Part 2

Düsseldorf (continued)

Germans! They sure have changed. Now, somewhat like the Japanese following WWII, they are almost embarrassingly benign and non-violent, and decidedly anti-military, and seem to be reveling in their "Europeaness". They still love their beer and hearty (fatty) foods. Walking around an Otto Mess supermarket, I couldn't help laughing to myself. Pink Floyd's "The Wall" was coming from the speakers (remember, they performed this piece on the wreck of the Berlin wall - following it's fall) and all around me German shoppers, many in their 40s and 50s were humming or nodding along with the tune. We, in the US, play nondescript "elevator music" in many places, they play Pink Floyd. I loved it. Shopping for low or non-fat foods is no less frustrating here than in France, even though everything is meticulously labeled. Europeans, in general, just don't seem very excited about low-fat products. But, look hard and you will find them. That is, if YOU care.

Paris

By the time I departed, my spoken German was totally fluent again. My ability to read or understand the German language never had degraded at all. My lovely and unscheduled home leave was coming to an end and I took the Thalys train back to Paris and the following day found me heading via Eurostar train from Gare Du Nord to Waterloo Station in London. But first I did my promised visit of the Basilique de St. Denis. It is on the outskirts of Paris, near the large university de St. Denis. It is the next-to-the-last stop for metro train 13. When you get there, visit the crowded marked, that reminded me of a Mid-eastern souk. I bought an apple to munch on, and the Middle-Eastern merchant, who first asked me if I wanted to eat it right there, which I did, waved my money aside with a smile. I thanked him and walked on to the dominant building overshadowing the place, the cathedral. It is quite old and in some form was already in use at the time of Charlemagne (Karl the Great). In spite of the magnificent edifice and even more astonishing contents, there were no tour groups or buses in evidence. I will be forever grateful to the visiting US professor, I had met in the little Laundromat on Rue Saint Honoré, for suggesting this visit. Inside, for a small extra fee, you can walk among the dozens and dozens of lovely, life-sized or larger sculptures, that mark the sarcophagi of nearly every Frankish and French King, Queen, and notables as far back as the House of Merowingen in the 4th century. As you can imagine, the crypt, which was still being excavated, held the earliest corpses and coffins in the lowest and oldest foundation. I saw numerous figures I remembered from history, such as Pippin the short, Karl the Bald (ahem), Charles Martell, and on and on, all the way to the most recent Kings and ladies. All beautifully and intrically carved in white or light-colored marble. It was a fabulous experience and one definitely not to miss.

England
London 22 APR 01...

Entering the Eurostar train area was like leaving the US all over again. It was luggage checks, passport checks, and a segregated and secured part of the large Gare Du Nord. As of 2002, this will be one of the few places where the Europe traveler will still have to deal with a different currency. Prepare for the British Pounds, Shillings, pence, and dare I mention them, farthings? Hopefully not on a crowded subway train. Don't worry, there are no more farthings (fourth of a pence). All of the rest of Europe will use the Euro. Eurostar, like Thalys, is a private train company, something pretty common in Europe these days, and they have, I believe, a monopoly on the Channel Tunnel passage for passenger trains.

The ride was fast, smooth and fun. When I found myself not looking at the landscape flying by, and reading instead, I always experienced in the background the feeling, that I was in an airplane. It's a very strange sensation. These high speed trains, once switched over onto their own dedicated tracks, really "fly". Up to Liege (Belgium), I had a seat row to myself, however, then it got crowded and noisy. The train was fully booked, and I was surrounded by an Irish rugby team, that had gone to Belgium to kick some butt. Although, I think they lost, but that didn't seem to matter. The celebration was the same and the beer and the songs and jokes came non-stop. Luckily, I was not sitting next to one of the burly, beer swilling, singing Irish rugby players. Instead, a young girl, one of thousands of Irish fans who had accompanied the team, joined me. My knowledge of English was severely shaken, trying to listen in to their conversation and catching only about half of it. After the approximately 20, in this case, quite noisy 20 minutes that took us under the English channel, we surfaced at Dover in England and then proceeded to Waterloo Station, London. The whole trip is around three hours. Be prepared for a huge immigration line. It's really not too bad. Europeans get to go through their own gate, which speeds things up considerably and thus helps the rest of us foreign visitors. On the other side of the border line I hurried to find a cash automat and get some British currency. Easy enough, and then I stopped in front of the large chart that depicted the London subway system. Out came the maps and addresses and printed directions and after a little bit of head-scratching I got into the ticket line and purchased a ticket to Paddington Station. It's a piece of cake, with the friendly assistance of the ticket clerk. Since the London Underground (Tube) ticket is not cheap, it pays to purchase a multi-ride or multi-day ticket and save quite a bit. In fact, when you buy your Brit Rail Pass online, purchase the week's pass for the Underground as well. It's even cheaper that way, than were you to buy it right here in London.

