This is England three
Day 12
Paradise Re-gained.
Coming to Newquay was all about seeing the Eden Project. A environmental project created by someone with an excessive amount of money and tree-hugging love.
It costs a staggering 17 pounds, including the bus pass (that’s about 42 Aussie dollars) to get in. In there you get to see plants, lots and lots of plants. In fact you could call it a zoo for plants. It’s been created to conserve, preserve and educate and in there you see these biomes.
What’s a biome? Well it looks like half a golf ball, stuck to the ground, it’s very sci-fi, Doctor whoish. There was also the outside biome, basically a euphemism for a garden in the great outdoors.
The day I was there, the sun was shining and the blooms were – well – blooming (sorry). Around the place was dotted cool sculptures (PJ you would have loved it). There was some plants native to cornwall. Also a good section on plants that have folklore about them.
After walking around for ages, I went into the tropical biome, which was plants from the tropical regions of Asia, Africa and South America. It was about 28 degrees in the biome and probably about 80% humidity. Coming in from the outside, sunny but cool, it was a bit much, I doubt the English would have coped well anyway.
As plants go, they were pretty nice and interesting. They had created a water fall and river that ran through the middle of the biome. There’s also information about destruction of the forests, cocoa and coffee bean production. It’s not bad, although my interest in that sort of thing is really limited to sort of caring in a very distracted sort of way.
Then you go into the Temperate Biome – plants from the Mediterrean, South Africa, California ie Melbourne. In this biome you get to see olive trees, gernamiums and plants that I can walk out of my front door and see for free. Okay there were some cool sculptures but I was a bit disappointed. Especially on the hard sell on the tulips at the beginning of the biome.
You left that biome and returned to the outside biome, got to see a lot more really pretty flowers, sculptures etc. Lots and lots of daffodils, which every time I saw, I couldn’t help but saying to myself “don’t pick the jonquils” (okay I know only 5 other people are going to get that one. I’ll explain about the jonquils when I’m back – something to look forward to I’m sure). I’m reasonably sure that I’d have a got a worse response from the boffins at the Eden project if I had of tucked an armful under my jumper than Mr Farley. All the flowers were so nice, really lovely. You could have just spent hours there looking at them. In fact I did spend hours there looking at them. I definitely lucked out on the day I went. But… Although I had enjoyed my day, I still felt vaguely unfulfilled. I wanted more, I wanted to be blown away, instead I felt like I’d paid €17 for a day in a garden, where I was constantly reminded on how my presence had this major impact on the world. I’d expected to see a desert biome but of course they still need the money to build this. Donation anyone?
Scientifically I wondered what the point was as well. These are not controlled environments. There’s no spraying, covering or leaving bags outside. You can eat in there if you wanted. Birds and Insects can get in from the outside and presumably get back out. So it’s not a natural environment.
Although it’s sort of a noble gesture, it could very well have environmental impact in a bad way. Insects could take out seeds or pollen to the outside world and there you go, false birds of paradise growing in some farmers field in Cornwall becoming a weed that they can’t get rid of. I really just think that if they want to do what they say they’re trying to achieve, they’d exercise more control over the whole thing.
I returned to Newquay, where I managed to sneak take away (fish and chips) in past the rather Nazi-esque staff at my hostel. Seriously I’ve never been to a place with that many rules and reasons for them to take away your €30 deposit. Some of these rules were too much noise, too much alcohol, food in your dorms and a whole lot of other reasons probably made up depending on whether the staff were feeling happy today or not.
The fish and chip shop I went to was in the top 10% of the fish and chip shops in Cornwall. But here’s the thing. In getting them ready of you to take away, they use these foam containers that aren’t big enough to fit the fish in them, so they have to hold onto them. That’s right, they place their presumably scrubbed hands that they hopefully haven’t put through their hair, up their nose, or any other unmentionable places on top of your fish to keep it on the tray before they wrap it in paper! Why is this so? Why not use tongs and put the fish directly onto the paper? Why not wear gloves? Why subject their customers to the sight of them with their dirty mits on your cod (actually it was haddock)? It’s truly one of the mysteries of life.
Day 13
A taste of Bristol.
