We set this up to keep in touch with people we may not see for awhile. So keep in touch. We'll try to keep this thing interesting and updated frequently.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Germany-Austria Trip Part I: Getting There

Matt and I recently returned from spending a week in Germany and Austria with our friend Keith. Here's what we got up to!

Part I: Getting There

August 17

As Matt has mentioned before, our friend from high school, Keith, was going to a work conference in Hanover and decided to take advantage of the free plane ticket and see more of Germany. Keith has visited us everywhere we have lived other than Iowa City. He visited us in Ireland, Washington D.C. and then London, and we took him to Cambridge on that visit. We have in turn visited him in Boston. Knowing that tickets to the continent from London are quite inexpensive, Keith invited us to come along with him to Germany. Luckily Matt did some freelance for Micky (of Micky and Julia) and it covered the cost of the plane ticket. Micky also recommended that we travel in the south of Germany rather than near Hanover or Berlin. So we got tickets to Munich in the region of Bavaria, famous for beer and sausages!

Unfortunately, the cheapest flights are also the earliest flights. Ours was for 6AM and there was no way for us to get to the airport in time to check in. Some friends of ours recommended that we go to the airport the night before and sleep there until our flight. Apparently this is very common and the airlines even let people check in for early morning flights after 8PM the night before. The thing to do, our friends said, is go and see a late movie in town, then take a late train from Victoria Rail Station to Gatwick Airport, check in and find a place to rest your head until your flight.

Turns out that this does not work very well.

We did indeed see a late movie, The Time Traveler’s Wife (which we cannot highly recommend, though we both liked the book very much), and took the bus to Victoria Rail Station. Unfortunately we did not know that for security purposes they close the station at night and only let people in 15 minutes before each train which leaves once an hour. We got there at an awkward time and had to wait outside, on a rather cold, drizzly night. There were many other people there, some of them asleep on the ground, using their bags as pillows.

Now, the thing about London Rail Stations at night is you are never short of a few homeless drunk people. This night was no exception. One rather crafty fellow sat casually beside a sleeping traveler and after a few moments, kicked his bag out from under his head. The sleeping man did not wake up. So the homeless guy started rummaging through the bag. Matt and I observed all this and before he could dig too deep, Matt called a security guard who woke up the sleeping man and told the drunkard to be off!

After that excitement, it all went downhill. One long train ride and we were at Gatwick Airport. We went to check in and found… no one manning the desks and about 50 other people on Aer Lingus flights camped out on the floor by their check-in desks. So we had no choice but to join them.

By now it was around 3:30AM and we had not yet slept. About an hour later, they started checking people in. An hour later, we were in the duty free shopping area having had no sleep and with only an hour until our flight boarded. We got no sleep other than what few minutes could be snatched during different stages of waiting.

When we arrived in Munich we were completely exhausted.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Off To Austria and the Deutschland

Grace and I are heading off on an 8-day trip to Munich and Austria this week, so blogging will be light (shock! gasp!). We actually get into Munich on Tuesday at 9:25 a.m, but backing that up means we have to leave London Gatwick at 6:10, which would mean we would need to get to the airport by 4:30 a.m. The tube isn't even running at that time, so we would have to take a night bus into the train station (one hour) and then catch a train to the airport. All told, we would probably be getting up at 2 a.m.

So, instead, we're going to pack up tomorrow and head out to a late night movie. We'll head down to Gatwick at midnight or so, and spend what is sure to be a rough night in the airport. This will be my first overnight at the airport, but my workmates do it all the time. This is the price of getting cheap tickets.

This trip came about because our friend Keith, fast becoming our international traveling buddy, is going to a conference in Hannover, Germany. He decided to extend his stay for a week, and we're joining him. When we started we knew only three things about tourism in Germany: Hitler, Beer and the Autobahn. But we've asked around, done the research and now we're positively thrilled to go. It soon became clear that we shouldn't go to Hannover, and we instead settled on the Southern part of Germany, the land of the Alps, beer gardens and crazy castles.

With that in mind, we fly into Munich on the morning of the 18th. While there, we do plan to partake in the famous beer gardens, but also the museums - art, science and BMW. Then, on the morning of the 22nd, we rent a car from Avis and head south into Austria, probably stopping at castle Neuschwanstein enroute. We'll be staying two nights in a tiny Austrian mountain village to do a bit of hiking in the Alps. Then, on the morning of the 24th, we head off to Salzburg, for one day. On the 25th (Grace's golden birthday!) we drive back to Munich and depart in the evening. The next day, I have the day off, to ease the transition back to work.

So, for now, auf wiedersehen!

Thursday, August 13, 2009

In Defence of British Healthcare

Matt


There's been a lot of debate in the US about healthcare, and a lot of scare stories about socialized medicine. I'm not even there and it's all I hear about. Even the British newspapers and the BBC are covering it. A large segment of America seems to think that healthcare outside the states is run like a soviet prison camp or something. One American newspaper even reported that disabled people like Stephen Hawking are seen as too expensive to care for over here, and left to die, which is strange since Hawking was still teaching at Cambridge last time I was there.

So, as an American living in Britain, I just want to say to panicked people over in my homeland: calm down. The UK has one of the most 'socialist' healthcare systems in the world - the government runs the hospitals, the doctors, the nurses, the whole works. But if I'm living in a socialist country, then the cold war was much ado about nothing. Calm down.

