A Long Way for a Sarnie: A Sunday Drive to Gloucestershire

Taking random road trips are becoming our specialty here in Oxford. Sunday is the perfect day to jump in the car and roll out to unknown parts of England. Our lovely driver this weekend, Rhianna, wanted Miriam, Viki, and I to see the beauties of Gloucestershire, a nearby county in South West England.

Driving through the winding roads and seeing the brilliant countryside brought back memories of growing up upstate. Long rock walls lined the main motorways and rolling hills were endless. We saw a sign for a Roman Villa and decided to check it out; apparently there are whole tours in the UK based around the exploration of these villas. Of course, being poor grad students, we didn’t quite get into the villas, as much as a wander around the giftshop. A £5.50 admission fee suppressed any desire for historical education.

We tumbled through the tight road back to the main route, not without a few near-heart attacks rounding the blind corners. I don’t know how these Brits drive; first off, with the whole other side of the road situation, and then with the obvious one-way streets being used as if they were four-lane highways. Anyone who can navigate these paths in a vehicle gets major props, though I have a feeling there might be an upcoming entry about how I learned to drive in England… so stay tuned.

Up the road, we decided to pull off to a random village and grab a pint and a sandwich. The town of choice was Newnham on Severn, about ten miles outside of Gloucester proper. Surrounded by the Royal Forest of Dean, this place was your typical village, with plenty of pubs and even more oldsters.

We walked into a pub with one of the best selections of cider in the country, only to remember it was Mother’s Day in Great Britain (shout out to the J-Money). It was packed, so we hiked up the hill to see some other options. We were attracted/intrigued by a bright blue building, which we came to discover was the friendliest pub in all the land. Seriously…

The Ship Inn was beyond fantastic, we chatted with who I presume were the owners about grabbing a bite, but they said they were done serving food. The woman called up the street to a rival pub to see if they were still dealing out a bite, but alas, they weren’t. In the meantime, the other owner must have cut a deal with the kitchen, and he offered us a last-minute roast dinner. Yet again, our poor student wallets wouldn’t allow for a £12 lunch, so as we were about to leave, he came back with a negotiated offer: a beef or pork sandwich, with a salad, for a fiver. Sold.

It was a supreme sarnie and with a pint of Guinness to wash it down, lunch was a memorable one. Here’s a major PS about some dramz going down at The Ship Inn: the town council is making them paint over their distinct blue with a far more dull white or an even duller cream, so it will match up with the other boring buildings around the centre. Can’t say the blue color was an extremely attractive one, but it certainly caught our eye and is the primary reason we walked into this little gem of a pub. So if you’re ever in Newnham, drop by what will inevitably be a white building named The Ship Inn for a quality experience. It will make you love England, I swear to it.

Normal for Norfolk: The East Anglia Expedition

When I told some Brits I was headed to Norfolk for the weekend, most responded with a quizzical “why?”

It was a legitimate question; as an American living in England, there are countless places to visit while on this little island. So why had I opted for three days in East Anglia? Easy… I was invited.

It’s fairly obvious by now, I enjoy a travel adventure. So when my friend Viki invited a few of us to her hometown of Norwich, the excitement overflowed. Not only did it lay way for more exploration, but also the prospect of being in a house with a home-cooked meal appealed more than you can imagine.

Some four hours on what Viki deemed to be the bus of doom, we arrived in Cambridge unscathed. Another jaunt on a bus and then a pick up from her family, we were nearing Norwich (which for ages I thought was spelled Norridge. It’s all in the pronunciation, friends).

Now forget everything you’ve heard about Norwich. That includes any inbreeding jokes or the Wikipedia description of it being: “remote, unsophisticated, gauche, and out-of-step with national trends.” From what I could gather at my weekend visit, it’s actually a charming, practical city.

It’s one of the top places to shop in Great Britain (oy vey, I could feel the headache approaching), it has 30 medieval parish churches built of flint, and was home to the fictitious broadcaster Alan Partridge.

On day one we were greeted by the Mortimer family… possibly the friendliest of Norfolk folk you’ll ever meet. We stayed in with a meal and a movie, all in preparation for the next day’s spree.

The excellence in shopping was not exaggerated, with a variety of modern day shops lining the cobblestone streets. It felt downright American being among so many malls, each equipped with the compulsory food courts and clothing outlets.

Around noon we swapped consumerism for culture and kicked it old school with a visit to the cathedral. Built in 1096, the upkeep of this site tops off at £3,700 per day. Yikes. Despite that sum, we skipped the donation and wandered around the inside, along with the outside labyrinth (apparently yet another site used in Harry Potter. Is there any part of this country untouched by that twirpy wizard?)

