Scotland - a taster

Tane and I have just returned from a fabulous eight days in Scotland. We had a great time - tried haggis, drove around the Highlands, got lost, found ourselves in the middle of no-where and saw the most spectacular scenery I've seen since New Zealand. I am far too lazy to blog about it at length just yet, but will leave these photos as a taster of a few iconic Scottish things we saw ...

A random marching band in Inverness

Culloden Battlefield
A frightening Highland cow that I would not want to bump into by mistake
Loch Ness (and a monster)
Tane contemplates his last day of being 30 at Torridon

Mont St Michel vs St Michael's Mount

It's the battle of the English Channel, the contest between two champion tourist destinations. The prize? The prestigious title of Coolest Tidal Island Monastery/Mansion/Fortress Reached By Causeway What Lauren And Tane Saw On A Bank Holiday In May (yes, this entry is waaaaaaaaaaay overdue - I'm a slacker, what can I say).

In one corner is Cornwall's finest, St Michael's Mount, home to a posh old family who chose the right side in the Civil War, lovely terraced gardens, a bunch of retired cannons and a collection of various other cool old weapons.

Cornish flag flying over the battlements. Keep away from our pasties, ye swine!

In the other corner is the pride of Brittany and/or Normandy (it's right on the border of the two French provinces), Mont St Michel. Home to security-conscious monks and sellers of overpriced baguettes, set in the middle of an enormous tidal harbour where they say the sea comes in faster than you can run and capped by a stunning fortified monastery, it's famous for good reason.

Columns by the monastery's garden

It's a tight contest. Both places have exceptionally cool architecture and great views. But despite St Michael's Mount getting bonus points for having seals, many fewer visitors and a lovely chilled atmosphere, we have to give the title to Mont St Michel. It's just bloody magnificent.

And best of all, I could release my inner toddler and go out and play in the magnificent ...

... mud!

So, the original Mike Mountain is still the reigning champ. But do go to both islands if you're even remotely close to them.

Coming up at some point in the future, our favourite UK weekend destination the Isle of Wight vs the ominous smoking lump on Bay of Plenty's horizon, White Island. Green-hilled, historic retirement home vs deadly active volcano. Place your bets.

Soho & Gay Pride

Soho is one of my favourite parts of London. I go there for a drink or meal at least once a week, and always enjoy walking around, sitting in Soho Square, people watching and generally catching the vibe of a part of London that is like an exaggerated version of Wellington's Upper Cuba Street.

Today Soho was especially cool due to it being the home of Gay Pride day celebrations . I haven't seen so many fabulous costumes, rainbow flags, bright colours and men in tight clothing since ... well, since ever. If we're still in London next year am determined to spend Gay Pride day in Soho again. Let's also hope that by then some move will have been made toward equal rights for LGTB people in terms of being able to get married so there will be even more to celebrate. Times like today I am especially happy at Tane's and my decision to get a Civil Union back in 2007. We may get "married" at some point in the future, but the way I feel about it now, it won't be until gay people are able to as well.

Like Jesus being onstage with Moses

I think I can now die happy. Well, ok, not really, but musically what we saw at the end of the Hard Rock Calling festival Hyde Park today is pretty hard to top.

It was a funny old day - burning heat, then a thunderstorm, then overcast. Great atmosphere though, with thousands of people lying around, chilling out or standing up to watch the bands play.And what a lineup. The Pretenders and Fleet Foxes (excellent), Ben Harper (mediocre - played only one song I knew, though that was a cracking cover of Led Zeppelin's Good Times, Bad Times) and the brilliantly mad Seasick Steve. He this a grey beared old coot who dresses in ancient overalls, plays instruments like a one-stringed stick thing and sings bluesy swamp rock. He could have stepped out of a Jack Daniels ad, except he's the real thing.


Top of the bill of Neil Young. He played a great set, with a lot of the hits (Heart of Gold, Rockin' In The Free World) that he didn't play when I saw him last year. Only criticism is that he's over-fond of the big, drawn out crescendos of drums and guitar at the end of the rock tracks. Shorter is sweeter - like with my highlight, The Needle and the Damage Done.


