Don't Step on the Cracks Because of the Bears

I arrived in London at Waterloo Station and was picked up by Jen from my study abroad days/daze and her friend Debs (no relation to Debs from Life As We Know It--thank god) who was visiting from Wales.  We went back to Jen's and dropped off my bag and Debs's backpack and headed to Borough.

We walked around it a few times taking in the sights and smells and stealing free samples.  Had some lovely fresh made Indian pesto.  

It feels appropriate to have my first photo back in London be of Borough Market.

Debs and Jen got paella (which I tried.  And which was better than the paella from the French market the previous Saturday.) while I got a grilled halloumi wrap.  It was just as delicious as I remembered.

As we continued to walk around, I stopped to take a photo of the olive booth.  This might seem unnecessary to some of you, but I have been searching for an olive stand anywhere close to comparable to the one at Borough.  No dice.  

    Afterwards, we stopped at the newsagents where in Wolfson Days (Wolfson House was where I lived in London, for those who are new to my life) we would go for last minute beverages (read booze) to get some Bigga, which is this ridiculous Jamaican soda that is practically fluorescent.  We had plans to play Kings later.  After we got off the bus to get back to Laura and Jen's apartment, we actually ran into Laura who was on her way back from lectures and we giddily ran to each other.  Tender.  Then we walked back to their flat and we all caught up for a bit before watching The In-Betweeners, because that's what real British people do.  And didn't you know I'm also British?  Anyway, we watched that while we ate some takeaway Chinese food.  They ordered some things that I'm willing to bet aren't Chinese, but then again, neither are a lot of things that we get.  But I'm fairly certain there's no Chinese dish called "pancakes" that are like tortillas.  But who knows?  (I don't mean to call anyone out, but I expect AmyXu's feedback on this one.  As she knows all about secret menus for Chinese people.)  We never did play Kings.

    The next day we had a bit of a late start, but we managed to make it to the Bloomsbury Festival, which was a festival in the Bloomsbury area of London.  Apparently, this area is marked by organic people and modern dance and adorable children.  The kind of people who wear Anthropologie basically.  Got an image?  Good.  Anyway, it was put on by UCL (University College London) and SOAS (School of Oriental and African Studies).  It had art in the trees, live world music performances, noms food, and crafts for sale.  It was really lovely and we had perfect weather for it.  
     We walked around for a bit and then stopped for lunch.  We all participated in the "Tree of Life," which had people writing their names on white paper doves and then clipping them to a net strung between some trees.  This is not environmentally friendly, but isn't it pretty to think so?  (That doesn't fit there, but I want it to.)  We also learned about microbes in a tent from UCL, made handprints, watched a flash mob of unaccompanied modern dancers, saw a Dickensian-clad character riding around on a Victorian bike, and marveled over the delicious hot apple cider.  For lunch, Jen and Debs got pork sandwiches pulled freshly from the roasting pork that was on site.  Laura and I got falafel.  noms.  We consulted a map of the festival and saw that there was “Hanging Out in the Park” not too far and so Jen, Debs, and I got cupcakes for the road. 
            Due to the description of the event, we started taking bets on what exactly “Hanging Out in the Park” would be.  Laura thought it would be a series of ropes so that we could swing from tree to tree like a ropes course for a team building exercise.  Kind of like this.  Or like Tarzan.  I knew that if that was the case, I would not be participating.  Jen thought it would be a giant swing stretched between trees.  Both were wrong!  Suckas!  It was home furniture hanging by ropes all the way around this tree.  Like a stationary carousel.  

Please note the mixed children in the front.

But it also had lamps hanging from it.  It was really cool to see, though often treacherous to make swing.  Some of the people were out of control and pounced on a particular chair as soon as it was available.  All in all, it was fun, though.  While we were “hanging out,” an a capella group came out of nowhere and started singing that “I’ll take the high road and you’ll take the low road” song out of nowhere.  Could there be anything more United Kingdom?  Probs not but I kept my snark to myself because I LOVE LONDON.

          We then wanted to go hear some music at yet another park, but when we arrived at the park gates, we were dismayed to see that we weren’t allowed inside.   In many parks in Britain, apparently, adults aren’t allowed in parks unless they are with a child.  So we turned back and found ourselves at the Foundling Museum, which is a museum that houses the remains of one of the Foundling Hospital, which was London’s first home for abandoned children that was around for over 200 years.  It was full of mementos from mothers who had abandoned their children on the doorsteps.  The women would often leave behind rings or notes or ribbons as keepsakes for the children.  Unfortunately, though, the people who ran the home would take the items in order to preserve the parents’ anonymity.  Isn’t that so sad?  So they have hundreds of books of lists of childrens’ names with the scrap of clothing included, but the orphans had no idea about any of it.  Some of the children came with notes saying the chosen names (one that stands out was about a child named Florella), but the place would rename the kids anyway.  (Random: they had a list of all the children’s names on one of the walls.  The place named one of the boys Thomas Africa.  Badass, right?)  When Debs stepped out for a smoke, we all decided to move on.  (Look, Alex.  Look how short that description of a museum was.  Now you can’t ever complain about my details again.  Mkthnxbi.)

