do you recognize this man in the grey sweatshirt and glasses?
it may have been the guinness, but we were fairly certain that travel writer rick steves was sitting next to us in ireland's oldest pub, the brazen head.
ok, looking at the photos on his website, it seems unlikely that it was him, but it's still a good story.
***
my sister and her husband are in ireland this week for their friends' wedding and invited me to join them for a couple days. we walked all around dublin and saw many of the famous tourist spots.
ha'penny bridge
st stephen's green
christ church cathedral
the liffey
and naturally, the brazen head for beef and guinness stew and live music.
***
so there we were, sitting in a corner in the brazen head enjoying our meal. there was a young couple at the table next to us, and on the other side of their table was a man sitting with an older couple. the man leaned over and asked the young couple if they were newlyweds.
"yes, we're on our honeymoon."
"oh good, let me regale you with obscure anecdotes about traveling around europe that only a professional could know..."
at this point, the resemblance to rick steves was almost impossible to ignore. wearing sensible travel clothes? check. knows a lot about traveling and has plenty of stories and tips? check. sounds like rick steves? check.
we started daring each other to go ask him, but there was a little problem. none of us particularly like his travel guides or shows. i have never managed to sit through an entire rick steves show because i find him kinda dull. so what would happen if he actually *were* rick steves? i couldn't in good conscience say, "i love your shows man!" and it would be rude to say, "shrug, i'm not such a big fan. why should i watch you travel all over europe when i can do it myself?"
but then the newlyweds left and the musicians needed our table, so we moved over next to the possible celeb. at which point, i must have had enough beer because i blurted out,
"hey, we have been over there debating for the past hour whether you are or are not rick steves. so are you?"
he laughed and said no, but he gets that a lot. wink wink.
then the older man whispered to me, "yeah, he is..." wink wink.
the conversation didn't go much further because the band started playing, but he was a good sport and let my sister take a picture of him with her husband and me. my photo (top of this entry) was taken on the sly and doesn't do much to prove or disprove the case. i'll have to wait for her to email me the better pic to make a more accurate assessment.
wink wink.
Friday 30 June 2006
Wednesday 21 June 2006
strawberries in oxford
ask any bryn mawr college student, past or present, what her favorite tradition is and she is likely to say may day. best part of may day? strawberries and cream for breakfast.
carrying on the tradition, the bryn mawr club of the uk goes strawberry picking every summer in oxford. i have missed it for the past two years, which is why i was even more excited about it this year.
i began my day with a cup of tea (of course!) in my bryn mawr mug.
i met the other mawrters at the oxford train station, and we had a nice (if painfully slowww) pub lunch on a country lane.
then we walked down the lane and picked punnets of deliciously ripe strawberries.
thanks again to rgs, who was clever enough to remember to bring along some cream for on-the-spot tasting!
***
back at home, i made insanely good crepes to go with the strawberries. no big surprise that we didn't have the patience to wait and take pictures before devouring them. you'll just have to take my word for it.
carrying on the tradition, the bryn mawr club of the uk goes strawberry picking every summer in oxford. i have missed it for the past two years, which is why i was even more excited about it this year.
i began my day with a cup of tea (of course!) in my bryn mawr mug.
i met the other mawrters at the oxford train station, and we had a nice (if painfully slowww) pub lunch on a country lane.
then we walked down the lane and picked punnets of deliciously ripe strawberries.
thanks again to rgs, who was clever enough to remember to bring along some cream for on-the-spot tasting!
***
back at home, i made insanely good crepes to go with the strawberries. no big surprise that we didn't have the patience to wait and take pictures before devouring them. you'll just have to take my word for it.
close to home
i realized that i haven't posted any pictures of our 'hood, so here is a selected tour of colliers wood.
much of the area is nice and suburban like this:
but there are a few aspects that make me go hmmm...
we are still trying to figure out why the royal naval association has a club on a landlocked street:
this is one of the most popular local hangouts but we're still not entirely sure why. it has something to do with the "wacky warehouse" indoor jungle gym for kids... connected to the "kiss me hardy" restaurant.
the river wandle wanders through the town. i was surprised the first time i discovered that people fish in it, especially next to the main road.
but the most tragic waste of space must be this blight of colliers wood: the tower next to the tube station, and its adjoining parking lot.
this hideous monstrosity needs a serious upgrade. call in the demolition team!
much of the area is nice and suburban like this:
but there are a few aspects that make me go hmmm...
we are still trying to figure out why the royal naval association has a club on a landlocked street:
this is one of the most popular local hangouts but we're still not entirely sure why. it has something to do with the "wacky warehouse" indoor jungle gym for kids... connected to the "kiss me hardy" restaurant.
the river wandle wanders through the town. i was surprised the first time i discovered that people fish in it, especially next to the main road.
but the most tragic waste of space must be this blight of colliers wood: the tower next to the tube station, and its adjoining parking lot.
this hideous monstrosity needs a serious upgrade. call in the demolition team!
