Sarah and the Chocolate Factory

This may come as a shock to some of you, but I discovered today that there really is such a thing as too much chocolate.

I know, this sounds scandalous, particularly coming from me.

Now, rest assured, I don't mean too much chocolate ever, just too much at one time. But anyway, allow me to start at the beginning of the day and explain the exciting, chocolatey end to my day.

The class made an excursion to Birmingham today, a focal point during the industrial revolution which led to the surrounding area being referred to as "black country", as the whole area was dirty from the dirty industry happening in Birmingham.

Birmingham is a delightful little town. We went to the art museum and looked primarily at the pre-Raphaelite painters, as our art history teacher had requested. Then we went outside to the courtyard, which has a pretty fountain, a tribute to gas and water (from the industrial era and Chamberlain era), and some nifty statues randomly placed on the steps. We sat outside on the steps and enjoyed our lunch until it was time to walk to the train station so we could go to the Cadbury chocolate factory.

The majority of our time in Birmingham was spent at Cadbury World. When we arrived at Cadbury World, we were instructed to go to Essence and the museum first. So we walked over to Essence, and everyone was absolutely ecstatic and bubbly. Everyone felt just like Charlie being allowed in to Willy Wonka's factory.

Essence is a silly attraction, but we had a ton of fun and were laughing throughout the whole thing. You get taken back in time to the early 20th century and watch the Cadbury brothers try to figure out the perfect recipe for their chocolate. Once they discover it (one and a half glasses of milk is the secret), magic chocolate bars start floating around them.

Once you've been thoroughly excited, you get taken in to a room where two people are at a chocolate bar with candy behind them. Everyone gets to create "the perfect chocolate". You choose a candy from the back wall, and that gets mixed with a cup of liquid chocolate. If you don't want the candy, you just get a cup full of chocolate. If you don't want the chocolate, you just get a cup full of candy. Everyone is happy.

This is the point where I discovered that there is such a thing as too much chocolate; the first couple bites were pure heaven, but then as the chocolate began cooling, it began to get thicker and thicker. It was sticking to my mouth like peanut butter; I was almost worried that I wouldn't be able to open my mouth again (not seriously)! Halfway through the cup I figured I had to throw away my cup or I might make myself sick. It was still amazing and delicious nonetheless.

After we finished up at Essence and the museum, we went back to the main part of Cadbury World. When you enter that part of the attraction, they give you two free candy bars! Then you go to the Aztec forests and watch as they first discover cocoa. Then you watch cocoa get taken to Europe, and watch as chocolate grows in popularity through Europe.

Eventually you find yourself on a replica of Bull Street, where John Cadbury owned a tea shop and sold chocolate products. Then Mr. Cadbury himself shows up, and you learn about how his sons built a factory in the country, and built a whole little model town for the factory workers, complete with playing fields, swimming pools, and other modes of recreation.

You get to see the chocolates getting packaged in the factory, and then you take a ride on Cadabra (but first, they give you another free chocolate bar. Oh, and I mean legitimate, full-size candy bar; none of that whimpy sample or "fun-sized" crap)! Cadabra is clearly a ride meant for little kids, but when you have a group of college students acting like they're at Disneyland for the first time, it's still exciting.

There's some more strange and trippy exhibits after the ride (you can turn yourself in to a chocolate sculpture, or watch a gorilla playing drums for no apparent reason), you eventually find yourself in the World's Largest Cadbury Shop. The prices in the shop were amazing, and I literally loaded up my arms with chocolates I've never seen before to ship home for my family. I spent less than 9 pounds on my armful of chocolates.

The cashier ringing me up asked me where in America I'm from. I answered Washington State, and then specific "Seattle area". The cashier said "oh, the birthplace of grunge! Nirvana and Sound Garden, right?" I assured her that she had correct, and was kind of amused that grunge was what came to her mind regarding Seattle. I certainly prefer it to what people usually say to me, which is "Oh, like Sleepless in Seattle!"

All in all, it was a very fun day exploring Cadbury...oh, and seeing Birmingham too.

