Sorry it's been so long since I posted! Yes, I made it back safe and sound November 3, just in time to vote the next day.
The funny thing about coming back to Albuquerque, the city I know so well, is that the change wasn't really jarring, even though this place is different from England in pretty much every way. It wasn't until we pulled into our cul-de-sac that I looked at the street and considered how wonderfully wide it was. There's room for two cars to pass each other with cars parked on both sides of it. It took me a few weeks to get used to the way things worked in England, but I slipped right back into life here almost immediately.
And since I decided to ship my souvenirs and such home instead of packing them in my suitcases, sometimes it feels strangely like I never left at all, like England was just a lovely dream. Any day now I'll be getting that box of goodies in the mail, though, and then I'll have proof!
So, I know I'm behind on articles here. I still haven't told you all about my favorite little town, Bury St. Edmunds, or my flat and friends in Beyton, or the friends at church! And I still have pictures of London to post, too! Keep checking back, I'll get around to everything as soon as I can.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Daylight Savings
Did you know that many countries across the world, including England, have daylight saving time? I sure didn't until recently. Turns out it was invented by an Englishman, William Willett. As it also turns out, the UK switches back to regular time a week or so before the US, so yesterday morning I got an extra hour of sleep.
This means that now I'm only six hours ahead of New Mexico time. While lying in bed early Sunday morning, I completed the first hour of my journey home. Slept through the whole thing!
This means that now I'm only six hours ahead of New Mexico time. While lying in bed early Sunday morning, I completed the first hour of my journey home. Slept through the whole thing!
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
On Cell Phones
To save you the same trouble I had getting functional cell phone service in here in England, here's what I know and found out about cell phones in the UK.
There are some services out there that allow you to rent an "international" phone, or you can buy a phone and service in England, but you may actually be able to bring your own cell phone if it meets a few requirements.
GSM vs. CDMA
First, it has to be a GSM phone. Verizon and Sprint/Nextel are CDMA phone services, while AT&T and T-Mobile are GSM. There's a difference between the two technologies that you can study if you're interested, but for practical purposes, GSM phones have a little plastic chip, called a SIM card, in the back of the phone behind the battery.
I'll get into the SIM cards more later, but right now the important thing is that to use your cell phone in England, it first has to be GSM. Next, it has to be able to operate on the bandwidth frequencies used in England.
Bandwidth Frequencies
Most cell phones operate on one or two different frequencies, allowing you to get good coverage in the States. If your phone is "tri-band" or "quad-band," it will operate on three or four different frequencies, and the provider will likely specify that in the product description online, labeling it as an international phone. Because the frequencies used by cell phones in the US are not the same as what's used in England, you'll need to have at least a tri-band phone to use it here.
If your phone is tri- or quad-band, look at the frequencies it can use, just to double check whether they're the ones used in England, 900 and 1800. If your phone can handle both of those, you're set to use the services of any provider in England. If your phone only has one of those numbers listed, you can still use it, you'll just need to choose a provider that works primarily on that bandwidth.
Choosing a Cell Phone Provider
The providers I've heard about the most over here are T-Mobile (UK), Orange, and Vodaphone. O2 is supposed to be very popular as well, but maybe not in East Anglia where I am. T-Mobile and Orange operate primarily on the 1800 frequency, and Vodaphone operates on 900. (No idea for O2.) Even if you don't purchase your service directly through one of these companies, you'll most likely be using one of their networks; the smaller guys make deals to use the existing networks because they can't afford to put up the infrastructure of their own. Since the smaller companies don't always make it clear which network they use for your service, you might as well get your service directly from T-Mobile, Orange, or Vodaphone, so you know what frequency your service will be before you buy.
Coverage, of course, is another issue. You won't find a totally honest coverage map online; everyone claims to get service everywhere, but of course in the countryside you'll have dead zones in some areas. If you want to be sure to get the right service for your area, when you reach your destination in England, look for an option in your phone (in the settings menu) for "network selection" to "search services" or labeled something similar to that. That will pull up a list of networks available in your area, so you can go out and purchase one of those services.
SIM Cards and Unlocking Your Phone
When you purchase a UK cell phone (mobile phone) service, really what you're buying is a SIM card, a little piece of plastic with a chip in it that contains data about your service plan. SIM cards represent, in my opinion, the genius of GSM. I really like having a SIM card because it separates the phone and the service attached to it, cutting out some dependence on the service provider. For example, if I get a new GSM phone, all I have to do to switch service from my old phone to the new one is to pull out the chip and put it in the new phone. Ta dah! I can also save data onto the SIM card, so contact numbers and other data can move to the new phone as well. For CDMA services, unless things have changed recently, I'd have to go into a store or use a different phone to call the service provider and get them to activate service on the new phone for me. CDMA carriers have to be personally involved in their customers' phone decisions, because the phone is inseparable from the service.
Separating the phone from the service in GSM also means you can use different services in the same phone by switching out the SIM cards. New SIM card, new service, same cell phone. The only catch is that most cell phone providers really don't want you do switch out of their service, so if you buy a phone from them, they lock it so it only reads their SIM card. There are places online where you can buy an unlock code for your phone, but if you've had an account with your provider for a certain amount of time (90 days is pretty standard), your provider is legally obligated to provide you an unlock code upon request, for free. Look up their conditions, request an unlock code per their instructions (usually you call or send an email), and they'll send you a code and instructions for unlocking your phone. Then any SIM card will work in it!
When to Buy
Unless you plan to be in England for longer than a few months, you probably want to get a prepaid service, buying minutes as you need them instead of agreeing to a contract and paying a monthly fee.
If you look online, you'll find several places willing to sell you a prepaid SIM card for UK service. Aimed at travelers, these sites will accept a US billing address and ship your SIM to you so you can have everything in place before you leave. Don't buy it. I strongly recommend purchasing your UK service after you get to the UK. Two main reasons:
1. Service and SIM card costs. Pay-as-you-go (prepaid) phone services are much more common here in the UK than in the States. This means that there is much more competition, so ultimately it's less expensive to get them. You can get SIM cards here absolutely free, only paying for minutes to put on them, while these online places only give you a pittance of minutes for the price you pay. The rest of the cost can sometimes go towards side benefits, like free incoming calls (which might be worth it to you) or slightly lower per-minute rates, but often UK services have side benefits too, so mostly you're just paying for the convenience of having the SIM card sent to you before you leave the country.
Note: If you're concerned about having cell phone use during your journey and until you secure UK service, check out your current provider's website and look at information for international roaming. Usually there's a free service feature you can add to your account (over the phone or online) that allows you to use your phone, at international roaming rates, while you're abroad. These rates will be horrendous, of course, but at least you will have service until you can get a UK SIM card.
2. Fixed vs. variable exchange rate. Getting a SIM card and service through one of these online places forces you to exchange your dollars for pounds through them at their fixed rates. For example, at Cellular Abroad you have to pay $19 for 5 pounds of talk time credit. Not even when the dollar was at its weakest this year was the exchange rate 4:1! If you buy a UK service and pay directly in pounds, your bank or credit card company handles the exchange from pounds to dollars, and their rates will vary as the standard exchange rate varies.
The only downside of purchasing a UK pay-as-you-go service that I've noticed is that I can't buy more minutes online, since I won't be here long enough to have a UK billing address. But prepaid phones are so common here that I can top up my minutes at the cash register of almost any store or at any ATM, so that hasn't been much of an inconvenience at all.
Enjoy Your New Service
After doing all that research and prep-work, you should be able to reap your reward and have good cell phone coverage. Now you have no excuse not to call your mother and tell her all about your travels!
For a quick review, here are the steps (in order) for getting all set to use your cell phone in England:
1. Check if your phone is GSM and tri- or quad-band. If it's CDMA, you'll have to rent or buy a new phone and service. If it's GSM but doesn't carry multiple bandwidths, see if you're due for an upgrade; maybe you could get one for free.
2. Add international roaming, or whatever your provider calls it, to your account, so you can use your phone if needed before you purchase a UK service. To be safe, do this a month before you leave in case it becomes effective only at the start of the next (monthly) billing cycle.
3. Unlock your phone. Allow for at least a day for your service provider to send you the unlock code, and then maybe another day or two for troubleshooting in the rare case it doesn't work.
4. When you arrive in England, select a service provider based on what's available in your area and what frequencies your phone can handle.
5. Buy the new SIM card and minutes, pop it in, and you're set! Keep the SIM card for your old service somewhere safe for your return to the States.
There are some services out there that allow you to rent an "international" phone, or you can buy a phone and service in England, but you may actually be able to bring your own cell phone if it meets a few requirements.
GSM vs. CDMA
First, it has to be a GSM phone. Verizon and Sprint/Nextel are CDMA phone services, while AT&T and T-Mobile are GSM. There's a difference between the two technologies that you can study if you're interested, but for practical purposes, GSM phones have a little plastic chip, called a SIM card, in the back of the phone behind the battery.
I'll get into the SIM cards more later, but right now the important thing is that to use your cell phone in England, it first has to be GSM. Next, it has to be able to operate on the bandwidth frequencies used in England.
Bandwidth Frequencies
Most cell phones operate on one or two different frequencies, allowing you to get good coverage in the States. If your phone is "tri-band" or "quad-band," it will operate on three or four different frequencies, and the provider will likely specify that in the product description online, labeling it as an international phone. Because the frequencies used by cell phones in the US are not the same as what's used in England, you'll need to have at least a tri-band phone to use it here.
