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| Pollok Park |
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| Pollok Park |
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| Necropolis |
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| Glasgow University |
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| Glasgow University |
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| Kelvingrove Museum and Gallery |
20 June 2012
Glasgow pics
12 June 2012
About a Welshman
In Wales we met a gentleman who gave us a great example of British politeness. He was walking through the mountains and came across a British couple. They exchanged their hellos and discussed possible routes as is apparently customary in the mountains, or rather on the mountaintops. He was about to continue his walk when the lady asked where he was from. But before he could answer, she added: "You're from Norway, aren't you? I've heard that accent before!" He was baffled by that idea, and speechless for a moment. But after regaining his composure he said: "Yes, indeed, that's exactly right, I'm Norwegian." He figured that he and that couple would never meet again, so this little white lie would be preferable to the truth, which was that he had been living in Milton Keynes, which is between Cambridge and Oxford, for most of his life, but that he was born and raised in Wales. He was as British as that couple, but as a Britishman too polite to possibly make her feel foolish about her completely wrong assumption.
11 June 2012
10 June 2012
About a guy from Manchester
Englishmen from Manchester are pretty hard to understand because of their peculiar accent. At least that's what people say, and that's why I think that the guy was from Manchester: we were having a hard time trying to understand him when he was chatting me and Kat up in the hostel in Grasmere. But he was friendly enough and better entertainment than none.
He was a serious hiker - that's what he tried to make us believe. At some point however, he had to admit that he and his pals had their stuff transported, so no wonder that they were able to make more distance per day than we did. To be honest, that made me feel very superior, even though I didn't even carry all of my stuff myself, having put some of the stuff that I didn't need for hiking (such as dancing shoes...) in Ella's transported bag.
The guy from Manchester and his pals were walking the whole coast-to-coast path, and not all of them were entirely well prepared or informed. They stayed in hostels that usually provided bedding. At one point, though, they had to stay in cabins, and one of the pals didn't bring a sleeping bag. Have I mentioned that it gets quite chilly in May at night in the Lake District? So neither did he have a sleeping bag nor a blanket. What he did to survive the cold night is empty his backpack, wearing as many clothes as possible, including old socks on the hands as gloves, and crawl into his backpack which probably only covered parts of his legs. At this point of the story, with this image in mind, the guy from Manchester finally succeeded in making us laugh.
He was a serious hiker - that's what he tried to make us believe. At some point however, he had to admit that he and his pals had their stuff transported, so no wonder that they were able to make more distance per day than we did. To be honest, that made me feel very superior, even though I didn't even carry all of my stuff myself, having put some of the stuff that I didn't need for hiking (such as dancing shoes...) in Ella's transported bag.
The guy from Manchester and his pals were walking the whole coast-to-coast path, and not all of them were entirely well prepared or informed. They stayed in hostels that usually provided bedding. At one point, though, they had to stay in cabins, and one of the pals didn't bring a sleeping bag. Have I mentioned that it gets quite chilly in May at night in the Lake District? So neither did he have a sleeping bag nor a blanket. What he did to survive the cold night is empty his backpack, wearing as many clothes as possible, including old socks on the hands as gloves, and crawl into his backpack which probably only covered parts of his legs. At this point of the story, with this image in mind, the guy from Manchester finally succeeded in making us laugh.
9 June 2012
Cornwall Pics
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| Hello, Rosamunde Pilcher! |
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| A pagan worshipping the highest mountain Cornwall's with a dance ceremony |
8 June 2012
Wales Pics
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| Llyn Ogwen |
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| Tryfal |
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| Glyder Fach |
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| This reminded me of Manhattan... |
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| Royal Navy helicopter practicing getting really close to a mountain |
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| Llyn Ogwen |
7 June 2012
Lake District Pics
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| Black Sail Youth Hostel |
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| Grasmere |
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| Angler Tarn |
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| Blue Bells |
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| Shap Abbey |
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| New Ing Lodge in Shap |
6 June 2012
Map Update
This is a map which more or less reflects my travels in England and Wales. I have been and will be travelling back and forth between London and Cambridge a bit, and also have an appointment for an assessment centre for a job at Johnson Matthey south of Cambridge this Friday, but I am definitely going to leave England on Friday, going to Scotland.
View Maike's Big Trip 2012 in a larger map
View Maike's Big Trip 2012 in a larger map
5 June 2012
About an Australian Lady
I've been meaning to write a bit more about our walking trip in the Lake District, and then Wales and Cornwall, but Katharina already did that quite funnily. Check it out here: whatsupinuk.blogspot.co.uk
Instead, I'm going to tell some tales from the road.
We met this elderly Australian lady in Shap in the pub. She was walking the whole Coast-to-coast path with a group of other Australians, and we had met them more than once before on the trail. She was married, and her husband came with her from Australia to England on vacation. In 30 years of marriage they had never been apart for longer than a week. Unfortunately, her hubby preferred playing golf to climbing mountains, so they agreed to go separate ways for the three weeks it would take the group to finish the Coast-to-coast walk. He dropped her off at the starting place in St. Bees, where we, too, took off. He then took his rental car and went sightseeing for a bit in the Lake District, before he set off to a golf resort in Birmingham.
After a tough first day of hiking, the Australians reached their destination in Cleator. I remember our first day vividly. The backpack was heavy, the first bruises on the hips and shoulders were forming, and my knees and feet just couldn't make up their minds whether or not to make trouble. The main problem was the morale, though, since the landscape just wasn't that pretty, and I was secretly wondering if we had made a huge mistake with this whole undertaking. In the evening, all I wanted was a hot shower, hot dinner, and a pint. I imagine the Australian lady felt similarly, only that she was going to stay in a nice B&B where she could probably take a bath and have a whole room just for herself. But what a surprise when she found a postcard at this B&B waiting for her, written by her dear husband! And the bigger surprise was that she found a postcard like that also in each of the other B&Bs she stayed in on her trip until we met her in Shap. When she thought that her husband was sightseeing he had actually been on a secret mission to stop at every single place she would be sleeping in and drop off a postcard for her.
Instead, I'm going to tell some tales from the road.
We met this elderly Australian lady in Shap in the pub. She was walking the whole Coast-to-coast path with a group of other Australians, and we had met them more than once before on the trail. She was married, and her husband came with her from Australia to England on vacation. In 30 years of marriage they had never been apart for longer than a week. Unfortunately, her hubby preferred playing golf to climbing mountains, so they agreed to go separate ways for the three weeks it would take the group to finish the Coast-to-coast walk. He dropped her off at the starting place in St. Bees, where we, too, took off. He then took his rental car and went sightseeing for a bit in the Lake District, before he set off to a golf resort in Birmingham.
After a tough first day of hiking, the Australians reached their destination in Cleator. I remember our first day vividly. The backpack was heavy, the first bruises on the hips and shoulders were forming, and my knees and feet just couldn't make up their minds whether or not to make trouble. The main problem was the morale, though, since the landscape just wasn't that pretty, and I was secretly wondering if we had made a huge mistake with this whole undertaking. In the evening, all I wanted was a hot shower, hot dinner, and a pint. I imagine the Australian lady felt similarly, only that she was going to stay in a nice B&B where she could probably take a bath and have a whole room just for herself. But what a surprise when she found a postcard at this B&B waiting for her, written by her dear husband! And the bigger surprise was that she found a postcard like that also in each of the other B&Bs she stayed in on her trip until we met her in Shap. When she thought that her husband was sightseeing he had actually been on a secret mission to stop at every single place she would be sleeping in and drop off a postcard for her.
1 June 2012
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