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Disasters In Cheap Travel's Journal

24th April, 2005. 11:51 pm. London, United Kingdom - Globetrotter Inn London

There was disappointing news when I checked my plane reservation on last time (actually the first time I've checked it since I landed at Gatwick). My plane leaves tomorrow at 1:50 p.m. I thought it left later in the afternoon and that I'd have a chance to do one last thing tomorrow morning and [that] was eat lunch in Brixton. I still may be able to squeeze in breakfast but since everything in this town opens at 10:00 a.m., it's a tough call. Brixton's right on the Victoria line and my train to Gatwick leaves from two stops away right at Victoria station but I don't know whether or not to risk it.



The full calendar of football matches the O.S.P. shows. Little did I know walking into the bar that I was being an agent of unwanted gentrification. The bar used to be a neighborhood pub called Old Suffolk Punch. When they gave it a makeover, they tried to hip it up by taking the name down to just three letters. Being a Yank, of course, I didn't even notice the difference since it was just like so many bars back at home. The inside was swanky like the outside, which was slightly uncomfortable, but I was there to watch the football anyhow so none of the lacking ambiance really bothered me that much. Plus I just figured the ritziness of the crowd was due more to the fact that it was a Manchester United crowd more than its location or redesign. After all, it was a Fulham bar so I figured it was the same kind of crowd that was at the Golden Lion ordinarily (4/24/05 6:04 p.m.)


I could just grab something one last time in Hammersmith since I've enjoyed the borough of Hammersmith and Fulham as much as I thought I would. I almost caught the last movie here. I asked at reception where the nearest theater was and was told on the main road in Hammersmith. The receptionist gave great directions but for one flaw. As I was walking down King Street a guy with an accent asked me where the cinema [was]. He was walking in the direction that I had been pointed and was now turning around.

I went back to reception and asked again. The spot where the receptionist said the theater would be was indeed [a] theatre but it was a Polish theatre. So I kept on walking and sure enough on the other side of the street from where it was said to be was the UGC Hammersmith. I went inside to find a selection of American films except for one called "The Downfall" which was a German film about the last days of the Nazi regime - a subject I've delved into enough already in England.



The silver shiny exterior of O.S.P. I'm not even sure how I ended up in this particular bar since it's not recommended by Lonely Planet (who basically doesn't recommend anything in the neighborhood except for a couple of restaurants). I'm not even sure what possessed me to get off the train at the Hammersmith stop besides the fact that even though I was staying in the neighborhood, I hadn't really spent any time there. Plus I think I wanted to stay a little closer to "home" on my last night in London. Of course this idea didn't last long as before I knew it, I was back in Piccadilly Circus - which just like Times Square just kept drawing me back despite how much I tried to avoid it to see a movie. At the time, I thought this was as shiny as I would see that night (4/24/05 6:05 p.m.)


Luckily the theater had a listing of all its sister locations and I knew where a couple were. The one I was most sure of was the Shaftesbury Avenue at the Trocadero location. At least I thought I was sure. I got to the Oxford Circus tube stop with confidence only to find that Shaftesbury Avenue was off the Piccadilly Circus stop. Since they're close together I managed to make the 8:30 showing of "The Edukators."

I had left Hammersmith hoping to find a British film and I ended up seeing a German film like I would have closer to the hostel. But while my goal was to, for the first time in my life see a "foreign" film in its country of origin in the end the title isn't important since seeing a film in England was interesting regardless for the subtle difference and the location.



Despite O.S.P.'s facade, this part of the neighborhood actually felt like what I would feel traditional Hammersmith would look like. Not that I had any clue what traditional Hammersmith actually looked like. And by traditional I mean a couple of decades ago and not back in the day where it seems like it was industrial to the core. Though from what I understand, the northern part of Fulham, way north of Craven Cottage is still a very big base for light industrial work. Though I have to say that this building looks a bit too brilliant a shade of red (but maybe that was just the way I set my camera) to be as historic as what it hopes to appear to be (4/24/05 6:06 p.m.)


The Trocadero is, in a word, intense. It make the AMC theaters back home with all of their bells and whistles seem tame. While the theater itself is pretty tame, the Trocadero is an epilectic nightmare full of lazer lights and video game noises from multiple arcades. There is even a bowling alley in the complex. The average age of the patron seems to be about 15 (security made me take my hood off). And the amazing thing was that when the movie let out just after 11:00 p.m., it was all still going. And since its England, the underage kids were drunk.

The movie experience itself was pretty similar except that the previews were much longer (not in total length but the length of the individual shorts). And when the movie ended there was no clapping but maybe that was just that people didn't like the film.



Desite the fact that it's supposed to be a dominant landmark, the London Trocadero sorts of hides itself well - a major feat considering what it contains within. I don't know what I expected but the outside is actually a break from the neon of the streets surrounding it. It more than makes up for it on the inside. The whole thing is like walking into a giant arcade complete with space invader noises everywhere. One of the most impressive things, however, is the escalator which just seems to climb forever through all of the levels and which were covered in teenagers even at (or maybe especially at) a late hour on a Sunday night. I think all that I saw were young people until I actually got up to the movie theater. Even the ticket line wasn't completely youth. Maybe the other grown-ups knew about some sort of elevator straight to the movie theater that I didn't know about. Though maybe they also found a way to go to the restaurant the whole complex used to be. This is just another shot of the outside of the Guiness Trust Building (4/24/05 6:07 p.m.)


In the end, there was a lot more clapping at the end of the Manchester United match. When Newcastle went into the half with a 1-0 lead, I honestly thought I was going to witness the impossible - watching Man U lose two matches in a row. But in the second half United got angry, put Christiano Ronaldo in and won 2-1.

I didn't actually catch much of the second half since a local guy about my age sat down at the table I was occupying along with two female friends about my age also. He seemed to be trying to hook me up with the one at my side of the table. He made it a point to say she was, "very single." And she wasn't unattractive but I'm on a plane tomorrow and all so a random foreign hookup remains something that I haven't done.



I was on the Fulham Palace Road (hence the sign pointing to Craven Cottage) to see the Manchester United match so I was in at least somewhat familiar territory. This is the road sign that pointed down to where I was positively familar. Slightly later I would be in very unfamiliar territory only blocks from the hostel. The desk at the hostel gave out a map to guide people that few blocks west into a more proper part of Hammersmith (that still didn't look like any other part of London I had seen) but it was still hard to find. There was a cul-du-sac on the street the hostel was on that made life a little harder but mostly it was just how non-descript the area was once I emerged from the little subdivision like part of the city. There was no such problems later on as I wound down the final night. Though I rushed home to write the final journal entry of the day so I wouldn't be distracted the next, it did flash through my mind that I should look for one more nightlife thing to do in Piccadilly Circus. I don't regret not doing that though (4/24/05 6:09 p.m.)


This guy was extremely friendly in general and kept asking what he'd have to do to impress me enough to get in this journal. Not that, in fact, is a first. As I draw near the end of a fourth one of these, he's the first person who's ever requested to be mentioned.