            We started walking back towards the bus but it was a bit chilly (and a bit early) and so we stopped into a café for some coffee.  While we were chatting, Debs realized that she had spoken to Laura on the phone months before.  Debs is a personal assistant for British Waterways and Laura is currently writing her dissertation on the invasion of crawfish in one of the waterways in London.  This world is full of strange coincidences. 

            We then all set on our merry way because Debs had to catch her train, Laura had to get to the library, Jen had to get to babysitting, and I had to get to a surprise party.  No, it wasn’t for me.  The story of my decision to go to London goes like this: Once upon a time I knew I had a Toussaints vacation coming up and I had no idea what to do.  I had literally not looked up any flights or trains.  Then I went on Facebook while at Macdo with Kirsty (yes, it’s when she was still here) and saw that Adam was throwing a surprise birthday party for his girlfriend and my friend Laura.  (This Laura is pronounced like you would pronounce it in Spanish.  Or Portuguese, which is what she is.)  I was bummed because I thought it was ridiculous to get there for just a weekend for the cost.  But as I was walking back home, I realized that it was the first weekend of my Toussaints vacation and it seemed like a sign from God that that’s what I should be doing with my vacation.  And so I booked it.

            So I took the bus from Jen’s place to the stop she had told me to get off at and started looking around for Old Kent Road, which is the main street off of which Adam and Laura live.  I was looking at Jen’s A-Z when this Irish woman came up to me and asked if I knew where Old Kent Road was.  Obvio, I said I was looking for it, but that it had to be nearby because I had just gotten off the bus at the Old Kent Road/East Street stop and she said that some dude had just told her it was straight ahead, so we walked on together.  She’s a chef and had worked in Napa (and really all over the world) and was on her way to a Bolivian restaurant.  When we got to Old Kent Road, we parted. 

            I got to Adam’s no problem after that.  JJ (a friend from study abroad), though quite surprised to see me, let me in.  There was a tall blonde guy standing next to him and at first I was going to hug him because I thought maybe I knew him, but thank god I read his face quick enough to realize he had no clue who I was.  His name is Jupe.  He’s a new friend of Adam and the gang’s.  (“The gang” is physios—Adam, JJ, Laura.  Physios are people who study what I think is like physiotherapy.  Not gonna lie, I’m not entirely clear on what it is.  But it is medicine related.)

            We went into the living room where a massive number of people were waiting for Laura (who had been out since 12:30—mind you it was now 7:15).  Adam said everyone’s names and I tried to put them together.  Fail.  Since I didn’t really know anyone, I helped myself to some punch because that always helps to make friends.  Luckily, shortly thereafter, some people that I do know entered.  Jeev!  We chatted for a bit before playing balloon soccer for a few minutes.   Everyone passed around a book of nice thoughts to sign for Laura and Jeev did a masterful block lettering of “Happy Birthday.”  Seriously, though.  I should’ve taken a photo.  We waited for about 30 more minutes before Laura actually came in.  She was surprised.  Success! 

            There was cake.  Naturally, I tried it.  But I only had one bite because I swear it tasted like moist cornbread with chocolate frosting.  So I gave the rest of my piece to one of Adam’s friends from home, Jo, who had rapidly become my bestie for a few minutes.  She enjoyed it.  While everyone was jamming, Ruthie’s (another friend from Wolfson) boyfriend Paapa (new to the scene for me) asked if I wanted to join in Centurion with him, Jeev, and JJ.  Not knowing what it was and because I’m prête à tout, I agreed.  Do you know what Centurion is?  Do you know what a Power Hour is?  A Power Hour is one shot of beer for each minute of an hour.  A Centurion is the same idea for 100 minutes.  Having attempted a Power Hour before but knowing when to take 13 minute breaks, I figured why not?  Well, it apparently wasn’t even that serious because we had no way of keeping track of the minutes, and I think that by minute 17, we had all dropped out. 

