The Holidays: Good-bye 2009

So, there I was, on the train to Cardiff having just said a tearful good-bye to Kevin. Elsa was funny when I said bye to her in the car. She was already upset and crying because she had to leave her grandma's house. When I told her I was leaving and that I would miss her, she turned away and gave me the hand, saying "No, no!". She has a hard time with good-byes. I was still in denial that my trip was actuially over. I found myself wishing I could stay longer and/or rewind by a few weeks and do it all again.

I arrived at my hotel at around 10:00 pm and watched a bit of TV to unwind before turning in. It was a real treat to sleep in a nice big comfortable bed after 9 weeks of sleeping on couches, floors, narrow hostel beds, in tree forts, airplane seats and on the ground. At 4:00 am, my alarm went off, after only 4 hours of sleep. Groan...time to go to the airport to catch my 6:00 flight to Amsterdam. After going through security and settling in to the waiting area I hear an announcement about a flight delay. Oh no, I think to myself, I hope it's not too long. At least I have a 5 hour wait between flights in Amsterdam so I shouldn't have a problem making my flight to Montreal. At around 7:00 am, an hour after the flight was to take off, they announce that my flight will be delayed until 1:30 pm...WHAT!!!???!!! I just about lost my will to live at that moment...I knew I would certainly miss my flight to Montreal, unless it was also delayed. For the first time in my life, I was actually wishing for a flight delay.

So, I spent the next 6 hours trying to kill time at the Cardiff airport...not the most exciting place on earth. I spent a part of it sleeping in the uncomfortable waiting area chairs in about 3 or 4 different positions so that my aches and pains would be evenly distributed throughout my body rather than being concentrated in one area. Finally at 1:45 pm, the plane took off. I landed in Amsterdam at approximately 3:30 pm, local time (2 hours after my flight to Montreal should have left). I kept repeating in my head "Please be delayed, please be delayed, please be delayed". My head didn't listen though because my flight had departed on time and I had missed it. The airport was in UTTER CHAOS: People everywhere, wandering around looking dazed and perplexed, people running to their gates, kilometre long queues for people trying to get flights after delays and cancellations had thrown them into crisis. It was like the aftermath of a natural disaster. Okay, now what??? First, call Jane (my friend who Lizanne and I stayed with at the beginning of our trip) and request another sleep over: Done! Second, get in one of several kilometre long line ups for 5 hours (no exaggeration) or get beer and use internet: Beer and internet win. Third: Get in one of the line-ups that had not diminished even after 2 hours or just go to Jane's and worry about it tomorrow: Going to Jane's wins.

So, once again, I found myself being welcomed warmly by Jon and Jane. It seemed fitting in a way that I should spent the last night of my travels at the very same place I spent the first night of my travels. The next day, I made my way to the airport and, although chaos still reigned, I boarded my flight on time and arrived in Montreal exactly 24 hours after I was originally supposed to be there. For the first few hours, the cats acted like they didn't know me but then when it was bed time, they couldn't get settled into the bed (and on top of me) quickly enough.

The very next day, I made the long bus and metro journey to my birth father's for our family Christmas. I was more than a little jet-lagged and quite tired but I managed to hang in there until around midnight when everyone went to bed. Here are couple photos of the gift opening ritual.

The tree before plunging into the presents

My sister, Helene, and her partner, Erik with the mobile I brought my nephew from Rwanda

My other sister, Julie, trying to make my nephew laugh
My nephew, Mattias
My father, Jocelyn, being goofy
Jocelyn and his wife, Esther, with the ornament I brought from Ireland
Two of my aunts, Lucette and Francine, relaxing after supper

The annual family photo

The next day, we all left for a small town just outside of Quebec City to spend a few days with extended family, i.e. aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, etc. I do not have any pictures of this, as my camera died after I managed to get one shot of the sunset, through the window, on Christmas Eve:

That night, after a delicious meal, we exchanged gifts and played games. The next morning we started Christmas Day with a mass. The priest asked me to do the first reading (in french) and, although it wasn't in my plan, I agreed. Considering it was in french and the words were far from being ordinary, everyday words (you know how the bible is), I managed to get through it with only one or two minor slips ups. After mass we had a big brunch and then I played street hockey with some of my uncles and cousins in the afternoon. Brace yourselves: This was the first time in my entire life that I had ever played hockey. I know, how is that possible, having grown up in Montreal? It was fun and a lot harder than it looks!