It seems like the Norwich nightlife has plenty of possibilities. That night we rocked it out at a local bar for an engagement party: food, drinks, and dancing made the perfect trifecta for the evening. If you’re in the area, park it at one of the local garages and find the club that suits you best.

The next day we headed out to Great Yarmouth for a typical seaside town experience. A walk along the water, an ice cream cone, and a meal of fish and chips at Harry Ramsden’s made it the kind of outing children’s poems are written about.

All in all, the weekend excursion to East Anglia was one of my favorite weekends thus far in England, and I got to spend it with the best of friends. Many thanks to Viki & family for the hospitality and the invite.

Bring a Coat: Amsterdam

Amsterdam wasn’t exactly a tropical destination to escape the gray of an English mid-December. But the one advantage of negative temperatures is that flights are cheap to the ‘dam, so that’s where a group of my friends jetted off to for an end of term celebration.

We departed in style with British Airways (£44 one way from Gatwick) and slummed it on Easy Jet (£30) on the way back. When we landed at Schipol Airport about an hour later, we were greeted by booming drums and an assembly of clowns carrying mops and brooms. That’s the first indication that Amsterdam is different…

From what we gathered by the signs, it looked like the cleaning staff was on strike at the airport. Bizarre way to express your dissenting views against administration. We managed to squeeze our way through the crowds and buy train tickets to the city centre, about 30 minutes on extremely clean trains.

Once you arrive at the Amsterdam Central Station, by all means vacate the vicinity. Even if that means hopping on a tram without pay, escape the creepiness that is the train station and all the potential gypsy thieves that go with it. We might have been gypped on our tram tickets, paying €20 for four days, but we bought them in the most convenient location (a coffee place in the station) so took it and left asap. We still have leftovers, so toss me a holler if anyone wants to buy it off me.

If you can decipher the long Dutch names of tram stops, you’ll find it’s one of the easiest non-English transportation systems in Europe. It’s straight forward and meticulously on time, however we did run into several mean tram operators, who liked shutting doors on us and shooting scowls our way.

After much research beforehand, we selected the Stayokay Amsterdam Zeeburg Hostel (booked on HiHostels). This Stayokay ranks as my second favorite hostel ever, only coming in one behind the Globetrotter in Edinburgh. A converted school, the Zeeburg is gigantore, clean, and surprisingly, empty. But the best part about the Zeeburg is the price: £7 a night. Admittedly, we did stay there in the depths of Dutch winter, so prices might shoot up when temperatures go higher than freaking freezing (the exact temperature of Amsterdam in December).

It’s pretty easy to find dens of dubious activity in Amsterdam, with drugs and prostitution being legal and encouraged. But A-dam is also full of cultural hotspots, with the Van Gogh Museum (one of my favorite art museums), the Anne Frank House, and the Rijksmuseum of Art and History.

There are plenty of restaurants to choose from around the Rembrandtplein stop, shopping abounds near Dam Square, and some nice photo ops are found near Waterlooplein. Just listening to the names of tram stops is entertaining enough for me.

Checking out the flowermarket is nice, but overrated in the guide books. Avoid the Sex Museum, it’s a complete rip off and just weird, as you can imagine. And be sure to hold onto your purse/wallet while walking through the Red Light District (also, refrain from taking pictures, unless you want a pimp to knock your knees out).

As for food, there’s a diverse mix in Holland. Brazilian restaurants seem to be everywhere and Indonesian cuisine is popular, so try to plan a Ris Tafel meal (Rice Table). They’ll cover the table in delicious looking food for a set price, so be sure to research your restaurant of choice—Ris Tafel can range from €8 to beyond €100 each. Buy as many stroopwafel as you can carry, have a Heineken for good measure, and grab up some fried dough goodness at a stand.

If you’re inclined to do a day trip outside of the city, let me dissuade you from hopping an hour train to The Hague. It’s a government town and I seemed to get the stare down from the occupants while walking the dark streets. I might be selling it short, being my jaunt there lasted about an hour in total thanks to some miscommunication (shout out to Sarah Kramer), but seriously… stay in Amsterdam. Or find a small town to visit if you want to experience Dutch life outside A-dam.

My only recommendation is to explore this city in warmer temperatures, but when you have a group of good friends by your side, the city seems warm enough. Thanks to Miriam, Caitlyn, Viki, Rhianna, Sarah, Lauren, Sarah, and Zack... who all know how to rock it, wherever they go!

Beer, Bretzels, and a Buchmesse: 48 Hours in Frankfurt

It’s mid-October in Germany and I’m surrounded by twentysomethings in a huge convention hall.

No…it’s not Oktoberfest, but instead, the Frankfurt Book Fair.

