Planes, Trains, and Automobiles…and buses, tubes, and taxis

This week finds me in Ed, Sweden….pronounced iiiid (pronounce this 3 octaves lower than Barry White). As I said before, Milan is the Detroit of Italy….well, I have found the West Virginia of Sweden.

My first thought was…..hmmmm….is that banjo music I ear? Do these hills, in fact, have eyes?

But maybe we should start a bit earlier than getting into Ed….since, like they say, the journey is half the fun…

Ed, for those of you not familiar with it…which would logically be everyone in the world that doesn't live there….is about 170 km from Gothenburg….which is also not that big, but has an airport with one terminal and flights in from London, so they fancy themselves an International Airport. Anyway, its about 4 hours away from Stockholm, I believe.

Oh wait…I need to go even one step back…to my little faux pas at the security line in London…I will not go into detail too much here as your minds will wonder in, sadly, the same direction that security did. I had a banana in my backpack that I had planned on having as a snack….sounds innocent enough, right…well, you would be wrong! FYI for any of you flying in the near future…bananas cause a bit of a disruption when they go through the little scanner….disruption like it shows up a little strangely, causing snickers and silly grins shot in my direction by the TSA people. 'Nuf said.

Anyway, we had arranged a taxi from the airport in Gothenburg….hmmmm….where is the little taxi guy with the sign that has our names on it? A quick call to the company and we find out that the airport called the driver to let him know our plane was delayed, but failed to call him back and update him on the new time. Yes, you are correct - there are many things wrong with that statement. 1 - the fact that the air traffic controller can call the taxi companies to let them know if planes are delayed gives you a bit of an indication on the size of this place and how busy the day must be for said controller. 2 - ummmm….interesting since our flight left London 5 minutes early.

Anywho…the driver shows up about 15 minutes later in, what else, a little Volvo! I don't want to stereotype here, but if we were to see an Ikea, I would have been in HEAVEN!!

Off we go, me up front since car sickness is still a bit of a problem and we had 170 km to make it through….2 k into it, though I had serious thoughts about trying to vault myself into the way back of the wagon as the driver hadn't bathed, I think, since maybe 1973.

He consulted the GPS, called the dispatcher, and then informed us that he wasn't sure where Ed was, his dispatcher couldn't find it, he thought he could get us close, then he'd find a local with a map - so sit back, we should be there in about 2 and a half hours….oh joy, since it was only 10:30 already, I couldn't imagine this little trip not taking me into the wee hours of the morning and into parts unknown.

Sonia, my friend, co-worker, and current partner in crime, was in the back and I so wanted to text her to talk about this craziness, but my phone was in my bag in the back!! She had been to Ed before - she said it was like and hour and a half trip! What is he talking about 2 and a half hours??!!?

About 20 minutes into it, he informs us that we need to stop for gas. He gets out and I whip around to Sonia…she had the same look on her face that I had on mine!

She had tried to email/im/text anyone we thought might have a clue about how to get to this place….honestly, who puts a call centre in the middle of nowhere?!!? Before we could get to into our discussion, though, Smelly Driver hops back in the car and away we go.

Now, my math isn't perfect…but our total journey was 170 km, we had already gone 40 k, and when I glanced at the speedometer we were doing 140 kph….hmmm….what time warp were we going to be going through that would make this a 105 minutes?

Ummm….well, maybe there would be an explanation….is that his check engine light on?!?!!?

OK - it’s a bit official now…I'm not too proud to say it….I was a bit on edge at this point….HELLO….Situation Room…Wolfe Blitzer, can we get an update…'Well, Tiffany, at this time we are about 120 k away from the drop zone…possibly since the leader of this platoon does not know the coordinates of said drop zone. We are running with vehicles that may or may not deliver and protect us and its now 11ish in a foreign country where our only guide smells like dead feet.

Situation - Code Red.

Hello God, this is Tiffany….I know its been a while and I really am sorry for that, but can we talk a bit?

And so the time passed on…the kilometres passed by…and my sanity passed out around midnight.

Ummmm…….is that the red light on by the gas gauge?!?!

OH

MY

LANTA

What else could go wrong here?!!? We have now turned off the main road….the little GPS says that we only have about 30 k left…what's that?…like 18 miles? I can so walk that if need be…I only have a backpack…

Now my eyes are basically glued to the dashboard, as the km tick by and my potential hike gets shorter and shorter things are looking brighter….and logic would dictate, that even though we are in a volvo - one of the most reliable cars on the market - in any country…oh - and we just passed a gas station!! The gauge must be broken - maybe that explains the check engine light…but still, eyes glued to the dashboard…when they weren't watering from the horrible waves of noxious fumes emanating from the driver.

OH YEAH!!!! I s that a sigh for ED?!?! WHEW HOOO!!!! 22 Km!!!

We might just get there in one piece and with no break downs!!!

Ed….8 km

That’s less than 4 miles - bring it on if the car breaks down!!

Hmmm….we seem to be going further than 4 miles…..

Ed….18 km

WHAT?!!?! So we pull over and Skippy the Driving Wonder calls over to dispatch again….this time, though we end up getting coordinates - yeah - you read that right - dispatch whips off the longitude and latitude and back on the road we go

Ed…does that say welcome?!?! It says something about Ed and that close enough for me!!!

Luckily, there is only one main road in Ed, so it was easy to find the hotel. The taxi dropped us off and we kindly paid our 3000 Kronas…roughly £250…$500.

We had been told earlier in the day that since we would be arriving after hours, they would just leave our keys in the red box beside the door to reception….sounds interesting.

The place is completely dark….and there are about 10 sets of doors….and no red box in sight.

We walk about half way around the place checking doors and nothing.

Oh look…there is one door with a light! Lets try it…

DANGER WILL ROBIN….DANGE WILL ROBIN!!!

Alarm going off….red lights flashing…..what the ?!?! Who leaves a door open when it has an alarm on?!?! Who are these people!?!?!

