One Final Farewell to Europe

I’m sitting at (my new) home in Buenos Aires, but I don’t think it’s time to talk about Argentina yet.  That’s because I still have one last entry about Ireland to write.  I think that I’ve put it off this long, I returned from Ireland two weeks ago, because I don’t really have a lot to write about with respect to my final two days in Dublin.  But, of course, why should that stop me?

I got up on my last morning in London and headed back to Victoria Station, where I’m pretty sure I ended up at some point on every one of my days in London on this trip.  This time around, the purpose of the visit was to catch a train to Gatwick Airport.  The trip took about thirty minutes and cost about twenty pounds.  That seemed kind of expensive to me until I saw a sign at a shop around the corner from my hotel that advertised direct cab rides to Gatwick for fifty-eight pounds.  After that, twenty pounds seemed like a bargain.

Once again, I flew Ryanair.  Once again, I kept all of the bad reviews in mind but didn’t have a single problem and enjoyed the cheap flight.  My favorite moment was when we were waiting at the gate and people were lining up to get on the plane, since the seats are first come, first served.  The line was so long that it was keeping some of the passengers from getting into the gate area.  One of the Ryanair employees asked everybody in line to sit down since seats in the gate area were one of the few things for which Ryanair didn’t charge extra.  I laughed, but I didn’t get out of line.

I got back to Dublin and retraced my steps from about ten days prior in order to get to my hotel, which was a block down the street from the hotel I had stayed in upon my arrival to Dublin on my first visit.  This time, I finally crapped out.  I had liked all of my hotels on this stay, but this one didn’t do it for me.  The water pressure in the shower sucked (which is the exact opposite of what it’s supposed to do).  It was on the fifth floor without an elevator.  There was no wifi.  It was too hot.  Oh well, it was only a couple of days.

 Now, the reason I don’t have a lot to say about Dublin this time around is that I had figured out what I liked on my first trip to Dublin.  I ended up going back to the same bars and restaurants that I liked the most on my first trip.  One new place that I went to was The Brazen Head because I had read that it was officially Ireland’s oldest pub, opened since 1198.  It was a pretty cool place but looked like pretty much any other pub on the inside and, like everything else in Dublin, was mighty expensive.

Other than that, there’s not much to write about on these final two days in Dublin.  My last meal in Dublin was at a place called Flannigan’s (if I remember correctly) on O’Connell Street.  For the first time in Ireland, I finally got a beef & Guinness pie.  It was the best thing I had eaten on the entire trip.  The sauce was thick and beefy and it came with mashed potatoes and pureed vegetables.  I shouldn’t dwell, but if I hadn’t known that I was coming to Argentina for some fine, fine beef, I’d have promised myself to eat nothing but beef & Guinness pie for the rest of my life.

 That’s pretty much all I want to write about.  The trip home was pretty uneventful, which is always what I am looking for on an overseas trip.  No delays, no cancellations, no excitement whatsoever.  I got back to the States and I was only nine days away from Argentina (where I am at the moment).  For the next several entries – Buenos Aires.

Old English Friends

Returning from Bath, we got off the bus in London at Victoria Station at around 6:15 pm.  This was convenient because I was supposed to meet up with my English Friend at a bar in the station at 7:00 pm.  If you don’t recall my English Friend and want background information, go back and look at the entries between Mexico and Panama.  Otherwise, feel free to carry on.

At around seven, I headed upstairs to Witherspoon’s (I think that’s what it was called) and she was already sitting there with a drink.  That’s why she’s my friend.  We had a couple of drinks there, where the only excitement came right before we left when my English Friend couldn’t differentiate the men’s room from the women’s room.  I would have thought that the trough within might give it away but I don’t think she figured it out until she started getting incredulous looks from guys standing at the door.  Then they started looking at me and shrugging, but I had no real explanation, so I just shrugged back.

After Witherspoon’s, we hopped on the Underground and headed out to Soho.  (I think it was Soho.  My friend told me it was Soho.  What do I know?)  We stopped by a bar that was mostly empty and had another drink.  Then we were getting hungry, so we went to that most English of restaurants, TGIFridays.  Okay, so it wasn’t the greatest of cultural experiences, but it was close.  If I remember correctly, we made it a truly continental experience by drinking Budweiser.  Don’t say anything; it was the biggest beer they had.

After dinner, we headed back to Victoria Station so my friend could catch a train home.  It seemed odd for me to see her stop drinking while still conscious but I guess not everybody can be on vacation all of the time.