Money spent: 470 pounds ($940.00) - 9 for the movie (and that's something that['s] unfortunately the same in both countries)

Make Notes

24th April, 2005. 5:00 pm. London, United Kingdom - O.S.P.

England shouldn't be much different than home I guess. Back in the states I always worry about baseball games I should have gone to. So it's only natural that here I would fret about football matches that I should have attended. Besides the Manchester City match on Wednesday there was the Fulham match at Middlesbrough that I chose to go out to Bolton to see Southampton instead.



I'm not sure if this woman saw shocking in front of her or if she heard something shocking on her phone. But from her body language it seems like she is intimidated of climbing down the hill from Greenwich Observatory in a way that some people are nervous about climbing up it. Though I am in agreement with her imagined expression somewhat since the view is positively breathtaking of Greenwich when you're looking north as on the climb down. Or maybe she's just surprised that everyone climbing up (note the expression on their faces, it really is a steep climb) has the exact same shopping bag that she does. Though I think the real reason is that she's with them and is shouting back at them to hurry up the pace to get up to the observatory (4/24/05 2:04 p.m.)


I don't regret not going to the south coast today to watch Southampton in Portsmouth. Besides the obvious cost, there was also the problem of potential violence (Southampton manager Harry Redknapp even warned against it). In the end, Southampton lost big (I think I heard 4-1). When I go on the tube it was already 2-0, when I got off the train it was 4-1, 30 minutes into the first half.



It's so rare that I wake up early enough in the United States to listen to BBC Radio Five Live's leadup to the noon-time kickoff. This is even the case with a program that I really love, "Fighting Talk" (where a presenter and three guest argue comically about the sporting issues of the day) which is on at about 5:30 in the morning in the central time zone of the United States. But on my day out in London on a day where matches were taking place throughout the day, I got to hear the entire run-up. And then I got to actually hear the match as opposed to a taped announcement telling me that "due to contractual obligations" they were going to have to block me and everyone else who would want to listen to a Premiership match in the United States. Though the first match of the day wasn't much of a match (as could be expected from two clubs in or near the bottom of the table) as it faded in and out on my little radio. Though with two bad teams, I never expected the blowout that occured. I think I was still listening to BBC Radio Five Live as I approached the tube even though the match was over - though based on the results it's tough to say if it ever started for Southampton (4/24/05 2:19 p.m.)


The plans to watch this match ended up changing slightly as the tube took so long. I decided instead to watch the match in a pub off the Hammersmith tube stop. Unlike in the states, the match was a little difficult to find. Not every pub over here shows sports. Only the ones with signs in the window show sports with sound on.



Another view of Canary Wharf station and its ubiqitous campaigning for the 2012 olympics (not that it has a mind of its own apart from London). This shot also includes the bottom of the glass canyon that create the skyscrapers around the station. Truth be told, I wasn't as awed by Greenwich as most guidebooks expected me to be. Lonely Planet describes it as this separate little village from the rest of London but I didn't get any vibe off of it that was any different than anywhere else that I had been. The buildings didn't seem any older (or more importantly homey) and the attractions didn't seem to be any more inviting. I acutally couldn't wait to get back to Hammersmith which I had become quite acoustomed to and which I almost felt like I was at home in (4/24/05 2:41 p.m.)


Some things are exactly the same though. Right behind me is a Manchester United supporter who's here with his girlfriend in a Fulham supporter pub. His girlfriend just keeps shouting, "go Manchester United" even though she seems to know nothing about football. So in that was it's just like a sports bar back home.



There were some very serious anti-racism posters on the big train (otherwise known as the inter-city trains) in York that I took some pictures of and posted in an earlier entry. And the anti-abuse of employees signs were also in the London tube. Though this was not one of them. This was a really funny ad campaign on subway etiquette or it's just another sign knocking the French (who's to say really?). Seriously though, I swear that looking at this photo again I want to make it into a t-shirt and wear it around Chicago on the train to remind people who stand in the door how rude they're being. In London while this still happens at least the mayor is really involved (the tube is apparently his second pet project after ridding the city of pigeons) and it's not a fight by the forces of manners over the forces of idiocy as it is in Chicago (4/24/05 2:46 p.m.)


Money spent: 461 pounds ($922.00) - 5 on two ciders (one for each half), 4 on some football watching nachos

Make Notes

24th April, 2005. 1:41 pm. London, United Kingdom - Royal Observatory Greenwich

I wanted to write this entry in the eastern hemisphere but inside the gates of the museum, which is almost completely in the eastern hemisphere, there's nowhere to sit. I got here just before the time ball rose at 11:58 as it has every day for centuries. I caught it going up nicely but it went down quite a bit more rapidly. The video that I took on my camera even has me saying, "oh shit."



There is a small problem with using a guide book in a city that is as much of a slave to fashion as London - it can get out of date really quickly. In this case, it was believing that the tours for the BBC were contained in the same building while it underwent construction. Of course there was no way of knowing that the BBC House was under construction even though I listened to the BBC leading up to the day that I wanted to take the tour. Of course it would have helped if I had planned a little further ahead because part of me even thought that the BBC tour was in Manchester and not in London. I did get to meet a couple of nice security guards, however, who politely handed me a brochure at the front desk and told me to go over to their television broadcast house in White City. I almost did so on the same day but decided I was going to head back down to the south side of the Thames River since I had become a bit aware of it the night before and that area just north of Hammersmith was too much of an adventure to embark on right before the trip ended. This is a pretty building near Oxford Circus that has nothing to do with the BBC (4/24/05 9:44 a.m.)


But I don't want to kill too much time at Greenwich on my last full day in England. I've gotten quite a value out of my rail pass today. I started the morning taking it all the way to the BBC Broadcast House near Oxford Circle only to be told that they now do the tours in the west end much closer to where I'm staying.



I think I found the Imperial War Museum easier than I had found anything else the entirety of the trip. Of course it doesn't hurt that the building dominates the landscape of the South Bank. Well maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration but they do have a giant courtyard. Not that they make waste of this huge expanse. The whole courtyard is filled with sort of modern, sort of pop art sculptures about the nature of war. This one was the most chilling ones with a missile painted to look like a pencil. It's a slight variation on the whole crayon shaped missile thing but it was still powerful. What's odd is that this clearly anti-war sculpture right in the yard of the War Museum. I guess this goes along with telling both sides of war that the museum seemed to want to do at both the Manchester and London locations (4/24/05 11:28 a.m.)


As it was only 10:00 a.m., I decided to go down to south London and the Imperial War Museum. Unlike in Manchester, photography is strictly banned (as it is here at the observatory also). But I think I've seen enough other tourists taking pictures in the last couple of days that I don't need to take my own.



