Happy Chinese New Year

Year of the Dragon, 2012! I'm so excited. I remember back when I was younger, having learned about the story of all the 12 zodiac animals, and wondering why I was only a stupid Rooster when there were cool mythical beings (well one mythical being out of the twelve).

I decided to cook for all of R's house mates (and a couple of other friends that were invited over as well), to celebrate CNY. I have never cooked so much in my life. I stood in the kitchen from 1PM, and didn't really get a chance to have lunch or sit down until the dinner began at around 7:45PM.
After this experience, I have profound respect for my mum. She's been doing the cooking (for CNY dinner) since 2001. Not to mention that it's proper, traditional CNY dinner as well, which involves overnight seasoning and slicing up of ingredients.

There were a few dishes I had to unfortunately leave out because there was simply not enough ingredients available in Newcastle China Town. Dishes like yee sang (raw fish salad) I couldn't make because they don't stock pomelo here. I could have substituted it for orange or lemon; but it would have tasted wrong in my opinion. My mum makes a truly authentic version of yee sang. Just imagine eating it from the picture I took of last year's celebration... :P

I made two different types of fried rice, fried wonton, Szechuan eggplant, a beef dish (seasoned with lots of ginger and green onion), and a Peking Pork dish. I can't believe there were no leftovers as well :D
I felt like a domestic success...until today. My feet are so sore, and I have spent the whole day in bed watching Cupcake Wars and feeling sorry for myself. My mum told me she has hidden several red packets for me in my room for when I'm back in NZ. =]

I hope you all had a lovely Chinese New Year celebration.

All my love always, and Gong Xi Fa Cai!

April

The Who Shop Adventure

I've been watching Doctor Who for over two years now, and as far as I'm concerned; there's never a person who watches the series that isn't a complete nutter for anything Doctor Who, and is a dedicated Whovian. I even impressed myself with my dedication to go to the Who Shop despite my shit sense of direction. I somehow managed to find my way to Upton Park station (which isn't conveniently located in Zones 1 or 2 of the Underground), and walk for a good 20 minutes or so, all the while feeling a bit lost, to the Who Shop. The Who Shop is located in a rather...dodgy part of town, to put it nicely. I was half contemplating not to go to the Who Shop and just order the merchandise online, but of course, online shopping can only get you so far. Nothing truly beats going to the store to see the merchandise in person, chatting to the sale assistants, and listening to the Doctor Who Proms 2010 soundtrack blast in the overhead speakers.

I'm so glad I stuck it out and went anyway, because the shop was bigger than I had expected. The owner of the shop too, admitted that she'd much rather relocate to Central London where it was more accessible, but the rent would apparently quadruple for a store merely a third of the current one she owned. The amount of tourists and customers that visit the Who Shop should not be compromised, she believes, for "Whovians all over the world will die for a Tardis mug, and will do anything to get one."

I was ridiculously tempted to buy this, wear it at the Law orientation and tell everyone that I'm going to exterminate them...

She's absolutely right, because I did in fact treat myself to a Tardis mug, and bought my brother a limited edition flying Tardis. It's beautiful beyond description. It makes all the sounds (taking off, landing, crashing...), and the doors can even fly open to reveal the "bigger inside". I was the only customer to the Who Shop that day, since Emma had already left for Denmark. She doesn't watch Doctor Who, so I think she was secretly relieved that she didn't have to watch me fangirl my way over Tennant posters and the like. 

I wish I could have bought the entire store, really. It took great self restraint on my part not to purchase a Doctor Who poster. Not because I couldn't afford it- I simply wouldn't be able to bring it back with me to NZ. Its more sensible to order things like posters online because they are guaranteed to be safely delivered. Whereas if I was to purchase a poster from the Who shop, take it back with me in the underground, on the train back up to Durham, pack it in my big black luggage, and then somehow get it to both Heathrow, Changi, and Auckland International airport...there might be a few unwanted creases here and there. Saying that though, I managed to buy a length wise poster for R (the crack in the wall poster). It was a challenge rolling it up, though considerably much eaiser than rolling up a proper A1 sized poster. 

