Firenze Frenzy

Frenzy is what happens when you forget to book ahead before going to Florence. It’s also what happens when your accommodations cancel on you. But more on that in bit.

Florence was absolutely beautiful! From the moment we got off the train and onto the bus to take us to our accommodations, you can tell it’s a much smaller and friendly city. I was pleasantly surprised to find that more people there speak English than in Rome, and that the costs of food and more importantly, gelato, were less than previous towns too. We arrived early Friday afternoon, and because I didn’t book Uffizi Gallery tickets ahead of time (woops), we had just enough time to settle in and then wander over to the gallery. 

Two weeks before our trip I got an email saying that our room had been cancelled. Great. In a panic we googled anything possible and Tianna found a site called Monastery Stays, that acts at a sort of trip advisor for monasteries or convents around Italy. We had kept it as a sort of last resort and ended up booking at a place called the Gould Institute. Google it, and you can read all about the lady that started it and how it functions today. Pretty cool actually! Anyways. Thank goodness we ended up booked this place. It had an air condition and a fan, two beds and our own bathroom. Sweet deal. And for about the same we were going to pay for an apartment with one double bed and questionable air conditioning. Woo! The location was awesome too, located in the Santo Spirito neighbourhood south of the Arno River. Our wine geography prof Donna had recommended here too, so we lucked out. 

We grabbed lunch at a place Tianna found (and turns out is also in the Rick Steves guide book), I bought some really nice, original art and an ATM stole my money I tried to withdraw (TD is working on it, sad day for me). Then we meandered over to the Uffizi Gallery and marvelled at the million pieces of art. The Borghese was better I think, but perhaps I am just more familiar with those artists than the ones in the Uffizi. After that we headed back to our room for a nap before getting dinner at a tiny place down the road from our place.

Saturday morning we got up relatively early to go to the Accademia. Again, I’m an idiot and didn’t pre-book so we ended up in line for an hour and half waiting to see David. In the end it wasn’t so bad and was worth it, plus the café across the street had these amazing pistachio cream stuffed croissants and coffee to go, which is rare in Italy. Once we got in though, it was amazing. You come around the corner into the museum and look down this long hall lined with other works by Michaelangelo and bam! There’s David. I got goosebumps. I didn’t realize how tall the guy actually is. It’s really beautiful. Another neat part of the museum is that it is home to Michaelangelo’s Prisoners, which are unfinished sculptures. You can see all the detail and chisel marks. It really makes you consider how much time and effort went into creating each and every piece of art he did. 

David, in all his pondering glory.

This is actually Christ being taken to the tomb after being crucified. His body is quite disproportionate, and his legs are clearly broken. Like the Prisoners this too is an unfinished piece.

Following the Accademia we went to Mercato Centrale, it’s like the Granville Market of Florence and it’s awesome. All I wanted to do was buy truffle oil, prosciutto and salami, and half a dozen cheeses. We limited ourselves to a bowl of pasta before I dragged Tianna halfway across town to an antiques market that we discovered doesn’t really exist. Oh well! Exercise can only make us stronger right?? Tianna went home and I wandered around for another few hours before grabbing an Aperol spritz at a bar Donna had recommended. The bartender was a total schmuck, but the drink was refreshing and I headed home after for a nap as well. 

We grabbed an early dinner on Saturday and then found some spots on the river for the San Giovanni Day fireworks! We met some girls from the states, watched the fireworks, and then marched straight home to our air conditioned beds. 

We ordered mussels thinking we were going to get 12-15 like yo do at home when you order them as an appetizer. We must have eaten over 50!!

Sunday was a lazy, wander around town sort of day. Half the things we wanted to do were closed, so we ended up just buying our train tickets for the next day to Pisa and then doing a little bit of shopping. We bought haggled for a couple belts outside the market, and I bought a cute little change purse and some scarves. Tianna bought some scarves too, and then we found a bench in the shade to eat our cheese buns and fantas we’d bought earlier for lunch. I bought some cute shoes too, and now I’m struggling to find places to fit all my purchases. I’m going to end up looking like the Michelin tire man on the plane home. That night we hiked up to Plazza de Michaelangelo to watch the sunset with all the love struck youth of Florence. Too much PDA for us, but it was really beautiful if you ignored all the couples necking and just watched the sun set. 

Monday morning we just checked out of our place, went back to the market to get some baked goods and fruit for lunch, and I stood in line to see the inside of Florence’s duomo. It’s beautiful, and the frescoes on the dome are impressive, but after seeing both St. Peter’s and the Sistine Chapel it’s just not as mind blowing. Either way it was cool to see. After that I went back to the market to meet up with Tianna and we headed back to grab our luggage and catch our train to Pisa. 