I arrived at Paddington in the London drizzle (very simillar to the Paris drizzle) and quickly found Norfolk Square which is a small garden & park area surrounded by medium-priced hotels, and that has a nice internet place around the corner, opposite from Paddington Station, and a laundromat facing the park. Walking in the opposite direction along the park, away from the laundromat, takes you to a main street. Follow it to the right to a big Safeway supermarket. A real life-saver in a city where much business is conducted in small and more expensive specialty shops. I quickly settled into my crummy little hotel (friendly personnel, mediocre breakfast), but had a nice room overlooking the park. In every respect, a long way from my hotel in Düsseldorf, even though it cost more. But this is expensive London. However, being just a couple of minutes from Paddington Station, and a short walk from Hyde Park, is well worth putting up with a little loss of luxury. That evening, in the drizzle and rain, after getting some food, I walked to Hyde Park and got to listen to among others, Jews and Arabs in serious debate, as well as all manner of beliefs and philosophies being expounded all around. There seems to be always an audience, even in the rain, for every public speaker present.

The cuiser Belfast on permanent display with the Tower Bridge in the background.

The following day I once more took a little walk. By the time I was finished I had walked half of inner London. I walked from the hotel down Oxford Boulevard to Picadilly Circus. Watched the incredible crowds, listened to the ever-present talented musicians (bought a CD from a Chinese performer), and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Then I walked all the way back. The following day I took the Circle Line from Paddington Station to Tower Hill. After examining a remnant of a Roman wall, and being suitably impressed by William the Conqueror's old keep, the London Tower, overshadowed by the amazing Tower Bridge, which I crossed, I then I continued to walk for the rest of that day. I stopped only to eat brunch and a late lunch in some business delis on both sides of the Thames. I criss-crossed the river on alternating bridges, past the heavy cruiser Belfast display, and then headed into town toward the Old Bailey. There I chatted with a charming female reporter who, among a crowd of other news-people, was waiting for some member of the Royal circle to appear, who was somehow connected to some murder. The British public must have loved yet one more murder mystery and anything to do with the royal family. From there I continued along the riverside, past the Egyptian monument, still showing its scars from WW2 German buzz bombs, and the still closed Millennium Bridge, and Millennium Wheel, and finally to Westminster hall. The sun was just peeking out from behind the thick clouds and I ended up in a line outside of the Parliament building. Thinking that I too wanted to have a look inside, but finding that my excitement definitely was waning after about an hour in the long and suddenly sweaty and sun-drenched and nearly immovable line, I decided on a different approach. I walked past the line into the building and asked one of the friendly Bobbies on duty there, how long the estimated wait was. He said about two hours more, but if I were willing to go into the House of Lords, there was no waiting at all. Well, duh! That's exactly what I wanted to see. It sure pays to ask. Get used to it. Anyway, that's the parliament chamber with the throne chairs for the Queen and her consort and the one that is usually seen on TV when the Queen's address to Parliament is filmed. No cameras allowed, but it was still a thrill to see the venerable old chambers, the regent's throne chairs, as well as to see some of the Lords and Ladies, some in wigs and robes, address the present members of the House of Lords. It's about the same as in our government: only those who happen to be interested in a specific topic were present. I understand that the Lords work for free and it is considered a privilege to be a member of the House of Lords. I'm sure that there must be some real benefits, especially in this class-conscious society, aside from being able to affect the laws of the United Kingdom. Following that interesting experience, I walked across the street to the Westminster Cathedral. What a great place that is. Again, taking pictures is strongly discouraged. As I walked across the ancient stones of the quadrangle, over marble grave markers of Darwin and other famous British citizens, such as explorers, scientists, and other notables, I heard singing and entered the Cathedral proper. There, amid the candles and old pews in the awe-inspiring vastness of the Cathedral's interior, I got to enjoy a great organ and choral performance. I love that stuff. To me, chancing upon an event like that always makes the visit a little more special. After that thrilling experience I was not even close to finished for the day, nor anywhere near Paddington, meaning, I had still a long walk ahead of me. I checked my map and saw that I was not too far from Downing Street (#10) and currently the home of Tony Blair . I peeked through the bars of the gated and fenced-off street at the PM's residence. Then, after snapping a quick picture of one of the colorful Royal Horse Guards, resplendent in red and white uniforms and decorated, highly polished brass helmets, in the nearby royal cavalry barracks, I finally dragged my tired body back to the hotel. First, however I had to make a quick detour around Trafalgar Square to Picadilly Circus. I enjoyed the circus at the Circus, because it reminded me a little of Venice Beach. It's a great place to just kick back, listen to the performers, and watch the highly diverse crowd parade on by. Visiting that area also gave me a chance to dig into the many used-paperback book stores in the side-streets around Picadilly Circus. I figure I probably walked for roughly seven or eight hours that day. The hotel manager was completely astonished when I told him where I'd been and said, "Good God man. You've done the lot of it!"

