2:30pm. Let's see, with the time shift to Seattle (PST), that would put me at 6:30am. Right on track for a typical 8-5 workday. See, my problem was that I was just on the wrong land mass for my sleep habits. Everything is all sorted out now ;o)
First item on the day's busy agenda: Exercise and then watch American Beauty again. Glad I did it, as it was great the second time around as well. Whilst watching, I downed some peaches, plumbs, bananas, and peanuts, and called it breakfast. Afterwards, I just hung out and listened to the radio some more. Jean showed up at 5pm, just in time to watch an old Star Trek episode (Kirk's first encounter with, and humanity's first look at the Romulans -- a classic!). We headed back down to the pub for a pint or two, as that's what one does with one's self in Uckfield. While there, we chatted with a group of girls who were anxiously awaiting the results of their A-Level exams (equivilant to SAT, I think), which determine which university they can attend. One of the girls was sure that she would be working at Tesco (a supermarket chain in England) for the rest of her life. At least she knows what she's going to do with hers...
For some reason, Jean and I got separated right before leaving. On my way back, I stopped in at Blockbuster Video (still giddy with my recent membership acceptance) where I dropped off The Fight Club and picked up American History X, The Bone Collector, and James Bond 007: The World Is Not Enough. Further up the street, I stopped in at the grocery for Root Beer and Toffee Popcorn -- the dude laughed. Fine, I'd settle for Mountain Dew and Doritos -- I had him in stitches. After much chatting with the guy, assuring him that I was serious and trying to find other suitable options, I left empty handed :o(
Back at the ranch, I told Jean of my adventures in the store and decided to go back to Blockbuster for the toffee popcorn that they sell there. I had five minutes to make it, and might have done at a brisk walk, but decided to jog/run instead. I got two bags of toffee popcorn at Blockbuster (one for me, one for Jean) and dashed back to the grocery, which was also about to close, for a half litre of orange juice for Jean. The guy was still chuckling...
Once more back at the ranch, I dropped the junk food in Jean's room and joined Carol's 50th birthday party, already in progress. Basically there were about 10 people either aged in their low 20's or late 40's eating and chatting, so I fit right in. The party broke up around midnight, leaving the house empty and quiet, begging for videos to be watched. I caved and dropped The Bone Collector in at 1am. It was much better than I had anticipated, being as it starred Denzel Washington (sorry, not a fan). Actually, I try never to approach any movie anymore with great expectations. I've done that before and been burned. At least if I go in thinking it won't be good then, worst case, it lives up to my expectations, and will most likely be much better. Call me a pessimist, but at least this way I can usually walk out of a movie with a good feeling. Right, and with that said, I put in James Bond 007: The World Is Not Enough, which was not enough to keep me awake. It finished and I woke up to go to bed at 6am.
At 2pm I realized that I was awake. I moved downstairs to the TV room and dropped in James Bond 007: The World Is Not Enough (again). I managed to stay awake through every horrifying moment of it. It's not that the movie itself was so bad, but whoever cast Denise Richards as a nuclear physicist should be flogged, shot, drawn, quartered, then burned -- in that order. With luck she'll become trapped inside a paper bag, since we all know now that she couldn't possibly act her way out of it. I apologize for my brutality, but she made me do it! Being utterly in the mood for it, I chased the 007 disaster with The Fight Club, which I enjoyed much more the second time around, and I didn't dislike it the first time.