That evening, after a fantastic turkey dinner with all the trimmings, the Karaoke came on. My young cousin, who just finished law school, got us started by singing Eye of the Tiger...really really badly...and with a french accent. It was painful and hilarious at the same time!! I really admire his courage and his ability to laugh at himself, because he was fully aware that he can't sing to save his life. His goal, which he accomplished, was to break the ice for everyone else and make us all feel at ease by setting the bar really low! I eventually mustered up the courage to get up and sing with my aunt (I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor) and then with my cousin (You Oughtta Know by Alanis Morissette) and then with my uncle (Copacabana by Barry Manilow) and then, after a few more glasses of wine, the piece de resistance...I got up and sang Sex Bomb by Tom Jones...solo!! I'm sure you can imagine how popular that one was. After a few more gutsy performances, my cousin (yes the one who started it all) got up and sang My Heart Will Go On (Titanic song) by Celine Dion...groooooooaaaaaan...now THAT was painful. His performance pretty much put and end to Karaoke for the night...

The next day, boxing day, I spent a bit of time in Quebec City just checking out the sights and shops. I returned to find a surprise waiting at the house. The only uncle I hadn't met had arrived unexpectedly from Winsdor, Ontario to surprise everyone. We played a few more games in the afternoon, had a great supper and then sat around and chatted in the evening. The next morning, Dec. 27, we hit the road and headed back to Montreal.

All in all, despite my slight apprehension at the thought of spending 3 days in a house with a large group of people who, for the most part, I didn't know, I had a FANTASTIC time! It was such a nice way to make the transition from travelling the world to settling back into Canada. It was also good to spend quality time getting to know my family members and having fun/being silly together.

Upon my return to Montreal I spent a few days relaxing and recovering from all the celebrating and then got ready to do just a little bit more. My cousin had a fantastic new year's eve party, featuring a huge bonfire in the back yard. What a great way to welcome 2010: outside, around a fire, snow falling, champagne glass in hand.

Shannon (my cousin) and meShannon and her friend Robert

Although this blog has ended with an emphasis on holiday/family oriented experiences, it was largely a travel blog...the first (and possibly the last) blog I have ever written. Ronato and Skye were my inspiration for writing this, so thanks to both of you. It has proven to be an extremely time-consuming endeavour and, for this reason, I am not sure I will do another one on my next trip. Having said that, I am REALLY glad I did it because it served a number of important purposes: It allowed my friends and family to keep up with what I was doing on my trip and "live vicariously" through my experiences (as some have said). It provided me with an opportunity to process some of my thoughts, feelings and impressions about my experiences and to share them with the people in my life. It also kept me from having to tell all my stories over and over again, which can be exhausting. Not to mention, each time I tell a story I tend to include fewer and fewer details...so this way everyone gets the same information (including all the rich detail and photos) at roughly the same time.

Finally, I want to share an insight I had about travel. I was thinking about travelling and the various reasons people do it...why I travel...hmmmm, why do I travel? Why do I spend thousands of dollars to get on planes, go to other parts of the world, deal with the stress and inconvenience of it, expose myself to danger and disease? What is the point? The answer I came up with is: I don't just live in Victoria or Montreal or Canada. I live on this planet. The world is my home, not just the city, province or country I live in, and I want to become as intimately acquainted with my world as possible.

At this point in my life, I want to spend my time and money collecting experiences, not things... and travelling is the best way I can think of to become a hoarder of experiences! Thank you for reading this and allowing me to share my thoughts and experiences with you.