London, in a different, more dark and stern way, is similar to Paris, in that both cities strut the massive ornate structures built in previous eras of imperial megalomania and centers of global power. Paris structures, however, are notably more playful and airy in character.

A few day-trips took me easily from the Paddington Station transportation hub to other stations from where I rode the trains to different parts of Southern England. To go to highly interesting and historic Portsmouth, you take the Tube to Waterloo Station, and then continue by train from there. Portsmouth is neat. That's where the giant hovercraft are based that still cross the English Channel. Portsmouth harbor and the attached military base is also the HQ of the Royal Navy. Here, among other old and famous ships to be seen, are nautical museums, great souvenir shops, archeological displays, and the crown-jewel, the HMS Victory, Admiral Lord Nelson's battleship. It is permanently dry-docked and currently being refitted for the 2006 anniversary. The tour is included in the access ticket to the harbor area. When purchasing the ticket, you commit to a certain time. Don't be late. The HMS Victory, the world's oldest commissioned warship, was launched in 1765, carried 104 guns and had a crew of 850. Imagine, 850 people packed into that wood box. Not exactly the life of luxury, though for many a better alternative to life in the crowded cities of that time. On the harbor grounds, in the museum-shop cafeteria, I had the best meal in England. That's of course my very own personal opinion. Most of you would vehemently disagree. However, I was perfectly happy. Aside from the very interesting tour of the HMS Victory, I also saw the HMS Illustrious (RO6), a modern British, ski-jump-deck, aircraft carrier in port. And, for the history buff, a very special display: the recovered wreck of the Tudor ship Mary Rose. The Mary Rose was one of the new ships commissioned by Henry VIII, as part of a program to build a strong navy to counter potentially hostile French and Scottish fleets. The Mary Rose sank in 1545. It was rediscovered in 1971 and a salvage, recovery, and preservation/conservation effort has been underway since then. The scientists involved in this undertaking are closely in consultation with those who are taking care of the Vasa in Stockholm. Polyethylene Glycol (PEG) was pioneered there, and is in use here as well to replace the water in the old wood structure, and in doing so, harden it years later, into a durable, dry and museum-worthy display for the general public, and students of history, to enjoy.

I did one day-trip into the English country side to a little place called Somerton. My "side-quest" there was to meet with the staff of a Future Publishing, one of whose magazines, 3D World, I subscribed to, who I had found to be totally unresponsive to any emails from me. The trip was a failure, in that I did not find my way to the home of Future Publishing, but it ended up being an educational and very enjoyable excursion into England far away from the crowded big cities. Hedgerows, grazing sheep, distant valleys, thatched roofed historical houses, old manors - it was all there for me to feast my eyes on. It was one of the more peaceful days in England. I made up for that trip to the publisher, by heading to the delightful city of Bath. Bath is picturesque, charming, and pleasantly peopled. I got friendly assistance wherever I needed it. It helped me to find the publisher's headquarter there and they had me talk to the Somerton people on the phone and straighten everything out in a flash. Bath with its markets and twisted narrow alleys is a very nice town to wander around in. The Bath Minster and the ancient Roman baths are definitely worth a visit to this friendly place. You are not allowed to put your hand into the water, though the old thermal well is still warm, as you will find out, if you fail to notice those signs.

Another day-trip and another side-quest of mine was to get to the National Museum of Photography, Film and Television (NMPFT) in Bradford. You wonder why? Before I left the States I already had learned about a Star Wars Exposition in that location. It was to end just a few days after my arrival in the UK. That trip too was rather insightful. For a time I thought that I had left England and found myself in Pakistan or India. For miles in the outskirts of Bradford I did not see a single white face in the streets. Those were shadows of things to come. Once in Bradford, finding the NMPFT was a totally easy, and the show was a thrill for me to behold. I think that much of what I saw there is now in New York on permanent display. After my return to London I got into a discussion with some English people in the hotel about the racial mix and ghettoization that I had noted in the suburbs of Bradford. I pointed at the race-related problems in the USA. They assured me that they never have any problem with those people. I laughed at them and told them that they had their heads stuck in the sand or some other dark place and that if they did not watch out, it would blow up in their faces. It was one of my more prophetical moments. Did it ever! Months later, Bradford environment ended up being the very location where all hell broke loose when the race riots in England started. Don't let that keep you from visiting Bradford or the NMPFT. It's a nice little place, once more quiet, and the Museum and the included IMAX theater is a fun place to see and shop.If you visit England and want to explore around a little, you can get current exhibition information on the web here (click on the image):

