Bibliophile Awareness - 24 July 2011

Sundays are always lovely because we get to take things a little bit slower than usual, at least until church is over. I love the ward we are attending in Cardiff. Everything is the same but different. It's figuring out what makes things different that is interesting.

After Sacrament meeting we left for Castell Coch. In English, the name means the Red Castle and it was, as expected, red. (I'm holding out for the place that names itself the color it is most definitely not - wouldn't that be the best joke?) It is a small castle, lavishly decorated in a mishmash of Victorian and medieval styles. This was done because it was a summer home of the Third Marquis of Bute who was a Pre-Raphaelite that financed the restoration of most of the castles in Wales including Castell Coch. I was told that numerous weddings take place at Castell Coch and I could see why. It was like a mini fairy tale.

The next stop was yet another castle. If you are starting to get all my castles confused that's okay. So am I. I've said this before - Wales has more castles than any other country and I'm seeing not even close to all of them. Caerphilly Castle is unique because of its expansive moat system. It is the largest castle in Wales, and arguably the second largest in Europe. We only had a short time there so I zoomed through, going up and down every stairway that wasn't blocked off. It was massive, not in hight but in ground space. The castle just seemed to sprawl out all over.  While we were there a wedding was being set up and I couldn't think of a better venue. But I can't help but wonder what that would cost. I'm guessing a lot. While I liked Caerphilly I don't think I would put it at the top of my favorites list. It was so large that taking a good photo of the whole castle was impossible and it was missing some of that ancient history sparkle that some of the other castles seem to radiate. I think this is because the castle was so big it was hard for me to imagine people, families, individuals living there.

The wedding in the Great Hall

The Leaning Tower of Philly

After Caerphilly we took a drive through the Brecon Beacons to a small town called Hay-On-Wye. The Brecon Becons are a mountain range in Wales. However, a mountain in Wales is a foothill in the rockies. Still I think it was through the valleys and hills that I got a better sense of what Alexander Cordell called "the fair country." The Brecons are made up of stunning grassy hills occasionally covered with a rippling forest or bordering a crystal clear blue lake. The road winds in and out of these valleys and now and again you get a peak of a small hamlet tucked away in the beauty.

Hidden in the Brecons is Hay-On-Wye which, succinctly, is a bibliophile's paradise. Hay-On-Wye is the used book capitol of the world. It has more used book shops than in any other place. The whole town is built on this premise. Each book shop has a different speciality. Some will only sell books that are so old, some only children's books, some only horror, some only poetry, and so on. I particularly loved the bookshop in Haycastle. I loved walking up into the courtyard of the castle and seeing the shelves of books that had been propped up against the walls and covered from the sun. They set it up this way because the Hay Castle shop works on an honesty policy meaning if you want to buy a book then you just put your money in the box on the wall. Between all the bookshops (which make up practically every other store on a street) is a clothing boutique, art gallery, or antique shop. I don't know if I can describe the relaxed and book-loving attitude. I found a few, very cheap books and a 1923 print of a work by Arthur Rackham. I owe Hannah a special thanks for showing me his stuff. He is genius and captures the spirit of fairytales and childhood.

Hay Castle Bookshop

Murder and Mayhem - The Horror bookshop

A lovely children's bookshop - my dream job

Since visiting Hay-On-Wye I've adjusted my life plan. I'm going to go to graduate school in librarianship at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver but make sure that I do a book preservation track as well. Then, with my Canadian passport I am going to go on an extending working-holiday to Hay-On-Wye where I will read and fix and cherish books all day long. It will be magical.

By the time we were ready to leave Hay-On-Wye (if the shops hadn't closed I would never have been ready) it was around 5:30 in the evening. One thing about Wales that can be very frustrating is that basically everything closes at that time. We stopped in Hereford (as in Hartford, Hereford, and Hampshire where hurricanes hardly happen) to try and catch the cathedral there open but it is currently underconstruction. I saw a beautiful public library and found a nice, and by nice I mean strange, metal plate in the grounds of the cathedral so Hereford turned out to be a stop well worth my time.