Let me tell you about our experiences here. The worst experience was when Grace had a very painful ear infection. It was 10 o'clock on Friday night and we realised Grace could not wait until her Monday morning appointment, because the pain was so bad. We called our doctor's 24 hotline, where someone took basic information on Grace's symptoms and said the doctor on call would phone us in 4 hours. They were late, and the phone didn't ring until 4 a.m., by which time we were in bed and Grace in misery. We set up an appointment for 8 a.m. the same day. Four hours later we got up, and Grace walked to the hospital down the road. Grace went to the wrong waiting room by accident, which caused some delays, but she was seen in 20 minutes. Her appointment was perfunctory and she was through in 10 minutes. After that we walked down to the pharmacy, and picked up her medicine. I think we paid 14 pounds, which we could get reimbursed later.

She had a rough week with the earache. The antibiotics made her throw up. When this happened, we called the doctor's 24 hotline again, and once again someone took our basic information. The doctor called us a few hours later. He told Grace to stop taking the oral antibiotics and rely on the ear drops. Grace stopped throwing up. She got better.

In general, it sounds like non-life-threatening things that happen at weird times - at night or on the weekend - are the ones where you will have the most trouble, and our experiences with the painful earache backed this up. We did have to wait a very long time. But how much faster would we have been seen in the USA?

Another story, on the same lines. My co-workers' wife burned her hands picking up a pan from the oven. She ran her hands under cold water for a long time, but woke up in the middle of the night with horrible pain. They went to the A&E (accident and emergency) room, where they stayed up half the night. My co-worker took the morning off, because he got no sleep.

But outside that time, Grace and I have had no problems. Regular check-ups are on time and quick. No one I've ever met has had a problem with the NHS that outstrips the kind of inconveniences you face in any endeavour, in the US or the UK. No one I've ever met has told me about someone they knew who had problems worse than the usual hiccups you sometimes get in any system of healthcare. And I've lived here three years now. And I've talked to people whose parents needed major operations - cancer, surgery, pregnancy. There's never been a problem with the provision of healthcare.

Sometimes you do read about horror stories in the news. People who are denied experimental care that is unproven and expensive. Or people who are denied a liver transplant after they poisoned their liver with alcohol and failed to sober up. But every healthcare system has its own horror stories. Private insurers deny people coverage for all sorts of dubious reasons. And there are always shortages of organ donors.

Finally, as far as I can tell, no one is proposing the US system goes within a mile of the pure socialized care provided by Britain. All that's being proposed is a government run insurer, along the lines of medicare, to compete with the private sector insurers, to help keep costs down, and a mechanism that voids the ability of insurers to deny coverage to people with pre-existing conditions.

The NHS is not perfect; there are delays for nonessential services, you are limited in your choice of doctor, it is a monopoly that quashes the private sector, and it's a constant struggle on the part of the government to balance costs and service. But the US system is hardly perfect either, as everyone knows. As a young married man without a ton of money, I would choose this system in a heartbeat though.

So, if you are panicked about socialised medicine, calm down. If you meet people who are panicked about socialised medicine, tell them to calm down. Tell them about us. We've been here three years. And it's fine.


Grace



Here is what I have to add about universal healthcare.

It seems like a lot of the discussion is being carried out from positions of ignorance about what it is like to live in a country with a universal care system. Let me tell you what it's like.

First, you have to recognise the constraints of the system. The NHS handles all healthcare for 60 million people. I won't lie, it's a busy system. But I don't think much is lacking in terms of the quality of care.

The National Health Service (NHS) is a national service, but it's administered by individual councils, usually defined by cities or counties. We live in London which is really big so our healthcare is administered by the borough we live in, Haringey. When you move into a new borough, you look up on the NHS website the surgeries (a group of doctors who set up a practice together) in your area. You decide which one you want to go to (whichever is closest). You go and register there by proving your address in the borough. They schedule you for an initial screening with a nurse who takes your medical history and talks about any ongoing treatment you're having. They transfer your medical records from your previous surgery. Then you're free to make routine appointments when they come up.

To make a routine appointment, it's as simple as ringing in and asking for the next available appointment. Every surgery does it differently. Our Haringey surgery has online appointment booking, which is very convenient.

When you register you are assigned to one doctor in the practice who oversees your care. But when you book an appointment you get it with whatever doctor is available that day and time. For routine appointments, such as check-ups, coughs and colds, does it matter that you don't see the same doctor? Not a bit. However, if you want, you can request to always see the same doctor. The focus in a universal care system is on preventative medicine. You can make as many appointments as you want. Matt has been to the doctor twice in the last three years. I've been more times than I can remember this year so far alone.

So, you show up for your appointment. Are they running behind schedule? Yes. But so do most of the American doctors offices I've visited. Appointments are for 10 minutes each, which seems like a short amount of time, but a.) you can schedule a longer appointment if you want and b.) most issues are taken care of in that time. You tell the doc what you need, what you want, what's wrong with you. You get your prescription, instructions are given, and you're off. That's it.

And guess what? Prescriptions are cheap, when you have to pay for them at all. Family planning prescription medications are all free. (Because birth control is cheaper than a lot of unwanted pregnancies.) Because of a medical condition that I have which requires lifelong treatment, I am exempted from paying for ANY prescriptions.

Man, this universal healthcare sure is a drag, isn't it?

What I'm trying to say here is that even though it is a busy system the quality of care is not much different from the US if you haven't got a major health problem.