The final day-trip from London took me to Salesbury and from there to the Stonehenge. The "little" Stonehenge! Because of the mad cows disease, rampant at that time, only one path was open to the public. The Stonehenge, indeed, appears smaller than we all "remember" it. The reasons are probably that it is quite compact. Even though the individual stones are definitely huge, being kept at distance one never really got a feel for the actual size of it. A better trip, and one for my next trip to England may be one to Avebury (highly recommended by students of that stuff). Avebury is only another hour or two away from Salesbury, and home of many and much larger stone circles. Best probably, for visitors interested in that sort of thing, is to see both sites. The Stonehenge is unique, that's for sure, and I would not have wanted to have missed seeing it. I also skipped seeing the interior of the Salesbury cathedral, which is topped by a huge spire, and from what I hear, well worth a look.

Since I would come back to London, I left some things to be experienced after my return from the rest of England, Scotland and Ireland.

A guide main attractions in London

York 3 MAY 02

I had put York onto my list of cities to visit, because I had heard about its Viking history, and, because I had read about its supposedly fine city wall. I think, if I remember correctly, one of the first large-scale Viking attacks around 8-900, involving over a hundred ships, defeated the kingdom centered around York. However, I arrived at the station without a clue where to go. Somehow I had either lost or forgotten the address of the B&B and only knew that it was called Six St. George. Luckily, each railroad station had a small tourist office and the girl there looked up the city plan and found what might have been my place, though she was unfamiliar with the particular area. At least I had an address. I shouldered my backpack and happily marched out of the main doors only to realize that I had no idea which bus to take. Taxis had a long line of people waiting for them. Going from bus to bus, I finally chatted with some old guy who happened to be a retired bus driver. He knew the streets and told the bus driver of the bus, to which he directed me, where to tell me to get off. It ended up being neither very far nor very difficult. There was a horse racetrack on one side, and then, as so many times on this trip, there I stood, wondering where to go next. So, I took a short walk in what I thought might be the right direction, and discovered the side-street the girl at the station had mentioned, and then almost immediately saw my B&B on the right side of the road, in a very nice old neighborhood. The place was pleasant, run by a young family, physically and financially augmented by the wife's parents. The owners have a couple of kids, love dogs, which they walk near the racetrack, and the husband is a chef, who at times can be talked into cooking an evening meal (for a very reasonable price). The excellent breakfast was included in the stay. Then it was off into York. I love that town. Just like Bath, with a friendly, cozy inner city, a great history, and a delight to walk around in. The old city walls are great, well restored, and can be walked on, nearly all the way around the town. The York Minster is fantastic and absolutely huge. I could have stayed there much, much longer. The walk from the B&B to the town, and even the railroad station, was very acceptable. It was maybe 10 minutes or less to one of the old city gates. There's the interesting Jarvis Viking center here and also an old tower, that dominates the area from a hill, where over 1000 years ago a fortress once stood and before that a wooden keep. There is a great old riverside, modern shops, old, narrow, truly medieval alley ways, where you think of the days when chamber pots might have been emptied out the windows and the only safe place to walk was close to the walls of the woodbeam framed houses. Of course there's an old market, and a row of art stores selling wonderful limited edition lithographs or original art. Unfortunately, even though I saw traces of Roman occupation, I missed the Roman display below the Minster. Well, that leaves something for my next trip. York is a place well worth a return visit.

A city guide to York

An email:

Bath is lovely, but York is maybe even more so. A wonderful town and I got to stay in a very nice place. York and its ancient city wall and a cathedral, so vast, that it may well have been the largest enclosed space I've ever stood in. Lovely bridges, narrow alleys, the works. Everyone I talk to who's been there leaves with the same fond memories.
Because of a reservation confirmation problem I ended up in Newcastle on a holiday weekend without a room, while being charged for the previous night, when they expected me (disregarding my correction emails). I was pissed. Hit the ceiling. Did, however, not get angry at the lovely little blonde who crewed the reception desk. She was a total doll. A Scottish doll from Edinburgh. She calmed me down, gave me a glass of wine and made a number of calls to get me a room. Finally I told her I'd go back to Londom. At least I knew that I could stay there and have a great gym to work out in. She told me to go on to Edinburgh, her hometown, and helped me to find accommodation there. She, BTW, is a student at the Uni of Newcastle. Disappointed and tired I pushed on to Scotland and found the place, getting lost first in a lovely old suburb of Edinburgh. I am paying less than I would have in Newcastle, and am getting a nice breakfast to boot. Great place and highly recommendable. While it did not solve my Newcastle goal (Durham and Hadrian's Wall), it is a great place to stay. I spent yesterday kicking all around town to see the sights. Very nice, historical and interesting. Saw the Scottish crown jewels and the Stone of Destiny. All finally returned by the English in exchange for Scottish abandonment of demands for independence. Today, trying to find some stuff for friends, I ended up trying to go to St. Andrews. Missed it and got off the train at At Dundee. I had an hour to kill, so I left the station and found myself face to face with the Discovery. A ship used by Captain Scott to explore the Arctic and Antarctic. A great and unexpected finding. Then I headed to little St. Andrews and was greeted by a Ph. D student who cheerfully told me that today she and some others were running a free taxi service into town. She stayed with me and got me to the station just as the train back to Edinburgh pulled into the station. Another great day. So far, I can't complain.


