26 Monday May 2014
It’s Abbey’s birthday today! Your sisters, Blossom and Buttercup, miss you terribly! We hope that you’re having a wonderful birthday celebration and our wish is that we three can be reunited soon.
I know we keep saying this but yes, we will come visit you in Canada. We love you, Abbey! 🙂
Abbey, the art admirer.
Abbey, the zen master.
Abbey, the Egyptian?
Abbey, our Aphrodite.
09 Thursday May 2013
That’s the Great UK Adventure to you. To celebrate it, how about a little reminiscing?
We’re okay to go! We’re okay to go!
The day Abbey and I left for London was actually May 7, and I call it Day 0, for the simple reason that all that happened that day was the flight to London via Qatar Airways. Day 1 was really May 8, our arrival in London, but nothing much also happened that day since, aside from getting lost looking for Carlton Hotel and eating lunch at Burger King upon landing, all we really did was wait for Giselle to arrive at King’s Cross station. Day 2 was May 9, 2012, and that’s exactly a year from now (well, minus a few hours since we are 7 hours ahead and we really didn’t start our day until around 8 am roundabout).
Anyway, as I was looking through my files, I saw a document which I apparently wrote at Doha International Airport during our layover before heading for London. I never got to publish it as a blog entry for some reason, and the thing is abruptly incomplete, but heck, I think it’s as good as any to serve today’s needs to remember the day that was.
Waiting at Doha International Airport, freshly powdered and all.
12 mn, Doha time: Abbey and I are currently at Doha International Airport for our 3 hour layover before our 8 hour flight for Heathrow. Nice, DIA, very nice. Free wi-fi too! Very clean and passenger-friendly airport, I must say.
The 9 hour journey from Manila to Doha was uneventful (not that I expected anything unusual to happen, no). The meals were good (I had chicken adobo for dinner. Abbey had cream dory. Then for the hot meals I had braised beef, ube cake, the usual bread and butter combo, fruits and complimentary drinks), and the starter snacks were unnecessary, at least for me (they gave us almonds after take-off).
*brief intermission–somebody from the airport asked Abbey and I to write our feedback about our flight experience with Qatar Airways. There’s a raffle of some sort for two free round trip long-haul tickets. Well that’s very nice too! I told her I’m actually blogging about the experience right now, hahaha. I just need to send my feedback to http://www.AirSatisfaction.com and then we’ll see if the Fates are with me on this draw.
The cabin crew of flight QR 647 was very attentive to our needs as well. I never had to ask for anything extra since the drinks and the meals were right when I wanted them.
How about the in-flight entertainment? Well we had a good choice of films, so hurrah! Abbey and I watched the Woman in Black since we’ve never seen it before (we weren’t scared at all), and Mission: Impossible-Ghost Protocol. Abbey hasn’t seen it and I suggested we watch it together. Loved it the first time, loved it this 2nd time (we both practically jumped out of our seats during Ethan Hunt’s building climbing scare). I also had the chance to catch up on season 2 of Blue Bloods. As for music, they’ve got everything. From AC-DC to Yo-Yo Ma. From Adele to Mozart. I also listened to some classical music to help me catch some zzzzzs. Not very successful, though, since I actually enjoyed listening to Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, Beethoven’s 9th, Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 11 in K 331, some songs from our current pop artists I threw in the mix, plus a few Queen classics (Somebody to Love, anybody?), The Clash’s London Calling (just because), and finished it off with the Beatles’ Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da. Now my LSS is all about Desmond and Molly and their kids. Fabulous!
Thanks to the free wi-fi, waiting for the continuation of our journey isn’t that bad at all, no sir. The seats are comfy (not those awful, hard, metallic seats, thank heavens), the temperature is quite cool, and the WCs are, well, comfortable (as they should be).
And that was that. Told you it ends quite abruptly. I think the 3 hour layover was not enough for me to blog, and go around the place looking for the ladies’, and eat my snacks, and chat with Abbey, and people-watch, of course.
And then, after the 8 hour flight to London, we’ve arrived!
Doha to London is 3236.85 miles in all.
Upon landing, Abbey and I got lost looking for our B&B (hilariously, now that I have the benefit of hindsight for Carlton Hotel was just literally, a stone’s throw away from King’s Cross station where we got off straight from Heathrow airport). But all’s well that ends well.
Bright smiles to complement the sunny (and super cool!) weather in front of Carlton Hotel. Photo courtesy of Abbey.
And after a few hours of waiting, Giselle finally is with us!
The Charmed Ones are back together. Photo courtesy of Giselle.
First full day in London, that’s May 9, 2012 was jam-packed. And when I say jam-packed, I mean absolutely exhausting. We had an early breakfast at our B&B, and it was your typical English buffet breakfast: free-flowing everything! Toast, jam, coffee, ham, tomatoes, eggs, sausages, and beans.