A Touch of Tacoma Pride at the V&A

I found out a fascinating (and extremely exciting!) bit of information while in Edinburgh last week. I had visited the Victoria and Albert Museum two weeks prior with some girls in the program, and while there, Hannah (another Tacoma local) and I commented that the glass chandelier at the entrance to the V&A looked very much like a Chihuly piece. However, we dismissed the idea, thinking that Chihuly wasn't that well-known.

Turns out, Chihuly is considerably more famous than we thought, and the glass chandelier sure enough is a Chihuly piece! Although Londoners describe Dale Chihuly as a "Seattle artist", those of us from the Puget Sound know better...and we're pretty proud to claim him in Tacoma.

Here is a link to an article about how the V&A cleans Chihuly's glass chandelier.

And here are two interesting little facts about Chihuly:
Chihuly wears his eye patch because of an accident he had here in London.
Chihuly has permanent collections all over the States, Canada, The United Arab Emirates, and England, but the place with the MOST Chihuly permanent collections is none other than Washington State (which, of course, is absolutely fitting), including collections at UPS and PLU. Out of that, Tacoma has the greatest number of his collections, with a total of 6 to be found around the city. I assume that the glass bridge is being lumped in with the glass museum.

My senior portrait for high school was taken in front of Chihuly's Persian Glass in the Mary Baker Russel music building at PLU 3 years ago.

I like to go around bragging to people that "that chandelier is by Chihuly; he's from Tacoma; my dad used to deliver his mail." (Okay, so I don't really tell people that...much.)

Scottish Food

While in Scotland last week, I decided it was necessary to try at least a few new things. I didn't really intend to try haggis, as eating sheep's pluck (heart, liver, and intestines, that is) stuffed inside the sheep's stomach didn't sound particularly appealing to me, but I was informed by a few Scots that it was delicious, so I felt I had to try it.

I justified with myself that I enjoy pepperoni, and the main ingredient in that is pig heart. If I eat the pig's heart, why not the sheep's? That reasoning worked, and I was able to try haggis without gagging. It actually was pretty good; it tastes like a sausage (which it essentially is), but it was prepared more like ground beef, mixed up with oatmeal and various other herbs.

But the food that I discovered in Scotland and fell in love with was actually a home-baked good which I kept encountering in coffee shops and cafes throughout Scotland. I first discovered it on Wednesday, in the cafe at Edinburgh Castle. I went in for hot chocolate, and a bar with chocolate on top caught my eye. So I picked it up and bought it as well.

It was delicious. I was able to figure out that the bottom layer was a graham cracker-type layer, and the top was obviously chocolate, but I couldn't identify the middle layer. All I knew was that I loved it.

After encountering it twice more in Scotland, I finally decided to ask a lady in a coffee shop in Inverness what it was called. This lady was purchasing two of them, so I had a feeling she too was a fan of this amazing bar. She told me it was called Millionaire's Shortbread, and she commented on how delicious they are.

This also helped me to identify the middle layer of the treat as caramel.

And now here, for my viewers' pleasure, I provide you with a link to a recipe for Scotland's delicious home-baked good, the Millionaire's Shortbread at Joy of Baking.

Reasons Why I Hate The Tube

The Tube, I have decided, is the bane of my existence. London is heralded as having one of the greatest public transportation systems in the world...but I don't find it very great, unless you happen to be a fan of sardines...or rather, being a sardine yourself.

Sure, sure, The Tube is convenient when it's working. As it's underground, traffic isn't an issue. And you don't have to pay much attention, apart from what stop you're at. It's less stressful than driving and more direct than taking a bus. So basically, The Tube is a great way to get around when A) it's working, and B) it's not rush hour.

The problem is, however, many, many, many, many people take The Tube places, and this makes The Tube downright miserable at times.

Rush hour is bad enough; everybody is literally rushing. If you aren't moving fast enough, they give you a huffy "excuse me" while they push past you (and get a whopping one foot in front of you!). Sometimes, you don't even get the "excuse me", it's just an exasperated look. Nevermind the fact that you happen to be moving at the flow yourself and can't go any faster, given the sea of people in front of you. It's the same as road rage on a freeway, only instead of having cars, people are left to their own devices - which unfortunately, occasionally include pushing others off the subway platform (this happened last week when a woman told a man who was smoking that she didn't appreciate getting his cancer. He shoved her off the platform).

