Four Days of Drinking Sangria and Eating Tapas

As a last hurrah before heading back home I took a brief trip to Spain this past weekend. This had a nice sense of symmetry for me since my first trip outside of North America was to Spain when I was eleven. A pretty excellent note to end my year in Europe.

I spent a day in Madrid and two and a half days in a small (and gorgeous) town southwest of Madrid called Trujillo. The weather was super hot and sunny the entire time which allowed me to get one last taste of summer with some pool time and lots of hanging out in the shade and drinking cold beer. In fact, the majority of my trip involved drinking or eating, usually both. Basically, I'm obsessed with tapas. I mean, you order a drink (very cheap in Trujillo) and they just give you food. And I'm not just talking crisps or peanuts. I'm talking things like fried cuttlefish, pork in tomato sauce, and mini sandwiches of deliciousness. It's fantastic. Why don't we do this in the States? Seriously, someone get on making this happen.

In addition to the free food, there was much awesomeness to be had in actual meals as well. I'll just rattle off some examples here (non-foodies, feel free to skip ahead): cold melon soup with jamon iberico, churros, lots of grilled octopus, sea urchin, blood sausage on a baguette with caramelized onions, raw oysters, foie gras, chorizo, homemade fried sardines and empanadas, and excessive amounts of jamon iberico. I don't think I went more than one waking hour without eating. Plus there's the oddness of Spanish mealtimes--dinner starts around ten. It's kind of great, but also kind of exhausting. There were children out playing in the square at 1 AM and this is totally normal. I went to a club one night and it was just getting busy when I crawled home at 3:30 in the morning. I could get on board with the whole siesta thing though.

Outside of the whole culinary angle, Spain is a really interesting place. I didn't spend much time in Madrid but I enjoyed the Reina Sofia museum (some Dali, some Picasso, some Goya--no big deal) and I enjoyed wandering and finding cool neighbourhoods--the area near the university has some really cool little shops. When I travel, though, I almost always prefer to see the places that are more off the beaten track, like Trujillo. It's actually a pretty significant place; it has an impressive 10th-century castle and lots of well-preserved old fortresses and it was the birthplace of Pizarro. The town itself is on a hill so there are some amazing views of the surrounding countryside. It's got a great small-town vibe and I wish I spoke Spanish so I could have interacted more with the locals, some of whom were pretty interesting characters--like the bartender who looked a bit like a hobbit and insisted on refilling our drinks when we weren't looking and not charging us.

All in all, it was a highly enjoyable couple of days spent trying to deal with the intense heat beating down by walking very slowly through the town and stopping often for drinks. The in-ground pool overlooking the plains didn't hurt either. A lovely, leisurely end to my time in Europe (before the madness of packing that has consumed this week).

Love Letter to London (Alternative Title: I don't want to leave and you can't make me)

My time in London is, very sadly, nearing its end. I would love to stay but I currently don't have any job prospects here and as my lease is ending, staying doesn't make much sense. Sure, I could find a random job, but if I can get a position in my field back in the U.S. more easily, that is the grown-up decision I must make. And, on the positive side, it will be really nice to see my family and friends (I can't believe that I haven't been back to the States for almost nine months).

I will, however, desperately miss London. I find it difficult to explain when people ask me why I like this city so much. And I certainly don't disagree when people point out the negative things about London. But there is just something about it. Just the atmosphere, the feel of London. It's not for everyone, and that's cool. But for me, it has been pretty fantastic. I love the rain, and how September actually feels like fall, not the weird bipolar situation we have back in Rhode Island. I love walking the streets at Christmastime, with lights everywhere (and yes, picturing scenes from Love Actually). Sitting in the grass in the parks on those rare, wonderful summer days. I love the buskers playing music everywhere, sometimes brilliantly and sometimes not so good. I love the graffiti. I love the views in any weather while crossing Waterloo Bridge--Parliament, Big Ben, and the London Eye on one side, the Gherkin, St. Paul's, and the City on the other. I love the pubs and the old cobbled alleys hidden among the busy, modern streets. I love riding on the top level of double-decker buses. I love the bizarre people you see on the tube. I love the grand architecture of the buildings. I love the feeling that the Thames gives--like it's the city's pulse and the source of it all. And I love that I can feel thousands of years of history flowing by me just by taking a walk.

As much as I enjoy waxing poetic and probably sounding pretty pretentious, one of my favourite quotes about London comes from the brilliant Neil Gaiman. Fittingly, I first discovered him while here in London. As he writes in his book Neverwhere:

Three years in London had not changed Richard, although it had changed the way he perceived the city. Richard had originally imagined London as a gray city, even a black city, from pictures he had seen, and he was surprised to find it filled with color. It was a city of red brick and white stone, red buses and large black taxis, bright red mailboxes and green grassy parks and cemeteries.