The next day, I finally broke down and took a ride on the London Eye.  The London Eye is a large observation wheel across the Thames from Big Ben and Parliament that provides great views of the city.  It’s one of the most popular tourist attractions in London but I had avoided it on all of my other trips to London.  I enjoyed the big wheel in Singapore, though, so I thought I’d give it a try.  From the time I bought the ticket, it took about an hour to get through the line and embark.

The entire trip on the London Eye took about thirty minutes.  To be honest, the views were disappointing.  Because of the turns of the Thames and the height of the skyscrapers, much of the city remained hidden from view.  It was crowded and people were elbowing each other to get photos.  It was a beautiful day, though, and I’m at least glad that next time I go to London, I won’t have to have an internal debate as to whether to visit the London Eye.  I’ve already done it.

That evening, I met with another old friend.  This was a woman that I had met in Buenos Aires.  The last time I saw her was in November 2009 in the rain at Kentucky Pizza in the Palermo neighborhood and we said that we’d get together for a drink.  Eighteen months and 7,000 miles later, we finally got together for that drink.  I’ve been known to go to great lengths to meet somebody for a beer, but this was a little extreme even for me.  I had grilled camembert cheese with tomato chutney and German beer.  Once again, it wasn’t the ideal English experience but it at least it was in an English pub and not in a TGIFridays.

 After dinner, I walked back the four or five blocks to my hotel.  Nobody believes me when I say that Sheldon is an English name, but on my way back to Paddington, I happened along Sheldon Square.  I didn’t see it the last time that I was in London, so I’m going to assume that it was named in my honor since my last visit.  Thank you, London!!!

That was pretty much it for me and London on this trip.  My main reasons for the re-visit were to see some friends and visit Stonehenge.  Since I did both, I guess it was a successful trip.  In the morning, I was heading back to Dublin, which I’ll talk about in the next entry.

London to Stonehenge to Bath to London

It was time to take off from Liverpool and head to London.  I knew the way to the Liverpool Coach Station from the hotel because I had walked there a few days before.  In the morning, when I left, for some reason I wasn’t counting on the rain.  Also, I wasn’t counting on taking a wrong turn.  What should have been a fifteen-minute walk to the station turned out to be a thirty-five minute trek in the rain.  I still got there in plenty of time, though, and grabbed some breakfast before hopping on the bus.

The busses in Great Britain (I used National Express again) aren’t as comfortable as they are in Mexico, but they’re close.  They definitely top Greyhound in the U.S.  Anyway, the trip took about four-and-a-half hours, with a short stop in Milton Keynes, and dropped us off at the Victoria Coach Station.  From there, it was a short walk to the Victoria Station and then an eight-stop Underground ride to Paddington Station, close to where my hotel was located.

The weather was kind of crappy in London and I had a big day planned the next day so I didn’t do a whole lot that first evening.  I walked from Paddington down to Oxford Street and then over to Wigmore Court Hotel, where my travel adventures started way back in September 2009.  I grabbed some dinner and a drink or two and headed back for the night.

The next day was the third of the three things that I looked most forward to seeing on this trip – Stonehenge.  I was picked up at my hotel at 7:15 am and taken to Victoria Coach Station in order to catch a bus out to the ruins.  It took about ninety minutes and we arrived shortly before 11:00 am.  Entering the site, the first thing that I noticed is that the ruins are a little underwhelming.  It was a similar feeling that I had when I arrived at the pyramids.  I was just looking at a bunch of stones that always looked much bigger on television than they did in person.  The entrance fee included an audio guide that talks about the history of the site, but most of the history lesson involved the fact that nobody really knows all that much about the site.  It wasn’t built by the Druids.  They know that.  They don’t know a hell of a lot more.  My guess – aliens.

 The area surrounding Stonehenge, on the other hand, was truly beautiful.  Lots of green and hills and sheep.  It looked like a place that would make a marvelous park if it weren’t for that annoying collection of rocks in the middle of it.  It was easy to see why the area could inspire so many writers and poets.  I could have stayed there on one of the benches and hung out for a while (the weather was improving although it was a little cool), but it was time to go to Bath.

We got on the bus after about 45 minutes at Stonehenge and went to Bath.  Bath is famous for its architecture and the beauty of the surrounding area and, of course, the famous Roman baths that are located therein.  When we first arrived, I was hungry, so I skipped past the Roman baths at first and headed to a pub for some lunch.  I had cottage pie, which was great but was served with french fries on the side.  Since cottage pie is mostly mashed potatoes, it seemed like an odd combination, but I went with it.  The beer was good.

