Off to Sea...

The beginning of our honeymoon was actually quite hectic, not really how most people imagine their honeymoons will start out! First, we woke up on our first day off of work at 8:00 am. Given that normally we (or at least Scott) wakes up at 7:00, this was a slight improvement but still not quite the perfect way to start your first day off. Our flight to Rome wasn't scheduled to leave until nearly 4:00 pm, but we live a little bit out of the way. So we got up early in time to catch the 9:00 bus into Cambridge where we walked to the train station. There, we found out that there was some sort of interruption with the train service and that all the trains to central London were delayed! Luckily, we only had to wait about 20 minutes before we hopped onto the train that was supposed to leave an hour ago. Apparently the existence of said train was not well publicized because for all of the rush-hour traffic and people waiting around inside the station, we managed to get an entire car all to ourselves! We took the opportunity to grab an hour-long nap before arriving at King's Cross in London.

From King's Cross we walked over to the Underground station to wait for our next mode of transport: the Tube. This was a bit more crowded than the train had been, but we still managed to get ourselves and all our luggage onto the train. And I only tripped two people up during the whole journey! From there we thought we were home-free to Heathrow Airport, but it turns out that we had gotten on the train destined for terminal 5. We needed the train to terminal 4. Once again, we hopped off the train to wait for another. I don't remember the name of the station, but it was a shared outdoor platform. Two more trains passed before the correct one came by. At this point I would like to thank Aunt Jenn for knitting me some a very warm headband and scarf--I had packed them in my suitcase "just in case" and this was just the case I was glad I did! I was only partially frozen by the time we got back on the train.

Another 20 minute journey and we were finally at the station for Heathrow terminal 4. ...and of course there was what seemed like another few miles of walking to reach the actual terminal itself (luckily for us there were awesome moving sidewalks. Sadly, this is apparently an advanced life skill that most people have not quite mastered and we ended up in a bit of a tangled mess when the people in front of us fell over trying to get off). After some de-tangling and profuse apologies (we are in England after all), we finally reached the ticket counter. We checked in, got our tickets, and checked our luggage. Not only were our first two bags allowed through FREE, the desk agent offered to check all of our hand luggage for free as well! Triple bonus points for Alitalia Airlines right there!

Even after all the difficulties in arriving to our initial destination, we still got to the airport before they even opened the security line for our gate! We took advantage of the extra time to practice fitting in with Italian culture--we ordered coffee and sat on the terrace to people-watch. More bonus points to Caffe Nero for giving us free gourmet chocolates with our drinks! This must be an airport special, because I don't recall that ever happening at other Caffe Neros that I've visited. Whatever the reason, I'm not complaining!

Just as we finished off our coffee and chocolates, it was time to go through security. Just dump your bags on the conveyor and go--we didn't have to take off our sweatshirts or shoes, and we didn't have to account for all our tiny bottles of eyedrops and chapstick. Oh how I love flying between non-U.S. destinations! I was "randomly chosen" to have my bag searched, but even that was accompanied by apologies, and took all of about 20 seconds. 

With all of the hassle of actually getting to the airport, we hadn't eaten very much all day. After a quick review of the various duty-free shops in the terminal we settled on a takeaway sandwich shop for our lunch. I had a salmon salad, thereby unknowingly starting a tradition that would last the rest of the trip. Scott had a chicken sandwich and curry (surprise, surprise!). After lunch we took our bathroom breaks, brought strap for Scott's duffle bag (which had gone missing at some point on our journey), and headed over to our gate.

Boarding was really efficient, despite the Italians' apparent dislike for queueing. Instead, everyone seemed to stand around in random groups and get into line at the very last second. Interestingly, there weren't many arguments or struggles when people "cut" the line. Only a few confused-looking Americans (ourselves included). But we all did manage to get on the plane in what was probably the most civil boarding process I have ever experienced. We were seating in an exit row next to an Italian girl who wasn't really interested in talking. That was fine by me; after our day, I wasn't really interested in talking either!

The plane ride was pretty relaxing until some large man in a big hurry to get to the toilet ran down the aisle, knocking Scott's soda off his table and all over his lap. The person behind him thought that this was the most hilarious thing he had ever witness and laughed uncontrollably for about ten minutes. He continued to chuckly to himself for the remainder of the flight. At least the plane had been cold when we boarded so Scott had not yet taken off all his layers by the time the incident occurred. He simply hung his shirt up to dry, which happened remarkably quickly in the dry air of the airplane!

The rest of the flight was uneventful and we even landed a few minutes early! We were the first ones in line to go through non-EU passport control. I think it was the first time I've gotten through without actually saying anything at all--he just took our passports and stamped the first open page he could find. We went through customs, navigated the barage of taxistas peddling their service, and found our way out to the shuttle buses. We got there just in time--just as we set down our luggage, the bus arrived! We had contemplated walking to the hotel--it was only about half a mile away--but decided on the bus just to be safe. After being on the bus about 15 minutes and realizing how convoluted the streets to the hotel were, we were very glad we chose that option!

When we first walked in to the lobby of the hotel, I thought there was a crime or something! There were about a dozen police officers in full gear hanging around, while luggage strewn all over the place. Turns out it was just a cop convention. With very specific room requests. It took them over half an hour to check in, and then we finally managed to check in to our room. There were plenty of amenties at the hotel, but by this time it was nearly 11:00 pm and we were exhausted. We bought a bag of popcorn for a late snack/dinner, but never ended up eating it. Once we got to the room, we barely managed to get our pajamas on before falling asleep!

Hi. Again.

It's been a while hasn't it?  So much has happened in the last few months, I don't even know where to begin!  Um... so I'm going to go the high-school note-taking route and make bullet points.  I'm still undecided as to whether I should go back and try to write about each event individually.  I wish I had kept up with this better while everything was happening, because I really would like to remember all the emotions in fresh detail.  But oh, well... anyways, here's what's happened since May, in no particular order:

• We went back to the States for a cross-country trip.  We traveled through Wisconsin, Minnesota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Colorado, New Mexico, and Texas.  Highlights of the trip included Mount Rushmore, the Spam Museum, and the Corn Palace.
• I spent some time in Texas waiting for my visa to the U.K. While there I got to stay with my awesome bosses and learn even more awesome things about the Little Aussie Bakery.  I'm so excited to try out all the new things that John and Rita taught me while I was there.
• Contrary to what it seems here, I've actually learned quite a bit about blogging!  I just tend to concentrate my efforts on this blog (getting paid to do it is an excellent motivator).
• I finally got my U.K. visa!
• I got married.
• We bought a car.