Post-breakfast smiles. We had no idea as to how the day would turn out.
And then, the day really started.
In the middle of the Great Court inside the British Museum.
And we saw the Fates! Well no, not really.
Hestia, Dione and Aphrodite take the backseat in favor of three Pinay goddesses.
After many hours of walking and more walking inside the cavernous museum, we had a late lunch, of course.
Looking for a place to eat. Photo courtesy of Abbey.
Pinays eating Italian in England. Photo from the files of Abbey.
Frist day fish and chips. Photo courtesy of Abbey.
And then we’re off again!
Wind-blown and soaking wet at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Photo by Giselle.
Crossing the Millenium Bridge. Photo from Abbey’s files.
Guess where we are and what we’re looking at? Hint: We’re looking at the month-long schedule of performances at. . .
. . . Shakespeare’s Globe! Photo from Abbey’s files.
In the middle of the throng waiting for Johnny Depp at the London premiere of Dark Shadows at Leicester Square. Photo by Giselle.
At Piccadilly Circus trying to score three el cheapo West End tickets. Photo by Abbey.
At the Lyceum Theatre for The Lion King. Photo by Giselle.
Waiting for Simba.
And that’s that. I told you it was a jam-packed day, and it ended around 11 pm. We weren’t even able to grab a decent dinner, egads! It was a wonder we survived that grueling first day.
But as they always say, it was just the beginning. More in the days to come. . . .
09 Saturday Mar 2013
Posted in Cornwall, photography, travel, UK
Tags
Antoine Terrace, clotted cream, Cornwall, kynance cove, Land's End, Lizard Cove, minack theatre, Newlyn, Penzance, Porthcurno, Shakespeare, St. Ives, st. michael's mount
It’ll be almost a year since our epic UK adventure and I have yet to blog or post photos about the places I’ve been even before I met up with Abbey and Frankie. This is the perfect Saturday afternoon to do this…otherwise, I might never get to do it!
Like I’ve said before, I brought a journal with me so I could take down notes every night on my 6-week holiday. Boy, has it been a huge help! Looking at my notes makes me smile as it brings back memories of sun, sea, friendships and boundless adventures!
Picking up from where I left off, here’s more on my trip to Cornwall. I apologise if this is going to sound like entries in a diary.
Our home for a week.
April 17: St. Michael’s Mount
From Antoine’s Terrance, you can see St. Michael’s Mount in the distance. To get here, you can either travel by boat or if the tide is low, you can walk across the causeway. Today was rough seas and we had several bursts of rain throughout the day.
My friends say you haven’t experienced Cornwall until you’ve had Cornish pasties (and also clotted cream, but not at the same time) and I got to taste my very first pasty here at St. Michael’s Mount. I also downed an espresso to keep me awake. See, I was still fighting jetlag and clearly losing the battle. When we got home at around 5PM, I still fell asleep!
In the evening, Christine cooked dinner and she even made maruya (banana fritters)! Tonight we played Monopoly and I have proven to myself and I truly suck at Monopoly.
April 18: Land’s End and Minack Theatre
We had a late start to the day which was good since I slept at 3AM. I still haven’t gotten over my jetlag. This is only my second day here after all. On today’s agenda was Minack Theatre. AMAZING! Rowena Cade is a goddess. You’d have to have been there to understand fully what I mean. Imagine building an open-air theatre on the side of a granite cliff! As we were exploring the place and checking out the museum, I thought of Frankie. I would love to take her here! One day, I tell you, one day I’ll come back with Frankie and Abbey in tow. 🙂
I wore a dress today which was not a very smart thing to do considering how cold and windy it was outside! But my nearly frozen hands were not going to prevent me from taking photos.
After Minack Theatre, we headed to Land’s End. This is the southern-most tip of the UK. The winds were stronger and colder here but I pulled through. Note to self, it’s okay to wear a dress but don’t forget to wear tights!
Next time, I’ll finish off my Cornwall entry with some photos from St. Ives, Kynance Cove, Lizard Point, and Penzance, and Castle Drogo.
29 Saturday Sep 2012
Posted in photography, travel, UK
Tags
There’s an epilogue to my entry earlier today. I’m still not finished with uploading but I have started editing some photos. Considering I was on holidays last April for 6 weeks and I’ve only uploaded 12 photos today from that epic adventure, you can only calculate how long it will take me to upload the rest!
Three empty airport lounge seats waiting to be filled by me, Frankie, and Abbey. (Photo taken at Bangkok airport, my stopover en route to London last April 15, 2012.)
