Lake Buttermere in the Lake District

Thursday night Stef, Belen, Rose and I headed to the Lake District with a detour in Hebden Bridge, a little village in the middle of Yorkshire where artists are a plenty and where Rose's mom, an artist herself, lives. We stayed the night there and woke up from the chickens' morning call to see ponies and rain out the back window. We left Rose to enjoy family and friends for the weekend, with a promise of a ride for her on Sunday and an offer by her to house us should the weather be too much to bear.



Because it was raining hard, the only thing to do was check out the towns; Windermere and Ambleside. We ate at Lucy's restaurant in Ambleside (on two different occasions) which serves really great home cooked meals and brilliant oh so rich desserts, see photo of Belen below.



We continued North past Keswick, pronounced Kisik (we were corrected numerous times) to Lake Buttermere. There are actually two lakes in Buttermere with two pubs, a B&B and a fantastic campsite, Syke farm, between the lakes, with mountains surrounding the region from all sides.



We pitched our tent and walked to the lake passing the local farm life, sheep and beautiful cows, along the way. We then had dinner, roasted marshmallows, put them in oreos for faux smores, drank pints by the fireside and met other campers who were all very friendly. FYI Northerners are FRIENDLY (but sometimes I had trouble understanding them)!




It rained through the night, but Saturday started off clear so we decided on a mega hike, with a map given to us by our friendly tent neighbours. Four hours later we were at the top of Red Pike. It was one of those hikes when you thought you made it to the top only to see another peak or hill in front of you. Once on top Stef wanted to carry on to the next peak. It was three in the afternoon. I was nervous for Stef to go on her own, but I knew she'd see people on the way and she had the map and Belen's mobile so we decided to seperate.



As B and I attempted to go down Red Pike, all we saw was red skate, loose rocks and not a proper path at all. 'Surely this can't be right', Belen kept repeating, but I remember our neighbours warning us about this. The great height and steepness got to Belen and she froze up, there were a lot of tears and frightfulness. We walked around to different areas, but I assured her the red rock way was the only way down, an older man and his wife confirmed it as they passed. The man offered to assist Belen and the promise of a strong arm helped us on our way. After twenty minutes the couple took off practically leaping and flying down the hill and left us to struggle on for two more hours down the rocks. We saw a rainbow on the way down which made the pain in our legs lesson a bit.

Stef joined us only one hour after we arrived, having met up with some backpackers who trekked with her most of the way. She had an easier time of it actually. Needless to say we slept well that night and woke up a bit achy in the morning. I was amazed when one of our fellow campers told us she hiked four peaks past our three, having a 10 hour day, hiking for charity.

Sunday the weather cleared just in time for us to pack up. We then made our way to Beatrix Potter's cute little house (see pic below) with a nice drive through Longsdale and along a few other lake before heading home. After visiting Wales and Cornwall, I think my favourite is the Lake district. I will be back!

Go Badgers!

I decided to join my work's softball team, being American and all. At the first game I had to have a little conversation with myself out in the field because I was getting so heated up due to 'made up' rules by the Brits and because I am so competitive (cursing and swearing like my father when we dropped balls). We haven't won many games due to the fact that we are the newest team in the league and most of our players have never played before. After that first game, I now thoroughly enjoy it, it's great to be out in Hyde park and joke around with colleagues. And don't we look so professional in our Badger T shirts?

Click on this link and you shall see my colleagues take on our sporty sport game (she's from New Zealand).

*%$"£:)+*

Monday
I’ve been in a funny mood as of late.

It used to be sunny, well a week ago now, and I was happy and feeling life was new and fresh and there was opportunity.

Now it’s overcast, gray and raining and I am not a happy bunny at work.
I found out I am the lowest paid PA in my organisation (and I am pretty willing to take on any work that comes my way). Knowing this fact doesn’t help the mundane-ness routine of my day, nor my morale or confidence.

I lie awake at night dreaming of another life I could have or doing the shoulda coulda woulda ranting that I do so well. I replay my decisions about grad school, about not interning more, of not staying at my last job etc.

I guess I just miss home.
I had this sudden loneliness feeling a day or two ago where I felt so far away from everything. And I felt that some great hand had thrown out three beads, beads representing my little family, onto this vast earth and separated my mother and father from me, so far far away.
We live our choices, I say to myself.
I chose this.

Friday

I am feeling better although I see a quiet weekend ahead because of my diminishing bank account and because my mates are all busy. I just bought a ticket to Croatia (hence the loss of funds) for some fun in the sun so that has cheered me up. I also spoke to friends and my aunt back in America and I realised I just needed to reconnect. I have free calls to the states so I can and will spend hours catching up while my friend’s back home go about their business with their mobiles attached to their ear telling people, ‘I’ve got London on the phone’!

Each day is new.

PS A note on arts and flicks:
The movie Gommora was not that great, what was all the fuss about? But I saw one called Junebug, a bit slow, but I recommend it.
I also recommend the Almeida theatre in Angel, London. I just went to see a play, 'When the rain stops falling', and it was brilliant.

Almeida Theatre

What a difference the sun makes!!!

The weather here has been GOOOOD.