My Last Few Days in Wales

My last few days in Wales (from Dec. 16 to 20) were spent relaxing at "home" and a little bit more travelling. On Friday, Dec. 18, we all hopped on the train and went to Cardiff for the day. It is the biggest city (and the Capital) in Wales. It is a lovely city that has achieved a nice balance between the old and the more modern. It was a beautiful sunny (and extremely cold and windy) day. Rowan lost a glove on the train (which, incredibly, someone found on the train back to Carmarthen and asked Rowan if it belonged to her). Elsa lost one of Kevin's gloves while walking, and Freja didn't have gloves on because she refuses to wear them. So I was the only one with warm hands. Needless to say, a trip to the "glove store" was at the top of the agenda.


We had a really good lunch at an indian buffet restaurant and then shopped and strolled around the city...c c c c c c c cold...we also went to a mall so we could take Elsa to the Disney store. It was like walking into a bottle of Pepto Bismol and I had to run out of there after about 5 minutes. I went next door to the "store for gifts for men", where I bought a tea towel holder in the shape of a cat's rear end, for Kevin and Rowan for Christmas.







Here are a few photos of some of the buildings in Cardiff:

We ended the day at the Cardiff Winter Wonderland, where I went on the merry-go-round by myself because Elsa changed her mind at the last minute. I tried to convice Kevin to go on some of the more "daring" rides with me (like the ferris wheel you see in the background of the picture above), but no luck.

On the way back, we stopped for food at the train station before boarding the train, as the kids (and Kevin) were hungry. Here is an adorable photo of Freja enjoying her food.

The next day was my birthday and I was awoken by Elsa who whispered in my ear "Happy birfday Aunty Taffy!". What an amazing way to start the day. Incidentally, the next morning I was again awoken by Elsa who exclaimned "Aunty Taffy! I did an enormous poo!!". Out of the mouths of babes...My birthday was wonderful. I lounged in my jammies most of the day, listened to Christmas music and then we had Chinese take out for dinner. Rowan's dad and step-mom dropped by with a card and gift for me, which I found very sweet and thoughtful.

The next day, my last day in the UK, was spent at Rowan's mom's. She was throwing her annual Winter Solstice party. I met some great people, ate some delicious food and enjoyed my last few hours with loved ones. Sadly the time to leave for the train station came way too soon and I had to say good-bye. My nine and a half week trip to Africa and Europe was over...hard to believe...it went by too fast and at the same time it felt like I had been gone for an eternity. Now, back to Montreal for the holidays and beyond...

Ireland

I arrived back in Wales on Saturday, Dec. 12...sad to leave London, but very happy to see my girls!! Elsa came with Rowan to pick me up at the train station. Sunday was spent sleeping in (very unusual for me) and lounging around in my pajamas (again, highly irregular).

Kevin and I decided to go to Ireland for a day...we got on a bus at...get this...1:30 in the morning (on Monday night/Tuesday morning). Not surprisingly, there were quite a few characters on the bus. Those of you who know Kevin, can imagine how delighted he was with this. He also complained of a BO smell permeating the bus, which I couldn't smell until one particular person walked by and it hit me like a cast iron frying pan. After the complicated process of trying to figure out which seats were free (since there were already a lot of people on the bus who got out to have a break), we sat at the front thanks to a couple of very kind people who agreed to sit together so that we could sit together.

After a couple hours, the bus arrived at the ferry terminal and we were all shuffled off the bus and into a buliding to have our passports checked. We were instructed to sit down and wait. After 5 minutes or so, we were escorted back to the bus. A few minutes later, an immigration officer gets on the bus and checks a few passports...and that's it...I was confused...Why did we all get off the bus if the guy was going to come on anyways? We drove onto the ferry and then got off to go up to the passenger decks. I slept for a few hours and then it's back on the bus for another couple hours. At 10:00 am, we arrived at the bus terminal in Cork. I woke up with a start and looked at my watch. "Oh good, it's 2:00, right on schedule". Kevin looked at me funny. Clearly, I was still half asleep and disoriented. "Oh ya, it's only 10:00!" First priority: Find a place for breakfast.