If you've got an emergency or major health problem, it gets more involved. Like I say I have never had a major health problem. I did have an urgent medical problem with an ear infection, as Matt has detailed above, out of clinic hours and on a weekend. But, the NHS in our borough operates a phone line for non-urgent out of hours medical queries. You speak to an actual doctor, describe your symptoms and they tell you whether to go to A and E (accident and emergency) or schedule you an appointment for the next day in the A and E department. Let me tell you, when the doctor called me at 4AM (4 hours late) and told me I could have the first appointment of the day, was I upset? No, I was thanking god for the NHS. When my doc the next day gave me a prescription AND looked up the nearest open pharmacy for me, I was thanking god for the NHS.

A few months ago, there was an accident just outside our street where a car had crashed into a motorcycle. The motorcyclist was sprawled face down on the ground. A girl on a bicycle had stopped and was sitting next to him, talking to him to keep him conscious until the ambulance arrived. When I saw those flashing lights I thought, thank god for the NHS. When we're at home in the States, whenever I see an ambulance speeding to save someone I think, I hope that person has insurance because an ambulance ride costs a fortune. A helicopter ride is in the tens of thousands.

My point is that the NHS covers everyone for every medical treatment they need and no one has to worry about whether or not their insurance will cover this. You pay for this service through taxes, yes, but Britons spend less per person on health care. The emphasis on preventative care pays off. People have free access to what they need to prevent major health complications and detect medical problems before they require major treatments.

Now on to the policy side.

We all know that hospital bills from one illness or one accident can ruin you financially if you're uninsured, which 40 million Americas are. But how many are underinsured? The statistics consider you to be insured even if you can only afford the absolute bare minimum of insurance which doesn't even cover your chronic pre-existed conditions. People who think they have good insurance can be kicked off their insurance or denied coverage for just about anything. Someone please, please, please explain to me why I have to make a co-pay payment every time I go to the doctor? I thought the point of insurance was not to have to pay! The problem is that healthcare is operated in the States as a for-profit business. And in business, the bottom line is the bottom line. Insurance companies will do anything to get out of covering you and your health costs.

I think that healthcare should be seen as a public service, rather than as a commodity. The United States has the best health care you get in the entire world. If you can pay for it. And that I think is the problem. It is, in my opinion, simply immoral for some people to get better healthcare because they can pay for it. If you'll bear with me, I'll give you the rights perspective which I endorse. Obviously we all agree that the right to life is a fundamental right, certainly enshrined in our Constitution. Now healthcare is necessary to maintain life. So rights scholars believe that the right to life contains an implied right to healthcare. The state has an obligation to provide healthcare not just to people who can't afford it, but to everyone. And because the state also has the obligation not to discriminate they have an obligation to provide the same quality of care to everyone. This is basically the accepted understanding of the right to healthcare in Europe. Maybe that aspect of it is too legal, considering the lofty, intellectual debate that has been ongoing in the States about this issue (pfft). Anyway I think the profit motive poisons our healthcare system and I think it's immoral that access to healthcare in the States is dictated by individual wealth.

Now about the debate that is going on the States.

The hyperbolic rhetoric on this from the right is not only based in astounding ignorance, it is completely disconnected from reality.

First, this bill is not a step toward state-run healthcare (let alone socialism). In my opinion it further entrenches our private insurer system by forcing everyone to get insurance from somewhere, usually from private insurers. There is talk of a public option, but all indications are that part will be cut from the final bill.

Second, if you have insurance through your employer and you're happy with it, this bill will not significantly effect you. You will not have to 'give up' your doctor. Your wart removal procedure will not have to go before a death panel.

Third, there's a lot of talk about 'nightmare scenarios' in a universal care system, having to wait unusual amounts of time for procedures, not getting procedures because they're too expensive. First, this is clearly a case of overestimating the frequency of very uncommon occurrences. Second, I understand why the focus is on these but let's be one hundred percent clear: The private insurer system is full of nightmare scenarios too. I heard a guy talking recently about how his mother got ovarian and uterine cancer and had to get immediate treatment. Then the insurance company refused to cover her cancer treatments because they said it was a pre-existing condition even though she had never had signs of cancer before. She had to call them herself in the middle of chemotherapy to ask them to cover it. Okay, this guy was President Obama and this is how his mother died.

Nataline Sarkisyan, a Californian teenager, needed a liver transplant but her insurance wouldn't cover it because they considered it to be 'experimental'. The family went to the media about it and under pressure the insurer changed their mind, only a few hours before she died. Another woman in Texas was denied coverage of her breast cancer treatment because a typo made by her doctor years before gave 'misleading' information about her medical history.

You get my point. The difference is in a universal care system, if there is a screw-up of some sort someone is held responsible. If your insurance company decides it won't pay for a treatment you need in order to live, you have no recourse.

The biggest problem with the debate over these issues is that the Democrats have not been delivering their message clearly or effectively at all. I'm not sure what is required here, but I hope they get themselves in order. This is a good bill, even if it isn't a move toward universal care. I wish it was. But it's a good bill anyway.

Sunday, August 02, 2009

Friends and Bikes

As I wrote before each post about Scotland, July was a busy month. I had a lot of freelance to do, and we were short on cash, both because we had spent some of what we had on Edinburgh and because we had to save what was left for a trip to Germany, which is coming up in a bit over two weeks. So we didn't get up to much, especially on weekends, which were spent typing and researching in my case.

