Dam Good Time (Part 3)

Our last day in The Dam dawned and we packed our bags, said a tearful farewell to the roof terrace and made our final climb down the stairs of terror.  We walked the short distance to the Rijksmuseum, one of Amsterdam’s jewels.  Even if museums aren’t your ‘thing’ the building and gardens are worth a walk by.  And while you are walking around you just might stumble across some massive letters.  Lots of cities have slogans that they use for branding and marketing.  Some are successful like “I <3 NY” or “What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas”.  Others maybe not so successful.  Baltimore’s “The

City That Reads” is routinely edited to “The City That Breeds”.  Some cities aren’t even trying.  Lafayette, Oregon bigs itself up as “Third Oldest City in Oregon”…informative but dull.  Then there’s Cleveland, Ohio’s positive “Mistake on the Lake”.  Anyway, I could go on but I’ll stop there and try to get back to my point.  Amsterdam came up with the slogan “iamsterdam”.  A little bit word play, a little bit social inclusion; nicely done.  In an effort to promote the slogan, iamsterdam is spelled out in massive letters and we stumbled upon them over near the Rijksmuseum (not literally thankfully!).  Apparently these letters travel around the city so you might want to double check where they are before heading out but they are well worth a visit and a photo op.

After being a tourist, we headed back to the museum.  Rijksmuseum simply means national museum and it was founded in 1800.  It was relocated to Amsterdam, from The Hague, eight years later and the current building was purpose built in 1885.  The museum has a collection of over a million objects and almost 8,000 of them are on display.  Much of the artwork on display is from the Dutch Golden Age of painting by artists like Rembrandt and Vermeer.  Just like a visit to the Louvre wouldn’t be complete without a glimpse at the Mona Lisa, a visit to the Rijksmuseum wouldn’t be complete without a glimpse at Rembrandt’s The Night Watch.  Thankfully, unlike the crush of humanity that usually surrounds the tiny portrait of Mona Lisa, The Night Watch is massive so even if there is a crowd, you’ll see a good portion of it.  I can’t say I had strong feelings towards the painting before I arrived.  I knew generally what it looked like but to be honest, it was more about ticking a box and saying “saw it”.  But being able to stand inches away from it and see the brush strokes and his use of light (now I’m sounding all artsy!) definitely made me appreciate its beauty.  The other two massive paintings that flank The Night Watch are some of my favourite.  Militiamen of the Company of Captain Roelof Bicker and Lieutenant Jan Michielsz Blaeuw by Bartholomeus van der Helst (a mouthful isn’t it!) and The Meagre Company by Frans Hals and Pieter Codde are amazing in their detail.  Again you can stand close to the painting (but not TOO close) and see the details of the lace collars or fancy buttons.  I also loved the attitude the guys were giving off, working their angles and looking like they would be at home on a catwalk…all it needed was a few to pull the arm triangle pose and it could have been a group going off to a high school dance!  (I’m a born art critic aren’t I?  Iamsterdam!) 

After getting our fill of art, we headed to Centraal Station to drop off our bags.  

 On our canal trip the night before, we had floated by the Sea Palace, a pagoda style Chinese restaurant that is apparently the first floating restaurant in Europe.  If you like Chinese food, this place is amazing.  Just wandering in the main door is a feast for the eyes with the ornate decor and views onto the water.  And if they were a feast for the eyes, the food was just a feast for the stomach.  You can get a bit complacent about Chinese food when the majority of what you eat is take away but have some good dim sum and it makes you appreciate it all over again.  

 With our stomachs full, we headed off to our next museum.  This museum was a bit different than the illustrious Rijksmuseum we had just visited but as museum people it was our duty to traverse all museums; large or small, renowned or rude.  So off to the Sex Museum we went.  Perhaps we took a too academic approach to the ‘museum’ but it seemed rather conflicted as to whether it would be an informative museum that explored the history of and humanity’s relationship with sex or whether it was going to be a crude and jokey flesh parade.  Not to say one style is better than the other but it needed to commit to its mission statement!  (It’s official…this masters has ruined my mindless enjoyment of museums forever!)  While they had legitimate museum pieces like Ancient Greek pottery they also had an animatronic flasher.  A visit is worth it for a laugh but it really could do with a reimagining…now that sounds like an interesting work placement!

Keeping on the theme of the afternoon, we wandered over to the Red Light District.  I’m sure it’s much different at night, but to be honest you can hardly tell you are there.  For the most part it looks like any other Amsterdam street with cobblestones and canal houses.  Every now and then instead of a standard door, there was a glass door with a scantily clad woman waiting there.  Some stood and posed but others sat looking bored or ate their dinner, it was weird but I guess that’s the reality of legalised prostitution.  Just like office work, sometimes you have your slow days and some days you’ve gotta eat at your desk.

Getting back on the culture track, I popped in to see the Oude Kerk (old church) which is the oldest building in Amsterdam.  Opened in 1306, it started life as a Roman Catholic church and after the Reformation, changed to a Calvinist Dutch Reformed church.  It’s still an active church today but it is also used for non-religious purposes.  The day we were there it was acting as an art gallery with large art installations in the aisles.  The inside is pretty stark and empty, which is probably why they can host a wide range of events there.  The organ, which dates back to the 1650s, dominates the centre of the church and I bet that would be amazing to hear.