But not all of my efforts today have been a waste. I’ve downloaded Aperture and have started my editing process. I’ve also included my Flickr Photostream here (see lower left sidebar). My work process has been an expensive one. For starters, I had to purchase Aperture. Then I realised that my Aurora’s memory was struggling and so I ordered a memory upgrade from Apple. And lastly, there was the dilemma of where to upload the photos. There’s Facebook, sure, but I can’t send that link to friends who don’t have Facebook. There’s also G+ but WordPress didn’t have a widget for it. Instead, there was Flickr. I had forgotten about my Flickr Pro account and so had to renew that too. I don’t even want to think about how much money I had to part with today. I suppose, all for the love of photography, eh?
Anyway, watch that Flickr space for more photos from The Great UK Adventure. Well, at least the ones from my camera. 😉
12 Sunday Aug 2012
Tags
Since tomorrow is what I consider to be my personal D-Day (work-wise, at least), post-MacG’s repairs (it took Apple over a month to repair the whole thing), I decided to do some major tidying this morning. Out with the junk I’ve accumulated for the past 7 months or so. And I have accumulated a lot of junk, believe me.
Typical of major cleanups, I was once again reunited with some stuff I am quite certain I will have difficulty parting ways with. I am no hoarder, oh no, but there are just some things that I cannot bring myself to throw away, no matter how trifling they may seem to another person.
Clockwise from Top left: My Sherlock Holmes’ deerstalker hat , conference program, maps and souvenir guides from Scotland, the Sherlock Museum, Alnwick castle, the WB Studio tour, Qatar Air tickets, national rail tickets, spreadsheets, National Gallery guide, map of St. Andrews, receipt from a shop at St. Andrews, map of Edinburgh.
Just look at the stuff I’ve kept from that Great U.K. Adventure a few months ago. Maps (you know how crazy I am when it comes to maps), train tickets, plane tickets, souvenir guides, even receipts from Information Centres where I bought loads of Scottish fudges and refrigerator magnets. . . . I’ve kept them all. If you look at the bottom part of the photo, you will see several pages worth of spreadsheets. Those were our three-week itinerary for both England and Scotland, our budget sheets on a daily basis, and my personal list of stuff to bring (down to the last pair of socks, yes). The photo doesn’t even show all the documents I had to bring with me: conference letters and schedule, visa requirements, bank transactions, official University memos and travel grant letters, and of course, several copies of my conference paper (I’m rigorous that way. I guess all academics are trained to be such).
I’ve decided to put everything inside a large Manila envelope for safekeeping. Who knows when I’ll need to go over some receipt or document once again, right? I have no plans of holding on to all these stuff forever, no.
It’s done.
Give me a few years, maybe. I mean, I still haven’t even thrown away all my junk from my first London escapade of ’07, believe me. Everything’s still well-hidden in my cabinet, ready for any trip down amnesia lane.
I guess this is me trying to bring back order into my life. The past 10 months had been crazy, what with all the writing and the research, the preparations and the fantasizing, the hassles of getting ready, the excitement and the jubilation that came naturally with all of it. . .and then the letting go once it was all over.
Until we meet again, my magical I.D.
I’ve been on an extended lag post-Adventure. Life hadn’t been normal. Well, tomorrow’s its comeback, whatever ‘normal’ really means. I just hope this is the last time I will be pining for a return to normalcy. Once everything is over, I am definitely leaving normal and will never look back. I can’t wait ’til everything is over and done with so I can come back to my magical life, the only life I am looking forward to living. Melodramatic much? Maybe. It’s the normal rearing its ugly head, I tell you. I’m not good at being normal.
24 Sunday Jun 2012
Tags
Alnwick Castle, B&Bs, cabin fever, Edinburgh, friendships, London, Paddington, The Elephant House, travel
Q: What would you get if you put three women with very different personalities on a hectic three-week holiday?
A: Cat fights. Bruised egos. Possibly, sabotaged wardrobes?
Happy campers, lazing about the Alnwick Castle grounds.
Thankfully, neither of my traveling buddies have big egos. And hopefully, they didn’t think I did either. Yes, we’ve been friends for a long time and are well aware of each others’ quirks and mood swings. We’ve also had many a sleepover at the AIM Conference Centre whenever I’m in Manila but this trip was the first time we’ve ever been around each other 24/7 for an extended period of time. It’s a fact that being in such close proximity could put a strain on even the strongest relationships. Just think Amazing Race but without the frantic running around (at least most of the time).
A well-fed Frankie is a happy Frankie. Having chicken and rice at a Chinese take-away shop in Paddington.
