Goat Noodles

My first thought this morning was "Goat noodles." ...tired, jet-lag brain is fun.

So I'm home.  And I'm awake.  At an ungodly hour, even for me.  AND IT IS DAYLIGHT, what the hell?  Since WHEN do we get sunrise at 4:30 in the morning?

Flight home was, errr, fun.  So, I didn't leave Jamie's house until 10PM the night I left, which got me into London at 1:30AM (in no way anyone's fault but mine, I genuinely didn't want to leave) ...transit and shuttles to my hotel near the airport were no longer running, so I had to catch a taxi, which then took me to the wrong Travellodge - yaaaaay.  The reception desk wanted me to call another cab and switch hotels, but I was having none of it.  I was like "LOOK, it's 1:30AM.  I have to be up again in 4 hours to catch a flight.  Can I please just stay here?"  ...so I did, though the bed was comfortable, which is really the only thing I cared about (yay, not a floor!) there was no fridge for the cheese I brought, so I shoved that hanging out the window, and really, I wasn't there long enough to judge.  But the windows didn't open all the way, and the AC didn't work...and it was HOT.  But tired is tired - I can sleep through almost anything.

I got up at 5AM, was at the airport by 6AM to catch a flight at 7:45...only to find out that "Oh hey, my flight is delayed by two hours." - so I did what every person does in an international airport when their flight is delayed.  I went window shopping.  Bought a Terry Pratchett book and a hoodie (or a jumper, if you must) ...and I both started and finished the book during the flight.  Yeah.  I know, I'm just that good.  The hoodie is FANTASTIC - they've got this company called SuperDry.  Basically, I feel like I'm wearing a hug.

Anyway, I caught breakfast and passed out on the floor of the airport for an hour (most of yesterday involves the words "I felt like death") ...they boarded us at 10AM, aaaaand then we sat on the tarmac for another hour and a half while our plane decided to be mechanical, and engineers were working on it.   So my 7:45 start time became my 11:30 start time, and I learned a particularly sneaky airplane caveat that they throw in fine print when you purchase a ticket.

Did you know, Non-stop and Direct Flight mean two different things?  Non-Stop has no layovers, Direct Flight is allowed to stop bloody well wherever it feels like, so long as the Vancouver people don't get off the plane.  We landed in Edmonton and a bunch of people got off, but it meant that we sat there for about an hour before taking off into the air again.  I got to YVR five hours later than intended, and then I got to make the two hour trek via transit home.  I cheated at the end at took a taxi from Braid Station - I was delirious from exhaustion, and I was so done.  Plus, my stupid TEN DOLLAR transit ticket from the airport expired on me before I got home, and I will be damned if I was going to purchase another $2.50 one for a 10 minute bus ride.

 This is a bird we saw.  The three of us named him Sam.

Overall, the trip was fantastic.  There were a few places I never ended up seeing that I had planned to, but it's okay.  The only thing I regret is not spending more time in Brittany and Normandy along the French coast - it's stunning up there.  I never made it to Brest, which was supposed to be the super cool out-of-the-way place that I was going to go to, but I lost a few days during my trip - got stuck in Clermont an extra night, decided to spend an extra day with Jamie (should have spent more, really) ...etc.

Oh!  Oxford never happened.  We were being lazy bums, and I wanted to make pancakes for his family (which I have practically been adopted into)  Everyone in his family, with the exception of his dad - who I can't see saying sentimental things anyhow - didn't want me to leave.  His mom, on several occasions wanted me to stay, and told me if I perchance missed my flight, I could stay here as long as I want.  And I apparently make better pancakes than her (her name is Ana) and Jamie's brother Bertie (who apparently doesn't eat anyone else's food but Ana's) wanted me to stay so I could continue to make awesome pancakes.  It was really hard to leave - I was really touched by how much everyone liked my company.

Well, it was hard to leave England, period.  France was fantastic, it really was - and it was horribly hard to sail away from France, but England is different.  I LOVE England.  I really, really do.  It was hard to leave Jamie too - people shouldn't see their very good friends only once every year and a half - we were practically inseparable.  His family was awesome too.   

As thanks, I bought Ana a bouquet of lilies -which turns out to be her favourite flower, thank you, Jamie - oh, and I almost forgot to mention - WE PLAYED CHUBBY BUNNIES!

Okay, that sounds ridiculous.  It is, a little.  Chubby Bunnies is a game where you take a marshmallow, pop it in your mouth, and say "Chubby Bunny".  Everyone participating does the same, and then you pop a second marshmallow in your mouth, and say "Chubby Bunny".  It's quite simple.  You keep going until you can no longer coherently say the words "Chubby Bunny".  Or until you vomit.  Whichever happens first.

I actually took a video of it, which I'm going to try and process later and attach to the blog. 

