Stonehenge and Bath in a Rush.

Geee, I just can't believe how time flies. Octobre is coming to an end and half of my internship is over already. :< I am honestly considering applying for my master's degree at a uni here in London. Just a thought I had without any definite plans or anything. Who knows... I just... Going back to Hanover will be difficult.

Anyway, on Octobre 9th I went with Katja to... STONEHENGE and BATH! We booked one of those bus tours for 54GBP I think it was which is great on the one hand as the price is not too bad I'd say but on the other hand, the time you actually get to spend there is completely determined by other. They gave us 1 hour for stonehenge which is plenty considering that despite stonehenge being stonehenge - mysterious, fascinating and so on - in the end, there are just some stones in a circle; you've pretty much seen everything after 60 minutes. Entry was included in those 54GBP so we did not have to queue at all as was the audioguide available in quite a few languages. I made myself listen to it for a while but just gave up after maybe 10 minutes - c'mon, I'm was not there to listen to some boring ass crap I would have forgotten ten minutes later anyway. I know me and how that works - I listened to it all the way through Fontainebleau when I was in Paris and does anybody think that I retained at least on thing in my head? Nope.

I want to be honest - stonehenge was pretty much a letdown. Not only was it way smaller than I thought it was but also way too crowded and they would not even let you get close to the stones as it was fenced off. So all the pictures are from quite a distance. I mean, I completely understand why they do so - they want to maintain the formation as good as possible but is kinda destroys the amosphere. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad I was there and I don't want to miss the experience, but it just cannot keep up with its reputation. Interesting - but just too tiny to be impressive.

Speaking about tiny. So was our tour guide. That short, sturdy dark-haired early thirties woman I'd say being just a little too perky and friendly to be real. I'm with the client service girls - I know how that works when they're on the phone. I'm not complaining here, that is exactly what her job requires and other people (want to) buy that so she was pretty good at it. What I am complaining about indeed are people that don't know how to be on time when a whole bus (well, it was not really full to be honest) is waiting for them. When you are told when to be back - be back. I don't want to see you leisurely getting on the bus late because you just had to get into that 10 minute queue for a bloody overpriced SAMMICH. What I WANT to do in those cases is to rub that bloody thing in your bloody face especially when looking at your ignorant, completely oblivious face. I hope it gave you heartburn or something. I just cannot stand that kind of inconsideration, you gain in lunch is my loss in time - keeping in mind that WE actually abandoned to get something to eat (much less staying in the souvenir shop for more than a minute). Nevermind.

The drive was alright. Not too long, not too fatiguing. Wheather was cloudy all day long which was okay for stonehenge but maybe a bit of a pity for Bath. Bath. Beautiful. The first sight of this 86.000 resident city was stunning but difficult to catch on camera as the bus did not stop and due to the weather, the visibility was rather misty. What makes Bath so special besides having an actual Roman bath built about 60-70 AD are its architectural characteristics. The whole town - or at least the facades - are made from a kind of limestone found in that area carying its name (Bath Stone, duh) and being beige-yellowish colourwise. Even buildings built today are obliged to be covered in that precious, hence pricey, material to a certain degree to keep the flair of the town.
They gave us only 3 hours for the Roman baths (now a museum) and sightseeing which is simply not enough if you want to do it right. Katja and I quickly agreed on three main sights we needed to see (The Circus, The Royal Crescent and the Pulteney Bridge) and set off to the museum (which was included again) with me taking pictures and Katja shouting random facts at me she listened to on the audioguide. Hurrying through the baths in about and hour, devouring a nice yet overpriced lunch (steak with chips, some salad and garlic bread) in a quite posh restaurant (Grand Pump Room) with live ensemble in 30 minutes, we continued to view the town in a rush, taking most of the pictures while walking. Jane Austen 'museum' with weird costumed guy standing at the front our guide was befriended with as she greeted him already when we were still on the bus (she commanded us to wave and blow kisses at him. Well...) - check. Never read Jane Austen but hey, while we're here. It seemed to be one of those privately-ran small town museums closer to a junk-shop than to anything else we might even have checked out when there would have been more time on our hands.

