Puttin' the Kae in UK

Kae's visiting again! Woo hoo!

Trooper that she is, after much excitement and a big breakfast, the three of us then went shopping in Gloucester. Well, Tea and Kae shopped, for our imminent tour of Belgium and the Netherlands, while I'll kicked back in the New Inn with a book and a pint. I got chatting with a local, Don -- thanks, again, to the Roots swag I picked up in January; that stuff is aces for starting conversations about Canada -- who'd visited a fair bit of our beautiful country.

Many of the old travel guides I've been reading lately reference rail lines that no longer exist, including the old Honeybourne Line, which Don remembered from his college days, travelling from his home, then, in South Wales, to Cheltenham. I said that our rail network pales in comparison to theirs, and while he agreed, he said it's as the modern system does to that of his youth, when, for example, Cheltenham had three stations, and there were twice as many stations along his route to the college.

He and his family visited Canada in 2008, and had planned that part of the journey would be by rail. When they got to the station in Toronto, they learned that some signalling error had caused a derailment, and that Via was now putting buses on. (Their destination was Montreal.) Coincidentally, this was in late July, and they'd just learned about the terrible fate of Tim McLean. None of them slept a wink on that leg.

Overall, they really enjoyed Canada, though. They got to see Niagara, Toronto, Ottawa, Quebec City and Montreal during their time there. I was surprised by what impressed him the most about our country, however: how apologetic the French Canadians they met were about their poor English. He said it was just so unexpected and genuine.

As I packed up to move on, he said I could come back and visit him at his 'office' any time. I love the New Inn!

From there, with the girls still occupied, I moved to another pub I'd been meaning to try: Dick Whittington's. Like the New Inn, it is also a historic building. I was surprised to find, in Darrel's book, The Story of Gloucester's Pubs, that the pub had suffered from poor management recently. I strongly suspect that's no longer the case, as the publican who served me was very friendly and generous with bar snacks. He also had an excellent spread of real ales on, including two from the Great Western Brewing Company, which I'd never tried before. Excellent stuff.

* * *

The next day -- a very special one for Tea -- we decided to go to Birmingham, for a day out and supper at Jamie's Italian. While standing around at our train station wondering why there were only buses on, who should appear before us but Matt, picking up his tickets for Edinburgh in a week's time. Having nothing better to do, he agreed to join us, on what would now be our drive to B'ham (for the first time).

The trip was seamless -- surprising, considering we were driving in the second biggest city in the UK -- and, as happened the day before, the girls soon left me -- with company this time! -- agreeing to meet at Jamie's later.

Aside: prior to splitting up, we'd all been shocked to discover a wide range of 'American' foodstuffs at the Food Hall of beautifully-designed Selfridges store in the Bull Ring: we're talkin' Jif and Skippy peanut butter (from Ohio!), Aunt Jemima pancake mix, Lucky Charms, a whole 'American baking' section... The list goes on. How the heck we've been ignorant of this mecca for so long is beyond me.

You'll no doubt be shocked to learn that we found ourselves at a pub shortly thereafter. First, the Wellington, which was much calmer than the last time I'd been there, and then the Anchor again. The highlight of the afternoon was definitely Beowulf's Killer Stout, which we wisely consumed as half-pints (7.9% ABV).

Eventually we found our way to Jamie's -- much later than the girls, we learned, sitting in the Anchor. Having had to walk by the patio at Jamie's to get from the Wellington to the Anchor, both Matt and I somehow failed to notice them waving at us. Ahem! A few missed calls and texts later, we sheepishly finished up our pints. Thankfully Jamie's wasn't busy, so we were quickly sat, once we'd made our way back -- and only ten times off our agreed time, I must add!

You must (must) be tired of hearing this by now, but, yet again, Jamie's failed to disappoint. In fact, my special of pork loin with beetroot and basil that had been honey-glazed and roasted, was one of the best dishes I've had to date. We got the antipasti plank again, and the bread selection; just a fantastic spread. This was Matt's first time at a Jamie's, and I'm sure he'll be bringing the family to one when they're over for a visit.

All in all, a great weekend. Now, off to pack!

Up next: Brussels

Birmingham: Back to Jamie's

With a rainy Saturday developing, we decided, on a whim, to take the train to Birmingham, for a bit of shopping and a meal at Jamie's Italian. Happily, we were under blue skies before long, enjoying the bustle of the Bull Ring. There's such an energy in that city, and in the open market especially; the air's a-buzz with it, the shouts of the vendors hawking their produce or auctioning off their cuts of meat coming over the top.