After walking around town for a little bit, I finally made my way over to the Roman baths.  I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it was pretty interesting.  I went from room-to-room looking at the remnants of the Roman architecture that remained.  I saw the various baths and learned about how the Romans started out in the hot baths and worked their way into baths of decreasing warmth until they finished in a cold bath.  I suppose it was worth the price of admission but Roman history is only of passing interest to me.

Afterwards, we got back on the bus to head back to London on a trip that ended up taking nearly four hours because of an accident on the M4 and bad traffic, generally.  Once back, it was time to meet up with my English Friend from my Central America trip.  I’ll get to that next time.

Liverpool's Cathedrals and Bars

When I originally scheduled my trip, I knew I was going to both London and Liverpool.  Also, I knew that Manchester United and Barcelona were playing in the finals of the UEFA Champions League while I was in England.  Also, I knew that Manchester United fans are asses.  (No offense to my Manchester United fans.  I’m talking about all of them but [fill in your name here].)  For these reasons, I decided to be in Liverpool for the final.  Liverpool fans are losers too (except you if you’re a Liverpool fan) but at least they hate Manyoo and would be rooting for Barcelona in the finals.

Anyway, all of that is to say that I was in Liverpool for the UEFA Champions League final.  I was rooting for Barcelona so I had lots of friends in Liverpool.  I went to a nearby bar to watch the first half but it was crowded and full of the scary, rowdy, young, barfing Liverpool fans that got England football clubs banned from European competition for five years once upon a time.  For the second half, I moved back to my hotel and watched in the hotel bar.  It also was full of drunken people rooting against Manchester United but there was a little less rowdiness and a little less barfing.  Barcelona won the match 3-1 so a good time was had by all.  All, that is, except the Manchester United fans, but that was okay because they’d never show their faces in Liverpool anyway.

It was still raining on the morning of the next day.  I woke up a little late and after breakfast, I went back to Albert Dock to do some souvenir shopping.  I found a couple half-liters of Guinness on the way back to my hotel and then it was time to meet a friend of another friend of mine.  They had worked together in Uganda and though she wasn’t a native of Liverpool, she knew her way around.

I met up with my new friend and we walked around town for a little bit.  I was told that she was quite a drinker but she had other things to do in the evening so she couldn’t drink but so much on this day.  We started off by heading to a couple of cathedrals.  I don’t remember their names, but there was a protestant cathedral designed by a Catholic and a Catholic cathedral designed by a protestant.  The Anglican cathedral apparently is the second largest Anglican cathedral in the world behind an Anglican cathedral in New York.  The Catholic cathedral is very unique looking from the outside.  It sort of looks like a teepee, round and with a smaller diameter in the middle.  Both were impressive, if you like the cathedral-thing, and both are on the same street.  I had heard that it was the only street in the world with two cathedrals, but I have no independent knowledge regarding that piece of trivia.

We also went to a few pubs.  Beer is good.  One of the pubs has a bathroom that is listed on England’s version of the National Registry.  (I don’t recall its proper name.)  The bar isn’t listed, but the men’s room is.  I urinated in it anyway.  My new friend was really cool and it was nice to have somebody who could teach me more about Liverpool and England, generally.  (I don't have many pictures from this particular day so I've included a photo of the Liverpool Coach Station.  Your welcome.)

After we split up, I got some fish and chips, but not just ordinary fish and chips.  These came covered in brown gravy and were freakin’ awesome.  But, of course, I was drunk, so that can’t be discounted when assigning value to my opinion.  Afterwards, I took a nap (passed out) for about four hours.  The rest of the night was quiet as I had to leave early the next morning to catch a bus to London.  That’ll be in the next entry.

Magical Mystery Tour!!!

When I headed out for Great Britain, there were three things to which I was most looking forward.  (I may have mentioned this before.)  The first was Blarney Castle.  The second was doing a Beatles tour in Liverpool.  I’ll get to the third in a later entry.

As you can probably imagine, there are lots of Beatles tours in Liverpool.  There were some that lasted all day and cost over $150.  While those include a lot of interesting things, I didn’t want to spend that much money and I found one that cost about 80% less, took two hours, and covered pretty much everything that I needed to see.  (I still had another full day in Liverpool in case I wanted to go out and see more.)  The trip I decided on was the Magical Mystery Tour, which is a bus tour to various Beatle-related spots throughout Liverpool, with stops at a handful of them.  It starts at the Albert Dock, so I went there to catch the bus.

Our guide was funny and very knowledgeable.  He was in some Beatles-related movie and knew Paul McCartney.  At least, I reckon he knows Paul McCartney.  He showed all of us a photo on his iPhone with him and Paul.  So, he had that going for him.

