As the title suggests, this was my first trip where I was taking off from one country and landing in another; my trips to Mexico always land in San Diego (or, less often, in LA with a connecting flight). This was also, by far, my longest flight. The actual time-in-flight was around 8 hours, but putting in the time in the airport, boarding, taxiing to the takeoff, it ended up being more like 9 1/2 to 10 hours per transatlantic flight. Boring statistics, which is an apt adjective for the flight itself, really. As with most flights, I took the opportunity to drink alcohol to keep myself from growing restless. Actually, I should say "all flights."
To go on with the flight theme, this was also the first time I experienced real jet lag. Mexico trips don't trip me up too much (oh the puns), since they're only 2 hours different. England, on the other hand, is 6 hours earlier than Central Standard Time, so I was insomniac far more than usual the entire trip. I was actually taking naps in the afternoon, which is completely unheard of stateside. Oddly, and fortunately, enough, I had the best sleep of the entire trip on our last night there.
I tell you this not to bore you to death, but to set the tone: when I am sleepy, I am at best a grouch, and at worst a plague upon those around me. This unsurprisingly interacted with my dysthymia to make it so that my brain didn't really appreciate a lot of things as much as it should, and react wholly forceful on those things that normally make my dysthymia or social anxiety act up (read: people).
London has approximately 8 million people in it, and we spent the vast majority of the week there, with two days spent, instead, in Cardiff, Wales. I normally hate public transit, but as it's the only way to get anywhere in London, that's the only way we got anywhere. Although, admittedly, the underground was a lot better than the buses. That's probably because London traffic is crazy-go-nuts regardless of whether you're a pedestrian, driver, passenger on a bus, or a biker. I couldn't comprehend biking in that city - I pretty much dismissed all of them as having a death wish. This is the kind of shit you get to deal with later in life when you grow up in a small town.
Anyway, I suppose that after getting over that system shock on a semi-regular basis, we did get to see some cool things. London itself is pretty, a lot more green than you would imagine a city that large being. Lots of interesting architecture, plenty of parks, and it seems everyone in the city has a green thumb, or tries to have one. It was impossible to find a yard that didn't have a plethora of flowers and flowering trees in it. Unfortunately, I don't think Miki (my wife) took many pictures of that sort of thing - pictures were mainly for the various museums and other places we set out to specifically visit.
Speaking of, I suppose I should give a list of those: The British Museum, The Charles Dickens Museum, British Science Museum, Natural History Museum (fun story there), Stonehenge, Cardiff Castle, Caerphilly Castle, plenty of pubs and shops.
One of the things I most wanted to do while there was to go to an English pub, which I ended up doing multiple times in multiple locations. Miki's aunt Emi and uncle Ali put us up for the week, and we went to a couple English pubs with them, but the first one I went to was on our first day, and I was worried I wouldn't get enough British-ness to tide me over, so after the British Museum, we stopped at the first pub just across the road, where I had bangers and mash for the first time. Definitely British, but, as I learned while there - Britain doesn't have bad food. That's quite an old stereotype. The aforementioned bangers and mash wasn't bad, but not spectacular either - pretty much what I expected for pub food. For those who don't know, bangers and mash is basically English sausages over mashed potatoes. The pub I went to also had onion chutney with them, and I didn't see it on other menus to compare.
The British Museum we visited just beforehand - I saw a lot of things I hadn't seen the like of before. There were a lot of old artifacts from many eras. I saw the Rosetta Stone, a metric fuckton of Egyptian and Medieval European artifacts, and plenty of, for lack of a better phrase, old shit I didn't know much about prior to visiting. It was all really interesting, and I don't recall having so much knowledge packed in at such a great rate since the last time I got high and thought I understood the universe. However, as I mentioned before, the people thing really got to me and the exhibits you'd expect a lot of people to be around (Rosetta Stone, Egyptian artifacts), there were at least two hundred extra people that my brain couldn't handle, to the point that when I got to aforementioned Rosetta Stone, when I should have been thinking "Holy shit, this is one of the greatest artifacts I've ever gotten to see in person," my brain was thinking more along the lines of, "Rock with things on it. People. Holy shit, people, FLEE!"
Later in the day, after recovering (read: drinking copious amounts of booze), we went to the Charles Dickens Museum, which was set in an old house that wasn't actually Charles Dickens' house at any point in time. It was more like a Victorian house tour with some of the old furniture he actually wrote some of his classics at, with plenty of information on the background of him and his family. Miki and I both agreed, upon seeing many of the furniture items, that we enjoy Victorian furniture. That's quite possibly the most boring sentence I have written, yet also one of the most truthful. Anyway, one of the goodies I picked up for myself was in the gift shop there - a Charles Dickens Action Figure with quill and removable top hat. I imagined immediately upon seeing it him having a duel with my friend Carey's Oscar Wilde action figure. Then I decided he would be best displayed riding atop my ceramic hand-painted unicorn lovingly named Bloodletter. I haven't done that yet, but when I do, I imagine I'll post a picture.