We put our name in at Jamie's Italian, and with an estimated wait of forty minutes, took their pager for a stroll. We came upon a fantastic find then: a bin, outside a lingerie shop of all things, filled with old water jugs advertising various breweries, £2 a pop. We picked up five, for less than we've paid for one in the past.

Shortly thereafter the pager went off. I'm happy to say that the Birmingham location is yet another example of the stellar standards we've come to expect from Jamie's. I went with their specials exclusively this time: a golden beetroot soup to start, followed by crab and risotto cakes with a fennel salad. Both were superb; simply superb. The only way the crab cakes could've been any better was if they'd included a few more tangerine segments -- maybe one per cake -- vice the one. Such an amazing blend of flavours. Tea's mushroom panzerotti was the same; probably more so, in fact.

Finally, while we were initially disappointed to learn that our beloved lemon polenta cake is a seasonal offering, the waiter was absolutely correct: the chocolate, raspberry and amaretto brownie with bourbon vanilla ice cream was truly to die for. And I don't normally make a fuss about the bill, but I think it's important that I highlight how affordable Jamie's is: all that, plus their fabulous selection of breads, a bruschetta starter, 1.5 litres of their lovely house red, and tea and coffee only cost £64. At the risk of officially joining their marketing team, I'll reiterate a sentiment I've blogged before: this is some of the best food I've eaten out; ever. And I've paid a lot more than that for meals of similar composition.

Pleasantly full, it was time for a bit of shopping. The last train home was around half nine, so we stopped up with enough time for a pint. Tea's CAMRA app. pulled through again, pointing out the wonderful Anchor Inn, just down the road from the Bull Ring. I'd recommend it for the atmosphere and friendly staff alone, but the list of real ales they had on pushes it to legendary status in my books. And it seemed to be a local favourite too, with lots of folks -- a range of ages at that -- havin' a good time.

The same could be said of the Royal Union, where we finished the night, back in town. It was good to see. We've decided Robin needs to let the dogs come down and mingle more, though.

As always, we've created a Picasa album with more pictures from the afternoon and evening.

A little slice of Germany (and Christmas!) in the Midlands

We decided to take a quick train ride up to Birmingham to check out its famous Christmas market -- the biggest outside Germany, apparently. It seems that Birmingham is always a waypoint for us, as we fly on to other destinations, so it was nice to spend some time there; it really does feel like the country's second largest city, particularly the area we were in, swelled as it was with the market crowds.

At times you couldn't move, the pavements were so packed. Not a big deal when you have a piping hot mug of mulled wine warming your mitted hands and smelling so wonderful. And it was a feast for the eyes as well, of course: from the stunning traditional carousel in Victoria Square, to the displays of miniature German villages and nutcrackers -- Tea brought some of that home with her, of course.

Something I didn't expect was the wide range of German beers. In fact, it so struck me as wandering in Munich, that when Tea said that the market was known for its rare German beers, I replied, "What? I'm sure we could get a dunkel or Weissbier on any corner." Honestly, it really is a little slice of Bavaria. (Well, Germany, I guess, as they had Kölsch as well, which is associated more with Cologne -- where we're going next month for yet another Christmas market!)

We had a fantastic bratwurst shortly after arriving -- even the roll it was in was so wonderfully crusty and fresh... My mouth's watering just remembering it -- but started to think about a sit-down supper as evening approached. Thanks to Tea's handy CAMRA Beer Guide application, we found that a former Pub of the Year, The Wellington, was just a block off the market. That board on their website is current; they have it up on a big screen, and you order by pump number. The place was packed with folks and good cheer; just a great atmosphere. You don't see many milds around, so I ordered a pint of Hobson's Mild and Tea went for a Baskerville from the local Two Towers brewery. Both were excellent.

The Wellington doesn't serve food, though, so after that we were back on the street in search of a restaurant. Luckily, Thai Orchid is pretty much across the way. Their Tom Yam Goong (#11) was probably the best Thai soup we've had -- delicious!

The market was still in full swing as we finished up, so we got another mulled wine for the train ride, then continued with the supermarket brand when we got home, watching Love Actually and part of Elf before packin' it in.

 

Check out my Picasa album for more pictures from the evening.

Dublin: visit to a sister colony

On the streets of Dublin

On a bit of a whim, we took last Thursday and Friday off and went to Dublin. It's something we're thinking about doing more regularly, this extended long weekend away; it's enough time to see a lot without eating up all our leave. The traveling was some of our easiest to date: a quick train ride to Birmingham, a short tram to Birmingham airport and a Ryanair flight right to Dublin. It's worlds away from the travel days we used to dread back home; we got back on Sunday afternoon, still in high spirits, and watched that fantastic nail-biter of a hockey game to boot.

