1 more sleep...

T minus 24… into the last hours now. As hopefully most of you know, tomorrow I am back to life as a Canadian citizen. Scary thought, but that’s the plan. I arrive back home on my little island tomorrow night to spend Christmas with the family, then to abuse my parents’ generousity once again (it is January after all) while I search for work on the east coast.

This year in the UK has been fantastic. I came in March and again starting working at & living in a hostel, this time in Central London. I was there until the end of June, but in early May also started working in Recruitment. I have been sourcing multilingual candidates in the IT sector for a niche company called Euro London Appointments. It’s been a great experience, particularly as I was able to work in an office of multilingual people – most being foreigners or well-travelled English who are young, outgoing and fun. (Most.) ;)

I moved out to Windsor in the first of July to a quaint little terrace house sharing with 5 others girls. Ever hear of Windsor Castle? Queen Elizabeth? Elton John’s marriage? That’s my town. It’s a beautiful town, particularly now that the tourist numbers are fading. Living alongside the world’s largest working castle is an experience in itself. I’ve only been in once (trying to blow it up with my chestnut) but its presence in the town creates a romantic setting for a history starved North American like me.

So with a few travels, massive alcohol consumption and 3 million laughs under my belt it’s time for a new adventure. I will miss England (particularly that fine English cuisine…) and all of the amazing people I have met while here, but know that no matter how often we speak, you will always be someone I think of fondly with memories I will keep close at heart.

So enjoy the holidays. My new year’s resolution is to maintain better contact, so I look forward to speaking with you soon. I hope you have the chance to relax and enjoy the company of those around you, sipping on a cozy cup of mulled wine, nibbling at a mince pie, laughing with those you closest to you.

All the best in the new year,
Becky

Ciao Bella!

1 week and I will be leaving on a jet plane. Don’t know when I’ll be back again (musical interlude provided by your subconscious). Starting to sink in now that I have told everyone, resigned and given up my flat. Too late to change my mind? Even started packing last night. It’s December after all, that obviously means it’s time to pack up my life and start again.

The next week is absolutely mad. I work right up until 6pm Thursday and have every free moment accounted for until then. Thankfully I just came back from a holiday…

Venice… the city of canals… of history & culture… of Italian men! And I was there, in the middle of all of it from last Thursday morning until Monday evening… jealous? You should be! It was incredible! Like nothing I’ve ever seen before – all canals and tiny, winding streets that are so narrow you can open your arms and touch the houses on both sides. It was beautiful and romantic and so full of history and life – I loved it.

To be honest I didn’t do much more than walk around and revel in my surroundings. I would set out with great intentions to see museums and cathedrals and all the other musts, but would lose myself walking along the canals and all the tiny streets and just visit things as I came across them (primarily churches). I went to 3 of the small islands taking the vaperetto (water bus) to 3 of the small islands (Burano – known for its lace making, Morano – known for its glass blowing, and Lido – home of the Venice Film Festival). I loved it all but could have done without Lido. It was a normal busy town with cars and buses and big houses with gates… I just wanted to go back to Venice.

There are no cars in Venice. The city is actually made up of 121 islands, all connected by the little bridges over the canals – some of which would lead merely to someone’s front door. The bus and train station are at one end of the Grand Canal, at the end of the (approx 1 mile long) causeway connecting Venice to the mainland. From there you have only 2 methods of transport – feet or boat (bikes aren’t useful as there are too many bridges – pity anyone with mobility problems!).

Boats – loads of them. Gondolas – only for the tourists (didn’t take one). Transchetto (??) – a gondola boat without the fancy insides used just to take people across the Grand Canal (about a 1 min ride – cost €0.50) (took one). Vaperetto – Water buses transporting hundreds of people through the Grand Canal, around the outer parts of Venice and to the surrounding islands (had a 3 day pass – made good use). Water taxis – can access all the canals and have taxi ranks in certain points. And private boats – obviously valued the same as a car would be in any other town. Don’t understand how the parking works through as I didn’t see any public boat parks or meters next to the piers. Will definitely post pictures!

Guy Fawkes + Gunpowder - 400 years = Bonfire Night

Must backtrack. Lewes… a Protestant stronghold for hundreds of years. It is now the largest Guy Fawkes Day (Bonfire night) celebration in the world. Guy Fawkes was a strong Catholic who 400 years ago, tried to blow up the Protestant King. It was during the period of ‘are we Catholic, are we not?’ (…obviously Guy’s answer was heck ya!)

On 5 November 1605, Guy Fawkes was found in his rented apartment below the House of Lords (seat of English parliament in London) with approximately 35 barrels of gunpowder (hence the name Gunpowder Plot).

