Tew Rrrrrrrrrright

Leaving in five hours for the Castle's midterm trip to Brussels and Paris, so this is just a quick look at some places I visited while traveling around in Scotland. Text to come!

Harry Potter...it's getting a little ridiculous

I keep having dreams that I'm Harry Potter. There is more than one thing wrong with this. First, of all I'm not a wizard (biggest disappointment of life), and second of all, I don't think Harry ever had to fight zombies.

My first HP dream happened about two weeks ago. I, along with some of my enchanted friends (the numbers varied), attempted to fight off an attack of angry zombies, who were trying to take over the world. Pretty much the fate of mankind was in my hands - lot's of pressure since I was the 'Chosen One'. The problem was that I didn't think to use my wand..or maybe it wasn't working. Instead, the killing process (as much as you can kill zombies) involved jamming knives into their heads....it was a bloody business, and I don't mean bloody in the British way, like I'm not swearing. It was actually quite gruesome.  I can't remember if Team Magic was successful or not...

My second dream happened last night. I was with Hermione (who, upon waking, I realized had been Gaeby) and we were concocting a special potion to aid us on a secret adventure that would surely save the world. She was going to hide it, along with some other necessary wizardry objects, in this large obvious container, and I said 'Why don't we use that much smaller container instead?' and she said 'OMG that's such a better idea, you're so smart!', which is funny coming from Hermione because she knows everything...kind of like Gaeby....OH MY GOSH maybe my unconscious mind is making some really valid connections!!!! However I'm not sure about the whole saving the world business...please someone analyze my dreams and tell me what they mean.

Yet it was very fitting that I dreamt of HP last night because today we had a field study in London, where we visited Harrow. This all-boys school is steeped in history, and its graduates include Lord Byron, Winston Churchill (plus 16 other British prime ministers) and plenty of other famous men who I didn't know. The trip was for my Children's Lit class, and we're methodically working our way towards reading the first HP book. The whole class is focused upon the Schoolboy novel.. so it makes sense I guess that I dreamt of Harry...except that I WAS Harry....I think living in a Castle is getting to me.

This school is so embedded in English culture that they have a museum. Here is a picture of my friend Katie (she's from Manitoba!) kissing a model of a British schoolboy. While we didn't actually get to see any of the boys (aged 13-18) as they were all conveniently visiting St. Paul's Cathedral to celebrate the 440th anniversary of the founding of their school by John Lyon, who was given a Charter to build the school by Queen Elizabeth I, we did get to see this one solitary figure...

You Know You're In England When.....

Before I tell this story, you must understand that living in the country necessarily means that we are surrounded by wild animals at all times. In my case, these critters range broadly from rabbits to first-years. Every morning and every evening, and even sometimes throughout the day, I see little rabbits munching on grass at the edges of Bader (my res). It is a constant source of awe and amusement, and we never get tired of seeing their ears prick up at the sound of our approach, and their tentative gaze before flipping around and prancing away, their cotton tails bouncing behind them (so cute). 

This morning, not so cute. It's common to see small groups of people, usually three our four adults, taking walks around the area with their dogs. Walking back from breakfast today, my friends and I noticed that this particular group had two dogs....one of which had the flopping carcass of a rabbit dangling from its mouth. Needless to say we were all horrified and had to stifle our exclamations of protest as to not offend the victorious hunting party. Upon further observation, I noted that one of the dogs strongly resembled a wolf, and was likely the culprit of the crime. The other dog was a scruffy patchy pup who couldn't have possibly caught the bunny, and yet was carrying it proudly between his jaws. I'm guessing that the former is the catcher, and the latter is the designated carrier. Such teamwork....it makes me sick.

So there you go, an account of a genuine English experience: watching the return of a successful hunt. 

Also, yesterday I entered my room to find a fat squirrel being cheeky on my window sill. After yelling unrepeatable slurs in its direction (at which it took off) I saw that it had been into my honey roasted peanuts, which were now scattered across my desk. I though it was kind of funny...and really I should have seen it coming, but mostly I was frustrated about losing my nuts. 

Bloody countryside.

Zu Den Zügen

Waking up at 4 am is never a fun time, unless it's to catch a flight to BERLIN. So that's what Gaeby and I did last Thursday. The cab drivers in England have been jolly gentlemen so far (I believe this occupation is taken much more seriously here than in Canada). His parting words as he dropped us off at the Gatwick Airport were Take care of yourselves and Be safe. Such genuine concern!