I got down to the Uckfield Blockbuster Video store at 6:30pm only to find it closed. The sign on the door said that they were closed that day for an unknown reason -- go figure. What if I had a video rental emergency? (It happens.) I panicked for a moment but then realized that I still had American History X to watch. Breathing more steadily, I slid the two videos from my hand into the night drop box and walked away. Feeling a bit in an adventurous mood, I turned right instead of left out of the video store -- this time on purpose! Passing McDonalds, I noticed that a)the place was packed, and b)the prices were the same as in the states, except that their numbers were sterling pounds (£1 == US$1.50) -- mental note: don't eat at McD's in england! Then, as I moved further down the block, looming grandly in the distance, I came upon a place which has since changed my life: Tesco. Tesco is a large, American style grocery store. Sure, you can still tell the difference by what items they carry and how they arrange them, but it's massive and stays open 24 hours a day -- except on sunday, of course(?!). I entered this shopping Mecca and came away with hamburger fixins, micro-chips, eggs, and goat's milk and cheese (it finally occurred to me that goats are not cows). Back at the ranch I built a couple of big ol' sloppy homestyle half-pound burgers with an egg, onion, lettuce, dijon mustard, ketchup, and goat cheese on whole wheat. Turns out that those crinkle micro-chips are tasty as well! Jean got home at midnight, just after I finished my dinner off (he's a programmer, too). We chatted for a while and then started watching American History X at 1am. He really wanted to watch it, but being as he had to get up early in the AM, he decided to head off to sleep. I, on the other hand, not really having anything to do or anywhere to be, finished watching American History X (pretty good, coulda been better) and then launched into Notting Hill, which I found laying around the house, and enjoyed immensely except that they didn't seem to click as a couple as much as the movie would want you to believe. Another night to bed at 6am, which in Seattle is only 10pm, which is quite a reasonable hour in my book ;o)
Hah! Up at the crack of noon :o) Very ambitious day ahead of me. The plan was to record some music from Jean's CD collection, get online at the local library (I'd heard that they do that kinda thing there), pack a bag to head up with Jean to stay in London in his girlfriend's mom's house, see The X-Men movie tonight, and catch a tour of London tomorrow. Right. I checked out the stereo downstairs and didn't like the way the sound came out of it. The small "boom-box" stereo that Jean had didn't have a line out and so was unusable. Fine, I wasn't meant to copy music that day. No worries, much more to be done. I did my routine, shaved, trimmed the goat, and caught a shower. Damn, kinda needed to do laundry, too... What that means is that both pair of shorts and one pair of pants were dirty, leaving the heavy/hot pants to be worn -- I don't think so. I just opted to wear the beige shorts, they just looked darker, not really "dirty". That sorted, I went out to find that someone had booked the one internet capable computer at the Uckfield Library through 'til 4:30pm -- right when I was supposed to be waiting patiently for Jean to return and head off to the train station headed up to London. Ok, not meant to be. My friends from Ibiza are thinking I'm dead. My friends back home are used to long periods of silence, in fact, they probably don't even notice yet. The week went soooo fast...
I moved everything from my small backpack, inserted my sleeping bag, an extra pair of socks, boxers, t-shirt, and my toiletries, and was ready to go (book, minidisc, etc are all assumed). On the way to the train I dropped the videos back at Blockbuster and dashed into the grocery for four vodka/lemon Hooch, you know, for the ride. The train left Uckfield at 6pm and cost us £7.40 to get to Victoria Station where we could catch the London Underground (aka The Tube). Thinking I was going to ride the tube again to get to the cinema where I would see The X-Men movie (trying not to anticipate that it would be great or anything), I purchased an all day tube pass for £4.10. We caught the tube bound for Ealing Broadway at 8pm, arriving there at 9pm where we snagged a cab over to Jean's girlfriend's mom's house. Three hours on a train, no worries, Eminem and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy made the time fly ;o) A short cab ride and we'd arrived, and later were having dinner with Barbara (the mother), Kamilla (the girlfriend), Jean (the dude from Ibiza who is kindly letting me hang out), me (the transient), and Christelle (the french border whose fiance was suffering from a brain tumor in the final stages so she was understandably not very talkative, but otherwise quite nice). The dinner was lovely, but dashed any hope I had of seeing a movie that night. (Brings to mind Otto in A Fish Called Wanda: Disappointed! *bang* -- an obscure quote, don't hurt yourself.) After dinner, Kamilla, Jean, and I walked to a local grocery to buy wine (I picked a nice pink one, Aaron would be pleased), and snacks. (ok, the snacks were all my idea: a flapjack granola-bar-like substance and a banana) We took it all back and watched TV 'til 1:30 or 2am when, shortly later, Paul Simon sang me to sleep -- what a nice guy ;o)
I was awakened by a knock on the door at 10:30am. It was Kamilla telling me that it was 10:30am. Hmmm, good thing to know, I thought as I rolled over. Eventually, I did work out that I should get up, and began moving around at 11am. Turns out that they have a very nice shower, a massive tub (I got that whole bath thing out of my system in Andorra, only showers now for a while), but no shower curtain(?!). I tried to splash inside the lines, and did a pretty good job for a novice.
