#london tube stickers funny

[fidg3ty-blog1]

Luxury Stickers London Pour Chambre

Luxury Stickers London Pour Chambre

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[pursehouse-blog1]

Luxury Stickers London Pour Chambre

Luxury Stickers London Pour Chambre

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[lothiriel84]

Speak to me, I’m brilliant

A week ago I had just come home from one of my best trips ever, no matter how short. The cold I’ve somehow brought home as a souvenir of my time in London is finally getting better, so sit down and prepare ye to hear my story. 

The thing is, I had been desperately wanting to go back to London for quite some time. Last time I’d been there was in January, and quite a lot of stuff has happened since then. (Nope, still not going to talk about The Thing. Sorry.)

Yes, I know how I said that my trip to Frankfurt was all I’d ever wanted, and that it had to be enough to see me through. But all the endless bureaucratic nonsense I’ve been dealing with for months now had started dragging me down once more, and to be honest, I was starting to really miss London, and my favourite people who live - and perform - there. 

When John sent one of his kind-of-secret emails with the dates for the upcoming Library Edition tryouts - we’re getting a seventh series of JFSP! hooray! - I was really upset, thinking that I probably wouldn’t be able to go to any of those. Thankfully, my Fandot friends somehow inspired me to get a ticket anyway (thank you, Jenni!), and I decided to pick November 1st because it’s a holiday here, which meant I had more chances of being able to leave my country regardless of any hypothetical job, or bureaucratic hassle, or whatever.

I know there are far worse things in the world, but it’s still not funny having to wait around for weeks to know whether or not you’re going to be able to get the one good thing you’ve been looking forward to in months; trying not to get your hopes high to save yourself some disappointment in case something comes up out of nowhere, and you have to cancel your trip at the very last moment. 

Even more so given how, after I’d already booked my flight and everything, the dates for the recordings of JFSP were announced, and I somehow managed to get a ticket to one of those, in spite of everything. I’ve kind of annoyed everybody and their wife, complaining that they probably wouldn’t let me in anyway - I’m really sorry about that, chaps. On the plus side, I’ve got no reason to complain anymore, so that’s probably a relief for anyone who has the misfortune of knowing me. 

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I was actually able to leave for my trip, against all odds. Yeah, I was still worried that I maybe wouldn’t get to London in time for the tryouts or something, but in the end it was nothing short than perfect, and I’m ever so grateful for this.

(On a side note, listening to the final episode of The Tomb of Arensnuphis whilst flying over the Alps was one of the eeriest experiences ever, podcast-wise. I highly recommend it, though.)

I was in fact on time for Library Edition, which meant I got to stand in a crammed room wedged between two plants, waiting for the doors to the auditorium to finally open. It was worth it though, for I actually secured a front-row seat for myself; and given how the recordings started only two days later, the whole of the cast was there, which was absolutely brilliant. 

The sketches were brilliant, and I’m really looking forward to hearing them in their final recorded version. John took the time to say hi to those who were still around after the show, and I even managed to give Simon a custom-made CD of Time Spanner I’d made especially for his birthday, which he seemed to really appreciate. (Shh, I’m not crying, you’re crying.)

Oh, and apparently the fact that Martin Gay shares a birthday with his creator is a happy coincidence, brought about by the fact that that day is also the anniversary of Laika being launched into space. (Though, as the Holmes brothers would say, the universe is rarely so lazy.)

All right, I’ll just stop babbling now. The next day was spent simply wandering around; there were a couple of spots I had been wanting to go to ever since realising they held a - however tenuous - connection with my favourite shows, so I just nipped round to each of them in turn. 

The first one was the spot on London Bridge which happens to match the coordinates given for The Bunker; I had been on London Bridge before, but not on that side of the road, and here’s a couple of pictures to celebrate that moment. (Probably shouldn’t have tried to fit my face into the second one though. Sorry about that.)

The second one was Electric Avenue, which is mentioned in Time Spanner as the place where Martin Gay first meets Gabbie. There was also a very colourful market along the street, which was nice. (The second picture was taken later that afternoon, as I was about to enter the Brixton underground station to take the tube that would get me back to my hotel.)

After that, I took a bus that would bring me to Crystal Palace Park. I was really curious about it, as it’s not usually listed among the most famous tourist attractions, but I’d seen pictures of it on Instagram and it looked quite nice. Oh, and if anyone has managed to miss it so far, I also happen to really like parks, especially those in or around London.

You can bet your aunt that I was thinking of the Captain Dinosaur song from JFSP most of the time. When I wasn’t too busy worrying over the unexpected references to The Infinite Bad, that is. 

(Oh, yeah, I’d also bought a packet of custard creams in Brixton, so that I could try them for the first time. Turns out they’re absolutely delicious when dunked in tea, that’s a 5/5 from me.)

On the morning of the 3rd I just had a walk through Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens; as I’ve already mentioned I absolutely love parks, and they’re even more beautiful with the autumn colours on. 

Later that afternoon I had the chance to meet briefly with Lizzie and her boyfriend at the British Museum, which I’d never been to before. The thing is though, I’m absolutely awful at meeting people in person, no matter how long I’ve been talking to them online; and while I had already met Lizzie on a previous occasion, I was still very much my awkward self, and also quite worried about being late for the JFSP recording that was going to take place that evening. I’m really sorry, guys.

Which leads me to the actual recording; and believe me, I wasn’t quite prepared for the incredibly long queue that had formed all the way around the corner from the Broadcasting House. I was starting to think they would just turn us away at some point, but in the end I got in just fine, and I’m still incredibly grateful about that.

Given how my sticker was number 207 I was directed to the seats upstairs, and I sort of had a railing and a couple of lights in my way when it came to looking down at the stage; but it was still brilliant, and Ed Morrish was quite funny while making the safety announcements in the event of fire. A considerable number of the sketches was different from the ones I had seen at the tryouts - but I’m not going to give away any spoilers, no matter how tempted I am to do so, especially in light of what John’s tweeted right now as I’m writing this bit.

So, yeah - I’ve been to an actual recording of my favourite programme, and I still can’t quite believe my luck. I’m not going to bore you with the details of my return trip the following day; suffice to say that I was quite pleased to be able to take the tube for once - blissfully quiet at it was that early on a Saturday morning - to get to the train that would bring me to the airport.