Flying on EasyJet means no assigned seating, so as soon as they opened the doors in our gate everyone flew up to get out first. It was quite the rush, but Gaeby and I managed to grab seats together. We got to walk across the tarmac, which is always neat. About two hours later we landed in Berlin, and were surprisingly delighted to see thick flakes of snow falling about us.. (probably our Canadian blood finding joy in some final evidence of winter...it just doesn't feel the same without it).

Our first task was to figure out how to get To the Trains, which would carry us to our hostel. This is where the phrase 'Zu Den Zügen' became ingrained in our heads. Gaeby is amazing with directions. I think she has a sixth sense. Remember in my early post about finding our room in residence and how it was a confusing maze? She led the way down C2 and across B2 which was on the mainfloor and B1 was down a sketchy flight of stairs in the dark corner at the end of the hall...which I still find confusing...but the point is she knows how to get places, and I don't. (This is one of my goals for traveling in the future: Know Where You Are and How To Get To Other Places Good). So we (she) find the trains and figure out how to pay and which train to get on and where our transitions are and the stop we need to get off at to get to our hostel. Keep in mind this is all in German. Zu den Zügen!!

It's true what someone said in a comment on our hostel's website: Pfefferbet Hostel is not a hostel, IT'S A HOTEL. As it was my first hostel experience I didn't have much to compare it to, but I can recognize good service when I see it. Luckily most people in Berlin speak english and we didn't have too much trouble navigating around the city. We dropped off our stuff in our six person room and began our walk to the Jewish Museum. It was slightly alarming to see a woman posted outside the entrance, dressed in a uniform and carrying a machine gun. I suppose these precautions are very necessary.

The museum was incredibly interactive on many levels. It's shaped like a zig-zag that turns sharply at odd angles. This is meant to represent how history is not a logical straight progression, but one with meaningless shifts and gaps in time. When you first enter the exhibit you experience an immediate physical reaction. Gaeby had warned me that I might feel uncomfortable, but I didn't expect to feel dizzy and completely off balance. The walls, floor, and ceiling are all at different angles, which makes you feel like you're walking down a tunnel into Alice's Wonderland, except the walls are void of colour. Along the way we stopped at windows built into the wall that displayed various objects that once belonged to Jewish people who were sent to the concentration camps. One room we entered was full of 10,000 bronze faces. Our friend Christov who works at the museum (he actually stopped us on our way out to ask if we'd done this and then we talked to him and became friends) told us to go back and walk into the room and over the faces. This really put me outside my comfort level. Imagine doing this! The noise echoed through the chamber, like the clanking of a train.

On a happier note, Christov was hilarious. We told him we were from Canada and his reply was "Oh wait, no let me think, yes that's somewhere in Asia. It used to be in North Africa, but it felt uncomfortable, so it moved". Needless to say, he was crazy. Actually I think German humour is just really different from the rest of the world.

Next, we got in touch with my cousin John and met him at his place on Weiner Strasse (ha). Strasse means street. Weiner means Vienna. Listened to some good music, had some good chats, went to an authentic German restaurant for an authentic German meal (delicious pasta cooked in egg with cheese, etc) and then went out to some bars for authentic German beer and authentic German shenanigans. Gaeby met an unauthentic German (he was actually Polish). Berlin bars have no health and safety standards, which meant that someone could have a dalmation running freely around the crowded bar, barking at people, and generally being annoying. Eventually it was subdued by all the cigarette smoke in the room. We ended up sleeping over at John's since it was past the time to take the train back to our hostel. That night was worth every euro cent.

Gaeby and I left John's early (10) and made it back to our hostel minutes after the breakfast buffet ended. Shiza! We met two new girls who had moved into our hostel room the night before, Amy and Michelle. They're from North Dakota. They joined us on a free guided tour of the city. Matt, our tour guide, was British, and knew all kinds of interesting things about Germany, such as did you know that Häagen Daz ice cream isn't actually German? It's made up German! Gibberish German! ...so I guess that's not actually something about Germany. He told us that at the end of his life, Adolf Hitler only ate chocolate cake. He was a vegetarian for most of his life, then stopped liking vegetables, so he just ate chocolate cake. When we stopped at Checkpoint Charlie I bought a piece of chocolate cake for Gaeby and I to share.

A highlight of this tour was walking through the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe.

When you walk down into these towering concrete blocks, it feels like you leave the city behind. Calm and quiet, except for friends who got separated and call out for each other. For the most part you're absolutely alone, unless you happen to chance upon another wanderer. At one point I heard a little boy calling out for his mom. What had started out as a game of hide-and-seek became a little too real.