After filling our bellies with nice hot food, we headed off to find Sheila's hostel, where, incidentally, both Rowan and Kevin had stayed before (but not together). After walking up a very steep hill (and way too far, as we discovered when the road ended and we realized we had passed the street), we arrived at Sheila's. This hilarious guy at the desk, named Liam, basically told us exactly what we should do and where we should go while we are in town. He put us on a very tight and highly structured schedule, drew a walking route on a map and told us which buses to take and at what time. "Yes Sir!" "Right away, Sir!"

We decided to take the walking tour through the city that Liam suggested, ultimately ending up at the old Cork Gaol (a jail which is now a museum/tourist attraction). The history was fascinating and included information about some of the political prisoners who were held there because of their resistance to British rule. Ten years or so before it closed, the jail became a women's prison. The tour ended with a very moving audio visual presentation, which featured actors depicting some of the real prisoners who were held and/or executed there. I won't get into detail, but if you want to know more about the gaol, here is a link to the website:

http://www.corkcitygaol.com/

Old abandoned building in Cork

Kevin on a bridge
Church with IRA Graffiti

The Old City Gaol

Staff at the Gaol

A cell in the Gaol

After spening a couple hours at the jail, we went off to find food. We walked for a while and eventually ended up at a nice cafe, where we had a late lunch/early supper (a lupper). Then, back to the hostel to get ready for the evening. We went to a pub where local bands were performing as a benefit to raise money for local businesses who were affected by the severe flooding that had happened in Cork a few weeks earlier. We had a great time drinking Guinness and Bulmers, while arguing about politics, sex/relationships, religion...you know the usual things you shouldn't discuss while drinking. Here are a couple self-portraits of us at the pub. Notice how, in the second picture after couple more drinks, our eyes are more glazed over and my face is redder.

The next day, Blarney Castle was on our agenda. We poured ourselves out of bed, about an hour behind (Liam's) schedule. I went downstairs to the reception desk to look at the bus schedule, relieved that Liam wasn't working (cause I had a feeling he would comment on the fact that we were getting a late start). All of a sudden, I hear this voice "You're late!". I looked up to see Liam's head peering over the shelves at the back of the reception area. I stammered something about getting in later (and more intoxicated) than expected last night and quickly added that we had a good time and we attended the benefit concert (which he had suggested). I assured him we would still have plenty of time to do the things he had planned for us, and quickly scurried off.

It was a beautiful sunny day and the grounds of the castle were lovely. I REALLY liked this place a lot! I love old castles, especially when theyt are still intact enough to go inside and walk around. Again, I won't go into too much detail, other than to say that I explored the castle and it's many tunnels and chambers, climbed the 100 steps to the top and kissed the Blarney Stone. Here is the link: http://www.blarneycastle.ie/

Building in the town of Blarney

View of the castle, as I was approaching

Looking out one of the windows
Stairs inside the castle


Me kissing the Blarney Stone

After buying a couple souvenirs in the gift shop, we hurried back to Cork to catch our bus/ferry back to Carmarthen. We eventually arrived back at Kevin's at around 2:00 am and crawled into bed. I loved Ireland and would have liked to have spent more time there. I have since found out from my aunt in Montreal that my great-grandfather on my father's side was born and raised in Cork. Maybe one day I will return there and do some research on the McCormick family. Who knows, maybe one of my ancestors worked (or lived) at the Gaol...

A week in London: Whose life is this?

I am going to write this entry in the present tense, in a stream of consciousness kind of way, in order to try to convey the essence of what I experienced and the pace at which these experiences unfolded.

