Gallivanting in Europe

Working my hamstrings

travelcrazed — Thu, 1 Sep 2011 18:04:00 GMT

The steep hills and streets of Edinburgh must exist to balance out all the drinking they do. Down the bottom of the Royal Mile, near Holyrood House and the ghastly Parliament Building, is Arthur's Seat. From street view, it's nothing impressive. A trail of people can be seen walking up the face of hill and disappearing around the side. There's a map at the start which informed me that Arthur's Seat, the highest peak, is somewhere in the middle of the dormant volcano. It was to be the only map along the entire walk. I was told by some travellers in my hostel that it takes 45 minutes to reach Arthur's Seat and get back again. However lack of maps or signs and paths converging whenever they wanted made my walk longer and more confusing. It took me 3 hours to reach the peak. My route, whatever it was, gave me wonderful views out over Edinburgh. Scrambling up to the peak itself is very rocky and only a few people can fit at the one time. Arthur's Seat is 250 metres above sea level.

The walk back up the Royal Mile to my hostel is painful after visiting Arthur's. Locals walk around the old town like it's nothing. The new town is much more flat and comprehensible however it doesn't have the old town's charm. Edinburgh is a huge city, the fourth biggest in the UK, and if they could remove the bagpipe buskers and tacky souvenir shops, I could amuse myself here for weeks.

Mmm haggis!

travelcrazed — Tue, 30 Aug 2011 21:51:00 GMT

I highly recommend the Sandeman's 3 hour walking tour of Edinburgh. Our guide Andy was a fast-talking, enthusiatic Scottish lad who seemed to know all the old and new interesting tid-bits of the city. The tour started up The Royal Mile of course but frequently ducked into the dim, narrow closes. He told us the spirit crushing truth that the famous Greyfriar's Bobby, a dog that visited his master's grave everyday for 14 years, was probably bribed to the spot by food by the local friar to increase tourism in the area. Nevertheless his statue is the most photographed spot in Edinburgh.

Me and a few of the tour group followed Andy to the 1780 pub for haggis. I was rather apprehensive to try minced sheep organs but whenn the dish came out, resembling a sheppard's pie, covered in whisky sauce, it was really nice! Haggis has a surprisingly sweet taste, like carmelised onions, mixed with meat, oats and mashed potato. The company was pretty good too; a couple from South Africa talked about how bribes are a way of life and how once when their house was getting robbed, they called the police who asked them what the names of the robbers were. Maybe I'll drag someone along with me if I travel to South Africa in the future.

That night I met up with Kieron and Emma at the pub where I tasted my first whisky at the ripe age of fifteen. Scots are a bad influence on me. Whisky, translated in Gaelic means the water of life, and is highly regarded in Edinburgh. Get someone to teach you how to drink it because my first swig was a shocker. The pubs are fairly nice on the Royal Mile if you don't mind the bagpipe music coming from the hundreds of souvenir shops nearby.

Looking down on Durham and looking up at the Angel of the North

travelcrazed — Mon, 29 Aug 2011 21:37:00 GMT

I've been couch surfing for two weeks and already I'm an ambassador! John and I stopped by his mother's place on our way to Durham. She disapproves of her son hosting travellers but had yet to meet one. While John tinkered with her broken tv, his mother showed me around her cute brick house. I adored her sunroom which overlooked her long, narrow garden (a common feature of Newcastle houses). Her one-armed gardener tends to it once a week and it is gorgeous! Flowers grew against the fence and in the middle of the lawn her plum tree was beginning to show fruit which she'll soon make into jam. She and her house suited one another - lively, neat and very British. She had the same accent as the ten second cameo grandmother in About A Boy, "Are we having duck? Delicious!"

The extent of John's love for photography I didn't realise until he opened the back of his van. In it was a door, a kiddie's chair and a bag of costume dresses. "I'm not a crossdresser, they were my girlfriend's." Sure sure John. To prove it, he showed me pictures he took of his ex dressed in colourful vintage outfits, posing on the moors. They're good enough to go in a magazine.

