More tomorrow…
13 April 2009
The Big Bad Chronicles of Shammrockin' Junkets through the Land of Leprechauns (The Irish Edition)
Ireland is a place I'd always kept near the top of my must-see destinations, right up there with Zanzibar, Antarctica and a Swiss chocolate factory. Hand me nearly a week of free time to travel at leisure, and naturally I will make one of these my destination.
Ireland "Picturesque" was all I could envision; greens and rolling hills, wide open spaces and blue water. I must say, I was right on the money.
We set off on Thursday morning, jumped three trains through Wales and then finally, a ferry (cousin of a cruise ship, complete with crazy overpriced concessions and comfy chairs) from Holyhead to the Dublin port. It was a long, but really cool journey. I'm glad we took the train/ferry route, as I saw English countryside and got to feel like I was on the Titanic.
The Ulysses brought us safely to Ireland.
WE. MADE. IT! My travel buddies Shayla and Kayla and I greet Ireland!
On the ferry, freshly arrived in windy Dublin.
After jumping a bus to the Dublin city centre, my travel companions and I tracked down hostel numero uno. I was a bit sketched out because we'd arranged to stay in a mixed room of 18 people. Awkward would describe this, also uncomfortable; we were surrounded by men in their 30's to 50's, many whose faces I never saw, only their shape under a comforter. I might have slept with an eye open, and even with my belongings securely locked up, I felt slightly paranoid. This was just for an evening, luckily, and the next morning we trekked to our departure point to begin our 3-day bus tour of Northern Ireland.
Groggy, greasy, and half awake, I boarded our coach, surrounded by the unfamiliarity of foreign faces and idiom. My awareness kept me awake, and soon I became accustomed to the context, and the Irish countryside.
Within the first hour of driving, I witnessed not one but two rainbows. It was like something straight out of a Lucky Charms commercial, minus the leprechaun. That day included a number of stops to our destination, Derry: a trip to the twelfth century Anglo Norman Trim Castle, then a long hike to the top of an epic hill to see the prehistoric tombs at Lough Crew. We ventured through Enniskillen and Omagh, two Northern towns with a violent history between Republicans and Loyalists.
That evening in Derry we got the low down on the history of the city, from medieval times to the recent protests (Derry is the site of Bloody Sunday), and visited many murals and Bogside where the fatal incidents occurred. A acutely grave experience, but extremely insightful. I felt very naive in my ignorance, having maintained I should know these things that are going on around the world.
The tour's end led a group to a fantastic restaurant, where I had my first taste of goat's cheese, rizotto, and pea and lentil soup. And of course, a night in Ireland must be capped by a visit to the local pub. The one we went to was packed, with live music, the whole bit. Locals everywhere having a wild evening about the town, and plenty of drink. I enjoyed a cider and got to know the others I was on tour with, before heading back for a night of sleep at a less sketchy hostel (no more of that 18 person room business)!
Saturday was chilly. We made our way to the coast en route to Belfast. A coastal drive led us to the 16th century Dunlace Castle perched at the extreme edge of a cliff on the Antrim Coast (legend claims that during a party one evening, the kitchen collapsed into the sea). From there it was just minutes to Giant's Causeway, brilliant stones and beautiful water. It was so incredibly cold, but I forced myself to enjoy the moment. I knew I was lucky to be in such a place.
At Giant's Causeway, Antrim Coast.
Perfect stones at Giant's Causeway. God only knows how this was formed.
The pace changed as we visited the world's oldest whiskey distillery, Bushmill's, which has been around since 1608. I didn't drink (whiskey, yuck!) just enjoyed watching others sample.
Hours later we made it into Belfast, and rested up before catching a nice dinner (across the street from the Hotel Europa, Belfast's most bombed building). We moved to a pub next door that was absolutely decked to the nines, floor to ceiling, with character. Again, a great Irish atmosphere. I turned in early, but not to the sound of silent streets; rather, sirens and voices could be heard from below, all through the night. Belfast never sleeps.
Hotel Europa, infamous for bombing.