Interesting sidenote – in a remote location they did a complete re-enactment this year and aired prior to Bonfire night, merely to see what would have happened had he not been discovered. They constructed a building comparable to the House of Lords and filled it with lifesize dolls representing the members of parliament. Not only did they find the king’s head miles away from the blast, but it completely shattered the 2 metre wide cement walls. They concluded that 1 barrel of gunpowder would have seriously injured those present but there were 35 found that night.

So, in typical polite English fashion, the people screamed bloody Mary and hung Guy & his co-conspirators without hesitation, then went home for tea & crumpets. In the 400 years since, 5 November has always been marked as a symbol of loyalty to the English crown and Protestant faith (‘remember, remember the 5th of November’). Lewes, a small town 30 or 40 miles southeast of London saw much persecution of Protestants (now called martyrs versus those dodgy Catholic hellians) so has through the generations become the focal point of Bonfire Night festivities. There are upwards of 30 Bonfire societies (most in the East Sussex area but are spread through Europe) which have the sole existence of carrying torches through the streets while dressed up as Zulu warriors, Indians, Victorians, etc one night each year.

Bee-zar n’est pas?

Aye, lassie bonnie Scotland ye say

I got behind again. So behind in fact that I don’t remember what I last wrote. Did I talk about our trip to the south west – Exeter, Beer & Abbotsbury? And since then… There was a weekend devoted to the return of Simon & Justin; a Windsor invasion with 6 people cozied into my room; finally seeing Windsor castle (once my chestnut cleared security); seeing The Producers; a Canadian comic winning over the foreigners; watching the locals torchlight procession through Lewes on Bonfire night; shopping at Brick Lane market; and a holiday in Scotland! Where do I begin?

Oh well, suppose I should tell you all I am coming back for Christmas after all and staying. Number of reasons for this – will explain later, but, although it will be hard to leave my friends & castle here, I am looking forward to it. More on that later.

Let’s work backwards… This week is a bit manic as my team is participating in a career fair in London and guess who forged ahead and took lead of that project… no surprises there. It’s good though because last weeks holiday seemed to have cost a bit more that expected so Cheap entertainment is the way forward for the rest of this month! (In the UK the standard is to be paid monthly, leaving 2 weeks as a prince & 2 as a pauper. I hate this method, I just do not have the brains to manage it.)

Ah ye wee lads & lassies, Scotland was bleedin’ lovely! I eventually got there on the Wendesday at noon (note to self, when flying domestically but in a foreign country, passport still required). I met the wonderful Keri Shields in Glasgow where we picked up a car and took off to Oban for the night. Strangely enough as we are both tea-totallers, we ended up in a pub, catching up on 2 years of not having seen each other. 2 years!

Oban’s a lovely town and serves as the port to many of the small islands of Scotchland (remember is highlands AND islands). So on Thursday we hopped on a ferry (a proper 45 min journey including a disembarkation procedure) and went over to Mull. It’s a nice island but has an unfortunately sparse port town, so we bussed to Tobermorray on the other side to wander the picturesque home of the BBC kids show Ballymorray. Back to Oban in the evening for a treat … a movie! (Seeing as we both live in towns without cinemas, this was cause for serious excitement). We saw the Brit faves Wallace & Gromit and laughed but not loudly as we comprised 25% of the audience!

Friday was a true day in the highlands …gale force winds, torrential downpours and all! We headed up to Fort William, a lovely coastal town, (barren of people as a result of the weather) then on to Glenfinnan to see the old rail bridge used in Harry Potter and a big monument to something - it was raining & flooding too hard to get close enough to see what it was!

Through the highlands and down to St Fillan’s for a night at Kewi’s hotel and a chance to meet the locals. She’s in a village on Lake Earan (forgive my destruction of the Scottish place names), right in the centre of Scotland and at the ‘gateway to the highlands’.

Saturday we parted as I took the scenic route back to the car rental company in Glasgow, then met up with my friend Lee in Glasgow. It had only been 2 weeks since we’d seen each other but we had heaps to catch up on and spent the evening walking & gossiping.

Sunday I was about early seeking a walking tour (oh, how I love my walking tours) but instead found the city’s Remembrance Day ceremony. They mark the occasion the Sunday closest to 11 November as that is not a holiday here. It was rather sad that in a city of 600,000 + there were more participants in the ceremony than spectators. So I paid my respects & was thrilled by a Scottish drum & pipe band in Scotland, then continued on, visiting the cathedral precint. I have to say, churches excite me less & less.

I quickly toured the oldest house in Scotland but it was such a beautiful day (cold but sunny & dry) that I just wanted to be outside. So I wandered until meeting Lee again and heading to the Barras (markets) and some shops, etc. All the sudden it was 10pm & I was on a bus to the airport. I had the first flight out in the am and didn’t trust myself to get up at 4am to get the only bus that would get me there on time, so I , like about 40 others, rested my weary head (and feet) on the airport benches. Ahh… the luxury.

Back to work Monday afternoon… that was just stupid planning I must say.