(Oh, and I forgot to say - I flew to and from Gatwick this time, rather than Stansted as I’d done on all my previous trips. But I think it’s time I just stop writing, this post has already turned far longer than I had originally planned.)

Until the next time, London.

[skyedill-blog]

300 things that make me happy (May 11th, 2014)

  music that reminds you of something good

coldplay

doctor who

wes anderson

arctic monkeys

watercolors

my grandma’s house

my grandma

cats

dogs

my other grandma

my parents

getting money

my sisters

when my palms aren’t clammy

old photos

blogging

supernatural

cardigans

christmas lights

steel guitar strings

making movies

sleeping in

staying up all night

sunrises

candles

new converse

wifi working

biking

benedict cumberbatch

sherlock holmes

family videos

the vlogbrothers

learning something new

teaching someone something new

calvin & hobbes comic books

ampersands &&&&&

remembering something i forgot

full battery

the fault in our stars

tea

coffee

clean dishes

honey

when my sister thinks im funny

getting better from a cold

colored napkins for parties

bad music that you still like

being the first to wake up

grapefruit soda

passionate political debates without bigotry

equality

hugs

when you get to lick the spoon during baking

coming home

running away

strangers who smile back

when you and one other stranger see something funny and you smirk at each other

little kids that make faces with you

the london underground

winston churchill

colin firth

jarred telling me dumb jokes

the tylers

my cousins

when films are remade from a long time ago and they are really good

when films are remade from a long time ago and they are really bad but you see them anyway

appreciating good art

laughing at stupid pretentiously simple art

67 chevy impalas

oversized jumpers

indoles crew

chapin’s class

finding my old clothes from when i was little

the color green

sun shining through the cracks in the leaves

tia

kepler

my family in denmark

carlsberg beer

meeting strangers on buses and having nice conversations

old english women named sally

maddy because she calls me a dork and makes me laugh

my grandma’s accent

my mom’s accent

bridget’s singing voice

getting to stay up when the little cousins have to go to sleep

the kids table at thanksgiving

bread

coloring

finding out that you got accepted to college at your dream school

spaghetti

rosy cheeks

finger painting

days that my depression lifts a bit and i feel like a normal kid again

the smiths

three hole punching

getting glasses for the first time and its like you found god

old cameras

new cameras

101 dalmatians

new york city

being surrounded in books

when i do homework and dont cry

new music that i cant believe i didnt know about

internet friends

getting mad and just swearing like a sailor because damn it feels good

dean winchester because he taught me about love  

sam winchester because he taught me about forgiveness

cas because he taught me about redemption

bobby singer because he taught me that family doesnt end in blood

porch swings

boys

alex turner’s accent and hair

The number 115

triangle banners

the hotel room i stayed in when i was in berlin

trivia

brushing my teeth

morning star farms veggie sausage

during spring when the sun is up by the time i leave for school

lord of the rings and the hobbit

going to the library for class instead

apple products

white linens

top gear uk

james may’s stupid hair

maps

getting confirmation

star gazing

teaching my little cousins about science and the stars

the fact that we are all made of stardust

puns

when you know a word in a different language and you feel really cool for remembering it and connecting it wow im cool

lower case letters

newly vaccuumed carpet

the sound of stapling

muffins

shredding paper

exact change

getting homework done early

mediterranean food

karl pilkington and how much he hates everything

stephen fry quotes

obama

calling my friends nerds

waking up early

plane rides

soft socks

when family brings you home leftovers

when my step dad gives me life lessons

my cat rory. rip.

my dog seeger

les miserables

showtunes

frank sinatra

billie holiday

queen elizabeth II

james bond movies

alfred hitchcock movies

billy wilder movies and how he was a sarcastic butthead

warm paper just off the printer

freshly mowed grass

evolution theories because wow that is so cool and learning how species grew and evolved is insane

colorful kites

museums

tuesdays

old timey christmas music

the thought of moving away from home and doing something new even though its really scary

mac and cheese

when packages come for you in the mail

the feeling i had when i got my drivers license

mr. kato

pirates

when people fall asleep on your shoulder and you suddenly feel that being their pillow is your only purpose

my family in miami

winning board games

when people get their braces off

kick ass lyrics that perfectly make sense

accepting how fragile things are and being better for it

stand up comedians

rainy days that make you feel a little sad and chilly but its good to be sad sometimes

unrealistically tiny things

getting compliments from people you are trying to impress

backing out of plans you didnt really want to fufill

shows without continuity errors

when movies and tv shows say the title of the movie or tv show

colloquialisms

freckles

songs turned acoustic

quirks about people like scars or birthmarks

leonardo dicaprio because like holy crap have you seen that guy act

shakespeare

formatting errors

irony

having a good calendar

a clean house and your mom being proud of you

painting walls

finishing a good tv show or series and having a good cry

books

kissing

oragami

pepper jack cheese

concerts that make you feel like you belong somehow with all these strangers and the lights go down and you all sing

giving a waiter/waitress a good tip

writing lyrics on the back of your hands

feeling like a stupid teenager with loud music and ripped jeans which somehow feels like your own rebellion against nothing

knowing that however old i get i will still be that stupid teenager who eats cold pizza and plays my music a little too loud

listening to people talk

road trips

pranking my step-dad

filling up the gas tank all the way

my aunt tiffany’s house

peaceful people

diplomatic solutions to violent things

pianos

cool light fixtures

film scores

inventiveness

dystopian novels

finishing a long paper

basset hounds

photo booth

clark’s shoes

mayonnaise on wasa with yellow tomatoes and salt and pepper

veggie burgers with fried green tomatoes

nostalgic places

monty python

peter pan

boarding passes

butter

blue skies

overcast

shadow puppets

blanket forts

camping

the smell of mosquito spray

waterfalls

driving through the smoky mountains

bon iver

harry potter

learning about WWI and WWII

good quotes

google because without it i probably wouldnt be graduating high school

when people let me talk/encourage me to keep talking because sometimes im made fun of for talking too much

knowing weird facts about things and getting to tell people

hearing people talk about the things they love

hearing people laugh

trumpets

when people stand up for me or notice when i am being wronged without me telling them

when people remember my name

having a sub for a teacher i dont like

understanding a math concept because it is rare

riding in golf carts

weekends

christmas trees

eurovision

french

plot twists

nice patio furniture

waking up to thunderstorms

witty welcome mats

having the windows down all the way in the car and it's really cold but it feels good to feel something