This display would make a lot of sense at the Cutty Sark stop of the Docklands Light Railway but it was at Canary Wharf on the Jubilee Line instead. Still it's the gatway to the regular London from the Docklands - it's more an isolation thing than anything else since the Docklands are only connected to the rest of London's train system at one point. So I can definitely see the whole "time is money" metaphor that this art is trying to show. I was a little concerned about a different time and a different money. I wasn't sure if the DLR was actually included in the daily pass that I had purchased for the train. I had this reoccuring daymare of some guard coming through the train and collecting tickets. Turns out it didn't happen but had it, I would have blamed the city of London for not labeling the DLR as a separate entity from the tube more clearly (4/24/05 12:12 p.m.)


One thing that I failed to mention a couple of days ago (other known as the last entry) was that the women sitting next to me in the pub yesterday was also American. They sat there drinking wine and I listened in until a French couple sat at my table and started talking. It's funny to watch them on the tube with their little maps. Me, I feel like I'm no longer a tourist where the train is concerned. Having caught the DLR to get down here I've taken every line but one.



The Royal Observatory at Greenwich is a playground for obsessives. And since I'm a bit of an obsessive, it was a playground for me. This is the Prime Meridian as it straddles the walkway leading out of Greenwich Observatory. You're supposed to, of course, imagine it going on forever. However, I'm really surprised that it doesn't based on how far they do take it. The numbers along the side are how far west of this line that each city is. There are matching numbers for cities in the Eastern Hemisphere as well. I'm sure at one point, this was finely clear glass but it has since began to buckle from people standing on it to say they're in both hemispheres at once. That or they did what I did and straddled the line (most having other people taking their picutre doing so). Like I said, Greenwich Observatory is a place for obsessives, and I'm an obsessive (4/24/05 1:38 p.m.)


It's such old hate now I just complain about the district line closures instead of worry[ing] about them. Though I do have to say that I worry about where I'm going to eat based on how long its going to take to get home. I was going to eat dinner in Brixton but that's only after I find that sports pub - the ultimate touristy thing to do.

( marking time where time begins )

Money spent: 452 pounds ($904.00) - 5 pounds on the tube day pass since I can't find any other place to spend money

Make Notes

23rd April, 2005. 9:08 pm. London, United Kingdom - The Museum Tavern

Another entry in another pub. But this one is far less local and far more famous. This is the pub that Karl Marx used to drink in after a hard day of research. Somehow it's not at all how I pictured it. For one thing it's far too bright and for two, when I walked in, Madonna was playing.



This kid must have had some training to be an opera singer since he definitely seems to be grabbing at the note of his "Fulham sucks" chant. The two kids who were dragged along with their Fulham parents really bothered me. I didn't care that they were Chelsea fans, as such. What I was angry about was that it seemed like they were Chelsea supporters who were fans of Chelsea becasue they've been the dominant team for most of their young lives. Basically they're Manchester United fans wearing Chelsea blue because Manchester United hasn't been as good in their memory (well dominant when they were babies). For their part, the rest of the pub put up with them in good spirits because they realized the same thing. I bet in a few years, they'll end up Fulham fans like the rest of the pub when they realize how obnoxious they're being. Or maybe they won't since they were pretty obnoxious in general (4/23/05 2:22 p.m.)


Not only that but some of the staff is in costume. I half expected a cheesy motif of communist icons but this is far worse - one of the staff is dressed as a knight and another is dressed as a maiden. Perhaps it's for St. [George's] Day but if its an everyday occurance than Marx must be rolling in his grave.



This is the sign that was on the door of the pub. While I guess it only applies to Fulham fans over 18 based on the kids, I was pretty intimidated by it not being from the neighborhood. Usually a sign like this would mean that outsiders are not only not encouraged but not welcome. By the time I walked past the bar immediately inside the door I expected all eyes to be on me. But it turned out no one even noticed me walking through the inside part of the bar toward the patio. This was even the case with the bartender who took quite a bit of time to acknowledge my being at the bar. But at least she didn't tell me to go right back out the door when I made my presence known and carried my cider to the back where there were long tables to sit at and watch the match (4/23/05 2:40 p.m.)


Frankly I don't understand London nightlife. After I woke from a nap at 7:00 p.m., I observed my roommates putting on full coctail dress. Perhaps they were going to a formal event but if so, why were they staying at a hostel? I swear they almost didn't serve me at the Indian restaurant yesterday because I wasn't dressed to the nines like the rest of the theater crowd in residence.



After the match I think I sort of followed the same path as the District Line (though looking at a map, that's impossible since it doesn't follow any road and runs in some pretty weird right-of-ways). I did go through at least one landmark that would be recognizable from someone who traveled the train route as opposed to the foot one. This is the road that gives the name to the middle stop between Fulham's stop and Chelsea's stop. I would have to guess that this would mark the borderline between the two groups of fans. Though it didn't seem like the kind of road that would mark some sort of Bloods and Crips feud. It seems exactly like its pastoral name would indicate. Still when I crossed the line, I somehow felt as though I was entering an entirely different world - though according to the sign a different world still in the exact same postal code (4/23/05 3:04 p.m.)


The daytime pub crowd was much more my speed. I sat behind a man and his child and [an] old man who liked to swear at bad calls, poor service (and the time between drinks was sarcastically impressive), and pretty much everything else. He was really fun to talk to however since I think he was too senile to realize I was American.



While the other border was the midpoint, this was a division that was much starker and much closer to Stamford Bridge. This was, in fact, right around the corner from Chelsea's home ground. This is an outdoor stretch of shops which seems to be called Fulham Court (named after both the road and the borough it's in). Inside Fulham Court is Chelsea Electrical. It's just too perfect because the Fulham sign is in red and white (the only thing missing is the black) and the Chelsea sign is in blue and white - boht of which I'm sure is intentional. This is also probably the case on the other two signs which follow the same color scheme. I wonder which one of the two crests that that the tattoo parlor refuses to administer on the skin of opposing fans. I think since it's closer to Stamford Bridge, there might not even be that much demand for Fulham tattoos (4/23/05 3:07 p.m.)


To be truthful though I was taken in completely. Only one person in the pub even batted an eyelash that I was there. One person commented on my camera but mostly the atmosphere was just brilliant. Fulham scored right before halftime and the whole pub seemed expectant that the big upset could happen going into the half 1-1. But at the start of the second half Chelsea came out firing in what the commentators called their second gear.



I knew that I had reached the area right at Stamford Bridge not by the noise or the color of the jersey but by the fact that there were police officers all around. This is actually one of my favorite shots that I took. Not necessarily for the composition but for the look on the face of the officers. Certainly the assignment of making sure drunk Chelsea fans don't get into fights with drunk opposition fans isn't the easiest job that riot police can have but I'm sure there's a lot worse. Still if any riot police officer ever had a happy look they wouldn't be doing their job. I also like how the younger officer in the back looks like he's a bit in odd while his partner is more wisened. It's so police drama movie stereotypical (4/23/05 3:14 p.m.)


I shouldn't say entirely silent though since despite the sign on the door, there were some Chelsea fans in the pub. The most notable of these were two red-faced youths who kept poking their head in through the doorway and screaming, "Fulham sucks!" The crowd would just respond to them, "take your blue flag and shove it up your arse!"



