If I Made a Mixtape....

This is the soundtrack to the trip:

Ceremony, New Order
Nobody Knows My Name, Rickie Lee Jones
Grace Kelly, Mika
Here I Am, Emmylou Harris
The Knife, Grizzy Bear
Sweet Thing, Van Morrison
You & Your Strange Ways, Sleeping States
I Got It Bad and That Ain’t Good, Esther Phillips
River Man (N Drake), Brad Mehldau
Amor mio, si muero y tú no mueres, Lorraine Hunt Lieberson
Music for 18 Musicians, #14, Steve Reich
Harvest Moon, Cassandra Wilson (on YouTube, really remarkable)

Paris IV

I'm sad to say that I can now count my remaining full days in Europe on one hand. I would have thought that the trip would have flown by, but it doesn't feel that way at all. I can imagine that if I were in New York, the same amount of time would have gone so fast I’d not have noticed it—I hear that it has been cold? Gosh, it’s been quite warm Paris.

It was nice to have Andrew here--he left last Wednesday. Paris is really not that big of a city; while we were walking around we discovered that every day we unexpectedly ended up somewhere we’d been a day or two before. One day we went to the Luxembourg Gardens, I looked up the rue, saw a grand-looking structure, and said, "Should we go look at that?" We decided against it. The next day we set out for the Pantheon and when we got there found ourselves looking in the other direction down the rue at the Luxembourg Gardens. We had some good meals and a lot of crepes. I managed to make chicken stock from a left over roasted chicken I bought one night, and the next day for lunch I made a successful caramelized leek risotto. (Stay tuned: I've been on a risotto kick ever since.) We saw a fun movie called "Paris, je t'aime" one night. Unfortunately Andrew got food poisoning from some shady Chinese food he insisted on eating and was ill for most of his last day here. But he's home safely now.

I went to the Picasso Museum on Wednesday, which was pretty fantastic. Thursday I went to the Père Lachaise Cemetery and saw the tombstones of Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde, Isadora Duncan, Chopin (ok, I couldn't find Chopin, but I must have been really close), and others. It was darkly funny, trying to find Jim Morrison’s grave, which is completely tucked away and hard to find; there was a crew of us going up and down the isles of the section where he was supposed to be, and when someone finally found it, he shouted "Ici!" and we all rushed to gather round and stood there very awkwardly; it was definitely anticlimactic. Friday I had expected to go to the Musée d'Orangerie to see the Water Lilies, but the line was a mile long and so I opted for the Musée Rodin instead, which was very nice. Yesterday I went out on a mission for the perfect wooden spoon, which I found, along with a battery-operated scale I'd been thinking about for a while. I wandered around the Île St-Louis, where I found some lovely olive oil and truffle oil, and the Marais and les Halles. This morning I got myself out of bed by 9:00--this has only happened once or twice while I've been here--and went to the market at the Bastille, where I bought some wonderful cheese, fougasse olive bread, and amazing fluer de sel.

When I haven't been sightseeing or shopping I've been cooking and thinking about food. I just love shopping for food here. I will sorely, sorely miss the heaps of endive everywhere, and the cheese shops, and the baguettes--oh, man, the baguettes--and the thick asparagus spears... One could almost juice the asparagus, they're so succulent. I made a wonderful risotto with them last night. One day I found some amazing Basque bleu cheese, which I sprinkled over endive, and dressed with very expensive olive oil, a few grinds of black pepper, and a dash of fleur de sel. Amazing. I had the same thing for lunch today, except that I threw in the chilled leftover asparagus. I also made beef stroganov one night, which turned out pretty well.

I'm not sure how I'll spend my remaining days here..... I'm a little tired of museums. I hope to go to either Versailles or Rouen on Tuesday or Wednesday, and am even considering leaving for a night to visit Nice. We'll see.

Paris III

So a busy few days and I've let too much time pass to sum it all up adequately.....

On Wednesday I finally made it to the Hergé exhibit at the Pompidou, which--though my understanding of Tintin and Snowy and all that Hergé stands for in Europe is extremely shallow--I really did enjoy. I think that Charles Schultz might be a good American counterpart, except that Tintin's European and historical context seems to make it a different kind of artifact.