Saturday night, waiting for San Giovanni fireworks!

Florence’s ginormous duomo.

Watching the sun set over Firenze. So beautiful and worth the 1 billion stairs and kissing teenagers everywhere.

We were only in Pisa for one full day and two nights, and that’s probably more than enough time. The leaning tower is… well… leaning, and only 56 metres tall. I think we both got more entertainment out of watching everyone try and hold the thing up for photos than seeing the tower itself. It took two centuries to build something that isn’t even straight. Why would you waste that time and those resources? No capisco. We ate at a cute restaurant the first night where the owner wouldn’t let us pay full price, and a sandwich shop the next day where I accidentally ordered a sandwich with lard slices in it. Tasty, but the consistency is not fun. I’ll translate better next time. Our hostel there was mediocre at best and we had some weird roommates.

I too, can lean. Zero faulty engineering needed.

Hilarious rating of the tower we found on google… well done fellow travelled… well done.

The tourists… I like the guy who’s on the wrong side of the tower…

When we left Wednesday morning it was absolutely pouring, and we had to make a mad dash for the train station. Not going to lie though, it was a nice break after 33°+ weather for 2 weeks straight. We got into Manarola in Cinque Terre around 2:30 and hung out until we could check in at 4:00. But more on that later! As promised, I included more photos! Also, if you want specific names of anywhere we’ve been, feel free to comment and I’ll send them your way! Also, the tower was actually neat to see. I’m not completely ignorant of its wonder 😬.

We’re headed to Venice tomorrow! If you have any suggestions let me know!

Last but not least, Ponte Vecchio in Firenze. So neat!

Vaticani Mvseo

Our last day in Rome was spent hoofing it out to the Vatican City. We took the metro and then walked the last 10 minutes to St. Peter’s and boy is that place big. Of course we had to weave and dodge the 1 million street vendors and tour guides offering us exclusive and “specially priced” tours of the museums and basilica. They are very aggressive, and on more than one occasion we’ve had to physically push past them to continue walking. Once there, we got through the security and dress code check into the basilica itself and while Tianna went in to look at the cathedral I stood in line to hike the bazillion stairs to the top of the dome. 
Unfortunately we got there a bit late and with a time constraint due to our reservation for the museums at 13:45 I ended up having to ditch the line and just look at the inside of the dome and cathedral. It would have been neat to see Rome from way up there, but I guess I’ll just save it for next time! The inside of St. Peter’s is beautiful and filled with niches and side nooks with beautiful art and monuments to popes past and important figures in the church (like St. Peter himself). A really neat part of the basilica is that on the floor down the middle of the cathedral is the names of other cathedrals and duomos around the world; they are placed on the floor at the distance to which they would reach in comparison to St. Peter’s. It’s cool to see how big (or small) other churches stand in comparison. I wish people inside had been more respectful and quiet though… 

My phone ended up going on the fritz while we were there and we got separated. We spent 30 minutes looking for each other before finally reuniting and practically running the 10 minutes down to the museum entrance so we wouldn’t be too late for our reservation! Once we got there we got stuck behind a large and particularly disorganized and slow tour group, so it didn’t matter anyway.

We wandered through the Egyptian museum and then kinda just hustled through the others to get to the Sistine Chapel. The museum closes at 16:30 or 17:00 too, so by the time we actually got there and got going we only had around 2 hours for the whole thing. You could easily spend a whole day going through everything if you’re really diligent and interested in all sorts of art and history. It was very busy though, so that was pretty annoying to have to push past people who don’t have any sort of spatial awareness or particular interest in actually learning about the art or space and are there because it’s “The Vatican”. 

Going into the Sistine Chapel, they are very strict with covering your knees and shoulders, and ask that you be absolutely silent. There aren’t a ton of instructional signs prior to entering either, so I wasn’t actually aware that you couldn’t take photos until I tried to take one and a tour guide gave me a nasty look. My bad. It’s every bit as beautiful as you think it’ll be. We half listened to the Rick Steves podcast and half to our audio guides and between the two learned a ton about the frescoes. For example, the size of the figures on the far end (farthest from the altar) are much smaller and numerous than the ones on the near end to the altar. Why? When Michaelangelo started painting he just had this idea and went with it. When they took the scaffolding down and he looked up he was unhappy with how small and insignificant everyone looked. Thus, once he started on the second half he made the characters fewer in number and much larger than before so they would stand out more from the ground. 