Well, that just about covers it.  I may or may not write more in-depth posts about each of those events.  Depends on how stir-crazy I start to go now that I'm back in the U.K. and looking for a "day job."  After a few false starts, I've realized that a resume is not the same thing as a C.V., and that may be why I haven't gotten many calls back from the jobs I've applied to.  Whoops.  Guess I should work on fixing that now, too.

More Rain in Brussels

Once we got over the smell of my wet shoes, we finally managed to get into bed and start to drift off to sleep.  We were just about in dreamland when we were abruptly woken up by shouts in the hallway.  At first we thought that there must be some sort of emergency or at least a big inter-familial fight going on, but when we looked out to investigate it turns out that it was just a happy get-together.  Apparently all the rest of the rooms on our floor had been reserved by one large family whose idea of expressing their love for one another is slamming doors and yelling until 2 a.m.  At least they were well coordinated; every time we would go out to try to ask them to be quiet, they were conveniently hidden inside a room and actually being quite noiseless.

Needless to say, by the time we finally did fall asleep, we were a bit sour on our neighbors.  It didn't help that they all got up around 6 a.m. to start the routine of banging and yelling all over again.  We tried to sleep through it, but finally just gave in and decided to head to breakfast.  Of course, guess who we found in the breakfast room!  Yes, our lovely neighbors!  Turns out they were so busy making lots of noise that none of them had time to shower--they all smelled horrible!  I guess this is what we get for staying at cheap hotels--it does seem to be a recurring theme, doesn't it?

Once the noisy family managed to organize themselves out the door (lots of screaming required for the task, of course), we realized how nice the hotel and breakfast were.  For the price, we really didn't expect much of the breakfast, but it was really diverse!  They even had an espresso machine, of which I took full advantage.  Of course, being in a culturally French area, there was plenty of bread and various spread to go on top.  Don't forget the Nutella!  We enjoyed the rest of our breakfast in silence, enjoying the nice sunny view out the window and hoping that today might be more pleasant on the weather front than yesterday.

The weather had other plans, however, because by the time we got out the door, it was gloomy and raining.  At least we remembered our umbrellas this time!  We didn't have much of a plan other than to explore the city, so we headed back towards the main square.  When we arrived we saw a large group all staring wide-mouthed at one of the buildings.  We closed in to investigate what was so interesting about this particular building, and discovered that these people were part of a free English-language tour of the city.  We were half an hour late to the start, but joined in anyway.

Because we missed the beginning of the tour, I missed the guide's name.  The group was so large (and seemed to grow progressively along the route), that I never even managed to get close enough to him to ask, either!  But he was a great guide!  He is originally from Scotland, but has already lived in eight different European countries, working as a tour guide in all of them.  He is really passionate about history and culture, and even studied law at University.  His education and enthusiasm really showed through on the tour, and I even dare say that it was the most entertaining (not to mention informative) tours I've ever been on!  He somehow managed to get a group of more than 40 people to follow him around in heavy rain for almost four hours--that is no mean feat!

Here are some highlights from the tour:

A typical Brussels street corner.  The top graffiti is encouraged and sponsored by the local government.  The second, the Space Invader, is created by an anonymous street artist who travels the world putting similar pieces on famous landmarks (Great Wall of China, anyone?).  No one knows anything about him, expect they suspect that his is from Paris based on the high concentration of Space Invaders there.  The white street sign is the "modern" name of the street, usually after famous people or events.  The blue sign is the "traditional" name of the street.  Because Brussels started as a market town, most of the streets are named after the goods that were sold there.  This is Brewers' Street.  All street signs are written in both French (top) and Dutch (bottom).

This bronze statue is the pride and joy of Brussels--"Manneken Pis."  Yes, that means "Little Pee Man" in Dutch. It was originally placed around 1618, but has been stolen repeatedly (eight times) since then.  The current statue is a reproduction created in 1965 after the most recent heist.  The city is so proud of this guy that they actually have on staff a full-time costume designer whose sole job is to create outfits for Manneken Pis to wear.  He has a new one every few days.  Apparently today is his "au naturale" day.  There is so much more history to this little guy than I can fit here, so go check out his Wiki for more fun facts!

This is the interior of the Église Notre Dame du Bon Secours in downtown Brussels.  The church itself isn't very grand as far as European churches go, but I liked the juxtaposition of the symbols of Islam, Judaism, and Christianity all in the same place.  Wonder what would happen if we tried this in the States?

There are murals of cartoon characters all over the city; in fact, the government has sponsored most of them and you can even get special tourist maps that lead you to all of them.  This one is located at the entrance to the traditionally gay neighborhood of Brussels.  It was quite controversial when it was first painted in 1992.  The blond figure on the right is Broussaille, a character from a popular comic magazine, "Spirou."  The work was originally titled simple "Broussaille and his friend."  However, there was an outcry because it was unclear whether the black-haired person was male or female.  To combat this, the city had the mural redone, adding more feminine features to the bust and butt, and adding an earring.  To clear up any remaining confusion, the work was retitled "Broussaille and his girlfriend, Catherine."

This is actually the oldest church in Brussels.  It was originally built in the twelfth century, and is called "St, Nicholas Church," after the patron saint of traders.  It has obviously been remodeled a few times since then, but some of the original features are still visible on the interior.  There is even a cannonball fired by the French in 1695 still lodged in one of the pillars!

This is the view at the end of the tour, overlooking the city of Brussels.  It's beautiful even in the rain!

Unfortunately, because we had just hopped on the tour without any planning (or going to the bank), by the time it finished we realized that we didn't have any cash on us.  I know, I know; I did said it was a free tour, but the guide was so awesome that we really thought he deserved some sort of tip!  While everyone else was paying and saying their good-byes, we looked around for an ATM, but to no avail.  Instead, we vowed that we would track him down again some time before the week was through to give him his tip.

The tour ended near another important square.  I can't remember the name, but it should probably have been called "Gourmet Square" based on all the different types of food offered by the various restaurants there.  It was after 3:00 by now and despite our large breakfast, we were hungry!  We decided to try some local fare, and headed into a Belgian cafe for a quick lunch and reprieve from the rain.  The main attraction of the cafe was its "authentic" Belgian waffles, so of course we had to try one of those (covered in Belgian chocolate, no less!).  As much as we would have loved to eat only desserts all day, we were good an also ordered a curry sandwich to share.  They were both super delicious, although after the night that we had I have to say my favorite part of the meal was the big mugs of espresso we had to complement it (complete with EU sugar packets, in case we forgot where we were).

We did our best to delay our departure from the cafe and back into the rain, but eventually we ran out of excuses to stay.  We decided it might be a good idea to try to find an indoor activity, at least until the rain slowed a bit.  We remembered passing by a museum yesterday, and although we weren't entirely clear on what was inside the museum, knew that it was nearby and that it was open late.  That seemed a good enough reason as any to go, so we did.