But worse even than rush hour are sporting events. Sporting events, particularly football, is a pain to deal with. Unfortunately, these happen to occur at the same time as rush hour. So suddenly, you find TWICE as many people down in the Underground trying to cram on to the same exact trains.

You can tell when a sporting event is happening not by the increased number of people, but rather by what people are wearing. Everyone shows up in the same colors. Many people have scarves. Some even have full-blown capes on. Apparently face-painting and bare chests is an American football thing, but people are still full of team pride when it comes to European football.

Oh, and the most obvious indicator that there's a football game? Anytime fans of one team see other fans of their team, there appears to be an unwritten code that everyone must start whooping and hollering and running through the extremely crowded Underground. This is met by a few smiles from fellow team supporters, but everyone else, who is a regular rush hour commuter and is therefore tired, cranky, and has the one and only goal of going home, glares at these people as they continue pushing their way towards the train platform.

This is bad enough, but as I discovered yesterday, Brazilians in London for football games are even worse. Somehow, they reach decibels that should not be physically possible, and chatter away a mile a minute in Spanish. And they run around chanting. In case the bright green and yellow attire they are covered in didn't make it obvious enough that they are here for the football game.

But here is why I really hate The Tube: because despite the fact that everyone is trying to get to the same place in a hurry, everyone moves RIDICULOUSLY SLOW. Everyone pushes and shoves to move through the crowd, and yet the crowd shuffles along at a glacial pace between platforms and trying to exit the station. I have yet to figure out why this is. The only thing I can think of is that maybe really old people somehow get in front of the crowd, and everyone else has to wait as they ascend and descend the stairs one foot at a time.

With everyone moving in one mass slug formation, that means many, many people are waiting at the platform when the train actually arrives. This creates even more pleasurable problems. For example, the train arrives and everyone flocks to the doors waiting for them to open. Once the doors open, the sea of people on the platform are met by a wall of people on the train itself. This creates a fascinating game, in which the objective is to let the people off the train (so there is room for you to in turn get ON), without letting any of the other people push in front of you and take your place on the train.

Sometimes, the best solution is to hang back and let that train go by. The next train comes a minute later, and sometimes it's emptier and easier to get on to. This solution usually works for me, but today, this was not the case.

Today, getting on the train was a major feat. At two different stations I wound up missing the first train, as the train literally COULD NOT fit another person in it. I had no option but to wait for the next train, and repeat the fight to get on. I eventually got sick and tired of The Tube, and so I switched to bus instead.

Turns out, barely anyone takes the bus. The bus is, I have decided, a beautiful thing. Buses don't have signal problems. Buses can take alternate routes if something goes wrong on the usual route. Buses don't get so full you are packed in like sardines and wondering who smells so bad, and hoping it won't rub off on you. Buses are beautiful.

In short, the conclusion I reached today, is that I miss driving. I never thought I would...but I do.

You Have Not Experienced Cold Until You Have Experienced Scotland

Hello dear followers! I apologize for the week without a word...but I was in Scotland for five days without Rufus, my darling laptop, and then I was a smidge busy on Monday with a play and a paper for class. But here I am, at 11:38 PM on Tuesday, come to update you on the highlights of last week galavanting off around Scotland.

Let's do this by day!

So first, Wednesday.
We left London bright and early at 7:50 AM, which meant waking up around 6:00 AM which is bloody early. The train ride was approximately 4 hours, and we arrived in Edinburgh just past noon. We walked a mile and a half (in reality, it was only 15 minutes, but when you're carrying bags and the weather is...well, the weather in Scotland in February, it feels like forever!) to our hostel, where we deposited our items and then we took off for the Edinburgh Castle.
Now, I would like you to know, that the entire time we were in Edinburgh (from Wednesday to Friday), it was either pouring rain, snowing, or doing a combination of both, and it was at all times very windy. So we explored the castle in these very conditions. Despite the horrid weather, we had fun wandering around the castle and looking at the Scottish war museum and learning about their rich history.
After the castle, we went to the Scottish National Portrait Gallery where we wandered around looking at paintings. It's a rather small art museum, so we managed to see everything in it within one hour before they kicked us out for closing time.
We returned to the hostel where we were given dinner and then everyone went to bed as we were utterly exhausted.

