Leap Year Wednesday

An extra day  is just what I needed to finish recovering from this bug.  Other than class yesterday and a trip to the British Museum, I spent Monday and Tuesday reading, sleeping, writing, and resting.  Today after the faculty meeting, I packed for tomorrow's trip to Barcelona!!

In the past three days I read 5 novels, three work related books and a vast number of articles interrupted by naps.  A serious reading binge with intervals of intense paperwork--administrivia, for the most part.

I do feel 95%  recovered.  I leave early tomorrow with bag packed to deposit at campus before meeting up with students in Kensington Gardens.  Many of the students have departed tonight for Spring Break (which really begins after class tomorrow through Tuesday).  One group is off to Munich and Berlin, another group off to Barcelona, another group to Ireland, yet another group to Lisbon.

I am really enjoying the esprit de corps of this group. It is very different to use the City as our laboratory and to rely on students' observations of one another to fuel class discussions.  In Social Interaction this week, the students brought their Myers Briggs profile and we discussed how certain preferences can clash with other preferences.  They had so many examples from the past few weeks of the different ways folks process information, etc.  It make the discussion much more energetic that we all have come to "know" each others' eccentricities.  The overall morale is very high and that makes it 100% more fun.

About nine  of the student arranged a Paris outing last weekend on a bus!!  It was 44 BPS for the round trip on the bus and ferry--they left Friday am and returned an hour before class Monday looking like rats off a ship.  But they had a great adventure.

I meet my sister, Patty, in Barcelona and the rest will be captured in photos.
Hasta pronto, mi companeros.

First Sunday of Lent

Well, sleeping 12 hours last night seemed to bring victory over the bug I am fighting.  My energy level was still off today and by evening, the throat is starting to threaten me again—but I am determined to win.  I refuse to be sick for the Barcelona trip on Thursday.

Spring is definitely making overtures.  Although the crocus may be easily fooled by a few days of warm weather,  there is plenty of evidence that other buds are busting out. This bulging bud is on my neighbor’s fence.  Can’t wait to see what the vine turns out to be.

This is some kind of mystery tree in the garden where I do laundry in the basement.

Upclose of the mystery buds

Here, at the bus stop are irrefutable early flowers of a fruit tree.  This all makes me very happy.

Yes, that is blue sky peeking through the sticks and flowers.

So, ever the optimist, I have asked Patty to bring some of my winter clothes back to California with her after we leave Barcelona and she completes her business in London. I’m looking for less to lug around on the train when I leave London for Paris and Frankfurt end of April.

Took a walk through Havistock Hill and Belsize Park today, then boarded the bus to Finchley where I had noticed a Waitrose the other day.  Students living in Kensington rave about Waitrose so I wanted to check it out.  It is an amazing grocery store that makes my upscale Mark and Spence look ho-hum.  Then, since I was so close to Jubilee line, I took the tube to Tate Modern. 

Here is some graffiti for Nancy that I spotted on a bridge between the station and the Tate.

Caption to the right of the jester:  "I know that you know that nobody knows."

Note to self: don’t go to the Tate on a sunny London Sunday when ½ the city is there.  Too crowded for me, and I was not feeling it. Although this "Michaelangelo with clothes" was amusing.

 I found myself constantly drawn to the windows looking out over the Thymes.   

So I left, and from Southwark took a different route home.

It is always good to return to Hampstead where I prowled around Waterstone’s bookstore and found two novels.

Hampstead High Street near Pilgrim Lane

I love the signs the Brits put up.

And, this is one of the things I see all around London that make me wish I had my pruning shears:

This climbing rose was not properly pruned and will lose some of its glory due to the bad butchering.  For a culture that is known for its gardening, what are they thinking?  I can't tell you how often I see these scraggly roses; such carelessly tended and pitiful plants.  Very sad.

After a supper of salmon and greens, I plan a hot soak, a pot of tea and a long read.

It is with a twinge of envy that tonight  I will miss the annual Stocker’s academy award party: Barbara always makes it memorable with fun games, prizes and interesting discussions on the movies.  I miss the girly girl talk. Thinking of y’all.  And here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson (I trust you have returned from Prescott): give Cynda, Sharon, Barbara, et al. my hugs.