It turns out that Jean and Kamilla were on their way out when she knocked on my door, so I hung out with Barbara all day. They were still moving into the place (remember that they were moving out during my visit on the previous weekend), so I set up the stereo system, unpacked the CD's and tapes, and loaded a bunch of trash into the car to go to the dump. It turns out that the dump is free unless you're a comercial business of some sort, which she wasn't so it worked out nicely. Afterward, we went by an art store as she had new walls to cover -- nothing was purchased to that end, only shopping (I'm not a big shopper, but at least it was an art store...). The next store was one of these greeting card, lava lamp, t-shirt type shops. Barbara was looking for a gift for Kamilla (graduation or some other school related celebration, maybe the A-Level results or something, can't recall for sure), but came away with only a red "Barbie's a Slut" t-shirt for herself. Having not yet eaten, the next stop pretty much had to be a restaurant. The french cafe Cafe Rouge won our business, and the food was excellent, if a little pricey for my budget. I had tomato soup, a seafood salad, and sausages and potatoes with some red wine (yum!), all for £22 (US$33). It was good to have a nice meal for a change, so the cost didn't sting so much. Speaking of stinging, whilst waiting for the food, Barb went to the restroom and smacked her head on a low hanging fixture, taking a nice goose egg away for her trouble. It was really hurting her, so I went down the road and bought some ibuprofin. Dunno if it helped her, but I felt better for providing it ;o) We met up with Jean and Kamilla to watch the character film Hi Fidelity, which was excellent (the casting was perfect). As we walked out, homeward bound, I made an executive decision, splitting off from the herd, and returned to watch the 8:50 showing of The X-Men (I told ya I wanted to see it).
I really tried to keep my enthusiasm to a minimum on my way to, and whilst waiting for the show. I did, however, allow myself a taste of the pre-epic euphoria that comes just before watching an excellent movie, all the while telling myself that it was going to be no better than mediocre to keep the probability of disappointment down. Man, the theatre I saw it in was weird. The screen was massive, with a matching sound system, of course. The seats were comfortable and sloped up in a shallow bleacher fashion, but they only went about 2/3 of the way to the screen. There was this huge empty space at the front of the theatre large enough to play an indoor soccer match in. I arrived ten minutes early, giving me a pretty good selection of seats to choose from. I picked one in the second row, which was well away from the screen. After a minute there I noticed that there were plenty of folks in all the other rows, but that I was the only one in the second row -- odd. I turned to the three behind me (two guys and a girl, in their late teens or early twenties) and asked if it was an american thing to sit in the second row, you know, maybe a cultural difference or something. They went with it, and we had a great laugh. It turns out that one of the guys didn't know what the X-Men were all about(?!), so I filled them in. By this time other folks had sat in the second row, so I guess it was simply a limited time coincidence. I found the film to be brilliant on all levels. The special effects were outstanding, and even the acting, which you wouldn't think would be that great in a film like this, was up there. The flaws in the storyline (ie: Magneto controlling lead bullets via a magnetic field) were forgivable as they were true to the comic series that the screenplay was adapted from. The only problem that I had with the movie was that it ended. *sigh* I guess I'll have to wait for a sequel, which I hope is done just as well, unlike the Batman series :o(
As I left the theatre, I had many opportunities to turn the wrong way -- and I took advantage of every one of them. It was after 11pm as I strolled in search of my bus on a saturday night, so I had the pleasure of witnessing no less than three drunken skirmishes, two of which involved police (brits, overall, tend to drink more than any other humans). After wandering for about half an hour, and no longer recognizing any of the buildings I was passing, I asked an elderly couple that I happened upon which direction it was to the tube station (my bus stops right outside). They chuckled and said that I had a bit of a walk and was heading in the wrong direction -- well duh, why else would I be asking them?? We chatted for a bit as we walked (nice folks), and then they pointed me down the correct streets to get me where I needed to go. I queued up for the bus behind three guys in their late teens. They were all eating, but each had something different. Gotta love the kebab shops here :o) I almost darted in for a snack, but I didn't want to miss the next bus. Anyway, one of them had the hiccups, quite noticably in fact. As we got on, I offerred to cure them for him. He was skeptical at first, but played along anyway. Now, if I tell you the cure, then it will never work for you when you are in need, so I won't. Suffice to say that he didn't hiccup again the entire night. I believe it was my friend Gordon (hiyas Gordo!) who I met in France that showed me the cure. Well, I'm sure that it was in Paris, anyway. We were sitting at a bar, watching a one-man band do a pretty danged good job, when he used it to cure my hiccups. I've been a believer ever since :o) Ok, I just looked it up on my site and it was Gordon who blessed me with the cure on 22 April 2000 in Paris. Be warned that once you read the cure (detailed in my 22 April 2000 entry) then it will most likely never work on you.
