A Ramblin'

The Ramblers are a national organization for walking. U.K. landowners by law have to provide walkers the right of passage across their land (there are a few exceptions), so there are a LOT of places to walk. There are local chapters all over that have organized walks every weekend.

Apparently, the Ramblers have gotten a reputation for being an organization for retirees (or pensioners, as the Brits say), so earlier this decade they started groups around the country for people in their 20s and 30s as a way to revitalize the organization. As it happens, there's one of these groups in Cambridge, called Walk Cambridge.

This weekend, we decided to try the group out by joining them for a walk about 45 minutes north of Cambridge. It was a 6-mile walk between the villages of Folksworth and Stilton, which is where Stilton cheese gets its name from but isn't where it's made. It was pleasant enough, but the real treat was the people -- everyone was *so* nice. I chatted with probably 8 different people along the way, none of them JT, because he was busy chatting, too. One of the original members of the group told us, "I'm not sure if we're a walking group that talks or a talking group that walks."

We walked through fields, mostly, saw the occasional cow, and only one flock of sheep. We stopped for lunch in a farmer's field next to a giant pile of manure. Fortunately the wind was (mostly) blowing the other way. We also came upon a couple of horses that came over and greeted us, and when I fed one of them my apple core, she decided she wanted to be a Rambler, too. She looked at us rather mournfully over the kissing gate when she realized we weren't going to stay and play with her.

The whole walk took us about 4 hours, plus we stopped at a pub for 20-30 minutes for a break. We walked through a lot of mud -- a LOT of mud. When we got back to the car we both took our boots off and put them in the trunk -- we didn't even want to get in the car with them on. My jeans were covered in mud, too -- I'm going to need a pair of gaiters if we keep this up.

We had a great time, and the walk served the dual purpose of providing a way for us to meet more people in the area that aren't work colleagues, and seeing more of the greater Cambridge area. I think we'll be back.

More photos here.

D-Day

Happy Belated 200th Mr. Darwin!

I've been debating whether to do this post. While Charles Darwin is one of the most influential scientists ever, he's also arguably one of the most controversial. His ideas on evolution, specifically that we descended from simpler creatures and that other primates trace their lineages back to a common ancestor with us, are well-accepted by the scientific community, but they are hard to embrace by those who believe in a largely literal reading of the Bible. This conflict makes me sad. The large majority of the world's religions, even most forms of Christianity, have come to terms with evolution, finding no conflict between it and faith in a God who created mankind. From my viewpoint, I find the idea that people trace back to single-cell creatures one of the greatest miracles of all.

Despite the divisiveness of the topic, I felt the need to write this entry, primarily because we can't escape Darwin-mania here in Cambridge,where the man was a student. Just this week Prince Philip came to town to unveil a new Darwin statue and a few weeks ago Cambridge University had an amazing light show that featured Darwin (see the picture above of Darwin and the tree of life). My intern on Monday also visited the newly restored Down House, Darwin's home that some want to be a World Heritage site.

But the real reason for this post is I wanted to share the amazing evening I had Monday night listening to Baba Brinkman, a Canadian hip-hop artist who is doing rap songs about evolution.I went in skeptical but left his show hugely impressed. If you follow the link, you can read my review of the show and can also see lyrics, listen to,or watch videos of songs with titles such as Natural Selection. Even if you don't like rap, take a look--he's worth it. But if you don't like evolution, be warned that Baba doesn't take it easy on creationism or intelligent design.

--JT

Snowy February

We've had bad luck seeing snow in Cambridge. It snowed days before our initial arrival here, but was of course long gone by the time we got here. then, last year, the same snow that covered us in the Lake District covered Cambridge -- so we missed it. We get the odd flurry, but the weather is generally too mild for snow. Well, the what started as a blustery snow storm yesterday settled into a constant snowfall over night, and lovely snow showers throughout the day today. The nice, fluffy snow stuck, and was enough to close schools and even shut down most mass transit in London. It's just gorgeous.

Red What?