            Then we were all suddenly going to The Big Chill, a bar/club in London and Adam was shooing everyone out the door.  Don’t worry, though.  Everyone just took their drinks with them to the bus stop.  Is this a student habit?  Yes.  Is it also way more acceptable to see British people carrying their drinks through the streets than it will ever be in America?  Yes.  You see why I love this place!?

            The rest of the night was dancing and drinking and jokes nonstop.  I made more best friends with Adam’s friends from home so I view the evening as a success.  When it was time to go home, I took the bus with everyone to Elephant and Castle and then switched to get to Laura and Jen’s.  Because I was nervous I would miss the bus stop for their place I got off one stop before.  Totally on purpose.  (Not.)  Laura, being concerned for my well-being, had walked to the stop with their third roommate, Emma, to meet me.  I power-walked it up to them and then ate all of Laura’s fries from Chicken Cottage.  (There are chicken joints all over London: KFC, HFC, Chicken Cottage, and many more!) 

            The next day, Jen and Laura were at the library all day and so I basically stayed in.  Maybe that seems like a waste to you, but I really dislike being places with too many people, so I was happy to stay in bed and watch all the disks of The In-Betweeners.  For dinner, I met Laura and Jen at Giraffe on South Bank.  I don’t know how I did it, but I got lost for like 20 minutes even though I was only about 2 blocks from where we were meeting.  Mess.  As usual.  (Side note: Before I got on the bus, I had to top up my Oyster card and I found the receipt yesterday.  I topped up at Afroworld Super Store.  How ace is that?)

            On Monday, Jen, Laura, and I got up early to get to Primark, which is a crazy cheap store that’s like Forever 21 but less money.  And that is where the title of the blogpost comes from.  Across from the bus stop, there was a sign up that had all these little thoughts to make you smile or remember your youth—you know.  It was around a construction sight so that it was more becoming or something.  Anyway, I understood all of them except for “Don’t step on a crack because of the bears.”  You know how Americans say “Step on a crack, break your mother’s back”?  Apparently, in London, it’s “Don’t step on a crack or the bears will come and get you.”  Another reason I love London: Bears.  (And beets?)

            When we arrived at Primark, it was practically empty so we went to town.  Laura had to get a pair of boots because her toes were literally coming out of the pair on her feet.  I came out with red tights for my Halloween costume, two pairs of gloves, a plastic travel bag with bottles included, and devil ears.  All for £4!  Jen had to get to the library and so she hopped on the bus while I continued down Oxford Street (the main shopping road in London) and popped into some old faithfuls before getting to the British Museum. 

 

        Some of you might be thinking, did I just go to Jess’s old blog?  No!  I’m still in France.  But the British Museum is so pretty, I have to take a picture every time I can.  And you can also see how beautiful the weather was.  I’m spoiled.  I walked around inside for probably around 2 hours.  They have this cool exhibit where it’s the history of the world or something in 100 objects.  The problem, however, is that object 1 is in room 4 but then object 5 is in room 69 (Shout out to Bert Bernacchi.)  or something.  So I went to the wing that I wanted to see and made sure to see all the objects on my path.  As I was walking through the Roman exhibit, there was a woman giving a presentation where you could hold actual pieces from the museum’s collection.  Naturally, I stopped to hear Julie Goldberg (Stephi, do you know why I’m shouting you out?) talk about it.  That she was American was really just icing on the cake.  So, yeah, no big deal.  While I was in London, I held Roman money and flint tools that are 2000 years old.  Get on my level.  

       I continued through the museum.  I saw some Russian propaganda china (which was recently brought back), a suffreagette defaced penny, old writing tablets, the Rosetta Stone (which is SO mixed—because of all the different writings’ languages.  It's the first bilingual text, d00d.), and some clocks.  I mention the clocks specifically because there was one massive clock from 1589 that had been modeled on the cathedral in Strasbourg (big ups, JRich).  It said that at every hour it plays music by Martin Luther, “Vater Unser”/“Our Father.”  Well, it was only 12:35, so I figured I could wander around nearby rooms for 25 minutes to see some musical magic from over 400 years ago.  At 12:55, with camera poised to take some video for you lot, I joined a small group crowding around the clock to see magic.  At 1:02 it dinged.  At 1:05, I walked away and down the stairs, thoroughly disappointed.  When I was halfway down the stairs, I heard the tinkling melody of a musical clock.  I bolted back just in time to hear the music stop and watch the clock’s figures stop moving. 

      One of the last pieces I saw before I left was number 2 on the 100 Objects tour.  It was a chopping tool that’s the oldest human made object in the Museum’s collection.  That seemed important, so here’s a photo: (How they knew it was an object and not just a rock is beyond me.)