And then it was Easter. The morning brought a "Black Cab Tour" of Belfast — our group was escorted around in, you guessed it — black cabs. We visited the infamous neighborhoods of the city, where all sorts of chaos has occurred throughout the past decades, even up to today. The giant barrier between Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods is smothered with graffiti expressing the wishes for peace. By the sounds of the tour guides, the people of Northern Ireland are still scraping for harmony and normalcy in their lives.
Wall in Belfast separating conflicting neighborhoods.
Murals in Belfast.
Glass scattered on the grounds of a Protestant neighborhood in Belfast. You can see in the distance some of the many murals painted on the sides of buildings, commemorating those that lost their lives amongst the conflict.
We slipped out of Belfast in the afternoon, Dublin bound once again. Several of the girls on the tour placed Easter chocolate on our seats in the bus, and this was a highlight of the day. I am so used to having all of the Easter trimmings: eggs, candy, maybe a new pair of socks. A treat made the day feel like a Holiday, and not another day roaming through Irish countryside (not that there's anything wrong with that...!). Nevertheless, it was really neat to spend Easter in a foreign country with a bunch of strangers.
Small town Ireland, on our way to Dublin.
Pit stop at Monasterboice.
I was looking forward to a night in Dublin, though ventures were somewhat dampened by our 6 a.m. flight back to London. I drank my first Guinness* (I wasn't going to leave Ireland without doing so) at the Temple Bar, whilst listening to a wonderful Irish trio play authentic tunes, surrounded by others wallowing in libations. Again, I felt as though I were in a movie. Zig-zagging through the lanes of the city, amidst street lights and celebration, music, and inebriation. It was a strange, beautiful thing. Dublin is strangely beautiful in this sense, that in my opinion, there is not much to say about the landscape itself, but rather the events that take place. By day the setting is monochrome, almost sullen under oft-gray sky, and come evening, it exists in vast color. There is nothing like it, or perhaps — nothing that I have seen.
My first Guinness, at Temple Bar in Dublin.
Atmosphere of Temple Bar
Dublin street
Evening in Dublin. This made me so happy, to see all of these people having a good time!
Evening progressed all too suddenly. A few quick hours of sleep at the hostel and my companions and I were in a taxi, on our way. A plane, then bus ride throughout the afternoon set us in Oxford entirely exhausted.
But Ireland — oh my. What land! What lovely, lovely land.
Ireland "Picturesque" was all I could envision; greens and rolling hills, wide open spaces and blue water. I must say, I was right on the money.
We set off on Thursday morning, jumped three trains through Wales and then finally, a ferry (cousin of a cruise ship, complete with crazy overpriced concessions and comfy chairs) from Holyhead to the Dublin port. It was a long, but really cool journey. I'm glad we took the train/ferry route, as I saw English countryside and got to feel like I was on the Titanic.
The Ulysses brought us safely to Ireland.
WE. MADE. IT! My travel buddies Shayla and Kayla and I greet Ireland!
On the ferry, freshly arrived in windy Dublin.
After jumping a bus to the Dublin city centre, my travel companions and I tracked down hostel numero uno. I was a bit sketched out because we'd arranged to stay in a mixed room of 18 people. Awkward would describe this, also uncomfortable; we were surrounded by men in their 30's to 50's, many whose faces I never saw, only their shape under a comforter. I might have slept with an eye open, and even with my belongings securely locked up, I felt slightly paranoid. This was just for an evening, luckily, and the next morning we trekked to our departure point to begin our 3-day bus tour of Northern Ireland.
Groggy, greasy, and half awake, I boarded our coach, surrounded by the unfamiliarity of foreign faces and idiom. My awareness kept me awake, and soon I became accustomed to the context, and the Irish countryside.
Within the first hour of driving, I witnessed not one but two rainbows. It was like something straight out of a Lucky Charms commercial, minus the leprechaun. That day included a number of stops to our destination, Derry: a trip to the twelfth century Anglo Norman Trim Castle, then a long hike to the top of an epic hill to see the prehistoric tombs at Lough Crew. We ventured through Enniskillen and Omagh, two Northern towns with a violent history between Republicans and Loyalists.