tom hiddleston

that really nice business man i met on the tube several months ago

booty

getting my hair cut

those really pretty flowers in england

laying in the sunshine on the living room carpet

high waisted shorts

strawberries

pirouettes

lemonade

glitter

the rain song by led zeppelin

those erasers shaped like food

rollercoasters (not too big)

campfire smell

waking up with good hair

conchita’s beard

copenhagen

really juicy pens

horse movies

april ludgate

the sun

the moon

weeping willow trees

acing a test

alpacas

warming your hands on a hot mug

red noses after playing in the snow

watching old movies during a rainstorm

hammocks

baby toes

those pretty lights on northumberland street

mushy peas and chips

wristwatches

scratch & sniff stickers

knowing that even though i will get older and my hair will grow and my skin will wrinkle and scar and this list will be revised… that i will still be me and its okay to change… its okay to run away and make stupid choices and dye all your clothes purple and waste your money and eat cheesecake… its okay because my list will change and so will i and hating what you used to be gets nothing done and neither does hating who you are. things are changing and they wont stop. today these 300 things make me happy and one day they wont but that doenst mean i lost myself. it means i grew. i know that. that makes me happy.

moving on

[whatemmafound-blog]

With the 2018 Prudential Ride London ballot open today, now feels like a great time to discuss the highs, lows and the rolling roads of the Surry hills. My thoughts on the world’s largest sportive.

Activities started on the Friday with the Cycle Show, based in the Excel centre. With registration, lots of stands to look around and buy anything that happened to be missed off the packing list. I was excited to see so many people, all of whom I would be cycling with in the morning! It felt like I was part of something really special.

After signing on and picking up some freebies, we headed back to the hotel to sticker everything. I am not joking, my bike alone had 3 stickers. After prepping our kit, checking over the bikes and generally making sure we had everything, we went into the city centre to watch the women’s Classique. It was a tough race in the pouring rain around the streets of London, winner Corrine Rivera put in a great sprint to claim victory. Crowds of spectators were out to watch the women go head to head, despite the heavy downpour. My only comment is that the women did seem to be a warm up for the men’s road race. Maybe I am slightly biased, but as a racing woman myself, it is an area that is close to my heart. It would be amazing if the women could be given a road race and allowed the chance to take on a bigger challenge. Women’s cycling is still growing and it was clear that the race was being pushed and the organisers were taking notice as there was an emphasis on the women’s race being televised and the large prize pot. It felt a little -how can we fit in a women’s race? Gender equality debate aside, it was a great race, around a great circuit.

After a rather large pasta and pizza combo, it was off to bed for as much sleep as possible before the brutal alarm clock woke us at 3:45.

Starting before sunrise. We followed the flow of other sleepy cyclists on the wet roads from the night’s rainfall to the start. The chill in the air made for a brisk cycle to the old Olympic park. It was great to see such a mix of cyclists, abilities and bikes. I have a lot of respect for the guy who showed up on the Boris City Bike, not sure if he managed to finish, but I really hope so! We had the challenge of different start times meaning I was an hour early and Simon had to wait an hour at the first drinks station for me. It seems a lot of people were in the same position which kind of makes the timing chips pointless. The organisers did a great job at getting everyone on the road. 30,000 cyclists were drip fed onto a beautiful course that soon dried up in the morning sunshine.

Sweeping through the closed streets of London and out towards Richmond Park, I was surprised to see how many people had turned out to watch and support. Clapping and cheering every cyclist that rode past, ringing bells and singing, the crowd defiantly gave the ride a buzz of excitement. It is funny how you feel the need to be on the right side of the road, despite it being fully closed. There were not even any parked cars!

I have ridden with a lot of cyclists, on mass events, sportives and races but this was on another level. At times there was hardly room to move but most were careful and sensible. If you intend on riding next year, defiantly try and ride in some groups, it will help your confidence. It made some a little nervous, and there was some touching of wheels. Most stayed safe but inevitably crashes did happen. The event was really well marshalled with road furniture clearly marked and lots of signs helping you to be aware of what is coming up.

Once out into the open countryside, the miles ticked down quickly as town after town turned out to show their support. Regular food and drinks stations meant that there was never a concern for supplies. Clif and Graze provided food supplies and Nuun electrolyte tabs were handed out at drink stops.

The climbs were beautiful. Leith hill, a tree covered road that climbs through the woodlands ramps up to 11% in places. It was made slightly more challenging by the amount of other cyclists all riding at different paces. As a general rule walkers stayed left and faster riders kept right meaning picking our way through was easy enough. We made our way to the winding descent that flows through the town of Dorking and up towards the infamous Box Hill. The climb is lovely, the road surface makes for smooth pedalling and the interesting artwork that was commissioned for the Olympics adds interest and history to the hill. The steady gradient doesn’t go beyond 6% and the view over Surry is spectacular. It is easy to see why so many Londoners head out that way for a beautiful ride.

Once over the climb, the ride is essentially all downhill, 40 miles of closed roads through towns and villages. Picking up speed as you can feel the finish line getting closer and closer. The ramp up out of Wimbledon hurts, rounding the corner and up the rise, you come out of town and over the bridge towards the Mall. When the tarmac turns the famous shade of red as banners and flags flash by, you begin to see how many people are watching. It is so exciting to have people banging the barriers for you and your fellow riders who after 100 miles are all pretty pleased to see Buckingham Palace.

Water, Clif bars and medals are handed out as you make your way to the bag drop. The men’s road race rolls in about 6 pm, there are screens, food vans and a secure bike park to ensure you have everything you need for the rest of the day. It felt great dropping the bikes off, chucking on my trainers and resting up in the park to watch the pros ride the same roads you have just ridden.

With the race over we had a short ride to catch a well-organised ferry that had been arranged especially for the Ride London. Overall the day is really smooth, transport was well considered and the city really embraces the weekend. We had a recovery Pizza (Papa Johns – I don’t even feel bad) for dinner and got some rest. It was well worth staying the extra night as we had a really chilled out morning before the 3-hour drive home.