But, there were a few things. We had some friends from the US come over. The first was our cousin's boyfriend, who missed his connection at London Heathrow. We took care of him for a day, with Grace taking the afternoon off work to show him around the city.

One of my childhood friends and one of his friends also came over as part of a trip to Europe, and he stayed for a few days. Unfortunately, with all the work I had to do we could only see him a bit, but we had a great time catching up. The first night we took him and his friend to a Samuel Smith pub - great beer, great atmosphere at the cheapest prices in London. We followed that up with dinner out at an Ethiopian food restaurant (Ethiopian food rocks!). I think they were hoping to go out for longer, but alas, pubs in London close at 11 pm and 12 am, much to their shock (they're from New York, where apparently nothing closes before 3 am). I had to get to work the next day, so we said adieu. The next night, however, we saw them again. They came up for dinner at our place, and then we went to another pub, one that's older than the USA.

So that was pretty much the social highlight of July for us.

The other big news this month was I finally made the transition from bus to bike. I've been thinking about making the change for about a year. Most of the year, I take the bus into work. That means I get up at 6:45 and head out the door by 7:20 to get to the bus stop. I take one bus down the hill to Archway station, where I switch to another bus that takes me into the office. All told, I usually get into the office between 8:05 and 8:15, so it's a 50-55 minute door-to-door trip. The ride home usually takes longer, up to 90 minutes, because there is more rush hour traffic at 5 when I leave, than at 7:30, when I come in. It costs me about £55 per month for the monthly bus pass.

The obvious benefit of taking the bus is that you don't have to work, you know, at all. In fact, I used to sleep on the bus most mornings. It also gave me a chance to read books, though to be honest, I probably spent more time just staring out the window and listening to music, or reading the free tabloid papers they hand out after work. So there was that.

Now, the bike also has its advantages. It's free, for one. Plus, I get exercise (it's six miles from my flat to the office, and the way back has a monster hill). Plus, some of the buses have seats that are far, far too narrow for my enormous legs, pinning me into uncomfortable contortions for the 60-90 minute ride home. Finally, I thought it might be faster, especially on the way back.

Of course, the downside to the bike are that it's more dangerous, and that you have to plan ahead if you're going to get a drink after work, since you don't want to be cycling home inebriated.

But, one of my co-workers had a bike for sale, so I decided to go for it. The last two weeks now, I've been biking to and from work everyday (excepting a few). After two weeks on the road, here's what I can say.

-It's not really faster than the bus. That's because you have to factor in the 15 minutes necessary to take a shower after the six mile ride. I am too sweaty to even consider skipping that. We're talking pouring sweat here.
-Good exercise. The monster hill on the way home is particularly challenging. It comes in the last half mile, so you're already a bit tired from having biked 5.5 miles, and it is so steep. To be honest, I haven't made it up the hill yet. My bike has just five gears, so I have to stand on the pedals to force them around, and I just don't have the balance yet. But I've made it up 2/3 of the hill. Next week I'll conquer the whole thing.
-Traffic is not really a problem. I take back roads that are designated cycle friendly. That said, you do have to be way, way more alert than when you are biking out in Cambridge or on the sugarbottom road in Iowa.
-It makes a ton of dirty laundry. See the previous note about my copious sweating.

Grace also has a bike, but she hasn't been out on it yet. Hers was free - another co-worker of mine has moved out of the country, and donated her bike to Grace. We gladly accepted.

The other thing about biking in London is theft is a much higher probability. I was initially going to keep my bike outside, but my landlord said it would be gone in hours, no matter what kind of lock I bought. Meanwhile, the previous owner of Grace's bike advised me to take the front wheel and bike seat off and into the office with me if we locked the bike outside, because otherwise they would be stolen (it had already happened to her once).

Another anecdote about bike theft. Everyone at my office locks their bikes in front of the lobby, where there is a security guard stationed. One day, around 3 o'clock, somebody still tried to steal the bike, right from in front of the lobby in broad daylight, but the security guard caught her and called the police.

But still, I like it and I'm going to keep at it. I am worried, however, that my enthusiasm will flag as it get colder and darker. It's foolish to start this up in the summer - I'm being spoiled! But, we'll see how it goes.

Other than that, we're now looking ahead to August 18, when we fly to Munich. It's coming up fast!

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Trip to Scotland Part Seven: July 2 - July 5

Here is the final installment of Grace and I and my family's trip to Scotland...

On the morning of July 2, Grace and I said our goodbyes to my parents and sister, who left after breakfast. We were on our own again, just us and the cats.

We spent the first morning in Starbucks, reading some books and taking it super-easy – it was a really rainy day. After a long lunch we wandered over to the Royal Museum of Scotland. This museum is attached to the Museum of Scotland and is a collection of artifacts from around the world, dead animals, and other odds and ends. Or, at least I think it is. It was also closed until 2011 (again!). So we didn’t actually go in. Instead, we went back to the Museum of Scotland. We were half-heartedly checking out the stand-in exhibit for the Royal Museum of Scotland (sort of a ‘best-of’ collection stuffed into one room), but we weren’t really feeling it. Things were looking dull until we headed down to the basement, where there was an exhibit about the geology of Scotland which ended up being really fascinating. For instance, did you know that Scotland and England are parts of different continents? Well they are! No wonder they hate each other! They rammed into each other a long time ago, and the collision made a huge mountain range which has eroded over millions of years until all that was left was, wait for it, the highlands! Amazing!