In the Gravity Bar

We stayed at the Brooks Hotel in Dublin. It's about twenty minutes from the airport, close to everything, with a great atmosphere. The staff were really friendly and the room had all the little extras you forget you love: turn-down service with chocolates, an antique radio playing local music as we entered (once the key was inserted in the wall switch -- I really like that idea), free newspapers, etc. And the breakfast, while extra at our rate, was well worth the price: traditional Irish breads, lots of spreads, cheese, fruit, and you could get a hot breakfast too; I went for the porridge with brown sugar and Irish whiskey a few mornings in a row. Yum! Speaking of whiskey, the bar has been recognized for its excellent selection, and included a daily recommended selection in the newsletter that was left as part of the turn-down service (just like a cruise, we both remarked).

In Dublin Castle

We spent most of the first day getting our bearings: we picked up the Dublin passes Tea had ordered for us on-line -- well worth it, incidentally, as most of the tours I'll mention here are free with it -- at the tourist information centre and then got on one of those hop-on-and-off bus tours; happily, it wasn't one of those audio ones, as both guys we had throughout the day had us in stitches. I really did feel like I was back in Newfoundland for a lot of the trip, and no more so than when a cabbie or tour guide was in the middle of a great story.

Along the Liffey

We finished that day off with a tour of the Guinness Storehouse. I'd recommend that tour to anyone; it's so well done, with whole floors dedicated to the John Gilroy ads, for example. And, of course, there's the tasting room, and the free pint at the Gravity Bar up top. They say that pint has been brewed no more than five days ago, and you really can taste the difference. Even Tea loved it! The restaurant is amazing too, by the way; we both had the beef and Guinness stew, which was absolutely delicious. We decided to walk back to the hotel along the river Liffey, which runs through the city; it really is a beautiful stretch of the place.

Tasting at the Old Jameson distillery

We slept in a bit on Friday and headed to the old Jameson distillery for a tour later in the morning. I actually enjoyed this one a bit more than the Guinness one. The replicas of the equipment used when it was a working distillery, the amazing bar, and the multilingual tour guides -- one of the other tours that was in the bar with us at the end was a French group, and the guide's accent was perfect! -- combined to edge out the Guinness one, for me. Thanks to Tea, I knew to put my hand up right away when the call for tasting volunteers went out. They sit you in front of a measure of Johnnie Walker Black Label, one of J. D., and one of Jameson and ask you to pick your favourite. Believe it or not, I'd never had J. D. before that moment, and found the woody, flowery notes in it to be... really odd, to be honest; I can see why some people don't drink it straight. Anyway, you get a certificate with your name on it afterwards, and it's just a lot of fun; I was up there with men and women from Sweden, France, Norway, the U.K. and Spain; those moments remind you just how different these vacations are -- when's the last time you weren't surrounded by Americans on vacation?

The food emporium

After that, we tracked down the food emporium that Tea had read about: well, they had all sorts of tasty cuisine there, but we couldn't get the fish and chips that we'd smelled as we came in out of our heads. It was so good! And the coffee shop there is excellent too -- can't comment on whether it's the best in Dublin, though. (A claim we'd read during our research.) Then it was off to Trinity College to see the Book of Kells. This was a highlight for Tea for a number of reasons, including the academic tour group that we tagged along with through the main exhibition and the breath-taking Long Room; it was truly humbling, being in the presence of those books, and all that human history.

In St. Patrick's Cathedral

Saturday morning was spent on a couple of tours: first up was St. Patrick's Cathedral, a truly awesome sight, inside and out. Jonathan Swift was a Dean there, so amongst the many exhibits is a bust of him. Then we went on a fantastic tour of Dublin Castle; our guide was very well informed and entertaining -- something you often fail to appreciate 'til you've had a mediocre or poor one. The many viceroys throughout the colony's history, including Thomas de Grey, Second Earl de Grey, brought to mind the similarities in our two countries' pasts (even though the De Greys were no relation to the Earls Grey, including our Albert Grey).

It was down to the Temple Bar area after that, which we'd walked through before, but hadn't spent any time in. There was great live music, even in the middle of the afternoon, so we enjoyed a few pints over some cribbage. Then we finished up the trip at an excellent Thai restaurant, of all places, later that evening.

Telford trip

Tea at Cheltenham station
As you may have seen on Facebook, Tea and I went to a wedding in Telford last weekend; we basically spent a day or so unpacking, and then it was off to catch a train. (We're much farther along as I type this, of course; the guest room is still a bit of a mess, but the other rooms are coming together.)