With our flight hour approaching, we boarded the train to Schnipple Airport and bid a fond farewell to The Dam.  It had been a whirlwind tour of The Venice of the North with amazing weather, lots of laughs and, of course, that stunning roof terrace!  Until next time  :)  

Dam Good Time (Part 2)

A new day dawned and it was time to see all that Amsterdam had to offer…well maybe not ALL that it had to offer!  My travel philosophy tends to be the ‘road less travelled’ but I also understand that some places are attractions for a reason and it’s a mix between the expected and unusual that makes for the best trip.  The first thing on our list was the Anne Frank House.  While it’s not going to be laugh-a-minute kind of location it’s one of those places that people really should visit.  I’m a big proponent of museums and heritage sites that make people think (gasp, I know).  The most practical thing to remember when going to a place like the Anne Frank House is that you aren’t going to be the only people with that on their itinerary.  They do sell a limited amount of tickets ahead of time but when we checked the whole month of April was already sold out- I tend to think that tour operators are the ones snatching them up.  So the only real option for people visiting on their own is to wait in line.  It’s a reality of tourist sites and something that you can’t avoid so the best way to deal with it is to just suck it up and put some comfy shoes on.  Thankfully if you go with a group you can take turns rehydrating and sitting (if someone wants a million euro idea, they should rent chairs to people in line). 

One of the nice things about Amsterdam is that it’s a very walkable city.  It’s about as flat as geographically possible except for the occasional hump of a bridge and provided you can avoid the bike messengers of death, it’s not too hard to navigate.  The city is basically a half circle, with canals creating lines between streets.  Kind of like half of a tree ring…or perhaps a quartered jaw breaker (I’m floundering for examples if you can’t tell).  Anyway, that’s an extremely convoluted way of saying it’s a pretty easy city to walk around.  It’s a little trickier to figure out the tram system.  But we gave it a whirl and caught the one outside of our flat and headed around the curve to the Anne Frank House.  Using public transport in a foreign land can sometimes be tricky but even though the map was a bit confusing, the practicalities of the tram were easier.  You just climb on at the back, buy a ticket (they are sold in chunks of time…1 hr, 24 hrs, stuff like that) and then just validate it on one of the machines.  I would just caution you to make sure that you hang on for dear life, especially if your tram looks like an older model.  There’s nothing like being hurled down the aisle when the tram driver buries the accelerator to announce ‘Hi, I’m not from around here!’.  At least on the Underground you can plant your feet at a good distance to be able to work your centre of gravity…not on a Dam tram!  (hehe)

We arrived to the area around Anne Frank about 30 minutes after the doors opened and the line was already wound around various buildings.  I am beyond useless in understanding distance; I mean I know what 500 miles is but if you told me something was 500 feet away I wouldn’t have much of a clue except that it wasn’t a massive distance.  Keeping that in mind, and thanks in part to Google Maps, I can say that the line was about 300 metres when we first entered.  Yeah, that means absolutely nothing to me.  Almost 1,000 feet?  Not helpful either.  That’s a bit less than a ¼ of a mile which I actually somewhat understand.  And for any distance nerds out there, it’s 1.5 furlongs.  The more useful measurement for the line was that it was a four hour wait; what a way to spend the day!  But if you are lucky enough to have a buddy with you there are things to see in the immediate vicinity. 

Homomonument

For the majority of any line-waiting, you will be in the shadow of the Westerkerk.  The Westerkerk was built between 1620 and 1631 and is the biggest Protestant church in Amsterdam.  While the majority of the building is fairly non-descript, the tower, or Westertoren, is beautiful.  It's the city's highest church tower and is decorated with colourful crowns and orbs.  The famous artist Rembrandt is buried in the church and Dutch Princess Beatrix was married there in 1966.  Stretching from the Keizersgracht canal to the square in front of the Westerkerk is the Homomonument.  The monument was dedicated in 1987 to all those who were persecuted for being homosexual during and since World War II.  To be honest, the monument is really easy to miss.  I only noticed it because when I went over to take a picture of tulips, I saw a bundle of flowers placed on a triangle that jutted out into the canal.  The monument is made up of three triangles of pink granite that form a larger triangle.  The two other triangles are raised plinths and a popular place for the queuing masses to rest their feet.  It wasn't until I actually Googled it that I realised the benches were part of the monument!  

Four hours later, we were finally at the entrance.  The first thing to say about the house is that it is small!  This might seem like a dumb thing to point out but when you consider that you and four hours’ worth of people will be cramming into the same space, it’s important to be warned that you most

model of the house

likely won’t be able to have a visit where you can wander and reflect.  Instead it kind of seems like an assembly line of tourists climbing the stairs and following the human snake around the perimeters of the walls.   The second thing is that, all in all, there isn’t a lot to actually see.  While some museums are object focused, museums like the Anne Frank House are atmosphere focused.  Feeling the tight spaces, climbing the steep stairs and seeing the faded wallpaper is what visitors remember.  But I think it’s actually because of the normal and mundane surroundings that the greatest impact is felt.  In Anne’s room she has pictures of celebrities taped on to her wall, even a picture of the young Queen Elizabeth and Princess Margaret.  Though it’s over 60 years old and celebrities have changed, it’s the room of any other normal teenage girl, this one just happens to be trying to survive a horrible event from history.  Empathy is a powerful thing and it seems impossible to not walk the same floors as the Franks, van Pels and others and not feel compassion for their plight and the plight of millions more.