In Durham we split up.

The Durham Cathedral was something spectacular. It's worth following a guide to learn the history of the prince bishops and what all the designs mean. It was Britain's first World Heritage Site and worth a look at.

At this point of my trip, a lot of the churches and cathedrals begin to resemble one another. This one stood out because throughout the cathedral there were peculiar works of art. One at the back was called the Pieta sculpture by Fenwick Lawson which involved two bodies carved into tree logs, the upright log Mary held her hand outstretched to her fallen song log Jesus. I found it the most striking out of all the odd artworks.

Another aspect of this cathedral that took my fancy were the 300-something stairs leading up to the lookout. It's a 5 pound admittance and worth it. A family of three paid and walked up behind me but at halfway the staircase became very narrow and dizzingly spiral. Against the protests of the father, the mother and son chickened out and turned back. The view from the top was spectacular, especially over the college and grounds.

No visit to Newcastle is complete without a look and a dozen photos of the Angel of the North, a massive 200 tonne steel sculpture that can be seen from the motorway, a strange place to put it in my opinion. It doesn't look that great in pictures but in real life it's amazing to stand and strain your neck up at it.

Later that night I arrived in Edinburgh on the last day of the Fringe Festival. Street poles bulged with flyers on the Royal Mile and litter gathered in the gutters underneath a lonely festival banner. Disappointed that I had missed the festival, Edinburgh was dark and quiet.

Eeeh man, ahm gannin te the booza. John went to a pub to use the wifi and I explored around town. The track alongside the river is very pretty and green. Across the water the college spires poked over the trees, a teaser which was impossible to good a full look until I was out of the park and through the college gates. Durham University is a prestigous school with very neatly organised buildings. I wonder if the students walk around in Lacoste and play polo?

Along the Tyne

travelcrazed — Sun, 28 Aug 2011 20:06:00 GMT

Early Sunday morning, John took me out for a walk along the seven bridges whereby my constant mocking of the Tyne Bridge, a miniture version of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, must've gotten annoying. John is very keen on photography and so was a great walking companion as we both frequently paused to set up a shot. Along the river Tyne, markets were set up boasting interesting nicknacks and delicious treats. I was powerless before a Malteaser brownie which was really really good!

Across the river is the BALTIC Centre for Contemporary Art, a huge disappointment. Each floor was reserved for one or two artists displaying abstract mounds, painted geometry sets and videos that induce epilepsy. So much good gallery space wasted! Only one exhibition I liked, thread masks sewn on to black and white portraits, courtesy of Maurizio Anzeri.

Further along the river there lie four isolated pubs. It's popular to trek from one to the other in a single night, however they're a good 10-15 minutes walk away from the city centre and even John can't explain why people go to them. I wonder if Geordies look forward to or get sick of the routine of Sunday roasts? We stopped for a roast in a pub called The Cluny in Ouseburn. It's hit and miss with pub roasts, especially late in the afternoon when what's leftover is either piled on to your plate or scraped off pans into a sad little heap. Our lamb roast, mash, peas and yorkshire pudding looked hot and yummy, though it was the first time I tried yorkshire pudding - it's just pastry and gravy. I don't get the appeal?

A day of food

travelcrazed — Sat, 27 Aug 2011 07:19:00 GMT

"So where are we going tonight?" asked Michael, the army man with a charming Scottish accent.

"Guess"

"Maggies," was his quick reply. Magnesia Bank pub is where my hosts Jana and Michael met. Jana caught Michael's eye because she was wearing more clothes than anybody else around. Geordies in Newcastle like to save on clothing material, I would later find out.

On the walk to Maggies we discovered that there is a difference between waterproof and water resistant. Michael's water resistant jacket gets soaked in anything more than a drizzle. The pub was nice and warm, especially when Jana and I began dancing to the live music. Someone has to start the dancefloor though it didn't quite catch on.