What to do….what to do?!!?

Stay…run….stay….run…..

Happy medium…lets walk towards the other side of the building…..oh….is that a red box?

Oh…is that a security guard coming up the road?

We grab our keys and meet Mr. Securitas (Swedish for Security) in the parking lot….I give him the flimsy excuse of the door being open and trying to find the key…he just nods and gets back in his car and leaves….apparently securitas is not so tightas….

Thankfully we get to our rooms, which were 'nicely appointed efficiency apartments'….all together now…can you say allegedly?

I opened the door and walked into a summer camp cabin….circa 1956. Who are these people?!?! I thought Sweden was the efficiency Mecca for the world….the utilitarian capital of the universe?!?!

I would have given my last frequent flier miles for some clean lines and white counters….can I get an amen from the Utilitarians?!!?

The wallpaper was mustard colour stripes - not sure if it started out that colour, but after 50 years, that is what it had faded to. Beautiful linoleum floors…I mean honestly, it must take an extreme amount of skill to lay something like that in such a manner that you know in 5 decades it will warps so perfectly as to create an ocean wave like feel to the place…

The microwave had dials…I can only assume this was maybe installed at the same time they put the Beta VCRs in the rooms?

The bed was 2 twins pushed together…my thought was, 'Score!! Double bed!!' This is actually not really common when travelling in Europe and its really a treat when you get a double bed…or two singles…and you didn't ask for them. Then I looked and thought, 'hmmm….strange they put the sheets on, but left the comforter folder? Lets just shake this out and all will be fine.'

I shook, expecting it to unfold…no luck…I had a single comforter for my 'double' bed…oh well…who cares? I was dead tired and wanted to pass out before I thought too much into this place and started to freak myself out…I had visions of the Mothman tapping at the windows, people under the stairs…the dude from The Shining coming after me…this is maybe when I need to rethink the amount of telly I watch when I can’t sleep at night…

The people there are actually quite nice, though, so no real issues there….

We did have a little bit of a worry at one point, when one person told us that they rent some of the extra space in the building to the school across the street that has continuing classes for the mentally challenged…then someone else told us that we had been using temporary employees from the school across the street to assist us in answering customer calls since we had recently had high call volumes….um, there is only one school across the street that we could see….I don't want to be rude here…but you put the math together…

Come to find out that the woman that told us about the mentally challenged students may have been a bit challenged herself since the school across the street was a community college that had a hospitality degree and some of those students work in the Expedia Contact Centre…makes much better sense.

Anywho, for dinner that night we had our choice of 2 places…Ed's or The Inn. The Inn had stuffed animals on every available space on all the walls and ceiling…including a moose's head on one side and said moose's backside on the other….not the hind legs and body…just the backside and tail…lovely to look at while eating dinner…

Wednesday evening our flight was out of Gothenburg at 9:10pm. We thought that maybe we would do the budget conscious thing and take the train from Ed to Gothenburg. The train went through Ed twice daily and we thought that it was a little early - 3:30 for us to leave, but we could kick around Gothenburg for a bit and all would be fine….famous last words….

We go on the bus at 3:28 and were to change trains at 4:04 at one of the stations.

Announcement Lady nicely informs us that there is track work, so at the next stop, we are all to get off the train and onto buses for the rest of our journeys…

So onto the bus we go…for 2 hours.

We got to Gothenburg around 5:45 and didn't need to check in until 7:10 at the earliest. So, we walked around Gothenburg for a bit. It really is a nice little city, and there was a cultural festival going on that week, so it was a nice little break.

Around 6:45, we grabbed a taxi for our 30 minute little jaunt to the airport.

Hmmmm……sky looking very ominous…very black all of the sudden.

Oh my…blinding rain…lovely….my flight better not be delayed!! I want out of this little country!!!

Oh look!! There's Ikea!! I saw a really Ikea in Sweden!!!! FYI, all those crazy names of stuff at Ikea are actually names of cities and places in Sweden - no joke, I saw directional signs for places that I know to be furniture at Ikea!!

Anyway, we make it to the airport unscathed and in time to check in our required 2 hours prior to departure.

Just to set the picture, the Gothenburg airport Check In area is roughly the size of…oh…a Claire's boutique! And the Restaurant is about the size of an Arby's…this was going to be a long 2 hours.

We were only delayed 20 minutes, though, so off we were headed for home.

Now, because we were going in and out of Stanstead Airport - the airport which is the furthest from Central London as you can get without crossing into another country or hitting water - I had to grab a train back to the city…55 minute lil' journey.

Once off the train…at 11:30 at night, I head for the tube…sit on the tube….sit on the tube…sit on the tube…find out there are (obviously) severe delays on the Yellow Line…and head up to ground level to hail a taxi…which as fate would have it was driven by the oldest, chattiest, most directionally challenged cabbie in all of London that was lucky enough to hit every bump, red light and road construction area in the greater London area…oh joy!!! What travel gods did I tick off!?!?!

So 10 hours and 15 minutes (1 hour for the time difference) after leaving the office in Ed…and 6 modes of transportation later, I made it home…safe and sound to my lovely double bed with its lovely double sized comforter, its walls painted in this century, and its floors all nicely even:)

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles…and buses, tubes, and taxis

This week finds me in Ed, Sweden….pronounced iiiid (pronounce this 3 octaves lower than Barry White). As I said before, Milan is the Detroit of Italy….well, I have found the West Virginia of Sweden.

My first thought was…..hmmmm….is that banjo music I ear? Do these hills, in fact, have eyes?

But maybe we should start a bit earlier than getting into Ed….since, like they say, the journey is half the fun…

Ed, for those of you not familiar with it…which would logically be everyone in the world that doesn't live there….is about 170 km from Gothenburg….which is also not that big, but has an airport with one terminal and flights in from London, so they fancy themselves an International Airport. Anyway, its about 4 hours away from Stockholm, I believe.