Every few minutes they ask (yell) that everyone be quiet, but people still talk and chatter away. It’s so rude. Even if you don’t believe in God or practice Christianity the least you can do is be respectful of the space and someone else’s religion! At one point a [priest?] spoke over the mic and welcomed everyone to the space and said that he was going to lead everyone in a prayer and asked that they be quiet. It got louder. He even explained it in 5 languages. This frustrates me to no end. Apparently it’s very difficult to breathe through your nose for 5-10 minutes and keep your mouth shut. It totally takes away from the experience when someone is yelling at the crowd to stop talking because they can’t follow one of the three rules for the space. *exasperated sigh*

After that we just popped into the art gallery and refilled our water bottles at an outside station. On the way out I stopped at the Vatican Post Office, which is different from the rest of Italy and mailed a few postcards. Kinda neat that they have their own postal service there! The stamps had the Pope on them too, so that’s hilarious. It’s also cheaper to mail things to Canada from the Vatican than it is from Italy in general! The museum was closing so we took our time going down the double helix staircase to leave and then found some gelato on the way back to the metro stop. 

Thursday night we went out and met Olivia in Trastevere, a neighbourhood on the Southwest side of the river. Apparently there’s tons of great little restaurants in there, and we ended up getting pizza at a place a friend of Tianna’s recommended. They sell the pizza by weight instead of size or kind, so Tianna and I split a box and got 2 slices of 6 different kinds of pizza. So yummy! It was probably the best pizza we’ve had the whole trip so far. We sat on some steps in a little plaza and watched a guy drum on a bunch of buckets and tubes, fought off a guy trying to take our pizza box, and just chilled. Eventually we made it back to our hostel and got ready to leave the next morning.

We’re currently on the train to Manarola in Cinque Terre, so I’ll update you about our time in Florence later today or tomorrow. Then I’ll share a bit about our very brief time in Pisa! 
Have a good day everyone!  

PS. By the time we got to our hostel after getting off the train and realized how slow the wifi is here, I’ve decided to not include any photos for the sake of my sanity. I’ll include more on the next one!

Roman around

Ciao!

Last I wrote we were still in Salerno! We’ve since been in Rome and tomorrow we leave for Florence! It’s been a busy (and incredibly hot) week here! Rome is this amazing city full of ruins and modern buildings, and more art than I can handle. It’s super dusty here too- so much so that we look like we’re still wearing socks when we take off our shoes!

So dusty!

On Tuesday we caught the metro down to the Colesseum and spent the morning weaving through group tours and trying to picture what the place would have looked like thousands of years ago. The stadium could hold 50,000 people, and often events would last the whole day- ranging from animal fights, to killing Christians, to gladiator fights. It’s amazing how much you can learn from spending 5€ on an audio guide. Makes me think about how much we pay for university courses…. Did you know that in some stadiums the floor was removable (think taking out the ice at a rink), and the tunnels below would be flooded to accommodate boats for water battles? Imagine BC place filled with boats and cannons!

The tunnels beneath the arena floor

After the Colesseo we went to the Roman Forum, as the ticket gets you into both spots. Here we listened to Rick Steves audio guide and wandered through the town centre. It’s really impressive to see and they’ve even got the place where Caeser was killed marked. A lot of the audio guides we’ve been listening to tend to put emphasis on how much Roman culture surrounded their belief in the gods. So much time and effort was spent honouring these figures and building temples to them. I can definitely start to understand how the birth of Christ and the rise of Christianity would be threatening to them. 

After the Forum we wandered up the hill and around the Palatine Hill before catching the metro back to the gelato place. Then we met up with some girls from the hostel and grabbed a bite to eat just down the street. 

Yesterday morning we got up early and walked to the Borghese Gallery. If you ever go to Rome… go here. I can’t even begin to explain how amazing it was, so here are some photos. 

This is Napoleon’s sister… needless to say, she was prettier.

Bernini’s David.

Viewed from the back, all you can see is Apollo’s body and a tree. From the front you can see Daphne turning into a tree to escape him.

Then we meandered down to the Spanish Steps and the Trevi fountain, and grabbed lunch at an amazing sandwich place Tianna had found online. It’s called Pane e Salami and it’s around the corner from the fountain. Hands down best sandwich I’ve had in a long time. Maybe ever. Go there too if you’re in town and want a ginormous panini sandwich for lunch. The store front itself is tiny though, so grab it to go and find a shady spot near the fountain to watch the tourists get suckered into buying toys and roses and other cheap stuff. 

Make a wish!

Best sandwich ever.

Trevi at night was WAY busier than during the day!