Sadly, the happy atmosphere of the rest of the show was also tarnished too. There was quite a bit of grumpiness in the crowd, as older fans (possibly fueled by drinking all day) got mad at people getting in their line of site or bumping into them. The worst offender was a very drunk woman near us who kept leaning on people around her as she woozily tried to take photos on her disposable camera. Security pulled her away eventually and she promptly collapsed, which was a sad way to end a gig that obviously meant a lot to her.

But all that unpleasantness was forgotten during the encore, a terrific cover of The Beatles' A Day In The Life. A couple of verses in, this brown haired guy walks on to sing with Neil. I was wondering who it was when the camera zoomed in and Lauren suddenly grabbed me.

It's Paul McCartney.


We, and everyone, go mental. A Beatle. Singing with Neil Young. In front of us.

It doesn't get better than that.

Appuldurcome House

Since living in London I have seen so many awesome old buildings that if I were to write about them all I would have to change the name of this blog to "Ye Olde Home and Garden" or some such. While on the Isle of Wight last weekend though we saw one old house so interesting I am inspired to give it its very own blog entry - Appuldurcome House.

The house from the front, looking deceptively like a house without a gutted interior

You can read about the history of it here, but the upshot is that the house was abandoned after the War and what remains now are the most delightfully creepy ruins I've ever seen. The house is intact enough to see what the rooms were once used for, but ruined enough to give it a mournful and solitary air.

The house from the back

We had a great time exploring and imagining what the house must have once been like. When an old house is full of furniture it often feels like a museum rather than a place where people actually lived. That wasn't the case at all with Appuldurcome.

While on the Island we also visited Queen Victoria's home, Osbourne House. It was well worth the visit, even if we did leave tut-tutting about how Queen Vic must have had very poor taste judging by some of the garish interior. I'd recommend Appuldurcome, though, if only due to the way it forces you to use your imagination about how it would have looked back when Queen Victoria was choosing her rude statues and bright gold ornaments for Osbourne House.

Osbourne House

Beaches! Tents! Joy!

Yesterday was the longest day for those of us lucky enough to be in the Northern Hemisphere, and Stephen, Tane and I decided to spend in on the lovely Isle of Wight. In two days we managed to see some great old houses, walk to some cliffs, find some £2 beer and drive around the entire Island. Awesome.

Walking back from the western most point of the Island

The best part for me, though, was going camping. I love sleeping in a wee tent, snuggled in my polyprops and "Therminator" sleeping bag (Seriously, that's what it's called.) Tane and I bought our tent over two years ago and apart from a trip to New Plymouth and another to Ireland we haven't used it at all. After last weekend, however, I am determined that the summer of 2009 shall be known forevermore as the Summer-o-Camping. Maybe next time though Stephen will bring his own tent, even though he claims that the tiny car was comfortable enough ...


Tane packs up the tent while Stephen takes a photo of himself and I say something wise (I assume)

I am not sure what part of the trip the others liked best, but it was possibly the parts that involved laziness, sand and sea.

The Isle of Wight was lovely, and I can't recommend it enough as a great place to go camping and see the English countryside - especially on the longest day of the year when it doesn't get dark until past 10pm. Bring on the next camping trip!

Newseum - an after thought

While having a self-indulgent browse through some travel photos from earlier in the year , I was reminded of something I meant to blog about months ago and didn't - the Washington D.C. "Newseum". As the name suggests the Newseum displayed a fascinating history of the media and news, as well as interesting exhibits such as this very moving one about 9/11.

Wreckage from the top of one of the Twin Towers in the foreground with the front pages from various newspapers around the World from 11 and 12 Sept 2001 in the background.

The exhibit that left the greatest impression on me though was a wall of photographs. On first glance it looks like a wall of ordinary photographs of ordinary people, but on closer inspection you learn that they are all journalists killed in the line of duty. We may complain about the free press when stories appear in the media that appear dubious or overly sensationalist, but after seeing these photographs I am even more appreciative than usual that I am resident in a country that allows the media to flourish.
On the subject of free press, I also recommend you all read this article written by murdered Sri Lankan journalist Lasantha Wickrematunge about why he continued to critique his government in spite of threats to his life. His photo wasn't on the wall as his death had been too recent, but it is an excellent article that gives the photo wall at the Newseum even more perspective, especially his line "Let there be no doubt that whatever sacrifices we journalists make, they are not made for our own glory or enrichment: they are made for you." I just hope I remember that line next time I read a news article that irritates me for whatever reason or see a copy of The Sun ...