The library

The cathedral

Strange

Luckily there were a few more castles in the area that had free admission and no closing time. I liked the castles at Skenfrith, Gwyn, and Grosmont because they were small and untouristified, if I may be so bold as to make up a word. Grosmont was my favorite of the three partially because of its gross name and also because the setting sun reflecting off the stone walls was really pretty.

Skenfrith

Gwyn

Grosmont

We finished off the day by attempting to teach Hannah how to heel-click in the grassy courtyard of Grosmont Castle. She'll get it eventually I'm sure. It did take me the better part of a year to get good at it. Now I can confidently show off my heel-click without fear of failure. But more to the point, the chance to laugh and jump and play and tease was a good for all of us and just the right way to end another spectacular adventure in Wales.

Merry Ole England - 23 July 2011

When most people think of England they think of Merry Ole England which some academics call the Southern Metaphor. They imagine lush and painstakingly planned-to-be-wild gardens, thatched cottages, cobblestone lanes, afternoon tea, rolling green fields, and cheerful, friendly people with classy accents. While this image isn't wholly conclusive of Southern England, for what I saw Saturday it is a pretty good fit.

First we hit some more Celtic sites namely Avebury Ring, Silbury Hill and West Kennet Long Barrow Down. the Avebury Ring is a group of massive stones arranged in many circles. Some have been shaped and some have not. The use of these rings remains unknown. While there, we ran across a man who told us that this was the best place to meditate and if we were interested we could buy a map of the rocks and what their powers were from him. Some stones, he said, connected you to your previous selves. Another stone assisted you in sending love across the universe to anyone. Although I didn't buy a map, I did attempt to meditate on one of the rocks. I definitely connected to the earth before I bust up laughing.

My special, contemplative friend

Silbury Hill is an ancient, man-made burial mound created almost 5,000 years ago. It was so large - about the same size as the Great Pryamid of Giza. What people were able to accomplish centuries and centuries ago continues to amaze me! Unfortunately the giant structure is "delicate" and we were not permitted to climb it or else I would have, for sure.

At West Kennet Long Barrow Down I wished that I was shorter and had hairier feet because the place practically screamed Lord of the Rings. It doesn't help that everywhere we go is some sort of "Shire". For those of you who have actually read the books and not just cheated and watched the movies (This is no diss on the films. I love them. But you can't be a true fan - or fully understand this next part without having read the books.) your ears should perk up when you hear of "Barrow Downs". These ancient burial chambers are one of the hobbits first adventures as they flee from the Shire. The West Kennet downs were impressive as well. It looks like an elongated bump in the land but once you get up closer you see a doorway framed by massive monoliths. And then you go inside and see rooms held up entirely by those same sort of huge rocks. And then you realize you are standing in someone's grave. It's eerie and exciting all at the same time. Compared to the hobbits', my experience at the Downs was much less harrowing and dangerous but I enjoyed myself all the same. It's just funny to me that Frodo, Sam and I were all with someone named Tom at the Barrow Downs.

Next we took a windy drive through the country side and some quaint towns until we reached the pinnacle of pagan druidic mysticism. Stonehenge. I can't describe how badly I have ached to see and experience Stonehenge. I had been prepped by Tom, Susan and Hannah that it might be a bit of a disappointment because we would not be allowed to wander among the henges themselves, just perambulate around with the other hundreds of people there to marvel and wonder. But I didn't care. There was a huge crowd and we couldn't get very close but it was still fantastically awe-inspiring. Sitting on top of a wide green plain and framed by nothing but the sky, Stonehenge is beautiful. I was and still am at a loss for words about how looking and seeing and experiencing Stonehenge made me feel. When we got back into the car I told Susan that I needed a poem because normal speech wouldn't suffice. Cheesy and dramatic but true.

 

After Stonehenge we traveled to the town of Salisbury to see Old Sarum, a Church and the Cathedral. Old Sarum is basically a dual-level, dual-moat hill that once held the castle, cathedral, and town of Salisbury until about 1200 A.D. It was nice to walk around, look at the old foundation of the cathedral and watch the vikings reenactment actors milling about.

The Church of St. Thomas was a very pretty, ornate building. It's most memorable feature to me was the tall columns and the lid of the baptismal font. It was suspended from the ceiling on a chain that was connected to a counter-weight and wound through a double-pulley system. This made it light and easy to lift even though it probably weighed as much as I do. (That's an exaggeration but it would be very heavy.) I mostly just appreciated the cleverness that went into creating that small system.