My Top Tips: • Book your hotel early – as soon as you get your spot! • Prep your bike, kit and nutrition the night before – you will be too tired first thing, make sure you can grab and go! • Stop strategically – some stops have food, mechanics and drinks. Others just water. Plan your top up stops so you only carry what you need. • Inner tubes – take plenty, we saw so many people puncture for no apparent reason. Check your tyres, pressure, and carry spares. • Train with groups – it is easy to train on your own, but practice riding in close groups. Talk to other riders and be aware. Going down because of a touch of wheels or crossing lines is not fun or pretty. • Plan your route home – after the race is over the city is really busy. Make sure you know where you are going and how to get back. • Train – distance is not so much of a worry for me or those used to racking up the miles, but if you are not used to long hours in the saddle you will notice. Check your position, saddle comfort and practice eating and drinking on the bike. Your legs will thank you. I saw a lot of people struggling and becoming over-fatigued. Make sure you put in some long miles in the lead up to the event. • Have fun – these are closed roads in and around London! Enjoy them, car free and with fellow cyclists. ☺

If you decide to enter next year, good luck! You will love it!

Enter for 2018!

My thoughts on the world’s largest sportive. #prudentialridelondon #cycling With the 2018 Prudential Ride London ballot open today, now feels like a great time to discuss the highs, lows and the rolling roads of the Surry hills.

[furdiesentag]

Sa. Mai 20

I bound out of bed unusually refreshed and in a venturous mood, so I favour I shall ‘do’ Schloß Charlottenburg. Disembarking the U at Richard-Wagner-Platz, I pause to capture a snapshot. This is another quirk of my new life I’ve come to notice. Tourists in London or New York might snap a generic snap of this subway sign or that tube logo just for the overall memory. But here I find so many station interiors so inherently imbued with personality and craftsmanship that I deem it criminal to pass without demonstrating my appreciation, and so find myself collecting photos like baseball cards. The seemingly simple positioning and colourplay betwixt the bi-palette of metro-tiling in this particular station renders me bewitched. 

Making my aussteig from the station, I’m stopped in my tracks once again by a stunning sequence of mosaics that appear to have little old moi as their one hand clapping. Perchance folk here have had their fill already, but still, meeting the thousand yard stare of my betiled brethren, I waggle a disbelieving head and apologetically try to appreciate this moment extra-hard to make up for the aesthetic sins of my fellow passengers.

Once outside, I’m confronted by another of my photographic sticker-book moments - the Berlin Bären. Alright, I’ve seen a good dozen and haven’t yet taken it upon myself to research quite what they are or indeed why they are - but as I said in an earlier post, I bloody love bears, me. So funny looks be frigged: I sink onto bended knee for ample angle and tick this blighter off my as-yet-unseen list, before traipsing on schloß-bound.

[cassidy-malta]

March 30: God Save the Cass

I'm not an emotional person but I was pretty much constantly crying in London so I guess I'm getting old.

(Probably the most London picture I'll ever take)

Where do I begin?! This weekend I added another event to my "Things to do when you're either very stupid or very brave" and I packed up my backpack and hopped on a plane to England- ALL BY MYSELF. Let's pretend I woke up and leapt out of bed, excited to take on this new adventure (I woke up at 4:45 for an early flight so there was no leaping or excitement for a couple hours). I took a death defying taxi ride through the city and boarded my plane with no issues. I tried to read some homework (Amouris Laetitia by Pope Francis) but instead simply slept the entire flight.

I landed Turbulently in Birmingham, UK and was promptly interviewed by a border patrol agent.

"What brings you here? Holiday?" -the seemingly kind agent

"Yeah, visiting a friend. He's from the states. I'm from the States too but you probably know that because you're holding my passport. You know it says I'm from North Dakota but I haven't lived there for like 17 years so should I say I'm from North Dakota or Minne-" -me, before getting cut off by a now-annoyed English border agent

"How much money are you planning on spending?"

I just laughed nervously until she stamped my passport and ushered me away.

I promptly discovered that I had booked tickets to Nottingham leaving from the wrong station so I frantically managed to get a quick train to the proper station where my pal Karl picked me up. He's studying abroad with a Luther program like I am, except his program is a full academic year and based out of Nottingham. Karl showed off his stomping ground to me. He took me through Wollaston Park, saw "Wayne Manor" from the Batman movies, begrudgingly took me to the city circle, and he even continued to talk to me after I DESTROYED him at Scrabble (I gloat. A lot.). He gave me two days full of R&R- much needed time to rejuvenate as I've now hit the halfway point in my experience.

(Karl was such a good sport- we even went out for coffee after his humiliating defeat)

Sunday morning I rushed to the train station to catch my 10:30 train to London only to fight with the ticket teller when my train didn't show up. He pointed out that my ticket was for Saturday afternoon. I didn't like that answer.

(I learned that I love riding on trains. Especially when it is this roomy.)

£30 later, I was on a train to London! I gazed longingly out at the English countryside in an effort to mimic literary characters and authors alike before caving to boredom and watching the pilot episode of The Crown on Netflix to prepare myself. The train pulled into Pancras Station (not to be pronounced as Pancreas) and jogged across the street to Kings Cross Station to see Platform 9 3/4. I suddenly was overwhelmed with happy tears- the first time since my parents surprised me with a trip to Disney when I was 6. I, Cassidy Woods, have wanted to see this Harry Potter location since I first picked up a book in 3rd grade and there I was, staring at it. I had planned this trip all on my own- traveled by myself, exercised ALL of my self sufficiency and independence to land right there in Kings Cross Station. Even more empowering than successfully clapping back at someone on Facebook or standing on a stage accepting a scholarship or award or crown (although those experiences have proven to be some of the most empowering).

(I decided not to stand in line for 2 hours, so this picture had to suffice)

Don't worry though, my ego was almost instantly deflated by the London tube system. To all of you on Facebook, email, twitter, etc. that said it was easy, I have a serious beef with you. I confidently and excitedly walked into the Kings Cross Underground Station, took a solid look around, and decided the two miles wouldn't be too bad of a walk.

I spent my first afternoon in London exploring the Wellcome Collection (I once used a woodcut owned by the museum as a resource in one of my papers- I've wanted to go see the collection of medical oddities ever since) and then walked another mile or so to the British Museum (I can now say that I have accidentally stumbled upon the Rosetta Stone). I made my way to Piccadilly square with NO inkling as to what it was (London Times Square), watched street performers, are cheap Chinese, and marveled at how tired I was. When my friend Lexa was finally free, I rushed to Baker Street to meet with her and mooch off her free lodging.