          I left the museum to continue my walk toward Trafalgar Square/the National Gallery.  I stopped for some chocolate honeycomb ice cream because I am obsessed with Crunchie bars, but I was disappointed.  I also got some lunch.  I’m healthy.  Don’t worry.  Instead of going to the National Gallery, I went into the National Portrait Gallery, which is just across the street and equally free.  I couldn’t possibly have looked at all of the portraits in there, so I decided to just look at the ones of women because their stories are more interested than dozens of men with the same story.  What up, Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies? 

           They also had an interesting exhibit on of photographs of British people now living in America.  But the coolest portrait they had wasn’t painted at all.  It was “The Head of Isabella Blow” by Tim Noble and Sue Webster.

          I left around 4:15 to get to the Temple tube station by 5 to meet Laura so I could see her netball match.  Many of you probs aren’t familiar with netball.  If you are, congrats.  An award is in the mail.  This was my first experience with it.  It’s basically basketball with less momentum.  Anytime you catch the ball, you have to stop running.  You can’t dribble.  Each position can only occupy certain parts of the court.  If you’re shooting, no one can be within a meter of you.  Ridiculous.  But I thought it was important to my education as a British person as it’s the game that they make girls play since it’s apparently a girls-only sport.  Laura’s team lost: 11-25.

       The next day I started a bit slowly, but I made my way to the Museum of London, which Julie Goldberg had mentioned when talking about money the day before.  She said that someone had found something like 300 gold roman coins and donated them instead of asking for their worth in real dollaz/pounds.  She also said this was pre-economic crisis.  As soon as I walked in, I knew it was going to be a mistake.  Not because the museum would be uninteresting.  It was a museum specifically dedicated to the history of London from ancient times to today.  This museum was a mistake because it’s half term in most of Europe (obvio since that’s why I was on vacation there) and so it was crawling with children.  Throughout the museum, there were packs of young children in neon vests on field trip from a nursery or on leashes. 
 
What was really cool about this museum was that they had reconstructions of typical rooms of the period throughout.  So, when I walked by one room, which was essentially straw beds with a wooden post in the middle, there was a little girl trying to put everyone to sleep and a boy rabidly swishing a crude prop broom back and forth shouting, “Make it clean!  Make it clean!”  Ah, domesticity.

          I continued walking through time, until I saw a painting of medieval London that caught my eye.  This is the painting:

Now why should this be interesting?  First of all, it’s interesting to see what London looked like so many moons ago.  But upon closer inspection, it’s ridiculous to see that there are heads sticking out of that castle!  

Obvio it’s because the King would put heads of those who plotted against him on spikes as warnings to others, but still.  That these would be included in the painting is kind of grotesque.  Or sentimental?  You decide.  Walking walking walking until I stopped at the plague where they had samples of the scents that people would wear around their necks to ward off the disease.  Which would you choose:               

a) lavender

b) cloves

c) pomme d’ambre (a mixture of whale vomit, animal scents, and flowers sometimes threaded onto a string, or contained in an object called a Pomander)

        
I continued on to see the Great Fire.  It’s kind of ridiculous how much of the city was taken out by it.

When I later was discussing it with Adam, he said that they should have another fire so that London could start over.  Adam is always a ray of sunshine in my life. 

I zoom zoom zoomed through a bunch of stuff.  I stopped to take some pictures of this massive dollhouse that some little boy once owned.  Can you believe that those walls are hand-painted.  My Gpa once gave my sister and I a dollhouse, and I thought it was the bomb.com, and I still do.  But this house is ridiculous!

I walked into this recreation of an English Pleasure Garden, where people would get all dolled up and walk around the gardens.  This tradition lasted about 200 years.  Naturally, you had to pay.  You could see performances and buy prostitutes there.  It sounds like a smashing time.  In any event, I had just walked in when there was an announcement that there would be a performance in the Pleasure Garden.  Why not?  So I waited around while this performance of Mary Prince’s life happened.  Basically, it was this one woman talking about slavery.  Since it was suitable for ages 5 and up, it had a lot of audience participation built in.  She had the kids pretending to wash clothes, wash the floor, and the like.  She’d ask questions like, “Would you want to have to work all day without friends?” and invariably, one kid would say, “Yes.”  She had a few lay on a wooden plank and one kid said, “Not too bad.”  She talked about her escape and had everyone sing “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.”  Everyone joined in.  Next to me, a girl said, “Mum.  Stop.”  Gotta love it.