A group from my publishing postgrad course jet-setted to Deutschland for the weekend to experience some beer, bretzels, and a buchmesse at the biggest trade fair for books in the world.

We set off early Thursday morning via coach from the Brookes campus to Heathrow. Can’t say the five a.m. wake up call was pleasant, but excitement beat out sleepiness as I anticipated my first jaunt to Germany. We had to put the exhilaration on hold for a few hours though, as our flight was delayed thanks to London fog.

Once British Airways got us safely to Frankfurt, we hopped on a train to the city centre. Group rates will get you a discounted price, so if you can gather five people together, you can roll into town for a few euros each.

The Frankfurt Hostel, merely steps away from the Hauptbahnhof (train station), was on the sleezier side of things. Stuck in the middle of what we deemed to be the red light district, the only thing the hostel had going for it was its convenient location. Beyond that, it was hard not to notice the stained sheets and equally stained carpet.

Bed rates range from 18 to 22 euros, with private rooms going for anything between 50 and 88 euros. Shoot for the private ensuite set up if you choose to stay there. Avoid their elevator of death.

A 15-minute walk landed us in the Römer square, a fantastic plaza dotted with shops and restaurants. All forty of us grabbed a drink and I had my first official German pint of apfelwein, an apple cider Frankfurt is known for. We then wandered over to the Paulaner Munchen restaurant for a traditional meal. From schnitzel to strudel, the brewery popped out a fantastic dinner. The service was unimpressive, but waiting on forty rambunctious students would prove challenging for even the best of servers, so this is me giving them slack. It seems to be a chain, so check it out if you come across it.

Friday was devoted entirely to the book fair, a massive collection of publishers from around the world. The exhibition hall itself was impressive, as it seemed bigger than most airports and ran like a city inside. We poured over the stands upon stands of publishers marketing their latest launches and their old faithfuls. We gained insight to the industry and got a taste of business networking, all under one massive roof.

We rocked the fair from 9 to 5, so a quick nap before hitting the German party scene was necessary. A few of us headed out around 7 for a quick bite at a small Italian restaurant and enjoyed some Weizen beers, because what’s Germany without a few pints? Meeting up with the rest of the group, we dominated a local pub off the main square and then headed to a club.

The prices seemed high in Frankfurt, as the club entrance fee was 10 euros, though it got negotiated down to six. Once inside, the drink prices were exorbitant—although as an American in Europe, the exchange rate makes every price exorbitant. Our group danced to electronica until 3 a.m., hopefully having worked off a few calories from the dense German food.

Saturday was spent in Mainz, a smaller city on the west bank of the Rhine. A train from Frankfurt will cost you about six euros return. Good luck navigating the electronic ticket stand, it was all in German.

We caught the tail-end of a lovely morning market in Mainz, full of fresh veg, fruit, and flowers. The Gutenberg Museum was the main goal of the day-trip, which only cost 3 euro as a student. The museum is home to a Gutenberg Bible and many printing presses, though the museum didn’t seem to cater to foreigners. It was hard to find any English translations to the plaques and the only information sheet cost money.

Lunch consisted of a bretzel and wine as a group of us sat in the main plaza watching the world go by. The sun was blaring and the city was bustling, couldn’t have asked for a better day. We made our way back to the airport after 4 p.m. and luckily didn’t have to suffer through another delay. Although Frankfurt was beyond great fun, Heathrow was a welcome sight…And so was my bed when I finally made it back to my dorm, my home sweet home away from home.

Pick up a few German words/phrases before you head to das land der dichter und denker (the land of thinkers and poets). Go HERE for some tips.

Cheers from Oxford: Updates Soon

Greetings from England!

I've arrived at Oxford Brookes University and have been getting everything organized this past week. I have a cup of Starbucks coffee in hand, a SIM card on the way, and everything else I need to start up this term. Modules begin today, but despite the inevitable barrage of work, I'm going to attempt to travel this semester. You can look forward to more entries here on Prepare for Landing; I have high hopes for getting my travel on! I'm thinking about the following locales (red is definite, blue is hopeful):

• Frankfurt, Germany
• Glasgow, Scotland
• London (encore)
• Wales
• Various spots around England
• Bologna, Italy
• Spain, Portugal, Morocco
  
• Czech, Austria, Switzerland
• Turkey

I realize blue far outweighs red, but a girl can dream, right?! If you have any suggestions, shoot me a comment or e-mail...oh, how I love comments or e-mail. In the meantime, I'm writing a blog for the ISAS (International Student Advisory Service) at Oxford Brookes. You can catch it here:

http://www.brookes.ac.uk/student/services/isas/blog2.html