Is the Who Shop worth a visit? Definitely. I can't stress this enough. Ignore the dodgy neighborhood, and the odd random person that literally sniffs at you while you walk past. Ignore the filthy takeaway shops, the threatening looks from drivers, and crazy kids on skateboards. Just get to the Who Shop, and you'll feel much more at home. I can't believe the new series only begins in late fall of 2012. Watching reruns aren't a terrible idea- in fact, it's good fun since you are reminded of how different the ninth, tenth, and eleven are from each other. Still wish it came out in the Spring of 2012 though. That'd be nice, since it'll slowly start getting cold back in New Zealand, and I'll have the Doctor to keep me warm.

All my love always,

April 

Platform 9¾

FINALLY!

I think I've waited long enough to see platform 9¾, and although I am quite disappointed that it's moved location to a less disruptive spot, I was still thrilled that I could have my photo taken with it. It has now been relocated to a very discreet alleyway of Kings Cross, randomly placed right in front of a security guard's office. Some tourists that were lining up to take their photo with the platform 9¾ sign looked a bit offended- and I can't blame them really. Especially since I literally flew 30 hours to get here; I did expect more. But petty  issues aside, I'm glad it's still there.

Although the initial shooting of Harry Potter took place between platforms 4 and 5 of Kings Cross, Rowling had intended for it to be between platforms 9 and 10; hence, platform 9¾. I'm not sure how Rowling herself feels about this relocation of the platform either...

The other shots of the film are mostly shot at St Pancras International, which is undoubtedly the grander building when compared to Kings Cross. The station in itself has always been beautifully furnished, and the Renaissance hotel that sits just a minute walk away from the hostel I was staying at was in my opinion, solely responsible for the aesthetics of the whole of Euston Road itself. This hotel is truly a work of art. I think it costs around 150 pounds just to stay there for one night (cheapest hotel room available apparently)

St Pancras International also feature many gourmet restaurants, cafes, and shops for passengers that travel on the Eurostar. I had the privilege of having waffles with a friend just before my train ride back up to Durham the next day on the 17th.
Mmmm, Belgium waffles. I can't really complain about any weight gain in the UK when desserts like this only cost me less than $15NZD!! The gelato was heavenly.

Emma and I had various cakes and sweets during our trip in London. The pictures that are featured in this blog only showcase a very, very small percentage of what was consumed on a daily basis.
Reflecting back now, I'm quite disgusted at the sheer amount that we had indulged in. If I had used perhaps, half of my expenses on clothes or books instead, I'd be much better off.

However, I have been splurging on books here at Waterstones (the more successful version of Borders). The books here are surprisingly cheap, and although the only issue with purchasing books from overseas is the means in which you can ship them back home, I'm glad I bought them. I'm thinking of writing small, mini blog reviews on all the books I have bought so far, and kindly received from R as well. Can't begin to describe how grateful I am for the free time I have in the UK, completely  ideal for reading bible sized novels in two days.

Emma had to leave on the morning of the 17th (and by morning, I mean crazy early morning, like 6AM, really dark outside kind of morning), to catch her flight back to Denmark. My train ride back up to Durham was booked for the evening, and to celebrate our last day in London together, we had a beautiful Italian meal close by our hostel. Considering that her flight was so early in the morning, we compromised on having a huge dinner the night before.

We had two pizzas to share, and a starter for dessert. It's a bit confusing as to why we decided to have starters for dessert, but by the end of our London trip, the craving for anything savoury definitely overpowered our craving for sweets. Our endless afternoon teas and hot chocolate breaks between shopping and sightseeing eventually took its toll. The starter was extremely satisfying. I've never had mozzarella cheese on its own before, and never noticed that it was infused with olive oil as well. Perhaps it's different to how other restaurants prepare and serve their baby mozzarella cheese(s), but definitely the best 10 pounds each of us has ever spent on a starter dish in a London restaurant.