Dad in London

As I said earlier, I love having family come and visit. As soon as Erin left Dad arrived, and we've spent a fabulous week showing him around the usual haunts. He's done a fair bit of exploring himself as well, especially around Ealing's book shops, and has developed a real taste for one of the best things England has to offer - the pub lunch. Yum.

Dad and the Houses of Parliament

The highlight for me, though, was going to Lords yesterday to see NZ lose by one run to South Africa in the 20/20 World Cup. It was great on so many levels - the game exciting, the grounds a great spectator venue, and most of all the sheer wickedness of getting to see a game at Lords with both my Dad and husband, even if I didn't understand their cricket speak half the time!

Lewis, Dad and Tane watching the game

Unfortunately Dad leaves tomorrow and the visits by whanau are over, but we are hoping that we'll get more family visiting at some point and look forward to seeing everyone again in the not to distant future.

Go the Black Caps!

The past 15 years

I have been reading about David Bain this evening in light of today's finding by a jury that he is not guilty of murdering his family 15 years ago. When reading the news about how he is now completely free after all that time (in the legal sense at least, I imagine he will never be free from gossip and sideways glances), I started thinking about just how long 15 years actually is. Since mid-1994, David Bain has been in prison. Since mid-1994, in contrast, I have been to 31 countries, received 2 degrees, been shopping countless times, as well as eaten out, gone to parties, and had an average of a good laugh a day (so about 5,400 then), climbed 3 mountains and run one half marathon, dam dropped, gone both black water and white water rafting, gotten married, learnt to speak Italian well and Spanish, Maori and Arabic badly, and have discovered the joys of sushi, mee goring, Coke Zero and pasta while also learning that coloured jeans, blonde highlights and two minute noodles are not for me.

15 years really is a long time when thought about like that. Whether he did it or not, David Bain must be feeling more than a little overwhelmed right now. It also makes me sad for his brother, Stephen Bain, who was only a month older than me when he was killed. If things hadn't happened as they did (I am being deliberately ambiguous as I still can't decide what happened) I imagine he would have been able to rack up quite a list as well.

Erin in da house

I love it when family come to visit, especially when they bring me lollies from home. So, I am feeling pretty happy at the moment about Erin being here on a short stop as part of her around -the-World trip. Unfortunately, although we went to visit the Queen she did not pop outside her palace to say hello. Never mind.

Outside Buckingham Palace

On the bright side though the weather has been amazing, which has made for some great times soaking up the rays. Oh, and seeing some old rocks as well.

Stonehenge

Whenever I see family it is great how quickly things click back to normal, even though years may have passed. Sometimes living in London I feel far away and disconnected from the folks at home, but when Erin (and Ngaire last year) visit it's so much fun showing them around my pad and newly adopted home. Yay!

D-Day

On June 6 1944, thousands of Allied soldiers invaded Normandy in an act which contributed to the end of World War Two. Equally momentous, on June 6 1994 I sat in my PJs and watched The Longest Day in my Ashhurst lounge (put on by TV1 to mark the 50th anniversary of the landings ) and wrote in my diary that I would love to go to Normandy one day. Last weekend, I finally made it. Yay!

Tane looks at the NZ graves

We visited Omaha Beach first, the place where the Americans landed and home to the cemetery shown in Saving Private Ryan. The whole experience was a bit surreal however in that I really didn't feel as moved as I should have. I am not sure why, possibly a combination of not feeling like it was my history (given the number of American flags I almost felt like I had no right to be there at all) and the number of loud Americans hanging out at the site.

Omaha Beach

The next day we visited the Commonwealth Cemetery, which was much more what I had been expecting. The atmosphere was more sedate, and the cemetery more tasteful. It was very moving finding some NZ graves there, serving as a reminder that D-Day was about people from all corners of the earth.

A German grave

The most moving thing for me though was seeing a small section of German graves. This was the first time I had ever seen some, and if the names and dates inscribed on them were anything to go by the Germans that perished seemed to average about 18 years old, making them all of 7 when Hitler came to power. Should you ever visit the D-Day sites yourself I recommend visiting Omaha Beach and the American Cemetery. However I also recommend that you do what very few others seem to do - visit the Commonwealth sites as well, and see the German graves. As well as being interesting, it gives the experience some perspective.

France ... mmmmm ...