Newcastle upon the Tyne (NuT) 5 MAY 02

Late on the 5th I took the train to Newcastle. I saw Durram and its great setting and cathedral from the train, and it had been one of the places I had planned on seeing from there. Another major day-trip target were two visits to Hadrian's Wall. Well, due to a snag with emails to the Ferncourt Hotel, none of that happened. Newcastle is a nice university town, busy, medium-sized, and modern. I got to the hotel, and they had expected me the previous day. Charged me for the night and then rented my room (the double-dipping so-and-so). The place was full and only the pretty student who was tending the bar settled me down. I had a glass of wine and she, being from Edinburgh, my next destination, helped me find a B&B there. Because I would get there days early, the one I was supposed to go to, was full. Lucky again, and I ended up in a very nice and highly recommendable place. Meanwhile, with heavy heart, I abandoned NuT and took the train along a spectacular coast (sit on the right side) to Edinburgh. I will definitely have to revisit NuT, because I've waited for a long time to see Hadrian's Wall. The abandonment of which by the Roman legions, was one of the reasons England became Germanic (Saxon) rather than remaining Celtic about 1500 years ago. I just saw in my notes that an all-day bus ticket in NuT costs 2.85 Pounds.

Edinburgh 5 MAY 02

So it was yet one more city and one more search-and-discovery mission for the day. Made it from the modern railroad station to the right bus stop, onto the proper bus, but I finally got lost near the B&B in Edinburgh, but I realized later, that I was less than a five minute walk from the place. A friendly young tourist with a cell phone let me use it to call the owners who gathered me up from across the conveniently close shopping mall, with his Mercedes. That was another great place I would gladly revisit. The lovely and industrious couple actually has two B&Bs in their family, and you can find it in my hotel listing as well. There is a very inexpensive day ticket available on all buses (1.50 Pounds) and getting around Edinburgh is a breeze. Edinburgh is big, has lots of sights, and is beautifully situated at the Firth of Fourth. There is the Edinburgh Castle to visit with the Scottish Crown Jewels on display, and there are lots of weekend activities at that castle. There are old cannons, dungeons, and even a choral group in the great hall, when I happened to be there ( no idea of how regularly they meet there), and lots of arms and armor to view. Leaving from there, past all of the whisky stores and great souvenir places along the Royal Mile, you can meander way downhill to the Royal Palace. I did this on two separate days. I also tried some of the old Scottish whiskey. All of the stores sell little airline-size trial bottle of all of their finest distillations. Next I was day-tripping around, looking for St. Andrews, the birthplace of golf, while doing so, getting lost in Dundee, but being rewarded by discovering Captain Scott's ship, the Discovery, as a pleasant surprise. I also was awed by the immense railroad bridge, once hailed as marvel of engineering, and still totally impressive today, just outside of Edinburgh. From near the railroad station, I departed on an all-day bus tour around Scotland as far as Loch Ness. Loch Ness was eerily fascinating and changed its character in the short time I was there from calm and benign under mostly blue sky, to wind-whipped and mysterious, bracketed by dark and threatening clouds. There is an old castle ruin to tour, which was undergoing some restoration at that time. In fact, many of the Scottish castles are just ruins. The reason was, that once conquered, the victor usually destroyed the stronghold to deny its future use to any of the many warring factions. I saw great places to hike and even a ski resort up high on one of the mountains. The driver regaled us with lore of the McDonalds, Rob Roy, Robert the Bruce, and the Scottish resistance against the English and other enthralling stories. It is a hard and rugged country that shaped its people into the hardy, long-time enemy of the English. Not anymore, however. The economic benefits of being part of the United Kingdom outweigh the need for independence. They do retain their own unique cultural elements and a certain autonomy, in any case, and remain delightfully different. I spent some time chatting with a cop near the great church with the tower shaped like the Scottish Crown, on the Royal Mile, who once was involved in the Vietnam War. There is also a unique tourist center that once was a church (traditional steeple). Go right in for maps and information. Aside from clean (and free) bathrooms, there is a restaurant that serves an excellent fare with any beverage (I had some wine) you choose. I toured the city to its beaches on the city buses, which in itself is an inexpensive way to look around and observe the Scots as they live. There are supermarkets near the main station, a great shopping mall, weekend bagpipe players, Sir William Scott's monument to climb, museums, impressive statues and facades, and there's whiskey to sample. Not too far from there is also Scotland's finest college which counts many notables, including Tony Blair, among its alumni. It is known that even Sean Connery went there. Alas not as a student, rather he used to deliver dairy products to that college. I know that there is also an annual art festival here that draws people from all over the world. There is a great mountain path behind the Royal Palace that makes for a nice exercise walk or jog and will reward the hardy traveler with a panoramic view of all of Edinburgh. I just remembered a funny thing: I was sitting in a stall in the restroom in the Palace, and listening to what seemed to be high heels walking around in the place. I shrugged, well, what do I know? Maybe the cleaning lady wears heels or some Scot in his kilt went one step too far. Got out afterward washed my hands, the place was immaculate, and when I left I had a quick look at the sign on the entrance, I realized that I had "rested" in the Ladies' room. Somewhere I took a wrong turn.