Thursday, the hostel fed us breakfast and provided us with sack lunches for our day. Then we headed out for a visit to St. Giles Cathedral. We split in to two groups and got tours around the cathedral. It was really cool, I even saw an angel playing bagpipes!
After the cathedral, we went to the Scottish History Museum (or whatever it happens to be called) where we had free reign to explore the museum. I played dress-up again (I love these Brits and their dress-up opportunities in the museums!), this time as a Viking. I didn't get far through the museum, but that's okay, because after the museum we had the option of going to Linlithgow Palace. I chose to go, and I'm ridiculously happy that I went; you get to wander around the palace at will, and it's just a ton of fun. We climbed up in every tower.
After the palace, several of us went to The Elephant, a coffee shop with a claim to fame: J.K. Rowling began the Harry Potter series in that very shop. We took pictures, we ordered hot chocolate, and a few people wrote (like Rowling). Then we briefly went shopping, which contained stops at an antiquarian book store and a yarn store.
After dinner at the hostel, I went to a pub Thursday night with Corrinne, to try some pear cider. Turns out, pear cider is delicious. After the cider, I had a Guinness. After two drinks, I was more than ready for bed, and so Corrinne and I walked back to the hostel and I promptly climbed in bed (but did not sleep very well).

Friday was the class's final day in Edinburgh. We took a walk to a hill that I can't recall the name of. On top of said hill is an unfinished monument in honor of all that the Scots have achieved. It was built in the 19th century and is meant to resemble the Parthenon in Greece. Although it's unfinished, it's still pretty impressive up about the city.
Then we went to Scottish Parliament, where we were given tours around the building. The Scottish Parliament, if you do not know, is barely ten years old. They have a pretty snazzy building, though.
Once the class finished up, Annie, Sasha and I took a train to Glasgow. In Glasgow, we checked in to our hostel and then wandered out for dinner. We found a pub in the town center where we chose to eat, and then we went back and read Shakespeare out loud in our room.

Saturday was the most interesting day in Scotland. Annie, Sasha and I had booked a tour to take us all over Scotland. We were worried the horrible weather would cause problems, but fortunately the weather cleared up by Saturday. As we drove north we saw lots of snow, but for once the sky was clear! The tour took us up north, stopping in places to let us take pictures. We saw the Three Sisters of Glencoe, we visited Urquhart Castle by Loch Ness, we took a cruise on Loch Ness, we got to explore the town of Inverness, and we stopped for dinner in Perthshire, where Annie and I were brave enough to try haggis. We returned to Glasgow by about 9:30, and Annie and I decided to go explore Glasgow for the evening. We're clearly such wild party animals, we chose to go to a pizzeria where we had coffee, tea, and dessert and we chatted. Sasha did not join us, she rather went to the hostel. When Annie and I returned to the hostel at 11:00, we came in giggling and being silly. Sasha thought we were drunk, which we were intentionally acting like.

Sunday morning was the only day we got to sleep in, and so we slept until 9:00! Annie went to get a shower, and when she returned I went for a shower. And, as luck should have it, right as I was preparing to rinse the shampoo out of my hair (and finish my shower), the power went out. First, the lights flickered out, and then the water (which was only just a trickle in the first place) ceased. So I wrapped up in a towel and returned to our room, where the power also was out. The sink was still running, so I rinsed my hair in the sink. Now, the thing with the sink is, it has two faucets: one for hot, one for cold. And you cannot find middle ground. The hot is HOT. So I rinsed my hair in the sink with freezing cold water. As soon as I was finished, the power returned. I went back to the bathroom and hopped in the shower again just to make sure my hair was properly rinsed. We spent the rest of Sunday traveling back to London...it was truly unexciting.
I am happy to say that my shower that morning was the only Trains, Planes and Automobiles moment which I experienced that day (although, Sasha and Annie had to inform two guys on the train that they were sitting in their reserved seats).