I arrive at Paddington train station on Friday, Dec. 4, at approximately 3:30 pm. It is a very busy, buzzing, bustling place with people coming and going from every direction. I am somewhat overwhelmed, after 2 weeks in the desert and then a week in the quiet city of Carmarthen, being lazy and low key, hanging out with Kevin, Rowan and the girls. It takes me 10 minutes to locate the bathroom. I have to pay 50 pence to get in and there is a turnstyle. Hmmmmm...how to get my suitcase through? With a bit of struggling, hoisting, huffing and puffing, I finally manage. I freshen up and then I head back out into the station. It takes me another 10 minutes to find a counter where I can buy a tube pass for the week. Finally, I get on the tube...during rush hour...oops...forgot about that! Kevin did warn me though. After a half hour of hanging onto poles and to my bags, trying not to fall over, sweating in the hot stuffy train car and resigning myself to the fact that personal space does not exist, I arrive at my destination.


I step out of the Bond Street Station onto Oxford Street. The cool air feels good on my warm face. It is dark (about 4:30), the Christmas decorations are dazzling, it is a sea of people, activity and energy. Wow! This is AMAZING!! I am so happy to be here. Everything seems so exciting and alive! I begin walking to Jeremy's workplace but before I can get there, I see him walking towards me. I drop my bags and we greet each other with a big hug. We go for a drink at the same place we met last time I was in London: a small, crowded, noisy pub that caters to the after work crowd. Two double gin and tonics please! We sit outside because, like Victoria in the winter, you can (usually) do that in London.

Decorations near Oxford Street

Jeremy says to me "A friend of mine is having a birthday party tonight at a bar. It starts at 11:30. Wanna go?". I say "Okay, sounds great!" We meet a friend of his (Zolt) who is originally from Victoria and now lives in Leeds. We go for a delicious dinner at a Japanese place. We then head back to Jeremy's to get ready for the party, each of us pulling black suitcases of various sizes...truly a sign of the times. We have a short nap and then get dressed for the evening's festivities.

We arrive at the bar at 12:00. Our names are on "the list". I decide to check my coat. I hand it to the attendant and I wait for the ticket. After a few seconds, the attendant is looking at me as if she is waiting for something. I look down and she is holding a small rectangular shaped device with a glowing blue light. I look up at her and then back down. I look up again and I say "What's this?". She says "I need to scan your fingerprint". I'm sure my face looked like I had just been asked to hop up and down on one foot while reciting the Lord's prayer backwards. I hesitate for a second and then I tentatively place my finger on this strange futuristic device. Nothing happens: I don't explode or turn into a cyborg. I quicky scurry into the club.

It is loud. It is crowded. It is dark and filled with flashing lights of various types and colours. I weave my way through an endless river of bodies, desperately trying to get to the bar. I feel like a salmon swimming upstream. Yay - I made it!! We order 3 drinks (2 double G & Ts and an orange juice). This costs 38 pounds, roughly the equivalent of $68.00 Canadian. I almost pass out. I think to myself "I guess I'll be drinking a lot of water tonight". Then, thank goodness, Jeremy says "We don't have to buy drinks. My friend is taking care of it. Drinks will be coming to our table over there." He points to a dark corner where a group of people are gathered.

We head over there and sure enough there are bottles of champagne and mandarin vodka. Shots are distributed and glasses of champagne are filled. I look at Zolt and I say "I can see where this is heading. It's going to be an interesting night!" In goes my first shot of mandarin vodka - Delicious! I spend the rest of my time sipping champagne and drinking vodka, trying to have conversations with people over extremely loud music and flashing lights that would most certainly trigger an epileptic seizure in someone who was prone to these. Every once in a while, I go outside for a break from the mayhem that is the club, and I meet all kinds of characters and fascinating people who are interested in where I'm from and what I'm doing in London. Two young women from East London (I LOVE their accents) invite me to another club the next night, because...get this... Lady Gaga is going to be there. I ask if she is performing. "No, we heard that she is just going to be there". I explain that I probably won't be able to make it. They go on and on about how nice I look and how radiant I am and how my necklace matches my skirt , etc. They are much smaller (and younger) than me and probably have a lower alcohol tolerance level. I smile and nod and thank them for their kind words.

