Transitioning...

(Picture uploader is working, but very slowly, so pictures will come later.)

We got back from Edinburgh and that very day Stacy and I set out to finalize our housing plans. We contacted our housing agency, and after several long dashes across London on the Underground, we finally had a place to stay.

It was going to take a few days for our flat to be cleaned for us to move in, so we spent those days sleeping (resting from Edinburgh), hanging out with Bob, and generally being lazy tourists. Oh, and Indian food, did I mention that before? I really apologize in advance to everyone who loved Indian food in Nebraska, but the next time we go eat Indian together I'm going to be a total jerk about it. I mean seriously, you're supposed to use naan as an eating utensil, not an appetizer! Meh, I'll get over it. What I probably won't get over is actually paying for Indian that isn't nearly as good as homemade... but I'll be emo about that later.

Eventually we moved into our flat. And, as Stacy has said, it's a charming little place. Our address, for those of you not on Facebook is as follows:
(Name)
55 Sedgeford Road
Middlesex W12 0NA
London, United Kingdom

But if you want whatever you're sending to actually reach us, you need to plan in advance. Surface/sea mail takes FOREVER. You need to send it by the second week in OCTOBER for us to get it. Air mail is faster, but you need to send it to us by the last week in November if you want us to get it before we leave.

Our very first day living in our flat (which is as-of-yet unnamed), our friend Nick from New York (the guy we hung out with in Edinburgh) called me. He was in London, which is awesome. We picked him up from the tube station and wandered around. We ate some shish and doner and a local shop, and then got ready to go out. Andrew showed up from Central, and we headed down to Piccadilly Circus... which was ridiculous. So many people. Yes, I know it was a Friday night in London, but it was nuts. We got wrangled in by a lady who works for a club ticket agency, where we got VIP Passes and cheap tickets to get into a club. We were fine with that, because it saved us about ten bucks on the cover.

It was a pretty decent night, but we left early because there were tons of 18 year old running around (drinking age is 18 in the UK). Andrew and our new friend Drew from Georgia went back to Tottenham Court Road, and Nick, Stacy, and I went around to find food. We explored a little, then headed back to Shepherd's Bush and crashed.

In the morning we went to the grocery and bought food, and Nick made us English breakfast. It was delightful, and filling (which was the best part, we're so poor). Then after a bit we walked Nick back to the Underground because he was leaving to go back to the States. It was a bit sad, saying goodbye for the first time to a friend that we had met here. It's odd, we'd known Nick for a grand accumulated total of less than a day, but completely got along great and have an established friendship. (And now we have a place to stay in New York... score!)

Since we moved in, we've spent the five days crawling around London, exploring the terrain. Sometimes it feels like we're mountain climbers or jungle treasure hunters, but in a good way. Streets in London are definitely NOT set up in the lovely grid pattern we enjoy in Nebraska. Sometimes the streets move in straight lines, but don't expect them to keep the same name for more than a few dozen blocks.

Mostly we've been spending days in Central (Zone 1), wandering around outside of our school, finding coffee shops that offer free wireless (which is rare), and just generally getting to know the place. We've mapped out direct and alternate routes home (sometimes the Underground lines decide to quite suddenly get severe delays, like when someone gets sick on the line, or when a signaller falls asleep on the job... doesn't happen often, but the King's Cross station has been up and down for three days because of signalling problems), found three used (second-hand, "charity") clothing and bookstores, and determined cheap places to eat. Yesterday we went down to the National Gallery and Trafalgar Square. We were in the Gallery for THREE HOURS and only visited about a quarter of the place. Definitely a place to re-visit several times. (Check out this webcam of Trafalgar Square.)