DaVinci's Tank.

Belgian Stock Market.
All of it.

It turns out that it wasn't actually a museum per se, but the Stock Market building.  Belgium used to have their own stock market, but it was bought out by the NYSE a few years ago.  Since then, most of the building has been unnecessary for market activities and has been used for cultural purpose instead.  Right now, most of the building houses an exhibit called "DaVinci: The Genius."  The great part about this exhibit is that it is mainly a display of actual models built based on DaVinci's ideas.  There is even an entire room full of contraptions that you can experiment with yourself!  Sadly, the tank was not among the "touchable" objects, but it was still neat to see all of DaVinci's ideas actually created.  Some of them had even been tested, like a giant, pyramid-shaped parachute.  Based on modern knowledge, it doesn't seem like it should work.  But a professional skydiver was brave enough to build it (using only materials and techniques available during DaVinci's time), and to test it by jumping out of a hot air balloon.  Luckily for the skydiver, DaVinci was a smart cookie and the parachute worked.

We wandered around the museum for over three hours, only managing to pry ourselves away when we began to get hungry again.  By now, the sky had cleared and it was actually dry outside.  We decided to take advantage of the relatively nice weather to have a meal outdoors.  Even so, we chose a restaurant that offered covered seating and outdoors heaters.  The restaurant was a bit pricey, but they had decent daily specials, so we ordered those.  I finally got to try some moules frites (something I'd seen with Mom in France but never got around to trying), and some Belgian beer.  Both were very good (despite the reputation of Belgian beers).  Scott had the less exotic spaghetti bolognese, but also got to try some Belgian beer.

We were still a little hungry after dinner, so we headed over to the chocolate shops to see if we could find a little treat to fill us up.  By the time we had checked out all the shops, we didn't need to buy a treat anymore--they had all given us so many samples we could hardly think about food anymore.  Nonetheless, we did buy a bag of assorted chocolates, just in case we got hungry later.

It started to downpour again on the way home, but we did fare better than yesterday with our umbrellas this time.  Until we stood too close to a corner and got splashed as a car turned the corner, that is.  At least by now I had discovered the versatility of our hair dryer!

Blow Drying Brussels

Once again, we have a week off from school--I love the British school system!  We get breaks just about every 6 weeks, and good ones, too!  None of this long weekend stuff; we always get at least a week, if not two, off!  I even did my best to be organized, and started to research and book a trip a full month before the actual break (last time I think we finally ended up choosing a destination about three days before departures).

We decided that we should be far enough into spring by the end of May that it would be safe to venture to one of the more "northern" countries without turning into human icicles.  We debated between France, Holland, Belgium and Germany for our trip.  Belgium turned out to be the winner, mostly because the train tickets to there were much cheaper than anywhere else.  We knew absolutely nothing about Belgium, but we figured we could learn about it as we went.

By the time break rolled around, the forecast for the week (both in England and Belgium) was rain.  The whole week.  While I appreciated this in England (I was worried my garden would die while we were gone), I wasn't too excited about the prospect of an entire rainy vacation.  But what can you do?  We crossed our fingers, hoped for the best, and began our journey.

The Eurostar train wasn't scheduled to leave until almost 11:00 a.m., but we still had to catch the bus and the Capital Connect train just to get to St. Pancras in London.  To be on the safe side, we caught the 7:30 bus from just outside our house.  It was only a few minutes late (ok, it didn't arrive until almost 8:00, but that's pretty good for the buses around here).  Luckily, the traffic must have been good or the driver must have really been gunning it because we still made it to the train station in time to catch the express train into London.  We arrived at Kings Cross right around 9:30 a.m.

Luckily, St. Pancras is just across the street, so we didn't have to navigate the city too much.  There was a bit of a line at check-in, but we found that no one was particularly interested in using the automated machines, so we took advantage and grabbed our tickets from one in less than five minutes.  With nothing else to do but wait, we headed through security (so much easier than going through at the airport), and into the waiting lounge.

blearyeyedfather.blogspot.com

It was still earlier than the time I normally wake up, so the first thing we did was make a beeline straight for the coffeeshop.  I ordered the largest, sugary-est drink I could find.  It was delicious.  The lounge was crowded with families with young children.  We wondered what was in Belgium that attracted so many families, but then we heard the announcement for boarding of the train to EuroDisney.  The lounge was clear of children in about 5 minutes.  We enjoyed watching the way different children rode the escalator--you can tell so much about their personality based solely on their methods!  Some kids cling to their parents or older siblings, while others try to weave their way through the crowd to get to the top first.  One kid was even trying to ride up by sitting on the moving handrail!

Only a few minutes after the departure of the Disney train, we were called to board ours.  I don't know if there is some secret to booking the tickets, but so far every time I've booked online we end up at a four-seater table.  Since there are only ever two of us, we always end up sharing with other people.  So far it hasn't been too bad, and we even met a really interesting guy on the way back from France.  This time, we sat across from another young couple.

They were content to ignore us, and that suited us just fine since we were mostly just interested in sleeping.  It's probably a good thing we didn't end up talking, because we probably would have ended up in a fight. They were discussing their next career moves, and the girl explained that she wanted to go back to school to become a teacher.  "Yea," she said, "I'll probably get bored of it really soon, and I don't really like children all that much, but the holidays are awesome!  I don't really have to like it, because I'll get 16 paid weeks off per year."  Yep, those are definitely the kind of people who should go into teaching.

www.servitir.co.uk

We managed to successfully ignore the rest of our table-partners' conversation and had a pretty uneventful ride through the Chunnel and across the French countryside (all of which Scott missed because he was sleeping like a rock).  We arrived in Belgium right on time, around 2:30.  We were happily surprised to see that not only was it not raining, it was actually fairly sunny and warm!  After a longer-than-expected trek to our hotel, we got settled in and decided to head out an explore a bit in the nice weather.  Of course we didn't think of bringing umbrellas!

The hotel was just about two miles from the city center, and we enjoyed strolling through some interesting neighborhoods on the way.  Unlike other cities that have segregated cultural areas, in Brussels it seems that all the cultures thrive right next to each other.  In the same block we passed by a Pakistani tea house, a Spanish grocery, a Brazilian clothing store, a Moroccan bakery, and a Filipino dry goods store.  And of course all the signs were in French and Dutch.

By around 4:00 we could tell that we were getting into the "touristy" part of town, as evidenced by the throngs of confused people huddled around the windows of the chocolate shops.  It was just about this time that the weather decided that it was about time to fulfill the forecast and start raining.  It wasn't too bad at first, so we continued our walk, enjoying the ornate architecture in the downtown area.  We even found the main square, the Grand Place.  Our timing couldn't have been more perfect, because just as we walked out to the center of the square, it started to downpour.  We looked for an escape, and ran into the first restaurant we could find.