Then it was off to Salisbury Cathedral. This cathedral is famous because it has the tallest spire in all of Europe. A grand total of 404 feet folks! And it was tall, so tall it looked crooked. The funny thing at the cathedral was these random sculptures of modern, generic people had been placed on the exterior, the interior and in the gardens. I still don't know why they were there. On a side note, I really liked the city of Salisbury. It was clean and picturesque with colorful shops and a slow winding river in the middle of downtown that was filled with swans.

The tallest spire on a cathedral in Europe. Sorry it is such a dark picture.

Then finally we went to that beautiful tourist trap that is the town of Bath. Bath is everything England ought to be in the mind of a Jane Austen fan. I really felt as if we had stepped into one of her novels. (And at one point I literally stepped into one of the adaptations of Persuasion.) The gorgeous, golden, Georgian buildings lining every street rose high and classic above our heads. I loved the Circus, and the Royal Crescent but it was more an atmosphere rather than specific landmarks that made Bath so fabulous.

An overview of Bath

Where the kiss in the movie "Persuasion" takes place

The Circus

The Royal Crescent

After walking around a bit, taking note of the Jane Austen museum and visiting a few gift shops we walked down to Bath Abbey to listen to an Evensong. This was very relaxing. The Abbey is absolutely gorgeous and the sermon, mostly the music, was very pleasant to listen to. The music ringing in those stately halls was worth sitting on the stiff uncomfortable benches.

Then Neoma and I finally visited the attraction that gave the town its name, the Roman Baths. The rest of the group had already seen them in previous years and didn't want to pay again. I wasn't really sure what to expect and having no expectations I was completely blown away. The Baths were simply breathtaking. Before you see the Great Bath you are taken through a museum of sorts that show you finds of the excavation of the bath, as well as what an archeological dig looks like. I loved seeing all of the Roman artifacts that had been found there. Shoes, money, curses people had written on others for the gods, tools, just anything you can imagine. But more impressive was the engineering capabilities the Romans had! They harnessed natural hotsprings into a complex plumbing system and then built fabulous structures around them. I took about fifteen minutes to just sit on the edge of the Great Bath to do some people-watching and enjoy the atmsophere of the place in general. I dipped my fingers into the waters because they are supposed to be magical and I couldn't pass up the opportunity. The water was warm but gross looking. That is why I couldn't bring myself to drink some (purified of course) in the pump room. Apparently it tastes like...well poop, so I don't think I missed much. The springs were believed to have healing powers even before the Romans came. It is said that a Celtic prince inflicted with leprosy bathed in the waters/mud and was cured. I don't know if that is true but I like to think that it is.

 

Please take note of the huge crowd. We luckily went later when most had left so our wait was relatively short.

I think it's fair to say that Saturday we really were tourists seeing some very important major sites. I, personally, have absolutely no problem with that because it was one amazing day.

The Christians and the Pagans - 22 July 2011

For those who didn't know, Britain is filthy rich with Celtic and Roman history. This is why paganism seemed to be our traveling theme for this past Friday.

After finishing class, the group journeyed into the countryside to a small (ha!) cromlech at Tinkinswood. I loved the sound of that straight off. Tinkinswood. I can practically see the elves, faeries, and goblins holding a Midsummer Eve's gala there just by hearing the name. And the spot didn't disappoint. While I didn't see any magical beasties, I did see the burial chamber tucked away in a pretty glade, and it was impressive to say the least. The top stone alone weighs approximately forty tons!

  

 
We then traveled to another cromlech at St. Lyfans. This one was not as big but its location was just as good. Settled at the top of a small hill, this burial chamber looks out over rolling pasture land. In fact, a small herd of cows were resting right next to the ancient structure.

What was interesting about both of these structures is that we can never really know why they were built. Were they for the community leaders? The community in general? Human sacrifices? Each is a probable answer. It was strange to think that underneath those massive stones were people's graves with hidden stories to tell.