That night, we went to see the Hangover. Laughs all around.

The next day, we got up sort of early... well, not as early as we would like... and boarded the train to Glasgow. Glasgow is actually the biggest city in Scotland, and it does feel like a more typical big city. It has a grid of streets, for instance, instead of Edinburgh's spaghetti mess of streets. Also, it's hilly. Surprising for us, as we have gotten used to flat old London.

Anyway, we arrived and headed off to see a contemporary arts museum, but on the way there, a bird pooped all over me (nasty brown poop too, not the white stuff), so we had to pop into a charity shop and buy a new t-shirt for me. It was a bit short, because I am tall.

By now it was closing in on lunch and we realised that we had not left early enough to do all there was to do in Glasgow. There were three art museums to see, an architectural tour and a cathedral, at least. And most importantly of all, we had to be done by three o’clock or so, so that we could watch Andy Murray play Andy Roddick at Wimbledon in a pub. This was a very big deal to us.

So we had to prioritise and we decided on taking a mini-trek out to see the famous Burrell Collection, because I had heard good things about it and it sounded very unique. In short, what it is, is the collected art and antiquities of one Mr. Burrell, a shipping magnate, who bequeathed his stuff to the public. However, he had a clause in the bequest that it had to be housed in a building in nature, away from the pollution of the city, which he apparently was not a big fan of. So the city just sat on the collection for a long time, until a suitable place was finally built in the 80s. It’s a beautiful modern building in the middle of a park some 16 miles from the centre of town. We took a ten minute train ride, and then had to walk another twenty minutes, most of which was down asphalt paths through parkland forest before we came upon this big glass building in a clearing. Right as it started to downpour.

We made it inside, where we had a good afternoon. Really, the best part about it was the building. You’re inside, looking at paintings, old sculptures, facades from cathedrals, and all the while, there are these giant glass walls that look out onto rainy grass and forest. Grace’s favourite bit were the four recreated rooms from Burrell castle... essentially they gutted four rooms of this guy’s castle and placed all the walls, floors, ceiling, furniture and odds and ends into rooms inside the museum, which is modern.

From Scotland 2009
Through the glass on the right, a recreated castle room. Through the glass on the left, nature.

From Scotland 2009
Grace likes this stuff.

From Scotland 2009
The cafe.

So, after we had seen it all, we had a bite to eat at the cafe, trying to wait out the rain, which failed. Eventually, we had no choice but to walk back to the train, and head back to central Glasgow, where it was still raining. After a bit of searching, we found a pub, and watched the game. It was a work day, it was four in the afternoon, I wasn’t driving and I was having a pint.

Murray lost, and Roddick won, much to everyone’s shock. Afterwards, Grace and I headed back home on the train to Edinburgh, where I spent a great deal of time researching where Grace and I should walk on our final full day in Scotland.

Next day: We decided to go to North Berwick Law, the place we had tried and failed to go to with Hannah. It’s a volcanic outcrop (actually, we learned from the Museum of Scotland geology section that it is, in fact, the dried and hardened lava from an ancient volcano’s tube... kind like a plug, or a cork from a wine bottle... and now that’s the only bit that’s left). It just sticks straight out of the plains around the seaside village of North Berwick. One of the attractions is that it has, on top, a whale jawbone (it’s tradition to have one up there...) and old forts from Napolean. Plus you can see Bass rock from there, which is another volcano plug that is now home to birds and birds. My walking around Edinburgh book said it was a short, steep climb that ‘really should not be missed.’ Most importantly, it was reachable by train.

We made the train this time with no trouble, except for some 30 kids who got on the train with us dressed in crazy costumes. They were going all the way to North Berwick at 10 in the morning for some kind of beach party I guess.

Anyway, we made it and the walk was as described. (Very) short, steep and worth it.

From Scotland 2009
Summit... there's the whale jawbone. It's for luck with fishing or something.

From Scotland 2009
Not a lot of gardening on top. This bench was pretty overgrown. One of the Napolean era forts is in the background.

From Scotland 2009
The flower on the left is growing through the boards of the bench.

From Scotland 2009
Blue waters off North Berwick.

From Scotland 2009
The white rock is Bass rock. The little white specks on the water are sailboats.

One thing we had not expected was how lovely North Berwick, the village on the sea is. After we climbed down from the law, we headed over to the beach for a walk along Scotland’s sandy shores.

From Scotland 2009
I originally put up another version of this photo where a naked kid ran into the frame, but I decided to pull it down... you never know who's looking...

From Scotland 2009
The bulge is North Berwick law. It just pops out of the flat ground.

From Scotland 2009
Another view of Bass Rock.

By now it was closing in on four, so we decided to head home.

That night we couldn’t find the cats for about an hour, and I started to get paranoid they had jumped out the window of our third floor flat. But, it turned out they were just sleeping in the closet.

There’s not much to say about the last day. We went to Starbucks again for the morning, and come home around one to start packing for our 6 o’clock train. We watched the finale of Wimbledon, and cleaned the flat up (which turned out to be a bit of a job). Finally, we called a cab to take us to the train station, some of the last flourishes of our holiday (we would never normally call a taxi). On the train ride home, we eagerly followed the updates on the Wimbledon finale, which was still going on. My iPod touch got wireless internet on the train, so we just saw the live score update, but had no play by play. But we still learned when old Federer had won after ages.