After the Pantheon we headed back to the hostel for a nap, and then out to dinner not far from the fountain. It was very tasty and I finally got my zucchini flowers that I’ve been dying to have! Ricardo used to make them every once in a while at the restaurant, and I figured I’d be able to find it here too! 

So that was Tuesday and Wednesday! I’ll write about today tomorrow when we’re on the train to Florence! 

Bye!!

Ever eaten at one of those all you can eat sushi places?

We’re so full. At least we were several hours ago. We ate dinner at a cool pizza place called Criscemunno and it was sooooo good! One of the co-owners, Francesco was our server and he was hilarious. I guess this place opened a year ago and they’re still building their reputation, although when we left there were at least 30 people waiting for tables… We were decently hungry so we each ordered a full pizza, and in hindsight we definitely could have split one. But, we figured if the two skinny Italian girls sitting behind us could each down a whole pizza, so could we. And so, we ate. And ate. And ate. By watching others I’ve discovered that the way to eat pizza is to cut a slice that’s a bit larger than we’d normally like, and folding it half. This means all the good stuff stays in the middle. Easy right? We each left a slice on our plates at the end of it all… and Francesco made fun of us for not finishing everything. 

To be fair, Tianna tries to crack jokes that are funny in English and so far they’ve gone right over the heads of our Italian hosts. We did teach Francesco that it’s better to say he “designed” the menus though, rather than “painted” each and every one of them. I also had two local craft beers… at least I think they were local and craft. Who knows. I don’t read Italian. Either way they were tasty, and similar in style to a west coast ale.  Tianna also learned that blanco pizza means that they don’t put tomato sauce on it, and so she ended up cutting up and squishing tomatoes onto each slice herself. #learningcurve

We spent the day at Positano, the most westerly of the Amalfi coast towns. There’s a ferry that leaves the main docks here every few hours so we hopped on the 11:40 boat and headed over. It is hot here. Not like Okanagan hot or Mexico hot, like, YMCA sauna hot. I’ve never sweat so much in my life. (Except for maybe spin class). Before I left I thought for sure I was going to gain weight from all the food I’d be eating, but now I’m realizing that I’m just gonna sweat off every slice of pizza I eat. So when we arrived we hoofed it around the corner from the main beach, payed some greasy and slightly creepy Italian guy a few euros for the beach chairs and umbrella and settled into a front row seat of the the most leathery European tourists I’ve ever seen in my life. I’d like to know what the rates of melanoma are here. 

Honestly though it was super nice, and the water was the perfect temperature. I collected tons of sea glass and had a nap. Took a few photos and googled the history of Positano. Something about pirates and castles, but that’s all I got. Oh. And Rick Steves suggested a delicatessen around the corner from the main walkway for lunches. 4 hours later and we were back on the butt to Salerno, and ready to out sail the incoming thunder shower. 

Except we didn’t. Next thing we know us and one other couple are the only people left on the top deck of the boat and the tour guy is yelling, “it’s only water” as we get somewhat soaked. The lightning was cool to see over the coast, and I ended up using my beach towel to keep myself warm because the combo of rain water and wind was very brisk. Not together unwelcome after a hot day at the beach. 

Now it’s 4:34 am and I’m wide awake in bed because it’s so windy outside and hot in our room. Apparently I was sleep talking and yelled something about there being cougars here, and I’m not sure if I meant the animal or the people. Maybe both? In five hours we’re  going to head back up the train line to Pompeii to learn about the people who got murdered by the mountain. Should be good. 

If you’ve been to Rome I’d love to hear your suggestions. We’re headed there on Monday, so if you want to pass ideas my way leave a comment or message me on social media. Ciao!

Sarah

Hot dogs, or legs?

My pistachio pizza and local beer.

Tianna creating “sauce” for her pizza.

Hello!

It lives!

Welcome back to the elusive travel/adventure blog! In case you don’t follow me on social media here’s an update– I’m currently en route to Italy, sitting in the Munich Flueghafen, waiting for our connecting flight at 7:55 pm. It’s currently 3:16 pm. 

Tianna and I are headed to Italy for the next 3 weeks to celebrate our recent convocation from UBC. I met a lady on the skytrain yesterday who asked me what my degree is in. “English Literature and Social Geography,” I told her. To which she replied, “Oh my degree is in English Lit too! It’s very useful…”  Nonetheless she wished me a happy trip and her friend told me to have a great summer. So, we’re kicking off adulting with an adventure and running away from responsibilities. Sounds good right?