I departed Edinburg early on 10 MAY to take the train to Glasgow and fly from there to Dublin. Arriving in Glasgow at the Queen Street Station was an odd experience, because I had to take a (free) bus to Central Station, from where I could catch the train to Prestwick Airport. Stay very alert to frequent or late platform reassignments. All in all not a difficult switch, and I arrived at the airport well in time to catch my hop on Ryan Air to Dublin.

A picture tour guide to Edinburgh & Scotland

Ireland
Dublin 10 MAY 01

Arrival in Dublin was hardly traumatic. I picked up my backpack, then went outside, crossed a sundrenched road to where lots of buses were parked to find a cash machine and also to buy some stamps. Then, providing some of the bus drivers with the name of the street (Dame Street), I was quickly directed to the proper bus. I impressed on the drivers, there was a driver change half-way through, to let me know where I needed to get off, since I didn't have a clue. They took care of me. I was left standing by the side of the road nearly in the center of town. The hotel was just a few steps away and superbly located. The personnel was friendly but the room kind of crummy, though the breakfast was ok, and got better yet, once I dashed across the street to the little Asian-run food store to get non-fat milk. I immediately noticed the huge number of young people on the streets, many adorned in the European way with brightly colored hair. It was warm and the girls suitably and pleasantly dressed down. Once in the hotel, I met a bunch of crazy English women and girls who frequented the hotel occasionally as their weekend escape from London. They immediately hit the bar and I, stupid stiff, did not accompany them and instead set out to walk the town and do some sight seeing. To tell the truth, they were too loud, a little too blond, and while kind of sweet and friendly, were a little too accustomed to the bar and pub life for my taste. They also smoked. I found Dublin to be a bit on the "concrete jungle" side, but quite nice in some way, and a good place to walk and explore. Lots of little shopping pedestrian-only mall areas and food courts. The Trinity College, high on my list because of the Book of Kells, was not very far and preparing for a great annual party. Couldn't get tickets. I tried, but it was all sold out. There was to be live bands, rivers of ale, and lots of dancing and merry-making (I was definitely interested in the latter). Many of the attendees were actually costumed, so I saw later. The Book of Kells exhibit was indeed fascinating to me and to those who are into such things. It is the earliest hand-illustrated book still in existence, and it, and the adjoining library, packed with ancient manuscripts, was a great sight to behold. Life in Dublin is centered around a very lively nightlife. Rather than spending time in any of hundreds of smoke-filled, high decibel establishments (it seemed to me that everyone was shouting at everyone else), I gave a couple of Irish Punts (as of 2002 they too are using the Euro) to some begging women and turned in to read and watch the tube instead.

