Saturday, January 7, 1989

Plymouth Rocks ...

Last day of exploring today, so I decided to try and make it a good one. J.P. and I woke up a little past 8 a.m. for yet another good breakfast and showers, then paid our bill at the bed and breakfast and were off exploring Plymouth. (Picture #1: The Belvedere, located along the Hoe. I'm sitting at the bottom steps.)

We started out walking along the waterfront, in a public area known as The Hoe. Took some photos, then continued walking along the shoreline, enjoying the scenery. That eventually led us into Barbican, which is the old shopping district of town, and we walked around there a bit. Once again, I was able to find two more James Bond books for my collection ("Moonraker" and "Dr. No"), which was helpful. (Picture #2: The Royal Citadel, an historic fortress along the coastline.)

From there we walked back to the newer shopping district, more modern and a sharp contrast to the old shopping district. Overall, I found Plymouth to be a very modern and impressive town. We found a market where we walked around some more, and where I found yet another James Bond novel, "Live and Let Die." I now only need to find "Casino Royale," "Octopussy" and "From Russia with Love" to complete my collection of the Ian Fleming James Bond series.

On to Penzance... or, the Very Model of a Modern Major-General ...

Well it was at this time, shortly before noon, that J.P. and I parted ways for the first time since we joined up in Edinburgh. J.P. decided for the last night, he wanted to head up to Blackburn and visit Big Jon. However, since I would've had to find my own lodging in Blackburn, I opted for a different adventure and decided to travel to Penzance, the furthest point southwest that you can go in Britain (at least by train!) Yes, the "Pirates of Penzance" Penzance, along the coast of Cornwall. (Picture #3: For the love of Pete, put down that camera and get me off this ledge, J.P.! OK, it seemed funny at the time...)

So J.P. and I bid farewell, and after withdrawing £15 from the bank (hopefully my last withdrawal for a long time), I caught the 11.45 train to Penzance.

I arrived in Penzance a little after 2 p.m., put my big brown duffel bag of gear in a train locker, and began to scour the seaside town's offerings. I casually examined the little shops and the seaside, looking for bed and breakfasts. Since I caught the town during the off-season, a lot of the places were closed. Fortunately, I found one open and within my price range (£8.50), the Glencree Hotel (Picture #4).

I unloaded my gear, took off my jacket (because it was so warm - springtime weather in January!), and continued walking around town. This time I brought my camera along. I bought some postcards while ambling about, as well as some dinner (a chicken sandwich and chips). I also bought some ham and rolls to make sandwiches (and save some money) on the journey back to Hull tomorrow, as well as a 6-pack of Pepsi (they didn't have Coke) and crisps.

I walked along the sea coast and took some pictures, then returned to the room, writing a few postcards. (Picture #5: The sun sets on a gorgeous day in Penzance.)

Watched the news, then caught "Thunderball" at 6.45 on ITV. Now I was able to compare it to the book I had read, and could notice the many changes that had been made. Of course, it's still quite good.

After the movie I played some solitaire and read. Ate a Twix bar, then went to sleep not too late, in the hopes of waking up in time to catch the 9.47 train to London Paddington, on my way back to Hull.

Friday, January 6, 1989

Birthplace of The Bard ...

Only a couple of days left before we have to return to the reality of college life in Hull!

J.P. and I ate breakfast at about 8.30 a.m. (very good and filling), then packed our things, left the pub, and explored Stratford-Upon-Avon.

First, we went to visit Shakespeare's Birthplace. (Picture #1: Me at Shakespeare's abode). It was a very well preserved old home. We walked around the house, admired the historic furniture and costumes, and especially the original manuscripts and books on display. We even got into an interesting conversation with one of the tour guides for quite awhile.

I got some keen photographs of the home, then we walked through the gift shop (which we learned was not an original feature of Shakespeare's home when he lived there!). I bought a Shakespeare poster for Viv. (Picture #2: My ticket stub from the tour. Yes, it may seem like I saved everything!)

Next we walked along the Avon River (the "Upon Avon" part of Stratford), marveling at the hundreds of ducks and swans that congregated along the banks of the river. It was quite amazing. (Picture #3: The Royal Shakespeare Theatre, and a congregation of ducks and swans in the Avon River.)