That's Welsh along the bottom
Taking the train worked really well. I'll just take a moment to highlight parts of ride there and back:

1. I hadn't really thought about how close we are to Wales 'til I saw the signs on the train (see right).
2. On the first leg to Birmingham, we both commented on how roomy the seats were; turned out we were in the elderly seating, for lack of a better term -- we couldn't recall any dirty looks from passing seniors, thankfully -- and found ourselves in more typical seating for the final leg to Telford.
3. Just before the train left Birmingham, two kids hopped on and started acting a bit strangely; almost like they wished they could melt into those last seats on the last car. Any time anyone in a uniform walked by, they pretended to be sleeping. Anyway, when it came time to present our tickets, I caught something out of the corner of my eye that Tea couldn't confirm: it looked like they couldn't produce any tickets, and that, as a result, the official had snatched the closer kid's backpack off his lap and left the car (presumably to stow it in the back of the train). I found myself wondering if it was now collateral or something. Either way, the kids seemed to cut their losses in Telford, leaving the train as fast as they could.
4. To jump ahead a bit, on the ride back we saw someone buy their ticket on the train -- from the ticket-punching gentleman -- so, presumably, those two kids didn't have any money either.
5. Finally, on that same train -- Telford to Birmingham this time -- we had to stand in that space outside the seating area of the car because it was so busy. We'd heard about the spotty train service on Sundays -- there's a legendary story about a train being cancelled because the wrong kind of leaves were on the track -- but their using a three-car train versus the typical four-car one was the only problem we encountered. Well, that and the prize-winning rabbit we were sharing that small space with. That's right: big flowery first-prize ribbon on the carrying case like I've only seen in the movies; some farm show or other. Anyway, suffice to say that I've confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'm extremely allergic to them now, as I was starting to have difficulty breathing as we pulled into Birmingham. Luckily we got seats on the final leg home -- next to a family with a dog, as good as could be under the little table between them; he was pretty big too. I love how animal friendly everything is over here.

Robbie's neighbourhood


Maggie, Ellie and Lola (up front)
Tea's two uncles -- one who was visiting from Newfoundland (Mick), and one who lives in Telford and was the father of the groom (Robbie) -- met us at the train station. It was a short walk to the hotel bar across the parking lot, where the men were awaiting the arrival of the ladies. A few rounds later, they arrived, and with barely a word, whisked Tea away for the rest of the evening. Then it was off to Robbie 'n' the boys' local (pub) for more rounds. I tried my darnedest to buy one, but it seemed like every new face that showed up: a) knew Robbie 'n' the gang, and b) knew what we were all drinking and had it expertly balanced in their hands. It was a fight to pay for the cab home, which was Robbie and Tea's aunt's home, incidentally; they put us and others up -- so many, in fact, that they actually moved next door for the two nights. Salt of the earth, these people; we had such a good time. (They also have two beautiful dogs, two cats and they were looking after the bride and groom's dog, Lola, as well as someone's snake -- it was a zoo!)


Ironbridge Power Station
We had a great time at the wedding as well. The ceremony and reception were both held at the beautiful Telford Golf and Spa Hotel. The grounds and the surrounding countryside were simply breathtaking; I found my eyes wandering out over it again and again as we first sat outside before the ceremony, and later went out for pictures.

I'll finish this up with a few somewhat random observations:

• There seemed to be a lot more drinking than dancing going on at the reception, but I've since been told that that depends on the personalities involved (much like back home) as opposed to anything particularly British.
• The music was nearly identical to what you'd hear at a similar occasion back home, with the exception of very few slow songs -- and, man, was it loud, which probably contributed to the crowd at the bar outside the hall (see my first point).
• 'Hats' are such a big deal here! I put that in quotes because they're often simply a small collection of feathers sticking up on one side of the head or some similar arrangement that provides absolutely no protection from the elements or any other hat-like function, as I see it. (Tea was also shocked by the number of women in stilettos; Robbie said even his sister's slippers have a heel. :-) )
• Finally, that golf ball to the right was the main prop in a game that apparently started on the stag: basically, if you find it in your pint, you have to down it in a go, but then you control the golf ball. Robbie got it so many times that he eventually had to retire it -- hence the 'prison' in the picture -- that, and many of his potential victims started buying bottled beer to avoid it -- but my favourite story about the golf ball involved Lee, a brother of the groom: he came into the hall with a couple of pints, and Steve, a good friend of Robbie's, plunked it in one of them before Lee knew what hit him. Being a good sport, Lee handed the clear pint to Steve and proceeded to slam back the other, and, in the blink of an eye, recovered and fired the ball into the pint Steve was holding... for him. :-D Steve said the look on Lee's face was priceless.

Oh, and there are lots more pictures of the weekend in a separate album, if you're interested.