In the evenings we've been looking for slam poetry. Sad to say... we have no idea where these Brits keep their poetry. We've been all over the internet and the city, and have come up empty -handed every night. Sunday we went to The Foundry, this hot little indie bar east of Camden Town. Sure, the bar was hot. There were lots of indie kids hanging out. But the poetry... wasn't there. There was an open mic, but it was music, comedy, and wretched foul words tossed together and called poetry. We called it "Oh-Noetry". Plus one dude wrote a poem about breasts and then read it at Stacy, improv-ing it with lines about how he didn't care how big her "bearded" friend is, he still thought she was hot. Luckily people disliked his crap enough that he immediately left after his set was done. However, one good thing of the night, we met a dude named Louis ("like the kings"), who shared us his knowledge of the area, and told us about a spoken word reading on Tuesday nights at a place called "The Distillers". We took that information as good enough reason to have gone.

Monday night was a total bust. Went to two different places (in two different parts of London) and there was absolutely nothing. At the first one we had the wrong night, but the barista also said that it was comedy, not poetry. Then, dashing across the city to the Water Poet Pub, the baristas there had NO IDEA what we were talking about. So we took a long tube ride home and didn't even get to bed early because we wanted pizza... and then our oven didn't work, so we went and got take out at this cheap little pizza place down Uxbridge.

However, Tuesday didn't end up being too bad. Following the directions from Louis (who didn't show up the whole night, even though he said he never missed it), we found The Distillers, which was surprisingly close to our house. There, we paid a 5 quid cover and slid into a gold mine. We "slid" instead of "walked" because we didn't actually find slam poetry. But what we found was good. There's an arts organization in London called "One Taste" which hosts musical festivals weekly and monthly. We saw some amazing musicians. There was a Scottish band named "Blue Rose Code" which was awesome (plus they were Scottish). The host was named Jamie Woon (or something like that) and he played guitar and then did acapella with a loop machine, and it was great.

Possibly the best part of Tuesday night: there was a poet. Granted, he was a foul (that's British slang for "He was REALLY BAD"), but he was still a poet. Stacy talked to him after his set, and he gave us his myspace, because he's not a slam poet (we knew that already), but he's FRIENDS WITH SLAM POETS! So today Stacy sent him a message and now we're waiting in anticipation to see if he's going to hook us up. Seriously, being away from slam poetry this long is making my face hurt (cause it's not getting melted, obviously). I've gotten to the point where I go to Podslam and stare at Ken or Jen or Katie just to get my fix for the day.

Anyway, Stacy and I are about to head home. I think we're mostly caught up with "We did this today" and so I can get over my OCD and start actually writing about what I think of this place. Obviously we'll still tell you what we did today... but now with a lot more rambling and philosophical diarrhea.

Cheers!


(PICTURES WILL BE COMING SOON!)

Dislocation - The Yellow Wallpaper

Cheers!

Since Allen is pretty much a champion and has taken care of the postings thus far, I thought I had better contribute if I'm going to continue to call this blog part mine.

So we moved into our place, which is really quite adorable, even with the flaking yellow paint and gigantic floral stickers on the furniture (the interior designer inside me is TEARING HER HAIR OUT right now). Charlotte Perkins Gilman was on to something about this shade of yellow...seriously - so unsettling. It's ridiculously expensive compared to rent in Lincoln, but, believe it or not, a really good price for zone 2, London. We pay 100 pounds each per week. That's right - $200 a WEEK. We get our own rooms, though, which is pretty great for cheap temporary housing.

There's always something a little exciting about moving into a new place - exciting, and a little disorienting...especially if you're in a completely different country with no job and no idea how you're going to pay for the rest of your term here. That's being a bit pessimistic, I guess, but with a healthy dose of realism. This place is fucking EXPENSIVE. There is also the sense of ownership and personalization that comes with moving into a new place. I'm an interior design major - I connect with spaces. When I live in a space, I need to feel like it is at least a little bit mine. It needs to feel like home - like a reflection of myself and my tastes, etc. With our kind of budget, though, and the short time we will be staying here, I'm having a hard time finding ways to really connect with my environment. This might not be a big deal to most people, but it's a bit of an obstacle for me here. I have some ideas for the space, but most of them involve cardboard and sharpies...we'll see how that goes...