We're in London this week--yes, all week. We rented a posh apartment and are both working and playing. It's a nice change from the quick trips down from Cambridge and the dash to catch a train home at night. We'll update you more later but I just wanted to jot a quick note about a tidbit from our Sunday stroll among various markets. We stopped in a pub for an afternoon pint when I was taken aback by the T-shirt worn by the college-age bartender. It was Detroit Red Wings Stanly Cup championship shirt from the 90s. "I didn't expect to find a Wings fan here," I remarked. He looked puzzled so I pointed at the shirt and said "the hockey team. "Oh, that's funny. I had no clue who this was. I just bought the shirt someplace," he replied.

That's not the only time we've seen something American worn or said without the Brits having a clue what they're doing. Just yesterday the Guardian had an article lamenting the use of the baseball cliche "step up to the plate" by English politicians. Here's part of Duncan Campbell's rant: "This is what is so disturbing about "stepping up to the plate". Have the people who use it ever seen a baseball game? What's so great about stepping up to the plate anyway? You just put one foot in front of the other."

That's all for now--the inauguration is about to start and Obama is stepping up to the plate.

--JT

Business is tough

The [recession/economic downturn/global financial crisis/gloom and doom phrase of your choice] has definitely hit in England, with today's lead story being a proposal to nationalize the entire banking system to stimulate credit. On the high street (a phrase that can both generically refer to the main business/retail industries, and also to High Street, which is what the main street in most towns, villages, and cities is called), several big chains have gone out of business or into administration (basically the equivalent of bankruptcy) -- Woolworths, Zavvi (music store), Whittard of Chelsea (tea shop), Olan Mills, Pier (UK equivalent to Pier One), and Waterford Wedgwood, among others.

Some of those stores have Cambridge branches that are now closed. We live near Cambridge's first shopping mall. A shiny new mall has opened in the city centre, and the stores in the old mall and in the pedestrian streets around it are struggling, and independents are shutting down, too. I try when I can to use the small grocers and butchers instead of the posh and expensive Marks & Spencer food shop in the mall; now the M&S is closing.

Some aspects of Cambridge are business as usual. Last week the new term started, and the city centre was full of fresh young faces, suitcase in tow, college scarf wrapped around their necks. The open-air market was bustling with parents in town to drop of their kids. In my day job, we note that this is the time to take that class you've been meaning to take, improve your skills in the work you're doing now, take stock of all the jobs you're qualified to do but maybe haven't considered. Meanwhile, JT and I remain grateful for our jobs and our situation. And occasionally discuss whether our ability to order take-out is a transferrable skill.

10,044 miles later ...

No, that's not our mileage for 2008. That's the tally for our two-week Christmas/New Year's trip to Detroit, San Antonio, and Washington. We had fantastic visits with family and friends at each stop. We truly relaxed -- which made starting back to work this week all the more difficult. Apologies for the silence -- we do hope to keep the blog current and lively as we enter our (gasp) third year in England. Just as soon as I get over this jet lag.

The Best and Wurst of Germany

Friend Andrea flew to London before Thanksgiving, and we had a great visit, seeing the sights here and in London. Then, on Thanksgiving day, the three of us took a 6 a.m. flight to Frankfurt(ish) (as with Stockholm, Ryanair puts you down 120 km from where you actually want to go). Our mission: go to German Christmas markets, outdoor craft-fair-like festivals with a fair amount of kitsch but some good stuff too, plus a lot of gluhwein, which is warm, usually blueberry wine that I don't really like at all, and several kinds of wurst (sausage), all of which I sampled, of course.

After a bus ride to Frankfurt, we were welcomed to the city by small market right on our street. We checked into our hotel, went back out, and promptly got ourselves a wurst of some kind. We then headed into town for big Christmas market. Much of Frankfurt was destroyed in World War II, but they carefully reconstructed the oldest part of the city center. Combined with modern, unique skyscrapers, Frankfurt made for a nice city to visit. The market itself was a nice, manageable size, with places to duck into when we were tired of being numb from the cold.