When I was originally planning my trip, I was going to spend about 3 nights in Bristol. It was going be a bit of a base to see some of the country around. Also it sounded like it would be a pretty cool city to see. In the end I spent one afternoon and night there.
In one afternoon, it’s hard to know what to think of city. Although with the canal and the houseboats running through the middle it did remind me of Amsterdam, without the rampant red light district. I guess if I had of spent a bit more time there, I could of found heaps of things to do. In the end I only did one thing, which was go to a church called the St Mary Redcliffe.
Elizabeth the first said that the St Mary Redcliffe was the most famous parish church in all of England. I have no idea why, nothing I read actually explained that to me. As churches go, it was pretty nice. Lots of history and meaning.
There was one thing in there that had me going sometimes God and all that stuff is so cool. It was a cross, that had been built so a water tube ran up the back of it. There was a semi-circular metal drain running the length of the arms and a pendulum that swung back and forth emptying the water into the drain.
So what’s all that about? (I have pictures that will explain it better) and why is it cool???? Because no one knows which way the pendulum will swing. In a minute it may go one way and then the other. It’s a mystery unexplainable by science.
And of course, it’s all deep and meaningful. The sign explained it as St Mary Redcliffe’s movement into science but of course it’s more there movement into what science can’t explain and the mysteries of the universe. I thought it was such a simple thing and it said so much. I was very impressed.
Bristol was a pretty vibrant city and I thought it might have been okay to spend a bit longer there.
Day 14-15
Putting the Man and Chest into Manchester.
I didn’t know quite what to call this post. Several ideas came to mind – about peeking through the Manchester and other ideas that played on the name. In the end this title in summed up my experiences in this city.
I liked Manchester from the moment I arrived. It reminded me of Melbourne, as it seemed by far the most mulitcultural of all the cities in England I had visited so far. How I got here there was a bit of the luck of the draw. I literally got to Birmingham (where I had to change trains) and since I couldn’t decide between Manchester and a place called Ironbridge gorge. I went to whatever place I could get a bed.
There’s quite a lot to do in Manchester, there’s the Lowry – an art centre with theatres and a gallery. There’s the art gallery – with the largest collection of pre-raphaelites in the country. There’s the museum of Science and Industry which delves into the industrial history of Manchester (except for the cotton stuff not as interesting as it sounds).
Mostly though my Manchester experience can be summed up by the pub crawl I went on Thursday night with some people from my hostel. It’s been ages since I’d been on a pub crawl and since I’m really not able to go out that much at night, I mostly went to see what the night life was like.
There really wasn’t many of us on there and what a surprise most of us were Aussies. We started at this place where apparently all the footballers hang out. It can mostly be described as a bit of a sleazy man’s fantasy – sculptures and paintings of naked woman (not men), and lots of velvet and leather.
We introduced ourselves. One of the girls who worked at the hostel said that when she ran the pub crawl last week at the introduction bit, she made everyone tell their best poo story (yes you read that correctly). So there I am thinking you know I’m just not a poo story kind of person and in fact, thank goodness, I happen to be friends with the normal people in this world that don’t actually have conversations (other than the medical sort) about the contents of their bowels. Anyway it set the tone for the evening and things pretty much went on a downward trajectory (in terms of conversation) from there.
We moved on and I started to notice that because most of people on the pub crawl knew each other, there was a bit of a weird “I feel like the new girl on these mates night out” vibe. None of the pubs were of any note, until we went to the dry bar. Famous in the day for being a part of the Manchester scene. It was actually probably the nicest place we’d been too all night.
Cheap drinks were required and we went to this place call Baa Baa’s. It’s near Canal street, which is the centre of the (apparently) world famous Manchester gay scene. It actually not a bad place, the music was pretty good and there was heaps of people there.
There was this one guy, who was a bit funny. When I first noticed him, he was holding his crotch (never a good sign). He was really skinny and wearing dark sunglasses. On the dance floor, he spent an hour watching himself in the mirror (probably the best dance partner he ever had). It was hilarious.
