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Published: July 20th 2008
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Shona and Em
At her mom's house (actually an old train station) Here I am, about to blog about Europe, while I'm already in Japan. How many times has this happened on this trip? Too many to count.
Before I begin, let me just brag that by the time I get back to Canada I'll have been around the world two whole times in the last two years - once clockwise and once counter-clockwise. Though by the time we get to October I may well have been around it two and a half times as I've been offered a job as an au paire (nanny) for a beautiful family (with a beautiful house) in France, and I think I'm going to take it.
Needless to say, I liked Europe enough to consider moving there. In fact, I LOVED Europe (even Greece!) with its inherent diversity, old world charm and the proximity of all countries to each other. Coming from Canada where we hardly travel to the States, they're so far away, the idea of being an hour-long flight from a completely different culture is this anthropophile's dream come true!
When I wrote my last entry I had made it to Scotland and was thoroughly enjoying my time with Shona, a
English Countryside
Discovered on a random discovery walk from Hemel to Berkhampstead favourite party-pal from my Calgary days. Having explored St. Andrew's and Edinburgh, it was finally time to explore Dundee as the weekend rolled around and Shona finished work. Despite being town-sized (it's actually the fourth largest city in Scotland, but feels like a small town), the shopping and entertainment do not disappoint. Sandwiched between our culinary forays into the likes of Scottish meat pies and full Scottish breakfasts (black sausage included) we had a fabulous, if I remember correctly, night out in three different bars with various sets of friends. We finished off my visit with a wonderful home-cooked meal at Shona's mom's house.
And then I was off again running to England the next day, reuniting with my old friend, Trev, who I hadn't seen since my exchange to Australia in 2001. Though one might think that it would be awkward to see someone in person after 7 years of intermittent e-mailing, it's nothing a bottle of wine and several beers can't surmount. So there we sat, my first night in England, planted on Trevor's couch, sloshed and chatting until 4 in the morning. I must commend Trev for his efforts to show me everything in the 4
The Really Good Life
House boats lining the canal in Hemel days I was with him; together we took in London, St. Alban's , Hemel Hampstead (where he lives) and even a trip to Wales for a hike up Mt. Snowdon, the highest peak in the country at 1085m.
By the time I reached my Laos travel-buddy, Koert, in Amsterdam, I was exhausted but there was no sleep to be had. Together we downed two coffees then roamed the street markets sampling a million kinds of cheese, stopping for pancakes and beers in various cafes along the way. While Koert was working I took advantage of some rainy days to relax and do little trips to the likes of Delft (home of the famous blue and white ceramics) and Utrecht (a good alternative to Amsterdam), before our biggest day trip together to the towns of Urk and Enkhauzen.
Koert's dad is originally from Urk, though this is always mentioned somewhat jokingly. It's known as an extremely traditional town where, until about a decade ago, people still dressed in traditional clothes, are devoutly religious and even speak their own dialect. But it was a wonderful place to see and one that is certainly not listed in the Lonely Planet. Since
Trev and Em
On our way down from a very rainy climb up to Mt. Snowdon in Wales Koert has family there we visited his uncle's restaurant (also known as a snack bar, but not in the Japanese sense of the term) where we were treated to a fat-laden feast of snack foods such as fricandellan, a sausage, which is battered, fried in lard and smothered with ketchup, mayonnaise and onions; croquettes, potato-and-meat-mash fried in batter; french fries, fried in lard then smothered with mayonnaise and ketchup or satay sauce; cassouffle, cheese, battered and fried in lard; and milkshakes. We finished off our visit with a trip to see his uncle's hobby farm and a visit for coffee with his aunt and cousins who fed us more dessert.
I would like to say that we ate salad for the next 3 days, but we didn't. We spent our last day together in Amsterdam, where we did what tourists are ACTUALLY supposed to do in Amsterdam - we saw the Anne Frank House. And then, of course, we went to a "coffe shop" (little did I know, they don't actually serve coffee in these establishments) and finished off with a round of the Red Light district.
By the time I made it to my friends in France,
Good Weather in Wales
What we should have waited for before climbing Mt. Snowdon... I was again thoroughly in need of detox, which they were happy to provide with their countryside home and gigantic swimming pool. I spent 4 blissful days "en famille (with the family)" doing nothing but eat cheese, swim and do a few local visits to Chartres and to see the fireworks for July 14th, Bastille Day, where they celebrate a grizzly uprising against the monarchy. Only on my last day did I venture into Paris, roaming around the beautiful Champs-Elysee and eventually taking refuge in the quiet santuary of Montmartre Basilica. I throroughly enjoyed the look and feel of the city (even if Parisians are reputed to be rude, I didn't notice anything of the sort), though I did decide that I would never again wear a dress there as the men were as sleazy as in the backwaters of Egypt (or India or Montreal or anywhere for that matter).
I still haven't mentioned, as it is hard to fit this type of comment into a jovial list of adventures, that halfway through my visit in Holland, I received troubling news that my friend Robin had died while hiking in the Rockies. He was one of the first friends
Triangular Housing
Old storage buildings turned housing in Amsterdam I had in Calgary, and an exemplary free-spirit who inspired me not to yield to the status quo of "settling down." This obviously put quite a damper on my trip and reminded me that, no matter how much you love a place, there is no place like home when bad things happen. Still, the very fact that one of Robin's last comments to me was to "keep living the life" has reassured me that there's no rush to get back to Canada.
This is a good outlook to have anyway, considering I have a month left of travel in Japan before I set foot in the homeland once again. Though I may not have given it rave reviews while I was living here, I must admit that I missed its wacky differences once I left. Like asking a drowning person why they love the sea, I couldn't have been 100% positive about the culture from Shibushi. But as a visitor, this is one fabulous place and I can't wait to rediscover it all with a new and refreshed perspective.
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Mom
non-member comment
As always - great pics!
I'm always amazed at how you can pack so much info. on your adventures into your blog. The Zaloum side shows too - a description of food included in most entries! Love it. Great photos, too. Keep on enjoying. Love, Mom