Our plan? We arrive in Naples tonight at 23:00 (I’m going to use 24hrs, writing pm all the time is annoying), and are staying one night at a hostel there. Tomorrow we’ll be on the train to Salerno for the weekend, and then off to Rome on Monday. Florence happens next Friday, and then Pisa on the following Tuesday. We’re going to stay in Manarola in Cinque Terre Wednesday through the 1st (Happy Colonial Birthday Canada!), and then Parma for a day before wrapping up in Venice from the 2nd to the 3rd. Then I come home and Tianna heads east to Moldova. 

The real plan? Eat much gelato, pasta, pizza, wine, and Italian beer for 21 days straight. I’ll keep you in the loop though, don’t worry. Also, please forgive any spelling errors or brevity, I’ll be posting from my phone while we’re here so my thumbs might get extra tired. 

Here’s a photo of us at YVR before becoming sleep deprived grumpy people. 

And here’s me trying to use the ridiculous travel pillow I got from KickStarter. 

I Had a Bath

Went. I went to Bath. It’s four hours away from Norwich. People think I’m crazy. They’re correct. If you travel anywhere further than an hour away from Norwich, people think you’re insane. Because you know, why would you ever venture to the very near far side of the country? If I lived on a tiny island, I would try and see as much of it as I could. Oh wait. England is a tiny island. Right.

So Bath was neat. Jane Austen lived there for a couple summers, so of course we had high tea at the Jane Austen centre.  People, there is an art to eating scones! They crumble, and fall apart, and melt in your mouth. The solution? Be delicate. Also, do not inhale. I also bought a teeny weeny leetle bottle of gin, that has Jane Austen’s face on it. It’s 50 ml, and I probably paid too much for it. But oh well. It’s locally made, and delicious, and a souvenir.  That being said, I’ll never drink it. It will be my treasure, that I shall keep forever to remind me of that one time I spent two days in Bath.

We also paid 13 quid to wander through the Roman Baths. Folks, I wasn’t going to do it. I was going to refuse to pay 13 British pounds to wander through Roman ruins. I AM SO GLAD I DID NOT LISTEN TO MYSElF FOR ONCE. If you ever go to Bath, I highly, and strongly, suggest you go on a tour of the Baths. There is more history and information in that two-hour walk than one could ever hope to know about a Roman Bath. Science and culture. Meshing. Diluting? Diffusing? Who knows. It was cool. Also there were statues. And giant cellular devices. And British actors pretending to be Romans. It was a bit backwards.

In all seriousness though, I learned an incredible amount about the people who settled Britain (kinda, mostly). I was blown away by how advanced the Romans were, and how many of the things they used back then (steam rooms for example), are utilized today. This place, larger than a football pitch (for you in North America read soccer field) originally, was like a YMCA for Romans. Exercise space, pools, steam rooms, massages, and to cap it off, a temple to pray at when all was said and done. Super cool. I want to go back and learn more. Maybe I’ll just read a book though. Train tickets are expensive. Come to think of it though, I was hesitant to pay to get in, yet spent money on a 50 mL bottle of gin. Ridiculous.

We also went to a Jane Austen improv performance. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. How could anyone do that? Well let me tell you, 50 Shades of Darcy, was fantastic. I mean… terrible. Just kidding. The prompt they chose was ‘What colour is that dress anyway?’ If you don’t get it you need to catch up on your pop culture. Or don’t. You’re not missing anything.

Post performance, we had a lovely drink in a local bar, called ‘The Gin Bar’. Original. I know. The gin martini I had was vonderbar, complete with coriander sprig to garnish. Once again, read cilantro. You’d love it or hate it. I thought it was awesome. I liked it so much I had another drink. The Somerset Negroni. Like a regular Negroni, but better. I was raised by the best of the best at Ricardo’s back home, and am discovering I’m a bit of a cocktail snob. No Bellini for me thanks, nor cheap vodka shots. Alcohol should be more refined than that. Enjoyed, not carelessly consumed. We’re in our twenties now folks, time for us to enjoy the finer things in life. (I can feel the old soul taking over my brain).

I realize I haven’t posted photos in a while. I’d say, ‘They’re on their way!’, but the truth of the matter is, I’m just too lazy to upload them from my camera. Then I have to sit here and go over how wonderful everything away from Norwich was, and start to feel depressed about living in the Kelowna of the United Kingdom. I thought I was getting away from white people over the age of 40. Not true. I’m pretty sure this is the bread box of Europe. More flat than Saskatchewan too. I can’t wait to climb a mountain when I get home. Or to be out of breath from walking, up a hill. A real hill.

Long story short. Go to Bath. Drink quality cocktails, and visit anywhere except Norwich unless you like old white people and never walking up a hill. Learn about the Romans, and don’t ever give up the chance to experience British humour first hand.