Labels:
exploring
Tuesday 13 June 2006
j'adore paris
My former flatmate and friend, F (listed as "France" in the pix from my hen night), offered us her empty flat in Paris for the weekend. Well, we couldn't very well let it sit unoccupied, could we?!
For all that S has traveled to far and exotic places around the world, he had never been to Paris before. Ooh la la! So many reasons to go...
The weather was hot - just hot enough to deserve two ice cream stops per day, but not unbearable enough to stop us from an ambitious amount of sightseeing. It was 86ºF/30ºC on Saturday, and hit 90ºF/32ºC on Sunday. La chaleur!
F has a flat in the 11ème arrondissement, just down the street from Père Lachaise Cemetery. She lives on the 5th floor overlooking a lovely Amelie-esque courtyard.
The downside is that there is no lift...
Saturday
We started our Parisian adventure at the much-maligned Centre Georges Pompidou. I don't care what the critics say; it has always been one of my favorite buildings in Paris.
A group of Mongolian musicians performing throatsinging. Reminded me of my neighbor last year who was learning how to do it.
Admittedly, the acid-green water in the fountain outside was a bit worrying...
Next, we walked around Notre-Dame.
From there, to L'Île St-Louis, home of Berthillon ice cream. Think of the best, most authentic Italian gelato you have ever had, and times that by ten. You'll be close to imagining just how good Berthillon is - and I have had some pretty amazing gelato in Italy, so that's saying something. I had red currant and coconut; S had grapefruit and rhubarb. I'm not sure I needed to know that they have a website!
Then, over to the Left Bank and along Boulevard St Germain.
Apparently, S isn't thrilled that I paste his photo all over my blog, so here is a nice shot of the back of his head.
Push the button!
Red light...
Green light!
Signs for sale
Even the lampposts are happy to be in Paris
The Louvre Pyramids - perhaps not the best place to play hide and seek
This tiny bird fought so hard to steal a few crumbs from the pigeons that I had to admire its persistence.
Another in a series of shadow pictures. S suggested that I have an exhibition of them someday. Hmmm.
Our first view of the Tour Eiffel, peeking out from behind the Musée d'Orsay.
A family tradition: there are pictures of my sister and me at various ages with the rhino outside the Musée d'Orsay and now S joins our esteemed ranks.
What happened to the man who fell in the river? He went inSeine!
(Not my joke, by the way...)
It was about 4:30 by the time we started walking from Place de la Concorde, up the Champs-Élysées toward L'Arc de Triomphe and the temperature was at its hottest of the day. Thank goodness for the cool(er) shade of the trees.
As we approached L'Arc de Triomphe, a parade of veterans spontaneously appeared with a marching band - how perfect to hear La Marseillaise at that moment. It did, however, make for a monumental jam of human and vehicular traffic.
S, depite being British, hates queueing, so we wandered around to t'other side where we discovered that for a mere 8 euro each, we could walk up 284 steps to the top of the Arc. Did I mention how I had nearly fainted from heatstroke a few minutes before? We made it to the top, however, where we were rewarded with beautiful views and an unexpectedly delicious breeze.
Even managed a decent pic on my mobile.
The Eiffel Tower...nearly there!
We ended our day by returning to the Left Bank for dinner at a café with a view of Notre-Dame. Sufficiently knackered, we dragged ourselves back up to F's flat and promptly collapsed.
Sunday
F's neighborhood came to life in a typically Parisian way.
Locals at the café
Boules - or is it pétanque?
Flea market wares
We spent the morning wandering around Montmartre, starting at Sacré-Coeur. It is hard not to think of the movies Amelie and Moulin Rouge and half expect to run into Audrey Tautou or Ewan McGregor.
While the Hollywood celebs kept their distance, we did catch close-ups of some insanely intrepid mountain bikers racing their way up and down the streets - and stairs - of Montmartre in 90 degree heat.
We took the Funiculaire instead.
Art market
Church of St-Jean-l'Évangéliste across from Abbesses Metro station
Moulin Rouge
Our last tourist destination was Père Lachaise. Somehow we managed to miss all its famous residents (including Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde). Was it a fitting way to say au revoir to Paris for now?
Four generations of Groleaux have made marble tombstones just outside the cemetery.