The next day Michael and I went out to walk along the coast and grab some ice-cream. Looking like kids, we wandered along the grey sand licking strawberry and bubblegum ice-cream cones, topped with sprinkles of course. The beach is a flat stretch of shallow water. Despite the dogs prohibited signs, a dozen dogs ran happily from one side of the bay to the other. In comparison to Australia, the Newcastle coast has a very different view; St Mary's Lighthouse off in the distance, a castle turned radio station, and a few surfers who braved the freezing water.

Back in the city we walked around lost. Michael is fairly new to Newcastle and hadn't explored the terrain. The easiest way to locate oneself is by Grey's Monument, a tribute to Earl Grey for passing the Great Reform Act. Lucky chap got a massive statue of himself in the middle of the city AND a brand of tea! We had lunch at Cafe Neon on Bigg Market; my Neon Burger was so tasty and filling but it was a shame the side of fries were thin, crispy and cold.

It was to be a killer day food-wise. My next host for the evening, John a lovely English guy and a perpetual offerer of tea or coffee, was cooking pork tortillas. It was so good I ate the crackle off the pan. His friend Julia joined us for the evening and shared her insight to the infamous Geordie culture, which I was yet to fully experience. Unfortunately neither John nor Julie are true Geordies so that didn't have the accent but could do a fairly good imitation - "

Ye knaa what ah mean leik"

Bronte in Bronte country

travelcrazed — Thu, 25 Aug 2011 18:49:00 GMT

Bronteland, the streets are cobblestoned and steep. There aren't as many shops as I expected called 'Bronte (insert shop type here)'. There are the typical cute boutiques and cafes with snatches of west Yorkshire scenery in between. To the left, at the top of the hill, is the church where Patrick Bronte, the father of the Bronte sisters, preached. I'd heard tales of what a cruel father Patrick had been but according to records he was deidicated to restoring the town. Particularly interested in new medical science, he was chairman for the Haworth council for sanitation. These facts completely reversed my position on him. It's nice to think that the church pews are where the Bronte family sat and prayed but actually most of the church was destroyed in the 19th century so for them it would've loked completely different.

I wonder if there's a special discounted entrance fee for visitors named Bronte but I was too chicken to ask. There are a surprising amount of rooms in the parsonage. On the bottom floor living area, there was a table situated in the middle with writing instruments strewn all over it. It's the room where Charlotte, Emily and Anne wrote their novels and also contains the couch on which Emily died. People I know have different methods of putting pen to paper, whether it's absolute solitude (moi), background music, a window view, coffee and cigarettes etc, but it seemed all three Brontes were able to work well in a shared space. I think it shows how close they were as sisters and why their writing style is similiar.

The parsonage was very informative. I'm amazed that The Bronte Society was able to track down so many personal belongings of the Brontes considering that they wrote under the pseudonym Bell and weren't trully appreciated until after their deaths. The upstairs rooms contained Branwell's painting, Charlotte's dress, first editions of their books and writing kits. I could've spent hours there.

Surrounding the parsonage were several great walking tracks. The first went round the back of the house and led up to a rocky hill that overlooked Yorkshire. The grass was tall and yellowy-green leading down towards the road and the fields smelt faintly of dung. A rabbit emerged from the side of the hill and ran out in front of me, too quick for a picture. Apart from the single string of houses directly in front and a cluster off to the side, the view was wonderfully empty.

Late in the afternoon when I was preparing to head back to York, I noticed a number of people walking through the graveyard in between the church and the Bronte house. I really don't understand why graveyards are tourist attractions - way too eerie for me. However I quickly wandered through and am so glad I did because half a kilometre later there was a sign that directed to Bronte Falls. A quick calculation told me that I could make it to and from the falls (altogether 5 miles) before it got dark (approx 2 hours) if I speedwalked, olympics style. The 360 views were incredible and made the rocky-hill-behind-the-house view look like a pathetic Penguin biscuit next to a Timtam. At this time I also figured out how to record views on my camera however at the Usain Bolt speed I was going, my videos were a tad shaky. The falls turned out to be more of a trickle but the journey made up for the destination. It's always the trips I don't plan on going that are incredible.