I actually got off at the correct stop and found my way easily back to the house, arriving at 11:30pm. Barbara was still up, so we chatted a bit and watched some bad TV until around 1:30am. I didn't sleep well that night, couldn't seem to get comfortable, but didn't mind as I wasn't on an agenda or anything.
Kamilla woke me again, this time at 9:30am (sheesh!). Jean and I were needed to move one chair from the second floor to the third floor, and another chair from the first floor to where the first chair was on the second floor. I was much less complicated than it sounds. That done, Kamilla and Jean headed out on the town again. I really needed to check my e-mail, and also had to move some money from my savings into checking (hadn't done that yet whilst travelling, things were costing me much less than anticipated for these past nine months), so I grabbed the bus down to Ealing Broadway once more. I got a shock the day before when I tried to witdraw some cash and was denied due to lack of funds. The machine I was at wouldn't allow me to do a balance inquiry, let alone a transfer from savings to checking, so I had to work out how to call the states (another thing I hadn't done since leaving in December).
As I hadn't had breakfast yet, I snagged a chicken burger, chips (french fries), and a pepsi to fill the hole -- the first chip scalded the back of my throat. You would think that after 33 years of eating I'd have gotten proficient enough to do it without injuring myself, but alas, 'twas not the case. I purchased a £5 phone card and began looking for internet by 4:45pm. I came upon a phone box (one of those red ones like Dr. Who's time machine, the tardis) and decided to try my luck at dialing. I stepped in and realized that I didn't know the phone code for the states. Bummer. The phone didn't say it anywhere. Aha! There were a couple of guys standing just outside the box chatting. I stepped out and waited patiently, and expectantly, for a break in the conversation. Finally it came, and I asked them if they knew the phone code for the states, explaining that they were fortunate enough to be standing near the phone box and so were selected for questioning. The guy said that it was number one. I confirmed, and he reaffirmed. Cool. I stepped back into the box and read the instructions. Damn, does that mean that I dial "1" for the country part or "001"? *sigh* I stepped back out of the box and waited paitiently, and expectantly, for yet another break in the conversation. Amazing, he didn't hit me or anything ;o) Thanking him again, I stepped finally into the box and dialed "001" for the US phone code, noticing that the info-dudes I'd been acessing moved on straight away. My transfer went smoothly, nary a single hitch. Being as I was in a phone box, with a phone card, US international phone code in mind, I decided to give my friend back home a call... and realized that I had forgotten her phone number. (DO NOT take offense! It had been over nine months since I'd dialed it last, and even then I didn't dial it much. I did remember your work number, which did me absolutely no good whatsoever.) Fine, I'll put that one off for a bit longer. I mean really, what's another day or two when it's been over nine months?? With all that behind me, I immediately hit a cash point, and then found an internet cafe which I occupied a terminal in from 5:30-6:30, getting my inbox down to a mere 62 messages (damn!). I had meant to download my web site so I could work offline if I got the opportunity in Uckfield, but didn't even get that done. I clearly needed to spend more time on the web, but Jean and Kamilla showed up just as I was finishing so we went and grabbed a pint at a nearby pub (there's always a pub nearby in Britain). Jean had decided to stay another night and catch a ride to work with his friend in the morning. I was offerred a place to stay one more night, which worked well for me as I wanted to do a tour of London on the following day (monday). My plan for the evening was to go back to eat and then return for more internetting as the shop didn't close 'til 11pm -- riiiiight.
