Castle-d out (aka Wales Part II)

Caernarfon Castle in Northern Wales

Chris and I have been to four castles together so far in our 2 months of living in England. That may not seem like a lot but let me tell you – it is – and we are castle-d out! Chris’ parents just recently visited and Chris took them to Windsor Castle – his fifth castle in two months! Too many castles!

Our first castle visit to Hampton Court was by far our most enjoyable castle excursion so far. (It may or may not have benefited from being the first – see my description of our trip there and decide for yourself!) However, on our recent trip to Northern Wales we went to Caernarfon Castle and it was pretty darn cool. Like really, really I wish I had been taken there when I was little and it was still socially acceptable for me to run in public, because I would have run through every stone corridor and up and down every steeply spiraling staircase up to every turret, and then all the way around the battlements.

Learn from my mistake and wear appropriate footwear - stylish flats just won't do.

This was a medieval marvel. No fancy fabrics and furnishings, just stone, and iron chains, and an impressive impenetrability despite the disrepair. (Although the Welsh villagers did manage to burn the castle of their English oppressors down on at least one occasion.)

Caernarfon was built by Edward I in the early 13^th century as part of many castles and forts built in Northern Wales to suppress uprisings in the newly acquired territory. Edward I was a crusader and spent many years fighting in Europe and the Middle East so his castles were inspired by those he had seen on his travels.

The only drawback to this castle was the lack of information about the history of the castle and the area. There was only one room dedicated to dolling out historical information about the castle - and no general historical information at all. This is in stark contrast with all other castles we've visited, all of which have had more than ample educational information available everywhere. However, the one room was a nice summary of the castle's history and besides, wandering around on top of the stone walls and turrets, and roaming the dark, dank stone corridors and towers is much more fun than reading anyway.

Llandudno

Drumroll please…. I herewith present the record of our trip to Northern Wales!!

Come on – I know you’ve been dying with anticipation, and I surely have kept you waiting long enough! It’s been a week and a day since we got back. Computer issues, sickness, you’d think I were writing an excuse to an English teacher on why a paper was late (Mr. Wilson, Mrs. Feinberg, et al do you see now? These excuses are/were real!)

Ahem.

Anyway.

Northern Wales trip – Part I

We picked up our rental car from Waterloo early Friday morning. It was a bright, clear, summer-like day – perfect for a drive through English countryside. We hit no traffic, driving on the wrong side of the road was a breeze (well a breeze for me because I was in the passenger seat – but Chris had no issues), and the rest stops on the highway were immaculate. But a word to the wise – stick to American chains, the fries at the British knock-off of McDonalds were terrible! And the chicken nuggets were actually made with real chicken! (Which really isn’t as good as it may sound – there’s a reason McDonalds inserts all that bread into the chicken pulp.)

So, we arrived at Llandudno safe, sound and happy. Llandudno – according to my guidebook – is a chic Victorian sea-side resort. According to me, it occupies a stunning spot on a beautiful rocky coastline nestled between green and rolling hills, but the town itself has little to offer except a disgusting array of fish and chips. (Disgusting, in that, that is all anyone was eating anywhere. I can only look at a certain amount of fried-food consumption per day – seeing it consumed everywhere at all hours is disconcerting to my stomach.)

But coming from London, it was lovely to be on the seashore, even if the accompanying town lacked the charm I had expected from the (deceiving!) guidebook. The walk along the boardwalk was stunningly, movie-like beautiful even in the evening rain, and the kaleidoscope rocks that made up the beach made walking along the water like walking along a mineral rainbow.

We also went for a short trek up the adjoining hillside and saw a bunny and some spectacular views.

Our very own, private Easter bunny!

Just a short walk up the hillside found us on the edge of the world.

If I were to go to this part of Wales again I would pick a less touristy town and rent my own cottage– so as to enjoy the jaw-dropping scenery and fresh sea air while escaping the crowds and the bad food.

The next morning we went to a castle – to be continued tomorrow!

Homesick and Seasick

Okay, okay. I have been gone for a long while. But I have excuses! I had the world’s worst sore throat all last week. And this week I have had stomach flu type nausea. I might as well be below deck on a sailboat in a stormy sea.

What’s the normal prescription for a sour stomach?

Why… saltines and ginger ale – duh!

Do grocery stores in England have saltines and ginger ale?

??

NOOOOOOOOOO, they do not.

And so I am left sprinkling salt onto “cream biscuits” – a very sorry substitute indeed.

So, as you see, I will return to regular postings in a little while. As soon as I feel well enough to jog over to the grocery store in St Johns Wood that imports saltines and ginger ale (and oreos, and triscuits, and other delicious Americana) all for a reasonable five times price uptick – hah. It will be by far the most expensive processed food I have ever bought, but it will be so worth it.

Pictures and stories from our trip to Northern Wales last weekend will be uploaded and told after I procure saltines and ginger ale. A girl can only do so much when so under the weather.