I buzzed through modern London and left to get to Kensington for some lunch and see the Natural History Museum.  I got off at High Street Kensington with the hope that this French boulangerie/restaurant would still be in business because they have a delicious mozzarella and tomato sandwich.  I think it also has oregano and pepper on it.  And Montparnasse was still there!  The sandwich was magnificent.  Better, even, than I remembered.  Next time you’re in London, go there!  I lingered a bit since it was raining.  When I heard everyone behind the counter speaking French, I basked in it.  When I paid and the fellow couldn’t understand what I was saying, I made a quick translation and said a “Bonne journée” and bounced. 

I wandered over to the Natural History Museum, which wasn’t too far. As I passed the outdoor area in front, which is a large garden, I was shocked at the serpentine line filling the space.  It was like people were waiting in line for a roller coaster.  I almost didn’t go in.  But, I smartly walked around the corner to the much shorter line and got in within 10 minutes.  Dominate.

Several people had recommended the Natural History Museum to me, and it certainly didn’t disappoint.  Sadly, I went into the ecology portion of the museum first, which was a complete downer.  I already know that everything I’ve ever done is ruining the Earth, but there’s only so much I can do!  So I kind of hurried through there.  I went through the rest, looking at the inside of a plant cell, tons of taxidermy animals from people’s personal collections, skeletons, rocks, and on and on and on.  Here is the giant ground sloth that lived in the grasslands of South America until about 10,000 years ago.  Its scientific name, Megatherium, means “big animal” (I heart straightforwardness).  Of course, since it had no natural enemies its extinction is linked to the first arrival of humans in South America.  Way to go, guys.  Dodo birds and ground sloths:  Check.

I went into the main hall and was basically overwhelmed by the number of people.  This is the dinosaur skeleton that is set up in there:

Look at its baby head!  But, srsly, look at how many people are in this museum.  No wonder as I walked through, there was a kid lying face-down on the floor and crying.  (I didn’t go into the dinosaur area of the museum, though, because there was a 45 minute wait to get inside.  Forgive me?)  In the main hall, they also have a cutout of a giant redwood’s trunk.  They talk about how long they can live and all the things that happened during the tree’s lifetime [including Joan of Arc (my Confirmation name), Columbus, pilgrims, the discovery of gravity].  But it doesn’t matter because, as usje, humans chopped it down.  I also looked at some glow in the dark minerals and the museum’s vault for jewels.  You know, just shopping around. 

            I was about to leave when I realized I hadn’t seen the life-size whale that they have hanging.  So I turned around and made myself part of the throng of people pushing through the corridor to reach the room.  This room basically has all the riffraff animals to whom the museum didn’t give a hallway.  Like giraffes, rhinos, whales, dolphins, lions.  I don’t know how they group these things, but here’s a photo that kind of gives a sense of how large whales are?

I booked it out of there as quickly as possible since I wanted to put something in the post before heading back.  Naturally, though, since I was in Kensington, I stopped by Buttercup Bakery to pick up some sweets for my hostesses.  This place has the best cupcakes in London.  Well, at least the best that I found after trying cakes from at least 4 places.  (I’m serious about cake.)  They’re the bomb, baby.  Bomb, baby.  Then I headed back to Laura and Jen’s.

            The next day I got up and made some banana bread for them.  I only had some of the crust, but it was noms.  I was supposed to be at Adam’s around 10:30, so naturally, I showed up at 11:50.  I set down my stuff, he gave me a tour of his house (which he shares with 5 girls—sorority style), and we peaced out.  We walked through Guy’s Campus (the science part of King’s) and he showed me the new café as we walked towards the South Bank.  It felt good to be back on my old stomping grounds.    We walked essentially from Elephant and Castle to Waterloo.  We lunched in the food court of the hospital that’s by Waterloo Bridge.  

We stopped in at this art exhibit at the South Bank Centre that featured art by convicts and psych ward patients.  It was very interesting.

We started walking back towards Adam’s because we had about an hour and a half left before we were to go to the theater.  We were by Millennium Bridge when we realized that there was really no sense in going back because by the time we would arrive at Adam’s we’d have to turn back.  So we stopped into Caffè Nero and got some hot chocolates before heading back. 

            Laura met us at the theater just in time to get inside.  We saw Men Should Weep at the National Theater for £10.  It was a Scottish play, so it was sometimes difficult to understand.  The elderly American couple sitting next to me agreed.  How do I know?  Twice during the show, the gentleman leaned over to the lady and said, “I can’t understand a thing.”  She didn’t answer both times.  Then he waited a few minutes and leaned over again, whispering gruffly, “Can you understand anything?”  She quickly responded, “No.”  A few times, he would as her a question and she would summarize the scene for him.  I found it endearing but hilarious.  We took the bus home and had some pizza for dinner while watching 30 Rock. 