We walked into the Royal Shakespeare Theatre and looked around a bit. Decided not to get tickets to see a show today. (I did get to see one, "Julius Caesar," when I was here for my class trip in '87. That was a bit of a mistake, though. A group of tired high school travelers taken to see a heavy 5 act, no breaks, play. However, I'll never forget when my friend Justin, who had fallen asleep, was startled awake by the actor's scream of "Brutus!")

From there we visited the Church of the Holy Trinity, where Shakespeare is buried (and was baptised). We continued to scour the town, and I found a book store where I bought two more James Bond paperbacks for 25p each. We ate a good meal at a little restaurant that had a luncheon deal for £3.50. It was well worth it!

Well our next destination was Plymouth, which required a bit of a train ride. So after lunch it was time to bid farewell to Stratford and head back to the train station. We wrote a few postcards until the train to Birmingham arrived. I finished writing mine on the train ride while J.P. slept.

When we finally got to the train station, we had a long wait because the train to Plymouth was delayed 78 minutes due to a freight train that had caught fire and forced other trains to re-route.

Soon, we boarded the Inner City 125 and were on our way to Plymouth. We sat next to a very annoying kid who liked to use the word "turd" a lot, but it was an otherwise pleasant journey.

We were overwhelmed by our first impressions of Plymouth, which were even more pleasant. The weather was warm, and it was enjoyable walking around at 9 p.m. We found a very nice Bed & Breakfast to stay in (Picture #4, the business card for Westwinds, where we stayed), for only £9.50 each, then went for a walk and grabbed some dinner.

The waterfront was incredible, and the scenery along with the unbelievably warm weather almost immediately made this trip to Plymouth worthwhile. (Picture #5, the scenic Plymouth Hoe Waterfront, featuring the landmark Smeaton's Tower.) We continued to walk around and found a nice little restaurant that was still serving dinner. We both ordered the lasagna and salad. After dinner we explored the waterfront a bit more, the site where the Pilgrims departed for America back in 1620. Then we returned to the room, where after a little reading, I went to sleep.

I don't think I can express enough how pleasant this place is.

Thursday, January 5, 1989

Land of Shakespeare ...

J.P. and I woke up a bit later than we had hoped (9 a.m.), but we were still in good shape for keeping on our travel plans for the day, which was to find us eventually arriving in Stratford-Upon-Avon.

We got the flat cleaned up, then called Liz from a public phone (she had been trying to get a hold of us, but the line to her brother's flat was not connected.) She came over to inspect the place, only to dirty up the carpet we had just cleaned. Thanks Liz!

Once we got the proper approvals from Liz, we all walked to the bus station, and from there rode to Ashton station, and then caught another bus to Manchester Piccadilly. There we caught the train to Birmingham New Street Station, then had to take a walk to Moor Street Station, where we had a 50 minute wait. So we got to spend a little less than an hour in Birmingham.

From there, we caught the train to Stratford-upon-Avon. We had no problems finding a Bed & Breakfast here, as we went to one that was also a pub, located very close to the train station. How convenient, all around!

After we unpacked, we explored the town at night, taking a look at the Royal Shakespeare Theater (pictured), then eating dinner at a Poppins. We returned to the room after a bit, then each took much needed baths. Next we went downstairs to the pub for a pint and some pool, then retired to the room to read and watch some TV... a movie called "The Carey Treatment" starring James Coburn. I finished reading "Thunderball," then went to bed.

Wednesday, January 4, 1989

'Yanks Shoot Down Gaddaffi Warplanes' ...

Arose to the sounds of Genesis' "The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway" at a little past 9 a.m. Got ourselves up and soon made the chilling discovery that no only was there no heat in the apartment, but there was no hot water as well. So no showers today!

We caught what was pretty much the furthest thing from a direct route into Manchester, finally arriving at about noon and began our search for the Manchester Evening News building. Today was the day we had scheduled a tour of the building with the editor and Dr. Morrison's friend, Mike Unger (pictured).