Oh wait…I need to go even one step back…to my little faux pas at the security line in London…I will not go into detail too much here as your minds will wonder in, sadly, the same direction that security did. I had a banana in my backpack that I had planned on having as a snack….sounds innocent enough, right…well, you would be wrong! FYI for any of you flying in the near future…bananas cause a bit of a disruption when they go through the little scanner….disruption like it shows up a little strangely, causing snickers and silly grins shot in my direction by the TSA people. 'Nuf said.

Anyway, we had arranged a taxi from the airport in Gothenburg….hmmmm….where is the little taxi guy with the sign that has our names on it? A quick call to the company and we find out that the airport called the driver to let him know our plane was delayed, but failed to call him back and update him on the new time. Yes, you are correct - there are many things wrong with that statement. 1 - the fact that the air traffic controller can call the taxi companies to let them know if planes are delayed gives you a bit of an indication on the size of this place and how busy the day must be for said controller. 2 - ummmm….interesting since our flight left London 5 minutes early.

Anywho…the driver shows up about 15 minutes later in, what else, a little Volvo! I don't want to stereotype here, but if we were to see an Ikea, I would have been in HEAVEN!!

Off we go, me up front since car sickness is still a bit of a problem and we had 170 km to make it through….2 k into it, though I had serious thoughts about trying to vault myself into the way back of the wagon as the driver hadn't bathed, I think, since maybe 1973.

He consulted the GPS, called the dispatcher, and then informed us that he wasn't sure where Ed was, his dispatcher couldn't find it, he thought he could get us close, then he'd find a local with a map - so sit back, we should be there in about 2 and a half hours….oh joy, since it was only 10:30 already, I couldn't imagine this little trip not taking me into the wee hours of the morning and into parts unknown.

Sonia, my friend, co-worker, and current partner in crime, was in the back and I so wanted to text her to talk about this craziness, but my phone was in my bag in the back!! She had been to Ed before - she said it was like and hour and a half trip! What is he talking about 2 and a half hours??!!?

About 20 minutes into it, he informs us that we need to stop for gas. He gets out and I whip around to Sonia…she had the same look on her face that I had on mine!

She had tried to email/im/text anyone we thought might have a clue about how to get to this place….honestly, who puts a call centre in the middle of nowhere?!!? Before we could get to into our discussion, though, Smelly Driver hops back in the car and away we go.

Now, my math isn't perfect…but our total journey was 170 km, we had already gone 40 k, and when I glanced at the speedometer we were doing 140 kph….hmmm….what time warp were we going to be going through that would make this a 105 minutes?

Ummm….well, maybe there would be an explanation….is that his check engine light on?!?!!?

OK - it’s a bit official now…I'm not too proud to say it….I was a bit on edge at this point….HELLO….Situation Room…Wolfe Blitzer, can we get an update…'Well, Tiffany, at this time we are about 120 k away from the drop zone…possibly since the leader of this platoon does not know the coordinates of said drop zone. We are running with vehicles that may or may not deliver and protect us and its now 11ish in a foreign country where our only guide smells like dead feet.

Situation - Code Red.

Hello God, this is Tiffany….I know its been a while and I really am sorry for that, but can we talk a bit?

And so the time passed on…the kilometres passed by…and my sanity passed out around midnight.

Ummmm…….is that the red light on by the gas gauge?!?!

OH

MY

LANTA

What else could go wrong here?!!? We have now turned off the main road….the little GPS says that we only have about 30 k left…what's that?…like 18 miles? I can so walk that if need be…I only have a backpack…

Now my eyes are basically glued to the dashboard, as the km tick by and my potential hike gets shorter and shorter things are looking brighter….and logic would dictate, that even though we are in a volvo - one of the most reliable cars on the market - in any country…oh - and we just passed a gas station!! The gauge must be broken - maybe that explains the check engine light…but still, eyes glued to the dashboard…when they weren't watering from the horrible waves of noxious fumes emanating from the driver.

OH YEAH!!!! I s that a sigh for ED?!?! WHEW HOOO!!!! 22 Km!!!

We might just get there in one piece and with no break downs!!!

Ed….8 km

That’s less than 4 miles - bring it on if the car breaks down!!

Hmmm….we seem to be going further than 4 miles…..

Ed….18 km

WHAT?!!?! So we pull over and Skippy the Driving Wonder calls over to dispatch again….this time, though we end up getting coordinates - yeah - you read that right - dispatch whips off the longitude and latitude and back on the road we go

Ed…does that say welcome?!?! It says something about Ed and that close enough for me!!!

Luckily, there is only one main road in Ed, so it was easy to find the hotel. The taxi dropped us off and we kindly paid our 3000 Kronas…roughly £250…$500.

We had been told earlier in the day that since we would be arriving after hours, they would just leave our keys in the red box beside the door to reception….sounds interesting.

The place is completely dark….and there are about 10 sets of doors….and no red box in sight.

We walk about half way around the place checking doors and nothing.

Oh look…there is one door with a light! Lets try it…

DANGER WILL ROBIN….DANGE WILL ROBIN!!!

Alarm going off….red lights flashing…..what the ?!?! Who leaves a door open when it has an alarm on?!?! Who are these people!?!?!

What to do….what to do?!!?

Stay…run….stay….run…..

Happy medium…lets walk towards the other side of the building…..oh….is that a red box?

Oh…is that a security guard coming up the road?

We grab our keys and meet Mr. Securitas (Swedish for Security) in the parking lot….I give him the flimsy excuse of the door being open and trying to find the key…he just nods and gets back in his car and leaves….apparently securitas is not so tightas….

Thankfully we get to our rooms, which were 'nicely appointed efficiency apartments'….all together now…can you say allegedly?

I opened the door and walked into a summer camp cabin….circa 1956. Who are these people?!?! I thought Sweden was the efficiency Mecca for the world….the utilitarian capital of the universe?!?!