(I miss my mummy - a text sent to my mother with this picture. Tell me I'm funny.)

(For some reason, finding an Easter Island Head was a priority of mine. I hate to admit that I walked by this many times before I looked up and saw it)

(They're pretty proud of Baker Street's Sherlock association)

Saturday I adventured out with the sole intention of seeing the touristy sights. I braved the tube (it made so much more sense with a map- it's so easy omg) and emerged from Westminster station to walk by old buildings only to stop dead in my tracks.

I had stumbled right into the site of the terrorist attacks. The old building I passed was Big Ben. I was surrounded by people and flowers. I shakily proceeded, not sure what to expect. I remembered my confusion and solemness as I visited the 9/11 memorial my sophomore year of high school but no such feelings arose this time. To visit the sight of a massacre just days after the attack... there aren't words. For the second time, London moved me to tears- no, London moved me to sobs. I walked the path that people walked just last Wednesday and were killed. I watched cars speed past me on a road that a single man veered off of to commit this crime. I felt utterly helpless. The attack was more real to me than any attack has ever been in my life. The victims now had faces and desires. They weren't foreign strangers. They were just like me.

Flowers were everywhere. Notes of well wishing, patches from police departments, flags from across the world, stickers, and candles peppered the sidewalks, gates, and fences. Police walked around freely, conversing with tourists and pedestrians, even accepting donations. There wasn't a vigil or gathering there which struck me. For these Londoners- the best and perhaps only strategy they have in the wake of such senseless violence is to move forward. Life continues. They refuse to be afraid or let this event incapacitate them. They stagger onwards in the most admirable of ways- as if they have a choice in the matter.

I took this sudden unexpected wave of emotions into Westminster Abbey where I took the tour and lit a candle (highly recommend this attraction!). I walked to the London Eye before trekking to Buckingham palace (the queen was in so cass was out). I took the tube to Maxwell's Bar and Grill where I got a hamburger with two cups of melted cheese to smother it in (ever been simultaneously satisfied and disgusted before?) before wandering Piccadilly and Oxford circuses for a couple hours.

(Hands down the most touristy picture I have ever taken. Both proud and disgusted)

(I accidentally found China)

Finally it was time for one of the most anticipated events of the weekend: The Warner Brothers Studio Tour - The Making of Harry Potter. My little nerdy heart soared and I spent 3 hours perusing the props, original costumes, film secrets, and gift shop. The experience was filled with awe-filled gasps and was overall magical! For any Harry Potter fan big or small, I could not recommend this tour enough. You really feel like one of the cast and it certainly reignited a love for Harry Potter that had been dimmed with age.

(the first part of the tour was the Great Hall in all of its glory. I don't think my jaw left the floor.)

(I got my Platform 9 3/4 photo!)

(The highlight of the tour was a scale model of the castle)

My third and final day began with a long walk. I wish I could say it was an intentional, healthful 2 mile walk through London's SouthBank, but in all honesty I got off at the wrong tube stop and was too stubborn to correct my error. I walked along the Thames and treated myself to a bubble waffle (why have I never seen these before!?!?!?) until my eyes were able to feast upon my single goal for the day: Shakespeare's Globe.

My mom calls me a huge geek for my Shakespearean affinity but what's not to love? Complex writing, hidden messages, jokes, drama, death, and a deep socio-political history. Not to mention that Shakespeare created a ton of the English language. The Globe theatre and exhibition were both super informative and simply fun to be a part of.

(A recreation of the original but still historically magnificent)

(Street art outside of the Globe underneath London Bridge)

I spent my final afternoon shopping once again, this time at the outskirts of Hyde Park. I once again retreated in tears when I saw the bloodied victim of a car accident. I've never seen a human laying in a pool of their own blood so it was quite the traumatic sight, requiring a phonecall to mom and a few calming moments before fleeing the scene. The trip ended by catching a train to the London Luten airport (if possible, avoid this airport at all costs. VERY crowded, disorganized, and undergoing construction). I returned to Malta a new and refreshed woman, ready to take on two weeks of academics before my next adventure - Morocco (Africa- eep!!!).

(British English has worn off on me)

Last week I loved answering your questions and was shocked by how many there were. Please feel free at any given moment to send in a question and I'll either answer it in my next post or shoot you an email/message/whatever. Thank you all for your support, love, and mail (especially the pre-emotive birthday greeting -thanks Sherri!).

Until next week!

[boozedancing]

LOS ANGELES – All of the Southland’s eyes were focused on the whisky world as The Whisky Extravaganza came to town for its annual visit in 2016’s November. The Millennium Biltmore Hotel in Downtown LA was the cushy site for a second year in a row so that the hoi and the polloi of the local whisky community could gather and sample drams from distilleries near and far; mostly far since this is California, not Edinburgh. Extravaganza is still king of the hill in Los Angeles for these big events in large part because of who is putting it all together.

Lauren Shayne Mayer, part of the Shayne Clan, has made The Extravaganza, with her co-conspirator sister, Gabby, a world renown event with its many venues across the country. No details are forgotten. It’s an evening that runs like a well-oiled machine which is perfect since the attendees are pretty well-oiled by night’s end. Ms. Mayer and her staff attend to all of the little things as well as the big ones. The food is top notch and the whiskies are too. Historically speaking, it’s an event that has tended to feel like a sophisticated evening, and the attire of the buying public matches that feel. Suits and ties might be the norm for a big, formal, muckity-muck corporate event, but whisky folks can show up in jeans, cargo shorts and tube tops. Extravaganza is not that kind of show.

It’s an evening where one sees contemporaries a bit out of context, i.e., all dressed up. And the LA whisky community cleans up rather nicely. Beards are trimmed and waxed, shoes are polished, and dresses are an appropriate length (and worn!). This all goes back to Ms. Mayer & Co. doing something different on the whisky calendar, i.e. CLASSING IT UP! And that classing up changes the vibe of the evening in so many ways. One, forks are used. Two, “thank you” is often heard at the various booths after a pour. And three, no fires. A winning combination all because a Windsor knot was tied and a jacket without a zipper was worn. The little things can make an event, and here Ms. Mayer has pushed the community to treat the evening and the whisky with the respect that they deserve. Respect the whisky and it will respect you.