Must tell you about Lewes … but not now. A bientot!

I missed a week. Forgive me.

Highlights include: a 14th century church, seeing men hurl themselves at rubbish bins, a wade through a river, and seeing Chicago live.

Right so, seems like last week was a busy one but I can’t really remember what I was up to. Wednesday night I went into London to meet Line & Leander to god to the theatre. There is so much theatre in London that there are cheap ticket booths all around where you can get last minute tickets for most shows at really good rates. I’ve been a bit stupid and haven’t been taking advantage of this very often so I conned these 2 into a night out (line’s first time seeing live theatre!). We were very late due to the snail pace bus we were on which dared to break the space time continuum (lee thought we may wake in Egypt at any moment), but ended up being able to get cheap tickets at the theatre for Chicago 10 mines before the show, which, to our delight were then upgraded to better seats. The production was fantastic - how can a movie ever compare to the real thing?

On Friday Sandra, one of the German spies, & I rented a car and went down to Exetor. Hilarious reaction when we told people at work about this as Exetor is about 175 miles form Windsor and about 3-4 hours drive – apparently an epic journey if you are British. A 1 hour drive requires an over night stop in this country. But us Canucks… and Sandra lived a few years in California, so she loves road trips! We got into Exetor easily (finding the hostel that was on the main road we drove in on proved a much greater mission) and decided to see what a Friday night looked like… mot great. Tad frightening in fact. Like any small English town it was overflowing with young people who were… ‘well pissed’ as they say. And loud. So a group of ‘gentle’men who looked old enough to know much better, felt it wise to run full speed down a crowded street, catapulting themselves toward the bolted down rubbish bins. We were confused as to how a winner was declared but decided not to stick around long enough to discover.

Don’t get me wrong, Exetor was a lovely town with an astoundingly large cathedral being the focus and large portions of the city wall remaining, but it will forever be marred in my eyes by the bin bashing boy bingers.

Saturday we moved on to Dartmoor National park (Sorry – we are on the Southwest corner of England for this story) to see the ‘Tors’ – large limestone … hills? Sculptures? Formations? Which sporadically appear on the hillsides. The ground is all granite with just a thin layer of peat over top, allowing very little to grow there and looking alarmingly like Connemara – the region of Ireland I lived in. Very rugged and beautiful dark shades this time of year.

Promise I will eventually post pics to describe all of this!

We went through picturesque little villages full of stone cottages and thatched roofs all along the way as we wound through the area on roads narrower that your average Chrysler, enjoying the reality of that idyllic image we all have of England. After a few walks, some prehistoric sites (how can something be prehistory? I know they mean pre-recorded but it’s a silly word) and a 13th century bridge (seriously – there is a village built up around this called Postbridge) we headed back to lively Exetor to rejoin society? A couple pints of cider (we had to – it comes from this area) in a cozy traditional town pub (which is now part of a chain) and we were knackered.

Sunday was a truly special day for me… the day I found my true religion. Something that really calls my spirit. A faith I can blindly follow. I have even begun carrying a picture of it around with me on my phone as a reminder of the greater gospel. The picture is of a sign we say on our travels reading “Beer Gospel Hall”. It was like my own personal Mecca. Seeing the messiah. Being born again. How I have lived this lifestyle without knowing there was a leader and a gospel is beyond me.

What?

We were in a fishing village along the Jurassic Coast curiously named Beer. Beer Congregation Church. Beer Hospital. Beer Bank. Beer Shop. Beer Beach. Beer Port. Beer Gospel Hall. It was like a spiritual retreat.

But no, I didn’t have a beer in Beer. In fact I didn’t think of it. It was Sunday morning and I did have another 200 miles to drive that day so had I thought of it, either I would have made a responsible decision or we would still be there. Not sure which is more likely.

Beyond Beer, we found Lyme Regis, another port town along the coast, perfect for fish & chips on the sea front (unfortunately accompanied by the biggest damn seagulls I have ever seen – 1 of my 4 hates they are along with frozen peas, dirty counters and something else I can’t remember). Don’t really remember anything special about Lyme Regis so let’s move on. Oh wait – this whole coast form Exetor to Weymouth is call the Jurassic Coast because it is one of the first places in the world (I think) to have found dinosaur bones. Or remains of large dogs.

So we carried on to Abbotsbury. We knew nothing of this place but were following the advice of Ian-the-car-rental-guy-Ian. Last time I rented form him he gave a few suggestions of towns we wouldn’t have otherwise thought about but which were not to be missed, so I knew to listen up this time round.

Abbotsbury has the ruins of an 11th century abbey (think abbots were buried there maybe?) and a beautiful (still standing) 14th century church set up on a hill overlooking the fair village below. It’s St Catherine’s church, named for the patron saint of spinsters… Sandra and (already feeling so close to god after the mission to Beer) said our prayers (and our mothers prayers for us) … twice. Just to be safe. And once more for good luck.