That evening in Derry we got the low down on the history of the city, from medieval times to the recent protests (Derry is the site of Bloody Sunday), and visited many murals and Bogside where the fatal incidents occurred. A acutely grave experience, but extremely insightful. I felt very naive in my ignorance, having maintained I should know these things that are going on around the world.
The tour's end led a group to a fantastic restaurant, where I had my first taste of goat's cheese, rizotto, and pea and lentil soup. And of course, a night in Ireland must be capped by a visit to the local pub. The one we went to was packed, with live music, the whole bit. Locals everywhere having a wild evening about the town, and plenty of drink. I enjoyed a cider and got to know the others I was on tour with, before heading back for a night of sleep at a less sketchy hostel (no more of that 18 person room business)!
Saturday was chilly. We made our way to the coast en route to Belfast. A coastal drive led us to the 16th century Dunlace Castle perched at the extreme edge of a cliff on the Antrim Coast (legend claims that during a party one evening, the kitchen collapsed into the sea). From there it was just minutes to Giant's Causeway, brilliant stones and beautiful water. It was so incredibly cold, but I forced myself to enjoy the moment. I knew I was lucky to be in such a place.
At Giant's Causeway, Antrim Coast.
Perfect stones at Giant's Causeway. God only knows how this was formed.
The pace changed as we visited the world's oldest whiskey distillery, Bushmill's, which has been around since 1608. I didn't drink (whiskey, yuck!) just enjoyed watching others sample.
Hours later we made it into Belfast, and rested up before catching a nice dinner (across the street from the Hotel Europa, Belfast's most bombed building). We moved to a pub next door that was absolutely decked to the nines, floor to ceiling, with character. Again, a great Irish atmosphere. I turned in early, but not to the sound of silent streets; rather, sirens and voices could be heard from below, all through the night. Belfast never sleeps.
Hotel Europa, infamous for bombing.
And then it was Easter. The morning brought a "Black Cab Tour" of Belfast — our group was escorted around in, you guessed it — black cabs. We visited the infamous neighborhoods of the city, where all sorts of chaos has occurred throughout the past decades, even up to today. The giant barrier between Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods is smothered with graffiti expressing the wishes for peace. By the sounds of the tour guides, the people of Northern Ireland are still scraping for harmony and normalcy in their lives.
Wall in Belfast separating conflicting neighborhoods.
Murals in Belfast.
Glass scattered on the grounds of a Protestant neighborhood in Belfast. You can see in the distance some of the many murals painted on the sides of buildings, commemorating those that lost their lives amongst the conflict.
We slipped out of Belfast in the afternoon, Dublin bound once again. Several of the girls on the tour placed Easter chocolate on our seats in the bus, and this was a highlight of the day. I am so used to having all of the Easter trimmings: eggs, candy, maybe a new pair of socks. A treat made the day feel like a Holiday, and not another day roaming through Irish countryside (not that there's anything wrong with that...!). Nevertheless, it was really neat to spend Easter in a foreign country with a bunch of strangers.
Small town Ireland, on our way to Dublin.
Pit stop at Monasterboice.
I was looking forward to a night in Dublin, though ventures were somewhat dampened by our 6 a.m. flight back to London. I drank my first Guinness* (I wasn't going to leave Ireland without doing so) at the Temple Bar, whilst listening to a wonderful Irish trio play authentic tunes, surrounded by others wallowing in libations. Again, I felt as though I were in a movie. Zig-zagging through the lanes of the city, amidst street lights and celebration, music, and inebriation. It was a strange, beautiful thing. Dublin is strangely beautiful in this sense, that in my opinion, there is not much to say about the landscape itself, but rather the events that take place. By day the setting is monochrome, almost sullen under oft-gray sky, and come evening, it exists in vast color. There is nothing like it, or perhaps — nothing that I have seen.
My first Guinness, at Temple Bar in Dublin.
Atmosphere of Temple Bar
Dublin street
Evening in Dublin. This made me so happy, to see all of these people having a good time!
Evening progressed all too suddenly. A few quick hours of sleep at the hostel and my companions and I were in a taxi, on our way. A plane, then bus ride throughout the afternoon set us in Oxford entirely exhausted.