Photos: Yorkshire

travelcrazed — Thu, 25 Aug 2011 00:37:00 GMT

York and Haworth

Checking out nudes in York

travelcrazed — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 05:04:00 GMT

5 years ago when I visited York and the only things I remember were eating rock cake, seeing York Minster and buying a funky watch. I was on a mission to find those places again, starting with the rock cake of course. In the city centre I wandered around, walking too closely to other people to hear their Yorkshire accent which if I've been following the right people goes something like this - "You alright luv? The minster's ov'r tere innit. Now I'm off teh Greggs teh get me a pasty." Apart from the accent, what separated the locals from the tourists were brightly coloured and cropped hair, and their incredibly skinny and lanky appearance.

A few streets into the city centre and I found a very popular cafe called Betty's, and from here I bought a Yorkshire Fat Rascal. This is the cake that I remember. It's like a dense scone made of flour, dried fruit, maraschino cherries and almonds to decorate. According to the bag it's best eaten when warmed with butter. The other sweets and cakes in the shop looked devine and I can understand why the cafe is so popular.

Near York Minster, which is one of the largest Gothic cathedrals in Northern Europe, there are some lovely gardens and pathways. I wandered through Earl's Court to reach the York city wall which gave a spectacular view of the Minster from afar. The walls were in pretty good nick, very narrow but fairly intact considering how old they are, and wound their way around York city. I came out through Monk Bar (a gate not a drinking place) which faces York Art Gallery. The William Etty exhibition was on, the 19th century Yorkshire artist renowned for painting nudes, which created a lot of controversy at the time but I thought were quite brilliant. Most of his paintings are adaptations of biblical stories so there's more meaning behind them than just bums and breasts. I'm happy I got to see the exhibition while it's showing.

Volleyball on Jesus Green

travelcrazed — Sun, 21 Aug 2011 20:12:00 GMT

Sunday started as a lazy morning. Woke up at 11am and had lunch at 3pm. Pasta is a daily staple as it's easy to make. We had spaghetti carbonara and a quick world politics discussion, aided by the map that hung on the wall in their kitchen. Gloria had to study so I wandered inside the colleges using her student card which meant entrance was free. Tip - at times the exit at The Backs are unmanned so entrance is free there too.

King's College Chapel was the most popular and grandest in design. The high ceiling features the world's largest fan vault, i.e the fan pattern, which was amazing to look at. But my favourite part of King's was by the bridge where the enormity of the college, punters and the blue sky could be captured in one shot.

St John's was also impressive to walk through. The grounds were huge, and on this sunny day everybody was having a grand time. Unfortunately Trinity College, where all the geniusness originated - Newton's apple tree, the speed of sound was calculated and Winnie the Pooh was born - was being refurbished.

Quickly making my way to Jesus Green I went to watch Gloria play a game of volleyball. Luca and I being hopeless at it, decided to play frisbee instead. After a few hours, when people started leaving and hence less spectators at my horrible attempt, I got up to play volleyball. We lost of course. All around people were playing sport or lying around. So this is what a university campus is like! Cambridge seems the place to be if you enjoy studying, joining societies, having barbeques no matter the weather, punting and picnicing. That's it, I'm transferring.

I hitched a ride on the front of Luca's bike and we rode back to the apartment. Dinner was a work of art - two types of bruschetta, salami, mushrooms, pate, camembert and grilled vegetables. This was the best day of my trip so far!

Photos: Cambridge

travelcrazed — Sat, 20 Aug 2011 20:27:00 GMT

So this is what a real university looks like...