But yeah.  Everything was great.  Except for France's rail network and my delayed flight.  Those suck.  But everything else was great, and fantastic, and wonderful, and I find myself wondering why exactly I chose to come home. 

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand call me crazy, but now I can start planning my next trip.  Anyone want to cycle 1300km through southern Thailand, Malayasia, and Singapore with me in November?  And while I have your attention:

SHAMELESS SELF PROMOTION PART OF THE BLOG:

I'm doing a bike race next month in August for MS - multiple sclerosis.  I need to raise $250 to be able to ride, and I've raised $175 so far.  I only need another $75 to compete, and I know most people will read this last line, roll their eyes, and continue on - I know this because I've done it myself in the past - but I really, really want to compete, and it's for a good cause.  So if you can only contribute (I won't say donate, because that word seems to scare people) - if you can only contribute $10, even that is wonderful.

Click me to help a poor cycling gal out!

This is long, sorry!

Note:  This bit was written yesterday on the train -->

Nine hours on a ferry isn’t as cool as I thought it would be, it turns out.  About four hours into the trip I realized it took me as long to cross the channel from France to England as it did to FLY from Canada to the UK.  Lame.  

I’ve been bad about posting in the last little while, and I apologize.  I get like this towards the end of every trip – usually during the last week of a trip, I realize time is running out and I quit checking emails, writing posts, taking photos, even – all in the attempt to make the most of the last of the time I have available to me.  I never, ever want traveling to end – every time I get close to going home, I get really sad.  I really do wish I could just live out of my backpack, which is funny, because when I AM living out of my backpack, I wish just to have a spot to leave my stuff in one place.  Grass is greener on the other side, or something. 

It makes the most sense for me to catch up on the days I’ve missed, rather than tell you immediately about my day today, because one thing will lead to another, and I’ll just never mention anything that’s happened previously at all.

So, I don’t have access to the internet right now, but I think the last post I made was in the train station at Rennes...or possibly last night in the hotel.  I can’t remember.  

...no, definitely in Saint Malo.  Anyhow – Mont Saint-Michel was amazing.  The night I got into Pontorson, I biked out to it just to see – it wasn’t even intentional.  I had just gotten the bike, was riding around town (because what else would I do with a bike?) and I found a sign that said “Mont St-Michel, 10km. I couldn’t help myself.  I found the first ride there really difficult, mainly because my chain kept falling off – which I think was due to that broken derailleur cog.  Who the fuck makes this stuff out of plastic?  Actually, impressively, I managed to put 50km on that bike, even though only two gears worked, the derailleur was malfunctioning, and the chain had too many links in it.  Oh, and it hadn’t been serviced correctly since what I swear was 1982. ...and I was riding into a strong headwind.  Yeah, that sucks.

I cycled out again yesterday at 7am, and stayed on the Mont until about noon, when I cycled back into town.  I cycled around town for a while too, but I’ve got some saddle sores from biking + sweating + no bike shorts, and it was starting to really hurt to sit on the seat, so I gave it back to the rental place. 

Right – I’m sorry this isn’t the best description.  I’m distracted by these incredibly god-damned ANNOYING British people on the train (which is where I am now, because I’ll probably be busy visiting Jamie once I get into Shiplake) – they have this ringtone of a woman orgasming, and they keep playing it, loudly, and laughing in that way that fat people laugh, and I’m resisting the urge to break the phone into equal parts with their faces, and shove the pieces into their throats.  Not a single French person annoyed me, in the entire time I was in France.  I’ve been in Britain for ONE hour...just sayin’.

Mont St-Michel is huge.  I mean, I KNOW that it’s huge, but I didn’t really realize how large it was until I saw it in person.  It’s also filled with Asian tourists, which I don’t normally pay any attention to, but there has been such a lack of Asians in the last couple of weeks, it was startling to be surrounded by Japanese people.  I couldn’t believe how many tourists there was.  And literally like a hundred shops all selling the same souveneirs.  Silliness.  Tourists aside (yes, I realize I am one too) – the sun was shining, and I’m glad I went so early in the morning because I avoided the worst of the crowds, and the worst of the heat – it was quite hot yesterday.  I managed to burn waiting for the train to leave Pontorson later in the day.  

I explored the ramparts, and paid to get into the abbayé – I found it really interesting just to walk around.  I’ve been in lots of cathedrals before, but never ones that had military defences.  During the hundred years war, the monastery was seiged three times, and never conquered.  It was even a prison for a while, in the 1700s – it only just recently became a monastery again.  I went during low tide – there were signs in some of the parking lots saying to move your vehicle before 18:30 because the parking lot goes under water with the high tide. 

I really, really enjoyed the cycling there and back.  Enough that I’m going to do it again next year, but bring my own bicycle and cycle through Brittany and Normandy, I think.  I didn’t spend enough time there this time around.  So much more to explore!  

