Exeter Cathedral

I went to the Exeter cathedral a couple of weeks ago and it was fantastic!


It was your run of the mill cathedral built ages ago out of stone blocks that make modern backs ache just looking at them with nice, although not awe inspiring stained glass and rows of wooden benches equipped with cushions for your sit down, stand up, kneel routine... and the ceiling was very cool.





The thing that made the whole experience so awesome, however, was the gigantic, beautiful pipe organ in the back and the fact that the choir was practicing. The sound of the choir resonated through the cathedral like well tuned thunder. It was absolutely beautiful.

The Roads

People in England drive on the wrong side of the road, and when I say “wrong side of the road,” I don’t mean on the side of the road opposite to what Americans are supposed to drive on. No, when I say “wrong side of the road,” what I mean to say is the side of the road opposite to what the English are supposed to drive on.

They drive everywhere; the correct side of the road, the wrong side of the road, off the road and sometimes half on the sidewalk (assuming there are no people using it at the time).

This is, of course, not only standard, but an absolutely necessary method of driving.

The reason for this seemingly insane method of driving is that upon construction of the vast majority of the towns, villages and cities, parking was not planned for, so people just park in the road. The town and village streets are usually crowded by vehicles parked all along them in either direction, causing one direction or the other, sometimes both, to be mostly blocked by parked cars. This causes cars to be forced into either the opposite lane of where they should be or the middle of the street and leads to the necessity of “giving way” and “being patient” (something I’ve recognized a lack of in the driving etiquette of Americans).

I have drawn this to give you an idea of what I’m talking about:

As you can see, this set up would create absolute chaos and serious road rage in the US. However, here in the UK, drivers are shockingly polite, patient drivers who don’t seem to understand the rhyme or reason for road rage. They also, in general, drive small cars, not like the oversized gas guzzlers that Americans tend to drive, so that helps a lot. During rush hour, of course, the politeness wears a bit thin, but for the most part, driving etiquette is absolutely fantastic!

The streets, cars and people all mesh into this kind of rhythmic, singular existence with its own nervous system, breath and pulse, working together toward the same goal of getting to where they need to go in the easiest, most polite manner possible; Drivers are very polite: they give way, say “Thank You” in the forms of flashing their lights, waving, and alternating blinkers four or five times, they wait their turns and follow the driving guidelines set down by the collective consciousness of all drivers… it’s Searle all over, and it’s really, really cool.

Somehow they all manage to drive quite quickly along these twisty little roads and not kill each other or themselves. It's pretty impressive, actually... and sometimes a little frightening.

The roads are categorized by size, use and quality in the following order:

· Motorways: These roads are similar to the Florida Turnpike or I75 (I hesitate to equate them to I95 because the Motorways are generally of much better quality). They are numbered M1 thru > M65

· Junctions: These are more or less exits leading to roundabouts which cut off into various A roads; they are labeled J followed by one, two or three numbers.

- Roundabouts: Circular drives that have various exits on them for different roads leading in different directions; the normal method of directing traffic in England. You give way to the right.

· A Roads: A roads are roads that have a lot of use and are of very good quality and a usually large width. They are named "A" followed by three or four numbers (ex. A1234) and are often “Dual Carriageways.”

- Dual Carriageway: Dual Carriageways (usually pronounced “Jueal” or “Jool” Carriageways) are two lane roads that are not typical English roads. Dual carriageways are divided by a grass median.

· B Roads: B roads are commonly used roads of good quality and a width usually large enough to generally accommodate two vehicles .

· C Roads: C roads are well used roads of fair quality and a width usually too small to accommodate any two vehicles at the same time; one vehicle usually must pull to an intentional indent in the side of the road to give way to another vehicle.

· Lanes: Lanes are very small roads of generally poor quality often comprised of highly compacted dirt and a width lacking any trace of a dream of accommodating more than one car at a time... and sometimes barely that. Usually has intentional indents incrementally shaved on the sides to allow one car to pull over while the other cautiously scrapes through.

The paved roads are made of "Tarmac," which is similar to Asphalt, but much more porous to accommodate the large quantities of rain they are doused with all the time. They collect a lot of water and need to be salted and gritted when the temperature is expected to be below freezing; it is considerably softer than Asphalt too, causing trucks (lorrys) to leave tire marks when it is “hot” (a temperature similar to an Austin, TX 88 degrees, which is actually quite nice).

So far I haven't been killed on any of these roads or lanes or anything, although I hear that "black ice" is a very dangerous thing that I have yet to experience.
Guess I'll find out.

Off to See the Wizard

Weather conditions were rainy and very windy all over the country a few days ago, producing a tornado in London. There were almost 100 MPH winds and it lasted about a minute, causing damage to several buildings on one street, removing one wall and injuring six people. Some people were displaced and made to stay elsewhere until the area was deemed safe enough for them to return, until someone repaired the damaged roofs and until the one family got another wall. It was all over all of the national and local radio stations, and there seemed to be a general feeling of panic and disbelief that such a tragic thing had happened. One radio reporter was in the area conveying the terrifying event to listeners, telling them about the cars that had been flipped on their sides and the bricks that were littering the street; at one point, I giggled.