Dublin Castle on Dame Street

The following day I went to the big tourist office located (just as in Edinburgh) in what used to be a church, just down a narrow street diagonally across from the hotel. Right close to that place is also a post office. Anyway, the tourist office is a great place to buy souvenirs and be assured not to get ripped off, and they have quality goods there. Moreover, this is the place where one can get tickets for all kinds tours around town and Ireland. I took a chance on a sold-out trip to the Boyne (a river) Valley, in hopes that someone would not show up. The price, to be paid at the bus was about $30. My luck, someone did not make it. Which was not unusual considering the intense nightlife of Dublin. It was a cozy trip in a mini-bus and a great and friendly experience. I found myself surrounded by young people from all over Europe and Canada. Getting away from the inner city, Dublin quickly became greener, dense with trees, and much more garden-like. Soon we were in the green, rolling hills and the Ireland I expected to see. Our driver, who loved a good pint, and I believe started the day with one, knew Irish lore well. He entertained us the whole trip and took us to places where the food was good, inexpensive and the pints were to his high standard. Later I found out that a "good pint" was not a matter of quality, but quantity. The best bar keep, at least in his opinion, was one who would pour the glass to the absolute top. No foam, only surface tension. I also got some strong under-currents of fervent Irish nationalism and freedom for Northern Ireland from the British and a united Ireland. No idea how rampant that is among the general population, or whether much of that is just bar talk, and not translatable into a sober call for action. Political discussions are daily fare all over Europe. We made a stop at the mellow Irish Sea and admired the horse ranches there and walked briefly on the beach. Then back, inland to a small town called Drogheda with colorful houses and a great old city gate. From there it was off to Knowth and the Boyne Valley. The place has been dated to around 3000 BC and after 35 years is still being excavated. Knowth and its huge burial mounds are a thrill to experience and, as with the Stonehenge, the creation of these monumental tombs is no less a mystery. After that we drove along winding roads to stop at a 5th Century abbey ruin where, to gain access, we had to climb the fence. Well worth it, because there were some very nice Celtic crosses in the adjoining graveyard. We had lunch at a village not too far from there and had an excellent (freshly caught) salmon meal. That was the best meal I had in Ireland. From there, a couple of pints later, we drove to the 6th Century Mellifont Abbey ruin and the site of the first use of ceramic tile in Ireland. After that we visited another highlight of the trip: Monasterboice. What I thought were tall industrial-age chimneys, were in fact old observation towers. It is part of a town from 421 AD that never developed. At the foot of those towers one can see the finest examples of Celtic Crosses in all of Ireland.

Back in hot Dublin, and Saturday afternoon's single man's hell. It was warm enough for bras to be virtually non-existent and the streets were packed. I went in to wash shirts in the tub and wondered what to do on my last day there. I decided on walking to the railroad station and taking a train to the west coast of Ireland. The walk was inordinately long. You can't miss the station, just walk along the stone-hemmed LA-esque river and you will get there. However, had I to do it again, I'd take a cab or bus. While considering limited train options on this Sunday morning, I heard a loud crash and a large crow fell dying to the floor. It apparently had not seen the glass that surrounds the top of the modern station building and crashed into it, hard enough to kill it.

As it was, I missed the train to my desired destination, and an express to an alternate. The next trains would run not until the afternoon and that would be pointless. I settled for a slow train to Killearney. At a stop somewhere, where I had to change trains, it started to absolutely pour. I bought a cup of hot chocolate, and the kind guy at the food and beverage kiosk gave me an umbrella that someone had left behind. Later that day, on the return trip, I managed to get it to station personnel to return it. That particular train went all the way to Dublin, so I did not have a chance to go to the food booth myself. The station personnel all know each other anyway. Earlier, on the train to Killearney, I noticed the landscape changing and sheep and cattle in rugged territory dotted with wind-twisted trees were the predominate feature. This coast does not have the benefit the Gulfstream to provide warmth, such as the Irish East coast receives, where one can even find palm trees growing in Ireland. Killearney, so I discovered, is a rather popular weekend escape for the Dublin citizens, with lots of little shops, a new railroad station outlet mall, restaurants, and horse-drawn carriages. It turned out to be a really nice little place to visit. No more no less. The following day had me retrace my steps to the Dublin airport for the miniscule 20 minute Ryan Air Boeing 737 flight back to Glasgow.

A picture guide to Dublin & Ireland

Liverpool 13 MAY 01

I took the west coast express from Glasgow to Preston, where I changed trains to a local commuter to Liverpool. Earlier, coming up on Carlisle, I saw miles and miles of empty meadows. All grazing land that was devoid of life because of the Mad Cows disease. It was almost a shock, when many miles later, the land was seemingly packed with sheep and cattle once more. The little commuter train stopped at every town and village, so it seemed, making a relatively short distance stretch into an interminably long ride. At last I arrived. What I could see of downtown Liverpool was not much to write home about. It is an old not very appealing industrial city much in need of a coat of paint. I took a cab, yes, one of the classic large black boxy ones, to the Dolby Hotel. It started to rain and continued to do so, with varying intensity, for the entire stay there. Late that evening, after having settled into my reasonably nice and modern room, I took my umbrella and strolled along the Mersey River. It was cool, in a way. Thinking that it and this city was part of what inspired British "Rock Wave" of the 60 and maybe early 70s. From what I saw, there was much new construction along the River and later found out that a very nice condo/townhouse is just around $60K. Many with of them had Mersey River or delta view or were at least mere steps from a great riverside promenade, leading to the Albert Dock. The next morning I went over to the Albert Dock and considered it probably the most promising area of Liverpool. Unfortunately, the Beatles bus tour, the reason I went to Liverpool, did not run yet. I guess, being way ahead of tourist season and the weather being what it was, would have made for very low attendance. The Albert Dock, now converted from maritime dock storage buildings to hotels, restaurants, and shops is a great place to explore. Past it, there are some historical buildings and a maritime museum. If you have time, you can take the ferry ride across the Mersey. I did not, and was not even sure if the ferry was running that morning. The river was blanketed in dense fog. Between fog and rain I called the Liverpool experience a bust and quickly packed to get an early start for my trip back to London. Made the train in time and then, after numerous strange jerky movements, the train stopped. We were told that one of the four motors was out of synchronization and would have to be shut down. They moved the engine around the train to the back to see if things improved, but to no avail. We ended up sitting on the tracks for about an hour until a spare engine was brought in from some depot before the trip continued. Luckily, I have always books with me, and killed much that time reading.