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We already knew that the food was probably going to be overpriced based on the fact that we were in the main square.  But we were seated on the third floor with a great view of the entire square, and the waiter spoke English fairly well.  There was a slight mixup when Scott tried to order sausages and somehow ended up with some roast meat, but whatever it was that he got was delicious so it didn't really matter.  I got some salmon, which was a little overcooked, but the vegetables were excellent so that (kind of) made up for it.  We were mostly just glad to get out of the rain!  The large pitcher of wine also made us appreciate the food probably more than it deserved.

Of course, being in Belgium, we were also served french fries in a cone.  Yep, they should actually be called "Belgian fries," because they weren't invented in France after all!  They got their name from American GIs who just assumed that they were in France because everyone around them was speaking French.  Silly assumption, right?  I must say, the Belgians really do know how to do fries! Apparently they use a special technique whereby they slow fry the potatoes in warm oil before flash-frying them in hot oil to finish them off.  Definitely worth a try!

We did our best to eat slowly and wait for the rain to pass, but by 5:30 we were starting to get tired.  We ventured outside but soon realized that there was no way we were going to make it the two miles to the hotel without getting soaking wet.  We bought a really beautiful souvenir umbrella from one of the shops, with scenes of Brussels on it.  Unfortunately, the umbrella is no longer with us, as Scott left it behind at customs on the way home.  Oh, well, it was nice while it lasted!  Kind of.  We still ended up being pretty soaked by the time we got to our destination, especially my shoes.

Expecting to do a lot of walking, I'd only packed my tennis shoes.  They're great for tennis and other athletic activities, because they're built to "breathe" really well.  Unfortunately, the hundreds of little holes and the mesh do not make them very good for the rain.  They were probably five pounds heavier each when we got back up to the hotel room!  I knew I didn't really have any options other than to wear them wet or figure out a creative way to dry them, so I set about searching for a method.  My first instinct was to just place them on the heaters, but unfortunately, the hotel had already turned the heat off for the season.  I couldn't very well let them sit outside, because it was still raining.

teamsugar.com

I ended up finding the in-room hairdryer and drying the shoes with that.  It took a good half hour or more before they started to dry up.  I was glad I'd found a way to have dry feet the next day, but let me tell you, if you're ever wondering what might make it on the list of "ten worst smells in the world," hot, blow-dried shoes will probably make it to the top of the list!

Wedding Ring!

I'm very excited today--we went to London to pick up the wedding ring that we had custom-made by artist/ jeweler H. deCohen at Covent Garden!  I really want to start wearing it now, but I'm going to do my best (which is probably still quite a bit below average) to be patient and wait for the wedding.  It is now safely stashed away until the wedding, and I'm not going to post any pictures until then--guess we'll all learn to be patient together!  I'll give you a few teasers, just to keep you interested--It's made of 18 carat white gold, and round diamonds.  The artist described the pattern as a "flowing river," and I agree with assessment.  I think it's perfect, and I can't wait to wear it permanently!

www.alpbase.com

Now, it's time to find a ring for Scott.  We're going to have a bit of a challenge there--his ring finger is the one he injured doing karate a couple years ago.  He now has a large screw embedded forever right into his knuckle.  This means that any ring that fits around the knuckle has to be about three sizes larger than the actual size that would fit his finger.  We'd welcome any suggestions as to how to get around this slight problem!

Good Intentions

www.sonicnation.ca

I never thought that I would quote Ke$ha in, well, anything, but her words are actually quite appropriate for this moment: "It can bum you out when your intentions aren't, like, translated properly." In her case, Ke$ha is lamenting the fact that she has been portrayed as "pop's party girl" instead of being recognized for her artistic talents.  I can't say I would know any of her music were I to hear it, so I have no comment on her musical abilities, but I definitely feel her pain about intentions gone bad.

For example, my intention to blog about all of my travels, and even just day-to-day life in my new home.  In my head, it sounds like a great idea, and not even that difficult to carry out!  What could be easier than relaying events that happened to you just a few days before (with a few embellishments, perhaps)?  I mean, isn't that what office gossip is all about?  Should be easy as pie.  Unfortunately, I am neither a great fan of pie (except Grandma's) nor office gossip. Oh, but did you hear what Mr. Smith did last weekend?!

Just kidding.  I'm almost 99% sure that there isn't even a Mr. Smith at the school.  Although I'm really horrible with names, so I could be mistaken about that, too!  Anyways, I guess the point of this post is to let you know that I'm still here and I really do intend to write about my travels.  But please bear with me if my intentions aren't "like, translated properly."

A Day on the Town

juliegilley.typepad.com

Saturday was the first day Scott really got a chance to catch his breath, so we took the opportunity to meet Mom at her hotel before having a "day on the town."  It was actually pretty warm (I only needed one sweater, and I even got rid of that later on in the day), so we decided to see what kind of outdoor activities we could do.  Of course, the Market Square market was the obvious choice.  Located right in the center of the downtown area, the market fills up the entire square every day, with vendors selling everything from fresh produce to antiques and crafts, and even some rare Great War memorabilia.  I hadn't eaten breakfast yet, so I naturally headed straight for the bakery stall for a crossaint.  We mostly just looked around and enjoyed the  sunny weather, but Mom did manage to find a pretty cool gift for Lindsay--a backpack hand-made from an old flannel shirt!  I don't have a picture of the actual one she bought, but the one posted is a pretty good representation.  We also enjoyed the renditions of a bluegrass band playing folk tunes in the corner by the church.  I know England is a very multicultural place, but I do have to say that Cambridge, UK, is probably the last place I ever expected to hear bluegrass (and done so well, too!).

Once we'd had our fill of classic American music, we figured we'd better take advantage of being in England to learn a little bit about the history of that country.  But first, it was time for coffee.  We stopped off at my favorite coffeeshop (so far; I haven't tried them all yet): Caffe Nero across from King's College.  Caffeine-laden beverages in hand, we took some seats among the multitudes of people sitting along the wall in front of the college.  Apparently, I just look like a tourist no matter where I am, because we were approached by a student selling tickets to the "Cambridge Alumni Walking Tour."  We were reluctant at first, because there seem to be an infinite number of colleges in Cambridge and we weren't sure how we'd all hold up to walking that much.  Eventually, the student managed to convince us by giving us all the children's priced tickets.

http://online.sfsu.edu

The two-hour tour was definitely worth it.  While I think that the guide must be Scott's long-lost sister (they both are quite partial to taking the most confusing route possible, even when much more direct routes are available), it was nice to finally see the colleges that make Cambridge so famous.  I wish I could say that I remember which one is which, but since I can hardly tell you which of my seven students is which, much less which of 31 difference colleges! I do remember passing by the Cambridge University Library, which is kind of like Britain's equivalent of the Library of Congress--it is required that every published book be housed there.  Of course, not all books have the purest content matter, but the guide assured us that "those kinds" of books are kept away from the others (and from the eager eyes of the thousands of university students), locked in the highest tower.  Yes, you read that correctly; there is a porn tower in Cambridge.  Sadly, that was not part of the tour.