I'm sure I didn't mean to take such a long nap back at the hostel and I wasn't even out late the night before or up early. I must have just been exhausted at the end of the trip. Since I had already eaten to boot, I wouldn't have even known what to do with the entire center of the day to do something in London. Though when I woke up, I was ready to get some dinner and see a movie. This was, of course, something with my schedule and eating habits in the recent days not the order which this would probably happen although it actually did as I ate at Waterloo Station as I looked around the south side of the Thames first looking for a movie to see. This photo was taken near the National Film Theater in Southbank. I seemed to be spending a lot of time on the south side of the Thames even though all I had planned to do down there was Greenwich (4/23/05 8:05 p.m.)


My favorite cheer though was when the crowd chanted, "there's only one club in Fulham." The funniest thing was that Chelsea is just over the borderline. I'm not even sure they're in Chelsea but more in West Brompton. I walked down the Fulham Road after the match to check out the happier scene and sure enought they were flying the champions banners even though they haven't officially clinched.



There seems to be some sort of dispute about what neighborhood the National Film Theater is in. Some guides have it in Southwark and some have it in Lambeth. Whatever neighborhood it's in, while I was around it, it was one of the few times while I was in the United Kingdom that I felt generally unsafe. This area of London felt positively deserted at this time of night despite the fact that there was a movie going on inside the theater (or a few movies). I don't remember what movies these were but I even think they were classic American movies which I could have just as easily seen on DVD. So the combination of the two factors, fear and boredom, drove me back toward Waterloo Station and the north side of the Thames where there were lights and people and buildings that didn't look like creative office buildings dominating the skyline (4/23/05 8:05 p.m.)


And now I'm ending St. [George's] Day in Arsenal territory (at least I think since the museum is just off Tottenham Court Road) so I've pretty much done the whole circuit. My plans to see a film at the National Film Theater were shorted when I discovered there was nothing but classics showing. But I still plan on doing that tomorrow. All that's left in London that isn't touristy for me to do is Greenwich and the BBC Experience.



Emerging back above ground in the middle of the parts of London that was lit up with the holiday evening lights, there was certainly something interesting dominating my view. Monolithically standing above the Tottenham Court Road tube station was a giant Freddy Mercury statue to denote that "We Will Rock You" - the musical dedicated to the rock group Queen - was the standing engagement at the Dominion Theater. I have to say that I was intrigued by how much effort was put into this show that I had never heard of (but I don't follow musical theater at all). And it seemed to be very British since it was Queen. Had it not been past the time that a show would start, I might have even inquired about tickets. Turns out it's one of the most expensive plays in the entirety of London so it would have just been a waste of time (4/23/05 8:38 p.m.)


Hopefully I can squeeze these in before the Newcastle United/Manchester United match at a pub to complete the football experience.

( walking around all corners of the middle of London )

Money spent: 447 pounds ($894.00) - 3 on a veggie breakfast (Fulham is very vegetarian friendly and the eggs, beans, and mushrooms were great), 2 on a Fulham pin from the Fulham store (bigger than the Man City kit pin to show relative importance), 3 on another egg and tomato sandwich at Watrloo Station, 2 on a pint of cider where Marx probably never drank cider

Make Notes

23rd April, 2005. 12:22 pm. London, United Kingdom - The Golden Lion

On this St. [George's] Day, I thought for sure that Speaker's Corner in Hyde Park would be crowded with people shouting. But the rain got in the way. So at about 11:00 a.m., I decided to head down near Craven Cottage to catch the Fulham/Chelsea match at a pub. I originally thought I would catch it in Hammersmith near wherever the old punk site are but getting off the Hammersmith tube stop I realized they would[n't] be easy to find.



I'm not sure why I chose to go to Hyde Park to kill the morning before the early kickoff in the Premiership on the bank holiday. I guess I figured since it was a holiday that it would be some bastion of activity before the day really got started. I went most for the world famous Speaker's Corner which turned out to be entirely silent. I guess with the patriotism of St. George's Day prevented people from coming out and screaming about the injustices of the world or other such things that a conservative thinker would consider to be anti-England. But there wasn't a complete lack of activity in Hyde Park. There was a lot of sporting activities, for example (with people kicking around footballs being the most prominent, of course). There was one activity which I knew wasn't illegal but didn't really expect to see just due to the fact that Hyde Park is in an urban area (though being gigantic, I guess it is sort of rural) - a group of people riding horses through the park. Though the trail is clearly wide enough to do so. I think it's wide enough to drive a monster truck through the middle of Hyde Park - not that that's an advisable activity (4/23/05 10:51 a.m.)


Getting to Putney Bridge was especially interesting since to do so meant taking the District Line through the Fulham Broadway stop for Stamford Bridge. The whole train was a sea of blue which led me to ask another group of Fulham supporters I saw at the Earl's Court stop if the away stands were actually sold out (which of course they were) since no one seemed to be coming in from the city.



After touring around for a bit in the morning, I decided to get serious and head back to Fulham to watch the match. The trains were surprisingly uncrowded as I headed west considering that it was the direction of the only match in town (at least in the morning). I expected it to be sort of like a Cubs game where people were shoulder to shoulder - and wearing a lot of blue. I did get the lot of blue thing that I expected with Chelsea kits being the order of the day (as being a home match they would have the most of the suporters). But these two heroes in white were bucking the trend completely with their Fulham shirts heading to the visitor's section of Stamford Bridge. They weren't the only ones who were wearing Fulham jerseys at the changover to the District Line from the Piccadilly line but this photo shows they were wearing them the most proudly. Although this might be one of the most posed photos (which is saying something since I used to work in a portrait studio) that I've ever taken so their expressions might not be entirely natural. I'm not saying (4/23/05 11:30 a.m.)


But here I am at a pub labeled "regulars and Fulham fans only" and it's wonderful.

( feeling the pride all around me on St. George's Day )

Money spent: 437 pounds ($874.00) - 5 on the train day pass and 3 on a cider

Make Notes

22nd April, 2005. 11:22 pm. London, United Kingdom - Globetrotter Inn London

Since I got to the hostel around 7:30 p.m., I decided to get out and explore what London was like after dark on a Friday night. I figured the est place to do this was Piccadilly Circus. I took the District Line to the Piccadilly Line and when I landed above the ground it was as if I were in Times Square in New York City.



This is my version of one of the most famous photos in the world (and by famous it's possible that I mean overdone). This is the TDK/Sanyo sign in Piccadilly Circus. Now the circus itself is not this sign, it's actually a traffic circle with a statue in it (apparently of eros) that I did not see. What I love about this shot is the fact that I managed to capture (I'm not sure if it was intentional or not) a truly American scene in the middle of London. The Coca Cola advertisement, for example, has a baseball reference. And right beneath it is an advertisement for the world tour of Destiny's Child - who I'm sure is big all over the world but is definitely a distinctly American "group." Or three songstresses with a backing band. But at least the bottom add is British. Though I wonder how many bands that are playing that are American. It has to be quite a few to be advertised in Piccadilly Circus (4/22/05 8:53 p.m.)