But there was something that Frankie had done that I believe helped us cohabitate harmoniously. Months before our trip, she wrote us an email outlining what she would be like as a traveling companion. We found out that it’s important to make sure she’s fed on time, among other things. Don’t make her hungry. You won’t like her when she’s hungry…
In turn, Abbey and I made our own lists. Being
Me want coffee at The Elephant House in Edinburgh! And I’ll have cake and eat it too.
forewarned of what we might be like as traveling buddies made it easy to adjust to each other. For me, it was important to always have coffee. If you didn’t want to starve Frankie, you didn’t want to deprive me of my early morning caffeine fix.
Of the three of us, Abbey was probably the most adaptable. Her one thing was that she’ll take the longest to shower and get dressed, but since we already knew that, we just had to make sure to give her plenty of time to prepare in the mornings. 😉
Freshening up at Bancroft Garden, Stratford-upon-Avon.
Did Abbey just punch Frankie outside Shakespeare’s Globe in London?!
I know most of you would be wondering: Surely they had little misunderstandings? Of course, we teased each other relentlessly on some days but it never came to the point that made us want to kill each other. I could be wrong, but I’ll let to girls clarify that. To be honest, I’m trying my very best to recall if I got irritated with either Frankie or Abbey. Or maybe a time when I got on their nerves. Only two instances come to mind and I don’t even know if they’ll remember these. The first one was on our way back to Edinburgh from our Rosslyn Chapel and Hadrian’s Wall tour. We had stopped at this town called Jedburgh. The town’s parking lot had free wi-fi and Frankie went off on her own and was Plurking away. Abbey and I went to the toilets but I came out first and just wandered mindlessly around the block. I didn’t think that Abbey would struggle to find us as we’d just been around the corner so when I asked where she’d been, she said something to the effect that we’d just taken off without telling her. I think that was the only time I heard her genuinely miffed. The second instance was when we were on Oxford Street and Abbey had to go buy some football memorabilia. I went with her to the shop while Frankie opted to go to a bookstore nearby. As soon as we descended into that sports shop, I wanted to get out. The smell of the plastic and rubber all around made me nauseous and I wanted to faint and throw up at the same time. I hastily told Abbey that was going to wait for her outside. I thought it would be a quick 10 minutes and she’d be done so that we’d have time to go clothes shopping but she took longer than expected and I was starting to get impatient. In hindsight, I should’ve just gone back down and told her I was going to another shop. And why I didn’t call her or text
Payback time. I think Frankie was trying to strangle Abbey at Alnwick Castle.
her, I don’t know. It would’ve prevented my being annoyed for a full 10 seconds. Thankfully, good sense took over and I rationalised that maybe the line at the register was long. Not wanting develop a sour mood – self-inflicted, I might add – I decided to amuse myself by people-watching. I saw a Hari Krishna group chanting as they went along. I smiled at other people standing around also waiting for friends until I was the only one left. Eventually, Frankie found me and we hung around for what seemed like another eternity. It was getting close to 5PM and by this time Frankie would be getting hungry. Finally Abbey emerged from the store. As it turns out, the register was broken and that caused the major delay.
Respecting her need for alone time but not her need to sleep in a quiet environment. Tee-hee.
Just a couple of jesters at Stratford-upon-Avon.
Ah, but pretty much every night, Abbey and I doubtless get on Frankie’s nerves. You see, Abbey and I like to stay up late and I mean very, very late. Some nights, we don’t sleep until well past 1AM and we talk and giggle and generally make some noise that would disturb Frankie’s slumber. How she managed to get a decent night’s sleep with us around, I don’t know. It was a good thing that she had her own little room when we were at Castlemount. At least she could close the door at night. Sure, we had to enter her room to get to the bathroom, but at least she got a little respite from our midnight giggling. 🙂
Teeth and claws bared at the British Museum. We’re Gryffindors, not catty b*tches. Rawr!
So did the claws come out at all? Personally, I don’t think so. Because when I’m friends with someone, I let things slide. (I can only pray they are forgiving of my shortcomings as well). Annoying little things are annoying, for sure and for someone like me who’s very set in my ways, it can be very difficult to adjust. But this trip has proved that it’s not because they’re my friends that I am tolerant of their shortcomings. It is precisely because they are my friends that I don’t see any shortcomings.
Cheers to friendship intact! Drinks at the New Moon Pub to celebrate Abbey’s birthday.
11 Monday Jun 2012
Tags
First trip to London in 2007.
There hasn’t been much movement at this blog but that doesn’t mean I haven’t stopped thinking about our recently concluded trip. In fact, I’ve been mulling over how I can pick my favourite photos and put them together as a slideshow. While I’m working that out in my head, I’m humming along to Jamie Cullum’s song. I don’t recall which came first, my hearing Jamie’s song or my first trip to London. Maybe it happened almost simultaneously, who knows? All I know is that the song represents how I see London too. I just love this song.