We got back to the house at 7:30pm, and dinner was almost ready. Barbara had made sausages, mashed potatoes, brown onion gravy, and broccoli for dinner, which was excellent. After, I tried to call my friend again at 9:30pm, which would make it something like 1:30pm Seattle time. She wasn't home, go figure. I leave for a mere nine months and she's not waiting by the phone for my call?? Sheesh! ;o) It got to be too late to go back to the internet cafe, and frankly, after all the food, I wasn't in the mood any more. I decided to call it an early one and retired at 11pm to listen to the soothing sounds of Portishead. Again, I wasn't able to get comfortable, and this time it was more frustrating as I really thought it would come easy after the night before. I slept, finally, at 2am, slightly frustrated, definately tired.
I was actually awakened at 8am by my alarm, as planned :o) I was on the bus by 9:15am and sitting at an internet terminal from 9:45-10:45 (off-peak rate reduction, £2/hour, ends at 11am). Next stop was Piccadilli Circus tube stop, which is a very short walk from Trafalgar Square, which is where I knew that I could catch an open-top bus tour. I got there by noon and joined a bus tour for the low, low price of only £17.30. Ok, I'm being only a bit sarcastic there. US$26 is a bit excessive for a bus tour, but not that excessive since it's all day, has four lines, will let you on and off the bus, and has someone telling you about all the stuff you're driving past. As it turns out, they give you headphones that you plug in for a recorded city tour, synchronized by the driver with the sites you're driving past. The benefit of being recorded is that they can offer the tour in English, Kid's English, German, French, Spanish, Italian, Hebrew, and Japanese. I preferred the Kid's channel as it gave interesting facts along the way. Things like:
- The name Big Ben refers to the bell, not the clock or the tower.
- The name "taxi" refers to the metering instrument that was placed in the car which was (and still is) run by the police or the city or something.
- Invaders kept destroying London Bridge as it was the only real way across the river for a long time -- hence the song "London Bridge is falling down...".
- There are over 3300 corpses in Westminster Abbey (I'm sure they phrased it better for the kids).
- Hyde Park covers over 360 acres and contains a man-made lake called Serpentine Lake. The park is just a big open flat space. Weird. I'm used to the parks in the northwest US that are mountainous and tree covered.
- We saw an arch that used to be part of Buckingham Palace until (it's rumored) Queen Victoria had a coach made that was too wide for it so that the arch would be removed from the palace.
At 2:30pm I left the red bus line (that would be the one that I started on), sat for a bit to enjoy a pint of Guiness, and then grabbed a sandwich and a twenty ounce cup of Starbucks coffee (not a latte this time) for the bus. I continued my tour on the blue line, free of charge with my receipt from the morning. The only bit of knowledge I came away with from that line was that if a couple were to sincerely declare their love for one another on the steps below the Statue of Eros then it is said that it will last throughout eternity. (I believe that that statue is in Piccadilli Circus.) I'm sure that they slung other bits of knoledge at me, but as the kids channel was on the fritz I found most of it boring historical drivel. A group of japanese tourists did, however, wave from their private coach as we waited at an intersection -- I waved back :o)
The blue line let me off in Piccadilli Circus at 5:30pm. From there I proceeded to Leicester Square, where I suddenly became choked up, having to fight back tears. Leicester Square boasts four major cinemas (The Odeon West End, The Mezzanine, The UCI Empire, and The Warner Village) hosting twelve screens between them. In addition to that, there is The Prince Charles with its single screen, showing recent and older films for a massively reduced rate. The rate reduction is really needed as standard prices at the others range from £6.50-£9 for adults, while ol' Chuck's is only £1.50-£3.50. I was going to try to narrow my selection down to two movies and watch them while I was there, but then I saw the prices and thought differently about it. Instead, I went for a bit of a wander through china town and ended up eating a great meal of mixed meat chow mein (large, not greasy), dumplings (4, yum!), and green tea at 6:30pm -- I was well hungry! A couple came in just after me and ate what looked like whole heads of lettuce for an appetizer. I almost asked if they were really picking leaves off a head of iceburg lettuce, but resisted as I may turn out to be the odd one instead of them (what kinda freaks eat a plain ol' head of lettuce??)