The whole area was aglow with neon advertising and throngs of people. The shops were all still open though they were getting ready to close. It was so touristy that it felt wrong after all of the other places I had been. Some of the less ritzy shops in the area (including the one in which I bought new batteries for my camera) advertised the fact that they took not only pound but euros (which is something I've seen). And many of these shops did something I hadn't seen. They took U.S. dollars.



I didn't bother to listen to the accents in Piccadilly Circus but I wouldn't have been surprised if it was a pretty similar set of accents and languages to Times Square. That is, a lot of people speaking German and Japanese and almost no one speaking with the local accent if they were speaking in English. Though I'm probably wrong (and probably being a bit offensive) since the crowd on this particular Saturday night was actually extreemely young and it probably wasn't the contents of the various hostels that was spilling out of every shop, underground station, and restaurant that I passed. Though I'm sure as this sign definitely attests to, there are a lot of people speaking with accents straight out of the United States - though hopefully not all of them southern like the British seem to think that we all speak with (4/22/05 9:02 p.m.)


I knew that finding dinner in this area would be a losing proposition in terms of both quality and price. So my next order of business was to get lost in the west end past all of the theaters (including one with [a] play co-starring Patrick Stewart and Joshua Jackson of all weird combinations). I ended up walking all the way through Soho and into Covent Garden (where the Ghost Tour ended and back into pricey).



I'm not big on the whole theater scene no matter where I am but I guess it's supposed to be something to do that has to be done to see a show in the West End. Maybe once I go back to England with a large group of people, I'll have to catch a show at one of the world famous theaters (though I've been to Broadway a lot of times and had never seen a show there either until recently). There were a few that were tempting, I do have to admit. Besides this play (and it doesn't even matter what it's about) starring Captain Picard, there were all of the plays that are big in New York City plus a few others. Had there been one that was quintacentially British, I would have probably been overly tempted despite how low on money I was. Or not this night since it was already far past when the evening shows had already started (4/22/05 9:05 p.m.)


The Indian restaurant I finally ate at ended up being 20 pounds after gratuity. But since the Crystal Palace game is sold out tomorrow (and their prices are really high for such a terrible side but that's London football for you), I decided to treat myself. I couldn't leave England without eating at a single Indian restaurant after all. Though I did catch a Malaysian restaurant near some of the theaters that I almost ate at instead.



The entrance to Chinatown which is just off of the main area of touristy interest to the north. I actually stumbled upon it while lost (which is odd because the same thing actually once happened to me while I was in New York City a couple of times) and the only reason that I knew what it was is that there's no mistaking that shape of gate illuminated with what looks like lights left from Chinese New Years. The small meal I had a Burger King was almost completely gone from my stomach by this point and I almost stopped to eat something there. But the thought back to the horrible experience in Manchester's Chinatown - as well as the thought that one of the best Chinatowns on the planet is right in my home city - kept me going on to find the cuisine of one of London's better known international populations (4/22/05 9:09 p.m.)


The problem was that slight difference between American and English restaurants, the freebies or lack thereof. Back home at an Indian restaurant (besides the fact that it would be buffet to boot), the water flows freely for the spicy food and the nan is free. At this restaurant, when I ran out of the two pieces I was given with my vegetarian thali, I asked for more. Two more to be exact. "I will bring you one since I don't think you can finish two." I responded, "oh I can finish two." He ended up bringing four pieces and it cost four pounds. But I did finish all of them.



A photo of the Thali that I purchased at the Indian restaurant (whose name I don't know and which I couldn't find on a map after how lost that I got). There was a really good selection of food on the menu and I almost took a picture of that as well but I didn't want to get kicked out before I got served. It turns out that I was horrible underdressed to be seated at this restaurant from the word go. As I walked in the place was set up in a way that should have said, "this is too nice a restaurant." There was a long hallway leading to the seating desk and all of the tables were up a set of stairs. Hardly a casual cafe to match my attire. The slacks and sweater that I had pretty much worn everywhere in the U.K. were fine, I'm sure, but the backpack was horribly out of place. This is probably because the place ended up being as expensive as an entire night at the average hostel. Well maybe not in London but in general. Note due to the price how much rice and how little substance there is. Though it was absolutely incredible food that I would recommend if I knew where the heck it was (4/22/05 9:52 p.m.)


Coven Garden's tube stop was an absolute madhouse coming home. Even in New York City I've never seen lines to get into a subway stop on a normal Friday night. The lines were like after a Cubs game. And these were not unusual since printed right on the Piccadilly line[']s route map is a warning stating to use the stop on either side of Covent Garden. I think I feel too at home since on the way back a south Asian man screamed into the cab, "is this train going to Fulham?" I was one of the ones who screamed back, "no." But in the end I'm not a local so I should probably read the signs.

( more adventures back in the glowing city of London )

Money spent: 429 pounds ($858.00) - 45 on the hostel (but that's my final sleeping expense), 21 on dinner, 6 on the train pass, and 2 on batteries (hopefully that's the last time for that expense too)

Make Notes

22nd April, 2005. 5:17 pm. On the train from Salisbury, United Kingdom to London, United Kingdom

It looks like I tried to squeeze too many things into one day. I got to Salisbury about an hour after the last bus left for Stonehenge. In a way this is great news since it means I can use the 15 pounds toward seeing one last football match (if there are tickets left). Liverpool plays Crystal Palace tomorrow in London.



This is pretty much what I expected Salisbury to look like. Just some pastoral river flowing by all sorts of ornate, and mostly religious, buildings. As I was skimming the travel guides looking for places to go, besides Stonehenge, Salisbury didn't even cross my mind. I didn't know it at the time but it turned out that I had caught up with the Avon again and that this is a picture of that river that I have missed as it flowed through so many other cities and didn't take a photo as it passed by the train - or vice versa (4/22/05 4:20 p.m.)


I don't like Palace even slightly and I'd love to see them get relegated so in that way I can sit in the visitors stands as an interested Southampton supporter. At the same time I want to see Everton make it to Europe over Liverpool. So I would also feel comfortable rooting for Crystal Palace from the home stands. Wherever I get sat, I'll root for that side.



Much like in the United States, the United Kingdom was starting to run low on phone booths due to the rise of the cell phone to being everywhere. Though it has to be said that this is much more of a loss in that nation than on this side of the Atlantic since their phone booths are as much of a tourist attraction as a means of calling from point A to point B. In fact, this was the first and only time that I saw one of the famous red phone booths that used to be on so many postcards. I don't know if this one even worked or if it was just another display of history in Salisbury. I'm pretty sure by the next time I'm in England, the phone booth will be nothing except for a fun display in a hostel or pub (4/22/05 4:30 p.m.)


Of course either way, I'll probably be so pissed from watching the first 60 minutes of the Fulham/Chelsea match at a pub near whatever stadium Crystal Palace plays in that I won't much care.



