Tuesday, 01 August 2006

Europe Post No. 2
Okay, the posts begin. I actually lied, the first post was written somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean on a Boeing 757 shortly after dinnertime. After that, THEN we start in York.

7-9-2006: Flying... and flying... and flying...
Will drove us from Ludington to Grand Rapids. Dad quickly noticed he tore down the freeway at 80 mph most of the way. It probably was for the best, considering how much road construction (or destruction) we encountered. Jordan was right either way-they DID make a great big mess.

The GR airport was... well, the GR airport. Nothing too exciting happened there, except for a notice to not fly to Indonesia. They don't like security. The ticket service split everyone on the airplane to a different row, but Dad was right in front of me. I would have been all by myself and happily less-squashed but a resting airline pilot found the empty seat and asked if he could sit there. It was okay, though, because he was pleasant and interesting to converse with. The poor guy had barely eaten a thing all day so I gave him my tiny snack from the flight attendant with the excuse that I had eaten lunch-yay Arbys. His luggage said he was from Virginia Beach and flies those little Embraer ERJ cigar planes. It was some comfort especially when we hit turbulence-the plane got shaken around and dropped really fast for a couple of seconds, but he said it's nothing to worry about it and even explained what was happening and why. I also learned he earned a business degree, wants to get an MBA, and his girlfriend will soon be a speech pathologist in a local school. Probably the most interesting thing to me was how uncannily similar he looked and acted like Tom Betka. Weird. It's really cool meeting people and hearing their stories. Actually, it's sweet.

And then there was Newark. Having arrived considerably late and waiting for our gate-checked baggage, we almost missed our flight to Glasgow. However, thanks to a fast-driving cart guy armed with a radio, he stopped the plane from closing the gate. Much to our chagrin, we got on the plane and then proceeded to wait for almost an hour to take off. At least the cabin is only about half-full, and the flight attendants are really nice. Dinner was chicken or beef; I had lasagna (sorry, bad Airplane! joke). I had chicken, it was good, and now I'm going to make a feeble attempt to sleep.

7-11-2006: Mavis in the Minster?
It's about 11:45 P.M. in the U.K., which means that the kitties likely have been visited by the Angela and given food. If we're all wondering about them this much already, I can't imagine how we'll be in Köln.

Yesterday was ROUGH, no questions asked. Between a long, mostly sleepless flight, waiting a while to get on another cigar plane to Manchester, and directed off the train while on the way to York, we've had just about everything go not as planned in some way. Jordan has not been thrilled by that.

Regardless, the city is sweet. We are staying at the Saxon House, a B&B owned by a very kind fellow named Ian. After dropping off our bags, Jordan took us on a brief city tour. We walked past the Ouse River and a bunch of really noisy geese, a mott-and-bailey structure called Clifford's Tower, the two important churches (more about those later), and an old Roman wall next to a cobblestone road. Dinner was at a pub called the Crossed Keys, a parallel tavern operation to the Charles XIII, which is where Jordan enjoyed steak pies. I enjoy them, too. Drown them with gravy, serve with chips, and something to drink and your stomach is FULL. Oh yes, and this was the fateful night that I first REALLY tasted beer. Twice. Dad had some kind of lager and Jordan was drinking an ale. I'd probably prefer ale to lager if I could stand the bitter part. Anyway, after that happened, nothing else did because we all passed out for the night by 8.

After a good sleep and a tasty breakfast, we first stopped by the "uni," as the students are wont to call it. We even saw Costcutter, but no tasty pies in stock. They did have pork pie! Back in town, the King's Manor was more interesting. Apparently it was once part of an abbey but following the rise of the Church of England, good ol' King Henry VIII knocked down the abbey and a good part of St. Mary's Church. Then he took the abbott's house for his own. Hence, the name. I almost cried when Jordan told us this story. How could someone demolish a house of worship, a sacred place?!

On a happier note, our time at St. Michael-le-Belfrey's was awesome. We met Rev. Roger Simpson, Jordan's vicar! We also ment some newer uni students who were serving tea and light snacks after the vicar bidded us to join them. It made us a bit late for lunch at the Mason's Arms, but it was time well-spent. We met a student from England (a chemistry major) with a very friendly personality, but unfortunately we didn't get his name. And lunch. Lunch! The Mason's Arms is the place to go. Bacon sandwich (English bacon, which is different!) plus chips with gravy. Mmmm.

And then there's Yorkminster. Words fail me, but my initial reaction was "Where's the Chapel Choir and Dr. Richmond?! I want to sing here!" I had to settle for exploring, but that was suitable. The inside is awe-inspiring and the Choral Evensong was grand! After a day like this, I can't imagine what lies in other cathedrals like the Kölnerdom. In the meantime, the clock displays 0:27, so it's time to sleeeep.

Thanks, God. What a blessing. And I don't deserve it.