Prinsengracht canal

After our long queue and tour of the museum, we were in need of some food.  Turns out that one of the things the Dutch are famous for are their pancakes.  I have to be honest, I would have never guessed.  But as you walk closer and closer towards the city centre, pancake places do start to crop up.  And I’m not talking about an IHOP pancake.  Pancakes on this side of the pond are a much thinner production, basically crepes.  They also tend to be the size of a pizza and like pizza, you can have a variety of toppings.  We stopped off at Sara’s Pancakehouse, the holder of some kind of Pancakehouse award in 2013 according to their website.  While the customer service wasn’t glowing; there was a bit of a standoff between our waitress and someone who came in to ask a question…(oh why didn’t I learn Dutch?!), the food was delicious.  Our table was a tour around the world: Canadian pancake, Indian pancake and Norwegian pancake.  I can only vouch for the Indian one but it certainly had me thinking, 'why haven't I put tikka masala on my pancakes before?!'  After having our fill of flattened dough, we continued on in a casual meander, taking in the royal palace and Dam Square.  The palace kind of lacks the grandeur that you expect of a royal address.  It could be any other large building bordering a square.  This is probably because it’s not a royal residence, like Buckingham Palace is, so there aren’t guards with big hats playing statue.  There is a royal collection that you can tour and it is used for the occasional official event.  Dam Square, on the other hand, seems like THE place to hang out.  Thanks to the amazing weather, people lounged on the benches and along the steps of the war memorial.  I’m not saying that spending 48 hours in a city will make you an expert but I do have to say I was nicely impressed with Amsterdam.  As with any city, there are going to be the areas that you don’t want to visit but, for the most part, if you didn’t actively search out the seedier things that Amsterdam has on offer, you weren’t inundated with them.  Well…except for the rude postcards…those were a bit in your face.  Lovely shot of the canal (twirl), cheeky cartoon about pot (twirl)…is that, oh dear god, my eyes!  Heads up, don’t let your kids entertain themselves at the postcard rack.  You can’t unsee some things!

From the Dam Square we headed back towards our neighbourhood.  As mentioned before, Amsterdam is a pretty good city for walking.  Not only is it flat (bonus!) but most of the buildings are beautiful.  I love the thin canal houses that seem crammed together.  In some places they even lean into each other.  I’m not sure how stable the land is in Amsterdam…if it’s like Venice that is sinking, and if I was a homeowner I probably wouldn’t find the leaning endearing but I’m not, so keep leaning!  We stopped at the Bloemenmarkt.  Take a guess at what that is…you can almost figure it out by the name.  Yup it’s the flower market, makes sense doesn’t it?  I will admit that I was expecting stall after stall of tulips in full bloom.  It was moreso stall after stall of tulip bulbs.  But having said that, it’s still an enjoyable meander and if you don’t want to risk travelling with bulbs as a souvenir, you can stock up on wooden tulips.  Even better, there are multiple opportunities to put on a pair of hilariously large wooden clogs.  Yeah it’s touristy but you CAN’T pass up that photo op!     

After traversing the city, we headed back to our flat in the clouds, with a quick stop to pick up some wine, and retired to our terrace (if you’ve got it, use it!) to soak up the Dutch sun and cheers to a wonderful day.  As the sun started to set, we headed back out and trammed our way to the Centraal Station (thankfully this tram was not from two centuries ago and the driver was a lot kinder on the breaking and accelerating).  In Amsterdam you can’t avoid the canals…well you can avoid them in the sense of not falling into them but not in the ‘they are literally around every corner’ sense.  So why not fully embrace the waterway and take an evening cruise.  It definitely provides a different view of the city and everyone has been nice enough to leave their fairy lights on!  There are a variety of canal trips you can take (even a pancake one…they love their pancakes!) but we couldn’t pass up the offer of the Cocktail Canal Cruise…whenever possible, I plan my outings based on alliterations!  As we took our seats we regaled each other with our previous boating experience.  It was only then that one of my travel buddies admitted she was a full blown landlubber!  Well, this could go pear shaped really quickly!  The funny thing was, when we first talked about going to Amsterdam we had discussed taking the ferry (which conveniently leaves from Newcastle) and in that discussion it never came up that we had an aquatic first timer on our hands.  Thank goodness we didn’t opt for the ferry because the North Sea can be notoriously treacherous to the stomachs of ferry passengers.  If you’re new to water then a canal boat is probably the best place to start.