Here’s where I really need pictures to explain. Looking out from the hill top church you can see Chesil beach (still part of the Jurassic coast). It’s completely made of stone and runs about 25 miles along the coast but is like a hill, rising to 5 m in places. Where we were is actually separated from land by a stream about 2m wide. We couldn’t quite see that from the top of the hill and decided to go to the coast – couldn’t get so close and not see it.

We trudged on down through the fields of sheep and long grass and, knowing there was a public path somewhere near, were only slightly concerned by the NO ACCESS signs on the gates we were climbing over… until we found ourselves walking through field of reeds taller than we were, able only to see that there was swap either side of our narrow path. Excited to see the end and come so close to the beach, finding this stream was not fun. We debated every which way (Sandra wanted to run and jump it. Right, have you experienced even an hour with me Sandra? Scaling a 2-metre jump is not in the cards). We almost gave up until I turned around to see Sandra with her jeans rolled up to her knees, shoes in hand. Damn Germans never give up.

Remember the kid’s song Going On a Lion Hunt? Can’t go over it, can’t go under it, have to go THROUGH it!

The beach was amazing and well worth it. I concede defeat. We walked, we enjoyed, we got soaked (I forgot to mention it was raining during this entire Abbotsbury episode) so 3 hours later we headed back home to Windsor.

And now another week is gone by without many tales to tell. But tomorrow sees the return of Justin from Germany and with Lee around for another week and Siim having just returned from Estonia, trouble is sure to ensue. Funny – the sung the ‘old black rhum’ just came on. A premonition perhaps?

An Oxford MBA - At £26,500 it's an option...

I mean that's only CAD $60,000 + living expenses, so it's doable.

Right. Yesterday Sandra, one of my German spy roommates & I wspent the day in oxford. It's a lovely toewn twith the individual college campus which form Oxford university (the oldest English-speaking uni in the world) scatted throughout the town. There's 15 individual colleges which all come under the governance of the university. Basically, when you apply to the university you are encouraged to do a gerneral application regarding the colleges, but specify which subject area. Then you are admitted to the uni into a specific college. You're first and third years (only 3yr degrees in the UK) you live in your college and have all your tutorials there (private tutorials are a distinguishing feature of an Oxford education). Your lectures are in faculty buildings throughout the town and are taken by all students from all colleges 'reading' the same degree as you.

The history of the different colleges is deep and complex, some dating back to the 13th century, but as far as Sandra & I can figure, they are more like separate residence halls than universities now.

Was incredible to see some of the colleges and hear the stories of how they became or who attended (we did a 2.5 hour walking tour). But I think what got me the most was the book stores. Massive bookstores but of the proper sort. Not Chapters or Borders (although there was one of those) but proper over stocked shelves and floors upon floors of books where you really could get lost and lose yourself. There were brightly coloured special offers and discount card promotions and brand name coffees, but there was also an atmosphere that every bookstore should have but fewer and fewer do. That air of wonder and curiousity and knowing that answers to all your questions were all around you.

I love bookstores. I didn't do very well at restraining myself.

What else... We had a work-do the other night where we went 10-pin bowling. I realized it was the first time I had ever done that! It's always been small-ball 5 pin, but this was so much more fun (and increased the injury potential greatly)! There were a few Fred Flinstone moments (including me dropping the ball during the backswing/windup and then painfully watching it roll down the gutter at .0267 miles per hour) but loads of laughs. I work with a really fun lot so put 18 of us in a bowling alley and entertainment is guaranteed.

Now I'm just waiting for Lee & Line to arrive in Windsor for the afternoon evening. Thin we will enjoy a Sunday roast seeing as there is no Thanksgiving here, and then meet some other friends at a pub in Eton for some live music. (Ever hear of Eton College where Harry & Wills went to school? it's just on the other side of the river (thames) from Windsor) .

Happy Birthday Grampy - the old guy is 85 tomorrow... and more lively than the rest of us! Enjoy, hope the sisters are good to you!

the cat came back

Here I am, second time this week. Am back at the hostel visiting - another double leaving party last night. More goodbyes. I hadn't been here in almost a month (since the hat trick leaving party of Frantoine, Siim & JZ) and I had to introduce myself to almost everyone. Only 2 from my era are still living here. But nice that many of us are still in the country or coming back and are in touch.

What else... one of my fave things about London is that I noticed the address for Random House one day in a book. I then realized it was on the next road over from the hostel and I passed it 2x a day. Random House - right there. Simple but interesting. And today Line, David & I took Julia to the station and then had a nice 2 hour meander home. We passed the Tate gallery on the way and noticed the side of the building was damaged - that's presumably from air raids during the war. it's just the massive amounts of history all around me that astounds me.

Have had no sleep... time to go back to Windsor.