           The next day, Adam went to class for a bit so I made cookies.  When he got back, we watched some movies.  We started with Milk, then watched Shaun of the Dead.  Milk was excellent.  I nearly cried.  But then didn’t because Adam ridicules me constantly.  Shaun of the Dead was far less so.  With dinner we watched The Shawshank Redemption.  I thought of my pa as Red (Morgan Freeman—always a good choice) said, “Get busy livin’ or get busy dyin’.”  Really quality filmmaking.  Jupe had joined us somewhere along the line and so Laura, Jupe, Adam, and I went to the cinema to see The Social Network, which has not yet made it to Belley’s cinéma.

            On Friday, we had a late start due to the late evening.  I got up early, enjoyed unrestricted interwebs for a bit and then around eleven, Jupe woke up Laura and Adam so we could go to Borough Market.  Because once is never enough.  Jupe went off to the hospital while Laura, Adam, and I continued on.  We wandered around for a bit while looking for Jeev and Tom (another Wolfson character).  Jeev had brought his lunch, but the rest of us hadn’t.  So, naturally, we decided to partake in one of the more exotic meals available at Borough: ostrich burgers!  They were really good, actually.  I got mine with cranberry sauce and carmelized onions.  They tasted like beef burgers.  But maybe moister?  I don’t know.  I recommend trying them since I was too scurred to try them the whole time I lived in London.  Grow up.

            We goofed off for a bit before Jeev went home, Tom went to the gym, and I took the tube to King’s Cross to catch a train up to Leeds for the weekend.  Had no problem getting up.  On the train, though, there was a small girl who had a toy that recorded and repeated everything she said.  So whenever she shrieked at delight at its ability to record and repeat everything she said, I was sure to hear it repeated back in recording.  After we got to the first stop, the (American!) host came on the speaker and reminded people that the bar car was open and “It is Friday, so why not have a G&T?”  Not that anyone needed encouragement since there was a group of about 5 men who pulled out their 6 packs as soon at the train left King’s Cross.

            I got off the train at nearly 5 pm to meet Greg, Kawai’s boyfriend.  Yes, this is the same Kawai of Alex’s childhood and, therefore, also mine.  We quickly got on another train to head to the ‘burbs to pick up their dog, Winston Taro Kennedy, from Greg’s parents’ home.  While there, we also picked up massive amounts of Halloween costumes and miscellany such as pumpkin cups, skeleton mugs, and you get the picture.  Greg’s pops then gave us a lift back to Greg and Kawai’s.

            When we got back, Kawai was just starting dinner: an asian stirfry.  She asked me, “Is it stereotypical for us to be having a stirfry because I’m asian?”  I assured her that of course it was.  While I chopped up a storm, she mixed, and Greg scooped the bits out of a pumpkin to make us homemade pumpkin pie for dessert.  When dinner was ready, we sat down to watch some of this British series, The IT Crowd, but it wasn’t my favorite.  Then we flipped around channels for a bit, stopping to watch Come Dine with Me, which is awesome and catty.  It’s a group of four people and each day, the group goes to one person’s house for a homemade meal.  The winner gets £1000.  The commentaries are really stunning, and the narrator takes the piss out of each person.  (I feel totally comfortable using “take/taking the piss” now.  It means “making fun of.”)  It’s a pretty ridiculous show, and during one episode a guy came out in his underwear during the dinner party and put on a mask while singing this song so that he could see into the future.  So great.  Kawai also signed the two of us up to take an exercise class at their gym called “Body Attack.”  I went to bed frightened.

The next day, we got up around 8:30 to be at the gym by 10 because first we had to get to the Laundromat.  For breakfast, we had protein shakes.  We set off for the Laundromat and deposited everything in a machine before driving a few blocks away to go for a walk in the woods with Winston.  Kawai is trying to get back into photography, so she often stopped to take a photo.  But, usually, they were of Winston.  We hurried back to the clothes to change them to the dryer.  We waited and I watched the news since it was the weekend of the printer cartridges in the cargo planes.  We got the clothes and scooted back to Kawai and Greg’s to get changed for the gym.  Naturally, I hadn’t brought any exercise clothes or shoes, so I borrowed from Kawai (Her feet are a size 10.  I’m an 8.5 but no matter.) and when I had gotten dressed, Greg said I looked like “mini Kawai.”  Dreams can come true!