Park picnics at lunch, dresses to work, drinks long into the night OUTSIDE.

Loving London when the weather's right. It's clear, fresh and almost looks clean and I love seeing everyone happy, out and about!

Cycle cycle and other randomness

Yesterday I needed to drown my sorrows (work troubles) with a little retail therapy on Oxford street. While there I heard honks and cheers, bells and music. Cyclists were making their way down the street, blocking traffic and I realised it was Critical Mass.

Critical Mass is a bicycling event typically held on the last Friday of every month in over 300 cities around the world. It was a Monday, but nevertheless they rode their bikes to protest against cars and biker vulnerability. London is known for biker deaths on it's street, they don't really have bike lanes as we do in San Fran. Around the city phantom white bikes are left where there have been biker deaths.

It was ironic because I'd just read a piece in Management Today (I know I am not a manager, but it's a good magazine) with a mention about Paris being a bike friendly city, take a look:

The MT Diary

A weekend in Paris, like nostalgia, is not what it used to be. But is it worse than a weekend in London, with every other street dug up and gloomy bankers at the bar crying into their champagne about the 50% tax rate? Oh yes. Let me count the ways.

First, there's the price. One of the few profitable business lines left for the banks is foreign exchange, so even though our plucky pound has picked up a little, you're lucky to get more than EUR1.05 a throw, which makes eating out in Paris a costly hobby. And the food is now, as a rule, a cut below London's. The breadth and variety of food here has generally passed Parisians by, and they've never been able to cook a vegetable anyway. The only green veg they live on are laurels.
The range of wine, too, is not a patch on what you find here. They haven't noticed Australian, South African or American wine, let alone New Zealand's, whose sauvignon blancs regularly knock their Loire equivalents into a cocked beret in international competition. And let's not forget the legendary charm of the French waiter.

Between meals, there's no contest. Music in London is streets ahead, and theatre too. Hard to tell when it comes to art, as you have to queue for ages to get into a gallery. The Musee d'Orsay and the Pompidou will have to await another trip, when swine flu has kept 80% of tourists at home. Football? Do me a favour. The cup final, on the weekend we were there, was between Rennes and Guingamp (no, I've no idea, either).

But there is one trump card - the Velib. In a tasteful livery of postmodern grey, rental bikes are on every corner, accessed through a system that seems near foolproof. It's cheap, at just EUR1 an hour, and the bikes themselves are better than functional. After dinner, a 15-minute ride, past lines of empty taxis, is juste le billet, and can even help to digest the stodgy food. It's shameful that our two great London mayors have spent the past six years fiddling about with bendy buses and traffic lights, rather than on something that really reduces congestion and emissions.

Mayor Bloomberg offers no rental bikes in New York. It's a brave person who ventures onto two wheels in Manhattan, where the potholes can engulf a yellow cab, but the business mood today seems better than in London, especially with the dreaded banking stress tests now done. Some think we are approaching the foothills of the sunlit uplands, where milk, honey and in-the-money options flow.

That's not my view, I have to say. I am suspicious of false dawns in which dead cats peak too soon. But then I am a congenital pessimist, which I suppose is why I wasted my prime on audit and regulation. Those essentially unconstructive occupations appeal to my Cassandrian tendencies. A more rational case is that the impact of unemployment on confidence and consumer spending has barely been felt so far, so a second downward leg to the market is quite possible. We'll see, but I have to admit that a good amount of smart money is now betting the other way.

See the full article at:

Management Today

My point, you ask? Besides drawing your attention to Howard Davies and his witty take on the world and its financial troubles, we need more bikes out there, especially now! Look at the car industry and the effect on economic insecurity has on it. If GM can fail, as it did this week, we need to change the system and more importantly we also need to change our future urban planning processes and our thoughts on four wheels.

Isle of Wight

It was a bit tricky getting six people to agree on a place for a bank holiday weekend away; the seaside, a farm house in the middle of nowhere, a city break somewhere far?
We decided on the Isle of Wight, a place none of us had been, close enough to home but somewhat of an adventure. We stayed on the north side of the Isle, it was quiet, though all agreed the west/south sides is more favorable. The island is small (30 minutes here to there) and so it didn't really matter where you are if you have a car because it is easy to get around. We stayed at Regatta Cottage:
Regatta Cottage
perfect for six and with an ever important BBQ.
We couldn't ask for better weather, it was so bright and sunny Saturday and Sunday. In classic British form it rained the bank holiday, Monday, but quickly dissipated to warm overcastness. Saturday day we spent traveling on the ferry, exploring the village of Cowes, and drinking mojitos waiting for the coals to burn in our BBQ.

Sunday we woke late, had a huge breakfast out in the sunshine, went to 'the Needles' famous for its jetting rocks and coloured sand. We took a chair lift down (see photo) to the beach where a boat awaited us. It was nice being out with the boats, the water off the coast of England continues to surprise me, blue as blue can be. We drove south to look for drift wood on the beach. I was feeling a bit sick so hung back on a cliff while the others walked on the beach and found 'dinosaur' prints.

