R
rdonthehd
Guest
Well, vraiblonde wanted to know some about my trip. I have lots of fun pictures on my homepage : www.geocities.com/vmwillis1972 (you may need to copy and paste the address to your browser, but well worth the trouble, I think)
Here is a bit I wrote after I finished my work at the Buddhist center in Todmorden England (just north of Manchester). Enjoy!
The day was warm, clear and sunny. Unusual for England, but this was no usual day. I boarded the train in Todmorden, waived good bye to my new friend, Martin, and was whisked away to Leeds. From Leeds I was to go to Stevenage and then to Cambridge where my friend, Jeff, would pick me up and take me home. However, I've learned that the trains are not as reliable as they appear. Once I arrived in Stevenage, I began looking for the platform for Cambridge and could not find one. I did find the information desk. The gentleman there explained, rather nonchalantly, that my train had been cancelled. I was to board the next train to Royston and a bus would be there to take all passengers on to Cambridge. "Cheers" he said when I thanked him. I suppose that means thanks and have a good day. From that moment I was not having a good day. He's lucky I had just come from a Buddhist center.
So on the train I go. A young guy a few seats ahead of me was nice enough to let me use his cel phone (or mo-bile as the Brits call it). I called Jeff to tell him the news. "Well that's the British rail system for you. Ok, I'll be waiting." Upon arriving in Royston, I followed the crowd to the buses. A fair skinned woman with blonde cornrows in her hair approached us and said something about going to Cambridge. I did not understand her accent, but we all boarded the bus (or coach, as the cornrowed woman called it).
The bus driver drove straight to Cambridge, not making any other stops. As we passed a pub called "The Spread Eagle", a young woman asked the bus driver if it was possible to drop people off along the way to the rail station. The bus driver, a rather tough looking older man wearing Harley Davidson suspenders, glanced quickly at her then back at the road. "Is that where the train stops?" he asked. When she said no, he replied "Terribly sorry then, 'fraid I can't."
Jeff was at the rail station driving in circles when the bus arrived. For a moment during the trip I felt a bit like Phileas Fogg on his "Around the World in 80 days" journey as I hopped from scheduled train to unscheduled bus and into a waiting automobile. Alas, my adventure so far has only taken me across the English coutryside!
OTHER THINGS I'VE LEARNED WHILE IN ENGLAND SO FAR --
Talking to people here is like the martians from the movie "Mars Attacks" using the translator machine. The words are there, but they don't mean the same. Most recently I've learned the following words:
Free house - this is a pub that serves all kinds of beer, not just the brand that the brewery has.
proper chippy - what to call a restaurant that serves good fish and chips
candy floss - what they call cotton candy
boot - the trunk of the car
hoover up - this means to vacuum the carpet
courgette - what the French and English call a zucchini
brown sauce - this condiment tastes like A-1 steak sauce and is mostly used on chips (fries)
From taking my many walks, I've learned that there are no wild animals to fear while strolling on foot paths. Unless, of course, the foot path ends at a pub; then there is the occasional wild football fan. Just offer to buy him a pint and you'll be fine.
If you are ever in a crowded room and wish for a cup of tea, just yell "Gladys!" and an old hunched over woman will pop up and exclaim, "Eh? You want a cup of tea?". Apparently all tea cart ladies' names are either Gladys, Edna or Bethel.
There is no ice in England. I learned this from my last visit when I asked for ice in order to cool my cup of boiling tea. I remember the woman (probably named Bethel) looked at me as if I had just asked her to polish my shoes with her tongue. "Ice? We have milk!" she told me. So I've learned to take milk in my tea and drink my soda warm. I recently met a woman, who on that day had stubbed her pinky toe while walking through a doorway. Since there was no ice to keep the swelling down, her toe soon became the size of a small courgette and she had to be taken to the doctor. I firmly believe that if ice had been available, we could have saved her toe.
My last discovery so far is a bit difficult for Americans to understand, so pay attention. Hot and cold water are forbidden by law to exit the same faucet. Proably not forbidden, but by the looks of every single sink and tub I've seen so far, it certainly appears so. A faucet for hot water is on the left corner and a cold faucet is on the right corner. As this prevents you from washing anything properly, germs party here in England on a permanent basis. If you are lucky enough to experience hot and cold water running from the same faucet head, the water will not be mixed in order to run as one warm stream. Instead, there will be a stream of hot water in the middle, and a stream of cold water surrounding that. At least you're able to cool your skin while it's burning, especially since there's no ice.