I heart crepes!

travelcrazed — Sat, 20 Aug 2011 18:44:00 GMT

Staying near Parkside in Cambridge is great. It's so close to the city centre and there's always a game of football or cricket on. Gloria and her boyfriend Luca live near Parkside in a cluttered little apartment. Luca, being Italian, grows capsicum and tomatoes near the windowsill and regularly went outside to water and fond over his plants. I'm told that it's very difficult to grow tomatoes where they live because of the lack of sunlight but his had several green fruit growing off it.

Gloria and Luca were a very welcoming couple. As soon as I arrived, Gloria showed me around Emmanuel College, where ducks walked unabatedly beside us. She told me about the formal dinners the colleges put on every few weeks for anyone to attend as long as they dress up. The tour was short because we had to race to the station for crepes day.

Their french friend Stephan is an amazing cook. We were an hour late and the crepes were cold but still delicious! They were so large they hung over the plate. Stephan served jars of homemade jam and marmalade but most people went for the nutella, banana and whipped cream combo. Being Australian and recently deprived of bananas, I followed suit. While eating, Stephan told us of the 800 kilos he shipped over from Canada with him to here. One look inside his kitchen and it's clear where a large portion of the weight came from. He is an avid tea drinker and owned 6 teapots from what I could see. Homes in Britain may not come with any furniture but they will always come with a kettle.

After lunch we took a walk around New Market. The only thing to look at in this town were the painted plastic horses (due to the racecourse nearby). Gloria's walk with me later on along King's Parade was much prettier. The colleges are enormous and conveniently the nicest ones are all lined in a row. Clare's College was strangely open (all college close at 4:30pm) so we took a walk amongst the beautiful gardens.

Later that night we went out to dinner at an algerian place called Al Casbah. The tables are squished together and fabric hung across the ceiling like a dozen hammocks. I'm told it's a typically European thing to always order entres and our's was a combination of dips and pita bread. For the main I ordered the lamb and chicken couscous which was delicious but way way way too much! We walked out of there with our jean's buttons straining.

We stopped by Bill's restaurant/cafe/shop to meet up with Luca and have a glass of pims - a sweet fruit punch mixed with Southern Comfort. When we left at midnight, people on the street were already getting rowdy because a night out in Cambridge begins at 7pm, and "smashing bottles is a national sport," said Luca.

I forgot that England has cricket - dammit!

travelcrazed — Fri, 19 Aug 2011 20:21:00 GMT

A word of warning: it is incredibly silly to carry 15 kilos of luggage from London Bridge to Victoria. But by doing this I did get to see Westminster Abbey on a beautiful clear summer day.

Let off the coach at Cambridge parkside, I had an hour to enjoy a game of football before my couchsurfing host Richard picked me and Polish Anna up. I didn't realise how poorly Australians play soccer/football until I saw these college students play a friendly game on the quad. Richard took us to a cafe first to try Syphon coffee, a Japanese coffee contraption using fruity coffee beans. It's an unusual and pleasant taste but gag-worthy when cold. Anna and I cooked dinner that night, being creative with the kitchen utensils as Richard didn't have much. My lemon tart was made in a blender and cooked in a casserole dish :S

Dinner with these two was very enjoyable as we shared stories from our travels in different parts of the globe. Richard's galavanting outdid both of ours and it was clear that he was eager to go on his next adventure. In the meantime he occupies his time with refurbishing the backyard, playing cricket, watching cricket and explaining the rules of cricket to foreigners. Anna on the other hand was eager to reunite with her two daughters who had been off to camp in England for the past two weeks. It's a shame that I didn't get time to go out with them for cream tea and scones but will have to make a journey to Poland soon to see them again.