I would have given my last frequent flier miles for some clean lines and white counters….can I get an amen from the Utilitarians?!!?

The wallpaper was mustard colour stripes - not sure if it started out that colour, but after 50 years, that is what it had faded to. Beautiful linoleum floors…I mean honestly, it must take an extreme amount of skill to lay something like that in such a manner that you know in 5 decades it will warps so perfectly as to create an ocean wave like feel to the place…

The microwave had dials…I can only assume this was maybe installed at the same time they put the Beta VCRs in the rooms?

The bed was 2 twins pushed together…my thought was, 'Score!! Double bed!!' This is actually not really common when travelling in Europe and its really a treat when you get a double bed…or two singles…and you didn't ask for them. Then I looked and thought, 'hmmm….strange they put the sheets on, but left the comforter folder? Lets just shake this out and all will be fine.'

I shook, expecting it to unfold…no luck…I had a single comforter for my 'double' bed…oh well…who cares? I was dead tired and wanted to pass out before I thought too much into this place and started to freak myself out…I had visions of the Mothman tapping at the windows, people under the stairs…the dude from The Shining coming after me…this is maybe when I need to rethink the amount of telly I watch when I can’t sleep at night…

The people there are actually quite nice, though, so no real issues there….

We did have a little bit of a worry at one point, when one person told us that they rent some of the extra space in the building to the school across the street that has continuing classes for the mentally challenged…then someone else told us that we had been using temporary employees from the school across the street to assist us in answering customer calls since we had recently had high call volumes….um, there is only one school across the street that we could see….I don't want to be rude here…but you put the math together…

Come to find out that the woman that told us about the mentally challenged students may have been a bit challenged herself since the school across the street was a community college that had a hospitality degree and some of those students work in the Expedia Contact Centre…makes much better sense.

Anywho, for dinner that night we had our choice of 2 places…Ed's or The Inn. The Inn had stuffed animals on every available space on all the walls and ceiling…including a moose's head on one side and said moose's backside on the other….not the hind legs and body…just the backside and tail…lovely to look at while eating dinner…

Wednesday evening our flight was out of Gothenburg at 9:10pm. We thought that maybe we would do the budget conscious thing and take the train from Ed to Gothenburg. The train went through Ed twice daily and we thought that it was a little early - 3:30 for us to leave, but we could kick around Gothenburg for a bit and all would be fine….famous last words….

We go on the bus at 3:28 and were to change trains at 4:04 at one of the stations.

Announcement Lady nicely informs us that there is track work, so at the next stop, we are all to get off the train and onto buses for the rest of our journeys…

So onto the bus we go…for 2 hours.

We got to Gothenburg around 5:45 and didn't need to check in until 7:10 at the earliest. So, we walked around Gothenburg for a bit. It really is a nice little city, and there was a cultural festival going on that week, so it was a nice little break.

Around 6:45, we grabbed a taxi for our 30 minute little jaunt to the airport.

Hmmmm……sky looking very ominous…very black all of the sudden.

Oh my…blinding rain…lovely….my flight better not be delayed!! I want out of this little country!!!

Oh look!! There's Ikea!! I saw a really Ikea in Sweden!!!! FYI, all those crazy names of stuff at Ikea are actually names of cities and places in Sweden - no joke, I saw directional signs for places that I know to be furniture at Ikea!!

Anyway, we make it to the airport unscathed and in time to check in our required 2 hours prior to departure.

Just to set the picture, the Gothenburg airport Check In area is roughly the size of…oh…a Claire's boutique! And the Restaurant is about the size of an Arby's…this was going to be a long 2 hours.

We were only delayed 20 minutes, though, so off we were headed for home.

Now, because we were going in and out of Stanstead Airport - the airport which is the furthest from Central London as you can get without crossing into another country or hitting water - I had to grab a train back to the city…55 minute lil' journey.

Once off the train…at 11:30 at night, I head for the tube…sit on the tube….sit on the tube…sit on the tube…find out there are (obviously) severe delays on the Yellow Line…and head up to ground level to hail a taxi…which as fate would have it was driven by the oldest, chattiest, most directionally challenged cabbie in all of London that was lucky enough to hit every bump, red light and road construction area in the greater London area…oh joy!!! What travel gods did I tick off!?!?!

So 10 hours and 15 minutes (1 hour for the time difference) after leaving the office in Ed…and 6 modes of transportation later, I made it home…safe and sound to my lovely double bed with its lovely double sized comforter, its walls painted in this century, and its floors all nicely even:)

An ode to my lonely and seemingly forgotten friends….

Dear Lovely Little Shoes,

I see you all sitting patiently on the shelves in my closet. Sitting there so silent and lonely…just waiting for me pluck you from your resting place and show you to the world if only for a day or an evening. I know that you were all so used to having so many of your other friends around, but now your numbers have dwindled….just as the height of the heels have dwindled.

There was a time, dear shoes, when my love your all of you was all encompassing, blind even to a few blisters, and I could not ever have too many of you in my little collection.

But now we have all come to a place called London and I fear that you all feel forgotten. While my heart loves this new strange place, I know my feet hate it and resent me for it!! This place is no place for heels the likes of all of you. My little feet scream some days when I choose fashion over function. But now there you all sit, you boys and girls with leather and laces, your brilliant hues hidden from the world in your boxed prison.

It sometimes makes me sad to think of all the fun we had together not so long ago. You with your way of making me smile on an early morning when jeans didn't fit, but you always did, your way of making me walk a little taller at the end of some days where my only bright spot was the beauty encasing my little tootsies.

OH! How I miss you little shoes of mine. I know that you must feel jealous when I bring home a new playmate….you see me slip the supple leather on and say, 'Thank You Clark whoever you are for making such comfy shoes!' I know that you feel your high heels and strappy sandals are no longer appreciated, but you are - oh you still are!!