We went by a lot of cool places – at least cool as far as I was concerned.  We went by the birth homes of Ringo Starr and George Harrison.  We also went by one of the homes in which Paul McCartney lived and in which he and John Lennon wrote over 100 songs.  Another house we went to was the one in which John Lennon lived with his Aunt Mimi.  We went to Penny Lane but there were no pretty nurses selling puppies from a tray on the roundabout.  Very strange.  And we went to the red gates of Strawberry Fields.  At the end of the tour, we went to the Cavern Club.  I went in and wound my way down the stone steps to the bar/stage below.  It was extremely crowded, even at 5:00 pm, and smelled of stale beer.  I used the facilities but left before I got a drink.  I went back to my hotel, which was located just around the corner.

Now, I’d like to say a word or two about my hotel.  I stayed at a new Day’s Inn in Liverpool City Centre.  It has been open for less than three months.  I’m not sure what it was before it was a Day’s Inn but I’m pretty sure it was not a hotel.  My room number was M6.  To get to room M6 (on the mezzanine level), I had to go up three flights of stairs to the second floor (yeah, try explaining that) and then walk along the second floor corridor to another set of stairs and then go down two flights of stairs to rooms M6-M10.  There was a lift option to get up to the second floor but none to get back down to the mezzanine level, at least the part of the mezzanine level on which my room was located.  Inside my room was one of the best hotel televisions I’ve ever seen.  Unfortunately, there was no remote control to go with it.  I called to ask if I could get a remote for the television, but all they told me was that the last guest must have accidentally taken it.  I couldn’t care less what happened to it.  I ain’t a cop.  I just wanted a remote control.  Nope.  Okay.

Later that evening was the UEFA Champions League match between Manchester United and Barcelona.  I’ll go on from there in the next post.

Pilgrimage to Liverpool

We landed at John Lennon International Airport and I wasn’t sure if we’d have to deal with immigration and/or customs.  We were going from one EU country to another but some countries are pickier about such things than others.  Anyway, we didn’t have to worry with any of that.

I knew that National Express ran a bus to the Liverpool Coach Center and that taking it would be cheaper than a cab, so that was my plan.  As I walked around the airport, though, I was having all kinds of difficulty finding where to catch the bus.  There were other buses heading to the Liverpool City Centre but I had no idea where those were going to drop me off.  I saw the cab fares posted on the wall and they weren’t outrageously expensive so I decided to break a cardinal rule of mine and for only the second time ever in Europe, I used a cab.  I’ll get over it.

I got to my hotel and it was already starting to get dark.  And crappy.  The weather was pretty damn crappy.  I walked around the city center for a little while and then went to get something to eat.  In order to get something different, I went to a 1950s US diner.  The food was meh.  What I found interesting was that there were tons of American flags in the restaurant and they all had fifty stars, even though we didn’t have fifty states until midway through 1959.  So, I guess it was a late-1959 diner.  And there were only three songs that were playing over and over again and one of them came out in 1960.  If I was going to open a 1950s US diner, I’d pay attention to these little details.  But, then, I probably wouldn’t open it in Liverpool, so there you go.

I went out and got a drink before heading back to my hotel.  There are tons of bars in the Liverpool City Centre.  Even in my first hours in Liverpool, I was able to take notice of what would become my most lasting memory of Liverpool.  That is, of course, the rowdy, drunken, scary people all over the place.  There were people pissing on the sides of buildings and throwing up on the streets and yelling and random people on the sidewalks.  I’m not saying that I’ve never done any of these things but it was the first time I’ve ever been in a city where the behavior has been so prevalent. 

No biggie.  I’m used to drunken people.  Often, I’m drunken people.  I’ll move on.  In the morning, I went to breakfast at the hotel and it was bad but filling.  The sausages were pretty good.  And I figured that since I was in England, I should have baked beans for breakfast.  Oh, the English . . .

After breakfast, I headed out to the Albert Dock.  The Tate Museum is in that area but I wasn’t really in an art museum mood.  Instead, I went to the museum in which I was really interested – the Beatle Story.  Needless to say, though I’ll say it anyway, it’s a Beatle museum.  It had some really cool exhibits, mostly from the early days, like instruments from the Quarrymen days and relics from the Casbah and Cavern clubs.  There were also brief exhibits for each of the Fab Four during their post-Beatle years.  My favorite exhibit from that section was a glassed-off room that had John Lennon’s white piano, a guitar and a pair of Lennon’s glasses.

The Beatle museum, however, was just a lead up for one of the things on this trip to which I was most looking forward – the Magical Mystery Tour.  Yes, I’m a Beatle freak and this trip to Liverpool was a pilgrimage of sorts.  I’ll move on to that in the next entry.