Take a Peak
As part of our campaign to Grab Life By the Horns, Aaron, Brandon and I took time off from lazing around the house and procrastinating paper writing to ramble as only the British know how.
Rambling, the ancient English art of walking around while looking lost, is huge in the area- or at least, in Peaks National Park, located one expensive bus ride (two hours) away.
The rain was spitting, the temperature entirely too cold for the end of May, but the views were amazing and the hike was atmospheric. It made me miss Decorah, Colorado, and any other overly wooded and trail-ridden place I've ever been. Scary to say, but I actually missed running- I was tempted to burst into a gallop, LOTR style and tramp across the wilderness, but something in the back of my head told me that I would have looked like a fucking idiot.
It was great to experience the nearby country as a group of three independent travelers as opposed to a Mark and Carol led crusade. We hiked a 6.5 mile loop, ventured across a 90 foot viaduct that once supported the London-Manchester Railroad, walked through dog crap, took pictures of cattle, and were called 'Lads' by an authentic Englishman. All in a day's work.
The highlights of the trip included an amazing pub, the Ashford Arms, the 5 new coasters that we were able to pilfer whilst drinking, the lady who yelled at her child "When you cry like that, Mummy gets CROSS", and the poor woman on the 2hr bus ride home who was horking (possibly the best word for vomiting) into a plastic bag in her husband's lap.
Classic.
Making it Last.
It's like the last week of high school all over again... a week of lasts. Back then, it was the Last Gym Class on a Friday, Last Test on a Wednesday Even Block Day, or Last Meal of Salisbury Steak in the Caf....
Now, it's the same concept with a drastically different locale.... Now we're bemoaning the Last Monday night meal with chicken. Last trip to Sainsbury's to help Mark shop. Last soberly enjoyed episode of Have I Got News For You. Last Wine Wednesday.
Having successfully passed the Last Final Exam, but still awaiting the arrival of enough motivation to finish the Final Paper, it's been a strange week. I'm having a hard time coming to grips with leaving, arriving, and managing to concentrate a year's experiences into a 7 page paper. The topic: "I, Traveler" is supposed to end up being a thesis-driven, focused essay on god knows what.
M/C are trying to give us a little leeway in our direction, thus continuing the theme of vague assignments this year. Brandon and Mary, while not done, are pretty set on a thesis, while so far I've only been able to assemble a sad excuse of an outline- in my case, a glorified list of jokes and topics i 'should probably cover' over the course of 7 pages....
__________
A day later...
__________
Still somewhat confused on the topic, I've strung together some 900-odd eerily sensible words that, while lucid, do not in any way form a decent essay.
The end is nigh, with our nights officially planned out for the rest of our time here, things seem a little claustrophobic. Deadlines caving in, papers due, presentations tomorrow, cleaning all day Saturday, a huge sale at HM to get to, packing my belongings into 3 suitcases (one very small, shared suitcase for extra purchases), and saying goodbye to Notts.
I'm doing my best to kind of sum up the huge amount of feelings that seem to wash in and out of the flat like tides of estrogen- I want to be able to encase and remember how I've felt about going home, leaving here, starting work again, looking towards senior year- but it's been hard to put in words. This blog is at a point where it's either reached the climax, or it's been floundering through falling action for weeks. Is the good stuff still to come, like how readjustment and re-entry go, or has it already gone?
I suppose that kind of rhetorical question can't be answered until I've successfully stepped off the plane on Tuesday.
It's looking like a Guinness Power Hour tonight, followed by frantic mid-morning paper writing and polishing before presentations and a Catered meal from MC tomorrow night.
If i'm feeling brave, the paper might have to make an appearance via the interweb.
The Slanderous Blog Post (Now Offering Real Cask Ale)
Usually associated with first-time England travelers, a fascination with funny or ironic pub names resurfaces every time we take a trip to a new part of the country... I had a list a while back of my favourites, and sadly I gave up about 25 names in.... at a point, you reach a sort of hilariousness fatigue. It just becomes commonplace. The Cock and Hoop? Sounds decent enough. Nothing fishy going on there...
Our recent trip to Southwell brought the curiosity long forgotten back to the surface. Seeing the repetition of Red Lion, White Horse, Crown, Rose, etc contrasted with the introduction of a few newbies lead me to this site, which chronicles the varying names along with some interesting facts...