We will be together again lovely zapatos! There will come a time when you can begin your days with me pressed to the peddle and know that you will not be made to hustle through the streets of a bustling city, being made to dodge and weave around hordes of tourists and visitors that wear the likes of you since they didn't realize they would be doing just that! Fear not my lovely little friends, some day you will be free for your cardboard confines and pressed to service once more. You will accompany me to parties, shops, dinners, afternoon strolls, days in the office and so many other little occasions that are made meaningful when you are spotted and we hear the swift intake of breathe followed by those words you love to hear…'Wow, cute shoes!!'

Know that I love you even though I do not wear you often, The Shoe Queen

Greece

OK - Greece is my new favourite country. I won't lie - there were a couple times when I thought about pulling an 'Under The Tuscan Sky' and buying a little house on an obscure island in the Ionian Sea.

The kayaking was absolutely incredible!! We did about 50 nautical miles in 4.5 days…that’s about 60 land miles….about 100 km!! GO ME!!!

As is usual and par for my course, there were a few small snafus…I mean honestly, how could there not have been? Its me we're talking about here!!

I know that London is full of pickpockets….I know this….but on Wednesday night, with thoughts of Greece and the beautiful islands dancing in my head, I failed to stuff my wallet to the bottom of my rucksack (backpack) and thus had my first London Pickpocket experience…man are they good!!! I never felt a thing!! I know when it happened, too. I was getting off the bus at my flat…crimes always happen within 2 miles (or feet in this case) of the home! Luckily, though, I got everything cancelled pretty quick and should have had my replacement cards waiting for me when I got home (yeah…you caught that did you…should have….meaning they weren't!! But I'm getting ahead of myself here.)

Anyway, small crisis….everything fine….it could have been worse….yada yada yada….in the scheme of things, what did I care….I was going to GREECE!!!

I got to Athens late Thursday night and was struck immediately with 2 thoughts:

My first thought as my driver and I hit the road was that, 'Wow, this is the most non-European European city I have been to!' It honestly reminded my of the airport in Albuquerque! Granted, we were a bit outside the city, and I know they did some major improvements to the area for the Olympic games, but still! Then we passed the Ikea and it was like I could have been on US soil again!!!

My second thought was, 'Wow, the sky is so big here….there is just so much open space!!' Then I realized, I think its possible I've been in the city too long! Its not that there was so much open space…its that there weren't so many tall buildings blocking the view! I have become so accustomed to city dwelling that I had actually forgotten what it was like to not be surrounded by buildings with less than 4 stories!

I spent Thursday evening and Friday morning/afternoon exploring Athens on my own and doing a little shopping in the local markets

Friday night, we all met up at the hotel and off we went for a bit of exploring through the city centre and our first (of many) amazing Greek dinners!

I have never liked olives…my mother will attest that I have never adopted her love for olives…wait…lets be more accurate here….my mother has an outright addiction to olives and pickled beets…an addiction that she has now passed along to my niece and nephew no less!!! Anyway, I have never liked either…until I had them in Greece!! I don't know what it is, but olives - and yes, pickled beets - taste amazing in Greece…could it be that they are so fresh…so unprocessed…so without that little red thing in the centre?!!? I don't care…but I now love me some olives!!!

Anyway, our first little episode as a group happened the first night. We were all getting on the metro bus to head back the hotel…there was a little confusion since there had been an accident on the tram line and we had to jump over to the bus pavilion quickly….um so quickly that when our bus pulled up - almost immediately - that one of the women from our group didn't make it on the bus! We realized it pretty quick though, and she is from NYC, so she knew how to hail a cab and sure enough, she actually beat us back to the hotel!!

The next day we left Athens and headed to the south eastern coast…that would be the day we got a flat tire on the van. No worries, luckily we were really close to a petrol station that had a snack bar and a garage, so we were only stopped for a short bit…had our lunch there and we were back on our way!

We arrived in Vassalikki that night - a beautiful little fishing village where we were to hit the water the next day. We had a great dinner - right on the water and did a little sight seeing - all 3 blocks - before heading back to the hotel - our last for the next 4 nights.

Sunday morning dawned bright and beautiful for us. We headed out to sea with the winds at our backs and our sights set high!

Until we hit some choppy water….really choppy water….really really choppy water….are you getting the picture here? And no - I WAS NOT one of the ones that got sea sick….really sea sick…really really sea sick….like so sea sick it was a good thing we had a support boat with us because we had to tow a couple people that had some problems just staying in their kayaks because they were so sick!

I have never been sea sick….but that is the closest I have ever come….and the closest I ever want to be!

We paddled about 12 nautical miles that day and made camp at the first of 2 of our camp sights. I will freely admit here that I am not really a camper. I like many outdoor things…hiking, kayaking, rowing, climbing, repelling….but I also like to end a nice day or outdoor activity with a good shower and a comfy bed. I will also say that - and I'm not even sure what my own logic is behind this - but that I don't really feel like camping on the beach is really camping. Yeah - I know - I said I don't even know what I base that on…but there you have it.

However, all my doubts not withstanding…I think I did rather well for camping for 4 nights! I even did one night right out on the beach under the stars!! Why did I do so well?? OK - I'll spill….at the first camp sight, there was a restaurant down the lane that left their bathrooms open to us and even gave us free use of their hose…who would have guessed that a shower under the hose would be so great…but then again, when you are covered in a film of salt water…well, beggars cant be choosers:) The second camp sight was also somewhat close to a little village and one evening a few of us paid 2 euro for real showers at a little place in town that, I believe, probably makes as much off of their shower income from the boaters as they do for their lunch/dinner income! Oh did I mention that along with our support boat were George and Phivos - our cooks, guides, rescuers, comedy relief and general jacks of all trade for the trip? Yeah…I like camping Greek beach style!

Anywhooo….I'm getting ahead of myself here….back to day 2 and the kayaks….