Seven Bridges

The cruise was lovely, not surprisingly.  I always think that if the city has a water travel option, to go for it!  Now that I think about it, I’ve done quite a few urban water-based activities.  Allow me to location-drop: illumination cruise along the Seine, boat tour on the Thames, paddleboat rides along the Mississippi in the Quad Cities and New Orleans, canal trip in north Wales, boat tour around Manhattan, swamp tours in Florida and Louisiana, gondola ride at the Venetian in Las Vegas (I know, that was a stretch).  Turns out water tours are kind of my thing…who knew.  But honestly, the reason they are so nice is that you really get a chance to sit back and just soak in the area.  You aren’t trying to navigate around other people or, gods forbid, cyclists; it’s all about looking.  It doesn’t take long on an Amsterdam cruise to realise that the locals aren’t too concerned with peeping toms.  Most of the canal houses have massive windows and especially at night, they are lit up like beacons.  The boat narrator summed it up like so, the only people who close the curtains in Amsterdam are those with something to hide.  It’s a good sentiment but you can’t help feeling like a bit of a voyeur as you spy people watching television or eating dinner.  The highlight of the cruise had to be the Seven Bridges.  It’s a fleeting look but if you are able to catch it, it’s a lovely site.  Basically, from one of the main canals you look down one of the offshoots and you are able to see seven arched bridges in a perfect line.  Everywhere else on the canal systems, there are turns and curves that don’t enable a similar view.  We had planned on stopping there while out walking but having seen it from water level, I’m not sure you’d be able to see it as nicely and it really helps that at night each arch has lights on it.  

The cruise was a success and the newest member of the seafarer club thoroughly enjoyed the aquatic experience.  We trammed it back home and once again found ourselves relaxing on the roof terrace....another good day.    

Dam Good Time (Part 1)

They say that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.  Seems a bit harsh…I think it’s more likely that the road to hell A) isn’t paved at all or B) is paved with bad intentions.  But what do I know...I’m not a platitudes writer.  Regardless of the paving situation, good intentions usually don’t end up with a lot of follow through…especially from me!  So the intentions I had for my month long Easter break were pretty much doomed from the start. 

It usually started off with, ‘ooh, I could go down to Kent…but I’d either have a really long train trip or have to fly and hire a car and that is WAY too much effort.’  There was no sense in going north cause winter was still kicking around up there.  I even attempted to go more reasonable and think ‘I’ll just take some day trips’.  But again that requires planning and I was decidedly not in the mood for planning.  Thankfully, though I live the majority of my life as a hermit, I have been able to make some friends while in Newcastle and they wanted to get away with minimal effort and expense just like me.  So with a few clicks of the mouse, we were headed off to Amsterdam for a few days.

One of the nice things about Newcastle is that it has a good variety of flights out of it.  That’s not to say that’s the ONLY thing Newcastle has going for it but everyone can use a change of view every now and then.  And there’s nothing like going to a foreign country with new friends to find out if they’ll be friends for life or not.  Thankfully, my track record is pretty solid and I've only ever had one casualty.  A literal casualty you may ask?  I'll never tell!  It also always helps to be on the same page with what everyone wants to see and since we all were in the same masters programme, it was agreed that the short trip would be heavy on museums…and you know how crazy a weekend museum bender can be! 

Amsterdam wasn’t necessarily on my ‘oh my gosh I HAVE to be there NOW’ list but given that I had only been there once and that was as a small child it hardly counted (though technically when tallying up nations it TOTALLY counted!).  But it would be nice to see Amsterdam as an adult, even if we planned on only seeing the tip of the Amsterdam iceberg.  We arrived at the Newcastle Airport, I’m surprised it doesn’t have a more jazzy name…Sting International Airport, Ant & Dec International Airport, they are really missing a trick there.  The nice thing about European airports is that there are a variety of economy carriers so you can get to foreign lands for domestic prices (at least from the American mind set).  The down side with these connections to foreign lands is that certain said foreign lands like to go on strike a lot and that can play havoc with your flight.  I’m not naming names but it does rhyme with ‘prance’…could be anywhere!  So once we got through security, we found we had a delay.  We killed that hour with cocktails…might as well start the trip off right.  

Flying over Cullercoats and Tynemouth

 

Soon we were on our way across the North Sea.  I got the coveted window seat (sa-weet!) and had a lovely view of the coastal towns as we headed east.  The flight was about an hour and uneventful.  As we came over land again the Dutch sky was a bit murkier than the Northumbrian sky we had left, which is a decidedly rare feat.  As I looked out the window, we flew over field after field of tightly lined crops.  It would have been amazing if they had been tulips in full bloom but I guess you can’t have everything.  Amongst the fields were massive warehouses and sure they may have housed a variety of things, my first thought was perhaps they had to do with the other ‘crop’ that Amsterdam is famous for. 

Hazy Dutch sky

We arrived at Schiphol Airport, which given that I have no clue how to pronounce Dutch words became Schnipple Airport (a bawdy sense of humour is essential when travelling to Amsterdam), and headed for a taxi to take us to our flat.  A while ago, a friend had suggested I check out Airbnb (thanks, Frannie!) and when I first moved to Newcastle I spent a couple days in an Airbnb house before I moved into my place.  Overall I think it’s a wonderful site.  Obviously, like anything you will have the occasional crap places but having used it multiple times and having had a majority of success stories, I am happy to recommend it to everyone.  If you’re the kind of person that MUST be in the centre of the tourist area then it won’t be for you but what you do get is a more authentic experience of the city you’re in and sometimes you get an amazing place to stay…more on that later.  