Other highlights of the tour included a visit to the descendant of the tree under which Sir Isaac Newton was sitting when he "discovered" gravity while at Trinity College in 1666; a visit to the courtyard of the oldest college in Cambridge, Peterhouse; a view of the narrowest stretch between two college buildings, between which students used to dare one another to jump across; and the Mathematical Bridge at Queens' College, said to be the most perfectly designed bridge in the world (this is, of course, a source of much debate).  There was plenty more to see, but you know what they say: "a picture is worth a thousand words."  I'll let something else do the talking for once.

Could you make the jump?

The Gravity Tree

The Mathematical Bridge--Perfect?

I took a few (read: hundreds) more photos, but you'll have to check out Facebook for those.  After walking back and forth across the city for two hours on the tour, we were more than ready for a drink!  On the tour we'd passed a pub called "The Eagle."  Now, passing a pub is not any special thing in England, but this one was pretty special--not only is it really old (at least 16th century), it also played a fairly important role in modern science.  It was a favorite place of Francis Crick and James Watson to relax and enjoy a drink as they discussed their theories.  They even celebrated their discovery of DNA there!  It was a natural choice to end the day.  It turned out to be even more of an experience for Mom, who had never even heard of cider before!  She was a little reluctant to try it at first, but upon one taste of mine, she insisted on ordering her own.  We also enjoyed some authentic British pub food--Scott and Mom both had pies, while I had my new standby, fish and chips.  It was a great way to end a lovely day.

Local Goodness

oncoffeemakers.com

Having Mom visit was actually really nice, because it gave me an excuse to do all the "touristy" things that Cambridge has to offer.  Scott and I have attempted a couple times to see Cambridge, but since Scott has been here about 8 months longer than I have, and lived in the city proper for nearly a month of that time, he's already "been there, done that" with most of the attractions.  Plus, the weather has been so horrendous that when we go into town we usually spend most of the time scouting coffee shops to warm up in!  So, while I can proudly say that I can direct you to just about any coffee shop you wish to visit in the downtown area, I'm still not all that familiar with the things Cambridge is really famous for, like the museums and colleges. 

Mom arrived on the Wednesday of the first week back to school for Scott. Going back to school after a break is always a bit hectic, but the new term had brought with it 15 new students and 6 additional weekly classes, so it's fairly safe to say that Scott was essentially out of action for anything else during the week.  While we appreciated the mother-daughter time, I think Scott appreciated the alone time!  Exploring Cambridge with Mom also gave me the opportunity to actually learn where things were for myself.  Again, I pretty much just followed Scott around and trusted that he knew where he was going.  Being there myself, I learned that Cambridge is actually quite a bit smaller than I had perceived, and that Scott's preferred method of getting around town is to zig-zag back and forth between areas, making what is typically a 10-minute walk into three-quarters of an hour.   It's a great technique for site-seeing, but does end up being slightly confusing for one who is trying to learn her way around.

www.hotelscambridge.org

So for the next couple days, I caught an "early" (9:00 a.m.) bus into town to meet Mom and do some leisurely exploring.  It was really nice because the bus picks up directly across from  my house, and it dropped off right across from her hotel.  Oh, speaking of hotels, I bet you're wondering how she held up in the oh-so-lovely Travelodge.  She didn't, actually.  She was so concerned about having to stay there even one more night that on our first exploration of the city, she saw a bed and breakfast (The Centennial) along the route and stopped right in to ask if they had any availability.  She was in luck; they had a single room available through the weekend.  Without thinking twice, she booked it.  We were even lucky enough to be able to cancel the second night at the Travelodge.  It was a little bit more expensive, but definitely worth it. I can assure you that it was at least 325,436,098 times better than her previous accommodations.

It was nice to be able to take things slow (usually Scott and I go into town with a specific goal in mind and have to rush around to get everything done so that we don't miss the bus home), so we spent the time window shopping, visiting the market, and of course, drinking coffee at the many coffee shops.  During our explorations, we came up St. Bene't's Church, the oldest in Cambridge, and decided to have a look inside.  It was quite an interesting place--the architecture was, of course, very old (with periodic updating), but the technology was about as new as you could get.  There was an electronic chandelier that could be placed in various positions, and even floating speakers placed strategically around the church.  I'm really not quite sure why they needed so many speakers, because the church itself isn't all that large, but it was cool to see the juxtaposition of the old and new.  In the center of the church, there was a remembrance tree where members and visitors alike were encouraged to write the names of loved ones on leaves and tie them to the tree.  The tree was already overflowing with leaves, but we left a few of our own as well.

Surprise!

It was a quite Sunday afternoon and we'd just gotten back from traveling "the island" (aka England) during our two week break, and were settling back to the reality that it would be back off to work tomorrow when I got a Skype call.  It was from my Mom--not too surprising, yet; we talk at least a few times a week on Skype anyway.  She asked me how I was, and what my plans were for the week.  I told her I didn't really have anything too exciting planned.  "Good, " she said, "because I just found a great deal on flights to London, and I'm leaving Tuesday!"

Oh.  Ok.  That definitely was a surprise that I wasn't expecting in about a million and a half years!  At first I was a little concerned about how to prepare on such sort notice (imagine how Mom felt, having to prepare to go overseas for two weeks in such a sort amount of time)!  Since she would be here over two weekends, I first tried to find a short trip that Scott could also do, but unfortunately on such sort notice, the prices were sky-high.  Instead, I started to look for a mid-week break that Mom and I could take together, and give Scott some alone time to catch up on schoolwork.  As it turns out, all of those were pretty expensive too.  I put those plans on the back burner and set about figuring out how I was going to go pick Mom up in London on Wednesday morning.