Night all.

Saturday, February 25

Crocus are peeking up in lawns and cracks in the sidewalks.  These little yellow, white and purple dashes of color are such a hopeful sign that today’s warm weather was not a fluke.  

There are narcissus flowers popping out, too, with their paper white fragrance in the strangest places. Before I left the flat this morning, the sun was beating in so warmly, that I opened all the windows to get fresh air circulating.

What a change.  The light this morning comes at a slightly different angle with much more intensity.  And, this afternoon, the slant of the light reminded me of autumn in Southern California—rather shadowy and long with a slightly purplish hue.  I was able to go to my late morning meeting in a tee-shirt and skirt, although I brought a sweater along just in case.

Last evening I met Cheryl’s UCI professor friend for dinner at a Turkish restaurant near London Bridge.

Friday nights there were like mid-town Manhattan on a Friday.  Lots of bankers in suits drinking on sidewalks, waiting for tables (or maybe just drinking), couples hustling about, packs of 20 something year olds prowling while the restaurants pulsated with music, laughter and chatter.  Think Las Vegas strip with a business crowd to the 10^th power.  It is a very different scene than here in posh Hampstead.
 

We had a very enjoyable meal before the place got completely rowdy.  We shared a lamb dish and a broccoli stewed with grapes (I know it sounds unlikely, but it was delish).  We had a jolly laugh over sharing the same experience with a certain physics professor from UCI we both know.  Hilarious to me!  AneeJay—if you are reading this: think about the first time I had St. Patrick’s dinner at your house and my appalling, paralyzing experience.  Apparently, that is his signature reputation, which eclipses his literary and scientific accomplishments.  Who knew?

On the way home, on the walk from the tube in Hampstead down Flask Walk, it was late enough that the jazz combo was playing at the pub.  I took an expresso and chocolate cake to justify my lingering and it was a nice experience.  There was a standup bass, a piano, a drummer and a sax.  There was also a vocalist (although nothing to write home about).  All white guys over 50 who were technically competent if not creative.

This morning after my meeting and errands to keep body and soul together, I took the tube back to Chalk Farm to look for a Persian restaurant I spotted the other day that offered a lovely plate for 4 pounds.  It was a late lunch, early dinner and really good lamb with balsamic rice, yogurt sauce, cucumber/tomato salad, grilled veggies and something wrapped in grape leaves. 

 I walked much of the way home until the chill in the air suggested that the bus would be a splendid idea.

Nancy is considering a trip to London in late March.  I think I convinced her about how much there is to do—but, more importantly how international the population is so that she will not be intimidated by (or, alternatively disgusted by) the Brits.  They are in the minority in the City.  Her possible visit is welcome news to me.  We’ll have fun.  She can enjoy my favorite meetings except the one I stumbled into a few times that I later discovered was intended for MSM.

It is almost 6 pm now and the sky is a blue violet in the twilight.  The Easter lilies gave the flat the familiar aroma and I am physically tired, but extremely content.  The lifestyle here agrees with me and so does the weather.

I must remember when I return home to walk often and farther than I do.  It really feels good. My son-in-law, AC, calls these “short dog” workouts where there is a burst of energy required for short times.  Here, everything is a 15-20 minute walk from tube or bus stop so in any day, it is normal to have  4-6  walks of 15-20 minutes.  Walking 2 hours a day at home (all at once or in spurts) would improve my overall well being.  And, of course, here one carries all groceries, laundry, etc. rather than driving somewhere.  All in all, it is a good thing.

I am surprised how content I am living here.  There are a couple people in my thoughts often that I miss seeing.  And, I miss Kathleen and AC.  I hope my Mom continues to feel good.  I can’t truthfully say I miss the dogs (I don’t).  I don’t yet miss digging in the dirt, either, which is a real surprise.  I do miss Chrystal Cove, Heisler Park and I yearn for the opportunity to cook and entertain again.


Here is how the Hampsteaders get their milk, bread and water.  The trolley always makes me smile.

The other side is full of glass milk bottles.
Hope y'all have a great weekend.
I am fighting a bug, so I'll retire early tonight

Thursday February 23: Camden Lock

It was a clear, beautiful morning in London.  Warm.  