That night I had dinner with my London friend Matthew, who took me out with some of his Paris friends to a very American restaurant; I ordered a hamburger. My French may have improved a bit then amongst the natives. This was Valentine's day, and on my way to the Metro I had an excellent view of the Eiffel Tower all lit up and sparkling.

Thursday I had my hotly anticipated cooking class with Paule (www.promenadesgourmandes.com). I was mistaken thinking it would be a private course; there were three other middleaged American women also participating (some things in my life will never change: I know that I'll always get along famously with middleaged American women). This was a major highlight of my trip. Paule is a very, very smart, enigmatic, talented, and entertaining instructor--someone needs to let her do a cooking show in the US. She took us on a tour of the market at the Bastille and we then went to her kitchen to make a four course lunch (delicious cream of califlower soup, twice-baked savoury soufleé, "nage de poisson," which is a kind of poached fish dish that included the best scallops I've ever tasted, and then tarte au chocolat. We also had a cheese tasting to get things going. The second half of the afternoon was spent on a gourmet walking tour: to a spice shop, a chocolate wholesaler, a cookware wholesaler, an amazing wine shop, and then actually into the kitchen of the Poiâne bakery (there was also a bit of sightseeing along the way). Here's a photo of our motley crew:


My pal Andrew arrived that night and will be staying for a few more days. We've been lounging around a bit, usually heading out for some sightseeing in the afternoons, which is bookended by a late lunch and dinner. On Friday we explored les Hallles and other parts of the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 9th arrondissments--we stopped inside the Eglise de St-Eustache, a cathedral modeled after Notre Dame but which I found almost more affecting because it was empty, and then made way to Shakespeare & Co. Saturday was an absolutely beautiful day and we climbed to the Sacre-Coeur (photos below). (Andrew is to the left, considering the view.)


That night we met up with Dilys and Tass, my hosts in London, who were in Paris for the day to see the Tintin exhibit, and had a delicious bottle of champagne.

Today was another gorgeous spring day and we went to the Champs Elyseés and explored around a bit until it became unbearable--it was a mob scene.

And at some point we decided to eat a crèpe and go home. At some point we'll have to eat dinner.

Paris II

I managed to "stumble" upon the Notre Dame cathedral. I was very, very impressed. There was a choir rehearsing and I sat there for over an hour listening to them. Unbelieveably gorgeous, absolutely wonderful, save all the camera flashes (what do people do with all their pictures of the Notre Dame when they get home?). I also explored the Ile de la Cité--found many, many beautiful things to admire--and then crossed the Pont Neuf and sort of grazed through the Champs-Elysées. I was at that point very hungy and with sore feet, so I wasn't very diligent about soaking it all in, but I shall return. Here's another pic:

I spent a day exploring the Marais, which I found to be mostly closed on a Sunday, and later ate the greatest baguette of my life. I came home and tried to make a fish dish that was decent, but the name of the fish was lost in translation and what I cooked wasnt' exactly what I was expecting. Monday was my birthday and I--well, my Dad--treated myself to a new pair of shoes from a really wonderful little shop in the Marais which my aforementioned friend Matthew had reccommended. I complained to the sales person of my sore feet and he told me that the shoes I was wearing were almost three sizes too small; these were the shoes that were giving me such grief in Barcelona and Venice. In any case, his parting words were, "Walk better!," and since then I've had no problems. My friend Linnea--who is a friend of Kathryn's from Mt. Holyoke--lives in Paris and invited me over for dinner that night; her boyfriend, who along with her and her other friends who were present had all recently graduated from Le Cordon Bleu, prepared one of the most memorable dinners of my life.... this porcini mushroom risotto was really something worth hurting yourself for. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Here's a pic that was taken towards the end of the evening, obviously:

And at some point on Monday I had my first run-in with a really, REALLY rude French woman. I won't go into the details, but I want to mark it here as a kind of expunging so that I will stop dwelling on it.

And a great deal of today was spent recovering from last night's fun. I did manage to meet my friend Ilsa's friend Joe, who had all kinds of nuggets of advise regarding Paris and the French and who was also a pleasure to meet. I made some Indian for myself for dinner and am just about to go to bed.

Bonne nuit!