I'm not sure when I'll see Emma again- and we both felt overwhelmed at the thought of the future. Will we see each other again? Am I going to go to Europe in the next year or so? Will we both decide to study abroad in Japan again? Although these questions remain unanswered, I'm glad that I still had the opportunity to meet up with her after all these years. It's literally been a year and a half since I've seen Emma, and I definitely missed her more than I realise. If you are reading this Emma, thanks so much for a wonderful trip in London. I can't wait till our next big adventure!

All my love always,

April

a little bit of Shakespeare

After fan-girling my way through the Sherlock Holmes Museum, Emma and I decided to immerse ourselves in a bit of Shakespeare. It's unfortunate that I did not have the opportunity to go to Stratford upon Avon (Shakespeare's birthplace, along with Anne Hathaway's cottage), but I must say that this experience was in itself a learning stretch for me. It made me realise how much I had missed studying Shakespeare for English at school.

Just thinking of the theatre itself, and how much its architecture had contributed to the plays' atmosphere does indeed humble you greatly. Though we have IMAX theatres and booming sound systems now in the age of technology; there is something quite personal and intimate about an outdoors theatre, specifically, the Globe Theatre, that I find missing in our day to day advancements.

Located directly by the Thames River, the Globe was indeed a landmark in itself. Though the reconstruction of the building itself was not where the original theatre was, the original site is not far behind. Initially, much to my surprise, the Globe had a rather quiet presence about it. It was not as big as I had envisioned it to be, nor was it as...powerful, I guess you could say. It goes to show that my constant exposure to big skyscrapers have almost ruined my ability to appreciate a building with such a lively and exciting history behind it.

This impression of the theatre soon changed once the tour began. Tourguides too often get unnecessarily enthusiastic about the wrong things, but fortunately enough our tourguide for the Globe was brilliant. She was knowledgeable about a wide range of interesting topics, and engaged all of us particularly in the way she addressed the tour group.

She focused mainly on the architecture of the theatre, and the people that would visit the theatre, all the while comparing it to our modern day version of a theatre. I find that most "history" lessons tend to skip this part entirely. Guaranteed, comparing the past (especially if it was a good century or two ago) to the present can be unfair due to societal changes, but I find that to be a rather negative and all too realistic approach to history. History is about the study of us, really, and what better way than to see how far we've come? There's no such thing as better, or worse, or right, or wrong. Merely that history is happening, and even as I am typing this blog, history is taking place. Though I am not too certain if this entry will go down in history textbooks for the future; there's no harm in hoping right? :P

The tour guide explained that the rich simply went to the theatre to show off. Of course, it was to enjoy the play as well, but their choice of seat was often to the far left or right of the theatre, which obviously would not give as direct an impression as where the middle class would often sit (middle rows, second and third floor). The lower working class would have to stand in front of the stage, and had to stand the entire length of the play. The estimated number of people that would fit in the theatre today is around 1500. Back then, they could squash 3000 people into the theatre. Taking into account the poor hygiene they had as well, the horrible smell would apparently reeked for miles on end.

The actors were also known to engage with the audience much more, and in fact spur responses from the crowd from time to time. I can't imagine audience participation in a play in our time today, let alone someone from the audience answering an actor in his or her soliloquy. As I mentioned earlier- it's simply amazing how intimate Shakespeare's plays were at the time. It's no wonder that people would spend 1/12 of their wages just on the admission fee.

I thoroughly enjoyed visiting Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, and the atmosphere around it as well. The view from the Thames was simply breathtaking, especially with St Paul's cathedral peeking out from the landscape. The Tower Bridge can be spotted somewhere down the line as well; though I could not find the time to visit.

On that note; all the world's a stage, and the men and women merely players.