Jamie Cullum – London Skies live at North Sea Jazz 2009
Paint a picture,
Clear cut and pale on a cold winter’s day,
Shapes and cool light wander the streets like an army of strays,
On a cold winter’s day.
Will you let me romanticize,
The beauty in our London Skies,
You know the sunlight always shines,
Behind the clouds of London skies.
Patient moments chill to the bone under infinite greys,
Vision hindered mist settling low like a ghostly ballet,
On a cold winter’s day.
Nothing is certain ‘cept everything you know can change,
you worship the sun but now
can you fall for the rain…
Will you let me romanticize,
The beauty in our London Skies,
You know the sunlight always shines,
Behind the clouds of London Skies.
29 Tuesday May 2012
Tags
adventures, conference, friendship, signs, travel, UK, witches
*with apologies to that Shyamalan-Gibson movie*
Do you believe in signs? There was a time when I did, or at least when I thought I did, or when I thought I saw some. Hello, Ace of Base! That was the time when I used to read what the stars had to say for me, that’s horoscope for ya—on a daily basis, mind. Back when I was this bright-eyed, naive (yes, there was a time when I was), hopeful kind of a witch. Well, now I’m no longer bright-eyed (see my previous post about me being near-sighted), no longer naive (beware those who think I am), and less hopeful hag. See? Hag! Where’s the hope in that?
I don’t know what happened along the way, but yeah, I guess I have changed. Now I take things as they come. I no longer have big plans for this thing people call “the future” (whatever it is, I think it’s overrated). I’ve stopped making long-term goals. I’ve lost sight of the proverbial Grail. Why? Because I no longer see the point in believing that there was even one. The quest was futile, it always has been, so what’s the point?
This past month, or should I say, these past few months sort of changed the pointlessness of the quest.
Suddenly, there was a Quest.
And the quest was this Great UK Adventure with the girls.
Now before you roll your eyes to high heavens and exclaim, “oh no, not another emo entry!”, be reminded that I have never, EVER posted an emotional entry before. And I do not intend to start now, dear heavens no. I do intend to post something along the path of the strange and the uncanny, though. . . *rubs hands together in excitement*
Imagine this: when I submitted my abstract for the HP conference last year, I had no doubt about the whole thing. I was pretty sure it would be accepted. Fine, I am being immodest here, so go throw your tomatoes at me, I don’t care. But I am being honest. I expected to be accepted. I knew the quality and the value of my proposal and I’ve been doing this for quite sometime now so I know how things usually go. Not that I haven’t been rejected before, oh no. I have (one time, ages ago), and it was frustrating, but back then I was just a newbie at such things. But I bounced back from that and went forward from there.
What I was not expecting was the would-be company come May of 2012, though.
And what awesome company it was.
Again, imagine this: when I announced to the world (fine, at plurkverse) that I submitted an abstract to the Scotland Conference at the University of St. Andrews, Giselle (a.k.a. Buttercup, a.k.a. the Wicked Witch of the East) immediately dived in and said “tally-ho!” Alright, she didn’t exactly say that, but you get my point. She was game, in fact, even when I was still drafting my proposal. She wanted to join me in my Quest, and I already imagined how fun the whole thing is going to be.
Giselle the Witch in front of the playwright’s birthplace.
When I announced to the world (again, fine, you-know-where) that my proposal was finally accepted, imagine this yet again: Abbey (a.k.a. Bubbles, a.k.a. the Wicked Witch of the South) wanted to dive right in and reconfigure the duo into a trio! She only needed one plurk night to think about it, if I recall correctly. She laid it all out for Batman’s will. And Batman said it was fine, and so it was good.
We were finally a trio.
Fade up: How Soon Is Now? by the Smiths. Photo courtesy of Pru. Next to her is Phoebe, and to the right is Piper. Yeah, yeah.
I must say the preparation for this Great UK Adventure was not exactly a breeze. The writing of my entire paper was back-breaking. The research was absolutely overwhelming. And the UK visa application was another thing, right, Abbey? 😀 Oh those documents to read and to prepare. Those bank statements that had to be obtained. The money that needed to be saved.
But we did it.
The anticipation was thrilling. This blog, in fact, came about as a result of our combined excitement. We figured we just had to put all our thoughts and channel all our energies into something productive. Hence, the birth of the fates’ pensieve.
Our updates may have been erratic, but that’s because we were terribly busy preparing for the trip. We did write some interesting posts along the way, didn’t we?
And May arrived.
I will spare you the details (and believe me, the details would weigh a ton!) but I just have to say the whole set up was designed by the gods. No, by the Fates themselves! The whole gig was written in the stars!