In the morning from our house to central London, it usually takes about 3 hours (first the bus, then the train).  But to collect Mom, I also had to factor in the almost hour-long ride on the underground from King's Cross to Heathrow.  The meeting was also complicated by the fact that she would have no usable phone, and that her plane was schedule to arrive before 8:00 a.m.  We decided that she would just have to wait near the meeting area until I got there, because the rural buses that come to my house aren't the most reliable.

myfavehotel.com

I got up at 5:00 a.m. on Wednesday morning, hoping to catch the first commuter bus.  I was starting to get pretty nervous, because this was my first time to London by myself.  This meant I would actually have to figure out where things were instead of just following Scott everywhere!  I'm happy to announce that I caught the first bus (which was only about 2 minutes late), and managed to get on the express train into King's Cross.  I even found the correct underground train on the first try!  All in all, I'd say it was a success, and I arrived around 10:30 a.m.  While her plane had been delayed slightly, Mom should have arrived by that time.  I didn't see her in the waiting area, so I took a quick bathroom break and figured that maybe the line at customs was long or something.

When I returned, I saw Mom entering the terminal from outside--I guess the weather has been so  horrible in Wisconsin that she couldn't wait another second to get out and enjoy the "nice" English weather (as in it was not raining at that particular moment).  We hugged each other and then set off on the business of getting back to Cambridge.  I only got lost once trying to find the Underground again.  The ride back into town was uneventful (but full of gossip, of course!).  We stopped at King's Cross for a sandwich, and managed to catch another express train back into Cambridge.

www.hotelscambridge.org

Luckily, once we were in Cambridge, we just had to walk over the railway bridge to get to Mom's hotel.  Not so luckily, the hotel (Travelodge Cambridge Central) was the last one available at such sort notice, and we saw why upon entering the room.  We got to the check-in counter about half an hour before official check-in opened.  Of course, after traveling for more than a day, Mom just wanted to be able to relax, so she asked if the room was ready yet.  The clerk told her that yes, it was ready, but she would have to pay 10 pounds if she wanted to occupy it before check-in.  Shocked but too tired to care, we agreed to pay it.  The room was on the third floor, and we finally managed to reach it after having to use our key card to get through at least three access doors into hallways. 

The room itself was fairly large, but incredibly bare.  It had a large bed and a TV.  The rest was open space that looked like it used to have furniture, but not any more.  One wall was painted bright orange, and the others were a dirty white.  Not "dirty white" as a color of its own, but white that had become dirty by what seemed like a very talented person walking sideways up the wall and onto the ceiling, while simultaneously drawing chalk figures behind them.  The one painted wall was faded in areas that presumably once held pictures, but now just had holes.  At least the shower had running water!

We decided to ignore the displeasing aesthetics, hope for a more pleasant clerk at the desk, and take a rest before heading out to explore Cambridge for a while.

Gardening with a Historian and an Anthropologist...

... makes for very slow work, it turns out!

Even though it was cold and windy out, I managed to convince Scott to help me dig up the garden (with the promise of a homemade dinner afterwards).  Theoretically, it should be pretty quick work, especially with two people going at it.  All you have to do is cut the sod into strips, roll it up, and cart it away.  This went well for the first strip--I was pleased to see that the soil had a good consistency and that there were plenty of worms and grubs to help turn over the soil.  This gardening stuff might turn out to be a good idea, after all!

When I started to pull up the next strip, however, I noticed a small white and blue object.  Upon further inspection, I realized that it was a piece of painted ceramic!  Of course now that I knew there were interesting objects in the ground, this meant that I had to painstakingly comb every strip before taking it away.  Scott laughed at my enthusiasm at first, but once I started pulling out more pieces, he started looking too!  We ended up finding pieces from at least two or three different objects.  I'm a little rusty with my ceramics knowledge (not that I had much to begin with), so I really don't have any idea if they're all that interesting or not.  If anyone has any inklings, let me know!

We managed to get about three-quarters of the yard stripped off, except for bits near the fencel ine that were difficult to cut into.  I tried to dig into one area only to discover a row of bricks buried just below the surface.  The outside edge of the garden it lined with bricks, since the sidewalk is slightly beneath the soil line.  I figured that this row was just from an older garden perimeter that was eventually forgotten and let to grow over.  They would have to be pulled out before we could start planting, so I grabbed the spade and starting digging.  I pulled up about three intact bricks, and went to try to find the next one in line.

This time when I went to pull out the brick with my shovel, I noticed that it wasn't quite as heavy as the other bricks.  I figured that perhaps it was broken, or maybe it was just a stone that got placed instead of a brick.  When I finally did manage to pull it out, it turned out not to be a brick at all!  It was a bottle neck, with the cork still intact (very rotted, but still there).  Our garden is right next to the sidewalk that leads to and from the neighboring villages, so I just figured that it was litter that had been thrown over by a passerby some years ago (although it was strange that they would have left the cork in!).  I put the fragment to the side and continued digging.

My spade hit upon another hard object, so I reached down to pull it out.  It was another fragment of a bottle, but it was a different color than the bottle neck I had just pulled out.  I looked more closely at the hole I had dug and realized that there were dozens of fragments of bottles of all sorts of different colors!  The archaeologist in me started to get excited, and I expressed this excitement to Scott.  Again, he laughed at my enthusiasm, took his obligatory glance at the fragments I'd pulled up, and continued working on his patch of the garden.  I was so excited, though, that I continued to make celebratory noises with each new fragment I pulled out.

Finally, Scott couldn't take it anymore and came over to see what all the fuss was about.  Of course, he insisted that his excavation skills were far superior to mine, took the hand shovel from me, and proceeded to start digging himself.  Turns out he's a natural--he pulled up a large can (maybe a small paint can?), with a small, intact glass bottle inside of it.  This discovery convinced him of the archaeological significance of the site, so he put away his large tools and sat down to excavate with me.  Our gardening plans all but forgotten, we spent the next half hour or so pulling up more objects from the ground.  Once I realized that it was more than just a few pieces of litter, I even started try to map the locations of the objects!

By the time we were forced inside by rain, we'd pulled up an entire bucket full of bottle fragments, four cans, a small intact bottle, a large intact bottle, five bottle necks with corks still inserted, and two more pieces of ceramic.  Scott said we should recycle them, but right now they're sitting in the kitchen waiting for me to clean and date them, just in case they are something to get excited about.  I found a website that might help--it's for dating American bottles, but maybe I can find some good references there to give me an approximate age of the bottles.  It's still really strange that so many of them were unopened, and in the same place.  Someone's forgotten secret stash?

The answer to this mystery must remain for the moment, because the sun has returned (for the moment), which means its time to get back to the garden!

Endeavours in Gardening

So a few weeks ago, whilst staring out the window at the falling snow (in a place where I was assured that it rarely snowed--no, I am not going to let that go!), I decided that it would be a good idea to start a vegetable garden in the back yard.  I do have some experience with gardening, if you count helping my dad with his when I was about 12 years old.  Other than that, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.