The next morning we did a little day paddle around a few of the closer islands…one being Scorpios….sound familiar? That’s the Onassis' Island! We did a little snorkelling and swimming in the very same waters as Jackie and the kids….well maybe, I don't know if they were ever swimming on the one small inlet of the island where they allow 'the other half' to anchor or not…but you never know!!

Our day paddle only had us going about 9 miles….which wouldn't have been bad at all if that hadn't been the same day one of the paddles broke. Luckily we had enough experienced paddlers that we were able to shift things around a bit and make due until George could make a quick trip to one of the close villages later that night and pick up a spare!

The next day we broke camp and headed out for our long day - 14 miles!! But we did really well and kept a great pace, so it wasn't that bad at all….well, except for the little cove incident that could have been A LOT worse than it was….

What happened at the cove you ask….well I could just say rogue wave, but that wouldn't really do the whole situation justice!

Sooooo……

We all pull our kayaks up to this little cove for a bit so that we could do a little snorkelling. As a point of reference, the cove kind of split in two, so a few kayaks were on one side and a few were on the other….you could walk between the 2 little inlets, but the space was only a few feet of beach wide. The entire little cove/inlet was maybe 25 ft wide and 10 ft deep. Logistics are important here….13 or us plus George and Phivos in the boat….George leads the snorkellers…Peny, one of the 2 guides, joined Phivos in the boat, 6 of us (myself included( went out to sea a bit to snorkel, and Deb, the other guide stayed in the cove with the beached kayaks and the 6 remaining kayakers.

Off the snorkelers go…for maybe 20/30 minutes? We went out of the little cove area and around a corner to check out some underwater beauty.

And came back to a scene that looked like something out of 'The Day After Tomorrow'!!

The kayaks were all jumbled together, 2 of our little group were bleeding, some paddles were in the water, Peny was in the water rescuing some of the stuff that we had in our kayaks and Phivos was attending to the wounded!!

Apparently, the remaining group were taking a leisurely break when a few rouge waves came out of nowhere, they had no where to go and in a valiant attempt to save the kayaks from getting sucked out to sea, they got slammed back against the rocks when other waves came in relentlessly…and it was all done my the time we came up for air.

All in all, the injuries were minimal, the kayaks were only a little worse for wear, and between all of us, we sacrificed one glove, a few tubes of sunscreen, one pair of sunglasses and a compass to the sea.

And back on our way we went…I must admit that I honestly don't think we would have faired so well in there was a different dynamic for our group. We were all pretty laid back, pretty resourceful, willing to jump in and help each other at a moments notice and just overall a good mesh of personalities and outlooks on all of our crazy situations.

That was the evening that a few of us water-weary decided that 2 euro for a real shower seemed a cheap price to pay for a few moments of salt free water!

The next day we did another short day trip around a few of the local islands - about 8 miles total…well it should have been about 9 miles, but prior to the sea rescue, we had only done about 8 miles.

Oh yes…that’s right…your eyes did not deceive you…we had a minor situation and had to be rescued at sea.

Our day started out beautiful! The sun was shining, the breeze was at our backs, we had made a little stop at one of the beaches for some uneventful snorkelling and sun bathing, had a great picnic lunch at a little fishing village - even had some local frozen coffee at an incredible windmill/bar to get us through the afternoon…and began our trip back towards camp.

When out of nowhere….the head winds whipped up and the waves started to get a bit choppy…within about 30/45 minutes, we went from slight winds and slightly choppy water to 35/40 mph winds and waves that were 3 to 4 ft high!!!

Again, though, luck was on our side, none of us rolled our kayaks - which was an absolute miracle given the circumstances. We were able to all make it to a beach close by and ditch our kayaks on land. We had a little rough swim out to the support boat and had to get a ride back to camp. Later that night the boat was able to go back and tow all our kayaks back for us!!

That evening we had a beach bonfire, takeout souvlaki, a little local wine and ouzo and a great time laughing over all of our adventures.

The next morning, we broke camp again and headed the 3 miles across the channel, back to the mainland…and back to reality.

Oh, but we weren't in the clear yet…

We made it back to terra firma without incident and all piled into the van to head towards Delphi - famed for its ruins of the temples and market stalls that were home to the famous ancient Oracle.

Maybe if we had had an Oracle for guidance we might have been able to tell that one of the belts on the van was about to break?

We made it about half way to Delphi…were on a treacherous little stretch of road when we all heard it….the unmistakable rattle that you know is not right….

This time though, we were not too close to any rest stop, but we were pretty close to a little fishing village that luckily had one outdoor bar where we whiled away the hour or so it took for a new van to come and pick us all up.

We made it to Delphi though and had a quick tour of the ruins - which were incredible and so breathtakingly beautiful...and so high on a cliff that it amazed me that anyone would care to hear what an Oracle preached if they had to climb that high to hear it!!

After some time spent in the village of Delphi and a dinner - our last together - off we headed back to Athens.

Now, I recognize after writing this that readers may get the impression that we had a crazy adventure and they may wonder how or why I would have had a decent vacation let alone love Greece….well, it was a crazy adventure…but I have become used to craziness I suppose and when you have some other people with you to all laugh through it, then it becomes less crazy and more fun and just all part of the experience in the end.

And as for my love of Greece….I can not begin to describe the beauty that Greece posses…I won't even try! From the million shades of blue in the sea to the multitude and magnitude of the vegetation and landscapes…all I can say is that it is the closest place to heaven on earth that I could ever imagine.

I know I have failed a bit on the details....the names of the islands we visited and the descriptions of our village jounts, the other kayakers on the trip...so many details that I could really spend days and days and blogs and blogs writing about....but for now, I'll just keep it to a summary and add more here and there on the rainy days in London when I have nothing of import to write on and my mind wonders back to the Greek Islands...

No rest for the weary...and slightly wicked;)

OK, so first off I will apologize for my....shall we say...slightly overdue update since my last entry.