Our last stop was the hotel that looks out upon the Brandenburg Tor, as well as the gate itself. This is the most expensive hotel in Berlin, and is where Michael Jackson held out baby Blanket, to the shock of the world, and to the surprise of no one. Can't you just see him there? Go ahead, pick a window (near the top).

After the tour (we gave Matt five euros - you're expected to tip since it's free) we raced back to our hostel to change into our party things. We needed to be at John's (in Kreuzberg) for 6pm to make an authentic German dinner, and then return to our area (near Mitte) for a pub crawl. We made WeinerSchnitzel, which involved hammering three chunks of pork to make them tender (I got to do this). Then I dipped each piece in egg mixture, and then into bread crumbs. The result was deliciousness. Here is Gaeby demonstrating the process:

German food may be the best food. Their beer definitely is (the best).

Unfortunately our dinner was slightly rushed as Gaeby and I needed to train back to meet up with our pub crawl group. Also unfortunately every train we needed to get to the pub took eight minutes to arrive. We thought we'd miss the group fo sure, but lucky us they were still there. The thing about this pub crawl is that they took us to all the places you wouldn't normally find...like the underground pubs. First pub was called Yesterday, and was decorated with mushrooms and flowers. You can guess what kind of a bar it was. We met up with our hostel galpals, and met the rest of the group. So many Australians! About half the group I'd say. The second bar (I forget the name) was owned by one of the members from Rammstein..(you know the song Du Hast? Yeah!) Of course this place was in some underground dungeon with skulls on the doors and punks sitting at the tables. There I met Mark of Aus, who told me about going to Architecture school and how Aussies love Canadians, which is cool because (in my experience...ha) Canadians love Aussies too.

The next bar was called King Kong Klub (risky name there...). By now it was around midnight and places were filling up. Hung out with the Aussies - mostly Will, Chris, Will, Mark, and Tom. Good group of guys and really fun. I got my Aussie accent approved (mostly I can just say 'water' 'yeah' and 'no'..but it's a start). There was also a guy from New Zealand!! His name was Christian and he was hilarious and crazy. En route to one bar he picked up a Christmas tree and carried it part of the way.

The guy beside him is Greg from NYC. He had white hair in the middle of his mustache. We went to two more bars before the final one, Cassiopeia, which was located in an old bombed out bus station (I Love Berlin). We were promised 90's music and lots of dancing, both of which were fulfilled. Got home sometime after 3 for my first sleep in a hostel. Some guy was snoring like a fog horn. Still, it was a fantastic night of many firsts.

The next day we went for another free walking tour, this time of street art around the city. Berlin is one of the leading cities in street art. This particular piece stretched far across the back of a building. Below it was free legal graffiti space, meaning anyone can come paint and not be prosecuted.

The idea behind this piece is that it reveals a series of televisions, which implies that we are part of a culture that grew up watching images on a screen. It ends hopefully with an image to the right of this one displaying a brain as the balloon to a hot air balloon, suggesting that the power of thought will continue to rise above such mundane things. Our guide, Ben (he was a Kiwi from Auckland), also showed us the 50 faces surrounding an apartment building that used to be inhabited by criminals. After the space was filled with brightly painted faces the area transformed into a safer community. There was barely any graffiti covering these faces, which is impressive for a city so valued in street art. It proves to be an example of how art can give a community pride in where they live, and a reason to respect the space.

The following photos were taken during the rest of the street art tour. We went to this one building that was covered inside and out in graffiti. I think Ben said it was a squater house and is at risk of being teared down. He said that if any of us have friends who are millionaires that we should tell them to buy this place...(no such luck). I think it's a bit of an icon in the area.

 Kiwi Ben - our tour guide!

This was outside the bar we ended up at the night before on the pub crawl. The woman featured is from many many layers of stenciling.
I M P R E S S I V E .

We ended the day with beers with my cousins John and Will, pizza at an Italian/German restaurant (the best pizza I've ever had), and a brief hangout with the Aussie boys. Tom told me that all Australians know how to line dance and I believed him until a couple days ago when Gaeby told me he was joking. I thought it was like how in the States kids learn how to square dance. That does happen...right?

Gaeby and I were exhausted from barely sleeping all weekend, so we had to cut the visit short and grab some sleep before our wake up at 6:30am to catch a plane back to England.

I will try not to make my posts this long in the future..it's actually taken me about three days to put together....but I didn't want to leave anything out! Although I inevitably did...heh.