It was a city in which the very old and the awkwardly new jostled each other, not uncomfortably, but without respect; a city of shops and offices and restaurants and homes, of parks and churches, of ignored monuments and remarkably unpalatial palaces; a city of hundreds of districts with strange names - Crouch End, Chalk Farm, Earl's Court, Marble Arch - and oddly distinct identities; a noisy, dirty, cheerful, troubled city, which fed on tourists, needed them as it despised them, in which the average speed of transportation through the city had not increased in three hundred years, following five hundred years of fitful road-widening and unskillful compromises between the needs of traffic, whether horse-drawn, or, more recently, motorized, and the need of pedestrians; a city inhabited by and teeming with people of every color and manner and kind.

This, in my humble opinion, describes London perfectly. It isn't sugarcoated. He doesn't gloss over the curious, confusing, and sometimes irritating aspects of the city, but it perfectly encapsulates the feeling of it. At the end of a year in this amazing, frustrating, ridiculous place, I would like to thank London for one of the craziest, best years of my life.


Ok, overly-sentimental post done.

Castles, Haggis, and Scotch

As my dissertation, and therefore my Master's degree, is now done and dusted, I felt the need to reward myself with a little mini-vacation to Edinburgh. I had heard from lots of people that it's a really cool city and I was not disappointed. I stayed at this enormous hostel right beneath the castle in a really old stone building. Lots of great social areas (key when staying in hostels), the highlight being the room with the record player and tons of old albums. My favourite was a collection of 'Bawdy Sing-alongs' from the 50s that I discovered with a group of people one night and that we proceeded to play on repeat and sing along to (obviously). Seriously, look up Oscar Brand's Bawdy Songs--it's brilliant, and only mildly disturbing.

This trip really solidified my deep and abiding love for hostels. I met new people from all over the world every night and it's just such an awesome atmosphere. It makes me quite sad that the U.S. lacks this whole hostel culture. I've never had a bad experience at a hostel and there's something just really fantastic about having a network of people from all over the world that you've bonded with.

Edinburgh itself was also great. It's already started to get cool up there and since I love autumn it was pretty much perfect. For the most part I just wandered the city--I was staying in the Old Town and there are tons of great little cobblestone alleys, old buildings, and cemeteries. Slightly morbid on that last one, but got some great photos (and saw Tom Riddell's grave, the one that inspired J.K. Rowling, for you fellow Harry Potter nerds). Of course I toured the castle (and saw fireworks set off over it one night) and climbed Arthur's Seat which was a great little hike and had unbelievable views. I was pretty out of breath by the time I reached the top, but then I felt completely put to shame by the 60-year-old men who I then saw literally sprinting up and down. Respect.

Other highlights of Edinburgh were, obviously, the food and drink. I had my fair share of haggis which was really good (but I'm probably not to be trusted on this one because I'll eat some pretty weird stuff). And then one night I treated myself to a mildly fancy dinner of mussels, fresh French bread, and an old-fashioned. Congratulations to me. Then, of course, there was the Scotch. Don't ask me all the different kinds I tried. I do remember that my favourite was called Kilchoman--a nice peaty Islay. It was further enhanced by the fact that I drank it while listening to traditional Scottish music in a pub with a bunch of awesome people. While we're on the topic of alcohol (I seem to get on this topic rather often), the beer in Scotland is also not too shabby. I enjoyed quite a few pints in little pubs. There is also a great brewery called Brewdog that also has a bar and some wicked good beer.

One of my other favourite discoveries was a little record/coffee shop right near Grassmarket. They play some great music and have fantastic coffee (mocha with chili-flavoured chocolate? yes, please). Just a great place to chill. Plus I found a copy of True Romance for £5--if you haven't seen this film, please do so immediately (it's not really as the title suggests). Another great spot was the Stockbridge Market where I found delicious craft beers that were aged in bourbon and rum barrels (Eden Brewery) and a bakery that made a pear, fennel, blue cheese, and candied walnut tart. Pretty damn good breakfast.

Moral of the story: Edinburgh (and Scotland in general) are awesome. And I'm going to continue to be in denial over the fact that I will likely be leaving the UK soon.

Yes, London is still brilliant

I can hardly believe it, but it has now been almost a year that I've been living in London. And I still love it. Although I do feel a little bit of wanderlust kicking in and I would be totally open to moving somewhere else for a job, I really still love living in London and I know I'll miss it if/when I leave.