Having gotten into what the Europeans would call a ‘people carrier’ (passenger van) we headed off.  While I’m a fan of public transportation, it’s always interesting to see how different nations drive.  The drive along the motorway was like any other but once we got into the outskirts of the city, it became a different beast.  The taxi made no distinction between driving on the road and driving on the tram rail lines.  While I would have thought a tram had the right of way, the taxi weaved in and out of the rail lines with barely a glancing look.  As holder of the address, I was in the front of the taxi and while I hung on to the door handle, I tried not to gasp with fear.  No, instead the gasp came from the back seat and practically gave our taxi driver a heart attack…that’s all we need!  As the poor guy recovered, it turned out that the gasp was not due to the reckless abandon of our driver but the breaking news that the Director of the British Museum was stepping down.  Oh, could this group be MORE museum studies!  I think our taxi driver was more than happy to be rid of us and we were dropped off in the neighbourhood of Helmersbuurt.

Neverending Stairway

The neighbourhood sat to the southwest of the city centre and was a rather typical city neighbourhood, not that I’m an expert on Amsterdam neighbourhoods.  Cafes and shops lined the lower floors of massive and ornate buildings.  That’s the beauty of booking a place through Airbnb; you get to see a more authentic side of a city.  There were no cheesy tourist shops or international chain restaurants, it was a neighbourhood of local places for local people and for the next couple of days, we would be locals too.  We met our host and started the long climb to our top floor flat.  I think it’s safe to say that there can’t be too many out of shape Amsterdamians…Amsterdamers…Amsterdamnations?  (Turns out the correct term is Amsterdammers, learn something new every day.)  Not only was it four flights up but those were the steepest and narrowest steps I have ever experienced!  After catching our collective breaths, which is always a fun first impression to make, we soon lost our breath again when we took in the flat.  It was open plan with massive windows that looked down onto the street below and gave us a hint of the skyline above.  But the real breath-stealing moment came when we once again took to the stairs (dear god, no) and found ourselves on our very own roof terrace.  This had been the selling point for us when we booked the place but no matter how many times you look at a picture, it’s not the same as the real thing.  This was worth every bloody step we had to climb!  Even better was that we had brought a mini-heat wave with us so we couldn’t have better weather for some roof chilling. 

Dam nice view!

After settling in, we decided to head out for dinner.  Back down to the street, we came face to face with the horror that is Amsterdam bike culture.  That might sound a bit harsh and I guess if I was a bike person I’d love the bike culture but as a pedestrian it was harrowing to say the least.  You know how you see those scenes in movies or travel shows of a far flung city where there seems to be no rhyme or reason to the flow of traffic or the traffic etiquette is simply ‘kill or be killed’?  Well that’s what it felt like as we tried to avoid being bike bait.  Trying to survive the walk from our flat to the restaurant made the taxi ride seem like a dream.  I’m sure we were quite the sight for the locals as we practically clung to each other as we dashed across the bike lanes hoping we survived.  But survive we did…at least for now!

Spring forward to blogging

Wipe, wipe (dusting off of cobwebs)

Welcome back!  The much-ignored blog page is finally seeing the light of day after a good six months.  Sun and shine has arrived back in Newcastle and thawed my frozen blogging ability (hopefully they don't refreeze as soon as I post this!).  Winter was full of cold days, crushing assignments and general hibernation vibes.  But with spring here, and maybe even some summer in the future, I feel the need to dust off this poor neglected blog and start typing!

Just to warm you up...here's an adorable picture of Lake District lambs soaking up the sun :)

 

Field Trip and Bus Trip

One of the fringe benefits of taking on a programme like Heritage Practices is that apparently we get to go on field trips!  Definitely one of the big things lacking from higher education.  Anyway, our first foray into the wonderful world of heritage was with a visit to Beamish, The Living Museum of the North.  Living museums are like recreated history.  Think of it like a Renaissance festival without the turkey legs and weirdos in leather.  Since Beamish was first thought up in the late 1960s, it has been collecting anything having to do with the North East's past.  This includes furniture, buildings, tram cars, old buses, old farming equipment, vintage signs, an old coal mine and a carousel.  It's pretty much like an episode of American Pickers.  But unlike those hoarders (and I say that lovingly), they actually have done something with all the stuff they've collected.  They've recreated towns and villages to give people today a glimpse of what life was like in the 1820s, 1900s and 1940s.


One of their leading principles was they wanted to have three generations to visit and be able to have the older generation recognize certain things and then be able to tell the younger generations what it was like.  This also means that the museum itself is always growing.  They are currently working on a 1950s section.  Since as a museum they strive for immersion, they have made the museum more interactive by having volunteers 'acting' out what it was like in the particular time periods.  If you've seen this kind of thing before, you know that it can either be good and informative or bad and cheesy.  Thankfully, Beamish swayed heavily to good and informative.  They are there to tell you what life was like but they also realize it's 2014 and because of that are able to put things into context if need be.  Another great thing about Beamish is that you get to participate in the past.  We were told in our discussion that during a part on the children evacuees during the London Blitz in World War II, instead of just standing there and telling them about it, they would take children volunteers and have them 'evacuated' and write letters home.  In more simpler ways, as you wander around the towns and villages you can pop in at the pub for an actual pint, buy some 1940s sweets and even take a quick tour of a coal mine.  To get around the 300 plus acres, all you have to do is hop aboard one of the many trams they have gathered up from around the area.


