Travel Log #9

July 5, 2009

I am in a place where the moors stretch out on either side, from horizon to horizon, like in the Brontes and The Secret Garden. I am only one town over from each of those. It is a beautiful country, and the lights of humanity illuminate the darkened moors at night, like sprinkled stars. There is still some semblance of light left in the sky at half-an-hour to midnight.

Two days ago, I arrived at the train station in Leeds and my bag at the head of the car was still there. Ruth was just on the other side of the ticket barrier waving to me. I crossed over and we stuffed my luggage in the back of her car and hid it under the trunk flap. I impressed myself by remembering right away to get on the right for the passenger side but decided that it would be best not to concentrate on the road.

Our first stop was a grocery store, where we got lunch and got food that I would like. Later, I finally got to cook (something I haven't done since before finals in Worcester). I made chicken cutlets, pan fried with a mixture of herbs in olive oil; English broccoli with baby corn, sauteed; and then, sauteed potatoes with fresh garlic. Later on, we made rice pudding, which we warmed up in the oven. Ruth ate fish cakes, as she doesn't like chicken or garlic.

Afterwards, I checked my email and called home, then went to bed, because we had to get up early to drive to Liverpool in the morning to visit with Rachel, Ruth's daughter. I was really excited about Liverpool, for the port, and the ships, and the Beatles!

We set out for the motorway around 9:30 in the morning. The road passes through a town called Bradford, which Ruth explained to me is one of the most racists cities in the country, with about 90% of the population being extreme racists. A few years ago there were race riots and a lot of the city was burned down. Oftentimes arrests are made on terrorist training cells operating within the city and the tension is even higher now since the 2005 London Bombings. We are two days away from the four-year anniversary (July 7, 2005).

It is strange here because back in the 1970s, the immigrant population wanted nothing more than to assimilate, wasn't allowed to. The people resolved to send their children to traditional schools and those children are the adults of today who want anything but assimilation. Of course, this is Bradford, and the sentiment on the subject varies among individuals as well as on the region of the country.

It's all quite appropriate, I gather, that I am once again reading a story of vampires and am (once again) nightmaring nightly. Dracula is the only fictional character I have ever encountered who has captured my imagination so thoroughly that the mere notion of him grips me in fear. The East meets the West and in the clash between cultures, we either grow and are enriched, or we become the undead. The problem is, we exist in the state--I exist in this state--and I cannot seem to decide which one I am or whether there is even a difference. Still, I don't know why this image of the vampire terrifies me so much, because armies have more terrifying weapons than fangs and coffins and I am most desensitized. But then again, vampires are not commonplace headlines these days.

Anyhow, we finally got to Liverpool and on the way, I'd gotten used to driving on the left and looking right. On the motorway, we passed the moors and a lot of farms, including one that refused to give up its property rights, which caused the government to have to build the motorway around it. The cows even had a tunnel built for them to get from one part to the other of the farm without having to worry about the cars. For the rest of the ride, I admired the scenery.

We got to Rachel's house and discovered that she and her boyfriend, Ian, hadn't eaten yet, so we all went out to Costa's coffee with three hours to kill while they ate breakfast and Ruth and I had coffee and a little cake. Before we went out, I had to ask to borrow a belt because I've lost about two inches or so in the last couple of weeks and nothing fits me anymore, including the clothes I just bought two weeks ago. Not that I'm complaining.

After breakfast/noon snack, the four of us set out for downtown Liverpool where Rachel had decided we were going to take one of those cheesy tours for five-year-olds called the "Yellow Duck Marine". Essentially, it is one of the hybrid tank truck/boats built in the 1940s by the Americans for the D-Day landings. Ours was re-discovered in France some years after the war, being used as a chicken coop. Liverpool bought it, painted it yellow, and now it is the highly entertaining Yellow Duck Marine tourist trap.


We got a very nice tour of Liverpool and learned about its history as part of the slave trade, saw the largest stained glass in Europe (supposedly...every city says the same thing, so I don't know who to believe) at the Church of Christ the King, complete with a crown of thorns built into the architecture. We saw the Chinese arch that was put up in the year 2000 at the entrance to Liverpool's China Town, Stephenson's Rocket, the first passenger Railway train here, and the Anglican Cathedral where Rachel had her university graduation. Also, the place where John Lennon and his first wife Cynthia got married. And more churches. There are lots of churches. Almost as many as there are in Georgia.