But Ireland — oh my. What land! What lovely, lovely land.
12 April 2009
I just arrived back in Dublin after three glorious days of touring Northern Ireland. I would love to spill every detail right now, but unfortunately am typing from my iPod and it would take forever. I wish I could spend Easter with my family, and it is very weird not doing so. Nevertheless I am having the time of my life in this country. Ireland is truly something else completely apart from what I've experienced in England.
This is my fourth and last night in a hostel before we fly back to London tomorrow. I am looking forward to an Easter night on the town - a nice pub in Temple Bar with friends, good food, live music, and perhaps a bit 'o Guinness!
Love to all, and a grand Easter!
Xo
Jenny
This is my fourth and last night in a hostel before we fly back to London tomorrow. I am looking forward to an Easter night on the town - a nice pub in Temple Bar with friends, good food, live music, and perhaps a bit 'o Guinness!
Love to all, and a grand Easter!
Xo
Jenny
11 April 2009
What the "feck" I'm up to...
I made it to Ireland. Last evening at the hostel in Dublin was very interesting. Tonight we are in Derry, having a grand time with the tour group...onward tomorrow to see more of this beautiful country! Too much to write, but everything is amazing!
Love to 'ya
xo
jc
Love to 'ya
xo
jc
09 April 2009
Back and Forth, Forth and Back
I just returned from a day in Warwick (pronounced War-rick) and Stratford-upon-Avon.
Two things today:
a. I climbed to the top of a castle
and
2. I saw a Shakespeare play performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company…in Shakespeare's hometown (that's a lot of 'Shakespeare').
View from top of Warwick Castle.
Eight hours of stairs later...YES!!
When in Stratford-upon-Avon, do wear fresh flowers in your hair.
OVERJOYED to be standing in front of the home where WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE was birthed. Really.
I'm spent, and I need to get packed/rested for my big journey tomorrow to the Emerald Isle. Whoooo! I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for this!
We depart via train at 0800 (2 a.m. CT), then have a layover before ferrying out. I believe we should arrive sometime around 1600. I am taking just a carry on bag so it's going to be tight packing. Tomorrow evening I will be staying in a hostel in Dublin, and sleeping with my belongings as I am sharing a room with 18 mixed strangers. I am excited with uncertainty!
If I don't post in the next few days (I likely won't have I-net access), I wish everyone a fantastic Easter loaded with family/friends/pets/etc. I know I will be missing my favorite "Progressive Easter" that my family puts on, with wonderful food and even better company! You'll be in my thoughts on Sunday!
Love, and of course as they say here, "cheers"!
xo
jc
Two things today:
a. I climbed to the top of a castle
and
2. I saw a Shakespeare play performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company…in Shakespeare's hometown (that's a lot of 'Shakespeare').
View from top of Warwick Castle.
Eight hours of stairs later...YES!!
When in Stratford-upon-Avon, do wear fresh flowers in your hair.
OVERJOYED to be standing in front of the home where WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE was birthed. Really.
I'm spent, and I need to get packed/rested for my big journey tomorrow to the Emerald Isle. Whoooo! I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for this!
We depart via train at 0800 (2 a.m. CT), then have a layover before ferrying out. I believe we should arrive sometime around 1600. I am taking just a carry on bag so it's going to be tight packing. Tomorrow evening I will be staying in a hostel in Dublin, and sleeping with my belongings as I am sharing a room with 18 mixed strangers. I am excited with uncertainty!
If I don't post in the next few days (I likely won't have I-net access), I wish everyone a fantastic Easter loaded with family/friends/pets/etc. I know I will be missing my favorite "Progressive Easter" that my family puts on, with wonderful food and even better company! You'll be in my thoughts on Sunday!
Love, and of course as they say here, "cheers"!
xo
jc
08 April 2009
London, Episode III: Conquering Single-Handedly.
THIS PAST AUGUST I DID what was, at the time, something incredibly daring for a little lady: I jumped in my car and drove unaccompanied to Minneapolis for the day. Of course I was disoriented for most of the journey, though made it back in one five-foot-one-inch chunk, feeling more of an adult.