So, that was our Monday. Tuesday was Stonehenge day. I actually feel pretty bad about that day, because my dysthymia decided that day was "fuck you world" day, so I felt very much like a troglodyte. I've seen and read so much about Stonehenge (I think we all have) that I was expecting to be greeted with something more spectacular than what I was greeted with. For one, I just thought it would be larger than what it is. The actual stone circle is only about a couple hundred feet in diameter. At least, that's what I think, seeing it - I know they provided actual dimensions, but I don't remember them, nor was I in the right frame of mind to. I know, logically, that it was a pretty impressive engineering feat for the people of that age, but I couldn't help but think "fuck you" to everyone I saw, and was just generally in a sour mood. Miki was pretty sad about not getting to touch it at all; they have had the whole area cordoned off since 1978, I think (oh good I remember something). Good points of that trip: getting the hell out of London (less population density = happier Joes (my name's Joe, surprise!)), having nettle wine for the first time (like a white wine but not nearly as sweet).
Wednesday, we went to a reconstruction of The Globe Theatre and the Tate Museum (modern art). They kept the construction as close to the original as possible (obviously there were safety standards they had to adhere to, such as railings where there were none before), using wooden beams, wooden pegs to hold it in place, a thatch roof, and they kept the productions to the same sort of standards, aside from progressive thinking taking place between now and then; they don't always use male actors for every role now. We didn't get to see a performance, nor did we have the opportunity, as the season starts later this month. Our tour guide was excellent, which made things all the better. After that, we had lunch in a Greek restaurant (remember me saying the stereotype about British cuisine was outdated?) which was pretty awesome. I had grilled halloumi for the first time, which has now become my favorite cheese ever. Then we went to the Tate museum, which actually made me think that my paintings (most of which I haven't posted) are on-par or close to some of the things in there. I needed a nice boost of confidence at that time. There were also, on the flipside, whole rooms I dubbed "the pretentious room," or something in a similar light. I also know that I won't ever appreciate minimalism as it's meant to be.
Thursday, we went to Cardiff. Oh, Cardiff... I love you so much. It's a city that is so weird and cohesive at the same time; I don't know how best to put my appreciation for it. Old and modern structures sit next to each other like some strange dichotomy, yet they somehow blend perfectly. I remember looking at a very large modern art sculpture outside the Cardiff library and thinking there's a fucking Medieval castle less than a block away, and how is this even a thing? I think it was at this point I actually started relaxing, because there were WAY less people than London, and my brain stopped being in hyperdrive-holy-shit-too-many-people mode. Cardiff Castle was fucking amazing. That was far and away my favorite part of the trip. We had an excellent guide for that too; I'm finding that when you combine the following traits: humorous, obviously love your job, knowledgeable - you get a fantastic tour guide. If only we could all get such jobs suited to us. But I digress - it, as I said, was amazing for me. Clamoring around in a castle was just what I needed. Our hotel, by the way, was pretty damn good too. We booked it because one, it touted itself as the oldest hotel in Cardiff, and, two, was only slightly more expensive than a fucking Travelodge. Not a hard decision to make. I ended up chatting with the bartenders at the hotel bar until closing time - very nice people, and easily personable. That much more personable, I'd imagine, when I'm drunk and you're giving me drinks.
Friday, we were still in Cardiff, having spent the night over. We went to Caerphilly Castle, which was only about 10 mi. outside Cardiff. Whereas Cardiff Castle had people living in it up to the 1950's, Caerphilly was... well, bare. It definitely had all the makings of being a Medieval fort. As I learned from one of the few signs on-location, it was never taken by force during the Medieval era. Looking at it, I could see how that'd be possible; definitely looked and felt more like a military installation than having the amenities and luxury of what I'd seen in Cardiff Castle. It was still interesting, but I'd already found my first love in Cardiff. The siege weapons outside the castle were actually of more interest to me; the castle interior was pretty much what I expected, but Cardiff didn't have any siege weapons other than a trebuchet. Caerphilly had a trebuchet, a ballista, and two other siege weapons I'm a little too tired to recall right now. Two other types of catapults. The ballista still remains my favorite siege weapon, and yes, I realize just how nerdy that is to have a "favorite siege weapon." Later that night, we went to the pub with Emi and Ali, and everything was right with the world.
Saturday, we went to the British Science Museum. I was actually anticipating this trip far more than I thought I would, and was nonplussed, really, but not at the museum itself - it was more at the fact that I'd been anticipating it so much and was so roundly disappointed. I'm not meaning to sound like a braggart or anything similar when I say that I really didn't see anything impressive or anything I didn't know about previously. In all honesty, it seemed like a science museum for people who don't understand science. After that, we went to the Natural History Museum, where dysthymia reared its ugly head again and said, "Bitch, I fucking hate you," before we sat down to have lunch and, summarily, both of us were feeling the too-many-people thing, so we left before seeing anything.
Sunday was actually our anniversary, but with all the travel, we didn't have any time to do anything special; the previous week was meant to be a honeymoon of sorts. We spent the entire day traveling, and, for me, most of the time drunk because fuck international flights.
Bitter as I may have seemed at times, overall I did have a good time, and I'm certainly pleased I got to see the things that I did. But the next time we go to the UK, I definitely want to have Cardiff as our base of operations instead. Next on the agenda is trying to put that Charles Dickens riding Bloodletter. Thanks for reading, hope I haven't been too terribly boring.