First day of this epic trip, we (Abbey and I) got lost trying to locate the Carlton Hotel. Funny (now I can say it’s funny but back then, when we were freezing and exhausted and suffering from jetlag whilst dragging our luggage along the streets of London it was far from funny) but the Hotel was just right in front of King’s Cross Station, the very station where we exited, straight from Heathrow airport.
‘Tis Madness, I tell you!
Now what is so strange about that? This—–
Our hotel, apparently, is right beside, I mean literally just right beside St. Mungo’s. No, not a hospital thank the gods, but a shelter for the homeless if I remember it right (correct me if my pensieve is faulty, Gissy and Abbey). From King’s Cross to St. Mungo’s. How freakishly, amazingly canon is that? Or was it a sign of weird things still to come?
Then this, at the British Museum.
We have arrived.
We got to have our photo taken with the goddesses themselves, the very image on this blog’s banner. I must admit I was already hoping to catch it prior to seeing it the second time around (first time I saw the Parthenon sculptures was back in 2007), but to actually have our photo, the three of us witches, in front of the original dames was just perfect.
And then what? See this?
Photo courtesy of Giselle.
First day in Edinburgh and where did we end up having lunch? At Black Cat pub! If we’re not the Charmed ones, then I don’t know anything anymore.
Or how about an hour later when we saw something else at the square that made us three jump in shock. I mean you should have seen us. Seriously.
Photo courtesy of Gissy.
I mean, come on. I knew we were in Scotland, but did it have to really slap us in the face and remind us of “that Scottish play?” (I read somewhere that saying the title out loud is cursed. I know, I know, I’m not really saying it out loud but keying it, but better be safe than sorry). Must the witches really follow us all over the Kingdom?
Or that we saw this, by mere chance, that same night, at the City Chambers? Can you say serendipity?
My gloved hand looks weird.
Or that we had coffee and cake here, also unplanned for that evening?
If you do not know the significance of this place then BOO!
Or that we actually stayed at a B&B called, *drum roll please* 11 Moray Place. Moray, get it? The Moirae!
And one of the books left for us to read (you know, for amusement, if there was nothing to do which was funny because we were booked up to our noses, pun unintended) by the B&B owner (a nice old lady named Florence) was this:
Seriously.
And that one brand of tea Florence left for us to consume was this:
I challenge the non-Pinoys and non-Spanish speaking readers out there to get the onomatopœia.
Okay, it was all too much for me. The signs were everywhere.
What if I told you that when we arrived in the U.K. it was freezing cold? What if I told you that days prior to our arrival at St. Andrews, Fife the sun was out (at least according to Linda, our Castlemount hostess) and minutes before ringing her bell the winds started howling along the ruins of St. Andrews? In fact, the rain started pouring immediately after we got off the train station. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the wind was trying its best to expel us. Or was that its own way of welcoming us witches?
(Speaking of Castlemount at the Scores, Fife, how about this which is just across our B&B? You know what the name of the lake is? Yep. Witch Lake.)
Me (and my nose ache!) and Abbey at Kensington Garden. Photo courtesy of Gissy.
What if I told you that during our last day in the U.K., the sun finally came out and I was sweating like that proverbial pig (the money in my belt bag was literally damp with my sweat)? Was it because the Kingdom was happy we were finally on our way? Or was it telling us something?
Was it an answer to the question, “When (Where) Shall We Three Meet Again?” Someplace where we could finally sweat and enjoy the, ehem, eye of heaven?
The ‘when’ is difficult to predict. But the ‘where’. . .
Will I do another MacArthur, this time in my beloved Brasil? Até mais!
How about this very last sign at the Heathrow Airport, minutes before the Parting of the Ways?
Do I believe in signs? I do not know. I guess I have no solid answer for this question, at least none at the moment.
What do you think?
Anyway, for now, let me review my rusty and not-so-dependable Portuguese. . .
Posso pagar com cartão de crédito?
27 Sunday May 2012
The Fates at 11 Moray Place. Sounds redundant, but there you go.
My hearing is poor I’m practically deaf. I can’t see that well as I’m near-sighted. And of the three witches, I am “The One Who Speaks No Evil”, not because I don’t like to speak of wickedness (because sometimes I do, hahaha), but because I’m not very fond of speaking (unless it’s necessary). I’m the kind of person who believes in the adage, “if you cannot improve the silence, then do not break it.”
But my nose is quite something, I tell you.
My nose may not look it (it’s not pudgy, nor is it glaringly large, helloooooo Ms. Streisand), in fact it looks pretty average, but it has superpowers. It can smell scent from distances away. It has impressed people far and wide, and its reputation is quite impressive; it has been hailed by Kings and Emperors — from the farthest kingdoms of the north to the fairest glens of the south (what, in Minerva’s tartan skirt, am I saying??!).