Until next time,

Sarah.

Odile the Goose.

On Wednesday night a few friends and I went to the Theatre Royal in Norwich’s city centre for the performance of Swan Lake, Tchaikovsky’s ballet. I remember seeing The Nutcracker when I was a kid, and I’ve seen televised versions of Swan Lake, but haven’t ever seen it live. It was half decent, although the swans could have been more synchronized and by the end it was pretty clear the dancers were becoming exhausted.  For that I don’t blame them, it was a long show. The music on the other hand, was fantastic.  I played the oboe in high school, so getting to hear it played again was really cool!

During the show though, I couldn’t help but laugh a bit.  Those of you who know me, understand that I have this critical and satirical sense of humour when it comes to watching shows.  Rarely will I sit through a movie or tv show without criticising it in one regard or another.  Sometimes it’s the acting, other times it’s the lack of feminism. A lot of the time I don’t even support the comment I’ve made, but hey, it’s fun to jest anyways isn’t it? Here are my thoughts on the Russian State Ballet of Siberia’s performance of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake.

Scene One. There are princes and paupers and who knows who else running around on stage and I’m thinking, ‘Okay so far this is alright.’ Then the hopping starts. I’m not going to pretend to be a dance aficionado, but it looked ridiculous. Now I’m thinking, ‘I can do that! I already do that! Every morning, while I’m trying to pull my pants on.’ This renders a snicker from myself, which I cover with my hand. Dancing princes and upset queens are nothing to laugh at. Unless they’re hopping. I should also mention, I like how in Swan Lake it’s the prince that’s being forced to marry, not the princess.

Scene Two. We’ve gone hunting, and our prince (Siegfried, if anyone cares) has seen a beautiful swan. Now I don’t know about you, but let’s be real here. If you’re off with your buddies, hunting, you’ve probably had a few beers and probably aren’t all present upstairs. Suddenly the bird you’re trying to shoot for dinner turns into a girl. I’d be outta there so fast. Birds and humans are very different things. But nope, he falls in love. Typical fairy tale. So then the prince disappears and the swans are left to do their things, which is dance… like birds. In my head I’ve now got David Attenborough narrating the scene. ‘The graceful swans often flap their arms in order to draw attention… See how they glide gracefully across the water?’  This goes on for the rest of the scene. Keep in mind that I know very little about swans, so it was mostly made-up nonsense and we all know that David Attenborough would probably never narrate anything fantastical like Swan Lake. Hence, I found it ridiculously amusing.

Next. We’re back in the castle. Or in the courtyard outside the castle. Who knows. Prince is dancing with his buddy, and there is an assortment of princesses also dancing around. Pick one. Well this one is too sultry, and this one looks like a giant toddler. How about the black one? No, that’s not racist, although I’m sure something could be read into that. So now the evil owl king has tricked princey boy into marrying the wrong goose… er, swan. Odile, the owl king’s daughter is kicking her legs up and doing all sorts of fun stuff on stage and I’m thinking, ‘I need to join a ballet class, if I could get my leg up that high shaving would be so much easier!’ And the dumb prince… falls for the wrong girl. Odette even warned him in a vision! Since the beginning, men have been ignorant of all the signs women drop.  Tchaikovsky could figure it out, why don’t modern men?

Finally. Lover boy runs back to the lake. There she is! I’ve stopped screaming out ‘IT’S THE WRONG GOOSE!’ and he’s finally listened to me, only to return to find his lovely princess dying of a broken heart. Or maybe an oil spill poisoned the lake. I’m not sure. This day and age, anything can kill you, and people change relationships like they change their underwear. Maybe she spent too much time in the sun. Really, it could have been anything. But, at least they get one final dance together. Halfway through there’s a bit where the prince is lifting Odette up in the air, whilst she moves her arms up and down, in a graceful flapping motion. This is the final straw. My brain is yelling, ‘Ima bird! Ima bird! Ima bird!’ Then they die. Apart. Not together. Princey boy is tossed into the waves, and Odette finishes centre stage surrounded by her goosey friends. Gooses? Geese? Goosen? Swan? Whatever.

So those are my thoughts on the ballet. I was quite entertained, although probably by the wrong things. Don’t get me wrong, the level of athleticism is still incredible, and the musicians were phenomenal. But, I believe a bit of comedy added to my enjoyment of the performance. All someone needs to do now is write a parody of the whole thing, and I will be content. Something along the lines of, ‘The Ugly Duckling that Got Kissed by a Frog.’ Don’t worry, it’s just a working title.

Till next time,

Sarah.