Yesterday (Monday), was class as usual. However, the theater class was going to see Dunsinane, a play about Scottish history that is the sequel to Macbeth. They had 10 extra tickets, and I was informed that this production is the world premiere of the show. I had a paper due the next morning for art history which I had yet to write, but I eventually decided that I couldn't resist going to the play. So I went, and I was glad that I did. The show was very well done, with good music accompanying the drama, and just enough jokes to keep you entertained amidst all the serious drama and death. My subject line, by the way, is a line from Dunsanine. I, personally, didn't find Scotland too terribly cold. Berlin in January last year was worse.

And finally, today, after class I came home and took a nap, and then went to see Waiting for Godot with Annie, Sasha, and Hannah, starring Sir Ian McKellan and Roger Rees, the actor who played the Sheriff of Rottingham in Robin Hood: Men in Tights. Our seats were amazing, and they only cost us 11 pounds each. We bought "day-of" tickets, which the theatre reserves and you cannot buy until the box office opens on the day of the show. The tickets are sold on a first-come, first-served basis, and we really lucked out! It was a great show, and a great day.

You can see my Scotland pictures all together in one photo album here.

Tapas, the Alhambra, Big Adventures, Flamenco, Spanish Catholic Mass...I Must Have Been in Spain!

Friday morning, I left Maggie's house around 8:30 AM to make my way to Spain for a weekend adventure in Granada, visiting with my friend Jen from PLU who is studying in Granada for the semester.

The weekend was full of excitement - both good and bad. However, as it is 11:30 PM right now, I will only touch on the highlights at this moment. I will try to provide a more detailed blog entry tomorrow; if it doesn't happen then, it never will, as I'm off to Scotland Wednesday morning!

I flew from London to Malaga, and had to take a bus from the airport to the bus station, and then a bus from Malaga to Granada. People kept speaking to me in Spanish; once I realized they were speaking to ME, I simply said "English?" and they translated. However, I quickly discovered that many people in Spain don't speak very much English. This was surprising to me, as my experience in other European countries is that most people speak English. Spain was like the opposite of America - if they're going to speak a second language, English is likely it. But many people only speak the one language.

I had no problem getting to Granada, but I did run in to a snag upon arrival: I tried to call Jen, but had no luck. She, too, was unable to call me. I blame the Spanish phone system (I say this only because a lady from England staying at my hostel blamed it, haha). I arrived at the bus station having no clue where Jen was, or where to meet. I was preparing to try to find my way to the hostel by myself when I saw her...thank goodness!

Jen walked me to my hostel, and we passed near it three or four times before we eventually found it. It was tucked away on a tiny little cobble-stone street. But we found it, got me checked in, and then we went out for tapas. Tapas are an appetizer that is traditionally served at bars in Spain. In Granada, all tapas are free as a requirement to keep people from getting drunk (or to at least slow the process). We each had one drink, enjoyed our tapas, and then called a night.

Saturday was our grand adventure day. Jen and her friend Ruth introduced me to as much Spanish culture as they could. They took me to the Alhambra, a famous castle in Granada. We went to a museum and walked through a romantic garden. We explored the area all around the Alhambra, and then went back down into the town where we had churritos and chocolate. That's basically deep-fried dough and hot chocolate dipping sauce. Horrible for you, but yummy and a necessary treat while in Spain.

Ruth had to part ways with us at this point, so Jen and I decided to inquire about seeing a flamenco show that evening. We went to the tourist information office, where we learned about a flamenco school that had a show that evening for 7 euros. So we purchased tickets, and then Jen dropped me off at my hostel for two hours while she returned home briefly for supper.

While in the hostel, I met a girl named Rosa who is from Calgary, Canada and is currently studying in Barcelona. She was looking for a flamenco show to go see; some other girls in the hostel were telling her about a show for 13 euros, and so I spoke up that I was going to a show that night for 7 euros. Rosa asked to join us, and I said of course. When Jen came to get me at 8:00 Rosa joined us and we traipsed off to the complete opposite end of the city to see the show.

The flamenco show was great; very dramatic, romantic, passionate, and sexual. I tried taking pictures, but flash was not allowed and so my pictures are all a bit blurry.

After the show, Rosa and I decided to go out for tapas. Jen decided it was best that she head home, so Rosa and I stopped for tapas at a bar near our hostel. We each had a glass of sangria and enjoyed our tapas, and then went back to the hostel where we had one more sangria each from the hostel bar. We sat in the lounge with some other people at the hostel until about 1:00 AM, and then we went to bed.