While there, we were also treated to a behind-the-scenes look at the collection that Beamish manages.  To say that it's a massive collection is a bit of an understatement.  There are multiple warehouses full of movable shelving that stores all of the things they have collected over the years.  We were able to get a glimpse at items that the public hasn't seen; for example the Scottish claymore sword that was oddly found within the wall of a local house.  We also learned some important practical lessons, like that museums can kill you.  Apparently people never think of all the dangers in working in museums, I certainly hadn't.  But think about a museum particularly something like Beamish where most of their collection has been donated.  Bottles of medicine or toiletries from the past would be something they would be interested in but who knows what's really in those bottles, let alone what time may have done to the chemicals inside.  We were told one of the number one rules is "Never Put On a WWI/WWII Gas Mask".  Why?  Because A) the filter is often all asbestos and B) if it actually was used then the poison could still be in the filter.  The same rule applies to WWI helmets (the cushion part was usually made out of asbestos).  I certainly hope they have all these rules written done somewhere cause I'll be pretty annoyed if I finally get a job in a sector I like and then die on the first day!        

             

With the long week of introduction to the programme over, I had a weekend to enjoy before the real work would begin on Monday.  Since we had wonderful weather, I felt I had to kick my bum in gear and go out and see something; I need something to write about after all!  I decided to head down to Durham.  It's about an hour south on the bus for £5 or a 15 minute train trip for £20.  Since I had all the time in the world, I took the bus.  It wasn't until we were pulling away, that I realized I didn't have my camera.  CRAP!  Well that certainly isn't a good start to the day now is it?  At least I had my Kindle with me and I could take pictures, though no guarantee they would be decent.  You know how there are days when you wake up and think, "man, it's gonna be a good day!" and then you end up spilling your coffee or stubbing your toe and that one act pretty much changes the entire tone for the day?  That was what forgetting my camera did for me that day.  We got into Durham and I just started following everyone else, figuring I'd stumble upon a sign eventually.  I did and I headed over the River Wear on a quaint cobblestoned bridge.  Looking up from the river, the castle formed an imposing spine along the ridge.


The story of Durham is an interesting one.  St. Cuthbert was a big name in the North East in the 6th century.  When he died, long story short, his followers were on the search for a new location to set up a permanent location.  The story goes that while lugging his coffin around the North East, it got stuck.  His followers decided to pray about it and one of them had a vision to go to a place called Dun Holm.  They didn't have a clue where Dun Holm was, but they at least knew it was probably a hilly island (given that dun is Anglo-Saxon for hill and holm is Scandinavian for island).  So picking up Cuthbert's coffin, they headed out.  Turns out they weren't the only ones that didn't know where Dun Holm was; everyone they asked didn't have a clue either.  Until one day, they overheard a pair of milkmaids (this is beginning to sound like a bad joke) talking about a missing cow and how the cow was last seen at Dunholm.  You can see that cow and milkmaid in a wall carving at Durham Cathedral.  The area had actually been inhabited for over two thousand years, most notably by the Celtic tribe the Brigantes, by the time St. Cuthbert's followers arrived, but they were instrumental in forming the actual city of Durham.


Durham Cathedral was built in 1093 to act as a monastery for the Benedictine monks.  During the Middle Ages, Durham was one of the major pilgrimage sites for Christians.  With wealth coming in from the pilgrims, it also became an important economic centre and the prince-bishops of Durham were the authority in the area.  Of course, with most of the other religious houses in England, when Henry VIII came to power, their power came to an end.  Though the cathedral lost countless relics and riches, it still faired a lot better than some of the other abbeys and cathedrals during that time.  In 1986, Durham Cathedral and the surrounding castle (which was built by William the Conqueror) was named to the UNESCO list as a World Heritage Site.  It met three of the ten criteria for UNESCO.  Those being: "to be an outstanding example of a type of building, architectural or technological ensemble or landscape which illustrates a significant stage in human history..., to exhibit an important interchange of human values over a span of time or within a cultural area of the world..., and to be directly or tangibly associated with events of living traditions with ideas or with beliefs..."

The Cathedral is definitely an awe inspiring building, making you feel small and rather insignificant (which it has been suggested was an intended reaction).  But personally speaking, I have an issue with places that don't let you take pictures.  It's one thing if the artwork is sensitive and flashes are prohibited but I get a bit bent out of shape when they state that 'so as not to annoy other visitors, you can't take pictures' while at the same time, quickly mentioning they have postcards for sale; it seems a bit disingenuous.  I'm honestly not sure why me taking pictures will ruin someone's day any more then having to hear the loud door open and close every five seconds.  Again, it's a bit of a pet peeve and frankly a bit of a moot point since I didn't have my bloody camera anyway!  The castle itself was a bit of a let down because you really can't go and explore it.  (This is a perfect example of when you should have done a little more research on what you can and can't see.)  It's now being used as university buildings for the University of Durham.  I mean, kudos to the students for getting the choice to bunk in a thousand year old castle, but again it doesn't help me any!  And to add the final icing on the cake, it was moving in day for said students so the thin cobbled streets of the city were teeming with bright eyed 18 year olds and nervous parents.  Oh well, you quickly find in travelling that not every destination is going to be better than the last.  And often times it's places that you think "I need to go there" that end up not delivering much.              
       
 Til next time...