I just want a cup of coffee!!!

Okay, so when you move to England you expect that every cafe will have tea as their main beverage.  What you don’t expect, is that none of them offer coffee. At all. You can get a latte, a cappuccino, a mocha, a flat white, a doppio (what?) and any other assortment of espresso drinks. “Can I get a coffee?” “Was that a latte or an americano?” “No just a coffee.” “Sorry we don’t have filter coffee here.”  Imagine someone who’s really not impressed. The emoticon that looks like this “-.-“. That’s my face.

What do they mean they don’t have filter coffee.  What!? I’ve had three cups of coffee in the 6 weeks I’ve been in the UK. One at the B&B I stayed at on my first night. One at a Starbucks 3 weeks ago. A third on Tuesday night for my birthday at a theatre. It’s ridiculous. What does a girl have to do to get a good cup of coffee around here!? Woman cannot live on tea alone, despite what the Brits might believe.

Thus, it has become my personal quest to find the best latte in town. I’m talking about a straight, 8 ounce latte. One sugar. Artwork included. So far I’ve had 5 different ones.  Best one was today. Costa Coffee was number one.  Good for a chain place, better than Starbucks though that’s for sure. Nero was next, also good.  Just don’t order a sweetened drink. Both Nero and Costa dump the flavour in like it’s going out of style. Imagine how sweet a normal Starbucks latte is. Now double the sweetness. Not my thing. I’m growing to appreciate the bitterness of espresso more and more.

Numero three was Cafe Direct on campus. They’re probably the best for on campus coffee so far. Number four was Unio, the cafe run by the Student Union. Not bad either, but both are overpriced for the quality.  Quickly made, and without much love.  However, I did get a heart on my latte the other day from Unio.  British boys will try.

Finally. Today. I’ve been waiting patiently to try this cafe a friend of a friend told me about. It’s called Aroma, and it’s this tiny hole in the wall of a place. Exposed brick, a wooden bar, with rustic stools. Smiling, young baristas, eager to demonstrate their latte art skills. Today was a leaf. I’ve seen bears, hearts, and an arrangement of other things. The cups are beautiful too, warm black ceramic that doesn’t rattle when you pick up the saucer. It’s annoying when people can hear how unsteady your hands are. The second floor of the building is their coffee shop seating area.  Cute little tables for four, with comfy cushioned chairs. Plug-ins available for those of us that forget to charge their electronics, and windows over-looking the street. The music wasn’t too loud either.

But the latte!  Oh my goodness.  So far the search is complete.  Unless I happen to accidentally stumble across another shop, I think Aroma is my new home. The taste was great, really similar to my favourite coffee shop back home (Revolver on Cambie for those of you in the hunt for some strong espresso). I can’t wait to go back next week to try something else. Probably their hot chocolate, or maybe a mocha latte. Who knows. Oh, the best part? The third floor of the building is their wine and cocktail bar. What? Yup. Oh, it’s 7 pm, I’m done studying and could use a drink and appy before heading home to read yet another textbook. Not a problem, up a floor for a custom created cocktail.

It’s perfect. My new home, and I can’t wait to walk in there and have them recognize me. Don’t we all dream to be a regular somewhere?

Best latte in Norwich, Aroma. Check it out if you’re in town. If you’re not, take my word for it. And send a Tim’s Roll-Up cup the next chance you get.

Much love,

Sarah.

Your Weekly Weather Update, British Humour Included

It’s beginning to get warmer.  I don’t know about the groundhogs in Canada, but the bunnies of UEA are spending more time outdoors. Hopefully that predicts an early spring.  I’m not sure I can handle anymore blustery and rainy 5 degree days.  It’s been consistently around 7 or 8 during the day, freezing at night.  Everyone here is still complaining about how cold it is, but I’m just enjoying being able to be outside without a parka.

It’s been just over a month since I arrived in this cold and dreary place.  I think my brain is finally realizing that this is the way it’s going to be, and there’s nothing I can do about that. Why fight when you can’t win. So, I’ve resorted to just doing my own thing rather than trying to assimilate to the ridiculous British culture.  I get a good kick out of my flatmates, which makes for good entertainment.  Nothing like listening to the rowdies come back from the pubs at 3:30 on Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday mornings.  I’m pretty sure I know all the words to God Save the Queen now too.

Grocery day is Tuesday, as in laundry every two weeks. Speaking of laundry, should you ever feel the need for entertainment in a laundrette (as they are called here), I strongly suggest you drop a pair of your underwear next to a baby-faced British boy. The reaction is great.  I think I might even start doing it just for kicks.  See how many first years I can terrorize each time I do my laundry.  Such a British sense of humour. Hah.