It's 3:00 am. I am informed that we are going to another bar. Okay! We get into a couple cabs and arrive at a different establishment...very crowded, kind of dodgy...bad energy...poor service, scantily clad women swinging from hoops suspended from the ceiling...after about a half hour, we leave. We are going to the hotel where Jeremy's friend has rented a suite. At 5:00 am, the really expensive champagne comes out. Oh yes, I can tell...it's like fairies dancing on my tongue. An hour goes by and I'm fading. Zolt and I decide to leave together. We get to bed at about 6:15. My week in London is off to a roaring start!!

I crawl out of bed at 1:30...I MUST find coffee. I stick my head under the shower, get dressed and head out to forage for food and caffeine...must find coffee. Jeremy and I have arranged to meet near his clinic. Almost exactly 24 hours later, I again find myself stepping out of the Bond Street station onto Oxford. I thought it was busy yesterday...this is bordering on chaos! The third to last Saturday before Christmas...in a major shopping district of London...The street is closed to traffic so instead of cars, there are mini human traffic jams every 3 feet. I'm tired, hung over, hungry, caffeine deprived...uh oh...my usual high tolerance for crowds and general mayhem is starting to shrink...must find food and coffee...Okay, I'm much better now...after a good breakfast and 4 coffees...Jeremy and I sit outside for a while, on the street with the blue archway decorations, watching the world go by...one of my favourite things to do when I travel.

That night we go out for a delicious dinner and then to a movie. It's going to be low key. We get to the theatre and we buy our tickets. The attendant asks us where we want to sit. I look at Jeremy for help. He explains that seats are assigned. Oh...that's interesting...I say that I'd like to sit somewhere in the middle. We decide to get popcorn. Do I want sweet or salty? Sweet???? Ummmmm...salty...with butter, please. "Oh we don't put butter on our popcorn here. That's an American thing". I am so disappointed that I almost decide not to have any, but in the end I cave in. The flavour they don't get from butter, they try to make up for with salt. My tongue was actually burned by the time I finished my popcorn.

Sunday, I sleep in and then go for brunch at this great place where I am served a delicious vegetarian version of the traditionl English breakfast. The coffee is fantastic! I hop on the tube and head to Notting Hill for the afternoon. What a great neighbourhood! I stroll up and down Portobello Road, browsing the shops and markets stalls. Jeremy is working late so I decide to go to another movie (hey, I've been deprived of pop culture for 6 weeks). Again I am asked where I would like to sit. Then I am asked if I would like to pay extra for a foot rest. I try to imagine a regular theatre seat (like we have back home and like the one I sat in the night before) with a foot rest. Where would it go? How would it fit? Are the rows extra wide? I say "No...I don't think so". I walk into the theatre and I am stunned to see that the seats are actually leather, living-room style chairs that allow you to sit back and "lounge". They are quite large and have wide arms (made of melamine) with a hole for your drink. I turn around, and at the back of the theatre I see a bar. I sidle over and I realize it is a real bar that serves alcohol. I order a glass of wine. It comes in a real glass wine glass. Wow...movie viewing in style!

Monday is a beautiful, sunny, crisp winter day. After a nice breakfast and delicious coffee, Jeremy is off to work, so I decide to do some shopping. The shops and streets are bustling. The energy is good. All the sales people are friendly. I spend too much money...

That night, Jeremy whisks me off to a very tall office building and, after putting my belongings through an x-ray machine and going through a metal detector, we take the elevator up to the 42nd floor. I step into another world: a circular wall of glass with a breathtaking view of London at night. We can see St. Paul's, The London Eye, The Tower Bridge and a myriad of twinkling lights. We are escorted to our seats and Jeremy orders strawberries and a bottle of champagne. We toast, we talk, we laugh, we chat with the French server. Uh oh, the bottle is empty. Another bottle of champagne please! A few hours later, it's time to go. We find a hotel lounge that is open late and we order a bottle of port. Mmmmmmmmm...yummy! I knock my glass over and it crashes to the floor. Oops! The old McCormick clumsiness is in full swing! A server comes scurrying over and quickly cleans up the mess...We finally decide to call it a night and hop into one of those wonderful old world, spacious London taxis!