And before too long, we were back in London King’s Cross. It was about 10:30 and we called another cab to take us back up to Highgate, where we live. We piled home, and before long, we were in bed. Back to work the next day.

THE END

Monday, July 20, 2009

Trip to Scotland: June 30 - July 1

Here's the sixth post about Grace and I and my family's trip to Scotland...

We had a definite plan of action for our day with Hannah. We were going to do the Chainwalk, from our book on walks around Edinburgh. This walk involves a section along seaside cliffs that must be traversed by hanging onto chains that are strung along the side of the cliff. There are footholds, but they are too narrow to stay on without holding onto the chains. If the tide is high, the sea rages below you while you hold onto these chains. It sounded fun to us, but we didn't think Mom and Dad would be interested, so we saved it for a day with just Hannah. I should add that, if it sounds dangerous, the pictures on the internet show kids doing the walk. But then again, maybe Scotland's kids are built of tougher stuff than ours, since the helpful lady from the hotel in Glencoe had said "18 miles might be a bit much for the wee ones" a few days earlier, when we asked her about the difficulty of doing the Devil's Staircase walk.

But there was a problem. We had to return the car that day and the walk was ages away by public transport, some 2-3 hours each direction. After spending the better part of the previous day in a car, we had no desire to repeat the experience. So we scratched that plan and instead decided to hike up North Berwick Law, a bit of old volcano that our book said "should not be missed." This one was reachable by a quick 30 minute train ride, though the train only left once an hour.

But there was a problem. We missed the train by minutes. The next one wouldn't be coming until 2:40 pm, and that meant we would have to return on a rush-hour train, which costs extra. We decided to abandon the plan.

Instead, we hit upon walking up Arthur's Seat, the extinct volcano in Holyrood park, central Edinburgh.

But there was a problem. Grace was not feeling 100%. A strenuous uphill climb didn't sound like a good cure for her mild sickness.

So Hannah and I abandoned Grace to a Starbucks and headed up the hill/mountain ourselves.

On the way, we started to notice more and more well-dressed people. Men in formal kilts, women in dresses and fancy hats. We had begun to see them in the train station, but assumed they were all returning from a formal event somewhere else (the best dressed award goes to a guy we saw in the tickets line whose suit was black on one half and white on the other, like Two-Face. He had a matching black/white hat, and one black shoe, and one white shoe).

Anyway, all the people seemed to be converging on Holyrood Palace, the Queen's official residence in Scotland. Eventually we learned that there was a royal visit and garden party scheduled for today at the palace. As we headed up Arthur's Seat, we saw the unusual sight of hundreds of the best-dressed society standing in line - like COMMONERS!
From Scotland 2009
The Aristocracy waits to get into...

From Scotland 2009
...the Garden Party!

The walk up Arthur's seat was not too difficult. It was certainly steep and we were gasping for breath, but it was over in 45 minutes and we had great views of the city and the garden party, even if it was a bit hazy.

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Arthur's Seat, from the foot...

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Hannah triumphant.

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Summit.

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Arthur's seat, as seen through the doorway of an old ruin.

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An Album cover?

We headed down after enjoying the views and some food for a half hour or so, and met up with Grace again, who was feeling recovered by now. After a long hunt for the perfect dinner, we set upon frozen pizza for Hannah and me (Hannah has joined me in vegetarianism!) and roasted chicken for Grace and the parents (Grace finally had other people she could eat the meat with!). We finished up Braveheart that night, for the benefit of Hannah. My parents came back that evening from a great day in Glasgow - they reported that a tour guide said Braveheart's version of history was "absolute rubbish." We watched it anyway. FREEEEDOM!!!!

The next day was Grace and I's wedding anniversary (three years!), plus the last full day with my family. We got an early start and headed out to Linlithgow Palace (actually a ruin now) to take a gently (no hills) walk around the loch. By noon, we were in the unusual position of having already finished our walk for the day. We decided to finish up on some shopping odds and ends. Hannah got her shoes. Mom found her cashmere. I found some of that dangerously tasty honey-infused whiskey. While out, we got caught in some thunderous rain without our umbrellas. We were all helpless until we remembered that this was what taxis are for.

From Scotland 2009
Linlithgow Palace on the water.

That afternoon, Grace and I watched Wimbledon, which has become an annual tradition. This year, Andy Murray was a British phenomenon, the first Briton to have a shot at the title in 70 years. And he was Scottish, so the media was in a raving frenzy about him. That afternoon we watched Murray take apart Ferrerro. I remained convinced that he was not ready to beat Roger Federer, who, in my mind, has become elevated to something like Jedi-status.

The main event of the day, however, was Grace and I's anniversary dinner. Overwhelmed by choice, Grace and I had impulsively made reservations at the Forth Floor, a nice place on the top of a fancy department store that had good city views and served modern British/Scottish food. We didn't know how nice it was till we got there.

I think my family felt a little out of their element. There was a wine guy. There were lots of silverware. They put the nap on your lap for you (does anywhere in Iowa City do that?). Hannah wondered if they would feed us too. My dad asked for what he thought was a manly Belgian beer and ended up with a raspberry beer (which Grace graciously drank for him). Grace and I were a bit more used to the fancy stuff for two reasons. First, Cambridge was very fancy-schmanzy. Dress codes for dinner and all. Second, we had gone to a fancy restaurant the year before for our anniversary, called L'escargot (a gift from Mom and Dad). Two things hardly makes us connoisseurs, but I guess our advice in such places is to be confident and just fake it, like you belong there.