Saint Malo, for instance.  I only got to see it for last night, and most of the places were closed because it was so late – and I left early this morning.  Oh – I made friends with a dog!  His name was Beno, or possibly Béno.  (It sounded like Bean-o) ...little black thing while I was waiting for the fromagerie to open up for the morning.  I very last minute bought some cheese to bring home with me – it’s all sharp stuff, and the one that isn’t is rolled in wax, so it should be fine.  Vio said she has friends who do it all the time. 

Oop!  Low battery – I guess I’ll finish this in Shiplake!

Note:  This bit is written properly, online, in Shiplake -->

The ferry ride from Saint-Malo to Portsmouth was pretty uneventful, as far as these things go.  I was excited for the first couple of hours, and after that, it just became tedious travel.  I passed out on a bench in the sun for a couple of hours (with my hoodie over my face to keep it out of the sun) - it wasn't nearly as fun as crossing at Dover.  Dover was CRAZY windy and lots of waves.  For this crossing, I was just on a really big boat with expensive food.  I spent a fortune on food!  And I ate a sandwich at lunch time with brie in it, it was good by the way, but my stomach hurt for the whole of yesterday.  Oh, and I got yogurt served in clay pots.  CLAY POTS.  I can't believe people throw them out after - I kept both of them and I'm silly, but I'm taking them home with me.  

Oh, and I broke my light-my-fire spork today.  I accidently sat on it and it crunched.  I liked that spork. =(  

Getting into Shiplake last night was a little bit silly (a li-uulll bit) - the ticket machine only took european cards, none of which I own, not being European, obviously - and it took me 3 + hours to get to Shiplake even though it's only 2 hours away by train, because somebody threw themselves on the track at Meadowhead, a station near to Reading.  Oh, and it was the Henley Regatta too - so the trains were filled with smartly dressed, very drunk chavs, and women who wore heels so high and dresses so short they could have passed as prostitutes.  It's odd seeing what qualifies as dressing up in some countries.   

 

Seeing Jamie has been AWESOME.  It's much more preferrable to talk to him face-to-face than to speak via a computer (how we communicate otherwise) - shame my visit is so short.  His mother and his sister were quite welcoming as well, and so too was the cat (who never gives love to anyone, but gave me kisses the moment I said hi - yay kitty cats!)  - I haven't really spoken much to his dad or brother, but that's fine - his brother has smelly teenager syndrome, and his dad seems a little bit standoffish.  I don't mind, really - he took me for a ride in his vintage 1968 MG (little British sports car - it was fun!) - I do quite like his sister and mom.  I got to meet his grandmother this time too, as she's visiting from...Spain?  I think.  I could ask - he's sitting right next to me on his computer, but I don't feel like it.  

AND THERE ARE FAT PEOPLE EVERYWHERE.  Holy fat people.  I saw TWO in all of France.  

Today I made Jamie get up at what was considered sleeping in for me, but quite probably an ungodly hour for him, and we wandered around Shiplake (it didn't take long) and we hopped the train to Henley (Henley-on-Thames) and wandered around.  The regatta is still going on, which is apparently a huge boat race that people dress upper-class for, suits and dresses and the such, and it was kinda neat to see that.  And we went to the Starbucks where he works - and then walked back from Henley along a pretty path.  I'm not sure of what we'll be doing this evening, but tomorrow we're going to visit Oxford, and then I have to head to London because I come home on the 5th.  LAME.  

I want to live here.  I really, really do.  Oh, and it's been really strange to speak English and hear it spoken.  It took me all of last night to adjust - I keep wanting to automate back to French when people speak to me.

Nothing Coherent Here

God, I love this song.  For whatever reason, it just occurred to me that I can use Youtube - so I'm listening to Champion in Me by Three Doors Down.  Honestly, the best lyrics ever. 

"When the others cower, I'm in my finest hour,
We are champions created by design,
While I remember falling, I hear these dreams keep calling,
I work so hard, so long, I'll take what is mine  "


Anyhow, that's an aside.  I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE FRANCE.  I'm going to have to come back with my bicycle.  Speaking of bicycling, my bum is sore.  I rode 30 kilometres last night, and then 20 km more this morning when I woke up.  That's 50 kilometres in a 16 hour period, if anyone's counting.  Which I'm sure would be fine, if I had done any cycling at all in the past 2 weeks.  I haven't cycled since Amiens. 

So yeah.  My bum is sore. 

...and I'm sunburnt.  Did I mention I don't want to leave France?  Ever?

I will tell you about Mont Saint-Michel tomorrow.  I'm sunburnt, and tired, and I taste like tuna because I was dumb and decided to try pizza with fish in it.  Fish, blerr. 

PS:  I ordered mead with my lunch today.  Yeah - how awesome is that.