A lot has happened
Well, in letting this blog go for several days the number of remarkable instances has accumulated to the point where it has become unmanageable in my mind-- nevertheless I shall do my best to provide a brief account of the past several days.
David arrived in Paddington Station a few minutes past noon on the 21st, and met me by the statue of the bear (swipe) that bears the station's name. After greeting him in a manner that unconsciously echoed my father ("there he is!" I exclaimed, recoiling in surprise when I realized exactly how much I sounded like my dad), we set off for the hotel, a modest affair called the "ascot" (a presentiment of things to come, more on this later). The accomodations were cheap, though entirely effective, with the exception of the shower, a pathetic affair that did not even remotely suit our needs.
We took a walk through Hyde Park as David recounted all that had happened in my absence (an entire year in just an hour or so, remarkably efficient on his part), and gazed at the crystalline blue of the Serpentine in the early afternoon sun as we mulled over the potential of the summer to come. We set off then for the area near Westminster, where we walked around the important areas of London (politically and religiously) and then moved on to Buckingham, Trafalgar Square, and then Covent Garden, where we had a wonderful dinner in Wagamama (a noodle bar previously frequented by Anthony and Margaret and I). Afterwards, we returned to the hotel for a brief period (during which I got to try the New Super Mario Bros., and was quite satisfied), after which we returned to Covent Garden for a night of clubbing at the Gardening Club, where Sophie had taken me for my birthday and where I had met (I recollect with a sigh) the lovely Ms. Harriet Bothwell. The evening was not quite as magical for me this time around, but the music was good and the dancing was better-- a good time was had by all.
After this, we walked (yes, walked) all the way from Covent Garden to Paddington Station, where our hotel was. That's quite a walk, ladies and gentlemen, but David and I held up with determination, despite the fact that my feet had begun to blister much earlier in the day.
The next morning we toured Shakespeare's Globe (an underwhelming tour, but a glorious building) and returned once more to Covent Garden in order to peruse the racks of Forbidden Planet, the geek superstore. I briefly considered getting the "Carl Cthulhu" figurine, and was mighty tempted by the scale-model Highwind airship, but we refrained from purchases and once more set off for the train station. David's ankle, previously broken in an accident at Denison, had begun to cause him considerable pain, and we were wary of pushing ourselves too far (it's fair to add that my dogs were also barking, to use one of your human colloquialisms).
The Hammersmith and City line was experiencing severe delays, so we took a cab to the station and only just caught the 1505 to Exeter. There was a point where the station attendant closed the train door with me onboard and David, crippled and hobbling, still trying to reach for the handle before the train pulled out of the station. It was closer than that movie starring Natalie Portman as a stripper. We made it home, however, in time to show David the wonders of Curry Night at the Imperial (their curry is, like, so good) and go out for another consecutive night of clubbing at Arena. I got to see a lot of people (some for the last time), and the DJ played "Mm-Bop," so I think it's safe to say the evening was legendary.
My God this pizza I'm eating is atrocious-- I don't know whether it's the cheap brand or the taste of Czech cigar still in my mouth.
Anyway-- BACK TO ADVENTURE! David and I woke up on Friday morning and toured Exeter, seeing the cathedral and perusing the shops on the High Street. We had a pint with Freya and Ben in the Ram afterwards, and then we saw the much-improved Twelfth Night and the extraordinary "Esme Tales," a production written by a classmate of mine (and hopefully now a lifelong correspondent). It was without question the most impressive student-written production I've ever witnessed, and that's counting the remarkable "Hello, Lemon" which Denison put on the year before this past one. Holy crap, was it good.
It also had a brilliant student-composed score, which made me think of our own wonderful Jordan Fehr, who (by the way) composed a little ditty which he claims was influenced by my own "The Man from the Quiet Country." For this, he must realize, I am forever in his debt. When I get home, sir, you and I will have some collaborative endeavors, be assured of it.
This morning David and I rented a car and tripped it out to Stonehenge, where David was impressed (as was I my first time) with how remarkably random the placement of the 'Henge seems to be. It's really just in the middle of this plain, for no apparent reason. You just come over this hill and boom-- giant circle of standing stones. The local chapter of Druids were still holding their solstice ceremonies there (and they really looked like they were enjoying themselves, too, I was jealous) right in the middle of the monument. I found myself wishing that I could join them, but then David reminded me that the Druids were not exactly like the SCA.
Not that I could join the SCA, either. Those folks are hardcore.
We then traveled to Oxford, where we had some coffee, strolled through the city, and unfortunately were denied access to the botanical gardens (I was there, though, I saw the bench and everything, I saw it, and all I wanted to do was sit on it and think that for one moment I might be connected to someone like me, but...), and unfortunately my camera stopped working in an odd moment of fate. I think the universe may have been telling me something, though I'm afraid to consider what exactly that might be...
Afterwards we drove back, admiring the English countryside and discussing the best endings of our favorite games. We stopped in the Ram for a couple pints and discussed that most dangerous of topics, the Future, and then adjourned to Lafrowda to smoke the cigars that I had specially bought for David in Prague.
Tomorrow we intend to head to the moors after an Indian buffet lunch, and then Monday's the Summer Ball, Tuesday I finalize my departure, and early Wednesday morning I'm off...