Feed the Birds – tuppence a bag

Are you singing along in your head after just reading that title? Doesn’t it invoke wonderful visions of Julie Andrews with her perfectly coifed hair singing both mournfully and hopefully? And that sweet little old lady selling bread crumbs for delighted little children to sprinkle to the hungry little birds – isn’t that such a lovely picture?

Well, no, it is not!

Here in England people are OBSESSED with feeding the birds. Mostly pigeons, but also swans, ducks, herons (as mentioned in a previous post) and any other kind of creature possessed of wings. It is so VERY FAR removed from the precious little picture painted by the Mary Poppins song as to be diametrically opposed. There is nothing more disgusting than watching people (all manners of people – both British and tourists) throwing whole slices of processed white bread (what happened to the crumbs?) to hoards of pigeons.

Newsflash people- PIGEONS ARE VERMIN! That wasn’t my phrasing actually, we saw that written on signs along the waterfront of Richmond Upon Thames, where – guess what? – people were throwing bread to pigeons. And not only are pigeons vermin – but they also attract vermin. There is nothing a poor hungry rat likes better than some leftover pieces of over processed bread.

Does this state of affairs exist all throughout London? At every park? Now Hyde Park is really a wonderful park. It is grand on a truly royal scale - with lots of open green spaces, stately old trees, a monument to Princess Diana, and a big lake which you can row upon. Hyde Park borders the most fashionable parts of London; it is elegant and beautiful. A stroll there affords you photo-shots of nature such as this:

Am I really in the middle of a city?

Surely, at Hyde Park there is none of this tossing-of-whole-bread-slices to birds business.

Well, lo and behold – it is a blight on the landscape here as in any other park in London.

I originally took the above picture to show how every member of society – including those clothed in burkas – take part in this disgusting habit. However, recently I’ve noticed that more people of seeming Middle Eastern descent, and particularly women, tend to perpetuate this habit that is as unsightly to me as it is unhealthy for the poor birds. I don’t know what to make of this observation, except that perhaps, it is their signaling to the world that they are well-off? In a poor country to give food to a bird that you aren’t planning to eat would be seen either as folly or as a sign that you are so wealthy you can throw your money away. Or perhaps the burka-bound woman in my picture had a more primal desire to interact with things cute and feathered. I have often felt a kinship with wild animals – my cultural prejudice against the pigeon cannot prevent me from seeing how she could garner some inner calm from doing them what she thinks is a favor.

But really, can we just stop throwing bread to the pigeons people?

Playing Travel Agent

And why have I not posted anything since last Friday? It’s because I’ve been playing that all-consuming, maddening game called let’s be our own internet travel agent.

I started off on Monday with great success. I booked Easy Jet tickets to Porto, Portugal for one week in the end of July for our one-year anniversary. Success!

But then I started to plan our long Easter weekend in Wales. There’s a bank holiday on Good Friday, and one on Easter Monday too – which means a nice four-day long break that involves no taking days off work for Chris – perfect! What could be simpler than planning a long weekend in Wales, right? Right?

Because it’s taken me more than four days and I still have yet to book anything, I hereby pronounce that all further long weekends and vacations booked by me will involve nothing other than a phone and a guidebook. Because clearly, I am paralyzed by the choice afforded by endless internet searches.

What happens is, I go to Trip Advisor, find the best ranked hotels and b&bs for our price range, and then debate between the top few picks (are there pubs within walking distance? is there parking? is it too touristy? yadayadayada) for so long that the rooms are no longer available, and then I have to start the review process all over again. I think this is the reason that Chris booked our honeymoon…. Actually, I know this is the reason.

But my indecisive self has come up with an (obviously) indefinite and still yet to be booked plan:

Friday

9am – pick up rental car in Waterloo (Chris booked this! Yay for decisive action!)

12pm – stop for lunch in some quaint town west of Birmingham (or MacDonald’s – because hey, they use 100% British beef so it’s kind of authentic)

1-4pm – see Conwy Castle

4pm – check into this B&B or this one in Llandundo (seaside resort town north of Snowdonia National Park - don't ask me to pronounce it though!)

5pm - explore beachfront

7pm – dinner

Saturday

Enjoy a Welsh breakfast (which from the description seems identical to an English breakfast - clearly nothing served in Wales can be tainted with the word "English")

Check out

Hike Snowdon Mt!!!

See Caernarfon Castle if there is time

Check in at this cute little B&B, or this one, in the southern part of Snowdonia National Park

Sunday

Church and 4 mile walk around the Mawddach Estuary

Barmouth Beach in the afternoon

photo credit

Monday

Mountain biking in the am for Chris

Check out of cute little B&B

Find something cool to see en route back to London! (maybe Tintern Abbey or somewhere else ancient and castle-y in Southern Wales?)

If you have any suggestions for my very hesitant self - please post a comment below!