The last few weeks have been pretty full of dissertation writing/editing/obsessing/mild panicking, but I've been able to do a few fun things around the city. I mean, it is the summer--I can't be expected to forego fun altogether.

A couple of weekends ago there was a fantastic (and free) jazz festival in Canary Wharf. I tagged along with my flatmate on two of the nights it was happening. It was in this little park in the middle of all the swanky high-rise office buildings, so it was a pretty cool setting. And the music was brilliant. The first night had a band that was kind of a mix between jazz and hip-hop with the frontman rapping on half the songs and playing the sax on the others. The second night was even better with a huge Cuban band who were just incredible. The frontman for this one played electric violin and sang and he was crazy good. So we chilled, jammed, and drank wine in the park. Not a bad way to spend a summer night.

Last weekend I went out to a super cool speakeasy-style bar with a friend of mine--you have to know the address and ring the bell to get in and it's set up like the office of a private investigator. It's called the Evans & Peel Detective Agency. The best part is that you have to make an 'appointment' and give them a case. When you get there, the receptionist does a little acting and asks you about your case before you're ushered through the door behind the bookcase to the bar. Theatrics aside, the drinks are fabulous and, while I didn't eat, their food menu looks pretty phenomenal as well. I had an amazing cocktail called the Rick's Cafe Americain which is a twist on an old-fashioned with 12yo bourbon, espresso bitters, and a spice-scented glass. Definitely my cup of tea.

So those are the highlights of my last couple of weeks. I should have some more stories of interest after this weekend as I'm off to explore Edinburgh and celebrate handing in my dissertation (sweet, sweet freedom...well, until I have to get one of those job things). Till then, stay classy and drink good whisky.

Pretending to be Posh

Two weeks ago I hit the halfway mark in my dissertation and then I had a visit from my mom so that provided the perfect opportunity for me to take a break from researching and writing and do some fun stuff around London and take a little mini-break to Ireland.

Thanks to my mom and some brilliant internet deals I had the chance to do some stuff that made me feel super posh. Mainly, this was due to our stay at the Royal Horseguards Hotel (just try saying that without putting on a pretentious British accent). I felt a bit out of place arriving in my holey Converses and backpack but this ceased to bother me when I discovered our room had a heated bathroom floor and a TV in the shower. Yes, that's right, in...the...shower. If that wasn't enough to make me lose my mind I later found out that the floor we were on was used as the British Secret Service's headquarters during WWI. So, you know, it's basically like sleeping where the real-life James Bonds hung out. It was also frequented by Winston Churchill and he commanded operations from there during WWII. A fact I appreciated even more while having the drink named after him in their bar. It consisted of tobacco-infused bourbon, Scotch, tobacco syrup, and bitters. Big fan. The moral of the story is that I got really spoiled for three days and then had to return to my previously fine, but now slightly depressing flat.

Also during this week I finally made it over to Harrod's which, again, made me feel posh as I pretended that I could afford anything they sell there. The food halls were my favourite (unsurprisingly) and we did splurge and have a glass of wine and buy some fantastic salami and cheeses. Then we just stared longingly at the shoes and purses.

A similarly exciting outing was to the bar at the top of Heron Tower. I've been dying to go there and it did not disappoint. Great drinks and an unbelievable view. Plus the bartender gave us some free drinks and who doesn't get excited about that? I thoroughly enjoyed their posh twist on a Jack and Coke which came in its own flask.

The rest of the week was somewhat less fancy. We went to an awesome blues bar in Soho called Ain't Nothin' But... which is tiny, crowded, a little dirty and has great music--everything a blues bar should be. And I can't forget our little side-trip to Ireland. Instead of the typical Dublin excursion, we went to Limerick which was a pretty little city. We explored 12th century churches, villages with thatched-roof houses, King John's Castle, the Burren (a hilly, coastal region with ancient rock formations), the Saturday-morning market, and a pub or two. I loved seeing the castles and old buildings (again, history nerd) and of course I enjoyed drinking Guinness and Irish whiskey while listening to traditional Irish music. The countryside in the Burren was incredible and it was quite nice to be on the ocean again, particularly being a Rhode Island girl. It wasn't nearly enough time to spend in Ireland and I would love to get over to Dublin, but for now, a second trip to Belfast will have to do.

Summertime in the UK Part II: Isle of Skye, Scotland

After the England adventures from my last post I trekked out to the Isle of Skye for a few days. (And trekked is definitely the right term since it took around 17 hours to get out there.) It was definitely a retreat...Google Maps couldn't even find me. But Skye certainly lived up to the high praise I had heard about it.