Tuesday, we go to the British museum, where we see all kinds of ancient artifacts and interesting pieces of history. That evening there is a party to celebrate the one year anniversary of Jeremy's friend's production company. There are delectable finger foods, an open bar, great live music and a woman offering free waxing for those who want it. Too bad I just got my eyebrows done. I start talking to this guy who has never had any waxing and has just tried it for the first time. He had to stop halfway through because it was too painful. He looks at me, smirks and raises one eyebrow. Someone then points out that he looks a bit like Austin Powers and I realize "Oh my god - it's true!!" He even has a faint beauty mark above his lip and a slight overbite (but his teeth are much nicer than Austin's). He then sits down and braces himself for the next brow. He winces, curses and twitches while a few of us look on, chuckling. Later on he asks me for a light and I reply "Only if you say 'Do I make you horny?'" He does it perfectly, facial expressions and all. Later on, he entertains us with a killer "Oh behave!!" or two and a few other choice "Austinisms". What a great night - hilarious!!

It's around 12:30...I'm hungry...we go to yet another hotel lounge that is open late and, bonus, they are still serving food!! We order wine and a few finger foods...a while later we realize that a couple of men over in the corner are arguing quite loudly with very thick Scottish accents. Hmmmm...this could be interesting...I tune in and all I can hear is a lot of swear words, especially the "F" word. They are YELLING at each other...something to do with business...I think...at one point, one of them gets up and is threatening to leave. Eventually they settle down. After a while, the conflict flares up again. Yelling, swearing, verbal abuse...then a couple at the bar starts bickering, loudly.

What is going on ? There are three "couples" (6 people) in the entire place and two of them are arguing. Meanwhile, Jeremy and I are sitting quietly, sipping our drinks, laughing and having a great discussion about the meaning of life and the nature of the universe...and everyone else is arguing...weird...on our way out, we stop at the bickering Scotsmen table and I say "Be good to each other". One of them says "We are being good to each other". Then I say "Do you love each other?" Simultaneously, one of them says "yes" and the other says "no".

The next day includes a trip to the science museum and some shopping. Dinner is a fantastic indian/fusion place called the Mint Leaf, with really groovy music (partly recorded and partly live). The atmosphere is great and the service is excellent. After dinner we decide to hang out in the bar area for awhile, listening to the music, which includes an amazing conga player. When the bar closes, we go outside and end up having a brief chat with the conga player and he suggests a club we might like. He says "Ask for Idrus and tell him Basil sent you". Okay...will do...thanks...it all sounds so clandestine and mysterious!

Jeremy and me at the Mint Leaf

I used the photo editing program to make it purple

Off we go to find this club. We get to the door and they ask if we have a reservation. "No, but we were told to speak to Idrus". The door man informs us that Idrus is busy but invites us in. We sit down, we order a bottle of port, again I am just so happy in this moment. I am having an absolute blast in London and I have experienced so much in the past 5 days that it feels like I've been there for months! A while later, Jeremy introduces me to the mysterious Idrus, who Jeremy has been chatting with for the past few minutes. He is head of security at the club. It turns out he is originally from Botswana and spent some of his childhood in Nigeria. He has been in London/UK for most of his life (left Africa when he was about 8 or 9). We end up having a fascinating and really engaging conversation about "the problem of Africa" and what needs to change in order for Africa to be the continent it has needs and deserves to be. We pretty much solved all of Africa's challenges but I lost the napkin I wrote the formula on...darn!