The most famous landmark in Salisbury that is actually in Salisbury and not outside like Stonehenge is the Salisbury Cathedral. I got there on time to take a tour of the inside but chose not to. I did go around the courtyard (Close) to take some pictures of the various statues and the like. This is one of the most famous ones - the Walking Madonna Statue. White it looks relatively run down, this statue and so many others around it are relatively new. This statue made its debut in the Close in 1981 according to Lonely Planet (4/22/05 4:36 p.m.)


If I accomplish this I will have seen three of my four favorite sides play live (although rooting against two seem of them seems odd). The only one that will be missing is my number two, Newcastle United (who I'll be watching play Man U at a pub on Sunday). Counting Manchester City, my number five team, I'll have seen four out of five play and pulled against over half live.



One of the ornate city gates that run through the town. I didn't see this personally but apparently many of the streets near the medieval markets that ran from 1219 to 1361 are named for food products. It's probably a better thing that I didn't see this because by this point, I was incredibly hungry from again not eating until late in the afternoon. Though I guess with names like Fish Row and Poultry Cross, I wouldn't have gotten that much more hungry than I already was when I stumbled into the Burger King. It's pretty amazing that this was only the second time that I ate at a fast food place that existed in the United States as well since I had passed by them a lot of times. Though rumor has it that Pizza Huts in the United Kingdom are some of the worst food in the world which probably disuaded me (4/22/05 4:38 p.m.)


Salisbury was quite a surprising town. With its historic and touristy nature, I figured it would be old and stodgy. This ended up being the total opposite of what it was. In reality it was the youngest city I've seen. Straight off the train I was practically overrun by packs of unifromed school children. These gave way to hordes of university students who were either into punk or metal. This was especially the case at the Burger King I went to for dinner. They seem to have taken over the place and began to use it as a fortress.



An example of Salisbury in a nutshell in the shops that ran along the street leading to the train station. Two things that I got the impression of in the town was that they were very proud of being one of the main jumping off points for Stonehenge and that they really like all things hippie - like riding everywhere on bicycles. As far as Stonehenge went, the busses left right from the train station so I had every advantage of making it had I shown up before I went to Bristol and Bath. The funny thing is that the whole ticketing process is done from a tiny booth. Though I guess that many tourist attractions in the world are done the same way. It seems that a lot more trips to Stonehenge actually leave from London than leave from Salisbury (4/22/05 5:04 p.m.)


Speaking of the Burger King, again Europe is amazingly ahead of the states in terms of menu. This one had not only potato wedges but also mini donuts and what they called chili cheese tacos (which were actually little fried triangles of spicy cheese). Those need to catch on in the states.

( the hippies in Salisbury could probably use Bath )

Money spent: 355 pounds ($710.00) - 3 on the Burger King 99er Value Menu items (the menu is complete with an advertising campaign with U.S. icons like Routh 66 even though most of the items aren't available in America)

Make Notes

22nd April, 2005. 3:02 pm. On the train from Bath, United Kingdom to Salisbury, United Kingdom

And again another transfer in the middle of nowhere means this really is more than one train. Traveling near the coasts of the country is easy as far as transfers go but in the interior it's a lot more complex.



One thing that I never think about when I'm overseas - odd since I've been to Ukraine, the home of Chernobyl twice - is nucular catastrophe. It's the same at home, however, since we have a large power plant just south of the city that could melt down just as easily as any other in the industrialized world. So when I saw the three stark towers as I departed the train to transfer at Didcot Parkway, it brought me back to the reality that potential disaster is around the corner no matter where you go. Not that I try to think like that but I guess the isolated places that I travel in some countries are especially susceptable due to the n.i.m.b.y. syndrome. Didcot Parkway seemed like nobody's back yard (4/22/05 11:02 a.m.)


This is without even taking into account the fact that the trains here in the southwest are not as technically advanced as on the exterior. Instead of the doors whisking open automatically at a given stop at the push of a button, the directions are a bit more complex here. The directions are wait for the open safely button to illuminate, pull down the window, and turn the handle from the outside. The direction they forget is watch all the people on the platform jump back because they weren't expecing the door to swing out.



This is a photo of one quasi-punk rocker busker in Bath. I only say this due to the pretty meaningless hair color as he had no other distinguishing characteristics that he wanted to be considered a member of any subcultures. And if memory serves he was playing the life's blood of busking, classic rock, anyhow. It really doesn't matter, however, what people thought of him since there was no one else around. Despite being a Friday afternoon, the Bath park that the busker chose to make his money engine was absolutely deserted except for the one pensioner sitting in the background. The problem was partly that the park was extremely far from the sidewalk where the limited weekday foot traffic walked by. I almost always give to buskers, but it was just too far to walk (4/22/05 2:25 p.m.)


But the southwest is worth it if for no other reason than the weather is nicer than anywhere else I've been. Of course this may just be an illusion and a warm-up may be happening all over the country.



An example of the architecture in Bath. Nearly everything in the town seemed to either be authentic Roman ruins or recreations of Roman ruins. The central landmarks that dominates nearly all of what could be considered downtown are the Roman Baths. This is one of the most popular tourist attractions in the entirety of the United Kingdom according to most travel books. Though as I was walking by this sign, that fact barely registered since I didn't bother to read the travel books and had just sort of wandered into Bath since I figured that a lot of people wanted to visit it so it must be good. Typical tourist logic that got me into a bit of a time crunch even though I saw nearly nothing in the city (4/22/05 2:28 p.m.)


Bristol, much as I was told by multiple people [that it] wasn't much to look at (though it may have been better closer to the water). The British Empire and Commonwealth Museum wasn't much so I couldn't understand why it wasn't a free museum. The[re] were plaques all around with interesting quotes and the artefacts were interesting but I didn't really retain anything.



This girl was one of the best street performers that I had ever seen. Despite the fact that her podium looked like what it was (cardboard spray painted silver and I guess placed on top of a table for support) she had the silver mime thing down to a science. She stood so perfectly still that I was even sort of hayseeded into thinking she was just another statue. The only thing that even slightly gave it away that she was anything else were the crowds gathered around and that she would move if anyone got too close. It was such a good performance that my camera couldn't handle it and it broke. While I was snapping one of the photos of her, a motorized bad whirr happened and the shade on the digital viewfinder suddenly snapped shut. Flick the switch as I might it wouldn't reopen. Luckily the top viewfinder still worked - though it was at an odd angle that I had to compensate for the rest of the time (4/22/05 2:42 p.m.)


Bath was as beautiful as everyone said it would be but when I got there I didn't want to spend any more money so I didn't go inside the Roman Bath. The whole town is like a Roman theme park without being over the top. The best example was that the silver person in town was dressed as a Roman statue. She blended in so much to the landscape that I walked right by her the first time.



I was in far too much of a hurry to see Bath to really enjoy it. The whole city was like a giant street fair of the highest caliber. Realistically I should have at least grabbed lunch at one of the many food stands but for some reason I was stricken with a bout of shyness. Maybe it was the fact that when my camera broke, I was so frustrated that I just wanted to get on a train and try to fix it, but I totally lost any desire to see Bath all of a sudden. That and it seemed as if I wandered too much further afield off of the main strip that I would lose too much time. I cursed myself for getting such a late start and knew (and Lonely Planet confirmed) that I really needed to get on a train to Salisbury or I would miss the last excursion of the day to Stonehenge. Thankfully the train station in Bath is extremely close to everything and I was back there momentarily after snapping a quick picture of this food stand (4/22/05 2:43 p.m.)