Along with taking note of the Pub Names as we drove along (on the left side of the road, no less.... when I get home, I will kill at least four people by driving on the wrong side of the road... trust) We also attempted to come up with our own. Granted, it was mostly Aaron and I shouting out inappropriate inanimate objects while retaining the classic 'The' beforehand, but a few good ones were created:
- The Rotting Pheasant
- The Racist Uncle
- The Decrepit Stallion
- The Off-White Horse
- The Bloody Handkerchief
- Ye Olde Trip to the Loo
- The The Repetitious Pub Namer
- The Unflattering Birthmark
In a completely unrelated matter, I was thinking about how much I LOVED the University of Nottingham and all of it's amazing qualities.... this was after revising for exams and
facebooking my love on the walls of countless friends, both here and abroad, when I came upon this nugget of tolerance (posted on the University of Nottingham student portal, like Luther's My.Luther):
Facebook – Think before you post
There are countless ways for Nottingham students to express their views about the University, their experiences and their friends. Many of these are helpful and productive aids for learning as well as for social networking.
However, you need to be aware that anything you post (however innocently intended) on your own blog, web page or on Facebook or similar sites, may be seen as potentially defamatory or libellous.
Any statement you publish may be legally actionable. Even comments which simply contain factual inaccuracies can potentially cause loss or damage to individuals or jeopardise their safety. You may be personally liable for the consequences.
You also need to remember that you remain subject to the University’s regulations covering acceptable standards of behaviour; IT facilities usage; harassment and bullying. In the event of a serious breach of these regulations, on Facebook or elsewhere, the University will not hesitate to take action which could lead amongst other things to withdrawal of your IT access, and to a fine or suspension (or even in the most extreme case to expulsion) under the University’s Code of Discipline for Students.
So, do think carefully before posting comments about others.
Dr Paul Greatrix
Registrar
May 2007
Feeling sufficiently bullied, I'm thinking I might have to google my blog and see just how slanderous I have been...
In yet more unrelated news, if you're feeling bored, feel free to check out Google maps, which has just updated its coverage of the UK... satellite images of our flat are up and kicking....
Search Homefield Road, Nottingham, UK.... it's the big building with the yard near Alfreton Rd, across from the car dealerships... pretty cool/creepy.
May Showers....make America look better every day
Rain. Not the powerful, majestic rainstorms of a Midwestern Summer- instead, the last two days have been drenched by the cold, driving, stifling rain of an English late spring. Not easily romanticised, and thus, pushing the thoughts of America into a more positive light.
Yesterday, before a rain soaked Nottingham drove the flatmates in front of the tv for an LOTR marathon (myself antisocially unincluded... I'm not an LOTR geek, but it helps to be in the right 'mood' to be plunged into an epic battle like that of Middle Earth)... a few of us headed to a famous cathedral in nearby Southwell for some church and soup.
The rain created a very atmospheric (how's that for a euphemism) experience- the cathedral was made of a beautiful golden stone, resembling a sort of Spanish Missionary look on the inside, but all architectural positives were cancelled by a lengthy baptismal sermon involving water as a metaphor for death, and the mention of sharks more than twice...
The younger members (all of us except for MC) were dragging by the end of the service, but our fearless leaders were intent on visiting a 19th century restored poor house in the Southwell countryside. A tour around, two lucid minutes in the car before my ipod shuffle worked its hypnotic magic, and we were back in the flat.
Before leaving magical Southwell, we stopped in the Cathedral Refectory for lunch, a quick soup and roll, but the enticing qualities of dessert quickly got to Carol, who after little cajoling was intent on paying for our sweets. I should say that, having spent almost a year with M/C, it's hard to be surprised or shocked at what comes out of their mouths. Even college professors, weighed down by the endless stream of credentials following their names, can be politically incorrect and inappropriate at times- giving me great hope for the future. While enjoying my Spotted Dick (some kind of bready pudding with raisins and custard), Carol mentioned something about said Dick, a sheepish grin on her face, before very consciously waiting for a dramatic pause, and then pointing to the pudding..."Oh no, I meant your dessert...(giggle giggle)"
My reply about medication for that kind of thing was completely lost in the darting eye contact between the Notters, who could do nothing but laugh, and chalk another one up to Carol's feigned ignorance- a sly way of being hilarious without having to admit it.