All my love always,

April

Finding 221b Baker Street

a full, typical English breakfast

On our second day in London, we head out of the hostel at around 9AM and go straight to Camden Town. There's a little cafe that does "gourmet English breakfast", because apparently there is a lot of culinary skill involved in cooking baked beans and frying bacon.

this was a huge lie. It took us a good half hour!

map of Regent's Park

After paying a horrific amount of money for my breakfast, Emma and I decide to try and walk to Regent's Park. Our plans for the day include the Globe Theatre, and finding 221b Baker Street. I've recently been introduced to the literary works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and have been attempting to get through the stories. I've been watching the BBC series of Sherlock since it came out last year (of course I would; since it's co-written by Moffat), and have enjoyed it just as much as I do watching Doctor Who.

I think part of being a tourist is making huge colossal mistakes throughout the day; and repeating them. Even though there was a mutual agreement on the first night we were in London to never underestimate the distance of places solely by looking at the map itself, Emma and I still managed to repeat the same mistake by attempting to walk from Camden Town to Regent's Park, and go round the whole of the park in order to get to Baker Street.

In hindsight it wasn't that long of a walk; 45 minutes to an hour tops, but considering that we walk really slow, and that we were quite full from our English breakfast, the walk felt uncomfortable and unnecessary.

apparently these guys are a nuisance? HOW?

crazy mutant sized ducks...

However, the weather was beautiful that day- perfect for taking photos of all the ducks, cranes, and squirrels. I can't actually begin to describe how lovely Mother Nature has been to us tourists over the weekend. It's been cloudless blue sky, and the sun would set later than normal (around 6pm) so that we could use as much of the day as possible.

We finally head out of Regent's Park and who knew? Baker Street was conveniently located opposite the park. Luckily enough for the two of us, 221b Baker Street was also at the very start of the road itself, meaning that A) we didn't have to go looking for it like maniacs, and B) less walking involved.

The minute I saw the musuem, I squealed so loud, and proceeded to freaking jump up and down on the spot. I swear the locals were convinced it was my first time at Disneyland or something. Poor Emma had to calm me down and coax me into actually lining up for the musuem, instead of pacing the entrance like a lunatic. But in the end I was somehow lucid enough to take a photo with the man standing outside the door, dressed in appropriate gear and everything. There were about a dozen women dressed in attire appropriate to Mrs Hudson. Not entirely certain it would have been bright lime green, but what can I say? The illustrations in the novels are black and white, and the modern adaptation on BBC One would not be of much help considering that it's a modern adaptation.

Within the musuem itself was a replica of what the house would have been like- including where Mrs Hudson and John Watson would have slept, and Sherlock's study. Emma and I had the privilege of sitting in the front room (along with every single visitor to the musuem), and we posed accordingly. I'm extremely pleased I could actually visit the musuem this second time around to London. The first trip to London was spent doing some generic sightseeing, and I finally had a clear list in my head of the things I wanted to see and do whilst touring around with Emma.

The wax figures on the top floor of the museum was a bit scary at first (a bit relieved that I didn't visit Madame Tussauds Wax Museum now that I've had a good look at the ones here...), but I stopped being a wuss and took photos anyway. Moriarty looked extremely frightening. My favourite display was by far the Scandal in Bohemia one. John and Sherlock had a display too- but I was unfamiliar as to what story it was based on, and couldn't appreciate it as such. (look below)

I bought the Baker Street sign at the gift shop for my brother (and if he doesn't like it, I'll keep it), and a postcard to send back to a certain friend of mine who loves Sherlock and everything Moffat related.

I'm extremely fortunate that R got me the complete works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in mutant bible form, because buying it from London would have cost me a small fortune, and not to mention that it would break my arm in the process of bringing it back on the train up to Durham.

I definitely recommend visiting the Sherlock Holmes Museum if you are ever in London. There is also a Beatles shop to the left of the museum- but I wouldn't recommend it. Overpriced and cheesy, it was a huge letdown after the visit to 221b Baker Street.