It’s not that I find tornadoes funny, I don’t; they’re mean things that spring up out of no where and often pack so much deadly energy and force that entire towns are leveled and hundreds of lives shattered or lost, remnants of a previous existence scattered for miles. Who wants to live in an area called “Tornado Alley?” I sure as hell don’t! Christ… “Looks like tornado weather today… keep a lookout. I’ll pray you don’t get impaled by debris flying around at hundreds of miles per hour. Good luck!”

This is something we as Americans are generally accustomed to, though, because Americans have grown up with various types of natural disasters causing various levels of destruction, death and trauma, preparing us for the impact of hearing that New Orleans was wiped out by a Category 5 hurricane and that thousands of people were killed, or that a highly populated city in California was swallowed up by an earthquake, etc, etc. When a tornado like the one that occurred in London the other day happens somewhere in the US, it is seen as an annoyance and barely gets mentioned in the local evening news.

However, from what I could tell from the radio broadcasts the other day, if you’re not brought up living with it in your country, as something that is discussed and accepted as something that is going to happen and possibly affect you or someone you know, the concept of natural disasters is absolutely terrifying.

Apparently natural disasters are not something that the English are even remotely accustomed to dealing with. As it turns out, poisonous / dangerous animals and insects and natural disasters are not something that exist in England, and, in general, the people are not completely aware of and are afraid of those things. So, when a tornado (I learned that approximately 30-40 per year are normal, just not in populated areas) strikes and messes up some roof tops and houses and scatters some bricks around, even though no one was seriously injured or killed, people get all nervous and upset because it is highly unusual and may give the impression that the world is coming to an end.

England has no earthquakes, hurricanes, volcanoes, sand storms, or threat from tsunamis, and tornadoes are small and far and few between; they have no frightening looking, big, scaly reptiles with teeth and the ability to swallow small children whole, nor are there deadly spiders or bugs or snakes or anything of the sort -- the most frightening critters they have lurking about here are foxes, and they’re pretty damn cute.

Thus, the English carry on, day after day, with no thought, not even in the most remote recesses of their minds, of even the possibility of an encounter at any point in time with any critter or natural occurrence that might possibly endanger their well being, leaving them with the tendency to describe a small, one minute long tornado producing 100 mile per hour winds as “something out of The Wizard of Oz.”

Xbox go Boom!

So, electrical sockets have a higher voltage over here.

I said, "Do you speak-a my language?" He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich.

"Ello mate! Ow'd you get on at tha club de'oder night?"
"Oh, mate, it was arrible! Absolutely arrible."
"Why-i, wat'appened?"
"Well id wen like dis..."

I had a chat enna laugh with a few birds thru tha night, an then chatted and danced the rest u'tha night with this bird I enned up goin'ome wit. I was pissed. Well pissed, caus mate, thaut bird was mingin. We got a taxi back to my place, caus I din't realise she was a minger caus I was well pissed an took'er'ome anyway.

Well we got back'a my place en we star-ed gettin off in tha lounge when I erd me mum get up.
So real quiet we snuck inna my room en star-ed gettin off again. Well I got tha bird's trousers and top off en was workin for her pants, but then she weren't doin anythin anymoor caus she'd gonna sleep! So I woek'er'up, we kep gettin off, an then we star'ed shaggin, an mate, she might'a been a minger, but she was a good shag.

Well righ'afta we got don, she fella'sleep again and I couldn get er up mate, so in tha mornin me mum wobbled in an saw us there an had a laugh an a giggle at me minger I brought home, an when the bird finnaly woke up at half two me mum asked er to stay for tea!

Well er name turned out to be Margret, Margret tha minger, an Margret jus thought it would be love-lay to stay for tea. Me mum made pastar for tea an served profit-a-rolls an cream for puddin, it was gorgeous, then tol Margret it was love-lay havin'er for tea an gave me 20 quid to take er out'tha pub!

So I take er t'tha pub on tha way back tha club t'get'er'ca, an I bring'er to tha leas populat-ed arear in there an there's Alice with some'r mates all sittin right there. They take the piss out me an have a laugh an a joke at my expense, I neck me pint an drag Margaret out there an back'tha'club ta drop er at er ca. Well on tha way t'tha club, this lorrie almos its us on tha jeul carriage way, an Margaret screams er bloddy ead off an I staa-t shakin caus she's yellin so loud mate. Then Margaret feels bad she's shaken me like'at an she starts pettin me hair an tellin me nice things, an I fall for it like a muppet.

So we staa-t gettin off and en she staa-ts noching me off an she's really good mate, an we en'up shaggin again, en by tha time I get'er back'er'ca, she's got me telly nummer en is already ringin me ta be sure it's good. En now I been shaggin'er all week an it's like I'm an addict, mate, en I can'tstop. She been oer'f'tea twice since! I donnow'what'a'do cause she's really sweet and really good and she's a great shag an I really like er, but she's a minger mate... I mean a real minger.

So das'why I came'ere.
Oh mate... les get a pint.