I bought a copy of the newspaper to get the address, and when we finally found the road it was located upon, we began the search. It wasn't too long before we found ourselves in front of the building, an hour before we were expected. So we walked around town for a bit, into a bookshop where I bought 2 more Bond books ("For Your Eyes Only" and "The Man with the Golden Gun"), then we walked around to the concert hall. While there we passed by a bank where we saw the police running in, but we never exactly found out why. Stopped into a model shop, and by then the time for our tour was drawing near, so we left and headed back to the Manchester Evening News.

When we arrived, we ended up having to wait about 15 minutes, but for a very good reason... because of a late breaking story that just hit moments before we arrived. The United States had just shot down two Libyan MiG fighter jets in the Mediterranean Sea. Needless to say, I was thrilled to have an opportunity to be there when the news hit and experience the process of pulling together a news story at a large metropolitan newspaper (it has a daily circulation of about 350,000.)

It was an amazing operation... they put out six editions every day! (Compare that to my college newspaper The Snapper, which cranks out one a week.) Got to visit the Features Department, Sports and News departments at work, saw the giant presses and watched them remove the old edition and replace it with the new one that featured a story on the late-breaking news of the melee in the Mediterranean.

Mike was very gracious to give us some of his time to show us the newsroom in action... especially considering our visit coincided with heightened activity. We also had some pretty interesting discussions about journalism. One thing we talked about was the Lockerbie air disaster. He made the decision to declare the plane crash a terrorist bombing before it had been officially declared as such. He said the evidence up to that point, particularly the way the plane crashed, made it clear to them that this was definitely a terrorist bombing. I questioned his decision suggesting that it was too soon to make that call when the possibility still existed that it was caused by some other malfunction on the plane. He said his gut told him that this could not have been anything other than a bombing. "What would you have done if it wasn't?" I asked.

"But we were right," was all he responded to this and my other questions, unflinching and smiling. I soon realized that it was the only answer I was going to get. He was so confident that his gut was correct that he never even entertained the possibility that he might have been wrong. And you know what? He was right.

Mike gave us a few souvenir copies of the newspaper, and satisfied with what we had learned, we were on our way to scour Manchester and see what else it had to offer.

We went into a library that had some very old books, but we were not permitted access to see much of anything, so we didn't stay very long.

Walked around town a bit more and went into an art gallery that had a wealth of pottery and silverware, as well as extensive paintings. We then ventured next door to a Falklands War exhibition, which was also very interesting, and educational. I knew a little bit about the war beforehand, but this gave me a deeper perspective on it.

When we left we headed to a little chippy shop where we got a very good meal for under £2 each. Wondering what to do next, J.P. and I decided to take in the cinema, and went to a theatre where they were showing the movie "Willow." It was the second time I'd seen it, but definitely a fun and entertaining movie. Val Kilmer is one of my favorite actors right now.

Following the film, J.P.'s foot started hurting and we decided to make our way to the bus station, though we got a bit misguided along the way, prolonging J.P.'s agony. We finally managed to make it to the station, and after a bit of a wait and my own excursion for some chips n gravy and a cola, we caught the bus back to Ashton. We walked back to the flat, talked a bit, then went to bed around midnight.

Tuesday, January 3, 1989

An Unrivaled View of the Lake District ...

Woke up for an 8.30 a.m. breakfast (a good, hearty English one!), paid our £10 bill to the kind folks at the Lynwood Bed and Breakfast, then J.P. and I were off. Money is getting scarce, and a cashpoint machine was nowhere to be found in the Lake District, which could prove troublesome.

So after buying a deck of "Lake District" playing cards as a souvenir and scurrying around town, J.P. was able to get £10 out of a Barclay's cashpoint machine... although it cost him a ridiculous £1.50 to do so. Then we were finally off for some sightseeing.

We first followed a footpath that, according to the sign at the start, promised us an "unrivaled view of the Lake District." Well if it's unrivaled, then it's the view we want.

Indeed, it did provide us with quite a picturesque image of the Lake District. There was a light fog that misted through the valley and provided us with an interesting atmosphere to enhance our "unrivaled view." (For awhile, J.P. and I used "unrivaled" to describe nearly everything we encountered.) Good pictures here.

We continued to explore for awhile, looking at sheep and pretty landscapes (waterfalls, sheep, trees, more sheep). (Photo left is of sheep doing sheep things.)