Our inequality class left after an hour discussion of globalization and inequality to Camden Lock Market where students were to document where items were manufactured (poor, underdeveloped countries vs. post industrial economies).  We took the 168 bus from Russell Square to notice the changing nature of neighborhoods we would miss otherwise on the tube.

Camden Lock Market just coming to life as we arrived. It is most aptly described as tourist souvenir destination con swap meet complete with food stands (really, more like permanent catering trucks).  We had an hour to gather data and then return via tube to the classroom.

These mopeds provide the seating up and down the canal.

Here we have Jeff and Raymond inside a restricted area of the channel. 

And, Lizzy & Amanda lounging on one of the Camden Lock Lions.

The food was 50% Indian, 30% Chinese, 15% Middle Eastern, and a mix of other including one hamburger stand and  the curious Mexichinese menu  which offered nachos as well as firecracker chicken bits.

                                                                                               

The canal itself is pretty dirty with evidence of encampments in the tunnels and caves.

Several students have been chasing down Banksy graffiti around London and heard there was one close by.  Six of us left the market in search,and finally came on this:

Surprised it was enclosed in plexiglass, I discovered that the building owners put up the protection the day the graffiti was discovered to prevent its destruction.  The little boy blowing bubbles in the orange lettering, “Tox,” is a protest of the imprisonment of another tagger, Tox.   

 According to the press,  Banksy (real identity unknown) has authenticated it as one of his own.  

His art is stenciled on buildings around London with political satire and anti-capitalism messages.  

David Cameron gave the Obamas a framed example of Banksy art—some of which has sold at auction for hundreds of thousands of pounds.

Here are two I will get round to see courtesy of my students.  First shows children pledging allegiance to Tesco--a multinational corporation with grocery chain all over the UK--parent company of Fresh and Easy.

By 11am, it was really too warm for my sweater—the coat had been stripped much earlier.  This is a real change in weather. 

We walked from the Camden station to Camden Town station and took the Northern Line back to campus where we discussed globalization and watched a film clip on the privatization of water and electricity in Bolivia by Bechtel Corporation and the IMF.  The lack of curiosity in global issues discourages me.

Last evening, I had an interesting dinner in an Anatolian restaurant near the Heath.  Excellent lamb with just so-so veggies.

Here is another of those unusual examples of signage--reserving the street for children to play.

"Play street 8am to sunset except for access."

Today, I had to meet the landlord here to pay rent and wait for a FedEx package from Molly (last attempt to deliver before return) so I am catching up on lecture prep, laundry, etc.  And, trying to scope out the Barcelona trip—leaving Thursday!!!  Patty wants a walking tour—I am assigned research since she took care of the hotel.

I am considering going another weekend to see Berlin—so being on “sit and stay” today is a great opportunity to check out airfare, hotels, etc. Plus, I need to make reservations for the Paris stay on the back end when I leave London enroute to Frankfurt.

This evening I am finally meeting Cheryl’s friend, Carroll, for dinner somewhere in the East End. 

Happy Friday.

Reentry to the London Life

2/22/2012

It is quite a change to be back in London after the relaxing three days in Portugal. Something has shifted in the weather, and although London is still chilly, the days are a touch longer, the air not nearly as nippy and the winds are still cold, but not bitter.  It was a treat to be in warm, sunny Lisbon. It is raining sideways again as I write.

The highlights of Lisbon: wonderful, serious coffee; amazing museums; tile extraordinaire; friendly, helpful people; interesting architecture; and a slow pace.  It was enhanced by having a compatible companion in Nancy Harlan, whose mind works like mine and our way of being in the world is simpatico.

Some thoughts on Lisbon trip. 

The Monet painting: Ice Breaking Up, Grey Weather transported me out of body.  It was near the end—the second to the last room—of a wonderful collection at the Calouste Gulbenkian Museum.  The Armenian financier/petroleum engineer had ceramics from the Ming dynasty, tapestries from Persia and a huge collection of rugs.  There were fantastic pieces from the Far East and Europe, including a room full of Rene Lalique hair combs and trinkets with precious jewels that left me drooling. 