Just off Leicester Square is Trocadero Centre, which is a fairly good sized mall containing a free fall type carnival ride and seven more screens in their UGC Cinema. I wandered into a souvenier shop (something I don't do often) and couldn't resist buying a white t-shirt with the london underground symbol and the phrase "MIND THE GAP" replacing the usual "LONDON UNDERGROUND" for only £8. I'm told by my english friends that it is quite tasteful (sarcasm doesn't lend itself well to the written word). From there I headed to Victoria station, arriving there at 8:25pm -- no worries, as Jean told me that the train to Uckfield ran 'til midnight. Tons of time. The train to Oxted runs hourly at 23 minutes past the hour. Damn, just missed it. I went to sort out a ticket and met a guy wanting to sell me a one-day railpass that would get me to Oxted for £3 instead of £5.40. I was dubious, but he showed me that it would open the gate to my train, so I bought in. After a call to Jean with my progress, I found that what he sold me would get me onto the train but still wouldn't cover the fare. Hmmpf. I'd been had. I had some time to burn until the trian came, so went lookin' for my new found buddy. Once I found him and explained that he really needed to give me a refund, and that I wasn't going to give him his danged pass back so he could do it to someone else, and that if he had a problem that I could hail the security with his screaming, he was very agreeable and even thanked me for my consideration. Turns out he was a nice guy after all :o) I got on my train bound for Oxted and wondered at my luck as the conductor didn't happen by until after I detrained in Oxted at 10pm. Cool, now if I could just be so lucky on the train to Uckfield...
The air was deliciously crisp. Most people would call it cold, but I was liking it, even being in just shorts and a t-shirt. I had a long sleeved flannel shirt with me, but didn't feel the need to put it on. After being in Spain, I was actually enjoying being a bit cold for a change. I remembered Jean saying something about a train coming every hour on the hour, and I know that the one I just took left at 23 past the hour, so this one must be the one that comes hourly, and I just happened to miss the 10pm -- that's what I thought anyway. Now, what to do in Oxted whilst waiting on a train platform alone between 10pm and llpm? I listened to some music, read my book, went through my exercise routine again (the beauty of not needing weights or other equipment), and became proficient in jumping up onto and then balancing on the back of the bench -- I may join the circus later in life ;o) Time passed, as it does, and a train came in at 11pm but was on the wrong track to be my train. I figured that it was possible that that was my train, so I went up to speak to the driver (they don't really drive the train, they just push the "go" and "stop" buttons). When I asked him if his train was headed for Uckfield he chastised me for wearing headphones, saying that if I'd take those things out of my ears then maybe I'd hear. I told him that I wasn't even listening to music but was reading and missed the call. Then he laughed at me saying that his train is electric and that no electric trains go to Uckfield this late in the evening. The last train bound for Uckfield left at 9:49pm. Well now, that's an interesting twist. The obvious question to ask would then be if he had a suggestion on how to get to Uckfield at 11pm. Still chuckling, he told me to take a cab -- I could get one just outside the train station. Hmmm, that sounded expensive. As I went out to the cab stop, I passed a group of three kids in their late teens standing and chatting. Before I got to the cab I turned back and decided to talk with the kids before they left -- I knew that the cabs weren't going anywhere. It turns out that they had just missed their train to East Greenstead or something like that because they had a food emergency and had to visit the kebab shop (hmmm, I've seen this before...). Their names were Max, Laura, and James, all 17 years old, Max and Laura being a couple. They informed me that there was no public transport to Uckfield at this time of night, and, in fact, there wasn't anything happening in Oxted at this time of night. I'd arrived in the armpit of England. I looked around for a stray tumbleweed to blow through and thought I may have spotted one at the end of the deserted street. Grim, very grim. The figured what I figured, that a cab would cost around £30 to get to Uckfield. All of us had some time, so we moved over to ask the cabbie what he would charge to Uckfield. Turns out we were wrong, the charge to Uckfield runs around £40. Whatever, the next train to Uckfield comes in only eight hours and I didn't really have to get there