I really don't have any good excuse...I could very easily create some random crazy story about why I haven't been able to write lately...and since my life is usually a bit on the random crazy side anyway, there would be no telling the difference. But...I will be honest - I just haven't had time!

How in the world an entire month has slipped past me is beyond me, but it has, so here we are.

What has been going on...

Rowing...as it turns out after all my efforts and extensive training...it turns out that I really don't like rowing too much....go figure?

I'm sure it has nothing to do with the french man that kept getting the spot behind me. He had what can only be described as an superhuman reach and an uncanny ability to ALWAYS be out of time with the rest of us. End result...i had bruises on my back for a week since he kept slamming his uncoordinated super outstretched fists into me!! I'm not even exaggerating...like I ever do:)...the cox (the chick at the front that yells stroke...stroke...stroke) she even yelled at him twice and then told him to stop rowing since he was so out of time!

But it wasn't just frenchie that got to me...the logistics were a nightmare, too. Its the first time I actually sort of missed driving. The rowing club is only 8 miles from my flat...it took me 52 minutes to traverse those 8 little miles. I just figured that there are better ways to waste 104 minutes of my time twice a week.

Besides, the few people that I met rowing aren't joining either...we have decided to be rowing outcasts together.

Besides the rowing and masses amount of work I've been doing lately...you heard me...my workaholic tendencies are creeping back!! I know! I know!!! I swore it would never happen!! I am wearing a watch and drinking coffee now!!! Its a whole new world!!

But never fear...its not for the long term. I am in a bit of a crunch is all and it should be back to more normal hours in the next couple months...

Next couple months you say?!!? Well yes....simply because this Thursday will find me kicking off a 10 day trip to Greece and then when I get back, I will be in 5 countries in 5 weeks for work!

So as you can see...my next couple of busy months aren't so bad....busy...but what a way to be busy!

Now with that mini update, I am off to try to finish some laundry and figure out what else I need to get for My Big Fat Greece Vacation!!

Dr. Phil time and other moments of enlightenment...

Lately I have gotten a few emails, letters, calls, IMs, and even a text message with one of two questions; 1 - Did you make the rowing team? 2 - what's going on with the Match.com stuff?!?! Apparently everyone is a bit more interested in my love life than I am.

Oh wait…light bulb….hmmm….I realize that might be the root of my issues…oh well, I am not writing a self analysis blog today, so Dr. Phil can just hold his horses…

I figured I owed you all a little (long overdue) update, though!!

The easier (and shorter) of the 2 is the rowing situation. YES! I did make the first round of cuts!! I am a rower now!! Go figure, the little girl from land-locked Grove City, PA is now a rower on the Thames! There is a little catch, though. While I did make the first round of cuts - Yeah me!! - so did a lot of others… Basically, they had so many people that came out for the beginners session, they haven't really had us out on the water that much since they only take 8 or 16 out per session.

Here in lies the rub, though…all these slacker people that missed one or two of the first three sessions - which were required thank you very much - have started to show up now and the people running the sessions are letting them!!

Granted, the more rational, socially acceptable part of me thinks 'that’s nice…let all of them get a chance to experience the joy of rowing.'

Then there is the other part of me…we'll call her not so open minded tiffany…thinks 'what the heck?!!?' Where is the justice!! I was there all three sessions - even cancelled a date (we'll get into that later) in order to be at one of them!! And what do I get!? - bumped from time on the water because these people apparently have no sense of commitment to the Sons of the Thames Beginners Rowing Group!?!? What's next? Are we going to just pull random people off the street and see if they want to do a little rowing? I mean really, if you are going to have a rule, then you ought to stick to it.

Please, no snickering by any of you here. I know that I have made it…shall we say a hobby...to bend as many rules as I can, but this one, maybe because it falls to my benefit, is one that I feel a bit passionate about sticking to!

Yeah…not so open minded tiffany is not allowed out into public all the time…lets put her back….but she does have a point.

Anywho, that’s the rowing update…I made this round, but there might be more…oh and I am up for the challenge!!

Now…drum roll, please…..the dating update…

Let me just apologize right off the bat here since the update is really a bit anticlimactic…

As Caesar once said, Veni, Vidi, Vici…I came, I saw, I conquered….and now I have removed my profile from Match.com (though I think maybe old Julius never had online dating in mind, his philosophy still applies)

Here's the stats:

My profile was online for 37 days and I had…

201 hits on my profile (50% of which were in the first 2 weeks)
19 winks
10 emails
5 winks sent back for 6 that I initiated
3 responses to the 5 emails I initiated
6 phone calls
4 coffee dates & 3 free cups of coffee (yeah…you do the math, but I'll give you a hint...it doesn't equal second date for someone…)
1 dinner date
2 second dates
0 third dates

Stats on the matches...or non-matches depending upon how you look at it:

4 solicitors (lawyers)
2 financial analysts (one of which only responded to me because he liked that I was American as was he and he was tired of only meeting English women…um, what did you expect?!?! His analytic abilities must not go past the finance realm)
2 doctors
1 mortgage analyst
1 musician (guess who didn't buy me a cup of coffee…maybe I needed to sing for it?)
1 stockbroker
1 book editor
1 Scotland Yard detective (yeah - how cool is that! I just met him since I was - we weren't even a good match on paper let alone in reality, but I can now say I've been out with a Scotland Yard Detective!!)
1 teacher
1 system developer
1 comic book artist (he was a weird one - he had all these comic references in his email, I didn't even understand what he was talking about…I didn't email back)
1 waiter (granted, in his home country, he was a physicist…but you're in the UK now, not Lithuania)

5 still lived with their parents (one of the doctors, the musician (surprise), the book editor (he said his mum was elderly, though) and the comic book artist (surprise surprise)
3 were atheist
1 was Buddhist
7 were divorced…and 2 were pretty vocal about their ex's short comings…perfect 'get to know you' conversation

9 had kids from previous relationships…totalling 14 kids Youngest match - 23 (no my profile did not state ' I like 'em young', It said I was looking for some one between 29 and 40 - apparently the young ones can't follow direction)
Oldest match - 52 (see above…maybe he needs stronger glasses)
Furthest match - Seattle, Washington…ummm…you're cut since you are so bad with logistics…
1 said that my American accent was 'sexy'…thanks for the compliment….but when uttered by the lips of a 23 year old…with a lisp…not so sexy.