            Sadly, we arrived at the gym at 10:05, making us too late to waltz into Body Attack.  Jokes.  I was elated because I was scurred.  Since I obvio haven’t been running in Belley, I didn’t want to embarrass Kawai at her gym with my pathetic-ness.  So we all just went into the cardio/weights room and I was happy to get back on the elliptical, which I wasn’t expecting to see at all while I’m in Europe.  After doing about 30 minutes, Greg and Kawai said that they were ready to go.  So I don’t know how she had planned on us doing the workout class, which would have attacked our bodies for a full hour.  We went back for showers and went off to lunch at Kawai’s favorite restaurant, Gusto.  Kawai got a salad, Greg got a seafood pizza, and I got a pizza with goat cheese, pesto, pine nuts, arugula, and kalamata olives.  Then we headed back to Kawai and Greg’s to pick up Winston before heading into Leeds for the market where Kawai assured me we would see a ton of chavs, which are basically white trash.

            Leeds Kirkgate Market is the largest covered market in Europe.  It’s both outside and inside with stalls for fabric, baby carriages, suitcases, underwear, socks, shoe repair (where Kawai got some boots fixed), candies, hot dogs, jewelry, fish and chips, exotic fruits, watch repair, basically everything.  Kawai and Greg had promised me some chavs, so I was kind of disappointed when they didn’t really show me any.  (Our code word was to be “salami.”)  We left to look at this building that’s hundreds of years old and where traders used to sell things back in the day.  It’s been totally fancified and it’s full of shops and a restaurant now.  Afterwards, we walked down the main shopping street that was absolutely overflowing with people.  The way people were out and from the decorations, you’d think that Christmas was next weekend.  (Srsly, though.  In France they had put out the Christmas candies before I even left for my vacation.  Pure disgrace.)  Anyway, we went into some shops, including Harvey Nichols, which is on a scale of department store poshness from Primark to Harrods, just below Harrods.  It was nice but quite narrow actually.  What was really cool to me were the decorations they had put up below the escalators on the bottom floor.  It was this small triangular space that could easily go unnoticed, but Harvey Nichols had put Ken to good use:

Good to see he's finally doing something since Barbie was the one with all the jobs.  Feminism much?

We then went to Costco where Kawai and Greg stocked up on beers on ciders (for the holiday season?) and Halloween candy because Kawai was certain that they would be getting minimum 150 trick-or-treaters.  At Costco, they pointed out the first salamis of the day and then mentioned their concern for where Costco as a company was headed due to its clientele.  Overzealous, I thought.

            When we got back, Greg and I carved the two pumpkins that they had bought while Kawai started to get ready to go out since we were to be meeting up with some of their friends for an engagement party at a Mexican restaurant that Kawai had told me was as Mexican as it gets in Leeds.  Greg dressed up as an American football player to match Kawai’s cheerleader.  I was a poor excuse for a devil, but whatever.  I did my best.  We were the only three people dressed up in the restaurant.  No surprises. 

            This Mexican food was less than Mexican.  I ordered a quesadilla.  It tasted like a quesadilla I could have made in my microwave.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but srsly.  Kawai got a salad with a side of beans.  I honestly don’t know what kind of beans they were.  They were white-ish and cold.  Kawai thinks they were covered in sour cream, which is entirely possible.  All I know is that they were definitely not refried.  I looked into the kitchen to see if there were any actual Mexican people working there.  At first sight, it seemed like a no.  But, it’s possible they were mixed or I was mistaken.  Kawai agreed with me on the negative, but we considered the possibility that the lack of sun makes everyone pale.  (Be aware that I know this is all probs totes politically incorrect.  But that’s who I am.)  When we paid, there was some extra money (which rarely happens at large group dinners) so someone ordered a round of tequila shots for everyone.  It wasn’t even José. 

            We went to a bar afterwards where a few people were dressed up but nothing to write home about.  Kawai and I got some elderflower and lime ciders that I found delightful.  (Earlier, she and Greg had informed me that Strongbow is the chav cider.  OOPS.  I adore that stuff.  Put some blackcurrant syrup in some Strongbow for me and I’m a happy camper.)  Anyway, we danced and did all the normal going out stuff.  I can’t tell you how many times we heard “Ghostbusters” played.  I’m so disappointed and embarrassed to tell you that it wasn’t until after midnight that we heard “Thriller” played for the first time.  I can’t explain it.  After a bit, Kawai and I headed home to eat mountains of food and watch TV while Greg went into the city to continue the merriment.

