendly.  With an open wrap it is quite normal to loose a few chips while you balance the lot on your knees and these birds eagerly scurried under the bench to capture my discards.  Additionally from this vantage point, I could see my flat across the water.

       Before alighting the ferry back to Gosport, I hit the City Information Office and the shops at Gunwharf.  I had only been there once before and that was in 2003 when I was in Portsmouth for my Nan's funeral.  I had bought some tops from Benetton and Laura Ashley which both seemed to have closed.  My purchases today included Cadbury Mini Eggs and a towel set from Marks & Spensers, however I did linger in Clark's and Dorothy Perkins.  After the quick ferry ride across I walked back to an empty apartment.  I read some leaflets I had picked up about events in and around the island, then tried to find an internet connection and while doing so Gazza returned.  I mentioned that I needed to check my email since what I needed for my weekend trip to Tuscany & Northern Italy was in my acct and not on my laptop.  I had looked all over for an Internet Cafe in town but couldn't find one.  We went down to the Library and he signed me in.  An hour raced by but I was able to respond to any pressing messages and print out my details for the trip.  Or so I thought.  I tried to get to sleep early but my internal clock was still not set to this new time zone.

Wednesday, May 16th

Arrived Gatwick 7am

        All my baggage arrived safely (thankfully) and I was soon through customs.  Mack, a taxi driver my family uses when in Portsmouth, picked me up at the airport.  Unbelievably I was still very awake and we chatted all the way to Gosport which took about two hrs.  Mack drove a scenic route, through little villages and along some country thoroughfares which was great.  He even stopped at the South Downs and I took my first shot in England!  

Arrive Gosport 9:30am

    After a bit of confusion on how to reach the right entrance on the all pedestrian High Street where I was to meet Gazza (family friend and new roommate) at his shop, Oggy Oggy Pasty,  we finally found it.  Gazza hopped in the taxi and we drove the few blocks down to his flat.  Sited right on the marina, the new build flat fits me quite nicely!  Contemporary but not stark- maple doors and cabinetry throughout, high ceilings, textured berber, and the same color straw on the walls as in my bedroom at 1703.  Plus the view!  As I write I am have  a backdrop of sailboats, ferry liners and even a warship.  Not bad.  I spent the rest of the morning and the early afternoon unpacking and getting my bearings.  I strolled down the high street and bought some essentials such as coat hangers.  Also looked into mobile phones.  Gazza had provided me with a Pay-As-You-Go so I did have one but I wanted to see what options were available.  Much more complicated than the US!  The sun that I had seen earlier in the day was now hidden amongst the clouds and it had turned a bit cold.  Finally I hit that proverbial brick wall and crashed about 2:30pm.  I awoke to the ringing of my phone at some point and had a rather confused conversation re: the sale of my car.  Sorry Burt!  I vaguely remember calling home but don't recall the details.  Somewhere around 10pm I awoke hunger and thirsty.  Gazza brought in milk and Weetabix so I was well taken care of.  He and I had a long chat, catching up before I again retreated to bed after midnight.

 

Tuesday, May 15th

I departed Dallas for Raleigh Durham at 11:35am - As one would expect from me, it was a very emotional good bye to Mum and Dad.  A last minute gate change from Terminal A to C cut our time short but I did have my first ride on the monorail. 

Arrived Raleigh at 3pm, exhausted from the night before (2 hrs sleep), I sat at a bar and had a Guinness Shandy and Chili hoping it would loll me into sleep when airborne.  Chatted w/70+ couple whilst waiting- they met in England when he was stationed there in WWII, now live outside Raleigh.  They are headed across the pond for their annual visit to visit her family.  She is quite the gardener and showed me some photos of her garden, specifically azaleas.  Quite impressive!

Departed Raleigh Durham for London at 6:30pm - Ticket issue: went through the boarding pass desk and the Agent couldn't get the ticket to scan.  I had just sat down on the plane when a stewardess asked for my ticket again and then after returning it to me came back, now a third time, and requested my passport.  I made friends quickly with my fellow passengers =)  The gentleman who sat next to me was very nice, used to live in Plano but now Austin.  Still don't know exactly what his company does but apparently we all use the technology on a daily basis he helps develop.  He was going over for meetings, most which are held at the airport.  Dinner (Beef in a mushroom sauce) was served and I watched Music & Lyrics.  Not bad.  Tried to sleep but only managed a few minutes here and there.  Did enjoy the stars though, I guess I have always managed to sleep b/4 and did not realize they were visible from a plane.  Lovely warm croissant for breakfast, quite good food for an airline.  After a somewhat bumpy landing into Gatwick, we taxied a bit to the gate.  Along the way I saw a quintessential English scene: A couple dressed in country garb with walking sticks, taking their dogs out for a morning run.  The mist was lingering on the grass and I half expected to see a fox.