If your phone is tri- or quad-band, look at the frequencies it can use, just to double check whether they're the ones used in England, 900 and 1800. If your phone can handle both of those, you're set to use the services of any provider in England. If your phone only has one of those numbers listed, you can still use it, you'll just need to choose a provider that works primarily on that bandwidth.
Choosing a Cell Phone Provider
The providers I've heard about the most over here are T-Mobile (UK), Orange, and Vodaphone. O2 is supposed to be very popular as well, but maybe not in East Anglia where I am. T-Mobile and Orange operate primarily on the 1800 frequency, and Vodaphone operates on 900. (No idea for O2.) Even if you don't purchase your service directly through one of these companies, you'll most likely be using one of their networks; the smaller guys make deals to use the existing networks because they can't afford to put up the infrastructure of their own. Since the smaller companies don't always make it clear which network they use for your service, you might as well get your service directly from T-Mobile, Orange, or Vodaphone, so you know what frequency your service will be before you buy.
Coverage, of course, is another issue. You won't find a totally honest coverage map online; everyone claims to get service everywhere, but of course in the countryside you'll have dead zones in some areas. If you want to be sure to get the right service for your area, when you reach your destination in England, look for an option in your phone (in the settings menu) for "network selection" to "search services" or labeled something similar to that. That will pull up a list of networks available in your area, so you can go out and purchase one of those services.
SIM Cards and Unlocking Your Phone
When you purchase a UK cell phone (mobile phone) service, really what you're buying is a SIM card, a little piece of plastic with a chip in it that contains data about your service plan. SIM cards represent, in my opinion, the genius of GSM. I really like having a SIM card because it separates the phone and the service attached to it, cutting out some dependence on the service provider. For example, if I get a new GSM phone, all I have to do to switch service from my old phone to the new one is to pull out the chip and put it in the new phone. Ta dah! I can also save data onto the SIM card, so contact numbers and other data can move to the new phone as well. For CDMA services, unless things have changed recently, I'd have to go into a store or use a different phone to call the service provider and get them to activate service on the new phone for me. CDMA carriers have to be personally involved in their customers' phone decisions, because the phone is inseparable from the service.
Separating the phone from the service in GSM also means you can use different services in the same phone by switching out the SIM cards. New SIM card, new service, same cell phone. The only catch is that most cell phone providers really don't want you do switch out of their service, so if you buy a phone from them, they lock it so it only reads their SIM card. There are places online where you can buy an unlock code for your phone, but if you've had an account with your provider for a certain amount of time (90 days is pretty standard), your provider is legally obligated to provide you an unlock code upon request, for free. Look up their conditions, request an unlock code per their instructions (usually you call or send an email), and they'll send you a code and instructions for unlocking your phone. Then any SIM card will work in it!
When to Buy
Unless you plan to be in England for longer than a few months, you probably want to get a prepaid service, buying minutes as you need them instead of agreeing to a contract and paying a monthly fee.
If you look online, you'll find several places willing to sell you a prepaid SIM card for UK service. Aimed at travelers, these sites will accept a US billing address and ship your SIM to you so you can have everything in place before you leave. Don't buy it. I strongly recommend purchasing your UK service after you get to the UK. Two main reasons:
1. Service and SIM card costs. Pay-as-you-go (prepaid) phone services are much more common here in the UK than in the States. This means that there is much more competition, so ultimately it's less expensive to get them. You can get SIM cards here absolutely free, only paying for minutes to put on them, while these online places only give you a pittance of minutes for the price you pay. The rest of the cost can sometimes go towards side benefits, like free incoming calls (which might be worth it to you) or slightly lower per-minute rates, but often UK services have side benefits too, so mostly you're just paying for the convenience of having the SIM card sent to you before you leave the country.
Note: If you're concerned about having cell phone use during your journey and until you secure UK service, check out your current provider's website and look at information for international roaming. Usually there's a free service feature you can add to your account (over the phone or online) that allows you to use your phone, at international roaming rates, while you're abroad. These rates will be horrendous, of course, but at least you will have service until you can get a UK SIM card.
2. Fixed vs. variable exchange rate. Getting a SIM card and service through one of these online places forces you to exchange your dollars for pounds through them at their fixed rates. For example, at Cellular Abroad you have to pay $19 for 5 pounds of talk time credit. Not even when the dollar was at its weakest this year was the exchange rate 4:1! If you buy a UK service and pay directly in pounds, your bank or credit card company handles the exchange from pounds to dollars, and their rates will vary as the standard exchange rate varies.
The only downside of purchasing a UK pay-as-you-go service that I've noticed is that I can't buy more minutes online, since I won't be here long enough to have a UK billing address. But prepaid phones are so common here that I can top up my minutes at the cash register of almost any store or at any ATM, so that hasn't been much of an inconvenience at all.
Enjoy Your New Service
After doing all that research and prep-work, you should be able to reap your reward and have good cell phone coverage. Now you have no excuse not to call your mother and tell her all about your travels!
For a quick review, here are the steps (in order) for getting all set to use your cell phone in England:
1. Check if your phone is GSM and tri- or quad-band. If it's CDMA, you'll have to rent or buy a new phone and service. If it's GSM but doesn't carry multiple bandwidths, see if you're due for an upgrade; maybe you could get one for free.
2. Add international roaming, or whatever your provider calls it, to your account, so you can use your phone if needed before you purchase a UK service. To be safe, do this a month before you leave in case it becomes effective only at the start of the next (monthly) billing cycle.
3. Unlock your phone. Allow for at least a day for your service provider to send you the unlock code, and then maybe another day or two for troubleshooting in the rare case it doesn't work.
4. When you arrive in England, select a service provider based on what's available in your area and what frequencies your phone can handle.
5. Buy the new SIM card and minutes, pop it in, and you're set! Keep the SIM card for your old service somewhere safe for your return to the States.
Friday, October 17, 2008
England Eights
I was reading a friend's blog, and she didn't tag me specifically to do this and pass it on, but I thought it would be fun to do my own set of eights. So, here goes!
8 TV (BBC) Shows I Love to Watch:
1. The Restaurant. It's a reality TV show with a bunch of couples competing to open a restaurant with Raymond Blanc. I love the ups and downs, the ridiculous challenges, and of course the food.
2. Masterchef: The Professionals. A bunch of semi-professional chefs competing for the title of Masterchef (and a great job afterward). The season finished a few weeks ago, though, which makes me sad.
3. Strictly Come Dancing. It's the British version of Dancing with the Stars, and I've gotten into it. I used to really dislike ballroom, but it's growing on me.
4. Merlin. It's a cheesy-ish family drama-type show about teenage Merlin trying to get along with teenage Arthur and learn magic and such. Enjoyable fluff.
5. Fawlty Towers. Finally I'm surrounded by people who know and love this show! The funny thing is, here everyone knows it but it's never on the air. In the States, few people know about it but it actually is broadcast on PBS every once in a while.
6. LazyTown. A kid's show I've caught a couple of times and laughed heartily about. Aimed to encourage exercise, the hero of the show is Sportacus, and his favorite things to eat are sports candy, i.e. fruits and vegetables. Bright, manic (in a sporty way), and containing catchy pop songs.
7. The World's Strictest Parents. Another reality TV show, in which spoilt British teens (yes, American teens aren't the only ones!) are sent to very strict households in different countries like India, Ghana, and Jamaica. So fun to laugh at their nonplussed reactions ("Chores? Ew!") and to see them get a change of attitude.
8. The Eggheads. A game show on about the time I start making dinner, in which a team of trivia masters compete against challenging teams of regular joes. I like seeing if I can get the questions right.
Note: If you want to check them out, you can find most of these BBC shows on the BBC iPlayer.
8 Things That Happened Yesterday:
1. Rode on a double-decker bus. So fun, especially since the roads here are so narrow; when you're sitting at the front you feel like you're going to crash into the buildings across the street when you turn corners!
2. Walked along the river Cam and crossed a bridge over it (thus, Cambridge).
3. Bought a Cambridge University hoodie at the open-air marketplace, so now I look like a student, haha.
4. Looked at the chapel at King's College. So beautiful!
5. Had a good chat with a friend who used to live in the ward back home (Sis. Lund). She's the one who took me out to Cambridge, for which I'm very grateful.
6. Went to institute and, for the first time in my institute experience, there were more guys than girls there.
7. Took a nap on my couch.
8. Did some writing, of course!
8 Favorite Places to Eat:
1. The Ship Inn, in Dunwich (pronounced "Dannich"). It's near the coast (falling into it more year by year, actually), so you can get really fresh fish and chips there. Yummy!
2. Indian restaurants. Chicken tikka masala is pretty much a staple of the English diet these days. I really enjoyed the Indian food I had in Bath.
3. Marketplace stalls. On market days in Bury St. Edmunds (Wednesdays and Saturdays), I like to get a little something from a snack shack (that's what I say, can't remember what the Brits call them) to eat while I wander around looking at all the stalls and goods. Usually I get a little cheeseburger. The Brits usually don't put anything in with the meat and cheese than caramelized onion and condiments, which I thought was interesting. Still pretty tasty.
4. Pret a Manger. An extremely green restaurant, focusing on soups and sandwiches to take away or eat in. I think I've mentioned it before. I like their focus on pure, fresh ingredients, and I've enjoyed everything I've had there.