The Circus

The Circus first (we were given a map while still with the group which turned out to be quite adequate so the orientation was not too bad apparently; Katja was completely in charge of that as I'm a person that seems to constantly go into the exact opposite direction than desired). Check. Alright, interesting and quite a nice view with the trees in the centre. Moving on up to The Royal Crescent. Nice. There seemed to be some kind of festival on the green areas around that place.

The Royal Crescent

As I said, we completely hurried through the town withouth having had enough time to really get a strong impression of the areas and to put deeper thought in it, inhaling the atmosphere which is such a shame so my two cents are rather shallow on these ones.

Next and final "must see" was the Pulteney Bridge.  Alright, the route was not too difficult. Go to the left at this junction, to the right at the next and - lost. Well not really. It took us only about 10 minutes to realise that the way we were on was certainly not the right one and go back. Whatev - we saw some more of the town and a 'mini Camden Market' as she named it - a small vintage car boot sale.

When we finally arrived at the bridge, we had some more time to linger. From architectural perspective is this bridge finished in 1773 not only beautiful but also quite unique with only 3 of this kind existing all over the world. One here, one in Venice and the other... somewhere else. You cannot really see that it is a bridge when directly on it as it appears to be a common street lined with terrace houses, then. We stood there for a while enjoying the view, regretting that we did not have enough time to drink some coffee (cocoa for Kätcha that would have been) and rest in the little park beneath the bridge. I was trying to squeeze out some pictures of my low battery-ed camera while she was trying to be on those (Me: Let me just take another picture from this side... K, saying  'What? You want to take a picture of me?' merciless striking a pose all over the railing...).

                                                                        

   

                                                                                        

On the way back to the coach we grabbed some hot chocolate at Nero along with some yummy brownies and made our way back to London, taking a short unspectacular walk at Earl's Court before calling it a night.

Would I recommend those coach tours? Yes and no. It was a convenient and practical way to see those two locations with the time we had at stonehenge having been more than enough and due to the tickets already been included there was no need to get in the rather long queues at any place. However, when moving on to Bath, I came to the conclusion that one should either take their time to enjoy the city or go to the museum, as there honestly was at least one hour missing to do both properly.

Wet Waste of Time and a Haunted London Uncannily Disappointing

Alright, big delay, I know. Sorry about that. As it recently was my mother's birthday, I was back in Germany for just one night over the weekend, hence the neglect. Sure it was nice being home for a few hours - so to say - but I almost could not wait to be back in London again. Love it. Oh yeah. Try getting from Hamlet on the Street... erm. alright, the dump that is called STREATHAM to Liverpool Street Station and then to Stansted in the middle of the night. Good luck with that. I got up at 2:40 AM, walked up to Becmead Avenue hoping for the night bus to come who was supposed to take me there. I actually was assured that the night buses are just as reliable as the buses at daytime - but that might not mean a lot. I looked up the route on the tfl website. Two days prior I already went up to Becmean just to make sure that I know how to get there (not difficult - found the station right away). The bus came on time - it just did not serve Liverpool Street Station (which was to be the final destination). Awesome. For some reason it ended at Elephant and Castle. Nobody knows why. Nobody. I had the chance to enjoy that feeling that I might not make it to the airport on time and that I honestly don't know how to get to f*cking Liverpool Street in the middle of the night - for about 12 minutes. That's when the next bus arrived. To Liverpool Street Station. Thank. God. It was the second time now that the London transport page gave me the wrong information while it should actually be the most trustworthy source. It is always busy here. Never would you have believed that it was 3:00 am (despite the two foxes I saw). People. Cars. Streetlife. Open stores and restaurants. Once I arrived at the station, everything went smoothly. Although I was not aware that a ticket to Stansted costs 20 Pound one way, or 30 with return. Ridiculous. The bus only takes 8 Pound when you leave at the first station and 10 when you get off at - say - Bakerloo. It might take longer but it is cheaper in the end.


That was what is to say about my last weekend.

The Sunday before was supposed to be Regent Street Festival with "Fashion and Food" being the Motto. I was there, yes, but there was no festival. Well, there HAVE been a few stalls and a very sad looking merry-go-round - but it was literally ruined by the rain. It was beneath a tent with people trying to avoid the water rather than listening to the music where I heard the saddest rendition of Billie Holiday's 'Summertime' ever. The women that played the tune probably felt the same way - just look at their faces...

