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 :)

Where To Be in 2014

As the new year arrives, there are always lists being compiled for what to look forward in the coming year.  Fashion trends; the next big foodie obsession; the 'in' colors for the year.  So of course it's no surprise that there's a list of 52 Places to Go in 2014.

There's pretty much something for everyone.  There's Nepal and Dar es Saalam, Tanzania for those truly adventurous (and wealthy) travelers.  Tahoe, CA and Andermatt, Switzerland for the snow lovers.  Belize and the Seychelles for the sun worshipers.  And the list goes on and on.  But don't be intimidated by the list, there are plenty of options is you aren't able to leave the country.  There are places from the North Coast of California and downtown Los Angeles to St. Petersburg, Florida.  Nashville, Tennessee and Indianapolis, Indiana also made the list.  You can't get more accessible than those two places.
 

 Obviously I can only speak to the places I have been so let's go down the list.

#15- Nashville, Tennessee

It's not just a place for country music fans.  It might be thought of as Music City now but before then it was labeled, The Athens of the South.  But why, you ask...I'll tell you.  It first got the nickname in the mid-1800s because the city was quickly becoming a center higher education, with colleges and universities cropping up(Belmont University and Vanderbilt to name a few).  It also had the first public school system south of the Mason-Dixon line.  With all this going for it, Nashville became the place to be.  Hence, it was like the Athens of yester year.  And the cement their claim as The Athens of the South, in 1897, they built a replica of the original Parthenon.  It was built for Tennessee's Centennial Exposition in what is now called Centennial Park.  Not only is it a fun attraction to visit, but it certainly saves on the plane ticket to Greece.  Inside, you can see replicas of the marble friezes which would have lined the top of the outer part of the temple.  You are also able to see the cult statue to the goddess Athena, the patroness of Athens.  The original statue was made of ivory and gold and with materials like that, it didn't last long.  The Athena Parthenos, the full name of the statue, is almost 42 feet tall and was based on the many descriptions of the original statue.  It's definitely a different point of view of a city that is pretty much exclusively thought of as a center of music.

If you like your history a little more recent, why not visit the remains of Fort Negley, just south of downtown Nashville.  While you would assume that it was the Confederates who built the fort to defend the city of Nashville, it was actually the Union army who built it after they had won possession of Nashville early in 1862.  It was built on top of St. Cloud Hill, which overlooked the city and the river, by a force made up of runaway slaves, free Blacks and other laborers.  When it was completed, in December of 1862, it was the largest inland stone fortification that had been built during the war.  Two years later, the Confederate army attempted to recapture Nashville but Fort Negley aided the Union army in retaining the city.  




The other highlight of Nashville for me was the Opryland Hotel.  You might think, "Really?  You want me to visit a hotel?"  It's not so much visiting a hotel but more like a downtown that happens to be
enclosed under a glass roof and has plenty of rooms nearby.  There are plenty of restaurants, bars and shops to pause at as you take in the space.  The best way to see Opryland is to just wander around.  There are waterfalls you can walk around, gardens with paths meandering through them and even a riverboat tour that takes you along a canal inside the hotel.  I was there during New Years and it was lit up with millions of lights hanging from the cavernous ceilings.  More than likely, if you came to Nashville to hear some music there will something playing at the Opryland.  If you want to mix some Nashville music and dinner with the ambiance of an old timey riverboat, you can book a ticket on the General Jackson Showboat.


Of course many of the visitors to Nashville are country music fans and they want to experience some of that while down there.  There's the Ryman Auditorium, which started its life as the Union Gospel Tabernacle, where the famed Grand Ole Opry show was performed for over 30 years.  the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum charts the history of the quintessential American music and honors some of its most famous performers.  If you visit downtown Nashville at night you are likely to take in a performance from anyone, from an unknown up-and-comer to a surprise appearance from a well known singer.


So regardless of whether or not you're a country music fan, Nashville has lot to offer and is well worth a visit.


(I've decided to make this a series of posts since I can really ramble on!)