5. At home. It's nice to have time to cook and my own kitchen to do it in. Saves money!
Places I really miss:
6. Wendy's. Or rather, going to Wendy's with Vanessa and Lisa!!
7. Cafe Rio, my I've-had-a-crappy-day,-I'm-eating-out place.
8. The Olive Garden, the old classic family treat.
8 Things I Am Looking Forward To:
1. Stake conference this weekend.
2. Getting rides to institute for a couple more weeks with new friends.
3. Seeing some more sights with Rachel the week before I leave.
4. Having breakfast at the B&B with Mark and Kay Dewsbury, now such good friends.
5. Arriving at the airport in Albuquerque, having survived customs, flights, security, and heavy luggage.
6. Having my car back. Oh Honda-San, I miss you so . . .
7. Thanksgiving and Christmas at home!
8. Finishing this manuscript!!
8 Things on My Wish List:
1. The exchange rate to be better between dollars and pounds sterling. Sigh.
2. More motivation and self-discipline.
3. Hero of Ages, the last Mistborn book. I gotta know how it ends!
4. Two or three people to sing a cappella with me. I love the sound of tight harmonies a cappella, and I miss my singing roommates and friends.
5. Time and means to finish/spruce up my dollhouse back home.
6. A completed manuscript and an interested publisher to hand it to.
7. Better posture.
8. A kitten!
8 TV (BBC) Shows I Love to Watch:
1. The Restaurant. It's a reality TV show with a bunch of couples competing to open a restaurant with Raymond Blanc. I love the ups and downs, the ridiculous challenges, and of course the food.
2. Masterchef: The Professionals. A bunch of semi-professional chefs competing for the title of Masterchef (and a great job afterward). The season finished a few weeks ago, though, which makes me sad.
3. Strictly Come Dancing. It's the British version of Dancing with the Stars, and I've gotten into it. I used to really dislike ballroom, but it's growing on me.
4. Merlin. It's a cheesy-ish family drama-type show about teenage Merlin trying to get along with teenage Arthur and learn magic and such. Enjoyable fluff.
5. Fawlty Towers. Finally I'm surrounded by people who know and love this show! The funny thing is, here everyone knows it but it's never on the air. In the States, few people know about it but it actually is broadcast on PBS every once in a while.
6. LazyTown. A kid's show I've caught a couple of times and laughed heartily about. Aimed to encourage exercise, the hero of the show is Sportacus, and his favorite things to eat are sports candy, i.e. fruits and vegetables. Bright, manic (in a sporty way), and containing catchy pop songs.
7. The World's Strictest Parents. Another reality TV show, in which spoilt British teens (yes, American teens aren't the only ones!) are sent to very strict households in different countries like India, Ghana, and Jamaica. So fun to laugh at their nonplussed reactions ("Chores? Ew!") and to see them get a change of attitude.
8. The Eggheads. A game show on about the time I start making dinner, in which a team of trivia masters compete against challenging teams of regular joes. I like seeing if I can get the questions right.
Note: If you want to check them out, you can find most of these BBC shows on the BBC iPlayer.
8 Things That Happened Yesterday:
1. Rode on a double-decker bus. So fun, especially since the roads here are so narrow; when you're sitting at the front you feel like you're going to crash into the buildings across the street when you turn corners!
2. Walked along the river Cam and crossed a bridge over it (thus, Cambridge).
3. Bought a Cambridge University hoodie at the open-air marketplace, so now I look like a student, haha.
4. Looked at the chapel at King's College. So beautiful!
5. Had a good chat with a friend who used to live in the ward back home (Sis. Lund). She's the one who took me out to Cambridge, for which I'm very grateful.
6. Went to institute and, for the first time in my institute experience, there were more guys than girls there.
7. Took a nap on my couch.
8. Did some writing, of course!
8 Favorite Places to Eat:
1. The Ship Inn, in Dunwich (pronounced "Dannich"). It's near the coast (falling into it more year by year, actually), so you can get really fresh fish and chips there. Yummy!
2. Indian restaurants. Chicken tikka masala is pretty much a staple of the English diet these days. I really enjoyed the Indian food I had in Bath.
3. Marketplace stalls. On market days in Bury St. Edmunds (Wednesdays and Saturdays), I like to get a little something from a snack shack (that's what I say, can't remember what the Brits call them) to eat while I wander around looking at all the stalls and goods. Usually I get a little cheeseburger. The Brits usually don't put anything in with the meat and cheese than caramelized onion and condiments, which I thought was interesting. Still pretty tasty.
4. Pret a Manger. An extremely green restaurant, focusing on soups and sandwiches to take away or eat in. I think I've mentioned it before. I like their focus on pure, fresh ingredients, and I've enjoyed everything I've had there.
5. At home. It's nice to have time to cook and my own kitchen to do it in. Saves money!
Places I really miss:
6. Wendy's. Or rather, going to Wendy's with Vanessa and Lisa!!
7. Cafe Rio, my I've-had-a-crappy-day,-I'm-eating-out place.
8. The Olive Garden, the old classic family treat.
8 Things I Am Looking Forward To:
1. Stake conference this weekend.
2. Getting rides to institute for a couple more weeks with new friends.
3. Seeing some more sights with Rachel the week before I leave.
4. Having breakfast at the B&B with Mark and Kay Dewsbury, now such good friends.
5. Arriving at the airport in Albuquerque, having survived customs, flights, security, and heavy luggage.
6. Having my car back. Oh Honda-San, I miss you so . . .
7. Thanksgiving and Christmas at home!
8. Finishing this manuscript!!
8 Things on My Wish List:
1. The exchange rate to be better between dollars and pounds sterling. Sigh.
2. More motivation and self-discipline.
3. Hero of Ages, the last Mistborn book. I gotta know how it ends!
4. Two or three people to sing a cappella with me. I love the sound of tight harmonies a cappella, and I miss my singing roommates and friends.
5. Time and means to finish/spruce up my dollhouse back home.
6. A completed manuscript and an interested publisher to hand it to.
7. Better posture.
8. A kitten!
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Turned a Corner
Just a quick update in the writing arena. I actually haven't gotten a whole lot of writing done yet on this trip. Part of it is that I've been taking every opportunity to see and do things here. I'm in England! If someone offers to take me to Cambridge for the day, or give me a lift to Bury on market days, can I say no? Sure can't! Even if I don't get much written when I'm off touring, being here has helped me to better understand and picture the setting for my story.
Other part is, I've been stuck. I admit it. I've had a hard time bringing myself to the computer to get writing done, and I couldn't figure out why for the longest time. I've been worried that I'm just not cut out to be a writer, that I'm too lazy. Well, sometimes I am lazy. But I realized about a week ago that there were some really important underlying things, plot-wise, that I needed to figure out. I've slowed down because I was rushing up to a big, pivotal scene with little to no motivational undergirth. Then after that scene, I had only nebulous ideas of what was going to happen, plot points to be reached in random, unconnected order.
Well, I took some time to figure things out, and I started writing. Not story, but notes. Wow did that help. For the past two days I've been scribbling and typing down thoughts and wandering around the flat in a daze, twisting and turning ideas around, playing and replaying different scenes in my head. I have pages and pages of notes now, and half a dozen beautiful background stories that almost certainly won't make it to the final version, but they're stories that I had to know, so I could understand each character's viewpoint and acting motivation for this big scene and what follows afterward. I now have a fairly solid plot outline, and just like for the first part of the story, I can see it breaking down in order for me to write, scene after scene. And I'm excited to write again!
Bottom line is, if you can't write the story, write about the story. Just keep writing! I have turned a corner, and this week I'll really fill some pages.
Other part is, I've been stuck. I admit it. I've had a hard time bringing myself to the computer to get writing done, and I couldn't figure out why for the longest time. I've been worried that I'm just not cut out to be a writer, that I'm too lazy. Well, sometimes I am lazy. But I realized about a week ago that there were some really important underlying things, plot-wise, that I needed to figure out. I've slowed down because I was rushing up to a big, pivotal scene with little to no motivational undergirth. Then after that scene, I had only nebulous ideas of what was going to happen, plot points to be reached in random, unconnected order.
Well, I took some time to figure things out, and I started writing. Not story, but notes. Wow did that help. For the past two days I've been scribbling and typing down thoughts and wandering around the flat in a daze, twisting and turning ideas around, playing and replaying different scenes in my head. I have pages and pages of notes now, and half a dozen beautiful background stories that almost certainly won't make it to the final version, but they're stories that I had to know, so I could understand each character's viewpoint and acting motivation for this big scene and what follows afterward. I now have a fairly solid plot outline, and just like for the first part of the story, I can see it breaking down in order for me to write, scene after scene. And I'm excited to write again!
Bottom line is, if you can't write the story, write about the story. Just keep writing! I have turned a corner, and this week I'll really fill some pages.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Goodbye, Paris; Hello, Bath!
Okay, so you've seen the pictures, but I realized that I forgot to specify that this trip replaced the one I was planning to Paris. I had planned to take a trip to Paris through the Eurostar railways the week of September 22, but two weeks before leaving, there was a fire in the channel tunnel (chunnel) that these trains went through. I kept up with the news, and trains were going through just a few days later, but a week before the scheduled trip, I got an email stating that the tour was canceled with a full refund. Paris was out!