I just walked pretty much through Regent Street up to a suprisingly empty Piccadilly Circus straight to China Town for lunch. A decision I regretted afterwards. I settled for a newly opened all you can eat buffet restaurant with a 10 pound offer plus one free drink. Most restaurants - and there are plenty of them as china town pretty much consists of places to eat - offer buffets. I might have been the fact that I was alone, or that I might have looked like a gluttonous pig to them - who knows  - but they gave me the crappiest table in the restaurant which I only realised after sitting down after the first walk to the buffet with a hardly filled plate (that's the concept of all you can eat - you can come back to the buffet for more). I noticed that if all seats around me were taken, I would have been pretty much caged. It's not like the place was really full, they just always put you to the front so it looks like that from outside (many people = good food). It is rather awkward to always ask people to stand up for you while they are trying to eat (if I'd been that person, it would have bothered me as well), so I just got up once again, coming back with an embarressingly full plate. The food was okay, but I just wanted to finish ASAP and leave - what I did. That was that Sunday (26/09/10).

On Friday the 1st, I attended one of those many so called London Walks - guided walks through  areas of London based on a certain theme - together with Katja. I had high expectations. And was rather gutted. This walk's theme was "Haunted London" and I expected a creepy tour with well told, dreadful stories. The stories were dreadful at times, but the guide was a dislikable guy hastily telling them in a way that made it easy to realise that he did that way too often already. No atmosphere, no nothing, It was nice walking through Central London (it started at Monument) in the evening through the rain, sure, but it surely would have been nicer without the guide and without wasting the 6 pounds we paid (8 if you aren't a student). Not too much, but still.

The Gherkin and the Lloyd's building are impressive, nevertheless. Too bad we were in such a rush due to the guide that there was no good moment for taking decent pictures...

                                                           

Day 25: Kismet's Calling

Sometimes the best walks are the spontaneous ones.
I absolutely did not know what to do yesterday. I got up rather early for a Saturday (about 9 am), had the usual breakfast, took a shower, did the laundry, chatted on skype, did some blogging and so on. After checking the timeout London newsletter I considered seeing an expedition about experimental food for 5 pounds, but as it was afternoon already and it was about to end at 5 I abandoned the idea. Well, why not just go to Hyde Park, see what people at the Speaker's Corner had to say leave a little through my book.

That was the plan. I never got to Hyde Park. As they always try to only do construction works on the tube at the weekend, you need to be aware of that when being in London. While I am, the Northern Line always seemed to be very reliable so far and everything was roughly planned out (ok, rather in the "we'll see what happens" manner), so it was quite suprising when right before arriving Bank Station, an announcement was made that the station could not be serviced at his point. Fudge. So I got off at London Bridge Station for the hundredth time, seeing what I could do. Take the cruiser to Greenwich? Naaah, not in the mood. So I pretty much just kept on walking for a while, passing over Tower Bridge, walking in the sun along the waterside, eating an overpriced but luscious pistachio macaron from Paul's along with a mocha. As there was a Wagamama right around the corner I decided to have my late lunch/early breakfast there. No too good of an idea. The place was rather empty (maybe 5 more people inside) and the forcefully friendly waiter gave me one or too weird looks I could not really figure out. Dunno, hard to explain. I decided for the Wagamama Ramen along with duck dumplings as a side. Ramen: not really delicious (I did not feel like taking a picture, sorry). Watery miso soup, usual noodles with very little chicken, some half-assed fried tofu, one little slice of narutomaki with one sad little shrimp, nori and some undefinable fresh green stuff. Seemed like they just threw in the little rests they had. The duck dumplings really were tasty, especially that cherry-hoisin sauce that came long with it. I will definitely try to reproduce it at some point when I get back to Germany. Nevermind. I paid and walked further for a while until I reached Monument Station.

Monument Station is one of those stations you will come across more often than others as it is a junction for quite a few lines (along with Bank since they are interlinked) located directly in Central London. So I already changed lines a few times in the underground, but never actually got off there.

Although the station is called MONUMENT  - who would have thought... that there actually IS a MONUMENT right at the exit? Maybe I'm stupid. Maybe I just never gave it a thought. I mean, there is a station called Angel, but would you actually expect a seraphic figure there? Or Elephant and Castle...