I will miss them. simple as that.
Saturday was admittedly pathetic. I woke up at 1 after attempting to watch the sunrise, and spent the day napping and faux-studying for American Lit (to be taken on Tuesday). Brandon's choir sang with an orchestra, so Hil and Mary and I played the roles of Supportive Flat Mates, and took in one of the craziest clarinet performances I have ever seen. To be fair, my experience in Clarinet concerts is limited, but this chick was catatonic- writhing around, bobbing too and fro. It was comical. The choir was amazing, but we left with them as soon as interval hit. A short stop in the Kean's Head for awkward convo (if it can be considered conversation) with some of his choir buddies, and then a stop in Pit and Pendulum (Goth meets English Pub Scene) to sample two of the '7 Deadly Sins' menu before heading back to the flat.
The weekend itself began (if you can follow this kind of flashback blog... I figure, since LOST is officially done with the flashbacks, it's the least I could do...) began with a Friday night invitation from our Newsagent, Jack (ala, he sells our newspapers at a nearby store) to his Hindu temple- just a few blocks from The Lion.
The place was interesting... a temple, haphazardly set up in a rented out old factory space (perfect for those looking for the exposed wood floors, brick walls, beautiful windows, radiators...it's a retro-IKEA generation flat-hungry generation's wet dream) The people were overly friendly, eager to tell how they built every piece of the building from their own hands, and eager to tell us (the official count was close to 15 times) that there was a huge Hindu temple in Chicago...Have We Visited It? No, no we haven't... but we would love to... later...
They gave us food, websites for their sect, and 10 minutes of concentrated theological chatter from the old man who actually started the branch in Nottingham. The amazingly tolerant views of Hinduism was shocking, considering the conflict in India, Pakistan, etc, but he laid a few beautiful metaphors on us that really stuck.... For him, trying to secularize and separate religion was crazy- the Hindus don't work like the missionaries of other faiths- they realize that you have your faith, and they have theirs- the same way that everyone thinks their parents are the best, the Hindus know that they won't convince you to switch from Christianity to Hinduism... it's how you were raised, to believe your God is best... Be a good Christan, and that's good enough for this guy...
Needless to say, we (Mark, Carol, Brandon, Kate, Hil and I) got in a huge theological discussion on the way home... Mark was close to becoming a monk at one point, and actually has a few brothers who are... throw in the fact that Carol's father was a bishop, and their huge background in academics, and you've got some well read people hashing it out.
I won't elaborate, because it's a lot to digest, but I would love the chance to talk to them more about this kind of thing- are people born with a sense of spirituality that is honed by their religious affiliation, or are their concepts of spirituality channeled and tuned by an early exposure to a very specific and detailed religion? Freud has his own opinion- the need for a greater being due to postpartum feelings on behalf of the child, but that's another branch of discussion. Plus, it's hip to hate on Freud these days...
It speaks volumes for M/C that they treat us like intellectual equals, even at times when it's clear they have the upper hand in experience and background knowledge. The same happened in their class- I just hope I can at some point have the same toleration of less informed ideas when I'm teaching... not to knock my own understanding, but with 40 years on me, I figure they know what they're talking about...
my fingers are tired. time to study.
Rambling, the ancient English art of walking around while looking lost, is huge in the area- or at least, in Peaks National Park, located one expensive bus ride (two hours) away.
It was great to experience the nearby country as a group of three independent travelers as opposed to a Mark and Carol led crusade. We hiked a 6.5 mile loop, ventured across a 90 foot viaduct that once supported the London-Manchester Railroad, walked through dog crap, took pictures of cattle, and were called 'Lads' by an authentic Englishman. All in a day's work.
The highlights of the trip included an amazing pub, the Ashford Arms, the 5 new coasters that we were able to pilfer whilst drinking, the lady who yelled at her child "When you cry like that, Mummy gets CROSS", and the poor woman on the 2hr bus ride home who was horking (possibly the best word for vomiting) into a plastic bag in her husband's lap.
