Calling on London

Just a few snaps from this past weekend. On Sunday I got up all my courage and and went into London all by my little lonesome to have a look around. I just did the touristy thing but it was TOTALLY worth it.

Here’s a few shots from the day. All taken with my iPhone4s and the Camera+ app.

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From Paddington Station comes a statue of Paddington Bear. It’s an adorable little statue, so very endearing.

I had to do a bit of a close crop on this shot because The Most Oblivious Woman In The World was sitting on the base of the statue shoving sushi in her maw. There were plenty of empty seats around and a group of us wanting to take photos of the little bear, but she refused to move.

Ah well.

He is a rather handsome little bear, isn’t he?



Copyright 2012, Karen Fayeth


After riding the train into Paddington station and befriending the bear, I caught the tube from Paddington to Westminster. As I came up from the underground, I saw a really pretty sunny London day. Then I saw a whole lot of people facing me snapping away at cameras. I vogued a little bit until I realized the lenses were all pointing skyward.

So I turned around.

And saw this.

Whoa! It’s the Elizabeth Tower which contains the bell called Big Ben. Let me say this, ol’ Ben sure has a pretty sound. At the top of the hour and at every quarter hour the bell rings out.

So delightful.



Copyright 2012, Karen Fayeth


From there I wandered around and walked among the buildings, admiring history.

Behind Parliament there is a little park that borders the Thames. While strolling there, a local (a security guard, actually) pointed out this little feature to me.

It’s a carving into the stone at the perimeter of Parliament.

It’s a high water mark showing the highest the Thames has ever been. The date is January 1881. Let me tell you this…the mark is pretty damn high. Scary to think what the flooding must have been like back then.

I was pretty intrigued by the carving both from a historical perspective and with a morbid point of view.

Yes, the photo is crooked. That’s because to get the shot I had to put the phone on the ground and the ground is quite uneven.

I think the tilt gives it character.



Copyright 2012, Karen Fayeth


And finally….here is a naughty little gargoyle hanging off of Westminster Abbey. There are thousands of these little guys, all different. I liked the rude faces most of all. I understand that the imps with tongues out are actually downspouts for water. I think they are hilarious.

Obviously, this one has been run through an Instagram filter. This was shared on Twitter and Facebook too, earlier today.



Copyright 2012, Karen Fayeth



All photos Copyright 2012, Karen Fayeth, and subject to the Creative Commons license in the right column of this page. Taken with an iPhone4s and the Camera+ app.



How Very Civilized

It’s back. Oh no, really? Yes. It’s here again.

I’m speaking of the entity known as jet lag.

It’s percolating on a “medium” setting at this moment, but give it another day or two and I’ll be at full on speaking gibberish and wandering around catatonic.

I’m quite certain zombie mode will come on full strength right about the time I have to give my very important presentation to a VERY large crowd.

This post has only just begun and I’m already digressing.

This is your brain. This is your brain on jetlag.

Anyhoo, there was a topic I wanted to talk about. What was it? Oh yes, I got it.

As I made reservations for my trip to the UK on my work travel system, it asked me nicely if I wanted to rent a car, to which I replied “oh hell no.”

Driving on the other side of the road in another country and through one of the largest cities in the world just after coming off a ten hour airplane flight does not sound like my idea of a good time.

At all.

It was recommended that I take a train from London to my destination about an hour and twenty minutes away. “It’s easy,” they said.

“They” being people who live here and are used to it. It’s a different perspective if it’s what you know.

Me, I was a bit nervous. I’ve always heard that the rail system in Europe is amazing beyond belief, but you never know until you are up to your eyeballs in it. It requires a bit of jumping into the deep end to see if you can figure out how to swim.

I was advised to take something called the Heathrow Express to London’s Paddington station. For fans of children’s books, that’s the same train station where the famous Paddington Bear was found by the Brown family.

The Good Man wanted to pin a note to my shirt saying “Please look after this Karen. Thank you.”

Then from Paddington I was guided to take a train to Newbury. Sounds easy, but I was a little tentative. I can easily get spun around in a busy place.

Turns out, it really was easy. I mean, quite incredible how well organized and very easy to navigate this transit system is.

I think the only hitch in my travel was that my suitcase was a little too large to easily pass through turnstiles and narrow passages.

The train conductor on the First Great Western was a little bothered by where to put my large suitcase (they have only small overhead storage for luggage). But even that wasn’t too challenging.

As I rode for a little more than an hour on the very clean, smooth and efficient rail, I was just so happy. And a little pleased with myself, too.

Until today, I’d considered the T in Boston, the Metro in New York and Atlanta’s Marta to be the high water mark when it came to easy transit in densely populated areas.

Move aside US transit. Ya’ll got nothing on this.



First Great Western trains in Paddington Station.



Image from the Guardian.



From The Top

And the cycle starts again.

Where is my passport? Which suitcase should I use? Will I be able to sleep on the plane? Ten hours in flight, really? How many snacks should I bring? How many movies can I cram on my iPad? Ohmuhgawdinheaven I’m really doing this again?

Yup.

I’m really doing this again.

A plane ride is nigh. My third international trip in three months.

April = Singapore
May = Costa Rica

And that must mean it is June and time for travel to the UK.

A new beginning. A new trip. An old country that’s brand new to me.