Over two days I hiked or walked well over 20 miles (in future, a car might be advisable). It was rather...let's say...interesting, walking on the curvy, single-lane roads but there were some adventures as a result. One was the incident involving a cow loose on the road which we assisted in herding back into its field with much difficulty. Lesson one from Scotland:  cows are stubborn and will screw with you if given the opportunity.

I also hitchhiked for the first time. Most of the time it wasn't necessary because so many people from the hostel would offer us rides. The level of friendliness kind of took me aback since I'm now used to the gruff indifference of Londoners. But the hitchhiking was not as terrifying as expected, except for the actual driving part which involves, as I mentioned, one-lane roads that require those driving to swerve onto designated pull-off areas when they spot a car coming. Not the most calming experience.

I could go on for ages about how gorgeous the scenery there is, but I really couldn't do it justice. Massive rocky mountains shrouded in mist, green hills, lochs opening to the ocean, wildflowers. Just absurdly pretty. I'll just post some photos at the end to get the point across. Given this awesome scenery, the hiking was fantastic. I didn't 'bag any munros' as they say, but I did hike through the valley of one of the mountain ranges where there was a stream with a collection of 'fairy pools' and waterfalls. A bit chilly but I still wished I had brought a bathing suit.

One of the biggest highlights other than the scenery was the hostel we stayed at because the owners were just so unbelievably nice. (Plus they had the best Scottish accents.) And there was a bonfire on the hill overlooking the loch every night. Lesson two from Scotland:  the people are fantastic. And if you get up to the Isle of Skye I highly recommend the Croft Bunkhouse.

Last but not least:  the Scotch. I mean, you can't go to Scotland and not have Scotch. Lucky for me the Talisker distillery (the only distillery on Skye) was only three miles from the hostel. And you can be damn sure I walked the three miles for that. And of course I took back a little souvenir as well. Plus, we made some friends at the hostel later and they so nicely shared some Jura Scotch with me. Lesson three from Scotland:  it's great to make friends, and it's even better if they're Scotch drinkers.

So, does anyone want to move up to Skye with me and work as a hiking guide/cow herder/Scotch sampler? This is my new postgraduate plan.

Summertime in the UK Part I: England

I haven't posted much recently because the majority of my summer has seen me spending long days at the library reading endless literature on identity, political violence, and Northern Ireland. Exciting, I know. But I have been lucky enough to take a little time off recently for fun stuff. I just returned from a trip up to Scotland, which I will write about in my next post, but for now, here are some highlights of the past few weeks.

I was finally able to see a performance at the Globe Theatre and it was well worth the wait. Not only was their production of Macbeth fabulous in itself, but I was super surprised and excited when I saw that Billy Boyd (aka Pippin from Lord of the Rings) was playing the part of Banquo. I had a nerd moment. Standing for two and a half hours in the heat watching the show was worth it for that.

The day after the Globe I attended a quite different type of show. It was an all-day concert/festival put on by Mumford & Sons featuring them (of course), Vampire Weekend, Ben Howard, and Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. It was an absolutely incredible show and Mumford & Sons gives one of the best live performances I've ever seen. Who knew banjos could be so badass? They ended the show by bringing everyone back on stage and performing a cover of 'The Chain' by Fleetwood Mac. Epic. I also greatly enjoyed the shenanigans by some of the people in the crowd, mainly when one guy after another decided to climb one of the festival flagpoles, each of them becoming progressively less-clothed. The final one was entirely naked and then the pole proceeded to tip over. Not good. But he seemed to be alright. Other than the fact that a huge crowd had just witnessed him fall off a flagpole completely nude.

Another highlight of the past weeks, although not quite as exciting, was a Jack the Ripper walking tour. Morbid? Yes. More than a little disturbing? Yup. But really interesting and pretty awesome? Definitely. It was really fascinating to walk around parts of London that I knew and learn not only the gruesome details of certain areas, but also what they were like in general during that time. Plus I now know the location of the pub where Jack and his victims hung out (which is still operating).

Recently I was also able to get out of London for a day trip to Bath and Stonehenge. Bath was very pretty and a nice mini-escape from the city. But the highlight of that trip was stumbling upon a funky little reggae bar with great (water buffalo!) burgers. And because I'm a bit of a huge history nerd, Stonehenge was just awesome, in the true sense of the word.

Well that's it for now. A pretty eventful couple of weeks. And now it's back to the books for a bit. Scotland post to come soon.