From then on we took a turn for the Christian and traveled to Beaupre Castle. This castle was interesting because it is a bridge between the fortified castle home and the open, fanciful manor home of the upper classes. This is made apparent by the lovely Renaissance porch and its lack of basic medival fortifications such as a moat, arrow slits and murder holes. My favorite part of this castle was having to walk through three or four fields to get there. I got a fresh, renewed feeling of peace and joy as I tromped over the countryside.

Next, we drove to a really beautiful Cathedral in Llandaff, a district of Cardiff. Although it wasn't open for the public during the hour we spent there, I still really enjoyed it. We walked around the catheral and admired the detailed architecture, lovely gardens, and I particularly loved the graveyard. Is it morbid to enjoy visiting old cemetaries? This one was special because if you walked down a little dirt path you came to the overgrown sections where the graves were covered with wild grasses and flowers. It was simply beautiful. I'm also pretty sure I found the bridge under which lives a troll who taxes passing goats.

So there you have it - the Christians and the Pagans. My version of course. For those interested here is Dar Williams'. The video itself is lame but the song is a good one and worth listening to.

Welsh Heritage Days - 20 and 21 July 2011

I saw behind me those who had gone, and before me, those who are to come. I looked back and saw my father, and his father, and all our fathers, and in front, to see my son, and his son, and the sons upon sons beyond. And their eyes were my eyes.

As I felt, so they had felt, and were to feel, as then, so now, as tomorrow and forever. Then I was not afraid, for I was in a long line that had no beginning, and no end, and the hand of his father grasped my father's hand, and his hand was in mine, and my unborn son took my right hand, and all, up and down the line that stretched from Time That Was, to Time That Is, and Is Not Yet, raised their hands to show the link, and we found that we were one . . .

from How Green Was My Valley written by Richard Llewellyn

As you can see from the quote above, the Welsh are very proud of their heritage. Over the past Wednesday and Thursday I got to experience a little piece of that legacy. 

It started with a big class trip to the Big Pit Mine, named so because it had the largest shaft than any other mine in Wales. Big Pit was closed in the early 1980s when Magaret Thatcher shut down hundreds of mines across Britian and denationalized the coal industry. What made this experience special for me was knowing the history of mining is Wales and England before hand. I had read about how thousands and thousands of people worked in the mines and depended on their pittance of a wage to take care of their families. I had learned about the dangers and horrible conditions. I had learned about how people were practically enslaved to the coal and iron masters. I had learned about the child labor and hard work men and women were tasked with. I had learned about tiny row houses. I had learned about the pitt ponies. I had learned about the constant state of filth. I had learned about the unavoidable health problems that came from a life time of mining. But I couldn't really understand or imagine it until I was there. We took a walking tour of the mine led by an ex-professional miner. He outfitted us with hard hats and headlamps, and then we were sardined into the elevator and taken down the shaft.

It was an enlightening experience (which is ironic because the mine was very dark). I stood in pitchblackness in the same places that six and seven year-olds stood in pitch blackness waiting for the sound of a dram. My hand was not even a quarter of an inch from my face and I still couldn't see it and those little children would sit in darkness like that for twelve hours at a time. I walked the paths the miners did, constantly ducking and hunching my back uncomfortably so I wouldn't hit my head. I saw how easily accidents could happen with the poor protections for the men underground. I saw the stalls the ponies were kept in waiting through the night in inky darkness until someone with a candle would come and lead them to another exhausting days work. I saw where father and son teams would work with pick-axes, chisels and hammers to free the coal and sort out the rubbish. They weren't paid if their dram wasn't sorted and clear of useless material. The unfairness and cruelty of the mining industry was so present in the mine. 

I can't say I'm not thankful for how everything has happened, because I am thankful. The mines of Wales and England were pivotal to the Industrial Revolution that transformed the world and helped bring us to where we are today. But I think it's important to not forget what those men, women and children sacrificed. They weren't trying to change the world. They were just trying to make a living and I can barely comprehend how they managed to do that in their circumstances.

On Thursday evening Susan and I had the pleasure of attending a rehearsal of the Cardiff Arms Park Male Choir. They were spectacular. This is not because of the quality of their music, but because of the amount of spirit they put into singing. Most of the men were somewhere between 50 and 70 but they acted and teased like naughty little boys. We met shouts of "Croeso!", "Good for you!" and "Well done!" when we announced that we were in Cardiff to study Welsh and so many of them wanted to visit with us and hear a bit more of our story (as well as speak Welsh) after the rehearsal. But most of all, I love them because they poured their hearts into every song they sung. You could see it radiating on their faces. 