New Year, New Travels

December 31st...the end of the line.  Tomorrow starts a new year with so many opportunities to come.  Most people are reflecting on the past and vowing to do this year differently, no matter how unrealistic their goals are.  Sure, we all want to lose weight and we all want to win the lottery but I won't hold my breath.  I'd rather focus on goals that I have a vague chance of achieving.  So what are they?  To visit places I haven't been before, learn new things, make some happy memories and...maybe update this blog a little more frequently!

I always liked to go away for New Years.  I figured it was auspicious to start the year on a trip.  The first time I went away for New Years was when I went to the UK with my high school.  They let a band of young girls loose on the streets of Edinburgh during Hogmanay; not something I would do as a chaperone but I'm glad they let us.  Hogmanay is the Scottish New Years; it's origins are somewhat murky but most likely it's linked to Scotland's strong connection with the Norse people, AKA the Vikings.  Starting in the late 700s, the monasteries (AKA, where all the money was) of Scotland were being plundered by the Vikings.  This is your stereotypical view of Vikings; horn-helmet wearing, beard loving, axe wielding, etc.  But 100 years later, they decided to make the visits more permanent.  Intermarriage was common and soon Scottish and Norse cultural were intermarried as well.  In fact, if you visit some of the islands to the north and west of mainland Scotland, you will definitely pick up on the Norse vibe.  And with Hogmanay, you can again see the mingling of Norse and Celtic cultures.  Each city or region in Scotland does stuff a little different, but in Edinburgh it's pretty much a huge street party and last three days.  Needless to say, it's an experience you'll never forget.  There's usually a different theme each year but typically there are processions through the streets, a fun fair complete with rides, various concerts and usually a big headliner.  The year we were there, the evening started with a procession as we followed a massive inflatable monster through the streets.  Pretty crazy, right?  Just imagine if we were old enough to partake in some, as the Scots say, water of life!  Apparently there were over 300,000 out on the streets of Edinburgh that night.  There must have been big screens set up around the city because soon everyone was counting down the last seconds.  Kisses were exchanged with perfect strangers, fireworks exploded and Auld Lang Syne was sung.  Needless to say, it's hard to compete with something as epic as that.  The video (which i hope plays) should give you a good idea of the Hogmanay vibe.

courtesy of www.christmas-party-venue.co.uk

The next New Years celebrations I took part in was two years later on another school trip to the UK.  On this trip we stayed south of the Scottish border and instead were treated to a Elizabethan banquet at Hatfield House in Hertfordshire.  Hatfield House is a combination of two buildings.  The main part of the building is a later addition built in 1611 (I know, how modern) by the 1st Earl of Salisbury.  He had built it next to the original Hatfield House which had been built in the 1400s.  There isn't too much of that building left but, lucky for us, one of the parts remaining is the Banquet Hall where we got to spend our New Years.  Now it's easy to scoff at a Medieval banquet and think it will be like going to Medieval Times or the local Renaissance Fair but it's not.  It's fun and thanks to the authentic surroundings, it has a bit of truth to it.  Sure, the actual Queen Elizabeth I probably wouldn't have gone around to each table to talk to the peasants but that was her loss.  There is a four course meal and then it's dancing along to the DJ, which slightly kills the historical vibe, until the new year.


So after those New Years, it's kind of hard to compete.  But regardless, it's always worth a try.  Over the years, I've spent ringing in the New Year on a riverboat in Savannah, SC (not my favorite), down in the old town of St. Augustine, FL (loved it), at the beach in Ocean City, MD, Colonial Williamsburg, VA and at the Opryland Hotel in Nashville, TN.  And yes, it has heralded in years of traveling but truth be told, that's because I make it happen.  It's kind of funny that everyone seems to build up their dreams and aspirations for this one day and about a week later, those dreams are gone.  You know why (not to get all philosophical on you...)?  Because if you want to accomplish something, you've gotta work for it.  If making a resolution once a year was all it took then the world would be full of skinny millionaires with perfect families.  


So this year, my resolution is: to see a little bit of the world, even if it's my small corner of it; make some great memories with my friends and family; and share my travels to hopefully inspire you to get out there and see the world.      

HAPPY NEW YEAR :)