The whisky ranged from comfortable favorites to new expressions; age statements and NAS-ers; relaunched brands to new labels. All of the bases were covered by the various distilleries in attendance.

The ambassadors ranged as well, which is always a bit of inside baseball to the geeky attendees “in the know”…

“He’s a rookie.”

“She used to be with Brand X.”

“That’s quite a fake brogue but who cares, he’s hot!”

“Free stickers!”

We spoke to Ms. Mayer on a variety of topics about Extravaganza and where the Shayne family is going now. Last year they sold the Whisky Extravaganza to London-based IWSC Group. Now the family will concentrate its efforts on Spirit Imports that brings in premium spirits to the United States.

Lauren Shayne Mayer and Gabby Shayne of Spirit Imports, aka The Whisky Sisters

The West Coast Office: The few Extravaganzas that I’ve attended in Los Angeles always felt like it was “your baby”, Lauren, a very special event. I said to my wife that it must be like the three bar mitzvahs that we’ve had for our kids (which she did 99% of the work on). Think I said the same to you that night.  Your fingerprints are all over every aspect of the event. What made Extravaganza special to you over the years?

Lauren Mayer: It’s the attendees, the beautiful whiskies, good food and most of all the camaraderie that to me, makes this event so special! It is not very often that you get 400+ like-minded, whisky drinking consumers/enthusiasts together in one room celebrating the water of life! The Whisky Extravaganza offers that and I sure do think that is ‘special’!

The WCO: It seems like less and less brands are wanting to spend the dollars to exhibit at shows anymore. WhiskyLive in Los Angeles last year could have been held in a good size walk-in closet. And the public may be suffering from whisky show fatigue. What’s the freaking deal with shows?!

LM: First, these type of whisky shows are popping up everywhere – how is a brand supposed to choose which show will offer the best ROI?! I think the future holds them, but marketing companies are becoming more strategic when planning for participation in them.

I think (and I don’t know this for a fact) but the budgets that the brands are given for these consumer trade shows, have gone from a national budget to an individual market budget, so it is quite costly for a local brand team, in the scheme of things, to participate in each and every show. With that said, each one of these types of events/exhibits offers their own ‘bang for the buck” so both the brands and the consumers buying tickets are really becoming picky to which show they attend. The Whisky Extravaganza has had many long standing relationships with both the brands and the consumers, so I feel this event is the BEST!

We have always been a traditionally heavy Scotch Whisky focused event and it was only two years ago that we opened it up to the whole whiskey category. That has definitely expanded our brand participation and consumer attendance.

The WCO: I know this is the end of the line with Extravaganza for you and your family on the organization and ownership side. I’m sure you’ve “seen it all” over the years. Tell me the craziest thing you’ve ever seen or experienced at one. I’m guessing Marshall Naiman (LA Scotch Club member) is involved in a Los Angeles show story. Just guessing. But no names, please! Incriminating pictures are encouraged though.

LM: There are so many gross disgusting things I have seen along the years, but not sure we want that promoted!

I have surely seen it all, but the craziest/funniest thing I have seen was at the launch of “The Whisky Panel”, a symposium made of brand ambassadors, that attendees had the opportunity to sit through 1 hour before the main event. Alan Shayne [Lauren’s father] was the host and would ask questions that the attendees wrote down on a note card. Some of these questions were directly to Alan for answer and every time he would try to pass [the question] onto the brand ambassador to answer per their brand.

Well, one question came in and Alan, for the life of him, couldn’t answer it and turned to one of [the ambassadors] for some friendly help! The brand ambassadors thought it would be funny to embarrass [him], and so they would say the craziest answers…. Alan had no clue they were messing with him and it really became a “Stump the Drunk” type of conversation! SO FUNNY!

The WCO: I’m giving you a Whisky Show Magic Wand® (via Amazon) and a semi-unlimited budget: Create a new, exciting whisky show. Go nuts. No petting zoo or airbrush tattoos though. What are all the elements in your new show?

LM: AGHH – Such a fun question and I seriously don’t have an answer! Live entertainment in my opinion is always a plus. Sets the mood, right? Great whisky, good food, GREAT FUN!!!

The WCO: It’s the end of the night of the last show in the series. Vendors are paid. Marshall has finally left with his pockets stuffed with God knows what. Shoes are kicked off. What’s your last whisky to celebrate?

LM: During the show, I walked over to Glenmorangie table for some 18 YO Extremely Rare and filled my snifter up. I then hid that glass under the registration table until the end of the night, walked it right up to my room and as soon as I sat down, added a few drops of water and enjoyed! Delicious every time I sip it!

The WCO: Tell me a little about the future of Spirit Imports. Seems like exciting times ahead.

LM: Too many fun things! And we are really excited about them! More single casks, more blends, rare rums, award winning products, creative marketing, effective advertising – we hope to offer it all!

____________________________________________

We don’t know what the future holds for Whisky Extravaganza without Lauren and Gabriele Shayne running the shows, but the past has been spectacular. They made the events personal statements about their love of whisky, and made the guests feel special instead of like simple ticket buyers. And they figured out long ago that once in a great while, it just feels nice to dress up, look like a grown-up and taste some nice whisky with friends.

.@AaronMKrouse discusses @TheWhiskyExtrav Lauren Mayer Shayne of @Spirit_Imports. LOS ANGELES – All of the Southland's eyes were focused on the whisky world as The Whisky Extravaganza…

[buttonstravels]

Abroad: U.K. Part 2. In Support of Richmond Fontaine.

Covers: October 18th - 24th

When we left off, Quinn and I were worried he wouldn’t have a way to get back into Germany due to his technical overstay and the possibility that German bureaucracy wouldn’t be able to deal with such a sudden request.  Going with him to his visa appointment the morning of the 18th, everything turned out to be okay and he now has a sticker in his passport that easily served as his residency permit for the month.

We headed back to the apartment, packed our backpacks—travel light!—and got on the train to Frankfurt.  We got in around 7:00, checked into our hostel, and went on a mission to the Apfelwein Haus that we’d been to after a trip to Saarbrücken when living in Kassel.  You bet I got a classic German dinner before disappearing to Great Britain for a week: schnitzel with grüne Soße, potatoes, and Apfelwein.