Ever since I was a small child I’ve wanted to go to London. I’ve always felt a yearning to be there. Can’t explain why, but it calls to me. I’ve even blogged about my rampant anglophilia. My fave of those posts is here

When my fabulous cousin made one of his many trips, I’d read his travel journals with a mixture of envy and “I gotta get there too”.

And so I finally get to go, but it’s with less excitement and a little more pondering that I face this trip.

I think when I was a kid and fantasized about being in London, it was all double decker buses and tea and crumpets and Big Ben. Never in those dreams did I image myself trapped in a conference room for hours and hours belaboring even the smallest of points with a far too large and much too arrogant telecom company.

Beggars can’t be choosers. My company is footing the bill for airfare and a serviceable hotel for me. I will stay for two weeks in a town located about an hour outside of London. I will work my butt off on this trip, to be sure. But I also have two weekends to myself to explore.

I’m actually overwhelmed. How does one see London in just a few days! London Bridge and Parliament and 10 Downing Street and the London Eye and Piccadilly Circus and more and more and more!

Gah!

I’m nervous and daunted but underneath it all I’m also pretty happy to finally fulfill a dream!

And so as I walk around my office today making plans and wrapping up details, I hum quietly to myself a favorite Roger Miller tune:

England swings like a pendulum do,
Bobbies on bicycles, two by two,
Westminster Abbey the tower of Big Ben,
The rosy red cheeks of the little children.

Hang on! Put on your seatbelt. Keep all limbs inside the vehicle.

And awaaaaay we goooooo!





Image found at World Tourist Place.

Today’s Theme Thursday is: a new beginning



Wild Animals Are Wild

I am a woman of the West.

I know how to ride a horse. I know how to dehorn a calf and sear the artery if clipped. I have wrangled horses, cattle and even one summer, I wrangled honey bees for a ranch with a lucrative side deal for a major honey producer.

I have stood confidently in front of a pack of horses as they charged at me. I had a riding instructor who made us stand at various places in a large pen and she charged the horses at us and made us learn to turn the herd. Over and over.

I have stared down the barrel of a herd of calves who were naturally unwilling to herd and likely to scamper as they broke free from a trailer and ran to the four winds. I have pushed noses, tails and avoided flying hooves as I helped turn them back around.

I have stood near the back of a horse trailer when a flighty animal came blasting out. I have stood in the front of a horse trailer when a balky animal wanted no part of loading in.

I have even been in the line of fire of a charging herd of insane sheep (all sheep are insane) and got the hell out of the way.

Once, I was almost trampled by turkeys.

All of this is to say, I’ve got a little experience with large animals and herd behavior. I know how to stand confidently and turn those charging animals in another direction. I know not to have fear but only conviction.

I am a powerful woman of the West.

Today, I was out walking with a friend (known on this blog as Worm Girl) on a walking path that is next to a grassy berm that runs along a busy street.

Along this berm were about thirty wild Canada geese.

Suddenly along came a fire truck with sirens at full blast.

And when those thirty geese turned in masse and began running toward me (and away from the siren)…
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…I screamed like a little girl, threw my arms over my head and hid behind my friend.

That’s me, a powerful, animal wrangling, rootin’ tootin’ woman of the West.






Annie Oakley photo found all over the web in public domain and used here under Fair Use.



I Got Some Thinking To Do

Do you know who this guy is (the one in the middle)?

Don’t worry if you don’t, because I didn’t know who he was either before this past Wednesday.



Photo Copyright 2012, Karen Fayeth

His name is Raphael Jacquelin and he’s a pro golfer.

I took this snap while wandering the course during the last practice day before the start of the US Open.

To be perfectly honest with you, I was heading back to the fancy tent (seen in the background) where I had a fancy pass to enter and drink not really fancy, but totally free, beer. I came across this guy and another golfer, Anders Hansen, teeing off on what I think was the 18th hole at The Olympic Club.

Now, I don’t present this photo to you to show off my brand new golf knowledge.

Nope.

I display this photo and ask you to take a look at the complete sh– eating grin on this guy’s face. To be honest with you, that is not just a one-moment-in-time kind of a smile. I have a series of photos and this guy had this grin on his face from start to finish.

A little research tells me that ol’ Raphael is a good enough golfer to qualify for things like the US Open, but perhaps not a good enough golfer to win any of the majors. He’s picked up a few tournaments in Europe, but basically he plays well enough to stay in the top 150 or so golfers in the world (which, let’s be fair, is pretty damn good).

Here’s my point.

There has never been a single day on the job, whether at age sixteen, my hardworking late twenties or sitting here at my desk today where I have worn a sh– eating grin that big while I did the work that got me paid.

My job does not give me a smile that wraps around the back of my head.

Go ahead, click that photo to see. In the larger version you can inspect not only the man himself but the guy standing behind him. Grin city.

I want a gig that pays pretty well (let’s be honest, he gets cash just for finishing the event), doesn’t really stress me out and makes me smile like everything is always gonna be really all right.

I want a job like that.

How do I get a job like that?

I’ve got some thinking to do.

I’ll be in the courtesy tent quaffing Stellas until I find the answer.

Or until they kick me out.

Whichever comes first.
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By the way, I just checked the leader board for day 2 of the Open and Mr. Jacqelin is in 13th place. Not bad.



Photo Copyright 2012, Karen Fayeth and subject to the Creative Commons license in the far right column of this page.