I moped about it for a bit. It is hard to be here without transportation of my own, and trying to arrange all my sightseeing alone, and I'd been looking forward to seeing Paris and having an arranged, guided tour. But then I remembered that I'd been considering Bath as a side-trip. I found out that the month of September was Bath's Jane Austen Festival. That was the clincher. After a few minutes of looking at the tourism website for Bath, I knew that's where I wanted to go.
There were really too many coincidences to ignore. I hadn't bought train tickets to London or booked a hotel for the Paris trip, so I didn't have that to worry about. With the refunded money, I was able to spend an extra day in Bath that I wouldn't have had in London or Paris. I found a hotel in Bath, close to the city center and not too expensive, and was able to book even though it was a little last-minute.
I had felt overwhelmed about trying to arrange a replacement trip to Paris, but I felt calm about finding my way to Bath. I was nervous about the trip, but I caught every train and boarded the right tube line in the right direction. I had a wonderful, busy few days in Bath, and I took every opportunity I could to see what could be seen there.
And there was a lot to see!
The Hotel and Bath Routine
I stayed in a tiny single room at the Kennard Hotel bed and breakfast. There was a sink in the room, but the toilet and shower were down a flight of stairs and shared with the person in the other single room. I knew about this before I checked in, but it was still a little strange. The shower stall was so tiny, if I'd been a little fatter I would've had to hold my breath to stay in. The room itself was narrow and small, but well and carefully furnished, and perfectly adequate for my needs. I was paying for the location close to the city center, and not for a huge room. (They had those too, for much steeper prices.)
Every morning I had breakfast around 8:30 in the gorgeous dining room in the basement (you have to go up or down several flights of stairs to get anywhere indoors in Bath). It had been the kitchens of the building in Georgian times, and still had the inset structure where the fireplaces had been, but that was the only reminder. It was painted bright teal and decorated very prettily, but I kind of wished I could admire it invisibly, because every time I walked in I felt like a tall, weedy, American thumb sticking way out. The tables and chairs were so small and crowded that I found it extremely awkward getting my long legs around them. Eating there by myself did nothing to lessen my self-consciousness, but the hostess was very polite and never spoke above a demure murmur, and quickly learned to just offer me hot chocolate.
The actual breakfast wasn't as good or fancy as the decor, but decent. And I learned that posh people don't say "ketchup," they say "tomato chutney."
Nothing in town opens until about 10 a.m., so after breakfast I'd go back to my room and write or figure out what I wanted to see that day. Then I'd head out, get lunch at midday, and come back at 5 p.m., when everything closes. The restaurants don't open for dinner until 6 or 6:30 p.m., so that was an hour to put my feet up, write some more, look over the souvenirs, etc. Then I'd go out for dinner, get back around 8 p.m., watch some TV (I'm addicted to The Restaurant), and get to bed.
If you're interested in night life, Bath isn't the place for you; it was very quiet where I was after 9 or 10 p.m. Since "night life" often means "drunken carousing" here, I didn't miss that. I didn't see many children or young adults around at all, but school was in session, so they were probably there (suckas!). There were a lot of old people though; the old people do a lot of touring here while most of the young people I've talked to don't have their own car or, astonishingly, don't even have a driver's license.
Touring
I had two full days in Bath, so I tried to break it up evenly between tours and museums and just exploring on my own and looking into shops. I took a free, two-hour walking tour, which I highly recommend, around the city center, then a boating tour on the river Avon, which I don't recommend because it was very boring. If you ever go, just sit by the river near Pulteney Bridge and the weir; that's the most exciting part the tour covers. I visited the museum at the Jane Austen Center, the Victoria Art Gallery, and then loads of interesting little shops.
The next day I set up an appointment to take pictures in Georgian costume as part of the Jane Austen Festival, so that afternoon I went up to the highest floor of the center to get dressed up. The ladies working with the costumes were very professional, they had long racks of gorgeous dresses and jackets and such. The photographer was . . . less professional. But it was okay; I had a good camera and some of the shots turned out, haha.
Then I took the tower tour in Bath Abbey, climbing some 212 steps to the very top, stopping in between to visit the bell room, the belfry, behind the clock, and the lower roof. That was really neat! The Abbey itself, with all its stained glass, was also very lovely.
After that, I went to the museum at Number 1 Royal Crescent, which was a house all furnished and decked out as it would have been in Georgian times, a lot like Mount Vernon. A docent stood in each room of the house to explain what everything was and how it was used. After all these Georgian museums, it was really interesting (refreshing!) to go to the Roman Baths, which focused on the Roman history of Bath and the hot springs that made Bath famous. I wasn't expecting the Roman Baths museum to be so large, so I kinda squeezed it in my last morning, but it was really neat.
The only thing I regret is not seeing Sally Lunn's famous "refreshment house" and museum. Supposedly it's the oldest house in Bath, and the restaurant is famous for a certain kind of bun. Maybe next time!
Eating Out
The hotel didn't have a restaurant, so for lunch and dinner I hit the town. There weren't many casual dining places, but Pret a Manger was the best I found (loved the chicken avocado sandwich!). Other than that, I ate at a French restaurant, a Thai, and two Indian ones. I looked around for a nice, fish-and-chips joint (and . . . no, I haven't been brave enough to enter a pub by myself), but couldn't find one, so I've yet to have a decent fish-and-chips meal! This will be remedied soon.
Eating out in England was a little different. I've mentioned here and elsewhere that water was hard to come by. Every restaurant I went in had a pretty long wine list and the waiters all looked taken aback when I simply requested water. That wasn't a big deal, though; the harder part was that British/European culture values privacy in dining a lot more than Americans, i.e., the waiters leave you alone as much as possible. Too shy to just talk to people in the street, I was kinda looking forward to conversation with the servers at dinner, but no go. In America, your waiter will give you a little speech telling you who they are and welcoming you to the restaurant, and if they walk by and don't fill up your drink, that's grounds for lowering the tip. Here, the servers don't speak unless spoken to, and if you want something (like a refill of your drink) you need to hold out your hand and snag someone. I was sitting in a restaurant once and watched a lady come in. The head waiter just looked at her, watching her glance around for a free table or a clue of what to do, and didn't speak or move until she tentatively said, "Uh, I'd like to . . . eat . . . here . . . ?"
I knew it was a cultural thing, they didn't hate me or anything, but I still felt extra lonely and exposed whenever I dined out. It was okay, but I'd definitely recommend not going it alone if you possibly can. On the plus side, tips here are just 10%, and often optional.
All in all, Bath was a lot of fun. Plenty to do and see, and history everywhere you turn. I'm glad that I went!
I moped about it for a bit. It is hard to be here without transportation of my own, and trying to arrange all my sightseeing alone, and I'd been looking forward to seeing Paris and having an arranged, guided tour. But then I remembered that I'd been considering Bath as a side-trip. I found out that the month of September was Bath's Jane Austen Festival. That was the clincher. After a few minutes of looking at the tourism website for Bath, I knew that's where I wanted to go.
There were really too many coincidences to ignore. I hadn't bought train tickets to London or booked a hotel for the Paris trip, so I didn't have that to worry about. With the refunded money, I was able to spend an extra day in Bath that I wouldn't have had in London or Paris. I found a hotel in Bath, close to the city center and not too expensive, and was able to book even though it was a little last-minute.
I had felt overwhelmed about trying to arrange a replacement trip to Paris, but I felt calm about finding my way to Bath. I was nervous about the trip, but I caught every train and boarded the right tube line in the right direction. I had a wonderful, busy few days in Bath, and I took every opportunity I could to see what could be seen there.
And there was a lot to see!
The Hotel and Bath Routine
I stayed in a tiny single room at the Kennard Hotel bed and breakfast. There was a sink in the room, but the toilet and shower were down a flight of stairs and shared with the person in the other single room. I knew about this before I checked in, but it was still a little strange. The shower stall was so tiny, if I'd been a little fatter I would've had to hold my breath to stay in. The room itself was narrow and small, but well and carefully furnished, and perfectly adequate for my needs. I was paying for the location close to the city center, and not for a huge room. (They had those too, for much steeper prices.)
Every morning I had breakfast around 8:30 in the gorgeous dining room in the basement (you have to go up or down several flights of stairs to get anywhere indoors in Bath). It had been the kitchens of the building in Georgian times, and still had the inset structure where the fireplaces had been, but that was the only reminder. It was painted bright teal and decorated very prettily, but I kind of wished I could admire it invisibly, because every time I walked in I felt like a tall, weedy, American thumb sticking way out. The tables and chairs were so small and crowded that I found it extremely awkward getting my long legs around them. Eating there by myself did nothing to lessen my self-consciousness, but the hostess was very polite and never spoke above a demure murmur, and quickly learned to just offer me hot chocolate.
The actual breakfast wasn't as good or fancy as the decor, but decent. And I learned that posh people don't say "ketchup," they say "tomato chutney."
Nothing in town opens until about 10 a.m., so after breakfast I'd go back to my room and write or figure out what I wanted to see that day. Then I'd head out, get lunch at midday, and come back at 5 p.m., when everything closes. The restaurants don't open for dinner until 6 or 6:30 p.m., so that was an hour to put my feet up, write some more, look over the souvenirs, etc. Then I'd go out for dinner, get back around 8 p.m., watch some TV (I'm addicted to The Restaurant), and get to bed.