I can safely say that today this affair was upstaged. For just after realizing that I indeed had an afternoon free of lecture and nothing to fill my hours, I decided to board a bus to London…by myself.
The strangest part about this endeavor was, I didn't have any idea where I was going and at the same time, I wasn't the least bit scared. I tossed my Rick Steve's Best of Europe 2009 book into my purse, a pocket sized map of the London Underground, and on my way to the station stopped by Wendy's News on High Street to pick up a London map. Then I got on the bus. I didn't think about getting on the bus, and I didn't think about where I was going, or what I was doing. I just got on.
There I sat, on the top of the double decker, in the very first row. I spread out my maps and books, and for the hour ride I studied the city as though I were to be tested in 60 minutes and I absolutely could not fail. When my stop came, I felt confident and primed for an adventure. I jumped off and like a magnet, made my way to the Underground to purchase my day pass to ride. From there it was all a slice of London; a smooth, tasty slice of London.
I'd been dying to see St. Paul's Cathedral since arrival, and so planned it as my first venture. One of my courses has me studying a nice bit of Sir Christopher Wren, the great architect that redesigned a chunk of London after the Great Fire of London destroyed a good deal of the city in 1666. St. Paul's is Wren's masterpiece, and honestly, I'm not certain that he, or anyone, could have exceeded this effort in his lifetime. Years of planning and building erected a wonder, and I wanted to see it straightaway.
Getting off at the nearest station, I rounded a corner and saw it assembled before me.
I wish…I wish I could tell you. I wish I could tell you what I felt. I wish you could feel it, and see it, and understand. I will try.
Think of the biggest building you've seen, be it a football stadium or a Walmart or what have you. Now multiply that building by two or three, change it two Portland stone and decorate it, in the same manner that icing adorns cakes. Embellish it with grand doors and elaborate stairs, columns, the works. Stand before this great structure, and feel the vigor that it secretes from the foundation to the highest point of it's dome.
I already was feeling emotional, and I had yet to see the inside.
It takes a good amount to procure this kind of sentiment from me, but when I walked through the doors I — literally — nearly cried. Call me trite, I know — it's a just a cathedral. I can say without a spot of disbelief, it is the most beautiful building I have ever been in. I circled the aisles for a while, looking from wall to wall, floor to ceiling and thinking of all the great people and events that must have traced the same sectors. And tread upon tread, I had my breath stolen. It is a masterpiece — humbling, epic, divine and beautiful. I could have stayed there for hours.
St. Paul's West Entrance. Glorious.
From the Southeast.
Lovely dome! Ooooo....ahhhh...
NICE WORK WREN!
A photo that I conned a friendly woman into taking. Awkward!
Alas I wandered on, stealing away to the Monument, and further to the Tower of London. I crossed the London Bridge, then jumped the Tube to Oxford Circus for a bit of, well…shopping. This was a tad ridiculous, but I will not argue. I had a great time spending money.
Tower of London. Pictures don't do it justice, I promise!
Tower Bridge. Holy moley!
See — I was there!
"I made it to the Tower of London."
View from the London Bridge, looking toward Tower Bridge.
A timeout for a quick meal ensued, before Tubing back to my bus stop and making the hour journey back to Oxford. There is hardly a single thing I would have changed about the day. I was in heaven the entire time!
So it is, that on this day I forced myself out of a great comfort zone, and into one of most gigantic cities in Europe. And I loved every moment of it.
I am very proud of myself!
Tomorrow I have decided to go to Stratford-upon-Avon with my group, with a side trip to Warwick Castle (-cough- TOURIST TRAP -cough-). I am going to postpone my Wicked viewing/London exploration for another week. It's not every day you get the opportunity to visit the birthplace of Shakespeare!
Whew. I loved today.
Cheers,
jc
I can safely say that today this affair was upstaged. For just after realizing that I indeed had an afternoon free of lecture and nothing to fill my hours, I decided to board a bus to London…by myself.