            The next day we basically spent all day in pajamas.  Kawai and I made cornbread muffins after breakfast.  Each of us ate one and then Greg accidentally knocked all of them to the floor.  Kawai and I went to market to go food shopping.  When we got back, we had a cheese plate and salad while watching Kindergarten Cop.  Greg has a theory that putting Arnold Schwarzenegger in any movie would improve it.  An interesting hypothesis.  I suggested that we watch Addams Family Values since it celebrates Halloween while ushering us into Thanksgiving.  And so we did.  In the afternoon, I made cookies.  When the trick-or-treaters started arriving, Kawai basically stood outside and called to them to make them come to the house.  She was giving them 3 candies each and then realized there would be too many and so she and Greg went to the gas station to get some more sweets.  It was for the children, after all.  When there was a lull in the kids, we watched Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, which I hadn’t realized was the perfect movie for people with ADD.  It’s visually and aurally great.  Story-wise, probs a bit weak.  Then we enjoyed some Jersey Shore. 

            The next morning, Kawai dropped Greg and I off at the train station where I waited for my train and Greg caught his bus to work.  But before we left, I made them take this family portrait:

I got off the train in London and made my way to Goodge Street stop (central London by UCL) to meet a friend from high school who’s currently attending UCL for some lunch.  Since I was an hour early, I wandered around looking for an ATM and a market at which to buy a Crunchie bar.  Success.  But I was still about 20 minutes early and had my bag so I couldn’t just walk aimlessly.  So I went for a cup of tea at the nearby Caffè Nero.  (There’s actually 3 of them within about 2 blocks from the Goodge Street stop.  Insanity.)  So I read some of The Talented Mr. Ripley (which is memorable.  This song has layers.  Think about it.  Identity theft... "Doing the American.") and waited for Cristina to arrive.  She made it and we walked to get some grub at Eat..  It was great to see and catch up with Cristina since I hadn’t seen her since I was studying abroad.  She had actually just finished her year abroad in Lyon (she’s a French and Italian major) and she’s teaching a TEFL course right now so we had a lot to talk about. 

Around 3:30 we parted and I headed to London Bridge to meet up with Jen.  I had left a pair of jeans chez elle and she had lent me her towel.  Traded.  Then I went back to Adam’s.  When Adam and Jupe got back from lectures, we went to the market to get some food for dinner and more ingredients for cookies.  So, we came back and set to putting the kitchen into a frenzy.  We ate and watched 30 Rock until probably too late before going to bed.  Since I’d have to be out the door at 5:15 the next morning to get to London Bridge for the train to London Gatwick Airport.  (Sidenote: Gatwick has the nicest restrooms of any airport.  They have those scent sticks so it doesn’t smell like a public restroom and that has made all the difference.)

Travel out of London was easy peasy.  I landed easily in Geneva and went to the train station that’s adjoining the airport and bought a ticket to Virieu Le Grand Belley, but it wouldn’t leave until 2 pm.  It was currently 11.  So I ate a very leisurely lunch before catching my train.  I had to change trains in Ambérieu after an hour wait and so I did.  Then I got the bus from Virieu to Belley.  I was back in my room at 5:33 pm.  That’s right.  It only took me about 11 hours to get back to Belley from London. 

Naturally, the heat hadn’t been on for the entire break, so I basically froze my ass off.  I called the emergency number in the elevator to ask if they could please turn on the chauffage.  The guy on the other end of the third number that I called said, “Malheureusement, non.”  (Unfortunately, no.)  So, I sat in the kitchen with water boiling for about 2 hours before I went to bed with two pairs of socks, a hoodie, and gloves on. 

The next morning, even though I probs needed to I didn’t shower because the heat still wasn’t on.  So at 7 I dragged myself out of bed to get to school on time.  I got to the teacher’s lounge and as the bell rang, I realized that I had left my ipod in my room even though I was planning on playing a song from it for my first class.  I ran back to my room and straight to the classroom to get there about 10 minutes late.  Naturally, the room was empty.  But I don’t just mean that there weren’t any students.  I mean that there were also not any chairs or desks.  I waited about 15 minutes before heading back down to the teacher’s lounge to wait until my next class.  I tried to log into my email because over the break, they changed the internet server so I no longer have access to my email, certain blogs, online banking, purchasing train tickets, and facebook.  No dice in the main building either, so I futzed around for 40 minutes until I went to my next class.  Of course, no one showed up.  I went downstairs and ran into Sabine in the teacher’s lounge.  I was super confused because I was supposed to be meeting her students at that very moment.  So I sidled up to her and asked, “Are you not sending your students to me at this time?”  And she informed me that even though it was Wednesday, they were running the Friday schedule.  Which means that I didn’t have any work because I have Fridays off.  So I went home.

Da end.

Long-windedly,

Yessica

P.S. I hear my blog is difficult to read.  On the eyes, I mean.  Truth?  Gimmeh feedback!