FoodGloriousFoodFridays

7 reasons why I heart British grocery stores

1. Ode to Tropicana juices sold on the British Isles: Oh Florida orange juice, when I first arrived here I mistakenly bought our regular plain orange juice and bemoaned the clearly inferior orange taste. But behold! Here in Britain, you are not content to appear garbed purely in orange! Orange and passionfruit! Orange and lime! Orange and watermelon! Orange and raspberry! Orange and pineapple! Orange and mango! All freshly-squeezed! All delicious! Now if only you came in something other than a midget-sized 1-litre container….

2. Speaking of juices. I heart apple and elderflower juice. Brits love and consume their apple juice in proportion to how Americans love and consume their orange juice. (Although I still haven’t seen a container of anything here – not even beer - that is as big as those jumbo orange juice bottles back home.) The apple juice is always cloudy and so scrumptious – no triple-filtered, triple -pasteurized, sugar-water here! – and it is especially scrumptious with the added elderflower juice. Elderflower is SO good. Tart and indescribable and you MUST try and find some at your local fancy grocery store because it is one of these things that I know I will pine for if/when we move back to the States!

3. Fruits and Veggies. To everyone that warned me that I would be disappointed in the leafy green department – I am so glad to inform you that you were so very wrong! The fruit and veg here is of superior quality and variety and value than what I was used to back home. 4 passion fruit for 1 pound? And a container of absolutely PERFECT strawberries for 1.50? They also package berries only in one layer, with a thin strip of bubble wrap on the bottom so the berries don’t get bruised and ruined. I obviously can't speak for grocery stores in the rest of England, but fruit&veg here in the capital rocks.

4. Pasteurization. Everything here, from juices to cheese to milk, is single pasteurized. I don’t know if everyone is aware of this, but everything in the states is usually triple pasteurized – aka destroyed of flavor and goodness but capable of staying fresh for an (unnaturally) long time.

5. Milk. Because of the above single-pasteurization the milk here tastes SO MUCH BETTER!! Not kidding at all. It is SO good. The only drawback is that it goes sour SO quickly. You have to consume within 3 days of opening it. If I didn’t live 2 minutes from the grocery store I might find this a drawback – but seriously – when you come visit us – have a glass of cow nectar!

6. French cheeses. Again with the pasteurization. You can buy raw milk cheeses of all varieties in the ho-hum pedestrian super market! You can buy every imaginable type of French cheese – pasteurized or not. And they are inexpensive. And delicious. And it is so lovely.

7. Bonne Maman brand chocolate mousse and crème caramel cups. You know the French brand that makes those pretty darn good (but pricey) jams and fruit spreads available in the US? Well it’s too bad we don’t live closer to France, because I’m pretty sure they would export (and we would happily devour) their refrigerated desserts to us too if they could. The chocolate mousse is airy and rich at the same time, so chocolate-y and divine. It tastes like a million bucks, but only cost a few pennies per serving. If only you could scoop it out into pretty glass dishes and claim creator-ship without mussing up the texture. You can, however, pretend to have made the crème caramels. Invert those bad boys over a pretty plate and pretend you’re in a posh French brasserie. Ahhh, c’est merveilleux!

Bon weekend a tous!

Here Comes the Sun

Yesterday I spent a blissful & beautiful day with my friend J. We met at the London Fields Lido (what? Don’t speak British? Lido = public outdoor swimming pool) and went for a nice long (kind of long, in a shortish way) swim. Then we sunbathed poolside next to some very cute babies for an hour or so.

During said sunbathing, I admonished J for not planning on bringing anything higher than SPF 30 on her upcoming trip to the Caribbean. I went on and on about how she needed SPF 50, AT LEAST (I mean I make Chris slather on SPF 70!) and she kindly withstood my barrage of advice. (“I mean, do you know how horrible sun stroke is? Blah, blah blah-di-blah,” harps Calamity Jane.)

After that we went for a nice vegan lunch at a restaurant run by hemp-wearing hippies who all volunteer their time. Damn hippies. Food’s great though. Anyway, we ate our tofu & bulgur burgers with avocado and jalapenos on the sidewalk in the BRIGHT AND BRILLANT SUNSHINE – it was GLORIOUS!

And then I prepared a picnic dinner for Chris and I to enjoy in the fading twilight of Hampstead Heath (romantic, wonderful, love-my-life) – and then we went home.. and I turned on the lights… and looked in the mirror…. and I was SUNBURNT!!!

But did I deserve it or what? I need to get me some SPF 50 baby, for the mean British sun.

And PS it was an absolutely gloriously sunny 70 degrees here today AGAIN! And it’s supposed to be the same tomorrow! Oh why isn’t my sea shipment with all my summer clothes here yet? Why?!

So, New Englanders, how’s that snow treating ya? Want to come visit us yet?

Here’s the *lovely* new insulated picnic bag I picked up at a charity shop for just 10 quid. (Charity shop = thrift store , quid = pound – there now you speak British.)