That night we headed to Adolf Wagner, a Bavarian tavern where you sit at big communal taverns and drink pitchers of apfelwein (apple wine). We dragged ourselves here because we were all exhausted; we realized instantly that it had been worth it. Our meal was fabulous, too: we all had various forms of meat (slow cooked beef; pork rib; schnitzel) with various forms of potato.

On Friday, we took a train up the Rhine River to a small village called Bacharach. The whole region is quite beautiful, but if there's not a special event going on, the towns are completely empty and closed. We've encountered this before. So, we made the most of it by wandering around, enjoying the half-timbered buildings, the 14^th century fortification wall, and the 12^th century castle Burg Stahleck, which is now a youth hostel. Bacharach would make a great base for visiting this region and drinking wine. We knew we wanted to do the latter, so we hovered outside a restaurant called Weingut Fritz Bastian Erbhof until it opened shortly after 1. This turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip. We were the only customers in the cozy dining room heated by a wood-burning stove. We ordered a wine carousel -- a lazy susan of 15 different German wines. We were surprised to learn about the variety and deliciousness of German wines! Coupled with some goulash and cheese, it was a great meal.

Saturday we packed up and took the train to Nuremberg, which hosts perhaps the most famous of Germany's Christmas markets. We stayed in an apartment outside of town but right on the subway line, so it was very convenient. After dropping our luggage off, we headed into the town and came out of the subway in the middle of the old town, greeted by the beautiful Church of St. Lawrence. Our first food sample here was Nuremberg's version of lebkuchen, gingerbread. It was absolutely delicious! We began to wander around the town, which completely turns itself over to the Christmas market. Tons of food vendors (lebkuchen, sausage, gluhwein, bread, cheese, even sushi!) and tons of ornaments, small ceramic houses, and gifts galore.

Eventually, though, the crowds got to us: It's no secret that Nuremberg has a nice market, so the aisles were jam packed with people. We got a break from the crowds by stopping for a beer at the Bratwursthausle, but didn't sample the Nuremberg specialty here -- three small bratwurst served in a weckla (roll). Don't worry; we had it elsewhere. We also stopped for potato pancakes -- definitely high on the list of our favorite festival food. After a few more hours of fighting the crowds, we took refuge in the Barfuesser Brauhaus, a brewery-restaurant in an old grain warehouse.

Sunday, after a leisurely breakfast at our apartment, we headed to the train again to go 45 km or so north of Nuremberg to the town of Bamberg, a beautiful medieval city that escaped the war largely unscathed. It too had a tiny little Christmas market that extended throughout the towns nooks and crannies. We were greeted right way by a community band playing Christmas carols. The whole town was just delightful -- lots to look at and far fewer people than in Nuremberg.

JT's favorite part was that the town boasts 10 breweries. So, our first stop was Wirtshaus zum Schlenkerla, a 16^th century restaurant (the guidebook says) that's famous for its Rauchbier, or smoked beer. We tried three different beers here -- all very smoky! Our food was the ultimate in comfort food, too: John ordered the Spiessbraten (absolutely incredible roast pork) mit Kloss (a potato dumpling thing none of us liked very much) und Wirsing (savoy cabbage -- and it was delicious! Who knew!). Andrea and I had kresseschaumsuppe (watercress soup) mit griessklosschen (semolina dumplings). Absolutely delicious. This place was good fun and warm and inviting; had it not been a sunny day, we easily could have spent the rest of the day here.

Instead, we walked the town some more and headed up to the town's enormous cathedral and to a town square with nice views of the Benedictine Kloster St. Michael, a former monastery and now an old folks home.

Monday morning, John left from Nuremberg's airport on an early flight and was back in England before Andrea and I even woke up. We packed up, checked ourselves into a small, cheap hotel near the train station (we clearly got the last room -- the one they try not to rent out unless they have to. The people were over-the-top nice, breakfast was very nice, and the location incredible. The décor of our room left a lot to be desired; we were in a smoking room that smelled; and we had no hot water. But: for 70 euro a night and 1 block from the train station? OK.), then hopped onto a train to Rothenberg ob der Tauber.