Here is a bit I wrote after I finished my work at the Buddhist center in Todmorden England (just north of Manchester). Enjoy!
The day was warm, clear and sunny. Unusual for England, but this was no usual day. I boarded the train in Todmorden, waived good bye to my new friend, Martin, and was whisked away to Leeds. From Leeds I was to go to Stevenage and then to Cambridge where my friend, Jeff, would pick me up and take me home. However, I've learned that the trains are not as reliable as they appear. Once I arrived in Stevenage, I began looking for the platform for Cambridge and could not find one. I did find the information desk. The gentleman there explained, rather nonchalantly, that my train had been cancelled. I was to board the next train to Royston and a bus would be there to take all passengers on to Cambridge. "Cheers" he said when I thanked him. I suppose that means thanks and have a good day. From that moment I was not having a good day. He's lucky I had just come from a Buddhist center.
So on the train I go. A young guy a few seats ahead of me was nice enough to let me use his cel phone (or mo-bile as the Brits call it). I called Jeff to tell him the news. "Well that's the British rail system for you. Ok, I'll be waiting." Upon arriving in Royston, I followed the crowd to the buses. A fair skinned woman with blonde cornrows in her hair approached us and said something about going to Cambridge. I did not understand her accent, but we all boarded the bus (or coach, as the cornrowed woman called it).
The bus driver drove straight to Cambridge, not making any other stops. As we passed a pub called "The Spread Eagle", a young woman asked the bus driver if it was possible to drop people off along the way to the rail station. The bus driver, a rather tough looking older man wearing Harley Davidson suspenders, glanced quickly at her then back at the road. "Is that where the train stops?" he asked. When she said no, he replied "Terribly sorry then, 'fraid I can't."
Jeff was at the rail station driving in circles when the bus arrived. For a moment during the trip I felt a bit like Phileas Fogg on his "Around the World in 80 days" journey as I hopped from scheduled train to unscheduled bus and into a waiting automobile. Alas, my adventure so far has only taken me across the English coutryside!
OTHER THINGS I'VE LEARNED WHILE IN ENGLAND SO FAR --
Talking to people here is like the martians from the movie "Mars Attacks" using the translator machine. The words are there, but they don't mean the same. Most recently I've learned the following words:
Free house - this is a pub that serves all kinds of beer, not just the brand that the brewery has.
proper chippy - what to call a restaurant that serves good fish and chips
candy floss - what they call cotton candy
boot - the trunk of the car
hoover up - this means to vacuum the carpet
courgette - what the French and English call a zucchini
brown sauce - this condiment tastes like A-1 steak sauce and is mostly used on chips (fries)
From taking my many walks, I've learned that there are no wild animals to fear while strolling on foot paths. Unless, of course, the foot path ends at a pub; then there is the occasional wild football fan. Just offer to buy him a pint and you'll be fine.
If you are ever in a crowded room and wish for a cup of tea, just yell "Gladys!" and an old hunched over woman will pop up and exclaim, "Eh? You want a cup of tea?". Apparently all tea cart ladies' names are either Gladys, Edna or Bethel.
There is no ice in England. I learned this from my last visit when I asked for ice in order to cool my cup of boiling tea. I remember the woman (probably named Bethel) looked at me as if I had just asked her to polish my shoes with her tongue. "Ice? We have milk!" she told me. So I've learned to take milk in my tea and drink my soda warm. I recently met a woman, who on that day had stubbed her pinky toe while walking through a doorway. Since there was no ice to keep the swelling down, her toe soon became the size of a small courgette and she had to be taken to the doctor. I firmly believe that if ice had been available, we could have saved her toe.
My last discovery so far is a bit difficult for Americans to understand, so pay attention. Hot and cold water are forbidden by law to exit the same faucet. Proably not forbidden, but by the looks of every single sink and tub I've seen so far, it certainly appears so. A faucet for hot water is on the left corner and a cold faucet is on the right corner. As this prevents you from washing anything properly, germs party here in England on a permanent basis. If you are lucky enough to experience hot and cold water running from the same faucet head, the water will not be mixed in order to run as one warm stream. Instead, there will be a stream of hot water in the middle, and a stream of cold water surrounding that. At least you're able to cool your skin while it's burning, especially since there's no ice.