I think I’m meant to be British in some ways.  There are so many things I’ve noticed that I keep thinking have prepared me for life here. Hard boiled eggs and soldiers.  That was a staple whenever we went to my Grandma’s house. My family likes their scrambled eggs runny, just like they eat them here.  My sense of humour is dry, sarcastic, and usually no one gets it.  Just like here. I run in cotton t-shirts.  None of this dry-fit nonsense over here.  People in England run in whatever they’ve got.  What’s the point in spending endless amounts of money on clothing that has been ‘engineered’. They’re stuck in the 90s here too.  I was born in the 90s.  Close enough.

Anyways.  I’m finally going to church tonight, as I’ve either missed the memo or been out-of-town the last couple weeks.  I’m excited to meet some new people and get a little bit more involved with something that doesn’t require drinking excessive amounts of alcohol. The people I’ve talked to seem really cool as well, so it’ll be sweet to find another bunch of friends.

Hope everyone is enjoying their weekend! See you all in 99 days!

Sarah.

The Squirrels of London

So this weekend a good friend and I decided to embark on a journey to London. We booked a night at a hostel a few weeks ago, and tickets for the coach that goes directly from our uni to downtown London. It was a cheap way to get there, stay, and enjoy our time. So, Saturday morning we left the campus around 545 am and arrived in London around 830.

It’s a good thing nothing in London opens until 9 or 10. Finding breakfast was our first challenge, and we found ourselves in hole in the wall eating scones and toast. Staples here on the island. Afterwards, we decided we’d head towards Buckingham palace to watch the changing of the guard.  That we discovered, only occurs every other day in the winter. So, we marched onwards to find more things to do.  Having reached Piccadilly Circus we paid too much for a pair of tickets to see Phantom of the Opera at Her Majesty’s Theatre.  Then, we found our way north to another little cafe and our hostel.

That evening, we raced through the British Museum (yes, I stood approximately 2 feet away from the Rosetta Stone), and then found an Italian restaurant with a super cheap pasta/salad/wine deal to fit our student budgets.  Then, we caught the underground downtown and raced to make it to the theatre. This for me was the highlight.  I love Phantom of the Opera, but I never thought I would have the chance to see it live.  I was in tears for almost the entire performance, and it was phenomenal.  Not a word out of place, just enough humour, and just enough romance to make it perfect without being a carbon copy of the original. It was beautiful, to say the least.  There really are no words to describe how it all made me feel.

We spent a sleepless night in the hostel, as our drunk and obnoxious flatmates made their ways back to bed around 2 am and proceeded to snore louder than a train for the entirety of the night. Note to self: carry earplugs, sound cancelling headphones, and for emergencies… gags/chloroform. Drunk snoring people look out.

Sunday was much better weather wise.  Windier for sure, but without rain and even a bit of sun which was nice.  We spent the morning wandering around by Big Ben and the London Eye.  I wanted to go through Westminster Abbey, but being Sunday it was closed to the public.  We accidentally happened upon a Cancer Fundraiser race too, which had closed down a fair bit of the city near the river.  I might research to see if there are any other races in London before I leave.  It would be fun to run a race while living here! That afternoon we took the underground up to Baker Street and wandered through Regent Park up to the zoo. Being quite cold and miserable at this point the zoo was empty for the most part, but we still got to see a fair number of animals!

I think my biggest highlight for the weekend though, were the new friends I made.  I discovered whilst wandering through a park that the grey squirrels here are more than friendly, and love being fed.  So, I had broken apart a granola bar and started handing out peanuts.  Then, this greedy little bugger took my entire granola bar right out of my hand. Wrapper and all. But, I don’t even care.  I got to feed squirrels right out of my hand. Trip made.

London was an array of languages, old buildings, and insane taxi drivers.  I’m really looking forward to going back, perhaps later in the spring so try and catch a few sunny days to really enjoy the city.  I still would love to see the Natural History Museum, as well as 221b Baker Street (Now no. 239 Baker Street), and some of the other incredible historical sites. I’ve included some photos for your viewing enjoyment.

The squirrel that took my granola bar.

That’s the Canada Memorial at Buckingham Palace, officially opened in 1994. What a special year.

Part of the Royal Cavalry; the horses were beautiful, although not super well-behaved.

Big Ben at the North end of Parliament (Westminster Palace). Didn’t Sherlock bust through one of the windows in the movie?

The London Eye. Over-rated ferris wheel.

My lovely little friend whom I met in St. James’ Park. This one didn’t steal my granola bar.

Until the next post!

Sarah