We passed out in our hostel that night, and woke up at about 7:30 to take the train to the airport, get checked in, and get on our flight at 10:55.  Along the way, I found myself having to remember to respond to people in english.  On the plane, I was looking for the bathroom, and one of the flight attendants, in his lovely british accent, showed me.  My response was a painfully american-sounding “danke.”

Passport control in Heathrow was a pain to go through, but I’m sure non-American citizens would say the same thing about any US airport.  The line was incredibly long, and we had to fill out weirdly personal papers detailing our visit.  Once through that, though, we made a fast lunch stop (I had my first sandwich with an avocado in months!) and hopped on the ultra-bougie Heathrow Express to Paddington Station.  This is where the trip gets insanely train-y and name-drop-y.

We stopped in Paddington, which was where I had my first moment in Britain of that butterfly-excitement of adventure.  Coming out of the Heathrow Express and into the huge, very open Paddington Station and immediately being swept up in the human traffic had a sense of magic that I hadn’t felt for a very long time.  From Paddington, we hopped on the London tube to King’s Cross, where I took a quick peek at “Platform 9 3/4,” which was definitely not between Platforms 9 and 10, and rather just a line of kids in the middle of the station trying to get a photo with a Gryffindor scarf.

I was so excited and then SO disappointed.

Then, we were off to Leeds.  The train went past so many provincial towns that reminded me of something out of Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life, and I couldn’t even put in earbuds because I just wanted to hear everyone’s accents. 

Off the train, and we were a five minute walk from the train station to the hostel. We checked in, changed out of travel clothes, and set up our beds, then we were off to Hebden Bridge so as not to miss a moment of Jerry Joseph.

Hebden Bridge, only about an hour outside of Leeds, looks like a McMenamin’s theme park.  Everything looks like the Kennedy School and Edgefield.  We found ourselves in a pub called the Trades Club, which is a co-op space, holding drum classes, varying start-up food businesses, and (Quinn’s favorite) microbrew IPAs.

And then Jerry Joseph took the stage.

How many people can say they travelled 650 miles to see an opening act?

He came out playing “Think On These Things”—which I don’t know as well as his other songs since I’ve only ever heard it live—but by the chorus I was singing along, and he looked in my direction, furrowed his brow, I nodded with a smile, and the look of surprise on his face was everything I’d waited for.  It was shock, wonder, and then joy.  The exact same joy I was feeling.

A side note about my relationship to Jerry Joseph.  He and his band, the Jackmormons, have managed to take the spot of favorite musician(s) in my heart with jamming dad rock melodies, excellent guitar solos, and truthful lyrics that I have always connected to (well, since I was old enough to be able to).  Over the years, I’ve gained attention at shows for being the youngest superfan in attendance.  Then here I was, representing my entire family.

After Jerry Joseph finished his set, the second opening act came on and Jerry came down to chat with Quinn and I for a couple of minutes.  He asked if we were going to be in Nottingham the following day, and I got my chance to tell him the show was sold out and we did not have tickets.  His response was a nonchalant, “oh, I’ll get you on the list.”  And there it was, we were on the list.  I had Jerry Joseph’s phone number and email, and we would make it work.

When Richmond Fontaine came out, the set was awesome.  The guys were funny, upbeat enough to sway to, and the house loved them.  Quinn was excited, since he’d grown up hearing their music.

After the show, we hopped on the last train back to Leeds and crashed hard in the hostel from a day of constant movement.

Quinn and I were not to be slowed down for a moment, though.  It was a Thursday in Leeds, which we had decided we loved, and we were gonna see it all.  We asked the lady working at the front desk what was most interesting to see in Leeds with just a few hours.  Her response was the Armory with a stop at the Leeds Minster.

Why not, we figured.  We started off wandering, first, enjoying the elegant British architecture of buildings on the main street, the town hall, and a couple churches in the middle of town.

Trying to capture the gestalt of a city is hard.  But please take note of the CARS GOING THE WRONG WAY.

Feeling a bit peckish for a snack, we accidentally ended up in a giant marketplace, very reminiscent of Seattle’s Pike Place.  The building was rather unassuming, and then we walked in, and there were smells everywhere of fish, thai food, pies, and varying other street foods.  There were flower shops, cheap clothing shops, odds & ends shops…there was an all-out fabric store!  It was such a wonderful find.

Seriously, this is just the entrance.  It kept going for a square block and a half.  It was bigger than Powell’s!

So with some mussamun curry and pad se ew, we started walking toward the Minster.  And let me say, everything about British churches is different from mainland European ones except maybe the stained glass.  When I think about the Kölner Dom versus this Leeds church, my mind sees very opposite visions of the worship of God.  The Kölner Dom is massive, magnificent, but dark.  It’s all about tall spires, curves, and an overwhelmingly large, dim interior.  It is about the power of God.  The Leeds Minster, and all other British churches I saw, was very rectangular, and while it wasn’t plain in the least, it did not seem to invoke the almighty power of The Church.

Left: See the architecture based on rectangles, rather than tall, spires, as in the Elisasbethkirche in Marburg or the Kölner Dom.  Right: This was when I just needed to take a moment.

The interior was also incredibly light.  It felt like a place to be together and express love of God.  I felt so in awe and joyous being in that church.  Not to mention, the Father wanted to tell us all kinds of stories and point out new additions.

But we were on a mission to see the Armory before we had to hit a train to Nottingham.  And in just a five minute walk, we had arrived.  Quinn’s not the biggest fans of museums, and I have very little interest in humans finding more ways to destroy each other, but it was free, so we figured we might as well. And then we walked inside.  Not thirty feet ahead of the entrance was the most amazingly designed stairwell.

Literally called the tower of steel.

Around the outside of this display you walked to each floor, with different themes.  The first was an interactive history of war that was set up more like an art museum than the random collections of artifacts we’d seen in some other museums.  There was a volley of arrows hanging on the ceiling, spots where you could touch a weapon and it would explain to you how to use it, and beautiful dioramas.

But before long, we had to catch our train to Nottingham.  Having been told by a pub owner, rather wryly, “that it’s a really lovely town,” Quinn and I didn’t have high hopes.

I think, had Leeds not been so much fun, Nottingham would have actually been a lovely town.  But it had an odd air to it that just did not feel very welcoming.  But we knew we didn’t need to be there long anyway, so it wasn’t too bad.  We went to a pub near the hostel (where I got my first pie) and headed to The Maze where we’d get to show off being on “the list.”