The strangest part about this endeavor was, I didn't have any idea where I was going and at the same time, I wasn't the least bit scared. I tossed my Rick Steve's Best of Europe 2009 book into my purse, a pocket sized map of the London Underground, and on my way to the station stopped by Wendy's News on High Street to pick up a London map. Then I got on the bus. I didn't think about getting on the bus, and I didn't think about where I was going, or what I was doing. I just got on.
There I sat, on the top of the double decker, in the very first row. I spread out my maps and books, and for the hour ride I studied the city as though I were to be tested in 60 minutes and I absolutely could not fail. When my stop came, I felt confident and primed for an adventure. I jumped off and like a magnet, made my way to the Underground to purchase my day pass to ride. From there it was all a slice of London; a smooth, tasty slice of London.
I'd been dying to see St. Paul's Cathedral since arrival, and so planned it as my first venture. One of my courses has me studying a nice bit of Sir Christopher Wren, the great architect that redesigned a chunk of London after the Great Fire of London destroyed a good deal of the city in 1666. St. Paul's is Wren's masterpiece, and honestly, I'm not certain that he, or anyone, could have exceeded this effort in his lifetime. Years of planning and building erected a wonder, and I wanted to see it straightaway.
Getting off at the nearest station, I rounded a corner and saw it assembled before me.
I wish…I wish I could tell you. I wish I could tell you what I felt. I wish you could feel it, and see it, and understand. I will try.
Think of the biggest building you've seen, be it a football stadium or a Walmart or what have you. Now multiply that building by two or three, change it two Portland stone and decorate it, in the same manner that icing adorns cakes. Embellish it with grand doors and elaborate stairs, columns, the works. Stand before this great structure, and feel the vigor that it secretes from the foundation to the highest point of it's dome.
I already was feeling emotional, and I had yet to see the inside.
It takes a good amount to procure this kind of sentiment from me, but when I walked through the doors I — literally — nearly cried. Call me trite, I know — it's a just a cathedral. I can say without a spot of disbelief, it is the most beautiful building I have ever been in. I circled the aisles for a while, looking from wall to wall, floor to ceiling and thinking of all the great people and events that must have traced the same sectors. And tread upon tread, I had my breath stolen. It is a masterpiece — humbling, epic, divine and beautiful. I could have stayed there for hours.
St. Paul's West Entrance. Glorious.
From the Southeast.
Lovely dome! Ooooo....ahhhh...
NICE WORK WREN!
A photo that I conned a friendly woman into taking. Awkward!
Alas I wandered on, stealing away to the Monument, and further to the Tower of London. I crossed the London Bridge, then jumped the Tube to Oxford Circus for a bit of, well…shopping. This was a tad ridiculous, but I will not argue. I had a great time spending money.
Tower of London. Pictures don't do it justice, I promise!
Tower Bridge. Holy moley!
See — I was there!
"I made it to the Tower of London."
View from the London Bridge, looking toward Tower Bridge.
A timeout for a quick meal ensued, before Tubing back to my bus stop and making the hour journey back to Oxford. There is hardly a single thing I would have changed about the day. I was in heaven the entire time!
So it is, that on this day I forced myself out of a great comfort zone, and into one of most gigantic cities in Europe. And I loved every moment of it.
I am very proud of myself!
Tomorrow I have decided to go to Stratford-upon-Avon with my group, with a side trip to Warwick Castle (-cough- TOURIST TRAP -cough-). I am going to postpone my Wicked viewing/London exploration for another week. It's not every day you get the opportunity to visit the birthplace of Shakespeare!
Whew. I loved today.
Cheers,
jc
06 April 2009
London, Episode II: The Down Low
THE PROBLEM WITH LONDON IS, outside of being magnificent, it's so gigantic that you can feel it swallowing you. The city laughs at you, because it finds it hilarious that there is so much within it that you'll never get to see. And also too, London leaves one tuckered out (I'd say the equivalent feeling of a dog's chew toy) so you are left with zero energy to share your adventures.
We landed (alright, we were on a bus) in London around 1030 yesterday morning, once again blessed with beautiful weather. I took off at the Notting Hill Gate stop. First order of business was cappuccino, and I entered the first Non-Starbucks establishment I saw (love Starbucks, but I am boycotting them while I'm here). A quiet, cute café with a super cheesy sign out front. Perfect. When we walked in, I realized that the place was a tribute to Princess Di, and the walls were plastered with her image. I bought a terrible 0.90p cappuccino (you really do get what you pay for) and was off to wander the beautiful neighborhoods of Notting Hill.