If you're interested in night life, Bath isn't the place for you; it was very quiet where I was after 9 or 10 p.m. Since "night life" often means "drunken carousing" here, I didn't miss that. I didn't see many children or young adults around at all, but school was in session, so they were probably there (suckas!). There were a lot of old people though; the old people do a lot of touring here while most of the young people I've talked to don't have their own car or, astonishingly, don't even have a driver's license.
Touring
I had two full days in Bath, so I tried to break it up evenly between tours and museums and just exploring on my own and looking into shops. I took a free, two-hour walking tour, which I highly recommend, around the city center, then a boating tour on the river Avon, which I don't recommend because it was very boring. If you ever go, just sit by the river near Pulteney Bridge and the weir; that's the most exciting part the tour covers. I visited the museum at the Jane Austen Center, the Victoria Art Gallery, and then loads of interesting little shops.
The next day I set up an appointment to take pictures in Georgian costume as part of the Jane Austen Festival, so that afternoon I went up to the highest floor of the center to get dressed up. The ladies working with the costumes were very professional, they had long racks of gorgeous dresses and jackets and such. The photographer was . . . less professional. But it was okay; I had a good camera and some of the shots turned out, haha.
Then I took the tower tour in Bath Abbey, climbing some 212 steps to the very top, stopping in between to visit the bell room, the belfry, behind the clock, and the lower roof. That was really neat! The Abbey itself, with all its stained glass, was also very lovely.
After that, I went to the museum at Number 1 Royal Crescent, which was a house all furnished and decked out as it would have been in Georgian times, a lot like Mount Vernon. A docent stood in each room of the house to explain what everything was and how it was used. After all these Georgian museums, it was really interesting (refreshing!) to go to the Roman Baths, which focused on the Roman history of Bath and the hot springs that made Bath famous. I wasn't expecting the Roman Baths museum to be so large, so I kinda squeezed it in my last morning, but it was really neat.
The only thing I regret is not seeing Sally Lunn's famous "refreshment house" and museum. Supposedly it's the oldest house in Bath, and the restaurant is famous for a certain kind of bun. Maybe next time!
Eating Out
The hotel didn't have a restaurant, so for lunch and dinner I hit the town. There weren't many casual dining places, but Pret a Manger was the best I found (loved the chicken avocado sandwich!). Other than that, I ate at a French restaurant, a Thai, and two Indian ones. I looked around for a nice, fish-and-chips joint (and . . . no, I haven't been brave enough to enter a pub by myself), but couldn't find one, so I've yet to have a decent fish-and-chips meal! This will be remedied soon.
Eating out in England was a little different. I've mentioned here and elsewhere that water was hard to come by. Every restaurant I went in had a pretty long wine list and the waiters all looked taken aback when I simply requested water. That wasn't a big deal, though; the harder part was that British/European culture values privacy in dining a lot more than Americans, i.e., the waiters leave you alone as much as possible. Too shy to just talk to people in the street, I was kinda looking forward to conversation with the servers at dinner, but no go. In America, your waiter will give you a little speech telling you who they are and welcoming you to the restaurant, and if they walk by and don't fill up your drink, that's grounds for lowering the tip. Here, the servers don't speak unless spoken to, and if you want something (like a refill of your drink) you need to hold out your hand and snag someone. I was sitting in a restaurant once and watched a lady come in. The head waiter just looked at her, watching her glance around for a free table or a clue of what to do, and didn't speak or move until she tentatively said, "Uh, I'd like to . . . eat . . . here . . . ?"
I knew it was a cultural thing, they didn't hate me or anything, but I still felt extra lonely and exposed whenever I dined out. It was okay, but I'd definitely recommend not going it alone if you possibly can. On the plus side, tips here are just 10%, and often optional.
All in all, Bath was a lot of fun. Plenty to do and see, and history everywhere you turn. I'm glad that I went!
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
The Best of Bath
I spent three days in Bath during the last week of September and had a wonderful time. There's so much to see there, it's impossible to do it in three days, let alone ten minutes, but nevertheless, here's a photo tour of what I saw.
You can pause the slideshow and just view them one at a time if you wish, and you can turn off the captions (since some of them are long) if you'd like by clicking on the green icon that looks like a square speech bubble.
You can pause the slideshow and just view them one at a time if you wish, and you can turn off the captions (since some of them are long) if you'd like by clicking on the green icon that looks like a square speech bubble.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
A Walk Around the Village
My home base for the rest of this stay in England is in a little village in East Anglia called Beyton. There are loads of these tiny villages all over the place. I'm staying in a self-accommodating flat attached to a bed and breakfast. I don't get free breakfasts, but I have a fully-equipped kitchen so I don't have to go to restaurants for every meal. I'm used to having my own bedroom, but for this trip I have an entire apartment all to myself, and I am LOVING it.
The proprietors of the bed and breakfast, M. and K. Dewsbury, are very helpful and kind, and since they're right next door we see each other often. They drive into Bury St. Edmunds (a larger town nearby) two or three times a week, and often I go with them. I'll definitely be posting more about Bury St. Ed's in the next few weeks.
Also, I attend the Bury St. Edmunds Ward and have been enjoying new friendships with Church members. This ward is about half British, half American, because a lot of US Air Force personnel live within the ward boundaries, which is nice because I appreciate being among fellow Americans, but weird at the same time because people assume I'm connected with the military, and everyone is so used to Americans coming and going that it's easy to be overlooked. Again, I'll be writing more about Church activities and such as the weeks pass.
Right now I want to show you how beautiful the English countryside is. In spite of transportation difficulties, I really wanted to stay in the country and soak up the greenery of England's fields and forests. There's a circular walk that makes almost a figure eight loop around the village, and I went and took a bunch of pictures. So, want to go on a walk around the village with me? Come along!
The proprietors of the bed and breakfast, M. and K. Dewsbury, are very helpful and kind, and since they're right next door we see each other often. They drive into Bury St. Edmunds (a larger town nearby) two or three times a week, and often I go with them. I'll definitely be posting more about Bury St. Ed's in the next few weeks.
Also, I attend the Bury St. Edmunds Ward and have been enjoying new friendships with Church members. This ward is about half British, half American, because a lot of US Air Force personnel live within the ward boundaries, which is nice because I appreciate being among fellow Americans, but weird at the same time because people assume I'm connected with the military, and everyone is so used to Americans coming and going that it's easy to be overlooked. Again, I'll be writing more about Church activities and such as the weeks pass.
Right now I want to show you how beautiful the English countryside is. In spite of transportation difficulties, I really wanted to stay in the country and soak up the greenery of England's fields and forests. There's a circular walk that makes almost a figure eight loop around the village, and I went and took a bunch of pictures. So, want to go on a walk around the village with me? Come along!
Sunday, September 14, 2008
With the Camerons
It was raining when I left Heathrow with the Camerons, of course. I can't think of anything that the English have apologized to me most for, which is funny because it's the thing I was most expecting. I told them I brought rain with me to Albuquerque, so I might as well bring rain to England too.
As I mentioned before, I. and V. Cameron were friends with my parents when we were over here in the 80s. Over the years, they kept in contact—mostly through Christmas newsletters. Before I flew to England, I read over a stack of these newsletters to get to know the Camerons a little better before I met them. I. spent most of his life at sea one way or another (once even as captain of a cruise ship), so I. and V. had many seafaring adventures. V., an artist, wrote about the beautiful places they'd been to, including Scotland, where they lived for a few years. I was excited to get to know these well-traveled folks, and I was able to amaze them with my knowledge of their children's names and such.
Driving home from the airport with the Camerons was my first experience with British roads. It was a little strange to sit in the front left seat and not be driving, but I got used to it quickly. The stranger thing was how small all the cars and trucks were, and how narrow and winding some of the roads got to be. One of the country roads we went on was only wide enough for one lane, though there were little pockets of wider spaces where one car could wait for another to pass by the other direction. I'm sure the roads are narrow because most of them were made by horse-driven vehicles hundreds of years before. Just evidence of how old everything is here; the roads themselves may be narrow, but history cuts a huge swath through everything.
The Camerons have a lovely little house in the country, with farming fields all around and a river in the distance that V. said was clogged with sailboats during the peak of summer. There were so many things I wanted to take a closer look at in their little village, especially an old church and a bright red telephone booth. The most fascinating thing about seeing the village and the Camerons' house was that, in a strange way, England was exactly how I imagined it would be. Smaller houses, old churches, gravestones blackened and worn, moss and scrubby bushes, flowers hanging from windowboxes, sharp-peaked rooftops . . . things that I'd seen in various BBC movies and TV shows and never quite believed. It's not contrived, really; it's really like that over here. That amazed me.
I stayed awake as long as I could, thinking that it would be better for me to crash in the evening so I'd sleep all night instead of crash at midday and wake up bright and fresh at two in the morning. I made it until about 5:00 pm, keeping myself busy showering, exploring the Camerons' beautiful garden (that's what the first pic is), and making friends with their dog and two cats, and then we had dinner and I went upstairs to bed.
Fifteen hours later I woke up, feeling much better. This was the view from my bed.
By then it was Friday, which felt strange. Time had collapsed, mashing Wednesday and Thursday together.
I went to Tesco with V. in the morning. That was a rather strange experience; I was still feeling surreal about being in a different country and hearing the different sound of voices, and the grocery store was a huge panorama of the same kind of fare that you'd find in the US (mostly), but presented and packaged very differently. I felt a little like the man in The Little Old Man Who Could Not Read. I hadn't realized it before, but I do depend quite a lot on the shapes of the packaging to tell me what a thing is at the store. Fortunately, I can read and English is my native language, so I'm not totally lost in grocery stores here. Just takes me a little longer.