So do allow me to let you in on a little secret: I trust my nose more than anything. More than my eyesight. More than my hearing. More than my tactile sense even.
I just had to try their Highland Park single malt scotch whisky. Yummeh!
Going to the United Kingdom has put my nose’s superpowers to the test. It has encountered scents largely unknown before—-the smell of cold, biting, harsh wind as it lords over a small town in St. Andrews, for instance. Or the bitter, full smell of Scottish haggis, if you get my drift. Or how about the strong, heady smell of whisky (I smile at the nasal memory of it)?
London, my dear old London has a spicy, tangy, sometimes grubby, other times damp asphalt scent. It has a curious diverse aroma—-curry, pepper, tomatoes and basil compete with the smell of dust and rain. Some people may find it overwhelming. I find it comforting. There is something to be said, I guess, about fitting in the chaos of an open city. I kind of feel at home in the chaos, I don’t know why. I feel as if I can easily disappear amidst all that madness.
Edinburgh is the exact opposite. While I truly loved its picturesque view and setting, all the highs and lows of the city streets burdened me. My feet and knees were not built for the daily climb, several times each day, mind. And the silence, oh dear heavens. There were so many people walking about, yes. There were bagpipers in practically every street corner, yes. There were musicians of every persuasion—-jazz, alternative, pop—all competing for your attention and pennies, yes. But for some reason, all I noticed was the silence. Perhaps it’s because of the smell of the town. It was a faint smell of remoteness, perhaps even pride. I couldn’t reach out to it, and it was too proud to reach out to me. It was a perpetual estrangement, as dear old Jane would say. We, that is, Edinburgh and I were civil enough. We respected each other’s fragrant heritage. Perhaps we’re too different. Or perhaps we are too similar we found it too awkward to pursue a certain kind of intimacy?
The Bard’s birthplace.
Back in England, I remember going to Stratford-upon-Avon with Giselle and Abbey and being hit by this pungent, boggy scent. I couldn’t figure it out at first, but when I saw the Bard’s birthplace, the very house he grew up in, in fact, I just had to say “aaaaaahhhhh” to myself.
Stratford-upon-Avon literally means street/road (strat) upon the river (avon is the celtic name for river).
There was something quaint, not just in his house, but in the entire wee town as well. I guess it’s a combination of the canal’s whiff and the musky scent of old taverns and timeworn pavements that give Stratford its own unique scent.
St. Andrews smells different, so different from Stratford-upon-Avon. While Stratford smells of woodsy taverns and sloppy canals, St. Andrews in Fife, Scotland smells of brine.
The Castle ruins overlooking the sea. Perfect combination of romance and tragedy courtesy of my overactive imagination.
The seawater’s scent combined with the strong, icy winds of the area gave me chills, both literally (I shivered and quivered several times each day, I kid you not) and figuratively (the quiet little streets that lead up to the ruins of the Cathedral seem united in some cause I couldn’t figure out). The smell of this picturesque, little university town reminded me a bit of Lothlorien. Pretty to look at, but too unattached, unlike its distant familial setting, Rivendell.
Now Rivendell, the land where autumn sings with the elves in the kingdom of Elrond, I must say, I’ve come to connect with Alnwick, Northumberland. There’s something about this town. While every nook and cranny in the United Kingdom probably has something ancient to boast about, I must say Alnwick reached out to me via my olfactory nerves to let me know one thing—
A witch in the middle of Alnwick castle’s courtyard. Photo courtesy of Buttercup/Giselle.
“I smell of ancient history.”
It’s in the rampart walls of Alnwick castle, where many soldiers must have died defending the huge expanse of land. It’s in the grass by the impressive lawn where Harry Hotspur might have taken a walk half a millennia ago, as he broods upon the fate of some enemy or other. It’s on the pavement outside the castle walls, where ordinary folks now tread as they go about their way. It’s on every leaf of every tree that has witnessed the passing of both man and time.
Can you shout, “Mr. Longbottom! Mr. Longbottom!” a la Madam Hooch?
History is all over Alnwick. You walk by any of the roads and you can smell it. The scent is so strong I was almost bowled over by it.
Or how about the collective smell of history over at Barter Books (just a stone’s throw away from Alnwick castle), one of the world’s most beautiful bookshops?
The image is but a wee portion of the entire bookstore. They even allow dogs inside. Wonderful!
I went there unprepared. Upon setting foot inside the carpeted lobby, I wanted to kneel down and kiss the ground. Inasmuch as I don’t like clichés (unless I’m being ironic about something), I truly felt like I was a kid left inside a sweet shop and everything was for my taking. I was well nigh panicking as I walked briskly along every aisle of this gorgeous, most amazing bookshop.