But that Monet did something else.  I stood and watched every aspect of the winter river scene while being overtaken with a supernatural calm that anchored the emotional rollercoaster that pinged me around.  Then I sat in the middle of the room for another 30-45 minutes looking more deeply into the water in the ice.  I was surprised at how a number of people came by the painting, looked and left.  For me, it was like listening to a musical composition—elaborate, engaging and overpowering.

Although it does no justice, here is reproduction:

In the same room were Manet’s Boy Blowing a Bubble and Mary Cassatt’s the  Sock which shows a toddler in his mother’s lap with one sock on—very touching.

Our little hotel was plain and adequate—although the room was cold at night. For 25 Euros each per night, we had no complaints--that included breakfast with real yogurt, cheese and ham.  It was glorious to have hot water on demand.   We even had a little balcony (below with our "view")

Located about a block off the  Avenida da Liberdade, we were closer to Restauradores Square than to the landmark Marquis of Pombal Square. The wide avenue had a wide pedestrian center with typical Portuguese stone pavement.  We were unclear how so many women were able to walk around in heels.  These are slippery.

There were two charming water features that flowed like rivers down the sides—and statues (Neptune?) acting as waterfalls.  Little cafes provided the coffee and seats to enjoy the promenade.

Eduardo VII Park is a huge one down the center of Lisbon—Nancy and I walked from the top down to the Marquis of Pombal Square where we discussed which city bus would take us to our destination—the Castle of St. Jorge.  As we decided on a bus, some waiting at the stand tried to tell us, in Portuguese, that we were planning to get on the wrong bus.  One elderly man gently pulled me back from getting on—shaking his head and talking.  Finally he held up 3 fingers, nodded and then held up 6 fingers.  We said: #36 and everyone smiled and urged us to wait for #36. 

The castle was accessible by cable car up steep, winding streets.  We thought the cathedral was the castle and disembarked too soon.  No worries, we lit a candle and found a cunning little restaurant for supper.  Fantastic meal.  Then we set out on foot to the hilltop.  The castle took up all of our Sunday afternoon as the views were spectacular, the ambiance was serene with peacocks roaming, cats sleeping in gardens, and toddlers and grannies with their familias.

These are some shots from the Castle.

On Saturday we had spent the day in Belem—the old part of Lisbon with more narrow cobblestone roads, hills and the modern art museum.  Here is the monastary built in the 15th century.  It is huge.

Not on our list of “want to do,” that museum pulled us in when Nancy spotted a piece by one of her favorites—Nikki de Saint Phalle.

It was an interesting collection of contemporary art with very good narratives about each style.

Some of it was disturbing. I wish I had my camera—which was in confiscated backpack—to photograph one post colonial painting that summarily captured imperialism and the European rape of Africa in a very graphic way.  The image will stick with me forever.

We also found the graffiti all around town was engrossing.  Here are three buildings right off the main street in central Lisbon. 

 

 

 

And the favorite for all times--a post-colonial comment that shows a man dressed as a banker or businessman. In one hand, he holds the globe.  His crown is decorated with the symbols of the conquistadores and international banks and corporations.  The straw on which he is sucking is planted in South America.  Need I say, he looks bloated.  Fantastic.

We were certain these were all graffiti rather than murals because of the technique--they were done roughly with quick strokes--obviously by a tag team who'd graphed it all out ahead of time.

We saw public art and tiles all over.

 The Tagus River is very important with many, many memorials and statues.  Here is a meager sample

 

 Lisbon is an interesting mix of old and new.  There are ancient buildings in the same block as the high rise apartments, the Prada and Gucci stores, etc.

 

 

 

I have a warm place for Lisbon and was very comfortable with the Portuguese people.  Good outing at just the right mark in my stay.  Being out in fresh air was lovely.  

Last night the AIFS gave a faculty reception for all the consortium faculty.  It was hard to mingle, but fun to get to know my colleague from CSUF English Dept and the two performing arts faculty from Wyoming.  It was in a tidy little square in a wine bar that sells Cuban cigars.  

This morning, I  took a long walk (longer than planned since the map did not have a legend) trying to get to the FedEx.  I walked through Belsize Park and College Crescent to West Hampstead.  Mission accomplished.  Laundry done.  Class prepped.  Mystery book picked up at the airport calls me now.

Ta Ta