...Off home. Whatever that may portend.
David arrived in Paddington Station a few minutes past noon on the 21st, and met me by the statue of the bear (swipe) that bears the station's name. After greeting him in a manner that unconsciously echoed my father ("there he is!" I exclaimed, recoiling in surprise when I realized exactly how much I sounded like my dad), we set off for the hotel, a modest affair called the "ascot" (a presentiment of things to come, more on this later). The accomodations were cheap, though entirely effective, with the exception of the shower, a pathetic affair that did not even remotely suit our needs.
We took a walk through Hyde Park as David recounted all that had happened in my absence (an entire year in just an hour or so, remarkably efficient on his part), and gazed at the crystalline blue of the Serpentine in the early afternoon sun as we mulled over the potential of the summer to come. We set off then for the area near Westminster, where we walked around the important areas of London (politically and religiously) and then moved on to Buckingham, Trafalgar Square, and then Covent Garden, where we had a wonderful dinner in Wagamama (a noodle bar previously frequented by Anthony and Margaret and I). Afterwards, we returned to the hotel for a brief period (during which I got to try the New Super Mario Bros., and was quite satisfied), after which we returned to Covent Garden for a night of clubbing at the Gardening Club, where Sophie had taken me for my birthday and where I had met (I recollect with a sigh) the lovely Ms. Harriet Bothwell. The evening was not quite as magical for me this time around, but the music was good and the dancing was better-- a good time was had by all.
After this, we walked (yes, walked) all the way from Covent Garden to Paddington Station, where our hotel was. That's quite a walk, ladies and gentlemen, but David and I held up with determination, despite the fact that my feet had begun to blister much earlier in the day.
The next morning we toured Shakespeare's Globe (an underwhelming tour, but a glorious building) and returned once more to Covent Garden in order to peruse the racks of Forbidden Planet, the geek superstore. I briefly considered getting the "Carl Cthulhu" figurine, and was mighty tempted by the scale-model Highwind airship, but we refrained from purchases and once more set off for the train station. David's ankle, previously broken in an accident at Denison, had begun to cause him considerable pain, and we were wary of pushing ourselves too far (it's fair to add that my dogs were also barking, to use one of your human colloquialisms).
The Hammersmith and City line was experiencing severe delays, so we took a cab to the station and only just caught the 1505 to Exeter. There was a point where the station attendant closed the train door with me onboard and David, crippled and hobbling, still trying to reach for the handle before the train pulled out of the station. It was closer than that movie starring Natalie Portman as a stripper. We made it home, however, in time to show David the wonders of Curry Night at the Imperial (their curry is, like, so good) and go out for another consecutive night of clubbing at Arena. I got to see a lot of people (some for the last time), and the DJ played "Mm-Bop," so I think it's safe to say the evening was legendary.
My God this pizza I'm eating is atrocious-- I don't know whether it's the cheap brand or the taste of Czech cigar still in my mouth.
Anyway-- BACK TO ADVENTURE! David and I woke up on Friday morning and toured Exeter, seeing the cathedral and perusing the shops on the High Street. We had a pint with Freya and Ben in the Ram afterwards, and then we saw the much-improved Twelfth Night and the extraordinary "Esme Tales," a production written by a classmate of mine (and hopefully now a lifelong correspondent). It was without question the most impressive student-written production I've ever witnessed, and that's counting the remarkable "Hello, Lemon" which Denison put on the year before this past one. Holy crap, was it good.
It also had a brilliant student-composed score, which made me think of our own wonderful Jordan Fehr, who (by the way) composed a little ditty which he claims was influenced by my own "The Man from the Quiet Country." For this, he must realize, I am forever in his debt. When I get home, sir, you and I will have some collaborative endeavors, be assured of it.
This morning David and I rented a car and tripped it out to Stonehenge, where David was impressed (as was I my first time) with how remarkably random the placement of the 'Henge seems to be. It's really just in the middle of this plain, for no apparent reason. You just come over this hill and boom-- giant circle of standing stones. The local chapter of Druids were still holding their solstice ceremonies there (and they really looked like they were enjoying themselves, too, I was jealous) right in the middle of the monument. I found myself wishing that I could join them, but then David reminded me that the Druids were not exactly like the SCA.
Not that I could join the SCA, either. Those folks are hardcore.
We then traveled to Oxford, where we had some coffee, strolled through the city, and unfortunately were denied access to the botanical gardens (I was there, though, I saw the bench and everything, I saw it, and all I wanted to do was sit on it and think that for one moment I might be connected to someone like me, but...), and unfortunately my camera stopped working in an odd moment of fate. I think the universe may have been telling me something, though I'm afraid to consider what exactly that might be...
Afterwards we drove back, admiring the English countryside and discussing the best endings of our favorite games. We stopped in the Ram for a couple pints and discussed that most dangerous of topics, the Future, and then adjourned to Lafrowda to smoke the cigars that I had specially bought for David in Prague.
Tomorrow we intend to head to the moors after an Indian buffet lunch, and then Monday's the Summer Ball, Tuesday I finalize my departure, and early Wednesday morning I'm off...
...Off home. Whatever that may portend.
posted by Nate at 8:03 PM
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