There seem to be so many out of work actors here that it might as well be Chicago. But at least this performer was entertaining rather than annoying.

( I needed a spa but didn't take one )

Money spent: 352 points ($704.00) - 4 on an egg mayo for lunch, 7 on the museum in Bristol, 1 on buskers of all sorts

Make Notes

22nd April, 2005. 10:42 am. On the train from Oxford, United Kingdom to Bristol, United Kingdom

To call this a single train is kind of a lie. It's actually a two train ride. The first one is to Didcot Parkway before catching another train to Bristol. I just got off the phone with Laura to break the bad news that I'm heading directly to the southwest as opposed to going back to Bradford. "I understand," she said, "you're on a mission."



My first impression of Banbury was that it seemed to be some sort of dumping ground on the path of the train. Most train stations have deserted cars, cars being loaded and stored, and the like but Banbury seemed to have dozens. It had as many as Manchester seemed to have an that's a much, much larger city. Or maybe Banbury has a gravel factory and that's the major function of the town. Though my second impression on Banbury was how much Laura had undersold it. The way she explained it, it was some sort of little whistle-stop town in the midlands. When I saw how large the train station was, I knew that "going downtown" to wait for Laura if it came to that might be more difficult than I had planned. This made my next thought a huge hope that she picked up the phone when I called (4/21/05 7:18 p.m.)


And in a way I guess I am since I have to see the southwest today before ending up in London tonight. I logged into the internet at the hostel this morning for the first time since the night of the 20th (not counting at the train station in Manchester yesterday since the phone internet doesn't allow access to hostelworld.com) only to find all the hostels in Brighton booked. I guess I should have planned that one a little better since Brighton is a huge getaway destination.



The journey from Manchester to Banbury was an interesting one for one reason above all others - it passed through Birmingham. I had heard a lot about Birmingham being from around Detroit (mostly that they were very similar to each other). Passing through and briefly stopping at the train station in Birmingham, I want to say (even if it's not true) that Birmingham is actually worse. If the train hadn't been going at full speed as we wound through the heart of the city's "factory center" I would have gotten some pictures for comparison. Basically it looked like an atomic bomb had hit, wiping out all the people, shattering all the windows but left the skeletons of the buildings standing. Though to be fair, maybe the rest of the city is much different than the railway right-of-way. After all, I was mislead by the same thing in Banbury. This is the cider and crisps that I ate and drank in the pub while waiting for Laura to show up from her day of shopping (4/21/05 9:51 p.m.)


Since I'm booked at the Globetrotter's Inn with 24-hour check-in at least I have somewhere to stay tonight. That nearly wasn't the case last night as the Oxford Backpacker's doesn't allow check-ins after midnight. I didn't figure this would be a problem since Laura told me she wasn't mobile in an e-mail before I left.



I'm not entirely sure of the relationship between Laura and this guy and I'm assuming this is the father of her child but for all I know it's a gay best friend or something (though he didn't seem gay). This was the only spot of proof that I have that there is some sort of connection. I used the old "pretend to like each other" trick that I learned when I worked at a portrait studio after college and the pose that he made was like he was proposing to her. I have to say that if they were or are together, I sort of like the guy. If for no other reason than he's a very honest man. We discussed rugby and football mostly and he opened my eyes to something. In England, there are actually quite a lot of rugby fans who don't particularly care for soccer. He knew a bit about it, of course, since it's plastered all over the news but he lived in Chelsea when he lived in London and never even wanted to catch a match so that's saying something. This photo was taken almost immediately before I got on the train (4/21/05 11:39 p.m.)


When I actually got to Banbury this proved to be pretty far from the case. From the payphone in the station, she let me know that she was shopping with a friend in Northampton because she "expected me earlier or later." When I responded that it was 7:17 p.m. so just around dinnertime like I said I'd be there, she responded, "I'm shite with things like that."



Amazingly, despite the fact that I went to sleep seemingly after everyone else in my room - since the hostel locked up early no one went out - I was awake before all of them. I don't remember setting my alarm but I apparently did. Taking a quick shower, I wandered to an odd part of the hostel - a bar. Now a lot of hostels have built-in bars, of course, and some of them close relatively early (the one in York closed just after midnight) but what was odd was the bar was deserted when I got there at midnight the night before, obviously closed, and it was equally deserted in the morning. Apparently it was open at some point during the day since the ashtrays were used (then again, it could have just been a smoking area). Though I'm assuming there is a bar and they serve the local brew advertised on the ashtray. I just think it's awesome that Oxford has a local brew. All college towns really should (4/22/05 9:16 a.m.)


She ended up sending the father of her child who she described as a skinhead with gray hair to pick me up at the station and we went to the pub to wait. He's got a sister who lives in Tucson, Arizona so I spent the majority of the time trying to explain to him that all of America wasn't like the southwest. He told tales of giant spiders and guns in schools.



Despite the fact that I had gotten an early start, the hangover from the night before did begin to set in soon after I woke up. It was surprising that it took me over an hour to get ready since on my worst days traveling it usually doesn't take that long. I did use the internet briefly to try and see if there was anything in Brighton. But that couldn't have taken very long since I was getting a really bad vibe from the counter staff. For some reason sometimes I seem to rub hostel staff the wrong way. I think it's because I travel alone and never talk to anyone else in the hostel (well, rarely, it has been known to happen before) so they must think I'm some kind of axe murderer. Of course I have one strike against me since I'm a Yank so in Europe everyone eyes me suspiciously. Or this particular morning it may have just been because I hadn't yet taken a shower. Or it could just be that the hostel was one of the strictest that I've ever stayed at as this sign is just a part of the rules (4/22/05 10:13 a.m.)


But in total he was honest about everything including the reality of Banbury. Getting off the train it looks like a little farming town in the middle of nowhere. But a large sign in the pub we sat in told another story. About 30 people were part of the Banbury pub ban. I asked about and the majority of the people on it were banned for fighting. To boot I was told by Laura's friend that that the city has a huge drug problem.



Banbury is situation right in-between Stratford-Upon-Avon and Oxford. Laura had nothing but good things to say about Stratford nearly saying I was an uncultured American for not wanting to see the birthplace of Shakespeare. And I did feel a bit uncultured since I didn't have that much desire to see Stratford to be honest. I didn't have much desire to see Oxford either. As a city, Laura was pretty lukewarm about Oxford. And my brief time in the city which consisted of walking from the hostel to the train station in the light (how I did this the night before in the dark drunk I'll never know) I was pretty lukewarm on the city itself. It was definitely charming to be sure but there didn't seem to be much to it that wasn't somehow associated with the college. Though judging from this circular billboard there's an arts scene in the city due to the college so there have to be some sorts of venues there. Needless to say, I doubt I'll ever stop in Oxford though I may have to go to Stratford the next time I'm in the United Kingdom (4/22/05 10:21 a.m.)