The actual monument (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monument_to_the_Great_Fire_of_London) is quite impressive with a height of about 61,6 metres. That was the moment where I decided why not taking a walk through the City of London from the monument to St. Pauls Cathedral - so I did. You would be amazed of how deserted the area is at Saturday evening. Really peaceful and calm - you could almost pass the streets withought checking the sides (ALMOST). So I took my time exploring the area, not taking the direct way but rather passing small alleys looking what might be to be found there (frankly, I could not name most of the sights I've seen. Maybe I should go back with a guide or something next time). It's fascinating how there are still old, historical buildings  side by side with recent (or at least post-war) ones. One of the unforeseen sights I saw was St. Mary Abchurch - hardly noticable between all those tall buildings so close there is no way to actual have a good few of it. The reproduction of boys' heads you can find there will haunt your dreams.

Sleep tight - we're waiting for you...

Further along I came across a variety of sights nameless for me, until I finally reached St. Paul's. I don't know why, but it always had a certain allure to me. Such a characteristic view for London, being the city's Notre Dame in my humble opinion. And while it is nice being right at its feet, walking through its small garden with roses and other plants as well as a spring and sculptures, and being able to see all those ornamental details at close range - St. Paul's real fascination really evolves when viewed from quite a distance.

Oh the horror! Not again...

And while it cannot keep up with its romanticization in Mary Poppins, the tune still lingered in my head.

So, passing the former wobbly bridge, enjoying the honestly engaging view of London and the Thames at Dusk (and being terribly annoyed by these stupid joggers that where on some kind if treasure hunt through the are  - I encountered the first ones already at Monument- sort of disturbing the atmosphere. I could swear one of them called me names at a certain point on the bridge. They constantly tried to walk by the pedestrians on the bridge withough losing speed.) I slowly walked back to London Bridge Station, passing more attractions such as Shakespeare's Globe.

So, although starting with little motivation to really make something out of the day, I think I had one of the nicest walks I've had so far - thanks to unforeseen coincidences.

Day 16-24: You really get Portobello Mushrooms at Portobello Market!

Just something to get started: This is what I see when I look out of the window at work.

I took this photo in an all sneaky manner, so that (hopefully) nobody noticed. I'm cool with taking pictures of my food in public now, but at work it's kinda awkward and and tourist-y. I cannot really complain about work. People are talking to me more and more and there a some that I like and vice versa, so I'm quite fond of going to work everyday, actually.

Last Saturday I went to Portobello Market. It was right before my mother's birthday so the plan was to get her something from there. Located in Notting Hill, Portobello Market is a generic vegetable street market during weekdays but expands to an antique and vintage market on Saturday. The best way to get there is from Notting Hill Station and really just by following the crowd - hard to miss then and it's honestly not far. I read somewhere that it was supposed to be open until 7 pm, so I did everything but hurry and arrived at about 4. Too bad that it went actually until 5.30 with the good stalls already starting to pack so I was rather stressed after realising that - thus so little pictures as my main goal really was finding a present.
The majority of antique dealers actually had their constant shops inside and when looking at the facades of the buildings it is actually hard to imagine how deep they actually go. One antique market hall next to another, so to say. The atmosphere reminded me very much of Camden Market, but less crackhouse chique and more posh. Oh, and really really expensive if you really want to go for the antiques. I expected something resembling a fleamarket to be honest but what you find are actual antiques and porcelain merchants so be aware of that. May it be jewellery, silverware, china, furniture, vases and so on - it's at Portobello's and it's pretty - it really it. Along with vintage clothes and accessories as well as new creations that fit into that kind of style. I actually was really really stressed and slightly panicking as finding something nice, thoughtful and affordable turned out to be more difficult than expected (I always put a lot of thought into giving presents as I really want the other person to like it. Still feel uncomfortable reveiving presents, though). I started to get pissed as all those other people seemed to be so terribly slow and rude, always purposely standing in or crossing my way! That was of course all in my head and I was very aware of that - it's just how it seems to be when you are in a hurry, right? ;)

After finding something, I was finally able to relax for a second and get myself something to munch on. I settled on a delicious vegan falafel wrap with aubergine/eggplant for 4 pounds (3.50+aubergine), sat down on a traffic refuge - there weren't that many cards passing, anyway - listened to troubadour singing Elvis songs and trying to avoid the sauce dripping from my dinner. I went on buying myself about a kilo of tasty and fresh grapes for 1 pound or 1.20 - actually not too fresh, slightly brownish at some areas but still very very yummy - for later, passing a shop selling super expensive, delicious smelling hand-made soap and other things. Lushy it was called and the soap looked like broken parmesan with something like a honey-coloured, comb-strucured  glaze on top - and cost a fortune.