Luckily, there are perks to living in the old servant's house on an estate--there is a groundskeeper for the whole estate who knows a thing or two about tending to a garden.  I actually met the groundskeeper, Bob, during my first week here when a package meant for Hildersham Hall (the estate owners' home) was accidentally delivered to our house.  I wasn't quite sure what to do, but I just happened to look out the window and see a man clearing the snow on the driveway.  Since I hadn't met our landlord, I assumed that that was who it was.  Turns out I was wrong, but luckily Bob is really awesome and agreed to give the package to the landlord when he saw him.  We ended up talking for over an hour, even though I was standing outside with only my slippers and sweatshirt.  Bob is a really interesting guy, and seems to know a little bit about everything!

A few weeks later when I told him that I wanted to start a garden, Bob helped me scout out the best location in the yard, and even agreed to put down some weedkiller so that I wouldn't have to pull up all the grass.  He came over on a warm, sunny day to spray it.  He finished within about 15 minutes, but once again he ended up staying and chatting for over an hour.  In fact, the only reason he ended up leaving was because I got stung by a bee!  It figures that would happen on the first warm day of the year!  Very strange circumstance, too--I put my hands inside the pocket of my sweatshirt, and was stung on my palm by the bee that had apparently been napping in there!  It's been about a week, and I'm proud to say that my hand is healing quite nicely.  It was starting to itch quite a bit, but it turns out that a nice rubbing of mud really helps with that!

Anyways, after Bob sprayed the yard to kill the grass, he told me that if the weather stayed dry, everything should be gone within a week or so.  Of course, it has rained and/or snowed pretty much every day since he said that.  So, unfortunately, the grass and weeds are still very alive and I now get the oh-so-fun task of pulling them all out.  Luckily, Bob has started a little bit of it for me, because he had to dig up one side to put in the new fence that he graciously offered to install around the perimeter of the vegetable garden to keep out the rabbits.  He even put in a nice gate and painted everything, too!  Have I said that I think Bob is pretty much the most awesome person ever?

www.leevalley.com

After a week of watching the rain fall and nourish the grass that I was attempting to kill, I finally gave in and decided to pull up the grass myself.  This doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but it turns out that a plot of 25 by 15 feet is actually pretty big.  Also, I only had a spade to work with.  I started to dig up a bit with that, but after an hour of work I'd only managed to sort of move the dirt around in about a 4 by 4 area.  Luckily, Bob tends to also have great timing, and he showed up just in time to see me ready to give up in my attempts.  He showed me how to use my spade to cut the sod into strips, and even lent me his antique sod lifter to make rolling it up even easier!  With this new tool, I was able to remove about a third of the grass in just about an hour!  Even still, I definitely got my work out and can assure you that I'll get a good night's sleep tonight!

My progress so far.  I'm pretty proud of myself!

Now, I think I'm going to wait until Scott can help this weekend to pull up the rest of it.  Turns out that dirt and grass can be quite heavy, so he also gets the honorable task of moving the rolls of sod that I've created.  He'll be so excited to hear the news!

Escape to Portugal

www.guardian.co.uk

Because we stayed so close to the airport, we "slept in" until 5:00 a.m.  We actually managed to get up and going fairly efficiently, considering the hour.  We were checked out and ready to go just a little past 6:00.  Unfortunately, the snow hadn't let up all night and there was a nice covering of the stuff all the way up to the airport.  I really wasn't too excited about sitting on a cold airplane with wet feet, so I went into the bathroom and snagged some of the extra garbage bags from the corner.  I tied them around my feet over my sneakers to prevent some of the water from getting in.  And to make a fashion statement, obviously.  Scott commented that it was an improvement over my normal attire, although the other people we passed by didn't quite seem to have the same opinion.

Regardless of their fashion, the bags served their purpose and my feet were only slightly damp by the time  arrived at the terminal.  As I peeled the bags off, Scott did some reconnaissance to see where we needed to go to get our tickets.  We'd already checked in and were only bringing carry-on baggage, but we would still have to wait in line because we don't have a printer at home to print the tickets.  I'm actually almost tempted to buy a printer just to avoid the hassle of waiting in line at airports!  It would totally be worth it.  Especially because just as we got into the hideously long line, we heard an announcement over the loudspeaker saying that it was the last call for our flight!  Granted, it was an international flight so we probably should have arrived more than an hour before boarding, but last call at 6:20?!

www.freedomsphoenix.com

There was no way we were going to get to the front of the line anytime soon, so Scott left the line to go ask for help at the ticket counter.  Luckily, the staff are apparently used to lots of traveler arriving late and having similar panic situations.  In fact, there was a special check-in line designed especially for those travelers.  We rushed to join that line, willing it to move quickly as we heard the repeated "last call" for our flight.  As soon as the agent gave us our tickets, we ran to security and were once again faced with a mile-long line.  This time, there wasn't any "fast-track" service, so we just had to grit our teeth and hope we made it.  As we stood in line we started to organize the things that needed to be taken out or put in bags (electronics and liquids).  As we did, Scott reaching into the bottom of his bag and realized that he had forgotten to take out his multi-tool before packing for the trip!  For those of you unacquainted, a multi-tool is basically just a bunch of knives and other sharp objects all tacked together.  Not such a good thing to try to bring into an airport, especially if you're planning on getting anywhere fast.

I know that some airports have last minute mail services near security, so I was hoping that we might just be able to mail it home.  I did a quick scan, but didn't see anything in the vicinity.  We showed it to the guard in the corner of the room.  He let us keep it for the moment, but warned us that it probably wasn't going to be able to go much further.  When we got to the x-ray, Scott showed it to the security agent to see what options he might have.  He didn't have any, so was forced to hand it over before going through the machine.  But at least we got to leave our shoes on!

news.bbcimg.co.uk

We got through security by about 7:10, which is the time that our tickets said that the gate was closing.  Hoping that my watch was a little fast, we ran as fast as we could to our gate.  We were welcomed by a massive gathering of about 100 other people who probably had also made a mad dash to the gate after hearing the "last call."  Apparently those calls they'd been giving out for the past half hour had merely been a suggestion, because the door to the waiting area for the gate hadn't even been opened yet.  So glad we nearly ran down an old crippled lady in our quest to get there on time.  It actually turned out pretty well that we were at the back of the line, because the waiting area was no more than a covered area right next to the runway--not the most comfortable place to stand around and wait when it's snowing.  Because of our tardiness, we were some of the last people ushered in and only had to endure it for about 15 minutes.

www.etravelblog.com

Not to say that I was too excited about those 15 minutes, either, but I suppose I'm glad it wasn't any longer. When we finally did make it to the airplane (around 8:00, 20 minutes after the scheduled departure time), we looked at our tickets to see that we would be seated towards the back of the plane.  And by "towards the back" I mean "the absolute last row right next to the bathrooms."  And of course we were in the window and middle seat.  I'm usually pretty OK with small places, but the one exception to that is on airplanes, where I always insist on being in the aisle.  I usually manage to reserve one but if not, the plane often has extra seats that I can move to once we're in the air.  Not today.  At least the person sitting next to me was very respectful and even offered to let me use the armrest!  Now that is chivalry at 30,000 feet!