Edinburgh has been my favorite part of the trip so far. That city is SO beautiful. I know I've only been here a couple weeks, but I'd live there before London if I had my choice. There is so much history, and, let's be honest, the accents are AMAZING.

Allen and I haven't killed eachother yet, and though I was a little afraid of getting sick of eachother, I really don't think we will. There are few people I can be around this much and still want to see them alive the next day - luckily, Allen is one of them. It helps a tremendous amount to have someone with me who is not only responsible and attentive (something I cannot always claim of myself), but is fun to be around as well.

I've been able to keep in contact with people pretty well so far. The phones we got are kind of geared toward internat'l calls, so it's actually cheaper for me to call the states than somewhere here in London. I've been talking to my parents pretty regularly, and Amy almost every day (which has had a lot to do with my remaining sane through all this crazy travel nonsense - don't know what I'd do without her.)

We have yet to start our classes, but we journeyed down to visit the area a couple times, and it is definately in a very nice (very expensive) part of London. I'm a little afraid I will need to dress up for class...that would make me very sad. AIU is only one building, and looks to be predominantly a design school - mostly fashion. Ugh. Don't get me wrong - I love fashion, but to be honest, I just do not get women's fashion right now, and if I have to be surrounded by girls in $400 heels and 3 inches of foundation everyday, I just might throw myself in front of one of the neato 2-level buses they have here. I'll keep you updated on that...

And writing. Oh, writing. I've been trying, kids - I really have. I've written a few things, none of which I'm especially excited about, but I have plenty of ideas, and have decided to make a goal for myself. By the time I get back, I plan to have a chapbook done and ready to print. Lofty, I know, but I think I can do it. I would REALLY like to represent Lincoln at the 1st Women's Slam in Chicago this year, and the qualifying bout for that is just 2 days after my triumphant return to Nebraskaland. Pressure? Nah.... ok...maybe a little...

WOW. We finally found a place offering free wireless down here in Oxford Circus, and it happened to be a sports bar, which is fine, but seriously - these people are INSANE! There's some huge cricket game on ("match?" "game?"...whatever) and it is so lound I can barely hear myself think. It makes me miss NE football a little....very little, but the sentiment is there.

This place is getting ridiculous....I'm out.


-stacy

The First Week, Part Two

(Okay, picture uploader thingy = still not working. Work on that later)

Sept. 16
We left Inverness the next morning, taking a train back to Edinburgh. It was odd to leave the place. Even though were were there for only about 36 hours, I felt a little connected to the place. I am sure that Inverness is one of those places I'm just not ever going to forget. The train ride back was sad, in its own way. Watching the Scottish Highlands flatten back out into lowlands, as Edinburgh grew closer. But we all three loved Edinburgh, so it wasn't all that sad.

Once we got to Edinburgh, the first order of business was to find a hostel. All three of the hostels owned by Macbackpackers were full, so we had to find somewhere else. Eventually we ended up at the Cowgate Hostel, which was only 9 quid, cheaper than Mac's.

We went to Edinburgh Castle for a history tour. It was amazing. The castle was huge. In the castle there are hundreds of years of history. Wars, revenge, intrigue. It was absolutely fascinating. The Scottish Crown Jewels are held there (under some tight security. Oh, and they don't allow cameras into the Honours Room, lame).

One of the best parts for me was seeing the Stone of Destiny, or the Stone of Scone. On this stone there have been literally hundreds of Scottish kings and queens crowned, the stone itself being an integral part of Scottish history.

After the Castle closed, we went to Carlton Hill, one of the highest points in Edinburgh, and watched the sun set (obviously taking LOADS of pictures). Then we dashed around the graveyard where David Hume is buried (actually stood inside his tomb).

Before we went on the ghost tour, we went to a FOUL Fish and Chips place. Stacy had a deep-fried cheeseburger. Here's how you make a deep-fried cheesburger:
1) Make a cheeseburger (with cheese)
2) Deep fry the sucker... including the cheese.
It was absolutely disgusting, but my deep-fried chicken sandwich was all that bad.