I spent the whole Sunday with Katja. She had an appointment in Shortlands - south-east London - and I came along. Believe me, getting from Streatham to Shortlands really is an adventure, but one worth the effort. It was Sunday and I wrote down a route the tfl - transport for London website - suggested me. It later turned out that there would have been a probably longer but assured way - but nevermind. I only went by bus with one change. Taking the bus is a rather tricky matter here in London - they might not show up, be late or just ignore you (what happened to me today and that fucker of a driver looked me write in the eyes... There are some stations the buses only stop when you wave at them and so I did. Greasy, bloated, dumb-looking little bastard). In my case, the first bus I had to take not only had a different destination than what the tfl said  - that later thankfully changed directly into the one I needed to get off - it did not even stop there. Actually the destination the bus was supposed to stop turned out to be right around the corner, but if you are unfamiliar with the route, you wouldn't know. I was supposed to change at Crystal Palace and the bus right after the one I just had to leave was named that way, so I hopped on it and asked for a zone 4 ticket as my final destination was there and my oyster cards only reached zone 3. I tried to get that one on the first bus as well but the driver refused to sell it to me and I still don't know if they really just don't or if he was not in the mood as I saw him selling SOMETHING to somebody else later, but nevermind. Anyway, the busdriver of the one I just got on not only asked me where I actually wanted to go, but took me with him for one station for free so to say and told me exactly how to get there and which bus to take. Friendliest. Busdriver. Ever.

That reminds me of an incident the Czech girl that lived here on my first week told me about. A bus stopped right next to her with the driving lady shouting "hey". Not realising that she meant her, the girl went on, with another "hey" following. It turned out that she dropped her pullover a few metres before and the driver just wanted to tell her. So some busdrivers really are nice here.

After Katja's appointment we went on for lunch in Brixton. Again I ate at Bamboula - the place I've been before twice - but this time I was rather disappointed. We were really hungry so I was not in the mood to extensively search for the entry of the market so we went there almost directly. Maybe some other day I will find the place P recommended me when they actually jerk the chicken fresh outside.

This time I had the simmered goat which honestly turned out to be a disappointment. While really tender, the meat was spare with many chunks of bones and not really distinctive flavour-wise so I would honestly put it in the category of mystery meat again. Katja opted for the jerk lamb and while finding it delicious, she said that it was nothing she could eat everyday, what is okay with me. As I suggested the place I was worried that she would not like it at all. Frankly, last time I ate there I was not even sure if they actually served plantain or just  bananas and they first bill the waitress gave us was only handwritten so I asked whether I could get an actual one (I get a certain amount of subsistence at my internship when handing over receipts) and the price on there was lower than the first one - although service was included as well. Pretty shady if you would ask me and I think that it is about time to find a different place for Caribbean cuisine. Nevermind.

We went on to see the new Resident Evil in a cinema close to picadilly circus that turned out to be the shittiest cinema I have ever been in, While looking rather fancy from the outside, the actual theatre had not even stairs but only a slight lowering of the floor so you pretty much had a nice view of other peoples back of the head. It might sound weird, but I like the fact that I saw a film in London - which was actually the first one I saw in 3D - and the cinema turned out to be the way it was.

After a short side trip to Chinatown afterwards (where I bought unsweetened bottled green tea - very refreshing) we called it a night.

The following week was not too eventful. I went to a pub three times with some colleagues which may be a bit too often but worth it. :) I don't know why but I don't feel like writing too much about work- or colleague-related topics on here.

If I find the time, tomorrow I will write about my spontaneous but AWESOME walk through Central London I took today, finally being up to date again!