I wanted to snort all the words in one go. I wanted to take a whiff of every page and every cover. When Abbey showed me an old, battered copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice I immediately grabbed it (shaking hands notwithstanding) and I just had to smell it. The book spoke to me via its scent.
Imagine the collective wisdom, the combined stories within the historical setting of Alnwick. I was there and I still can’t wrap my head around it. To stand and see and smell all of that made me happy. Really happy. I can imagine staying there forever and ever after.
There were other places we checked out—-Jedburgh and Melrose in Scotland for a day tour. Hadrian’s Wall a little after the border between England and Scotland. Rosslyn Chapel at Roslin (now this quaint little chapel in this quaint little town deserves a full blog entry on its own). The list goes ever on. But the Great UK Adventure had to end, as all adventures have to.
The Weird Sisters from ‘that Scottish play.’ We conquered the UK, yes! No need for the book, granny Florence of Moray Place, thank you very much.
Or does it?
I still have my superpowers, and as long as I have it, and as long as I’m a third of a Powerpuff, my adventures never will.
14 Monday May 2012
I’m sure some of you may be wondering why none of us have blogged about our Warner Brothers Harry Potter Studio Tour knowing how excited we were about going to Leavesden. We even had a countdown timer on the lower left-hand side of our blog. The truth is, it’s difficult do put down into words how we each felt about the experience. It was overwhelming, in a good way.
Bill Weasley look-a-like on the train to Watford Junction!
Waiting for the WB bus that will take us to Leavesden.
The wall provided great cover from the cold morning wind.
Personally, I don’t even want to post all my photos. I know it sounds selfish but for the Harry Potter fans out there, you will thank me for it later. Can someone say SPOILER? And now for the real selfish reason why I don’t want to blog about it. The trip was something so personal and so close to my heart that I want to keep it all to myself. Blogging about it would somehow diminish how special and sacred the entire day was for me.
When Frankie, Abbey, and I were on the bus back to the train station, we had talked about how or if we were even going to write about our May 10 experience. Frankie reckons she’d write a really long post; Abbey thinks she won’t; and I think I’d write too little. Words would never be enough.
PoA and GoF lockets. Thanks, Abbey! 🙂
I suppose all I can tell you was that I cried four times during our entire stay at the Leavesden studio. Yes, four times. This deluge of emotions came from two things and two things alone. First, that I was actually here immersed in the set and the studios and the props where they made the movies – where Rupert, Dan, Emma practically grew up! As Abbey’s brother said, this was like a pilgrimage, a journey to our Harry Potter Mecca. As you will see, we came in our Harry Potter attire. (I don’t like saying costume anymore because my robes have become such a part of my wardrobe.) Second – and this reason makes my eyes water every time – is that I could never have asked for the two perfect witches to enjoy it with. To think that we got to do this together is just mind-blowing and I wouldn’t have wanted to go here with anyone but Abbey and Frankie.
Okay, enough of the drama. On to some more photos.
Harry Potter Studio Tour!
Our tour schedule was at 11AM but true to form, we were on the first bus to the studio at 9.20AM. We hung around the WB shop to case the joint and see what we could buy and pine for the ones we either couldn’t afford or were too heavy to pack into our suitcases. It was good that we were allowed to take photos in the shop too.
Crookshanks looks so…cranky!
Frankie in character. ALWAYS.
Finally, 11AM came and we lined up and shortly left the Muggle world behind. We emerged five hours later. 😉
Our tickets for the souvenir guide; the digital audio/video guide; and the entrance ticket. We only got to keep the ones for the souvenir and the entrance. 😦 I should’ve asked for the digital guide ticket back!
Pretending to be part of the cast. Here’s our hair and make-up dresser. Tee-hee.
Hangin’ outside Hagrid’s Hut. Taking a break from all the walking to finish our digital audio/video guide.
It’s great to be back at The Burrow. Now where are my siblings?
Let us in! Locked out of the Hogwarts gate.
I’ll stay at Leavesden Studios for a bit longer and catch the bus back to London!
Butterbeer! Cheers!
I could drink all three glasses but that would be selfish.
That’s us riding the Ford Anglia. I was driving.
Picking up Harry from 4 Privet Drive.
Look at the size of those chess pieces! Uh-oh, and I think the knight wants slay me.
What an awesome day indeed! As promised, I didn’t post all my photos both for selfish and unselfish reasons. On the way back to King’s Cross, I said a little prayer of thanks that even through the dreariness of Muggle life, there is still (Harry Potter) magic in this world.
Platform 9 3/4 is at King’s Cross Station which is just a few blocks from where these three witches are staying.
At our hotel: The secrets have been revealed and it was magical!