Finally, we went to the City of the Dead ghost tour. It was pretty entertaining. Not really worth the 6 and a half quid, but it was entertaining. The best part of the tour is when I caught an orb on my camera. Check this out:
The tour people were significantly impressed. Another girl on the tour caught a few more orbs, but they were very faint compared to mine.

After the tour, we talked to the only other young people on the tour, who both ended up being solo backpackers... from America. So, sadly, the first night we went out drinking on our trip... was with Americans. Ah well, we'll survive. Nick was from New York and Stephanie (the other girls with orb pictures) was from New Jersey by way of Florida. We headed back to our hostel, which was just across the street from this club Opium, which had really cheap drinks.

Opium also ended up being a goth/emo/alternative bar that only played 90's rock music on the dance floor... completely lame. But with the five of us it was fun.

After getting slightly intoxicated, we wandered around for a bit looking for food. Seeing none, we just went back to our respective hostels and crashed, after making sure to share contact info with Nick and Stephanie.

The next morning we went to the Royal Museum of Scotland, which was pretty sweet. Luckily, it was free. Then we dashed down Canongate and tried to get into the Holyroodhouse Palace, which is the Scottish residence used by the Queen of England when she's in the mood to jaunt up to the Highlands. However, it was rather expensive, so Andrew stayed and Stacy and I went to the Scottish Parliament building across the street. The Scottish Parliament has a rather interesting political history, so that was entertaining. Stacy loved the interior decorations... wait, I mean the architecture. Right.

We went to a lovely little cafe on Canongate, and then trekked up the Royal Mile to the Elephant House. What's so important about the Elephant House, you ask?

THAT'S WHERE J.K. ROWLING WROTE HARRY POTTER!!!

Erhem... I mean... it has a rich literary history. Actually, news articles inside claim that at least three books besides HP have been written there as well, which Stacy and I, as wannabe writers, found impressive. So we subjected Andrew to several hours of us feverishly writing in an attempt to absorb the creative energies of the place.

At that point we wandered around New Town, found a bar called Hog's Head (at this ponit those of you familiar with Harry Potter will realize how much of Edinburgh probably ended up in good ole HP. There's also a drink at the Elephant House called "Fleur's Delight" which the barista claimed had been there since BEFORE HP4 was written). Eventually we ended back up at the train station, to take our train back to London.

Check out Stacy's post on our new flat, and look for The Second Week (or rather The Transition to Living), coming soon.

Peace and Love to you all.

Cheers!

The First Week, Part One

Right, so I know that we've been here for a week and a half and it has taken me this long to make a blog and post something to it, but whatever.

Sept. 11 - Sept. 12th
Andrew, Stacy, and Allen... leaving on a jet plane.
The plane ride was actually not that bad. Stacy and I sat together and there was a decent amount of room, so we weren't too upset about it. Arriving in Heathrow, we figured out why it's known as a wretched airport. We were new to it, of course, but we waited for almost an hour to get through Immigration. We got through alright, picked up our luggage, and wandered out to the "Meeting Point" to wait for Andrew, whose plane was landing two hours later. I had developed a cold a few days before, so I was generally miserable sitting there for three hours. We were hungry, tired, and I was all stuffed up. Eventually Andrew showed up and we started making plans. Originally we were just going to stay in a hostel for three weeks until school started, but wanted to contact some of the people we knew here first. Andrew called his roommate's friend Bob, and thankfully the kid answered. We explained our situation, and he gave us directions on how to get to his house, hoping to just drop off our bigger bags and then find a hostel or look for trains to go right to Edinburgh (pronounced "Edd-in-borrah"). Our bus trips took two hours and lots of hassle (we got off at the wrong stop, they only take exact change, which we didn't have, we were lugging around three huge bags each), we finally arrived at... KFC. Yes, KFC. Bob knew we would recognize that, so he met us there. From that point, we were saved. Bob took us to his house, insisted that we stay for dinner if not overnight, and helped us figure out what the heck we were doing. We talked, shared stories, smoked a few cigarettes, and generally had time to relax.