I Love Paris

I've just attempted a coq au vin that wasn't bad, but wasn't great either, and I've had a bottle of wine, and I'm eying my bed suspiciously, so I should probably reconsider this blog post, but in the current state I'll probalby go through with it.

I love Paris. No, I LOVE Paris. I desire Paris. I have an abnormal need for Paris. I want to be Paris.

I really, really, really like Parirs. I like to imagine that Paris has the same magnetic draw to me that I feel to it, even though I can also picture myself being the sucker going in for the kill. Regardless, the rest of my trip--I have exactly 23 days--will be devoted to figuring out how I can never, ever have to leave.

I arrived last night, via the Chunnel/Eurostar from London. A comfortable train ride and minimal problems getting to the apartment. I went to the grocery store and had cheese (sadly, it was kind of bad cheese) and bread (actually it was bad, too) and wine (no comment) for dinner (I bought it all at a nearby grocery store and now know where I can find the really good stuff) and then fell asleep.

My apartment is amazing. I'm renting one in the Montmarte, basically across the street from the ninth arrondissment. It has absolutely everything I need and ever want. I am, again, duly spoiled. Pictures:


The "Villa."


The parlour, with the kitchen behind.


The bedroom.

Today I explored the neighborhood, realizing that I'm a five minute hike from the Basilique Sacre-Couer, which offers amazing views of the city, and other sights in the 18th arrondissement, the Cemetiere de Montmarte, the Moulin Rouge, and other food attractions, etc. I got a wide range of propositions from the various sex shops, only bits of which I understood. I decided at some point late in the afternoon to make coq au vin for dinner, and I bought all my ingredients at a nearby open market.

As soon as I start taking pictures I will post them. Bonsoir!

London Finale

Sadly, the London chapter is about to close. I'm leaving this city feeling very good about it and sure that it won't be long before I'm back. I can imagine living here.

Tomorrow--the plot thickens--I leave for Paris!

These last few days I've been able to buy into the fantasy that I do actually live here. It's been kind of a lush life with the dog and this beautiful house (is it a flat if it's got more than one floor?). While watching TV last weekend I saw some show with this singer/songwriter named Mika on it and I was oddly compelled. Then I found out that he was giving a free show Monday night, so I went into town for that. It was good, but disappointing since he only sang three songs. I had never heard of him before, but maybe he's already an underground sensation in the US? Kind of in the vein of Rufus Wainwright, Queen, Elton John, etc.; I think he calls it 'powerpop.'

After the show I had arranged to meet with my friend Ilsa's friend Matthew. We went to dinner at a decent Italian place and then to a pub. This was lots of fun. He manages the UK branch of Nonesuch Records and offered to send me some CDs; instead, I stopped by his office to pick them up the next day. I walked away with a tote bag full of some incredible music.

Last night, I wanted to see another play--I really wanted to see The Seagull, but had no luck getting a ticket--and so Matthew joined me for my second viewing of _Rock 'n' Roll_; it was just as good, if not better, the second time. Also, yesterday, on the advise of another friend named Matthew, I visited a little bookstore called Persephone Books. They are a small publisher of reissued 19th and early-mid 20th century women's fiction and nonfiction (very similar to The Feminist Press, where I used to work), and the packaging is absolutely gorgeous. I bought two old cookbooks, one called _Plats du Jour_ and the other called _Kitchen Essays_. I've only skimmed them so far, but they are very fun.

In sum, these are a few observations from my time in London. I'll add more as I think of them.
- Men here consume a lot of the world's hairgel (and designer jeans, too)
- When you blow your nose, the snot is black
- The pedestrian does not have the right of way
- Cilantro is called coriander and arugula is called rocket
- An ounce in the US is not the same as an ounce in the UK

And today I've been lazily gathering up all my things, doing laundry, getting packed, listening to all my new CDs, and reading James's _Washington Square_. It's been fun. I started drinking wine earlier than usual, in preparation for Paris.

RLJ

Just a quick interlude... Ricke Lee Jones's new album _The Sermon on Exposition Boulevard_, was out yesterday. It's kind of a leap off into the deep end, but there's a neat article in Monday's New York Times! Also, she's going to be on David Letterman on Feb 12--would anyone be able to tape it for me?