All my love always,

April

London China Town

I spent the last few days in London with Emma, who came from Denmark to visit me. She's a really good friend of mine from Japan as we both were past exchange students in Tokyo. It didn't really hit me that I haven't seen her in a year and a half. It was as if no time has passed at all, and we had just randomly bumped into each other in London.

The past few days in London have been absolutely fantastic, and the more time I spent with Emma, the more I realised how much I truly miss all the exchange students in Japan. Although I initially disliked the idea of being in a girls high school, I'm grateful for the sense of community it brought out in all of us, regardless of nationality, age, or cultural differences.

I arrived at Kings Cross around 5:30pm on Saturday, and by the time we checked into our hostel near St Pancras International, it was close to dinner time. Reminiscing about the good old days in Japan, Emma and I began to crave for some authentic Japanese food. R had taken me to a Japanese restaurant when I was here in London last year, so after several Google Map consultations and crappy mental mapping attempts, we headed out for China Town.

Google Maps offers you directions either by foot, bus, or tube. We decided to try and walk there because China Town did not look particularly far from Kings Cross on the map itself.
We did not consider the fact that maybe, just maybe, a 5cm line on a map would represent a kilometer, thus making actually quite far by foot.
As expected, we gave up after step two and hopped into the nearest tube station towards China Town.

The restaurant was packed as expected, and we had to wait for our turn to be seated. We had a reasonably authentic obento, and although I secretly thought that my host dad could have conjured up a tastier and more affordable meal, I enjoyed it nonetheless. I'd also forgotten the polar opposite speeds in which Emma and I consume food. By the time I was done with my obento, Emma was hardly a quarter through. I slowly worked my eating pace back down to Emma-Eating- Speed eventually, and we could both enjoy each other's company without feeling pressured to eat faster/slower.

After dinner, we decided to walk back to the hostel to work off some of the obento. Going through Piccadilly Circus, Oxford St, Regent St, and Tottenham Court Road was a physical challenge in itself. The shops were starting to close, and walking in central London on a Saturday night will result in bumping into randoms like this:

.....

After consulting various maps along the way, we arrived at the hostel an hour and a half later.
It's probably best if one takes the tube in London if they can. The walking does take it out of you, and sore leg muscles the next day is not a good way to start a morning.

The next night for dinner, we returned to China Town for some proper Chinese food. Ordering some special set menu which cost us nearly 20 pounds per person each, it took us almost 2 and a half hours to get through the course. Altogether there was about six dishes to share between two people.
Despite the sore leg muscles, we walked back to the hostel again due to guilt of having being such gluttons. We were one of the last customers to leave the restaurant. Many people came in to have their dinner later than we had arrived, but left earlier than the two of us.

The dinner itself was extremely satisfying. I really missed Peking Duck, and I'm glad we got to have some for the new year. I'm missing Chinese New Year because I'm spending most of February in the UK, so my cravings for Asian food in London have been fulfilled accordingly. Emma had not tried much authentic Chinese food until this trip down to London, and throughout our dinner I was an annoying and anxious friend who persistently asked if the food was edible, as if I was somehow responsible for the opinion she formed in her mind about Chinese food. I was relieved to know that she did in fact, found the food edible; if not actually enjoyable as well. She ate just as much as I did, so unless she's very good at lying, I'm going to assume she enjoyed it.

Many Asian bakeries tend to have elaborate and tempting cakes in the window, and though we were both quite full from all the food on both days of having splurged on Japanese and Chinese dinner, much self restraint was exercised in not purchasing one of these beautiful cakes.

Just looking at a picture of it now is making me realise that my new years resolution to decrease the consumption of much dairy products will not be feasible quite yet...

That pretty much sums up our oriental experience in London for the new year. If you are ever in London, you should definitely visit China Town. Not just for the food, but for the atmosphere, and the buzz of all the different tourists that are around. It's also a comforting place to be. I've noticed that wherever you travel to, chances are there will be a China Town somewhere conveniently located in the heart of the city.

All my love always,

April