P.S. Zu den Zügen = To the Trains. (very key)

A Journey Through Doors with Gaeby and Kelsey....or As One Door Closes, Another Door Opens.

Here is a picture of each door within the Castle that I pass on a regular basis, whether it's walking to the Castle from res (6 minutes away by foot), going to class, or listening to people play the piano.

First, the door we use to enter the Castle. We use the side door because the front door (at the end of the bridge) is only open when the Pub is open.

Next, the second door, which is immediately inside the first. It is this door that requires a secret code that we punch into that white box. I can't even tell you how many numbers it is, it's that secret. Note Gaeby and Kelsey in the windows. 

Straight ahead is the door that leads to what I call the Quad of the Castle (to all King's students, think 'Quad'). This little outside hallway takes us towards our classrooms.

Next we see the door at the end of the tunnel. This is a heavy door and requires a slight inclination of the body (think pushing yourself against the door) in order to open.

After entering through this door, you meet three doors. One is directly in front, and there is one on either side. You take the door on your right (this is becoming like a choose your own adventure, but with doors...and I'm choosing). 

You pass through a hallway decorated with portraits of previous Castle classes from every semester and from decades past. The doors that you pass as you walk down this hallway are of no use to you and only prolong your journey. Honestly, if it wasn't for all these doors I'd arrive on time every time.

After walking through the door above, you come to this door. Congratulations! You made it to the Dacre Room (aka Seminar 3). This is where I am taught British Autobiography with Christian Lloyd (who is a fantastic prof and totally in with all cool things British...like Peep Show). 

Unfortunately it's not a Wednesday and we must carry on. Next door!

At this point you can see there is less sunlight. We are entering deep into the heart of the Castle. Look right to check out this decorated door. I think it leads outside into the Castle Quad, but I can't be certain as it is always locked...so maybe that's just what they want us to think. Perhaps we should be suspicious.

Hurray! You've reached Seminar 4, where I have Children's Literature (aka Harry Potter class) and Jacobean Shakespeare.

But our journey doesn't stop here! Let's see what else we can find. Oooooooooo! An old black and white map of the Castle in relation to other places in Hastings (which is the name of the larger area).

Another curiously bolted up door on your right...

Then we come to this grand room with a grand fireplace surrounded by grand tapestries...a welcome change to all those dark dank claustrophobic hallways, right? So full of sunlight and happiness!

Here is the view from the other side. See where we came in? Also, you could definitely roast a couple pigs in that fireplace.

How about a little piano music? Kelsey is on it! Playing favourites of David Bowie and the Titanic theme song. The sound fills the entire room and filters out into the hallways. Don't forget to look up and admire the stunning ceiling, or the lions on the railings (they each carry a shield).

Moving on, we pass through the doorway that I have my back to in the above photo. Here is what it looks like from the other side. Note how short people used to be.

We have now made almost a complete circle around the Castle Quad. This next glass door reveals a tree lined stone path that cuts across the middle of the Quad to enable students access to other parts of the Castle without stepping on the grass. Grass stepping is strictly prohibited for obvious reasons.....

And finally we come to our greatest discovery yet. A tiny door within the larger door that is at the end of the bridge! We don't think we're actually suppose to know about this small door since the main door part is usually locked...so this was a very exciting find indeed. Just look how small it is!

Thanks to some editing skills, this next picture shows us the full scale of the giant door and the dwarf door in comparison. And there I am basking in the (rare) sunshine upon the bridge.

We locked up that door once more and continued on our journey of doors. To make a complete circle around the Quad we'd have to enter the Pub, but it was locked (understandable for 2pm on a Thursday) so we entered the Quad instead. Here is the door that leads up a flight of oh-so-steep steps and into the classroom where I learn Art History.

Turning around 180˚, we follow the stone path and directly in front of us is the grand entrance to the Castle library. To enter the library one must share the knowledge of yet a second code, but as you already know I simply cannot tell. You might recognize this stone walkway from our earlier journey towards the classrooms. We have cut across the Quad.

And now we depart the way we've come. Looking back as we leave the Castle behind, you notice a small door on the other side of the moat. It is impossible to reach without breaking some kind of rule. Where does it lead? To the dungeons? You wonder how you can get down there without getting caught...

Now we've reached the end of our door tour. Below is a photo of the moat curving around the Castle. I guess moats act as another kind of door since they are meant to make it more difficult for you to get from one point to another...

OK LAST ONE I PROMISE. This is the view from my window in res. Best view in Bader Hall? I think so.