I immediately loved this area. First, it is 18 million times cuter and quieter than touristy Central London. The people walking down the streets actually look like LOCALS! And there is character abound: colorful houses, buildings, and shops.
The only plan for Notting Hill was to get lost in it, which was a great idea since we eventually ended up at the Portobello Market. What a FANTASTIC thing to stumble upon!! Portobello is supposedly one of the top tourist attractions in London. I'd heard of it, but wow. Literally, one of the neatest things I've experienced. The shops had their goods on the sidewalks, hoards of antiques, jewelry, clothing, and knick knacks. There were so many goods I wish I could have bought. There was SO much. It is truly a traveler's woe, to see all of those things and know you cannot fit them in a suitcase. Nevertheless, I bought a beautiful dress.
More wandering, and we eventually found a Tube station. I was overcome with a nervous excitement, as I'd never ridden on the London Underground, though I'd heard only excellent things. A mere £5.40 gets you around at lightning speed for an entire day — and the system is fool-proof: color-coded, well organized and slick. Everything is glorious and self-explanatory. To sweeten the deal, the Underground system uses a beautiful font throughout, and displays great artwork around the stations. You really, really can't go wrong.
I didn't do too much in the evening outside of eating a wonderful lunch at the Victoria & Albert museum before perusing the works, and a bit of exploring the South Bank. Surprisingly my feet still managed to wear out.
I believe I am going again on Wednesday, for more exploring and to see Wicked in the evening. On Thursday I am jumping the train + ferry (we decided on the scenic route) to Ireland for Easter.
All is calm here — and hopefully, all is well with all you lovelies and mates across the ocean!
xo
jc
We landed (alright, we were on a bus) in London around 1030 yesterday morning, once again blessed with beautiful weather. I took off at the Notting Hill Gate stop. First order of business was cappuccino, and I entered the first Non-Starbucks establishment I saw (love Starbucks, but I am boycotting them while I'm here). A quiet, cute café with a super cheesy sign out front. Perfect. When we walked in, I realized that the place was a tribute to Princess Di, and the walls were plastered with her image. I bought a terrible 0.90p cappuccino (you really do get what you pay for) and was off to wander the beautiful neighborhoods of Notting Hill.
I immediately loved this area. First, it is 18 million times cuter and quieter than touristy Central London. The people walking down the streets actually look like LOCALS! And there is character abound: colorful houses, buildings, and shops.
The only plan for Notting Hill was to get lost in it, which was a great idea since we eventually ended up at the Portobello Market. What a FANTASTIC thing to stumble upon!! Portobello is supposedly one of the top tourist attractions in London. I'd heard of it, but wow. Literally, one of the neatest things I've experienced. The shops had their goods on the sidewalks, hoards of antiques, jewelry, clothing, and knick knacks. There were so many goods I wish I could have bought. There was SO much. It is truly a traveler's woe, to see all of those things and know you cannot fit them in a suitcase. Nevertheless, I bought a beautiful dress.
More wandering, and we eventually found a Tube station. I was overcome with a nervous excitement, as I'd never ridden on the London Underground, though I'd heard only excellent things. A mere £5.40 gets you around at lightning speed for an entire day — and the system is fool-proof: color-coded, well organized and slick. Everything is glorious and self-explanatory. To sweeten the deal, the Underground system uses a beautiful font throughout, and displays great artwork around the stations. You really, really can't go wrong.
I didn't do too much in the evening outside of eating a wonderful lunch at the Victoria & Albert museum before perusing the works, and a bit of exploring the South Bank. Surprisingly my feet still managed to wear out.
I believe I am going again on Wednesday, for more exploring and to see Wicked in the evening. On Thursday I am jumping the train + ferry (we decided on the scenic route) to Ireland for Easter.
All is calm here — and hopefully, all is well with all you lovelies and mates across the ocean!
xo
jc
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