London V

I took this picture just before Princess Basket left for the weekend with some friends of Dilys and Tass. In the few days that I spent with Basket, I've taken more pictures of her than of all my Europe pictures combine. It's a compulsion; I can't help myself.

Friday was a terrific day. I had wanted to take a cooking class in London but waited until the last minute to do any research. I was very lucky to find Ren, who teaches private Indian Cookery classes, and she squeezed me in. (You can visit her website here.) For four hours, I learned about Indian cooking and got to know Ren a bit, and best of all, I came home with a grocery bag full of the food I had prepared: a delicious chicken curry, saag paneer, and vegetable samosas. It was delicious and is all gone.

Then that night I went to Sadler's Wells for an evening of samples from their Spring and Fall dance season, which was a great introduction to some European/UK choreography. I was really impressed by: a UK dance group called Random Dance, Joson Samuels Smith's US tap dance group (I will look into them when I'm back), and the UK choreogropher Hofeesh Shecter--this guy is really good, though a little verbose. Hip-hop dance theater was also included, with a French group called Vagabond Crew. It is remarkable to watch--it's got the structure and thematic organization of modern dance with a lot of shockingly impossible breakdancing--even if a little full of itself (there, I said it), but then again maybe not exactly my thing.

Saturday was a gorgeous day in London, and I went back to Notting Hill to see the Portabello Street Market. Lots of antiques and LOTS of people, and also some produce and other foods. I also spent more time walking around Notting Hill, which I think is such a beautiful neighborhood, and then came back to Islington, found a wine bar, and read a book. Then I came to the house and made butternut squash risotto and watched three back-to-back episodes of Desperate Housewives.

I'm not sure what the plan is for today, but I realize that I haven't got a lot of time left to see the theater I want to see, so I'm going to check that out. And I'm still dying to see Notes on a Scandal.

London IV

So I've just posted some pictures. It's kind of a drag to upload them, so I interspersed them in the posts where they belong; you'll have to scroll through the old posts if you're interested in seeing them.

I think that the greatest merit of traveling this way (I guess it would define it as traveling kind of ignorantly: though I've got a tall stack of guide books and an abstract idea of what I want to do here, I really know very little about the cities I'm visiting) is that there's endless opportunities for me to be surprised. This has happened everywhere so far--in Venice and Barcelona, coming around corners to find breathtaking cathedrals, and in London to suddenly come face to face with a favorite Jackson Pollack--and it is absolutely thrilling. I've always wanted to see the Taj Mahal, but I imagine that it wouldn't be nearly as great to plan a trip to the monument as it would if I were to trip it unexpectedly.

Last night I had the pleasure of 'stumbling' upon a play. It is called 'There Came a Gypsy Riding' by Frank McGuinnness. I knew of the theater (the Almeida), where all sorts of world class stuff has happened, and I know a bit about Frank McGuinness; but I didn't know that Eileen Atkins and Imedlda Staunton were in it. Though the play has flaws, I think I saw a once-in-a-lifetime performance. Actors absolutely giving their everything. It was truly amazing. I love this.

Otherwise, I'm carrying on with Princess Basket (actually, her name is just Basket, but I like the 'Princess' part). Yesterday I took her off her leash at the park. She went wandering in the bushes and dug up some unidentifiable bone. I then spent upwards of an hour chasing her around a large round rose garden, trying to get her to mind me and give up the bone. She'd have none of it. I know now that I have my share of humility: not many people could take themselves seriously while running in circles around a rose garden screaming 'BEEFY TREAT! BEEFY TREAT!' (with a sandwich bag of poop dangling in hand, too). This was my attempt at enticing the dog to behave.

London III

My dogsitting stint has begun. I have figured out how to upload photos and will do so either today or tomorrow; I'll include here a picture of Princess Basket. She is almost unbearably adorable. And for the first time, I'm sharing my bed with a dog. Usually they want nothing to do with me.

I'm adopting a new pace with the dogsitting, minding the gorgeous home where I'd been staying in London, going on walks several times a day with the pup, playing with and gathering up noisy dog toys, doing some cooking, even watching a bit of TV. This has been fun.