Sunday morning, Jen and I went to Catholic Mass at the cathedral. This was our sneaky scheme for seeing the cathedral without paying. The service was short (not even an hour long), there wasn't one ounce of music, and I couldn't understand a word that was said. The service was very somber, and I had the distinct feeling that this must be how people in the middle ages had felt at church, listening to services in Latin, which they could not understand. Despite my language barrier, I could easily make out specific parts of the service, such as the sharing of the peace (everyone started kissing each other), the apostle's creed, communion (which was given to us without wine...wafers only), the sermon, the offering (the poor man passing around the basket accidentally dropped it), and the moment for silent reflection (at this point, the pastor sat in his chair and it looked as if he had fallen asleep!).

After church, we went to McDonald's for ice cream, and then I caught the bus back to Malaga and eventually flew back to London.

That's all for tonight's update; you can view my pictures from Spain in album-form here!

What Better Way to Celebrate Shrove Tuesday Than With a 500-year-old Traditional Pancake Race?

Today is known by many names; Shrove Tuesday, Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, what have you. At any rate, many people are eating pancakes today.

It was brought to our attention yesterday that in London, Shrove Tuesday is celebrated with pancake races throughout the morning. Legend has it that 500 years ago, a woman was making pancakes when she heard the bells for her church ringing. The woman rushed off to church, still carrying her frying pan and flipping the pancake the whole way so as not to burn it. This has led to the tradition of holding pancake races now on Shrove Tuesday. One town here in England has even had a friendly competition for over 50 years now with the town of Liberal, Kansas to see who has the fastest runner (without dropping a pancake).

The first race was during my one and only class this morning, but two races were being held at noon and 12:30, so Sasha, Annie and I planned on heading out to witness the excitement that a pancake was bound to bring.

But first! We popped in to the local STA Travel Office to inquire about trips to Scotland and Ireland. After nearly an hour there, we left with a complete weekend in Ireland planned, for the weekend right before St. Patrick's Day. We're flying to Dublin at 6:00 AM on Friday, taking a guided tour to various famous sights on Saturday, and flying out in the evening on Sunday. Saturday and Sunday we'll be sure to join in with the various St. Patty's Day weekend festivities.

Once we got this sorted out, we ventured out to the opposite end of London in search of the Truman Brewary, in order to witness the pancake races. We were already running late; it was 12:40 when we left, and the races began at 12:30.

Then we got lost.

We walked the wrong way, away from Brick Lane, where the brewery is located. We found ourselves in what is clearly a Muslim part of London. Many of the signs were in Arabic (completely useless to lost English-speaking foreigners), and we even found ourselves walking past the London Mosque.

So I pulled out my handy dandy iPhone and got us back on the right path. Now, you have to understand, we weren't just lost, but it's still ridiculously cold, and today, it has started raining. So we were lost, cold, and soaking wet.

Well, eventually we found our way to the Truman Brewery, and quite a to-do was going on. Food vendors were set up, an art gallery benefiting Haiti was going on, street musicians were playing folk music and - of course - pancakes were being sold. And by pancakes, I really mean crepes, as the English don't appear to differentiate between the two.

We hadn't eaten lunch yet, so we happily lined up for some yummy crepe/pancakes (I had a ham and cheese one) and then went in to the art exhibit to eat our lunch out of the rain. It didn't take us long to figure out that we had, unfortunately, missed the races. But! One team was still there, and still quite energetic. They were hopping and dancing around in the street with their frying pan (the rules state that you must supply your own frying pan; they will supply the pancakes). We didn't get to witness the race itself, but we did get to watch this team pose and create "action shots", and simply participate in a fun, local tradition.

Heading back to the tube, we got lost once again, this time wandering past a vintage clothing store which caught our fancy. By the time we eventually made our way back to the tube stop (once again aided by my bff the iPhone), we were utterly exhausted. We were ready to go home for the day. All in all, it was a successful, fun day exploring new parts of the city. And now we have an exciting new tradition (which we did not witness!) to bring home with us. I think Trinity could certainly benefit from pancake races in addition to the pancake supper every year.