A city guide to Liverpool

London 14 MAY 01

Got into London and made a bee-line to the excellent LA Fitness Gym, near St. Paul's Cathedral, where 24 HR Fitness members can work out for free. I found myself tired, after three days of packing and unpacking and hauling my 60 lbs backpack around. Still, it was good to be back. After that it was a trip to the London Tower and I was very impressed with the history, the crown jewels, and the extensive collection of weaponry. The next day was spent in the British Museum. A day, or part of a day, is hardly sufficient. It is surely one of the greatest museum in existence, and, from what I can tell, is even more densely packed with historically significant items than the Louvre. Aside from eye-watering Egyptian and Roman displays, one not to miss is the Sutton Hoo burial display. The items found there are absolutely astonishing and give a great insight into the early Anglo-Saxon period. The original archeological site was actually a large Viking-style ship, that had been used as burial vessel for an Anglican king. The ship itself is totally decomposed, but all of the other items recovered comprise, without doubt, the largest and most significant single find of that period (5th or 6th Century, I think) in England. A second future visit to the British Museum is definitely planned. While there, I also enjoyed the traveling Cleopatra exhibit, which I believe, went from there to the US. The central square of the museum is now totally roofed and turned into a marble plaza and outstanding museum social hub. I thoroughly enjoyed my last day in London later and hung around the Buckingham Palace gate to see Tony Blair in his British-Racing-Green Jaguar limousine drive up for his daily 5 pm visit with the Queen. While there I also watched the not very exciting change of the guards.

The next morning I just had time to eat a light breakfast and then take the tube from Paddington Station to Waterloo Station for the Eurostar terminal there, and my return trip to Paris.

An email:

Hi Cara: On my way to France. I woke up to torrential rains. Now it stopped for a bit. Being in the gym for the first time since I left London last was good, but very tiring. Not until I got my second wind did I perk up. I guess, lugging my heavy pack for three days, packing (Dublin) unpacking and packing (Liverpool), and unpacking (London) took its toll. Now two more days of this (Paris and Caen) then I have at least two days (Caen) and then three days (Rennes), before I have a nice five nights in Madrid and a 24HR Fitness gym at my disposal. In any case, I slept well and feel much better today. In two hours I will catch the Eurostar Express to Paris. Thought I'd drop a quick line while I am waiting for departure. Right now there's Pakistani religious music playing in the background. In Dublin, the little shop where I bought my skim milk every morning, I got to listen to Japanese pop. Love it.

Finally back in London and ready to spend a few hours at the LA Fitness. |The Dublin gym was so shitty that I didn't even bother. Plus the guy had the audacity to ask admission for that shithole. It's raining, and I know this place so well so I dashed in here and write a few notes.
I greatly enjoyed Scotland and managed to tour the lot of it. The Britrail pass came in handy. I also took a tour of the highlands as far as Inver, the town north of Loch Ness. Next I traveled to Dublin and after a first really disappointing impression, I warmed up to the place. Getting away from the inner city, I called it a Concrete Jungle and the Irish agreed, made all the difference in the world. I did a tour and used my Eurail Pass and traveled around. Great place and big difference between the East and the West Coast of Ireland. There are palm trees growing on the east coast. Then back to Glasgow and to Liverpool. It started to pour and I toured the Mersey Riverside at night in heavy rain. Today I did a daylight tour of the Albert Dock. It was drizzling and I was early. Lost patience with the whole thing and decided to get back to London. I know where to go here and what to do. My great gym is waiting and I am eager to get there and put a couple of hours in. Tomorrow the same in Paris. So it goes. I am getting a bit tired and miss my home environment and routine. I am, at this time, greatly looking forward to my two-week stay in Düsseldorf once more. Friends, a nice gym, and R&R. Between now and then things will be quite a bit more stressfull. Lots of packing and moving.
I finished the "Hadj". Same opinion. A superb read. I hope you can get your hands on it.