I returned to London on Friday night. Dilys and Tass took me for dinner to a nearby gastropub--I think it qualifies as a gastropub--and we had a really good meal. Then they took off the next morning. Among the exciting things I did: laundry, made soup, walked Basket, bought two books, and watched Will & Grace. Sunday I did some writing--I've resolved to do at least an hour each day that I'm here--and more cooking (I'm becoming slightly obsessed with Nigel Slater), and I also saw Babel. I'd love to talk to someone about the movie. I'm not sure how I feel, but I don't think I was too impressed.

Yesterday I did some of the same, and in the afternoon ventured out to Kensington. It's a very affluent neighborhood, obviously. I popped in Regent's Park, walked around, went through Harrod's, and then stopped at a cafe to do some reading. Last night I met up with my friend Erin's boyfriend's friends Markland and Ed. Markland has a band named Sleeping States (here's the band's website), which had a show at a pub in Shoreditcth. I managed to walk there from the house and really enjoyed myself. Markland is very taleted. You should check out the band. We might all meet up again next week.

Today I'm going to try to see another play, Amy's View, I think, and maybe make it back over to the Tate Modern.

Venice, or 'More Cheap Wine!'

I arrived in Venice on Tuesday night. Just as the bus dropped me off in the city, it began to rain, and it was dark, and due to the crap map of the city that is in my Let's Go guide, I was having a lot of trouble finding my hotel. I wandered around for more than an hour, crossing the same bridges over and over again, going in an out of alleys that were eerily familiar, worried that I was getting seriously lost and would have to camp out on the streets for my first night. With my foot not any better and my stomach growling, I was at the point of either crumbling on the pavement into a ball of sobs and moans or slaughtering something when I looked up, and like some damn omen, there was my hotel, right smack in front of me.



By the next morning, a gorgeous, crisp day, Venice appeared to me as the brilliant maze I was hoping it would be. I walked a great deal. The night before, I had met a few ladies from Munich who assured me that 'you can't get lost in Venice,' even though I had just an hour earlier, but I still took their word and just started walking. I bought a good map, too. I stumbled upon the fish market, a great deal of shops selling watches, blown glass, clothes, and wine, I found the Piazza San Marco, and took a ferry boat thing through the Grand Canal. I found a fantastic little wine shop where wine was sold in enormous barrels and for 2.94 euro, I got a 1.5 liter bottle (a recycled water bottle, even) of pinio grigio that was delicious. It was a difficult task to finish the whole thing in the two days while I stayed at my hotel, but I rose to the occasion.

For dinner that night I went walking in the San Croce district, where I found a place called Osteria Moncenigo. (I had been given restaurant recommendations, but I still don't understand how addresses work in this city; it is absolutely impossible to find anything that isn't already marked on my map.) I had--for 1.8 euro--a half litre of the house white (delicious), a primi of paparbelle granceto asparagi (also delicious, a light, flat and wide noodle pasta with asparagus), and 'seppie in nero con polenta': I didn't know what seppie was, but I did want to have polenta at some point in Italy. It turns out that seppie is a squid-like fish called scuttlefish. It was clearly very fresh, and the black sauce that it was cooked in was made from the scuttlefish's ink sacks. Apparently it's a local specialty. I enjoyed being adventurous, but doubt I'd order it again.

The next day it snowed. I was tempted to stay in with my pinio grigio and my book (I just finished _Notes on a Scandal_), but I forced myself out into the storm and for the first half hour or so I was pretty miserable. But then I hooked myself up to my ipod, played some Van Morrison, and, despite being ill prepared for snow and really irritated with the deceptively deep puddles everywhere, I experienced a sort of willful surrender to the moment. I found myself seriously enjoying getting lost. I stopped in a small market and bought bread, a local Gorgonzola cheese, and some delicious salami, and then found my way back to my hotel, laid out my meal on my bed, poured a glass of pinio grigio, and had probably one of the best afternoons of my life.



I found another out-of-the way restaurant, Oggi al Timon, and had amazing lasagne for dinner; it was so delicate and the cheese was so ripe, almost like souffle..... I've never had anything like it. Then I ordered another polenta plate, but this time it came drenched in a Gruyere-like cheese that was a bit rich for me, but still very good.