Fortnight in Newcastle

It's hard to believe that it's been two weeks since I arrived in Newcastle.  I wasn't really sure what to expect from the city.  I tried really hard not to hold Geordie Shore against them (just think Jersey Shore with a slightly less annoying accent).  My first weekend here I was staying in the neighbourhood of South Gosforth.  It was nice and quiet (minus the metro trains rolling by), with cobblestoned roads and houses with character.  I had found the place on Airbnb.com which I had been dying to try.  It's probably not for everyone, given that most of the time you're literally crashing in someone's spare room, but for me it was a great introduction to the city.  After a quick lesson on the transportation available, I headed off to see some of my new home.

One of the great things about Newcastle is that it has a Metro system.  Apparently, not many British cities can claim that...so I've been told.  I hopped on the Metro and headed for Gateshead.  Gateshead is on the southern side of the River Tyne (Newcastle being on the north).  I wandered around the shopping area and,

http://www.world-guides.com/europe/england/tyne-and-wear/newcastle/newcastle_maps.html

not surprisingly, ended up wandering through the Tesco Extra.  It's usually my first task of landing in a British city; find the nearest Tesco.  I'm not sure why I've developed such strong feelings for Tesco.  I'm sure the other grocery stores available are fine (except Asda...they're owned by Walmart) but for me, it's always Tesco.  I know it's from my Swansea days when that was the closest grocery store and I would spend way too much time aimlessly going up and down the aisles.  The great thing about British grocery stores is they have EVERYTHING.  American stores are going that way, with Super Walmarts (shudder) and Target Greatlands, but there's just something about the British stores.  It certainly helps that they are filled with yummy British food, like prawn cocktail crisps and so many different versions of Cadburys.  The only thing you have to adjust for is how the British grocery shop.  When they do their shopping they aren't in a rush.  That doesn't sound like a big thing but when you are used to zooming in and out it can be a bit surprising.  You'll inevitably be stuck behind a pensioner out for a ramble and you'll get frustrated cause that kind of thing just doesn't fly in the US.  It just takes some time to readjust the speed that you live by when you move to the UK.  Thankfully, I like to think I got those kind of kinks out of my system when I lived in Swansea so I knew there was no rhyme or reason in grocery shops.  Anyway, enough about Tesco!

After window shopping, I headed over to the bus terminal and decided to go see the Angel of the North.  The Angel of the North is a massive piece of art that looks out over the landscape south of Gateshead.  The hilltop where the Angel sits, as well as the surrounding area, were part of the vast mining network in the North East for hundreds of years.  In the late 1930s, a pit head bath was built on the hill to allow the miners to shower off the muck and dust from a long days work before heading home.  Obviously, like most of the mining operations in Great Britain, the one at Angel of the North closed in the 1970s.  The hill is situated not far from the A1 motorway and the Angel has been greeting people to the North East since 1998.  It's thought to be seen by over 90,000 people a day.  I remember reading about the installation of the Angel and thinking 'man, I have to see that.'  And, at least for me, it didn't disappoint.  At 65 feet high, it's the same height as four double decker buses stacked on top of each other.  It's wingspan is 175 feet, which is similar to the wingspan of a jumbo jet.  It's burnt copper colour stands out against the sky, whether it's a bright blue or an overcast grey.  If you wonder why it was decided that an angel be the thing to greet people, the sculptor, Antony Gormley, said "The only response I can give is that no-one has ever seen one and we need to keep imagining them.  The angel has three functions- firstly a historic one to remind us that below this site coal miners worked in the dark for two hundred years, secondly to grasp hold of the future, expressing out training from the industrial to the information age, and lastly to be a focus for our hopes and fears."


With a successful day under my belt, I spent the next day out at the coast.  Thanks to Newcastle's Metro (I love that thing more and more) it's easy to get out to the coast.  Within 30 minutes, I was in the town of Tynemouth.  It's name doesn't take much deciphering; it's at the mouth of the Tyne River, where it flows into the North Sea.  I hadn't even left the Metro station before I knew Tynemouth was a great find.  Every weekend they have a market set up in the station.  Tables upon tables are selling local veg and cheese, Newcastle-themed souvenirs and your basic bric-a-brac.  Wandering past the tables, I had to remind myself that I hadn't even moved into my flat yet and certainly couldn't be loading up on trinkets.  So I left the bits and bobs behind and headed into the town.  Five minutes later, I was on the sea front.  Ah, take in that good salty sea air.  It certainly was brisk that day!  The main attraction on the sea front, besides the sea, is the Tynemouth Priory and Castle.  Tynemouth is the perfect example of why I love this country so much.  At this one location you can explore over eight centuries of history (and that doesn't even include the history that didn't leave remains).  The main attraction is the 13th century castle and priory, which was built on top of the original priory which was built in the 700s, and boasts an intact chapel and stained glass windows.  The priory is surrounded by a graveyard dating back to the late 18th century.  One of the things I loved most about these ruins (and I've seen a fair share of ruins) is that the priory and castle, and even the gravestones were made from sandstone and over the centuries it has worn from the persistent winds off the sea.  It just makes the skeletons of these great buildings all that more intriguing.  But if the castle and priory isn't enough history for you, it also acted as barracks during the 1800s and World War I and played a roll in the coastal defence of England during World War II.  You can still walk through the bunkers to see where the ammunition was stored and even stand next to the refurbished gun.