Tesco, I found out, is regarded a bit like WalMart is in the US. It's become a bit of an "everything" store that likes to take over. It's success is based on low prices, like WalMart, and some British people turn their noses up at it just like some do to WalMart in the States (including me, admittedly). Sainsbury's is supposed to be higher brow as far as grocery stores go, and since my current ride for grocery shopping goes to Sainsbury's, I've joined the snobs and go there too.
Later we went to the center of Ipswich. I. and V. told me not to worry, they knew Ipswich was ugly, but Bury St. Edmunds was much prettier. I was nonplussed by these apologies, because Ipswich (at least the part I saw) was amazing. It was raining, so everything was a little darker, but somehow that enhanced the look of it, gave everything a polished sheen. The dark gray and black cobblestones shone against dark cherry wood, white, or colorful facades of buildings. There were beautiful decorative moldings, posts, and box windows, evidence everywhere of craftsmen from ages long past. At the very center of town the roads were closed to cars, but there were dozens of people walking around, in and out of shops, even in the rain.
Just before we headed home, we stopped at McDonald's. The Camerons told me that they'd had exchange students from a couple different countries stay with them, and the one thing they were very familiar with was McDonald's. It's apparently the common tongue; the great equalizer, gastronomically. I actually hadn't had McDonald's for a long time, but I enjoyed my Big Mac with chips. Still need to get a genuine fish and chips meal.
I. and V. told me about the Ipswich Ward and life with the Air Force back when my parents were there. They took me out for a drive near the old base, which was closed down a year or two after my dad was transferred to Albuquerque. They told me how sad they were to see all their American friends go. The buildings stood vacant for ten or fifteen years and have only in the last few years been remodeled for use as part of a new residential area. It was neat to think that, as we drove by the old AFB housing and I wondered whether I had lived in any of these little houses, I have a tiny piece in this area's history. We drove through a forest area near the base where a UFO is supposed to have landed. "Your dad didn't tell you about that?" said Bro. Cameron. (Nope, he sure didn't.) We would have walked around the forest a bit, but it rained pretty heavily the whole time.
It went by so fast. The next morning the Camerons were heading to Scotland to see their grandson's ordination to the priesthood, so we all got up early and I. and V. dropped me off at my flat in Beyton. We exchanged hugs and promises to see each other again before I went back home.
Figuring things out on my own has been the hardest part about this whole trip, but I've been amazed by and grateful for the kindness I've received from so many people here, beginning with the Camerons. I've always had someone looking after me. Finding friends here has been my favorite part of coming to England, by far.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Crossing the Pond
Yep, I know I've been in England a week, so this is long in coming. To compensate, it's long in content too. Not a lot of pictures this time, since my camera was packed away for most of these events, but never fear, I'll be posting more pics soon!
At Home
I arrived at home in ABQ on Saturday evening, then had three days with the sibs before catching the plane on Wednesday. There were only three kids at home, since Mom and Dad went to an old, family cabin in Arizona for Labor Day weekend.
Being the eldest sister and, for many years, the default family babysitter, I expected to fill that role again while I was home. It's a hard role sometimes, but it has its perks. To my surprise, my sister Sam, who's nearly seventeen, took charge at dinner the first couple nights, and everyone pitched in to run the day-to-day chores, and I scarcely had to do a thing. It was a little disorienting to realize that my younger siblings aren't children anymore and don't need to be babysat at all. They're gaining that mature characteristic of looking around, recognizing work that needs doing, and doing it. It's exciting to watch my brothers and sisters grow up.
So I didn't babysit, but I did spend some time being a good listener.
This is the face of a broken heart. The vial of bubbles seemed to help a bit.
Before long it was time to fly out of the country. Of course, I didn't sleep well the night before, then got up at 5:00 am to take the two high schoolers to seminary. (Oh man am I glad I don't have to do early-morning seminary anymore.) I got a little more sleep after I dropped them off at school, but then the hours flew by and it was time to head to the airport.
A Day at the Airports
I got to the airport nice and early (thanks to some family friends for the ride!), checked my bags and DIDN'T have to pay the checking fees because it was an international flight (YAY!!), got through security without a hitch, and didn't have to wait too long before boarding the plane and taking off.
An older couple from Michigan had the seats next to mine; they had just finished visiting their grandchildren (they showed me a picture). The grandmother, who was sitting next to me, asked where I was going, and of course wanted to know what I would be doing in England. I've spent almost two months answering these questions, and I feel rather selfish talking about myself all the time. But once I say the word "England," people want to know all about it and it's no use trying to sidetrack them into something about themselves. Oh well. I collected another promise to read my book, anyway; she asked me my name and repeated it to herself, reminding herself to look for it on the shelves. Who knows, maybe in a year or so she'll be scanning the cover of my book, trying to remember why the author's name seems familiar.
I have no idea how many of the people I talk to actually will read this book of mine when/if it is published, but sometimes I'm surprised how earnestly people tell me they'll keep an eye out for it in the bookstores or who want me to send them a copy. Is it just the polite thing to say to a prospective author? Do they simply want to wish me well, or do they want a tiny bit of the glory, to be able to say, "I knew this girl when . . ."? Maybe both? I wonder what I'd say to a person like myself.
Anyway, the first part of the trip, the flight to Chicago, went well. I felt rather cramped in my seat, but I told myself it was only a couple hours. I looked out the window and peeked at the book the grandmother next to me was reading, Nineteen Minutes. The kid in the story killed himself by stuffing a sock down his throat. I turned back to look outside at the clouds.
After we landed, making it through the Chicago O'Hare airport was the next hurdle. The place is huge. International flights took off from the farthest terminal, which I had to take a shuttle/train to get to. I had to ask two different people for directions to the place, and the second one was a guy at the information desk, who handed me the directions on a slip of paper (I guess I wasn't the first person to be confused). I collected another promise to read my book from a baggage handler who waited with me at the shuttle stop. Made it to the terminal (by then the shoulder straps of my duffel bag and laptop were digging hard into my shoulders), tried to find signs directing me to my gate.
I quickly came up to the security checkpoint. I figured I'd already been through once, so there had to be a way for people on continuing flights to skip through. I looked for a way around, but there was none. Maybe I'd come the wrong way? Whether or not that was the case, the quickest way onward would be going through security again. I'd been fine with once, but a second time made me feel surly. I was tired and sweaty in the humid airport air, but I pulled off my shoes, took off my carry-on bags, yanked my laptop out to go in a separate bin, and waited for the security officer to wave me through the metal detector. Passed just fine, just like the first time. This is idiotic, I thought as I tried to get my stuff together again.
Once I got through, I wasn't too disgruntled to notice the difference between this terminal and the others I'd flown through in my lifetime. It was the international terminal, so there were people from all over the world walking by, speaking in their native languages in groups. Mostly Indians; I noticed several flights going to India. They all looked about how I felt: nervous, excited, a little lost, and very tired. The shops just beyond the security checkpoint echoed the international feel of the place, offering duty-free goods (perfume and wine, mostly) and an international variety to the still ridiculously expensive food.
I was hungry, but I figured I'd find my gate and then see what shops were nearby to choose from, so I made my way down the terminal. My heart sank as I realized, from the signs, that my flight was taking off from the farthest possible gate. How far could that be? Probably a mile, no joke. After the checkpoint I had stupidly decided to sling my duffel bag around my neck to one side and my laptop around the other side, and now as I walked the straps were creeping up both sides of my neck. I thought that if I didn't reach my gate soon I would either collapse or be decapitated. And then, to my chagrin, there were no more shops after the first hundred yards, but by the time I admitted defeat there I was closer to my gate than the shops, so I pushed on and finally made it to the gate. I fell into an open chair and breathed for a few minutes.
Then it was time to check in with the folks. It was nice to talk to someone (especially Mom and Dad); traveling alone is hard. One of the hardest parts is that, if you're dumb like me and brought heavy, non-rolling carry-on luggage, you don't have anyone to sit with it while you go to the restroom or get food. After I hung up, I was still hungry and the shops were still a mile back. Being tired is one thing, getting the shakes from not eating is much worse. So there was nothing for it. I took a minute to steel myself, then headed back down the terminal with my bags, bought a sandwich, and walked back as quickly as I could. Took half an hour, and it was not fun. The sandwich wasn't too bad though.
Flying by Night
The trans-atlantic part of my flight was through British Airways, and they were very gracious. Maybe it was just me, but I was glad to be away from the stinginess of American airlines. This was my first contact of the trip with actual British people, and I admit I felt a little giddy to hear the flight attendants speaking in English and Scottish accents as we boarded.
Each seat had a packet on it that included a blanket, socks, headphones, a toothbrush and paste, etc., and there was a small TV screen on the back of each seat. I admit, this was what I was really excited about: watching movies during my flight. The person with the seat next to mine ended up being a young American woman, like me, who was on her way back to grad school at the University of Exeter, studying Shakespeare. I told her what I was up to, and we were mutually slightly jealous of each other, but we got along great.
I had chosen a window seat, excited at the prospect of seeing the ocean as we flew over it, but I ended up having the shutter closed most of the time. We weren't over the ocean until after sunset, and then all I could see was clouds anyway. The thought of flying over the ocean was a little scary, but the flight didn't feel different from any other I'd been on—just longer. Actually, if I closed my eyes I could easily pretend I was sitting in the family van on a road trip.