at a specific time or anything. I had a sleeping bag and my flannel, I should be fine. They all disagreed. Right at that time, as if on cue, three drunken and wanting to be disorderly gentlemen (I'll give them the benefit of the doubt on that one) exited the train station and approached the cab stop. The drivers both told them to piss off as it wasn't worth having drunks in their cab. Fine, I agreed that I probably didn't want to stay in Oxted. At that point, the driver, who had been listening in on the conversation, piped up and said that he'd take me ther for £20. Hmmm, half price, but still more than I wanted to pay. I was fine, I reassurred. Really. I can stay up in the corridor to the train station with no problem until the train comes. We chatted some more and Max wandered over to talk to the cabbie. When he returned he told me that the dude was just about to knock off for the night and would take me to Uckfield for free. Now that was cool. I jumped at the offer and away we went at nearly midnight. I arrived home at 12:45, finding that Uckfield was farther away than I had anticipated. The ride went quickly, though, as the driver and I had alot in common to talk about (movies, novels, etc). I had decided to give him something for the ride and handed him £10 as I thanked him profusely. That amount more than covered his fuel, with a few pounds left over. Too bad I hadn't met him in an area where I was staying more permanently, as we could have been friends. Well, finally at home, I at two bowls of Frosted Shreddies(tm), a tiny bag of spicy tomato Wheat Crunchies(tm), and really bad tiny apple pie (I think it wanted to be baked first or something). Sleep found me at 1:30am, back in Uckfield, having escaped Oxted: The Armpit of England.
I actually woke at 10am for a much needed laundry day. All the folks I've seen in England hang their clothes dry. In fact, that was a common theme in Spain, too, but understandably so with their climate. So I washed my load of clothes and hung them out to dry, all the while recording albums like Live! - Throwing Copper, Enigma - The Voice of Enigma, Nirvana - MTV Unplugged, Nine Inch Nails - Pretty Hate Machine, and The Crow Soundrack. That done, I went to the Uckfield Library at 3pm for a bit of internetting, only to find that someone had it booked 'til 4pm. Fine, I had my files on disk, I would simply use one of their other machines to edit my HTML and upload it later when I got the chance. Now this library, granted, it's in Uckfield, but still... this library has three computers available for public use. Those computers are in a severely lit room with the sun streaming in on the backs of the monitors, straight into the eyes of any would be user. The computers themselves are all locked down with big buttons on the desktop for which applications can be run. Sadly, there is no button for WordPad on these machines, or even Notepad, but only Word 7.0. There seems to be no way to edit the source of an HTML file in Word 7.0 without changing the file extension first. Now I could have done that, but it seemed a bit infantile -- then again it was Microsoft I was dealing with... Fine, nothing more to do but wait for the internet machine to become free, so I left for the hour instead of waiting there. Being in Uckfield on an afternoon, the best thing to do would be to visit Tesco for a bit of shopping, which is what I did -- wheee! It's not really that bad, it just seems fun to tease Uckfield a bit. It was actually exactly the type of town that I needed to recharge from Ibiza. Shopping done, I returned to the library and tried in vain to catch up on my e-mail 'til 5pm when they kicked me out. Back at the house, I found Jean sitting on the stoop and it looked like he'd been there for a while. It turns out that he left his key at Kamilla's house and was locked out. He'd only been there about 20 minutes, so no worries. We went in, dropped things, and headed down to the pub around 6pm. This time, wanting to try some of the local brew, I got a taste of pretty much everything and then ordered up a pint of Old Speckled Hen (kinda ok, too thin for me though) followed by a pint of Caffrey's (light, yet creamy). We sat with about fifteen folks this time, all of them right around their 18th year in life. In fact, Clare was turning 18 the next day. (Legal drinking age in England is 18, but is not strictly enforced.) We all sang Happy Birthday to her, which made her sufficiently embarassed, and then talked about such things that people talk about in a pub. We left just before 10pm, leaving enough time to stop at Blockbuster and pick up End of Days and Random Hearts. I started in on Random Hearts that night, but didn't have the strength to make it through the whole thing. I drug myself to bed at the young hour of 1am.
