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 I've
created the following photo journal on my Web site for any of my
friends or family interested in reading about my two-week trip this
summer to England and France. Read on for details of my experiences
and reflections on life in Europe. Or, if you're in a hurry,
just click on the pictures to see some of the beautiful sights.
Photo Journal: Manchester, England
My time in England was spent mostly on my own, since my Mom was
busy working on her doctorate and I didn't know the language well
enough to make any new friends. Okay, well, that's not entirely
true. There were a number of very nice Englishmen and women that
I met, though a typical conversation on a double-decker bus would
go something like:
Them: "I say there, it'd be keen of you to budge
up a bit."
Me: "What?" [I move over as they motion for some
space.]
Them: "Cheers! Have you tried those brilliant pasties
for nosh [points at a storefront]?"
Me: "Sorry, I don't..."
Them: "Well, I've got to crack on. Cheers mate!"
 Besides
the decided language barrier between our two cultures, one of the
first things you notice when you go to the UK is the high cost of
living. For those of you struggling to pay for gas in the U.S.,
you should see what it costs in Britain: $1.50 per LITRE! That's
nearly $6 a gallon, or about $100 to fill the tank on my little
Honda Accord. As a result, the average car in Britain is much more
fuel efficient than cars in America, and (therefore) much smaller
as well. In fact, I could probably fit one of their cars in my car's
trunk. The small size makes for easy parallel parking (a plus in
any city), but creates horrible cramping in the legs. I think it
is also the reason for why the English have such bad teeth, though
I can't back that up.
Nevertheless, I had a great time exploring the UK, and made use
of their extensive public transportation systems to go where I wanted.
I used the bus almost daily to explore a different part of Manchester,
or get to the train station to travel around the country.
 Another
curiosity about the British is their desire to measure everything
precisely, especially time. In America, a plane scheduled to leave
at, say, 6:25 p.m. (like my flight to England) will typically depart
the gate fifteen minutes late, taxi aimlessly around the tarmac,
and finally be airborne at 7:40 pm (also true of my flight). Not
so in England. In fact, their trains are on time so regularly that
they actually do away with route numbers altogether. You simply
know the train by the time it is supposed to depart, such as the
"oh-seven-hundred train to Middlesbrook." As long as you
are on that train by 07:00, you're good to go. And so I went by
train to a number of places, including Edale, Wales, and Chester.
Lots of stories from all of these, but since no one has the time
to read all of that, I'll cut to my favorite: Wales. But first,
a few more photos:
Crack
on to the Welsh North Coast!
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