With the weekend over, it was time to move into my flat.  I don't think I could have asked for a more centrally located place.  Sitting right on the edge of campus, the city centre (with it's shopping and restaurants) is right across the street.  The building I'm in was formerly a hotel, built in 1902.  Thankfully it's been recently refurbished with state of the art key-less entry and WiFi.  The first week was for international students and they offered a bunch of different sessions you could take (personal finance, library services, living in Newcastle, etc.).  I have to say, these sessions definitely helped in adjusting to life here.  There was even a brief lesson on how to understand Geordie, which is the local dialect and typically ranks as one of the hardest accents to understand.  When I wasn't in a session, I was out exploring the city centre.  As with most British cities, there is a focal point.  While there are usually local corner shops in the farther out neighbourhoods, the city centre is where all the shopping and a lot of the entertainment is going to be.  Newcastle, like most cities, has a pedestrian city centre.  Most of the shops are in converted Victorian buildings so it adds a bit of class to the shopping excursions.  With it's Victorian vibe, it's not surprising that there is a shopping arcade.  Think of it as a precursor to the indoor shopping mall, but classier.  Not far from the Central Arcade is the Grey Monument.  It was built in honour of Charles, Earl Grey, who probably had a full life and did a lot of important stuff according to the dedication on the monument but will be forever known as, that "guy who has a tea named after him."  I guess there are worse things to be remembered for.  

While most of my wandering have been around the city centre, I decided to liven it up the following weekend and go find the Castle Keep and Black Gate.  Sounds pretty imposing, doesn't it?  I didn't really know where I was going.  I refuse to walk around with a map in my hand; I'm a local (kind of) after all.  Thankfully every now and then, there were directional signs so soon I came upon something that looked old and gate like.  The Black Gate was built between 1247 and 1250 and became the main entrance to the castle at Newcastle.  As with most British sites, the physical building we can see now was built upon older foundations.  In about the 2nd century, the Romans had a fort on this high ground that looked over the Tyne River below.  You can't really explore much of the Black Gate but it is scheduled to be opened to the public in 2015 and they will be able to explore the floors above.  I'll have to make sure to check that out!  Just through the Black Gate and under the railway bridge (which obviously is a much later structure) is the Castle Keep.  The first castle on the site was built by William the Conqueror's son in 1080.  The castle was named New Castle Upon Tyne, seems like a good name for a town doesn't it?  The building we see now, was built by Henry II around 1178.  Being surrounded by more modern (and I use that loosely since many of the buildings are probably at least a hundred years hold; it's all relative) buildings, the keep almost looks like it come be a somewhat modern building that was supposed to look like a castle.  Even if you have to use a little more imagination to get the sense of what this castle area would have been like, it still became the foundation for the city that surrounds it now.  

 I think it's safe to say that I'lve probably only scratched the surface of what Newcastle and the surrounding area has to offer but so far it's been a lively and welcoming city.  I look forward to exploring more of it and feeling at home here over the coming year.  Til next time!

         

New Adventures

If you've been to this page before, you may notice that it's recently been revamped.  You'll also notice that I'm not very good with regular postings but that is all about to change (at least I hope it does).  I'm preparing to set off for a new adventure.

I'm not the kind of person who seeks out change but when I finally do get around to it, I don't mess around.  So this past year I was feeling introspective and thought "what am I doing with my life?"  I had an office job that while it was dependable it wasn't exactly fulfilling or inspiring.  Looking down the road all I could see was years and years of dull office work.  I have a degree in history and that certainly isn't useful outside of the education field so I was either looking at a life of office work or I had to change something up.  That change would be going back to school.  Like I said, I don't do things in half measures so when I decided to go back to school I thought, let's go to school in England.

http://10mosttoday.com/10-largest-islands-in-the-world/

My goal was something in the heritage sector.  Don't worry, I'm about to explain what that means.  Basically, heritage management is the managing and running of historical sites; houses, battlefields, castles, and so on.  I don't know why this didn't occur to me earlier; it combines my love of history and my interest in educating people about history but saves me from having to teach (I should probably say now, kudos to all teachers cause it's a tough and often thankless job but some people just aren't cut out to teach in front of a class...and that people is me).

But why England you may ask?  Well first of all, they have great programs (or programmes) over there and they do heritage so well.  There were a few universities in the US that offered it but it actually turned out that going abroad was cheaper, even with the pitiful conversation rate.  Secondly, Great Britain was where my love of history and historical sites began so it seems kind of fitting to immerse myself in that again.  Thirdly, I was just being selfish.  Great Britain is a home to me.  It's where I feel the happiest and most content and frankly I just wanted to guarantee myself a couple of years of happiness.  I'll never be accused of having a sunny personality and I guarantee I'll have my fair share of crap days over there but when I'm there it just feels right; it's hard to explain.

So with certain decisions made, I started on the long journey of applying for graduate programs in England.  It was a long and hard nine months.  I don't want to sound hyperbolic but it's fitting that it was a nine month process cause it was probably as frustrating as a pregnancy!  I think I'll save the ins and outs of the application journey for the next post but I'll give you a spoiler, it turns out with a happy ending!

Until next time :)