There is a Welsh proverb attributed to Wilfred Wilson that goes "To be born Welsh is to be born privileged. Not with a silver spoon in your mouth, But music in your blood. And poetry in your soul." The men of the Cardiff Arms Park Male Choir embodied this in every single way.   

London Rain is Falling Down - 16 July 2011

Get up at 5:30 AM. Walk a couple miles to the bus stop. Ride on the National Express for three hours. Hello London.

This is one of the first things that greeted me:

This place definitely has its billboard priorities straight. We saw a huge 3-D billboard for Harry Potter but we whizzed by it too fast for me to take a picture, so just know that this awesome display is actually second best.

The morning was mostly spent charging past historical attractions and snapping pictures as quickly as possible. Here are a few in the order I saw them.

Buckingham Palace. Queen's home.

Mr. Cameron wasn't out watering his flowers and the security guards wouldn't let me use No.10's knocker.

The beautiful Westminster Abbey. I didn't go inside because of the line. Yes, you are looking at it.

Parliament building on the Thames. Big Ben is directly above my head. We were crossing that bridge just as it chimed noon. Lovely.

The Thames itself. For those of you who didn't know, the Thames is a brackish, tidal river.  Its water is a mixture of fresh and seawater that falls and rises throughout the day. Additionally, its banks are disgusting. My nasty, dirty shoes prove it.

Later, we pulled on our ponchos and raincoats to be groundlings at Shakespeare's Old Globe Theater. A groundling was someone who could only afford a cheap ticket and would stand in the middle of the theater, around the stage to watch a show. This is what we did - for almost three hours. My legs ached, especially after running around all morning! The theater itself was very impressive! I loved imagining Shakespeare himself coming out to great his fans in that great big, wooden octagon. I can't help but include some history. Shakespeare wrote his plays to appeal to the masses of common people. It is therefore logical that his theater was actually built on the "cheap" side of London, literally split by the Thames. I think seeing one of his plays in the 17th Century would have been a rowdier ordeal than what I experienced in the same building. I'm thinking I missed out. :)

Moving on, we arrived early enough that we stood right next to the stage. In the second picture below, the green and yellow ponchos are my group. The play we watched was very well acted, but a little raunchy. I guess I should have expected that from a drama fictionalizing the life story of Anne Boleyn.

I apologize for the blurriness of this picture. I was cold and shivering.

After the play it was back to charging through the streets. Literally. Tom is a very fast walker and I was feeling sick on top of soaked, hungry, stiff and tired. Overall, that made keeping up hard to do. Luckily, he was carrying a bright orange umbrella and the rain hardly ever let up, so even if I was 20 yards behind him (and others were behind me) I could still follow. Here are some of the things I looked at in the afternoon.

St. Paul's - The inside of the cathedral was breathtaking but we weren't supposed to take pictures. I am cursing my rule-abiding nature now. Anyways, the atmosphere there was spellbinding, especially so because the choir sent ringing music throughout the whole hall.

I can't even remember what this building is because we saw so many. Baha. Sorry.

Trafalgar Square with Admiral Nelson looking down on all of us. Unfortunately, he was cut out of the picture.

And finally, the church where Henry Higgins first meets Eliza Doolittle.  Be jealous.

Some other highlights included Winston Churchill's War Cabinet Rooms, Covent Garden, the West End (with all the theaters...), the National Portrait Gallery, World War I and World War II memorials, many flats Mick Jagger lived in, Charring Cross, the Princess Diana walkway, the famous statue of Boudica, the Tate Modern, the Millenial Bridge (destroyed by Death Eaters in the beginning of the movie, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince), and the Tower Bridge. 

And through all of this it didn't stop raining. My clothing was soaked but I couldn't wear my rain coat without sweating. The weather made this day a little hard to get through but looking back I couldn't have had the real London experience without it. So I'm glad - in a perverse sort of way.

Hoping your weather is better than mine,

Mariah