We also had a most interesting encounter with a mule, and when we strayed from the trail for a minute, I caught a glimpse of what I thought was a deer. Turns out it was actually 3 deer. Unfortunately, they ran off before I could snap a photo of them. It still made my day.

We walked back to Windermere where we grabbed some pub grub, then made an unsuccessful attempt to visit Grasmere, where William Wordsworth lived and where my class trip visited the previous year. When that didn't work out, we walked around some more, saw more sheep, then found something labeled a "Public Trail."

But was it? All we found was mud, horse manure (or some kind of manure, anyway), and a fence enclosing a private farm. So we snuck out with manure on our shoes and snapped a picture of the "trail of no return."

At this point, it was time for us to depart and prepare for the next leg of our journey. So we headed to the train station, unloaded our luggage from the locker, and caught the train to Oxenholme, satisfied with our journey to the Lake District. Our next stop, Manchester, where we were planning to stay with Liz Ortega.

But our plan hit a snag when I called Liz from the Oxenholme train station. It seems she was having a bit of a row with her parents, and she didn't think that we'd be able to stay at her place. That could definitely pose a problem for us.

Well we caught the next train to Preston, where we sat in the "cattle car" once again, and then from Preston caught our last train that took us to Manchester. Once we got to the station, I called Liz again, and she had some good news for us. She said we were allowed to stay in her brother's apartment, since he was in Holland at the moment. Good break!

So we hopped onto a very crowded bus and made our way to Ashton-Under-Tyne, where Liz met us at the bus station, after which we all went to McDonald's for some dinner. Then we caught another bus that took us to her brother's flat, then unloaded our gear when we arrived. Since the heat had been shut off, the flat was rather chilly inside.

The three of us sat inside and talked for a bit, during which time we opened up one of our bottles of wine. When Liz left, J.P. and I played some cards... "Blackjack," of course (not the "21" variety most commonly attributed to this name; the British version.) It's a game we played a lot back at The Grange Halls.

We played for awhile in a bit of a giggly mood (partially because of the cold room, partially because of the wine), and midway through we decided to mix it up a bit and play some Gin Rummy instead of Blackjack. However, after the cards were dealt, we both apparently forgot and just started playing Blackjack again. We both had a good laugh when we realized what we had done.

Finally went to sleep around midnight.

Monday, January 2, 1989

On to the Lake District ...

It's another day of traveling today... this time from St. Andrews to the famed Lake District of western England. After gathering our gear and saying our farewells to the Pruntys for their generosity, Mr. Prunty drove J.P. and me to the train station, where we caught the train.

It was crowded, but we still managed to waggle ourselves two seats, which were free but were reserved for other passengers once we arrived at Edinburgh. Well, when we gave up those seats, we were fortunate enough to find two seats that were only reserved from Carlisle.

But once we arrived in Carlisle, our luck ran out. The train by now was completely packed, and at this point we had no choice but to stand in the "cattle car" for the bulk of our trip.

During our trip south through Scotland we passed by the Lockerbie train station, site of the Pan Am Flight 103 crash 12 days ago. We didn't pass by the crash site (picture #2 is of the Lockerbie crash site from the newspaper), but that's just as well.

Well it was a relief when we were finally able to depart that train and climb aboard the train that would take us to Oxenholme, and from there we caught another train to Windermere, the small town right in the heart of the Lake District, perhaps best known as the home of famed British poet William Wordsworth. (Picture #3 is me acting like a nerd at the sign welcoming us to Windermere. Yes, I said "acting." Shut up.)

J.P. and I first found ourselves a Bed & Breakfast room, then walked around Windermere for a bit. We found a trail to hike, which was very scenic and followed a stream (photo #4, below).

We soon happened upon the tiny hamlet of Bowness and began our search for a place to eat. Our search failed miserably, so we returned to Windermere, where we met with no more success. After resting in our room for about an hour, we returned to Bowness at about 6 p.m., and this time we found an open restaurant, Gibby's, where we could dine. Whew! We were starting to think that all of the restaurants were closed for the season.

We had a 15-minute wait, but that was nothing considering how long it took us just to find a place that was open. And it was worth the wait. J.P. had haddock while I opted for the turkey dinner. I paid for it with my Access card.