The Normandy and Brittany regions of France are awesome. There are ruins, as well as other interesting old things to visit. There is pretty countryside, and cute wee towns. Best of all, though, there is what I believe to be the best food in the world. The food is so good, in fact, I am resisting drooling into the keyboard just writing about it. Of course there is much more to say about our time in France and I am sure I will over the next week or so, but in the meantime here are a few of our food pics:

The sea, the sea

As Lauren can testify, I nearly went into hysterics when I saw my first stretch of Cornish beach. The one thing I regret more than anything else about living in London is that it's not on the coast. Having grown up in a town a few minutes drive from sweeping sandy beaches and living in Wellington, with its harbour and bays, for most of the last few years in New Zealand, I love being near the sea.

Sunset at Mount's Bay near Penzance.

Which is one of the reasons why I loved Cornwall so much. People who say the UK has no good beaches are twits. True, they don't have nearly as many as New Zealand, so the ones they do have get packed in summer, but Cornwall is studded with gorgeous little harbours.

But much as I love the sea and have spend a lot of time swimming and bodyboading in it, it does freak me out a bit. I think it's the idea of being in this alien enviroment with brutal, pounding waves and vast depths. Maybe I'd end up like this ship we saw on the way to Land's End. Am I alone in this fear of the great blue yonder?

It's kind of like gulls. Listening to their calls is relaxing and watching them float on the breeze is beautiful. But they really are psychotic. Ever seen them fight over scraps, or peck at a wounded bird? The British ones are worse than the ones back home - bigger and with these yellow eyes that look more than a little insane. No wonder Lauren thinks there's a global seagull consipracy.

St Ives

There is a reason that Britons flock in their thousands to Cornwall. It's lovely - not only is Cornwall home to the best beaches I've seen since Turkey, but St Ives where we stayed is now in the running for the Lauren's Fave Place in the UK award. Bath and York ought to watch out.

White sand + Diet Coke + T-shirt weather = Haaaaapy.

St Ives feels like it ought to be on the Mediterranean rather than in England with its windy roads and white sandy beaches. We spent a happy few days exploring the town and its surrounds, relaxing, getting fresh air and a fix of beach. It was too cold to swim but that's a good thing - had it been warmer I suspect the town would have been so full it wouldn't have been as relaxing to visit.

Tane near Land's End. Walking around the cliffs near Land's End is great, although Land's End itself a bit weird and creepy.

Being in Cornwall was great - not only did we have a fabulous time, but it now feels like summer is finally on its way. Especially as news reports are saying that it is predicted to be a good one. Bring it on!

Whingeing Poms and Loud Americans

Being in the US and coming back to the UK has got me thinking about different attitudes in different countries. Stereotypes are dangerous, unfair and sometimes just plain wrong. However, often there is a kernel of truth. Nations do have cultures, with people tending to behave in ways that fits in with most other people, which is what many stereotypes are based on.

A couple of stereotypes that I'd be interested in getting your thoughts on are the friendly American and the negative, complaining Brit.

One of the things that struck Lauren and I being back in the States was just how good the customer service is. People serving us were so polite, friendly and helpful. I'd never noticed customer service in the UK or NZ as being particularly bad before, but in comparison it really isn't flash. A nice smile and cheerful snippet of conversation is not what you expect from the minimum wage slave behind the till in Pac N Save or Tesco.

Flags ringing the Washington Monument. Yanks do love the Stars and Stripes.

Back in London, I've been extra aware of how many Brits - especially in groups - like to have a good moan about something. How you'll hear something is 'rubbish', when it's merely mediocre, or 'decent' when it's very good. On the bright side, British pessimism makes for lots of great comedy and a healthy scepticism about people in authority.

I think New Zealanders have picked up some of this in our cultural baggage. There's the tall poppy syndrome for example - the urge to cut down people who stand out from the crowd.

Guardsmen at Windsor Castle, no doubt off to wet their stiff upper lips with a pint of warm ale and a moan about the boss.

So, what do you think of these stereotypes? Gigantic generalisation for sure, but is there something to them? Is so, why do you think it came about? Is it the British weather (I don't think it's that bad at all)? Is it the space and freedom of America, the optimism of people coming to the New World? What about other stereotypes - like the coarse, cocky, boozing Aussie? Or the cold, humourless German (completely untrue in my experience)? I'd interested to read your thoughts.