Mom and Dad ordered sea food, Hannah and I had the vegetarian option and Grace had something special - Highland Venison with quail egg! She says it was good. And we had a good time at the restaurant. Eventually dad located some beer more his style. Lovely anniversary gift.

From Scotland 2009
Farewell!

(Grace's Two Cents: Ha ha, Matt's not a vegetarian anymore!!! They gave us an amuse bouche (pre-appetizer) of smoked salmon and he ate it, because they just plopped it down in front of everyone. That means he's not a vegetarian anymore (no matter how much he insists to the contrary).)

(Matt's Response: An Anniversary indulgence, nothing more! I didn't ask for it, they just plopped it down and the fish was dead no matter what I did so I ate it! This is not taking the finger out of the dam! And it didn't even taste THAT good!)

(Grace's Response: That means you think it was 'good' to some unknown extent. Ha ha, soon it'll be burgers and steak that don't even taste 'THAT good'.)

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Trip to Scotland: June 28 - June 29

Grace and I have been on holiday in Scotland over the last two weeks. This month, I'll be really busy with freelance, so we're going to parcel out a set of seven blog posts about the trip over the next week or so. Here's the fifth...

After driving out of Edinburgh on Friday and Saturday, we were ready for a break from travel, so we stayed in on Sunday. Besides car exhaustion, one reason for the decision was because my parents really wanted to go to Glencoe, one of the most dramatic areas of the country, and just reachable in a daytrip by car. The famous "100 Countryside Walks Around Edinburgh" book did not extend that far, so we needed an extra day to get the scoop on the place in order to maximise our time out there.

So, on Sunday the 28th, we stayed in and headed out to a late 11:30 church at St. Giles Cathedral (part of the Church of Scotland... I think). The service had plenty of differences with American services. For one, the sermon was about, among other things, how in the modern world, unbelief had to be taken for granted when meeting people, in contrast with the past. In the US, I think you probably shouldn't assume what someone believes, but guessing Christian is safer than guessing non-religious. Over here, it's the reverse (only 5% or something of people go to Church every week).
From Scotland 2009
Inside the Cathedral, after the service.


The other major difference I noticed was the music, which is very traditional. The melodies are completely unfamiliar to me - I'm not sure I heard anything resembling one. There was a choir dressed in traditional robes that did most of the singing, accompanied by a gigantic organ. The same organ performed the closing melody once the service had ended and it was straight out of a horror movie. Very dark, deep, loud and scary.

After church, we worked on our spirituality by going shopping. First stop was the whiskey shop across the street from the cathedral, to see if there were any free samples - no luck. Afterwards, we had a couple of competing motives. Hannah and Mom wanted to look around at shoes and cashmere, among other things. Dad wanted to look at books and potential souvenirs. I wanted to look at books on Glencoe, so we could figure out where to go the next day. Grace wanted to pick up some things she had dropped off at a tailors a few days earlier. The group had mixed success at these goals. But we did buy the movie Braveheart, which Hannah had never seen.

After recharging over some tea, we all walked down to the Museum of Scotland, which is all about, wait for it, Scotland. Things were learned.
From Scotland 2009
That's a big sword.


After the museum, we headed home, where Grace and I cooked for everyone. Hannah learned a completely false history of Scotland's struggle for independence from Braveheart that night, while I pondered what we should do the next day. The most recommended walk in Glencoe was one over the memorably named Devil's Staircase, a mountain pass built by soldiers, many of whom died during its construction.

The problem was, the walk was 9 miles - each way. I wanted to see if we could shorten it down to my parents' preferred 4 miles, by starting at the beginning or end and going only 2 miles out, then turning around. I eventually called a hotel near the start to ask someone who had done the walk. No luck. The walk was:

3 miles through relatively flat land --> 3 miles over the devil's staircase --> 3 miles through relatively flat land

The hotel lady helpfully suggested we could walk the full 9 miles and then catch a bus from the end to a big (for the highlands) city, and then take a second bus from there back to the hotel, where we would be parked. That didn't sound plausible, given it would take 3 hours just to reach the starting hotel from Edinburgh, and then we would have to walk more than twice as far as my parents were used to over a mountain nonetheless, and then take the not-so-swift Scottish public transport back to our car. When I said the bus would probably take too long, she said,

"Well, you could walk there and back, but the full 18 miles might be a bit much if you have wee ones with you."

So we had to find something else. Because the full 18 miles would be too much for the wee ones. Eventually I decided we would drive to the relatively big town of Fort William, and then just ask someone at a gift shop the best 4 mile walk in the area.

We got up admirably early the next morning, and were on the road by 8:30, much better than our noon average.

But oh, google maps lied to us about the time. Google maps estimated we would be there in 2 hours and 50 minutes. It ended up taking an hour longer. Worse yet, we had a very small car by American standards and I had forgotten that driving in Scotland once you get off the scant 4-lane highways is a nauseous affair. Mike almost threw up last year (but managed to fall asleep instead). The problem is you quickly find yourself zipping along at 50-70 miles per hour on tiny two-lane roads that are not straight for more than 200 yards most of the time. They bend up, down, around and so forth, throwing everyone but the driver into dangerously car-sick territory. And this goes on for hours. A steady speed is a laughable dream, with some major corner coming up three or four times a mile with huge "SLOW" signs painted on the road and "Reduce Speed Now!" signs on the side of the road (my favorite sign is the one that just says " ! - 300 yards ". I guess it just means "get ready for SOMETHING in 300 yards!").
From Scotland 2009
Driving in Scotland is cool.