Being on “the list” was less impressive than we’d hoped, because it was just “Please let Bria Robertson and Friend in,” but it was still oddly gratifying.  Jerry changed up a couple of his songs—there were only four to start with—but it was a spirited set.  The sets from the other two bands were nearly identical, and probably would have been more fun to listen to had the previous day not ended so late and this one started so early.

Collapsing in the hostel that night was comforting, sleeping in sheets that were a plaid Union Jack, and it only excited me to make it out to Wales and the tiny Whitchurch.

[followmyfernweh]

Stonehenge, Bath, and Contiki Family

The next morning I woke up more excited than I had been this entire trip. The night before was awful. I know this might sound trivial, but the people that I originally traveled with, were no better. I was packing up my things, getting ready for the next day, when I realized that I didn’t want to carry around a coffee mug I purchased with me for the rest of my month in Europe. I don’t ever buy myself souvenirs,  but this mug from Hampton Court covered in gorgeous insects, was my only token I took from my time in London. I rushed to their room, and asked if they could take the mug home with them for me so I don’t break it. They refused, saying they didn’t have enough room in their luggage. I don’t think it was the fact that they wouldn’t take the mug for me that upset me the most, it was the build up of frustration I had with them the entire trip. They were so selfish this entire time, only doing things for themselves and worrying about shopping (which is why they ran out of room btw, too many new items and had to buy an entirely new suitcase). I was so beside myself that they couldn’t do this one thing for me, and I just ran back to my room and cried. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. They had completely ruined this first leg of the trip for me and I couldn’t understand how they could be so selfish. I remember Vanessa walked back into the room because she forgot her umbrella and it was so awkward, but she sat and listened and let me vent. She was so kind. I wish I would have added her on facebook so I could have kept in touch. Stupid LO. 

The next morning came, and I was ready to move on from that part of the trip with them, but first, Bath! We arrived early in the morning, getting a nice little tour around the town, and we promptly arrived at the old Roman Baths. They were so lovely. I kept to myself, not really entertaining their conversations to me. I was over their attitudes. When you get to the baths, you start up top and make your way through this museum area, with lots of artifacts and information they have collected over the years, and make your way downstairs to the actual area where the people bathed. The water looked disgusting honestly, but it was just so ethereal. Something so other-worldy about being there, taking such a large step back in time in an instant. I loved it. 

Soon after we went to Stonehenge. You thought Bath was taking a step back in time LO? Think again. These stones were MASSIVE. It’s funny how you see images of such an iconic structure your entire life, and when you finally get there, it’s just completely different. I was just silent the entire time. That is how I usually react. When I finally experience what I’ve dreamed of, just awe. I walked around the stones twice, taking in every inch and angle I could. I listened to the electronic tour guide and learned as much about the stones that I could (not that I remember any of it lol), and let the wind tangle my hair. We rode the little bus back to the main gates, got some food, and hopped back on the coach. It was my last ride with this lovely group of old geezers I came to know in a short few days. I was going to miss that funny Aussie guy and his dad, not that I can remember their names, I’m just writing this so I don’t ever forget about them. We finally arrived back in London. I couldn’t get off the coach fast enough. I said my quick goodbyes to Emma, Vanessa, and the other two travelers I came with. I grabbed my bag, hopped in a black cab, and headed off to my next destination: A. A had just arrived in London that day and was waiting for me at the hotel near our Contiki meet up and the Contiki Basement. This began the start of the trip that would change my life forever, in so many amazing ways. Yet, the best thing that came out of this entire trip, was my friendship with A. We weren’t really close at all before this. I knew him for years, worked for his dad and picked him and his sister up from school. We weren’t strangers at all either, and he was obviously comfortable enough with me, to agree to coming on this trip with me. It was different though,and it is SO different now. I can’t imagine my life without him. I don’t think he even realizes how much he means to me now, but after going through what we were about to go through together, experiencing those sights and moments together, there is no way he couldn’t. That isn’t what this is about though. I got off track. Back to my trip.

I rush to the hotel and A is waiting for me in the room. I plopped down on my bed, exhausted, and realized that the bed was shit. Serious downgrade from the Insight tour rooms, but it didn’t matter. I was so happy to be away from those two. A and I caught up, I asked how his flight and tube ride was, and we both decided to relax until it was time for us to check in to our trip. When that time came, we walked a few blocks down to the Contiki Basement and waited for our tour manager to arrive. A few minutes later, some of the people we had been talking to for months arrived. It was so nice to finally meet these people I’d grown to call my friends over Facebook from all over the world. Once the majority of us arrived, Jake, our tour manager from Australia introduced himself, as well as Rasto, our bus driver. We got these little stickers that we had to put on our shirts, and were told to go to the bar upstairs to mingle with other travelers and get to know one another. We headed to the pub, grabbed some beers, and got to know each other. A had his first legal beer, since he was 18. Grabbed some pub food, and had a great time. Soon after, we said goodnight to our new friends and headed back to our hotel. Once we got back though, A realized that he really hadn’t seen much of London. Out of a blast of adrenaline from excitement, we decided that we wanted to do a late night bus tour of London, looked online for one, and booked it. We only had a short amount of time to get there, so we grabbed our jackets and ran out the door. In the elevator, we bumped into two girls who also had those little contiki stickers on. We mentioned what we were doing and they asked if they could tag along, so why not?! We hopped on the tube, and off we went. 

Man did I wish that I had brought a warmer jacket. A did too, he was freezing. We wanted to sit on top of the bus without the roof so we could get nicer pictures, and we did….for a little while. I took a picture of A up there, it’s still my favorite of him to this day. The lights were so gorgeous at night, and let me tell you LO, this one evening revived your love for London. That sour taste you had from those two before washed away with the laughter that rang out from that bus that night. Huddled in the warmth of the interior of the bus, you found the love you wanted for that city. The London night lights stole your heart. 

Those two girls were not on our trip, so once the night was over, we said our final goodbye, and headed off to bed. We had to be up at the ass crack of dawn the next morning to check in our luggage for the coach, and then we were heading off to Amsterdam. This first day of my Contiki trip, little did I know, was the start of the best experience I would ever have. 

I can’t wait to reflect on this amazing time some more. I should have done this a long time ago.

-traveLO-