And this afternoon I'm returning to London, to start the dogsitting stint. I'm looking forward to my slippers and seeing a few movies. And I'm going to start reading some Henry James.

Kippers

The salted fish in my salad from the restaurant in Barcelona are called Kippers.

Barcelona

A quick recap....

My last few days in London I spent getting a haircut, exploring Camden Town, crossing multiple bridges on foot (the London, the Tower, the Mellinium, which didn´t wobble), and exploring the Globe Theater and the Tate Modern. I really had no idea of what to expect at the Tate Modern except that it came highly recommended by everyone I know. The building itself is awesome, but the thrill of stumbling on paitings which I had no idea were in its collection--Jackson Pollacks, Mark Rothkos, Picassos, Matisse´s, etc--was incredible to experience. There is a room of Rothkos, and I had it all to myself for about ten minutes. I will definitely spend more time there. I also stumbled upon Burough Market, where all kinds of merchants sell their gourmet foods. It is a big slice of heaven for me, and a bottomless pit to toss my money. I bought some soda bread and a brownie.

Friday I took off for Barcelona. It´s very nice here, with some psychadelic arcitecture and warm weather, and--slap me here, please--CHEAP WINE. I went to the market and for about four dollars came back with a Tolberone bar, a bottle of decent red, and a tube of q-tips. I found a perfect hostel where I have my own quaint little bedroom with a balcony overlooking a construction site and lots air-drying laundry.

I´m really wishing I knew Spanish. I really don´t know anything except for counting 1 to 10, which somehow stuck from my childhood. I´m doing a lot of smiling and pointing at menus and nodding wildly. I hate to think about what a fool I might be making of myself. In fact, I´ve found it best to say as little as possible: this way, though it´s utterly clear that I don´t speak Spanish, there may be some mystery about my nationality.

I´ve done a great deal of walking. In fact, my feet are killing me. In the Barri Gòtti the streets are narrow and go every which way, and more than once I took off for one destination only to find, half an hour later, that I´d come full circle right back to where I started. Most times, I wasn´t too happy about this. I stumbled upon the Santa Maria del Mar, a breathtaking cathedral, and also went to the La Sagrada Familia, which was also quite a sight. Food has been quite good. I really like the coffee, I don´t know why it´s so much better, and one night I had some delicious tapas--a mushroom soup, a salad of greens, plump grapes, and these salted fish which I can´t remember the name of, and then a rabbit and sweet potato dish. And all the food has been pretty reasonable.

Last night, while nursing my foot, I finished Alan Hollinghurst´s _The Line of Beauty_. I like it very much. It´s the third book that I´ve read while over here--I can´t begin to describe the joy of reading for pleasure, and having the time to do it.

This afternoon I´m taking off for Venice. I don´t know what to expect, but I plan on a crash course in Italian.

I hope all´s well........

LV

London II

I had a mellower day yesterday. I found my way around Notting Hill (no Hugh Grant sightings, but I'll let you know, Stephanie) and spent a few hours at Books for Cooks, where I could have also spent an absolute fortune. And last night I saw Tom Stoppard's play, _Rock 'n' Roll_, which I thought was exhilirating. I'm going to buy a Pink Floyd album today. Tom Stoppard is really a genius... I might have to go see it again.

Scotland / Ireland

Last Friday began with me finding a three-inch-long hair growing out of my shoulder; I should have guessed that something was a little bit off.

Friday is when I took off for my Edinburgh/Dublin adventure. I had a few hours to burn in London before my flight, so I decided to venture into Notting Hill. I'm completely shameless walking around with the A to Z map of London in my hand, out in the open. But during my search for Books for Cooks in Notting Hill, I was so lost that even the map was no use. A very regal old woman who gestured firmly with the hand that held a lit cigarette approached me on the street and offered help; she knew of the bookstore. Unfortunately I couldn't understand a word she was saying, so I just smiled and nodded and took off into what was probably the wrong direction. I never found the bookstore, and I'm okay with that (I will make it there eventually) because I feel so fortunate to have stumbled upon a Tube station which got me home in time.

My flight to Edinburgh left from the Luton airport, which is a train ride away. Aside from not being able to make sense of the timetables, I had little trouble getting there. Instead, when passing through security with my e-ticket, the security guard kindly informed me that I had missed my flight--by a whole day. In my eagerness to buy the airline ticket, I bought it for the wrong date. My bargain of a £10 ticket was suddenly a £90 debt.