Time flew by and once Laura got there we went to a pub closer to the train station. When 10:45 p.m. rolled around, we trudged up the stairs (except Laura who had tomato juice) only to find out the next train wasn't until 11:46 p.m. Laura called ahead to the hostel on my behalf and they said they'd wait up for me. So the three of us went back to talking and just Laura started to as[k] about the quarters I realized it was 11:48 p.m.



This is a picture of a bike rack near the train station in Oxford. I know this right on the edge of the Oxford campus (though which of the many colleges that make up the university, I'm not sure). I'm pretty sure that it can't be the only one but it seems to be a larger collection of college bikes than I have ever seen in my life. They literally go on for over a block in a sea of metal and wheels. I guess I did pass by them at the heart of the college day but some of the bikes looked like they never moved. I guess I wouldn't move my bike either once I got a parking space because they seemed pretty hard to find (4/22/05 10:22 a.m.)


Me and Laura's friend bounded up the stairs to see the train still there but it proved to be the 12:01 a.m. train (the last of the night). The entire ride down (on which I think I was the only person) I felt guilty. I stumbled to the hostel and rang the buzzer to no answer. I rang again and still no answer. Finally on the fourth time I was buzzed in and apologized immensely. By the time I got to my room I knew I wouldn't believe I woke up in a bed.



In all of the mainstream politicking that was going on with billboards all over the country, it took going to a college town before I really saw the grass roots. Though I know that in the United Kingdom the Greens, despite not being a major force, are a lot more mainstream a party than they are in the United States. Thogh I guess you could see a flag on a bike for the Green Party at most universities in the United States as well. Well at least the ones in major United States cities. I'm guessing that one as isolated as Oxford would be a bit more conservative (and I sort of thought Oxford was) - though I guess it's no different than an island of liberalism in most college towns (4/22/05 10:22 a.m.)


Had the hostel fallen through, I wouldn't have been homeless since Laura had booked me a room above the first pub we were drinking at, and of course she didn't inform me about this fact. Staying above a pub is another thing on my to-do list for next time.

( the other side of Banbury and Oxford )

Money spent: 340 pounds ($680.00) - 13 for the hostel (which was nearly 28 had I needed to pay for both parts of the double booking, the room above the pub was 15), 2 for the internet access (amazing all the drinks yesterday were paid for by Laura's friend who put too much meaning on the word guest though I didn't mind)

Make Notes

21st April, 2005. 5:49 pm. On the train from Manchester, United Kingdom to Banbury, United Kingdom

After a trip back to St. Peter's Square, I'm now about half way through a train ride to meet up with Laura. At least if I can figure out how to work a pay phone which is always my downfall. Part of me is saying to just get on to Oxford and do some laundry instead.



No matter where you look at Old Trafford, there's signage that's world famous. This is actually one of the least famous ones but it's one of the ones that has the name on it. One thing that is quickly apparent about Old Trafford is that the stadium is as, if not more, important than the team that plays in it. So this sign is sort of like a nametag for it. I still can't tell, even in this closeup what exactly the white piping at the top of the stadium is. I'm sure it's some sort of support structure so that there are no are no obstructed view seats. It did amaze me how old but how modern the stadium was in general. At least they didn't try to put modern seats inside an empty shell or something (4/21/05 1:47 p.m.)


I was pretty surprised at the condition of the Free Trade Hall. That was the reason I went to St. Peter's Square. I couldn't even figure out which building it was but it was either a hollow shell of a building with a dance club in front or a skeleton being turned into an office building called the Free Trade Exchange. By the description in the guidebook, I think it was the second. You'd think Manchester would do a better job of preserving the place where modern music was pretty much born.



There were very few off limit places on the tour. The tour went into the player's lounge, into the locker room, and into the press room. The one place that the tour didn't go was onto the pitch itself (one day I'll take a tour that actually lets the tourists set foot on the playing field). The tour did get close enough a number of times to take pictures of the "please keep off the pitch" signs closeup. This particular stop on the tour was to show the drainage system of the field. I love how many languages the sign is in to show the international nature of Manchester United's fanbase. But the one thing that's missing is having it in American English. What about the people in the United States who don't know that a "pitch" is a "field"? I guess they're probably not taking a tour of Old Trafford anyhow (4/21/05 2:05 p.m.)


Totally the opposite in terms of repair was the inside of Old Trafford. It was so clean that I couldn't believe we were inside of a stadium. Luckily the guide was a Liverpool fan so he didn't spend the entire time singing the praises of the Red Devils. How he could reconcile working for the arch-enemy I don't know. His jokes about other sides were quite funny (for example when he was pointing out the visitor's stands he referenced that Newcastle United was visiting on Sunday and "all five" of their fans would sit there).



Despite following the Premiership closely, one story that I hadn't heard that much about before I toured Old Trafford was the takeover of Manchester United by American tycoon Manchester United. In April of 2005, anti-Glazer paranoia hadn't quite reached its fever pitch as of yet. However, during the tour I still worried if someone would consider me to be a spy for the forces of Glazer being the token Yank on the tour (I was surprised there were no other Americans on the tour since I knew there were others in Manchester since I had met them) but no one even made the connection. Though maybe they should have since I didn't care if Glazer took over the club and ran it into the ground. I had heard people whining about the Glazer buyout forcing Manchester United into the relegation zone after he bankrupted them. The prospect of that sounded good. This is a photo of an anti-Glazer sign on the road running from Old Trafford to the bar district in the Old Trafford neighborhood. I do have to admit it's a nice looking sign (4/21/05 2:47 p.m.)


On the tour I was hooked onto by a missionary who nearly immediately asked, "are you a Jewish chap?" I was really offended and very uncomfortable about the whole experience. But other than that I felt comfortable in the stadium of the team I hate. Only at one point when we were touring the entrance tunnel and simulated a run-in was anyone separated out as a person who wasn't a Manchester United supported and "those who support sides other than Manchester United" were almost half the tour.



The basement of one of the buildings that might or might not have been the Free Trade Exchange at one point. I just love the fact that if it was, this alcohol is of the high end. I can't picture the early punks and post-punks who filed into the hall to see acts like the Sex Pistols and Joy Division (who were all, legend has it, at the first Sex Pistols show in Manchester) drinking Moet. but I guess times change and the members of said bands (though not necessarily the two mentioned) are probably drinking high-end alcohol at this point. They say that Manchester has gone through a lot of gentrification in recent years and while the outside of the building definitely shows that, I guess the inside of it does as well (4/21/05 4:05 p.m.)


Even so, it was disheartening that people from places as far flung as Mexico and Holland got into the fans of Manchester United line. Then again, if the fan base around the world wasn't so huge they probably wouldn't have tours every ten minutes and you'd have to book ahead like Manchester City.

( a tale of two Manchesters )

Money spent: 325 points ($650.00) - 4 pounds on a cheese and tomato sandwich, 1 on internet to get Laura's number.

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