Monday we got up early and went to find a Lavender farm. There wasn't much Lavender, but the countryside was beautiful. We then went to a local winery. I had low expectations about the quality of the wine and they proved right, it was a beautiful area all the same. We ended up at a Spanish restaurant which was an interesting experience as our waitress was a newbie and trying to tell us about the dishes. What was funny was the fact that of our party three were from Spain and the other two, myself and Roger, the husband of one of our Spanish friends knew what we were ordering. The waitress didn't really get it and kept saying, 'yes it's spanish'. I found myself enjoying our diversity; Roger was from Australia, Dav another friend from England but truly Punjabi, and myself from America and the three Spanish woman, all from such different parts of the country, had such different personalities and experiences, but all so fun! After lunch we walked on the beach, had an ice cream and then made our way back from the ferry (we made it by five minutes).

Roger dropped us off in a chaotic crowded London which was a mighty contrast from the quietness of the Isle of Wight.

The next British adventure, camping with the girls up in the lake district!

Culture: Elegy and other bits

I had a sheepish night a week ago with a friend or two at home. Not expecting much from a movie I knew nothing about that I received from Lovefilm (the London equivilant to Netflix) I was blown away by Elegy. With Ben Kingley (always solid) and Penelope Cruz (who constantly suprises me) this movie is a love/life story. It left me thinking for days, the issues between a man and a woman and a friend and a friend. It was a quite explanation of life...but as a prefice, it's not for the prudish as there's some nakedness (I think by now Penelope should have some sort of nudity clause, right).

My thoughts of the movie were lost when I picked up the book The Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafron. Based in Barcelona it follows a young boy living his life surrounded by books who reads one that changes his life and sends him on a quest for the author. The mysteries uncovered are better and better with each turn of the page and it's four hundred pages breezed by. Buy it! Buy it now!

Miceala and Chris' wedding photos!

Miceala's photographer, Jennifer Longaway was wonderful! Not only was she really friendly, but her pictures are fab.
The above photo is us and the bride, well our feet anyway. I am third from the right with the obscenely high heel.

She also did her engagement photos, take a peak of their engagement photos on her blog at
Longawaypix


You can book through her site at: http://longawaypix.com/

Wales

My friend was generous enough to lend me her ride for a weekend trip to Wales. The weather was meant to be nice and once I picked up the car, I was very excited to hit the road. Getting out of London was a mission as roundabouts aren't my forte, but after a quick three hours, we entered Breacon National Park. The villages were quaint, the rolling hills a plenty and the sheep overwhelmingly outnumbered the people. It was amazing to go down a country road, on either side a view wide and green as the next, with not one car passing you for miles. We set up camp in a beautiful organic campsite (see link above) next to a river with chickens roaming free. We made a fire (our first) and cooked dinner with a bit of difficulty (our veggie sausages fell into the fire).
The next morning we woke up and explored the park, hiking up to its many waterfalls and devouring its lovely cakes at the local pub.
The following day was a bit gray so we packed up to take the long way home, through Cardiff where I thought; oh poor people of Cardiff, your weather is rubbish! With a luxury of a car I sneakily came upon an ikea and so spent the last of the three day weekend running crazily around it.

I would definitely recommend Wales.

Bu 'n fawr! (It was great, in Welsh)

Things I don't like: Charity Theft

On Saturday morning I did my run to the few charity shops around my neighborhood. With my small budget, charity shops are the way to go in finding something different to wear (I desperately need new clothes) and something cheap. While in my favourite shop, I was appalled to see a middle aged man in a suite stuff items in his bag.

I am not adverse to stealing a few bits here and there from corporations. I wouldn't do it myself, but if you're a little old lady surviving on a pension Tescos or Safeway isn't going to miss those batteries in your pocket. But this was a CHARITY SHOP with few clothes and barely surviving and this guy was in a suite and picking out not just one or two items, but six or seven. How greedy!

I didn't say anything to the shopkeeper who was helping other customers at the front of the store. I felt bad for not even trying to give the shopkeeper the 'eyes' or telling him after the thief left the small shop. I didn't want to be a snitch, but I was then riddled with guilt for the rest of the weekend for not saying anything and vowed that if I saw the guy on the street I would go up to him and call him a thief to his face. Needless to say I didn't buy anything on Sunday because I felt a bit disheartened by him and with myself!

Street discoveries

One finds various things living in a busy city. Although my mother tells me to hold my head high, in London I am constantly looking down for lost treasures. Last night on the way to the shop to get a bit of milk I found a packet of cigarettes. Normally I would leave random cigarette boxes, but this one looked unopen and it was, still neatly wrapped in plastic. With the price of cigarettes very high, I pocketed it to give to my co-worker. This morning on the way to work I found a lighter. I thought to myself, is someone trying to tell me something? Am I supposed to be smoking? as I dropped it in my bag. No, I thought I think it just speaks to the amount of people who still smoke here in London!

I get so happy when I discover something, it makes my day, even if it is quite insignificant. A few months ago both my friend and I jumped on a twenty note outside a tube station and went off to spend it in the pub. And on New Year's day I considered myself a wealthy woman when I found five quid on the ground. So many people drop money out of their pockets. I am sure you all have stories of what you've found or lost? Please let me know them.....