Thursday morning, Jeremy and I go for a nice breakfast and then he delivers me to the train station. I am off to see Alison in an area of Surrey called Leatherhead. I get off the train to find Alison and Parker waiting for me. We hop in the car and then begin the procedure of picking up the other boys from school, but, wait, there is time for tea. We get some tea to go and, while waiting for Hudson, spend time chatting and filling each other in on the insanity that has been our lives in the past few months. We then pick up Spencer at a different school. The boys all like their schools, classes and classmates at least as much as back home. That's good. The concensus seems to be that school uniforms are a pain but not the end of the world. That's good. We eventually make it to their apartment and Jelly greets us enthusiastically. Alison and I decide we are going to step across the road (literally about 10 steps) to the pub for dinner, but not before I play a few games of Go Fish with Spencer and Parker. I lose all three games.

Jelly and Parker

We walk into the pub and find a cozy corner. We order nachos and beer...no sour cream though...hmmmmmm...Alison is dismayed. Are there olives, tomatoes, jalapenos and onions on the nachos? No, just cheese...hmmmmmm...Kathryn is dismayed...not like "back home" but, okay. We are soon informed that a group of men, known as Wassailers, are going to be arriving in a while and will be singing Christmas carols and holiday songs. Sounds pretty good to me - should put me in the holiday spirit. Incidentally, wassail is defined as: To revel, celebrate noisily, indulge in drinking, engage in uproarious festivities.


More and more people start to arrive and the atmosphere gets more festive and merry by the minute!! A couple more pints over here, please! I'm LOVING this...it's so much fun and in an "old world" kind of way, it feels familiar and comforting...I feel like I'm part of a community, even though I don't live there or know any of these people.

It was so great to see Alison, Rimas and the boys...it was kind of surreal that we were both in England together and that Alison lives there now, driving on the wrong side of the road, using a washing machine that also dries, saying chips instead of fries and bringing Jelly into the pub with us for lunch the next day. Dogs are permitted in some pubs, in designated areas. How cool is that? After a short and very sweet visit, Alison chauffeurs me to the train station.

Friday, Dec. 11, 4:30 pm: I step out of the Bond Street Station onto Oxford Street - exactly one week after I first arrived - the air is quite a bit cooler. It's winter! Again, I am dazzled by the lights, the activity, the people, the energy. I am so happy to be here!! I begin to walk towards Jeremy's clinic and before I can get there, I see him standing on the median, trying to blend in with the traffic light pole.

We have tickets to see Bill Bailey at the O2 arena. He is a well known, popular comedian in the UK. He is doing a stand up show involving music, and the BBC orchestra is accompanying him. I laughed for two hours straight. After the show, Jeremy suggests we take a boat back to the centre of London, along the Thames. I think it's a great idea! What a way to end my time in London!!! But wait, there's more...after a nice walk through Soho and the crowded theatre district, we take a bicycle pedicab (driven by a guy from Toronto, no less) to probably the coolest bar I've ever been to. I will let the photos speak for themselves:

Swarovsky Crystal Bathroom

Alien Pod Bathroom

Those of you who know I take photos of unusual bathrooms from around the world, will see that I hit the jackpot here. I also got a couple winners in Africa! Jeremy and I were actually given a personal tour of the facility, which had 4 levels, 5 different rooms, two separate (and very distinct) bathrooms and a number of really cool interactive art installations. For example, on one wall there was a flashing light display which, if you looked at it long enough, you would see the word "LOVE" appear. The guy who gave us the tour was quite the character! He was from Belfast and had a fantastic Irish accent. He was somewhat flamboyant in his gestures and manner of speaking...however I am not going to assume he was gay. But I will say this: He definitely took a shine to one of us, and I don't think it was me. It's 2:00 am...time to go home. My last night in London is over...nooooooooo...I don't want to go back to reality...please don't make me!!

In summary, my week in London was one of the best times I've had in recent memory (as was my time in Namibia and in many other places I've visited, but in a different way). I ate and drank way too much, slept way too little, walked about a thousand miles, spent way too much money, had so much fun that I would probably be charged with an offence (or worse) in some parts of the world and I wouldn't change one minute of it...Thanks again, Jer!