Bob's mom and sister got home and it was even better. Their family is from India, and we had Indian food for dinner, and it was ridiculously amazing.
The three of us were completely dead on our feet, and so at 9pm we crashed in Bob's family's living room, which was surprisingly comfortable. We slept for almost 14 hours, we were so tired.

Sept. 13
We spent the rest of the day with Bob, going for a walk, making plans for Scotland. Bob's mom made us more Indian food, which was again amazing. We're so ridiculously spoiled on Indian food now, Americanized Indian food will never again suffice. Ever.

We left late Thursday night for Edinburgh, taking a night train. We almost weren't able to get on, we got the last three seats. There were four guys from Notre Dame sitting near us, but they weren't very talkative, so we all just tried to sleep all night. The train ended up an hour late into Edinburgh, which didn't bother us since we had no plans, but the Notre Dame kids were pissed off about it.

Sept. 14th
Edinburgh is gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful. We spent that Friday wandering about. The only thing of real importance we did was go to the National Gallery of Scotland. There we saw several pieces by Raphael, Botticelli, Degas, Van Gogh, Monet, and others.

Later in the day we looked around for hostels, but not having made a reservation, we weren't able to find a place, all the hostels were full. So, what to do? Change of plans, go north.

We found a train to Inverness, which is in Northern Scotland. On the train we got kicked out of our seats by a group of middle-aged Scottish women, who nearly ruined our love of the accent by how rude they were. They got drunk on the train and were completely obnoxious, and since we were already tired, I was still sick, and a little stressed about having to change our plans, we were pissed off most of the train ride.

But the view of the Scottish Highlands up north was amazing. The Fife of Forth, a large bay on the east of Scotland, was alongside us for much of the first part of the trip. We got into Inverness late, found our hostel, and found some food and beer as quickly as possible. We made plans for a two-hour hike up to Loch Ness the next day, and went to sleep after a long day.

Sept. 15

Inverness was an important city to Scotland, hundreds of years ago. A sort of crossroads from Edinburgh to the south, and then Urquhart Castle to the west. That morning it started raining, and after picking up some supplies (Stacy and I did not bring warm enough jackets, and Stacy forgot socks... oops), we decided to take a bus instead of hike. Urquhart Castle was an important strategic outpost on Loch Ness, and we spent the day there. It's in ruins now, but the castle on the lake is still breathtaking.

After spending the day there, we took a bus back again to Inverness. Across the loch was a rainbow, and Stacy and I took several picture of it. It's not surprising that the folk culture in Scotland is similar to Ireland, with stories of fairies, ghosts, and witches and folk supernatural experiences. The forests are thick and wild, and haunting in their own way. There is something raw and real about the Scottish Highlands that is strange for kids from Nebraska.

Getting back to Inverness, we ate dinner at the Blackfriar Highlands Pub to get some traditional Scottish food. It was delicious, and I accidentally ate sheep. (I thought haggis was a vegetable product, I have no idea why, shut up). Then we wandered back to our hostel and hung out practically the entire night with the night porter, Evan. Evan is an Aussie who travels around, finds a place to stop, works for awhile to get money, and then travels some more. We've made plans for him to come visit us in Nebraska in April, when he travels through the States.


The First Week, Part Two will come soon.

Welcome to Juicy Bits

Welcome to Juicy Bits. This is the travel blog (and maybe more?) for Allen and Stacy and Andrew and their adventures in the United Kingdom.

First off, the origin behind the name. We were talking to our British friend Bob, and "pulp" (as in, the pulp in orange juice) is called "juicy bits" in British culture. That, combined with the fact that we're going to be giving you juicy little bits of our lives here, gave us the first part of the name. The second part of the name comes from the fact that we are in the British Empire (duh), and Stacy and Allen's flat is located in Shepherd's Bush Empire. Plus Stacy says it reminds her of Star Wars, which was more incentive for me to push for that aspect of the name, my nerd soul was demanding it.

And so, here it is. Juicy Bits of the Empire.