It seemed somehow appropriate that a street leading to the cemetery would be called "Street of Repose"
Perhaps someone can explain this sign to me. Why would you need a temporary plot?
Time to leave - sniff! But we had to endure one final queue for the Eurostar, so long that it doubled back on itself.
Merci beaucoup, F, for the use of your flat!
See more pix on S's "quick and dirty" website by clicking here
For all that S has traveled to far and exotic places around the world, he had never been to Paris before. Ooh la la! So many reasons to go...
The weather was hot - just hot enough to deserve two ice cream stops per day, but not unbearable enough to stop us from an ambitious amount of sightseeing. It was 86ºF/30ºC on Saturday, and hit 90ºF/32ºC on Sunday. La chaleur!
F has a flat in the 11ème arrondissement, just down the street from Père Lachaise Cemetery. She lives on the 5th floor overlooking a lovely Amelie-esque courtyard.
The downside is that there is no lift...
Saturday
We started our Parisian adventure at the much-maligned Centre Georges Pompidou. I don't care what the critics say; it has always been one of my favorite buildings in Paris.
A group of Mongolian musicians performing throatsinging. Reminded me of my neighbor last year who was learning how to do it.
Admittedly, the acid-green water in the fountain outside was a bit worrying...
Next, we walked around Notre-Dame.
From there, to L'Île St-Louis, home of Berthillon ice cream. Think of the best, most authentic Italian gelato you have ever had, and times that by ten. You'll be close to imagining just how good Berthillon is - and I have had some pretty amazing gelato in Italy, so that's saying something. I had red currant and coconut; S had grapefruit and rhubarb. I'm not sure I needed to know that they have a website!
Then, over to the Left Bank and along Boulevard St Germain.
Apparently, S isn't thrilled that I paste his photo all over my blog, so here is a nice shot of the back of his head.
Push the button!
Red light...
Green light!
Signs for sale
Even the lampposts are happy to be in Paris
The Louvre Pyramids - perhaps not the best place to play hide and seek
This tiny bird fought so hard to steal a few crumbs from the pigeons that I had to admire its persistence.
Another in a series of shadow pictures. S suggested that I have an exhibition of them someday. Hmmm.
Our first view of the Tour Eiffel, peeking out from behind the Musée d'Orsay.
A family tradition: there are pictures of my sister and me at various ages with the rhino outside the Musée d'Orsay and now S joins our esteemed ranks.
What happened to the man who fell in the river? He went inSeine!
(Not my joke, by the way...)
It was about 4:30 by the time we started walking from Place de la Concorde, up the Champs-Élysées toward L'Arc de Triomphe and the temperature was at its hottest of the day. Thank goodness for the cool(er) shade of the trees.
As we approached L'Arc de Triomphe, a parade of veterans spontaneously appeared with a marching band - how perfect to hear La Marseillaise at that moment. It did, however, make for a monumental jam of human and vehicular traffic.
S, depite being British, hates queueing, so we wandered around to t'other side where we discovered that for a mere 8 euro each, we could walk up 284 steps to the top of the Arc. Did I mention how I had nearly fainted from heatstroke a few minutes before? We made it to the top, however, where we were rewarded with beautiful views and an unexpectedly delicious breeze.
Even managed a decent pic on my mobile.
The Eiffel Tower...nearly there!
We ended our day by returning to the Left Bank for dinner at a café with a view of Notre-Dame. Sufficiently knackered, we dragged ourselves back up to F's flat and promptly collapsed.
Sunday
F's neighborhood came to life in a typically Parisian way.
Locals at the café
Boules - or is it pétanque?
Flea market wares
We spent the morning wandering around Montmartre, starting at Sacré-Coeur. It is hard not to think of the movies Amelie and Moulin Rouge and half expect to run into Audrey Tautou or Ewan McGregor.
While the Hollywood celebs kept their distance, we did catch close-ups of some insanely intrepid mountain bikers racing their way up and down the streets - and stairs - of Montmartre in 90 degree heat.
We took the Funiculaire instead.
Art market
Church of St-Jean-l'Évangéliste across from Abbesses Metro station
Moulin Rouge
Our last tourist destination was Père Lachaise. Somehow we managed to miss all its famous residents (including Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde). Was it a fitting way to say au revoir to Paris for now?
Four generations of Groleaux have made marble tombstones just outside the cemetery.
It seemed somehow appropriate that a street leading to the cemetery would be called "Street of Repose"
Perhaps someone can explain this sign to me. Why would you need a temporary plot?
Time to leave - sniff! But we had to endure one final queue for the Eurostar, so long that it doubled back on itself.
Merci beaucoup, F, for the use of your flat!
See more pix on S's "quick and dirty" website by clicking here
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