I didn't actually get any exercise in, but rationalized it away since I got in two full routines on the day previous.
Back to my old self, morning found me at 2pm. First order of business would be to wash my sleeping bag, which was smelling a bit ripe, and then hang it on the line to dry. As it was washing, I finished watching Random Hearts, which was, in my opinion, lame, and then recorded a bit more music before going down to the library for more e-mail at 4pm. As usual it was booked, but they did have a slot open from 6:30-7:30pm, which I took, and walked Random Hearts back only to pick up Inspector Gadget and Julian Po -- you can't ask for a wider range than that :o) After my hour of e-mail, which still didn't yield an empty inbox, I returned to fry up some veggies, eggs, and bratwurst for Jean and me to have along with beans and toast for dinner. It was delicious, if I do say so myself, and I believe I just did ;o) Later, I tried to reach Andrew and Vanessa (the couple I had met in Ibiza and was going to go to Cream Fields with a couple of days hence), but had no luck. Once again, when the house became quiet, I skulked down to enter the wonderful world of video. First up was End of Days, which was better than Random Hearts, but only because it was an action flick. Inspector Gadget was pretty Disney, but I liked it just the same as I was a Matthew Broderick fan and had seen the cartoon series that the movie was based on. Finally came Julian Po. My hopes were higher than they should have been for this one. It was slow, and didn't go the places that I thought a film with a suicidal Christian Slater should have gone, but wasn't downright painful to watch. At 3:30am, after trying to call my friend in the states yet again, only to find that the phone in the house was not touchtone (my phonecard required touchtone), I headed off to bed.
I woke at 12:30, about two minutes before Andrew returned my call from the previous evening. We got everything squared away on the phone. I'd be heading up to Cambridge on the train the day following, and then we'd be off to Cream Fields in Liverpool on the day after that. My sleeping bag was dry, for the most part, but the down was fairly clumped. I needed to tumble dry it for a while to fluff it back up. I set some more music to record and then headed out with my bag in hand in search of a place to dry it. The dry cleaners wouldn't do it unless it had been freshly washed, said it would ruin the bag -- whatever. I remembered seeing a coin-op laundry on my first walk about town over a week earlier, and was able to walk straight to through back streets some 20 minutes walk away -- amazing. Tumble drying on a low heat did the trick, and I had a lovely chat with the fine old guy that works there during the day while I waited. Feeling like I'd actually accomplished things, I returned to the house at 5:30pm when I ate and then lounged and chatted with Carol and Allan (chick that owns the house and the dude dating her). Jean and I headed down to the pub one final time (for me, anyway) where we met the friend of his that we were supposed to have met on the night of my first full day in Uckfield. Turns out he was a really nice guy and we got on well. A couple of Caffrey's later we left, the time being just after 10pm. Back at the ranch, we broke out Jean's hair clippers and went to work. First, I shaved the top of my head to a '3' (that's a hair clipper setting and I have no idea what length it corresponds to, sorry). Then I had Jean chop a nice old line around the top and cut the sides down to a '0' (that would be about 2 days growth). No blending, just a patch on top -- this cut had nothing to do with the beer, I'd been trying to get a barber to understand how I wanted it for months. Jean keeps his head shaved as well, so I scraped his down to a '1.5' for him. After packing, I sat downstairs and recorded 'til 5am. Perhaps I should have slept earlier...
Cream Fields! :o)