Rothenberg is a popular stop among tourists, and with good reason. It's pretty small and very beautiful. And, has a small market for Christmas. The weather was pretty terrible, though, so our first stop was a German inn (Baumeisterhaus, I think) that I'd love to stay at. Its restaurant was warm, had good food and good beer, which was exactly what we were looking for. We then spent several hours in the Christmas market mecca, the Kathe Wolfahrt Christmas village. It was seriously good shopping, and so well done and decorated you often forgot you were in a shop. Another trip around the city and a stop at Zur Holl for a glass of wine, and we were on our way back to the train station and Nuremberg.

We had been trying to figure out a way to get to the town of Tubingen on Tuesday for the opening of its chocolate festival. Alas, it was not meant to be: We would have had to spend too much time on trains and had to change several times while hauling (now very heavy) luggage. So, we decided to spend our last full day in Nuremberg. We spent the morning going to chocolate shops and yarn stores, which was good fun. We signed ourselves up to take a tour of the city, which was something we hadn't done in any of the other cities we had been to on this trip. It was a lovely tour and we got to learn some of the town's rich history as the unofficial capital of the Holy Roman Empire. Then there's the part about it being the site of Nazi party rallies and an important military location for the Nazis. Our tour guide talked about the Nazi presence in Nuremberg as being very separate from the history of the town, and she talked about what remains of the rally grounds just outside the city. There's a museum there -- "it's hard," she says. I think this also marks my first trip to somewhere that was destroyed by Allied bombs; 90 percent of Nuremberg was toppled in one hour on Jan. 2, 1945.

After our tour, which ended at Kaiserburg, a castle of medieval knights that's also now a youth hostel, and a quick stop to thaw at the Brauerei Altstadthof, we made our way back to our hotel to grab luggage and head to the train station for an evening journey to Frankfurt. Andrea's flight was in the early afternoon the next day at Wednesday, so it was easiest to get ourselves back to Frankfurt that night.

An aside here: Although the German train system is fantastic, you can spend a small fortune if you don't know a few tricks for avoiding full-price tickets. There's a special weekend ticket that's good for up to 5 people in ALL of Germany -- that's what we used to get to Nuremberg the first time. We also used a Bavaria ticket during the week, which is good for up to 5 people in all of Bavaria. (And kids and, well, anyone, will look over your shoulder at the train station and ask to travel on your Bavaria ticket.) After hours of combing our guidebooks and websites and asking clueless ticket agents at train stations on how we could get from Nuremberg to Frankfurt cheaply on a Tuesday, we discovered the secret: Ask a ticket taker. It turns out we could use a Bavaria ticket (27 euro) to get us most of the way there, and then we had to buy a supplementary ticket from the ticket taker (this ticket isn't available from a machine) from Kahl to Frankfurt, nevermind that the train doesn't actually go through Kahl. You would NEVER come up with this on your own. This scheme was less than half the price we would have paid if we just punched our journey into a ticket machine.

So anyway, we went back to Frankfurt, checked into the adorable Hotel Am Berg, one of the few rooms we could find because of the Christmas market and a giant convention (for the engineers in the crowd, it was EUROMOLD - as in manufacturing molds), and had our final German meal at Zum Gemalten Haus, another tavern a few doors down from the one we had eaten at a few days before. It was a warm, friendly place and a great way to bring our trip to a close.

Well, almost to a close. Due to wretched weather, we hopped in a taxi the next morning to the main train station, and Andrea headed off to the airport. I still had 12 hours before my flight, so I found myself a nice perch in a lounge that looked down on the activity in the train station and worked. Several hours later I put my suitcase in a luggage locker and headed out for one last stroll around the city. Reinforced with potato pancakes and doppelbock, I got on the bus to Hahn airport and back to the U.K. -- for some rest!

Photo album here.