After eating, J.P. and I walked back to the room, watched "Desperately Seeking Susan" on TV, followed by a Woodie Guthrie special, and then went to sleep. We plan on checking out more of the scenery here tomorrow.

Sunday, January 1, 1989

Hogmanay Through the Night ...

1... 2... 3... Well, we then did the traditional Scottish thing and visited other people throughout the brisk New Year's night. You are supposed to take a lump of coal to the guest's house for good luck (maybe all the ones you got on Christmas for being naughty), but we forgot. Actually, Kenny forgot... we didn't know until he told us along the way.

Our first stop was at Kenny's friend Mike's house, but he wasn't in. Which makes sense, because if you are supposed to go out visiting people on New Year's Day, it stands to reason that a lot of people will be out and about. Nevertheless, Mike's parents were home, so we had drinks with them until some other kids came to the house.

One funny moment while at Mike's. J.P and I were sitting talking to each other when a man in a suit walked right between us and stopped, as if we weren't there. I looked on both sides of the man, pushing his coat in my face as I moved. When he left, J.P. and I were in hysterics. I guess it falls under the "had-to-be-there" category.

Another good moment came when Mike's Dad was asked if I wanted another beer. I said that I was fine, that even though I had finished my first beer, I had nicked another that was on the table because the statute of limitations ran out on it, so I grabbed it. The adults there fell into hysterics, called me a true Scotsman and then asked again if I wanted another beer. This time, I said, "Sure!"

Before long, all of the kids were kicked out of the house, and we were left roaming the dark streets of St. Andrews looking for a party to crash. By this point, we had quite a gathering... probably one of the reasons we couldn't find a party... everyone was with us.

Soon, J.P. and I noticed that we were leading the pack. Yes, a bunch of Scottish locals were following two Americans around... the only two people here who had absolutely no idea where they were going or what they were doing. Curious to see how many people were just blindly following the two Americans, we turned into a driveway where the lights were out, got to the end of it and turned around to see how many would follow us in. Most of the pack followed us and took a few seconds to realized what had happened. We giggled profusely.

Well, we continued to wander, getting nowhere. It was a very clear, starry night, and we got a nice view of the Milky Way in the sky.) However, soon it became clear that everyone wanted to congregate at Kenny's house. Everyone, that is, except Kenny. The mob was insistent, but Kenny didn't like that idea. So when the rest of the gang wasn't looking, Kenny, J.P. and I broke loose and high-tailed it through back alleys, ducking the group and making it back to Kenny's.

When we arrived we kicked back with a few beers and watched "Blazing Saddles" on TV, finally getting to bed at about 4 a.m. It looks like the start of a good new year.

Kenny's 2: The Next Day

Woke up at about 1 p.m. and lazily made my way downstairs to eat some breakfast (breakfast?) Afterward, we went on a car ride around the area, which included a stop at an injured oil platform (not the Piper Alpha, which was destroyed in an explosion that killed 167 men last July, the world's worst offshore oil disaster... the other one.)

It was a good trip, even though I was pretty quiet throughout (still recovering from the previous night), but it was enjoyable and relaxing to see the sites this way.

When we came back, we went over to the College, where J.P. found a baby grand and played some piano. Then we borrowed two guitars and took them back to Kenny's house, where J.P. and I played for awhile.

Ate some dinner, then toyed around with Kenny's keyboard, creating our own brand of "Acid" music (it's really quite easy with the right equipment.) Then we watched "Amadeus." I had never seen it before, and it was an excellent movie, although a rather long one. When it was over, I watched a bit of "Billion Dollar Brain," but got bored with it. So I went upstairs to read for awhile, then fell asleep around 1 a.m.

(Pictures: #1 is a structure at the University that is basically located in Kenny's garden. #2 is a view of the old stone bridge on the famed 17th green of St. Andrews' Old Course, where the British Open is held about every 4-6 years.)

***

• Number One Song in Britain This Week: "Mistletoe & Wine" - Cliff Richard (again??!!! This turned out to be the biggest selling single in Britain in 1988. I'm not sure I even recall ever hearing it.)
  
• Number One Song in America This Week: "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" - Poison (When Poison finally hit over in Britain, I told several people I'm from the same area as Poison lead singer Bret Michaels... who I would actually meet in December 1991 at the Gingerbread Man in Mechanicsburg)