But, we persevered, and arrived in Fort William, which sits on an enormous loch, around noon. After some lunch, I asked tourist information for the best four mile walk, and they had a ready answer - the falls of clyde. We had to drive another 30 minutes to the start of the walk. This driving involved some of Scotland's famous one-lane roads, where there are occasional areas to pull over in case you run into someone going the other direction.

Still, despite the complaints, it was a beautiful drive, with mountains looming on either side of us. The walk was good too, eventually taking us into a big gorge topped by a waterfall.

From Scotland 2009
The new camera can do the blurry water trick.

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Excited.

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Family photo with waterfall.

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Flaunting my waterproof hiking boots.

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Wading in.

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The falls we're heading towards.

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Walking in the highlands.

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Crossing the river (almost - he turned around halfway).

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At the foot of the falls.

After a few hours enjoying Glencoe, we reluctantly got back in the car and braced ourselves for a two-hour (according to the lying google maps) drive down to Glasgow, where my parents would be spending the night.

But the drive went really well this time. There was almost no traffic and the morning fog lifted so we could see amazing scenery. We passed through desolate mountainscapes with scarcely another car in sight and no villages or towns for dozens of miles. It was a lonely landscape.

Eventually we made our way down to Loch Lomond, the largest freshwater body of water in Great Britain. We drove alongside it for nearly an hour, so long was it's coast, but the roads were nice after awhile, and entry into Glasgow was pretty easy. Google maps lied to us again though, this time telling us to keep our eyes peeled for a fictional exit onto the A-198 in Glasgow. No such road exists and as we started to leave the city limits we realised google maps had deceived us again. I think I should add at this time that google maps was also completely and utterly useless for driving in Edinburgh, because construction meant none of the roads it directed us to were available for travel.

Anyway, we pulled off at an exit, and Dad called for a taxi with the help of a friendly ice cream van. Grace and I took Hannah back to Edinburgh, while my parents spent that night and the next day in Glasgow (Scotland's biggest city). Back in Edinburgh, Hannah and Grace ordered us some Indian food we had been craving and we all settled down in front of the TV for the night.

From Scotland 2009

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Trip to Scotland: June 27

Grace and I have been on holiday in Scotland over the last two weeks. This month, I'll be really busy with freelance, so we're going to parcel out a set of seven blog posts about the trip over the next week or so. Here's the fourth...

When it comes to walking terrain, Scotland (and to some extent, the British Isles) offers a few unique things: small mountains, lochs, farmland, historic stuff, beaches and seaside cliffs. The walk through Dollar Glen took us up some big hills (probably not small mountains), around historic stuff and through farmland. Today, we decided to head to the sea and explore a series of seaside cliffs - something you just can't get in Iowa. So, after a bit of a late start, we piled into the car and drove 70 minutes out to the tiny village of St. Abbs. Our book, "100 Countryside Walks Around Edinburgh" described this walk as "a long drive, but worth it." They were right!

We started off on a four-lane motorway, then cut off onto a two lane backroad that took us along the sea, and then onto very narrow country lanes that brought us all the way out to St. Abbs, which sat at the foot of a nature reserve. The walk described in the book was actually 8 miles, but we cut it in half by starting midway through - after yesterday's walk we realised 4 miles was more my parents speed than 8.

We knew the walk would be good, because we could see the sea and undulating hills when we started, but it turned out to be really fantastic. After we passed along a field of wheat (?) we suddenly emerged out on a big rocky bay. The rest of the walk would be like this. For this blog post, pictures are worth a 1,000 words.
From Scotland 2009
Amber waves of grain?

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Getting started...

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Erosion...

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Taking a nervous look.

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Looking back to St. Abbs.

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A little bay.

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Exploring the little bay.

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This way is holy.

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Hannah looks down...

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Mom and Dad on the cliffs.


At the half-way point, we reached St. Abb's Head, a working lighthouse. On the other side was something really incredible, the nesting grounds for thousands of birds. They stained the cliffs white with their poop. I've never seen so many birds in my life. I wished my camera had a better zoom lens.

From Scotland 2009
The first sign of the bird kingdom.

From Scotland 2009
Around a bajillion birds, most too small to see. The white is their poop.

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Zooming in on one pile of rock the birds have taken over.

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Scottish atmosphere.

On the way back, we left the cliffs and walked along a less-than-pristine loch with a lot of algae growing in it. There were some ducks, which dad fed.

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A little shed on the loch.

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A little loch.

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Feeding the birds.

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Chasing the food.

After the walk, we headed down to the slightly bigger seaside village of Eyemouth to grab dinner at a seaside pub called The Tavern. The Tavern had been recommended by the Eyemouth tourist board as a great family friendly restaurant on the sea, but someone must have bribed someone, because the place wasn't even open for dinner. Instead, we headed over to another pub, the Ship Hotel, for dinner that was near the sea, if not exactly on it.

After dinner we drove back in thick, thick fog (very atmospheric) and decided that we wouldn't go for a walk the next day because we were all tired of long drives. Instead, we would use the next day to plot an even more ambitious move for the day after tomorrow - a looooong drive to the highlands.

From Scotland 2009

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