Photos: London

travelcrazed — Thu, 18 Aug 2011 18:47:00 GMT

Here I spent one day going around to the free exhibitions

Jeans soaked to the knee in London

travelcrazed — Thu, 18 Aug 2011 18:30:00 GMT

Started my day with nowhere in particular to go in mind. It was a nice cool morning which began with a wander around Southwark, namely Southwark church and Borough Markets, the latter had very cute organic fruit, poultry and flower stalls. I find it strange when food markets prohibit photos. It's an apple not a work of art.

Along the river I passed the Globe Theatre and Tate Modern. I like Tate; though it is a very ugly building both inside and outside, it contains very curious artworks, for example one video explained the concept of expresionism. People in bikinis and swimmers lying on the beach had squirming fish dropped on them. I have no clue what that is supposed to mean. Nonetheless the surrealist and realist pieces were very good.

St Paul's was swarmed with tourists. The steps leading up to the entrance had dozens of people sitting down to rest, eat and get in everyone's photo. I went into the catedral just as the announcer declared 1 minute of silent prayer with particular mentions for British politicians and the London rioters.

From there the weather turned chilly. I found that Leichester Square, Soho and Picadilly Circus was where the youngsters congregated. Perhaps they valued fashion over practicality because they ran about in high heels and summer dresses, chain smoking under shelter from the rain. In Leichester Square I found an exhibition called The Museum of Broken Relationships. I'd seen this before with my best friend Carol in Singapore and was surprised to find it here. Odd bits and pieces like a sim card, broken glasses, a piano and a licence plate were mounted on stands with a description of the owner's messy breakup written on a piece of paper. Some I would've found hilarious if it weren't for the moaning music dragging down the mood of the place.

I've always wanted to be frugal enough to buy food at the end of the day when the price is reduced. A peking duck wrap was 49p - score!

Sweating in Jung-gu

travelcrazed — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 06:25:00 GMT

Thank goodness I had the sense to handwash my first set of clothes overnight because my clothes the next day were drenched in sweat after 3 hours. Jung-gu in Incheon was wrapped in thick fog yet the high humidity made everything slippery - my skin, the stone footpath, the caps on the bottle cap covered shop, etc. I took a map with me but found it wasn't necessary; the street signs were written in english and pointed out the main attractions. Walking along the shopping district made me a tad regretful that I didn't venture out the night before. The number of funky bars and restaurants was incredible. One place seemed to be a club and tattoo parlour combined. I would've been pacified if some of the cafes were open but nothing was. Where is everybody at 8am in Jung-gu? The only people I came across were exercising at Jayu Park. Sure because when you're drenched in sweat from walking a block, why not run around a bit?

When I got the Incheon airport, I realised where all the people absent from the streets were - they were going nuts in the duty free shops. At all the airports I've been to so far, people meander around, stare listlessly at the carpet or take a nap. There's not frantic consumerism. I wonder if there's something I'm missing about the people that day? One day is not long enough to understand their culture.

Photos: Stopover in Incheon

travelcrazed — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 06:28:00 GMT

First day of my Europe trip spent in South Korea

travelcrazed — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 05:55:00 GMT

Slept not a jot on the plane. There should be an airline that hands out mild sleeping tablets as freely as they do orange juice. The korean stewardesses were so serene and made friends with all the passengers, especially the kids.

Touchdown in Incheon. Airports are so disappointing culturally speaking. There should be a spray painted south Korean flag on the tarmack or speakers to blast kpop as soon as people get off the plane. The excitement hit on the bus ride out while driving over a long bridge. The Harbor Park Hotel wasn't too shabby, definately not what I was expecting. My room was on the 8th floor, tucked in the corner so I had a view from two sides. I also had two beds to choose from and the fun fountain toilet. I noticed later that among the many functions of the fountain toilet, one button is called 'Hibernate'?

Wet, humid and quickly dark Jung-gu became. Though I had been given the stamp of approval to wander wherever I wanted as long as I was back at the hotel by 10:30 the next morning, sending a message to say I'd arrived safety before my mum jumped on a plane herself to check seemed more urgent. Set the alarm to 6:30 for exploring.