The entertainment experience was fun. There was a nice selection of movies I could watch. I started watching Out of Africa, then got bored with the sparse, artsy dialog (and boring subject matter). There was a weird glitch with the screen for a little while, so it couldn't play video on demand, but then it restarted so I chose Kung Fu Panda. In between all this, they served a very nice hot dinner (I had salmon with pasta and green beans), and then in the morning a tasty croissant with butter/jam and orange juice.
The only downside of the flight was that there was a very long-legged man sitting right behind me, who obviously felt he didn't have enough space. He kept moving around, kneeing me in the back, and then when he got up to use the bathroom he elbowed me in the head in his haste to get out of his seat. I understand the sufferings of long-legged people, but goodness sakes, leave other people alone about it.
I was tired and tried to sleep a bit, largely without success. Just can't fall asleep in a sitting position. It was alright, though; adrenaline kicked in as we landed, and it was light outside, so I was awake enough to make my way through the airport.
Heathrow
Actually, the airport terminal was apparently too crowded for us to park there, so the plane let us off somewhere else nearby. Two shuttle buses took everyone through a maze of airport byways to a side door of the terminal. I stopped to use the filthiest public bathroom I've ever seen, picked up my luggage, then followed the signs and the crowds to the border crossing checkpoint.
The checkpoint was interesting. I'd been prepared for the experience: a friend told me that the British customs people were particularly anxious to make sure you left Britain again as soon as possible. Wouldn't want any immigration taking place. The officer I talked to asked me all kinds of random, probing questions. "What was your father's first job?" "Do you squeeze your toothpaste from the bottom or the middle?" "How many grandchildren do you anticipate having?" Okay, not those particularly, but almost. I answered her questions, but I wondered how much of it was really her business to know.
I got through in a few minutes, then headed onward, excited now because I was almost done. A crowd was gathered beyond the last barrier to welcome new arrivals, and right in the middle of them was a couple holding a sign with my name on it, smiling broadly when I appeared—the Camerons. The last time they saw me, when my dad was in England serving in the US Air Force, I was three years old, but apparently I look so much like my mom that they recognized me instantly. They welcomed me with hugs and in a few minutes I was walking with them to their car, tired, dazed, but very happy.
I was in England!
At Home
I arrived at home in ABQ on Saturday evening, then had three days with the sibs before catching the plane on Wednesday. There were only three kids at home, since Mom and Dad went to an old, family cabin in Arizona for Labor Day weekend.
Being the eldest sister and, for many years, the default family babysitter, I expected to fill that role again while I was home. It's a hard role sometimes, but it has its perks. To my surprise, my sister Sam, who's nearly seventeen, took charge at dinner the first couple nights, and everyone pitched in to run the day-to-day chores, and I scarcely had to do a thing. It was a little disorienting to realize that my younger siblings aren't children anymore and don't need to be babysat at all. They're gaining that mature characteristic of looking around, recognizing work that needs doing, and doing it. It's exciting to watch my brothers and sisters grow up.
So I didn't babysit, but I did spend some time being a good listener.
This is the face of a broken heart. The vial of bubbles seemed to help a bit.
Before long it was time to fly out of the country. Of course, I didn't sleep well the night before, then got up at 5:00 am to take the two high schoolers to seminary. (Oh man am I glad I don't have to do early-morning seminary anymore.) I got a little more sleep after I dropped them off at school, but then the hours flew by and it was time to head to the airport.
A Day at the Airports
I got to the airport nice and early (thanks to some family friends for the ride!), checked my bags and DIDN'T have to pay the checking fees because it was an international flight (YAY!!), got through security without a hitch, and didn't have to wait too long before boarding the plane and taking off.
An older couple from Michigan had the seats next to mine; they had just finished visiting their grandchildren (they showed me a picture). The grandmother, who was sitting next to me, asked where I was going, and of course wanted to know what I would be doing in England. I've spent almost two months answering these questions, and I feel rather selfish talking about myself all the time. But once I say the word "England," people want to know all about it and it's no use trying to sidetrack them into something about themselves. Oh well. I collected another promise to read my book, anyway; she asked me my name and repeated it to herself, reminding herself to look for it on the shelves. Who knows, maybe in a year or so she'll be scanning the cover of my book, trying to remember why the author's name seems familiar.
I have no idea how many of the people I talk to actually will read this book of mine when/if it is published, but sometimes I'm surprised how earnestly people tell me they'll keep an eye out for it in the bookstores or who want me to send them a copy. Is it just the polite thing to say to a prospective author? Do they simply want to wish me well, or do they want a tiny bit of the glory, to be able to say, "I knew this girl when . . ."? Maybe both? I wonder what I'd say to a person like myself.
Anyway, the first part of the trip, the flight to Chicago, went well. I felt rather cramped in my seat, but I told myself it was only a couple hours. I looked out the window and peeked at the book the grandmother next to me was reading, Nineteen Minutes. The kid in the story killed himself by stuffing a sock down his throat. I turned back to look outside at the clouds.
After we landed, making it through the Chicago O'Hare airport was the next hurdle. The place is huge. International flights took off from the farthest terminal, which I had to take a shuttle/train to get to. I had to ask two different people for directions to the place, and the second one was a guy at the information desk, who handed me the directions on a slip of paper (I guess I wasn't the first person to be confused). I collected another promise to read my book from a baggage handler who waited with me at the shuttle stop. Made it to the terminal (by then the shoulder straps of my duffel bag and laptop were digging hard into my shoulders), tried to find signs directing me to my gate.
I quickly came up to the security checkpoint. I figured I'd already been through once, so there had to be a way for people on continuing flights to skip through. I looked for a way around, but there was none. Maybe I'd come the wrong way? Whether or not that was the case, the quickest way onward would be going through security again. I'd been fine with once, but a second time made me feel surly. I was tired and sweaty in the humid airport air, but I pulled off my shoes, took off my carry-on bags, yanked my laptop out to go in a separate bin, and waited for the security officer to wave me through the metal detector. Passed just fine, just like the first time. This is idiotic, I thought as I tried to get my stuff together again.
Once I got through, I wasn't too disgruntled to notice the difference between this terminal and the others I'd flown through in my lifetime. It was the international terminal, so there were people from all over the world walking by, speaking in their native languages in groups. Mostly Indians; I noticed several flights going to India. They all looked about how I felt: nervous, excited, a little lost, and very tired. The shops just beyond the security checkpoint echoed the international feel of the place, offering duty-free goods (perfume and wine, mostly) and an international variety to the still ridiculously expensive food.
I was hungry, but I figured I'd find my gate and then see what shops were nearby to choose from, so I made my way down the terminal. My heart sank as I realized, from the signs, that my flight was taking off from the farthest possible gate. How far could that be? Probably a mile, no joke. After the checkpoint I had stupidly decided to sling my duffel bag around my neck to one side and my laptop around the other side, and now as I walked the straps were creeping up both sides of my neck. I thought that if I didn't reach my gate soon I would either collapse or be decapitated. And then, to my chagrin, there were no more shops after the first hundred yards, but by the time I admitted defeat there I was closer to my gate than the shops, so I pushed on and finally made it to the gate. I fell into an open chair and breathed for a few minutes.
Then it was time to check in with the folks. It was nice to talk to someone (especially Mom and Dad); traveling alone is hard. One of the hardest parts is that, if you're dumb like me and brought heavy, non-rolling carry-on luggage, you don't have anyone to sit with it while you go to the restroom or get food. After I hung up, I was still hungry and the shops were still a mile back. Being tired is one thing, getting the shakes from not eating is much worse. So there was nothing for it. I took a minute to steel myself, then headed back down the terminal with my bags, bought a sandwich, and walked back as quickly as I could. Took half an hour, and it was not fun. The sandwich wasn't too bad though.
Flying by Night
The trans-atlantic part of my flight was through British Airways, and they were very gracious. Maybe it was just me, but I was glad to be away from the stinginess of American airlines. This was my first contact of the trip with actual British people, and I admit I felt a little giddy to hear the flight attendants speaking in English and Scottish accents as we boarded.
Each seat had a packet on it that included a blanket, socks, headphones, a toothbrush and paste, etc., and there was a small TV screen on the back of each seat. I admit, this was what I was really excited about: watching movies during my flight. The person with the seat next to mine ended up being a young American woman, like me, who was on her way back to grad school at the University of Exeter, studying Shakespeare. I told her what I was up to, and we were mutually slightly jealous of each other, but we got along great.
I had chosen a window seat, excited at the prospect of seeing the ocean as we flew over it, but I ended up having the shutter closed most of the time. We weren't over the ocean until after sunset, and then all I could see was clouds anyway. The thought of flying over the ocean was a little scary, but the flight didn't feel different from any other I'd been on—just longer. Actually, if I closed my eyes I could easily pretend I was sitting in the family van on a road trip.
The entertainment experience was fun. There was a nice selection of movies I could watch. I started watching Out of Africa, then got bored with the sparse, artsy dialog (and boring subject matter). There was a weird glitch with the screen for a little while, so it couldn't play video on demand, but then it restarted so I chose Kung Fu Panda. In between all this, they served a very nice hot dinner (I had salmon with pasta and green beans), and then in the morning a tasty croissant with butter/jam and orange juice.