However, I arrived in Edinburgh to find that, even at 11:00 PM, it was the most beautiful city I'd ever seen. I knew of the castle, but had no idea that it figured so prominently in the city. And the cobblestone streets, and all the stone, and the narrow alleys and 'chases' (I think that's what they are called--staircases that have been carved out from in between buildings) and all the greenery just beyond...... It really is an awesome city. I went straight to my hostel, but I wasn't quite prepared for the hostel experience. I knew that it wouldn't be all that elegant, but I didn't realize that I'd be staying in what seemed to have been a garage with bunkbeds. I slept with my long johns tucked into my socks that night, and actually didn't sleep at all because the man across from me snored so loudly and gluttonously that he must have been dreaming of eating a live animal.

The next morning I found a little breakfast cafe where I had the most disgusting scrabbled eggs I could have ever imagined (I think they were made from powder; absolutely awful), which were mushed up against a can of sweet white beans. I know that this is part of the full English breakfast or something, but I couldn't stomach it. Everyone was very nice, though, and they had very good internet. Next I went to visit the Edinburgh castle. It's been fashioned into a tourist attraction, with mannequins and music and gift shops and cafes everywhere, which disappointed me a little bit. The views, however, were spectacular. I have many pictures, but can't yet load them onto the blog (I'll figure out how soon, I promise.) Then I got the idea to walk to the ocean. Somehow I chose the wrong direction to take off in, and didn't realize it until I'd been walking for at least an hour. In this time, though, I saw some gorgeous cemeteries and churches and other architecture. I also stopped at the Fruitmarket Gallery, where there was an interesting exhibit called 'Preserves.' I can't remember the artist, possibly because I wasn't too impressed with the exhibit, but the galley itself is very nice, and I had an excellent lunch at the gallery cafe.

I then meet up with my friend Meghan's friend, Vicky. We went for a pint and then her fiance Brendan met up with us and we all went to a Spanish tapas restaurant, which was great; then we went to a few more pubs--I had some delicious Scottish whiskey; I'd never liked whisky before. Vicky and Brendan were the most gracious hosts. I mentioned my slight dissatisfaction with the hostel arrangement and they then insisted that I crash on their sofa (I got a much better night's sleep because of it!). And they treated me to the terrific dinner and fixed an excellent sausage and egg breakfast the next morning. I will forever love the Scots because of them.

On Sunday I flew into Dublin. It took me a day to warm up to the city. After being the recipient of such hospitality and being so impressed by the architecture, I was a little disappointed to be out on my own in a city not nearly as beautiful, checking into a lonely bed and breakfast (which was more like a Holiday Inn than what I imagined a B&B to be). I explored Trinity College (I saw the Book of Kells, which I shamefully had known nothing about beforehand) and then the Temple Bar area, where I saw a fascinating exhibit by an early 20th century photographer of Native American Indians at the Irish Museum of Photography. I found some remarkable buildings, but otherwise was a little overwhelmed by all the shopping. I did have a really fantastic dinner at a place called Gruel, though: some of the best beef stew I've ever tasted. The next day I went to the Dublin Writer's Museum, which was a very cool place with first editions of Wilde, Joyce, Beckett, etc, as well as other items such as Beckett's telephone and Joyce's piano, and then took my lunch into the park on the south side (I can't remember it's name right now.... Saint something). I met up that night with a friend of my former colleague Wendie, named Aisling. She is a great deal of fun, and showed me around the city, offering Irish names for some of the statues (the statue of James Joyce is known as 'The Prick with a Stick'). She took me out for a pint, of course, then we went for dinner to a delicious Italian place, and then out for a pub crawl that ended in me not being quite so bothered by the cigarette burns in my B&B bedspread, which had so kept me from being comfortable the night before.


At Aisling's recommendation, I took the Dart (a train) out of the city to Howth, a fishing town that was exquisite, except that I had a lunch that was pretty bad--a chicken and mushroom pie that tasted like canned clam chowder with a slab of puff pastry on top. When I returned to Dublin, I bought some Irish cheeses from Sheridan's Cheesemonger (which Aisling had also recommended that I visit) to bring back to London with me. Those were delicious.