Two little girls sat in front of me, Rebecca and Meaghan, aged 8 and 6, respectively. Meaghan had a big pink butterfly painted across her face.

"Are you a tourist?" she asked me and Rebecca smiled.
"I guess so," I said. "But everyone I'm with lives here."
"Me too," Meaghan said.
"So do I!" Rebecca said.
Along the trip they asked me lots of questions about what we were seeing around us and I answered as best as I could.
"I'm scared!" Meaghan told me, turning around in her seat.
"Of what? The boat?"
She nodded.
"Nothing to be scared of. Have you not been on a boat before?"
"No. Never."
"It's fun. You'll see."
In the end, she loved it. "I want to go again!"

There were swans in the river and we got to feed them. The tour guide sprayed us with a supersoaker once we got in the water because she "knew" we hadn't gotten wet from the splash. Not true! I ducked below the seat to avoid it. All of the sudden, through, she was screaming because the guy sitting behind her (with a baby, no less, on his lap--there were a ton of young dads with babies on there with us) had grabbed the gun and sprayed her full-on in the face, etc. She didn't take very well to that--but serves her right! Little taste of her own medicine.

"I'm going out tonight!" she yelled. "My hair, my god! You've ruined my hair!"
She patted it vigorously.

After the incident, we made our way back onto shore and were made to sing "We all live in a yellow DUCK marine, yellow DUCK marine, yellow DUCK marine" as we headed back onto land. Oy. We went directly into the gift shop, which was filled with rubber duckies. I wanted a quacking one that you can squish that say "Quack!" when you mush it. I picked up a little baby one but it didn't say anything! It just blows air at you. Rachel and Ian and Ruth were looking, too.

"Look, it's a flashing duck!" Ruth said, holding one that lit up, all pretty rainbow colors. It went "quack!" but the "quack" was electronic and the duck was bigger than mine. "Does yours go 'quack'?" they asked me.
I frowned and held it up, squished it and said: "No, it only blows."
So I had to decide between the little duck that blows or the bigger duck that flashes and goes 'Quack; but with an (illegitimate, in my opinion) electronic quack. In the end, I chose the little duck that blows. Rebecca walked in then and I said, 'Go check out the rubber duckies" and waved good-bye. Damn, I'm inappropriate.

This morning I did the only thing possible for the whole duck situation: took a bubble bath and let all the ducks swim around like it was a pond. It was loads of fun. Seriously. Showers are boring but I've been consigned to them (with absolutely no baths) for over a decade!

We left the shop and went for coffee, tea, and hot chocolate at a place called "Baby Cream". I kept little ducky out to play on the table. Then, we perused the shops. Of course, it started raining, so we went back to Ian an Rachel's house. I took my sedative again (the summer reading book) and fell asleep on the couch. Earlier, we'd discovered a flat tire on Ruth's car, so she and Ian went to take care of that so we could drive home later. I woke up soon and had a really good conversation with Rachel.

Then, everyone came back and we went to dinner at this really good place called "Maranto's" where I had fried Brie for an appetizer with salad on the side, poached salmon for the main coarse, and apple pie a la mode for dessert. We were there for about three hours. It was great. Back at Rachel's, I played with her rabbits but for once, there were no incidents with me and rabbits. I also discovered Sudoku toilet paper, which is quite entertaining, with the slogan "Concentration NOT Constipation!" on the box...no, I don't think people actually use this product. But that would be interesting, wouldn't it???

Ruth and I didn't leave until half past ten, which means we didn't get home until nearly midnight. We stayed up until 2:3o playing dress-up. I slept in later than ever today--past 11:00, took the ducky bath, and then hung out outside with Ruth and had tea with Therem. Then, my great uncle Michael came over for lunch. We had more tea outside.

After Michael left, Ruth and I went for a very nice hike out on the moors, where the sky seems lower than anywhere because we're in it. It's beautiful up there. We ran into some sheep, a nice biker named Steve, I picked cotton grass and heather, and we rested at an old stone circle that historians and archaeologists can't decide about: is it a real henge or a folly? Either way it's ancient and I'm sure many a pagan ritual has occurred there. At the end of the hike we went for coffee again and I had some insanely amazing French eclair type dessert (!!). Over that, I learned some family history and now, I am back home.

I'll probably have more nightmares of Dracula tonight. We shall see. In the morning I transfer over to my other cousins: Ros, Ruth's sister and her family.