The only downside of the flight was that there was a very long-legged man sitting right behind me, who obviously felt he didn't have enough space. He kept moving around, kneeing me in the back, and then when he got up to use the bathroom he elbowed me in the head in his haste to get out of his seat. I understand the sufferings of long-legged people, but goodness sakes, leave other people alone about it.
I was tired and tried to sleep a bit, largely without success. Just can't fall asleep in a sitting position. It was alright, though; adrenaline kicked in as we landed, and it was light outside, so I was awake enough to make my way through the airport.
Heathrow
Actually, the airport terminal was apparently too crowded for us to park there, so the plane let us off somewhere else nearby. Two shuttle buses took everyone through a maze of airport byways to a side door of the terminal. I stopped to use the filthiest public bathroom I've ever seen, picked up my luggage, then followed the signs and the crowds to the border crossing checkpoint.
The checkpoint was interesting. I'd been prepared for the experience: a friend told me that the British customs people were particularly anxious to make sure you left Britain again as soon as possible. Wouldn't want any immigration taking place. The officer I talked to asked me all kinds of random, probing questions. "What was your father's first job?" "Do you squeeze your toothpaste from the bottom or the middle?" "How many grandchildren do you anticipate having?" Okay, not those particularly, but almost. I answered her questions, but I wondered how much of it was really her business to know.
I got through in a few minutes, then headed onward, excited now because I was almost done. A crowd was gathered beyond the last barrier to welcome new arrivals, and right in the middle of them was a couple holding a sign with my name on it, smiling broadly when I appeared—the Camerons. The last time they saw me, when my dad was in England serving in the US Air Force, I was three years old, but apparently I look so much like my mom that they recognized me instantly. They welcomed me with hugs and in a few minutes I was walking with them to their car, tired, dazed, but very happy.
I was in England!
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
The First Leg
I was actually more worried about the ten-hour drive to Albuquerque than I was/am about the however-many-hour flight to England coming up tomorrow. I've made the drive several times before, but this was the first time by myself.
Actually, it was no sweat! I forgot that almost every other time I've driven this route, it's been icy and snowing. Last Christmas I drove through a couple of total white-outs. (Never again, I tell you. Never.) It was so much more relaxing to drive on lovely, clear, summer roads. In fact, I felt so confident that I deviated from my accustomed course and went through Durango, which was gorgeous. Only had to turn around once.
The biggest help, gotta say, was a book on CD that my grandma let me borrow. So much better for distraction than music. By the end of the trip I felt more relaxed than I usually did in past trips with other people taking turns at the wheel. Thanks, Grandma!
I've had fun spending a few days with the fam, and tomorrow I head out to England, arriving Thursday morning, their time. All my stuff is strewn across the living room, and I feel like my brain is divided into that many pieces as I try to gather what I'll need for the next two months. So much to do!
Actually, it was no sweat! I forgot that almost every other time I've driven this route, it's been icy and snowing. Last Christmas I drove through a couple of total white-outs. (Never again, I tell you. Never.) It was so much more relaxing to drive on lovely, clear, summer roads. In fact, I felt so confident that I deviated from my accustomed course and went through Durango, which was gorgeous. Only had to turn around once.
The biggest help, gotta say, was a book on CD that my grandma let me borrow. So much better for distraction than music. By the end of the trip I felt more relaxed than I usually did in past trips with other people taking turns at the wheel. Thanks, Grandma!
I've had fun spending a few days with the fam, and tomorrow I head out to England, arriving Thursday morning, their time. All my stuff is strewn across the living room, and I feel like my brain is divided into that many pieces as I try to gather what I'll need for the next two months. So much to do!
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
The Big Questions
I graduated from college two years ago, and like many of my fellow graduates, proceeded to get myself a nice, full-time job and integrate right in with corporate adult society.
This week I'm leaving my job and my country for a two-month trip to England.
FAQ
Why?
I've always wanted to be a writer (well, since I got over the ballerina phase), and I've been writing a book since about the sixth grade. It's been several different books through the years, mind you, and I never actually finished one, but I filled a lot of notebooks and it was always my intention to go for publication one day.
I started working on this particular book back in high school; I wrote a preface and a rough draft of the first chapter or two. I was in the middle of something else then, so I didn't do much on this particular story until I needed a project for a creative writing class (geared specifically toward sci-fi and fantasy, which is what I write) near the end of college. (For other fantasy geeks out there, Brandon Sanderson taught the class. Aren't you jealous?) The class required ten pages of writing per week, so I got a substantial amount of writing done for this story, and it evolved in a really fascinating way. Since I graduated, though, I really haven't worked on it like I should. Frankly, it's hard to come home from a full-time job and then work some more on the book. I know that if I really want to be an author, I need to write every day.
Well, going to England has been another life-long goal of mine. British lit to 1500 was my favorite college class, and I'm interested in medieval history generally, because most fantasy works are set in a medieval-England-ish setting. So voila, going to England becomes an opportunity for inspiration and research for my writing.
I decided that I needed to take some time to finally finish this story and to see England, and this fall seemed the best time to do it.
What's your story about?
Um, it's a fantasy, so it involves fantasy-type things, like a quest, a hero (heroine in this case), good vs. evil, monsters, kingdoms, prophecies and chosen ones, etc. I like a character focus, so it's more of a heroic fantasy, a bildungsroman of sorts. The story is complicated (like most epics are) but most importantly, it's unfinished, so I won't do a comprehensive synopsis here. You'll just have to buy it when it comes out (wink wink)!
Can I read your drafts?
I appreciate the interest, and I love getting feedback on my work, but I've learned to keep my group of readers as small as possible, and I already have a few people who are threatening murder if I don't send them more of this story soon. I think you would really rather read the wonderful, polished-up, published version of the story anyway, right?
Where are you staying?
In East Anglia, in a tiny village in the middle of the country, fairly close to Ipswich. I'm staying in a "self-catering flat," which is UK lingo for a fully furnished apartment (with dishes and linens and such included).
Isn't it expensive over there?
Yeah. I've done research on costs for things and worked it all out, and I've been saving for a very long time.
So . . . no London?
My plane will arrive and depart from London, and I'll spend some time there before and after a quick trip to Paris, but I'm not really interested much in London. I'm not a big city kind of girl; I'm much more interested in rolling, green hills and old castles, etc. It's funny to me, though, how often people make this mental connection that I'm staying in London.
What will you do once you get back?
Nothing settled on that score, no idea, really. I'll be staying at home with the fam until I figure that out. It will become important very quickly to find a job. We'll see how everything rolls once I've survived this trip.
Can I come with you?
Sure, why not.
Are you excited?
Yes.
This week I'm leaving my job and my country for a two-month trip to England.
FAQ
Why?
I've always wanted to be a writer (well, since I got over the ballerina phase), and I've been writing a book since about the sixth grade. It's been several different books through the years, mind you, and I never actually finished one, but I filled a lot of notebooks and it was always my intention to go for publication one day.
I started working on this particular book back in high school; I wrote a preface and a rough draft of the first chapter or two. I was in the middle of something else then, so I didn't do much on this particular story until I needed a project for a creative writing class (geared specifically toward sci-fi and fantasy, which is what I write) near the end of college. (For other fantasy geeks out there, Brandon Sanderson taught the class. Aren't you jealous?) The class required ten pages of writing per week, so I got a substantial amount of writing done for this story, and it evolved in a really fascinating way. Since I graduated, though, I really haven't worked on it like I should. Frankly, it's hard to come home from a full-time job and then work some more on the book. I know that if I really want to be an author, I need to write every day.
Well, going to England has been another life-long goal of mine. British lit to 1500 was my favorite college class, and I'm interested in medieval history generally, because most fantasy works are set in a medieval-England-ish setting. So voila, going to England becomes an opportunity for inspiration and research for my writing.
I decided that I needed to take some time to finally finish this story and to see England, and this fall seemed the best time to do it.
What's your story about?
Um, it's a fantasy, so it involves fantasy-type things, like a quest, a hero (heroine in this case), good vs. evil, monsters, kingdoms, prophecies and chosen ones, etc. I like a character focus, so it's more of a heroic fantasy, a bildungsroman of sorts. The story is complicated (like most epics are) but most importantly, it's unfinished, so I won't do a comprehensive synopsis here. You'll just have to buy it when it comes out (wink wink)!
Can I read your drafts?
I appreciate the interest, and I love getting feedback on my work, but I've learned to keep my group of readers as small as possible, and I already have a few people who are threatening murder if I don't send them more of this story soon. I think you would really rather read the wonderful, polished-up, published version of the story anyway, right?
Where are you staying?
In East Anglia, in a tiny village in the middle of the country, fairly close to Ipswich. I'm staying in a "self-catering flat," which is UK lingo for a fully furnished apartment (with dishes and linens and such included).
Isn't it expensive over there?
Yeah. I've done research on costs for things and worked it all out, and I've been saving for a very long time.
So . . . no London?
My plane will arrive and depart from London, and I'll spend some time there before and after a quick trip to Paris, but I'm not really interested much in London. I'm not a big city kind of girl; I'm much more interested in rolling, green hills and old castles, etc. It's funny to me, though, how often people make this mental connection that I'm staying in London.
What will you do once you get back?
Nothing settled on that score, no idea, really. I'll be staying at home with the fam until I figure that out. It will become important very quickly to find a job. We'll see how everything rolls once I've survived this trip.
Can I come with you?
Sure, why not.
Are you excited?
Yes.
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