Luckily for our seatmate, he got to have the armrest and even a little bit extra butt room, because I leaned over and slept on Scott's shoulder for nearly the whole trip.  Except for the last half hour or so, during which time I decided to try a new game on my iPod called "Temple Run."  It is the most addictive game ever; you've been warned!  It was a little difficult to catch on to the rules (because reading the instructions would have been too easy), and of course just as I figured it out was when the captain made the landing announcement and we had to power down all electronics.

www.guardian.co.uk

The landing was much more efficient than boarding and take-off, and we headed right inside to customs.  Usually, being the foreigner means longer lines and more questioning at the border, but this time it was actually an advantage being a non-EU citizen!  There was one line for EU and UK passport holders, and one line for "everyone else."  Luckily for us, it was only us and one other couple that qualified as "everyone else," so we got right to the front of the line.  The lady barely even looked at our passport before stamping it and waving us through.  I was so excited to have my first European stamp in this passport!  I am a little disappointed that all the European stamps are now basically the same since becoming part of the EU but, oh well.  I'll continue collecting anyway.

After getting through the border, we headed straight out to the transportation area.  I hadn't really researched the best way to get to our hotel, but I did know that it was supposed to be fairly close to a metro stop.  We decided to find a map and try to find our way to the nearest metro, hoping that there wouldn't be too many busy roads to cross to get there.  Luckily for us, it turns out they had just built a new metro stop right inside the airport!  Plus, the tickets were electronic so we could buy a reusable card that could be used all on modes of transportation during our entire stay.  We did have a little trouble buying the ticket from the electronic kiosk, until we discovered that there was a button to translate everything into English.  Amazing how much easier that made things!

rouxinoldepomares.blogs.sapo.pt

The airport was at the far north of the city, while our hotel was at the southernmost end.  We also had to transfer lines once, so it took us about 45 minutes to get to our stop.  Luckily, we got to have our pick of seats since we had gotten on at the first stop of the line.  We got off at metro Baixa-Chiado (easy to remember, since the name of our hotel was "Borges Chiado").  After going up what seemed an infinite number of floors--thank goodness for escalators--we finally emerged into a large, bustling square.  The directions I had gotten to our hotel weren't very specific, so we walked around to the other side of the exit to see if we could find a map with a more precise location.  Unfortunately, the dispaly that we had believed to be a map was empty.  So, like the confused tourists that we are, we just looked around like deer in the headlights.  This actually turned out to be quite a good strategy, as it turned out that our hotel was just across the square!

It was just a few minutes until noon, so we figured that it would be the perfect time to check in and start exploring.  Of course, the first thing on our mind was lunch.  Being the "economical" travelers that we are, we hadn't eaten breakfast because it wasn't free at the hotel, and there also weren't any snack provided on the airplane.  There was quite a crowd in the lobby, so we ended up waiting about 15 minutes before we managed to grab anyone's attention.  When we finally did, we were told that check-in time actually wasn't until 1:00 p.m., so we would have to do something else until that time.  They did let us leave our bags in a locked closet so that we didn't have to much to carry, at least.  

dreamstime.com

We decided to use the time to go out in search of something to quench our appetites.  There were a few cafes right next to the hotel, but we wanted to be a bit more adventurous so we headed up the big hill to our right and down a small cobblestone street on our first Portuguese adventure.  There were quite a few tourists at the plaza from where we'd come, but as we moved further down the narrow street, we noticed a change in the ambiance.  There were decidedly fewer foreigner accents, and many more "regular" people just going about their daily activities.  We walked past a small restaurant with all sorts of fresh fish on display in the window.  Scott was a little unsure at first, but we took a quick glance at the menu and, with our elementary grasp of Portuguese combined with some educated guessing, we surmised that there were at least a few non-fish options and that the prices were fairly reasonable.

We ventured inside and used hand gestures to indicate that we wanted a table for two.  That was our first indication that this was going to be a good meal--no one spoke English! We muddled through the menu for a few minutes before the waiter realized our difficulties and brought us an international menu.  He tried to speak to us in German, but when that didn't work out, he reverted back to handle signals.  Apparently, we don't look very American, because this was only the first of many instances in which someone would first attempt to speak to us in German.  Maybe I should have chosen a different language in high school!

gonegluten-free.com

Although some of the translations on the English menu were a bit strange, we cross-referenced between the Portuguese and Spanish translations to get the best idea of what it was we were ordering.  Scott ending up getting a meat platter with pork and liver, while I got a traditional Portuguese dish made with corvina.  I wasn't really sure what that was, but I knew I wanted something Portuguese and the waiter assured me that that was a good choice.  Good thing I was really hungry, because corvina is apparently a giant fish (the best translation in English is "seabass," although I don't think it's exactly the same).  The dish I got was a stew of sorts made of potatoes and vegetables in a tomato sauce, with a huge slab of this giant fish plunked right on top.  It was served in something similar to a casserole dish, with a bowl on the side to dish the portions into.  I was told that it was a single-serving portion, but I'm pretty sure that this "single" they're talking about is a 300-pound Portuguese fisherman.  Normally, Scott helps me finish any extra portions of food that I can't get to, but he is really anti-fish.  He did brave one (very tiny) bite, declared it "very fishy," and refused to look at it anymore.  I'm proud to say that I ate the whole thing but two potatoes all by myself!  I'd forgotten my camera at the hotel, but this picture from another website gives you an idea of what the dish was.  Just multiply that by about 6 servings.  Yum!

rutlandsofoakham.co.uk

After lunch, we waddled back to our hotel to check in.  The receptionists were much more attentive this time, and we were sent up to our room in no time.  We were on the third floor, and after walking down what seemed like endless corridors, we found our room towards the back of the hotel.  Apparently, the hotel was made by combining four or five different buildings all into one giant one, so some of the halls were somewhat labyrinthine.  We did eventually find our room, though, and were pleasantly surprised to see a large window that could let in the warm sunshine.  Upon opening it, we realized that we had a wonderful view of... the wall of the other side of the building.  This ended up working to our advantage, though, because the outside rooms all faced right onto the busy street and were quite noisy at all hours of the night.  While we didn't get our beautiful view, we did get quite a bit of sunshine and definitely appreciated the peace and quiet at night.  We unpacked our stuff and relaxed for a few minutes before heading out into the "warm" weather (50° F!) to explore our surroundings.