We lost a member of the party at this point, an 18 year old called Anna, who I believe participating in horizontial tourism. And so we moved on. We moved in Canal St proper to a pub called New Union. One of the girls on the pub crawl worked there, which begs the question – would you really want to go to your work place on your night off? This girl was really strange anyway – in a your not someone I’d ever want to spend time in because your just odd way.
I had pretty much started to lose interest by now anyway but I had no idea how to get back to the hostel. Couples had started to form and I was left chatting to this very sweet 18 year old boy called Nathan who was totally in love but also really drunk. Honestly I just wanted to leave. After a while they all got bored and we went to another club called Cruz 101. So this is where the man and chest things comes into the title. It was a gay nightclub with great music, lots and lots of men and lots of them with no shirts on. Great for the perv factor and also good for being able to dance without men trying to ask me not my name but whether I have a boyfriend.
I was just trying to dance and have a good time, but the girl leading the pub crawl kept telling me that I should relax more and remember that no one here will ever see me again. I’m not exactly sure what she thought I should do to indicate that I was having a good time (perhaps she sensed my I really wish I was in my bed now vibe). Ripping my top off would probably have been a bit ott.
If I needed to relax, then this guy on the crawl needed to seriously take some medication. He wouldn’t go to the toilet at Cruz 101, presumably because he thought he’d be chatted up. He told me he felt uncomfortable but then he also made himself stand out because he wouldn’t do anything other than stand with his back to the wall. Boring. I told him that he should just forgot where he was a behave normally, although that might have been normal for him.
It’s like 3.00am and I had a serious case of the munchies. We’re back at the hostel where they provide free toast, 24 hours a day at this place. So it was toast and tea and a chat with this cool Danish guy and his English mate for a while. Talking to them was probably the highlight of the evening.
I had a good time of the pub crawl, until the bit where everyone started hooking up and I felt like the fifth wheel. But I also don’t know and don’t want to know people who talk about bodily functions as pretty much the be all and end all of their conversations. It’s just weird and kind of gross.
Oh and I drank more on that pub crawl than I have since I sort of gave up drinking in 2006. I didn’t have a hangover the next day – nice to know despite my semi-teetotalism I’ve still got it.
Day 16-17
E-stale
I was really looking forward to going to the peak district on this trip. I wanted to do the whole Elizabeth Bennet, Pemberley thing. I should have changed my mind though, when I couldn’t get a hostel bed in the place that I wanted and had to go for my third choice.
The hostel is 1.5 miles from the train station, there’s no shop there so you have to bring in all your supplies. The guy at the tourist office told me that I could follow this marked path up to the hostel but he failed to mention that this marked path, went through sheep paddocks, over fences and was in the mud. I was probably carrying about 14 kilos too. So not happy!!!!!
Eventually I got to the hostel though and having recovered I went for a bit of a walk in the afternoon, which was nice but the weather was pretty bad and it wasn’t really safe for me to be out to much on the peaks on my own.
I wanted to change hostels on Sunday and managed to get a bed in the hostel I wanted to be in but the snobs at Edale said that I couldn’t cancel without losing my money. They’re very busy and important you know. They could fill the hostel twice over every night. So I was stuck in Edale for another night.
On Sunday though, I went to this place called Castleton, which was famous for it’s caverns. I went down this one on boat, it was really narrow and you had to wear a hard hat. The tour told you stories about miners have to work down there in those conditions mining tin. It would have been really scary with no light and in that water.
The second cavern I went to was famous for being the largest cave opening in England. It wasn’t as good as the first one, mostly because they were still doing heaps of exploring in and around the tunnels. The woman doing the tour as well just seemed to talk really loudly. It was a bit bizarre. She also expected a tip and stood there watching as you left. I just walked through the gate and gave no tip. I’d paid an entrance fee and well bad luck really. The only tip I’d have given her was you need to stop shouting when you talk.
Oh and the hostel was empty on Sunday night. I had the whole room to myself. So much for filling it twice over. Prentious gits. I was very happy to get out of Edale on Monday. I’d only recommend it as a hostel if there was no where else in Derbyshire you could go. I’m sure if the weather was good it would be nice but when the weather was crappy it wasn’t very nice at all.
Tags: Travel
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