In the end, I left Dublin quite fond of it. And now I'm back in London with my terrific hosts Dilys and Tass, exhausted, with the mishaps behind me (aside from a £22 ticket I got on my way back in... it was unjust, I'm going to appeal) and ready for bed. I've already worn my shoes thin and will have to pick up some new ones tomorrow.

London

A few adventures to report:

Yesterday was spent doing a bunch of research in preparation for my Scotland/Ireland escapade. I'm going to risk RyanAir. One can't argue with a £10 airline ticket.

I went to a really wonderful Edward Hockney exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery--you might be able to find some samples here. Then I explored the Strand, which reminds me very much of Times Square, had a steak and ale pie that seemed kind of mysterious at the time, and then made my way to St. Martin's-of-the-Field for a chamber music concert by candlelight. The music was nice--there was a beautiful Tchaikovsky serenade, a tango-like thing by an Argentinian composer whose name I can't remember, and a few Bach concertos for one and two violins. But for some reason I was expecting hordes of candles, and this wasn't the case--there was just a handful of candles scattered around--and then they had spotlights hooked up for the performance.

Also, I had no idea I'd have to purchase performance programs. I think that's dumb.

I'm off to explore Notting Hill today, and then off for Edinburgh in the evening. Will talk soon..........

LV

Arrival

The title of this blog did not allow room for the subtitle I had imagined; I wanted something like "and other adventures in Europe." Because I'm doing much more than dogsitting. In fact, the dogsitting hasn't even begun yet. But it is very difficult to come up with a title for a blog.

Be forewarned: After just a few days, I'm finding myself enunciating my t's and thinking phrases up that contain words like 'quite' and 'lovely' and 'brilliant.' I hope that this phase goes away before I return home to NY. I feel like a Texan over here, my American dialect is so pronounced.

There were just two minor mishaps on the transit over. First, the gypsy cap that delivered me to the airport--it's back left tire blew out about two miles from the airport. To my surprise, he slowly and shakily continued for the rest of the way to the airport, probably doing quite a bit of damage to his car. Then the flight was delayed by more than two hours; there was some explaination of the flight being overbooked, and those that gave up their seats had luggage on the plane that needed to be removed (they had to pull all the luggage from the plane in order to locate one remaining suitcase; I'm still having trouble believing this). I sat next to a nice but fussy Belgian woman who wasn't particularly patient about the whole thing.

And arriving here has otherwise been just excellent. I really like the Underground--cushioned seats! It runs as silently as a ceiling fan! IPods at a resonable volume level!--and I seem to be having little trouble finding my way around. Yesterday I tried to get familiar with the neighborhood where I'm staying, Islington, and then explored Soho and the West End on foot. My hosts Dilys and Tass took me out to a proper pub for dinner and I found the food to be surprisingly good. And today I went to the British Gallery--the Reading Room, I have pictures of it, it's totally breathtaking--and the British Library, which holds both the Magna Carta and scraps of paper on which the Beatles had scribbled preliminary notes for a few of thier most well-known songs. They also had an audio recording of Virgina Woolf on the BBC radio discussing what it means to write in English; I don't think I'd heard her voice before. I like Bloomsbury very much. I kept imagining what it would be like to see VW roll by on a bicycle, or to find her rolling a cigarette on a park bench in Russell Square. Then tonight I saw Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake, which was absolutely exhilirating. If you ever have the opportunity, see it.

Here's a picture of the street on which I'm living.

And as for future plans, I expect to take off for Edinburgh on Friday, from there go to Dublin, return to London on Tuesday or so, and then somehow get to Spain for Barcelona and Madrid, and then return to London by the 26th, which is when I'll begin my 10-day dogsitting stint. And from there I go to Paris, where I'm staying put for 25 days. I will not complain.

I do like London very much. I've been lucky with the weather--today the sky was even blue for a large part of the day, and it hasn't yet been too cold. (Though Katie, I'll be prepared; I decided at the last minute to pack my vaccuum-sealed marshmellow parka.)

Once I figure out how, I'll put up a few photos. And I'll post another entry in a few days or so.......