Basically, as experiences go, it was fun and interesting and I got to meet some interesting (and some sad) characters. I got a free dinner and some free coffee and a few compliments that are always good for the ego (regardless of the motivation).

But the thing that I realized…I don't really feel the need to have to have somebody. I'm fine just the way I am. I like my life, I have great friends and a lot of things going for me here in London. So if it happens, it happens, but I don't feel the need (or have the time) to force it to happen.

I have a few friends that have gotten married recently and one that is involved in long term relationships and the thing that they have all said to me, in one form or another, at one point is this, 'I feel like I was just this half of a person until I met X, then I became whole'. The thing is, though. I don't feel like I am half a person. I don't feel like I need to have someone complete me. I think I'm a pretty well-rounded, complete person already.

I won't lie, though, if someone came along that added their complete self to the picture, that would be nice, but I don't want/need anyone to complete me and I sure don't want the burden of being the completion of someone else!

So there you have it…match was fun, but I didn't meet Mr. Right For Me and that’s totally fine. Besides, I'm in love with someone else anyway…me….the me that I am becoming here in London. I like my new life and I like the changes I'm seeing in myself everyday. I want to take time to get to know this new me…we like to row together and we like to walk home from work and enjoy the gardens, we like to find new cafés and she seems to be bringing me out of a rut I was settling into in the US. I think I owe it to myself…and Mr. Right For Me when he shows up on the scene…to learn this whole new version of me that I'm becoming…she is complete, but just a bit of a mystery to me right now.

Oh man...I guess Dr. Phil did slip into this a bit.....

It could have been worst…we could have been attacked by the swans

This past weekend, I decided that, in an effort to get ready for my upcoming kayaking trip in Greece, I better brush up on my kayaking skills. Its been about 5 years since I have even been in a kayak, and even then, it was just a few afternoon excursions with some friends - no destination, no need for any sort of education…just a few afternoons of fun on the water. I will also mention that those few afternoons were on sea kayaks…this tidbit comes into play later on.

Since there are no real kayaking groups or anything of the sort in London - odd since London is on a river, but whatever - I located an adventure and outdoor outfit that boasted great 1 on 1 afternoon lessons with experienced instructors on a beautiful lake close to the heart of London….hindsight being 20/20, every word of that sentence proved to be, by English standards, a stretch of the imagination and by American standards, an outright lie.

As the big day drew near, the weather, in typical English style, wavered between a sunny forecast and possible rain. A friend gave me some great advice when I first moved here, 'If you let the rain get to you, you'll never leave your flat!' I've tried to keep this in mind, and have learned to not even notice the intermittent drizzle.

In preparation, I received seemingly direct directions from the coordinator. I also talked Josh, my American friend and exploring buddy into coming along for the fun of it.

Everything seemed to be falling into place and it looked like I was on track to have a great afternoon on the water!!

But as you may have gleaned from my past blog misadventures, things do not usually go smooth or as planned with me.

I woke up Saturday morning to a torrential downpour.

I could not find my water resistant capris…the ones that I love!!

Since craziness happens in 3s…I was just waiting for the next thing to pop up…though, in all honesty, I've really come to enjoy the craziness and chaos that usually accompanies my careful planning….

Around 10ish, the rain stopped, though and while the sun didn't come out, the rain was holding off, so that is as much as any Londoner can ask for.

I packed my rucksack (backpack), filled my water bottle, called Josh to make sure he was out of bed, and headed to the tube station to meet up.

Oh - I have to interject here about my rucksack contents. We've covered this before, so when instructed on what to bring in my kit, I knew exactly what they were talking about!! But then when I looked at the kit list, I started to wonder what kind of 2 hour session this would be….the S.S. Minnow was only out for a 3 hour tour and I don't think they had this much stuff onboard!!

Recommended Kit contents for the 2 hour kayaking session:

Jacket / waterproofs

Plastic bag to store wet clothes

Sun hat / High factor sun block

Umbrella (I am guessing either you need the sun block or the umbrella)

Large towel

Spare trainers (sneakers)

Something to tie back long hair

No jewellery (since this attracts fish?)

Any medication you are taking and may need to take while climbing. (Climbing what? Over each other in a mad dash for the kayaks?)

A bottle of water

A packed lunch

Flask of hot drink (are they assuming we will capsize and need hot drink? What kind of drink are they referring to that would require a flask to be contained in….drinking and kayaking don't seem to go together in my mind…there's laws about that in the states)

Wet wipes and tissues (I don't even want to know)

A bag for your rubbish (how much rubbish could you have in 2 hours…how much could you bring in that packed lunch?)

A waterproof camera (now I don't want to point out the obvious here, but this is a kayak lesson…if you have a camera, and you want to have it ready to use at a moments notice…where are you putting it? In your lap…capsize and say good bye….around your wrist…paddling will prove a bit clumsy….and what are you taking pictures of anyway…its only 2 hours on a lake for a lesson…are these really Kodak moments?)

What I actually packed:

My water bottle

A change of dry clothes

A granola bar

An umbrella

My cell phone

My wallet

A towel

And I wore a waterproof windbreaker

So off I go to the tube station. I met up with Josh and we made a little snack stop before we headed out.

We get on the train, only to find it absolutely packed!! Come to find out that the football (soccer) premiership (aka English super bowl) is just a week away and all the playoff games are going on - at Wembley Stadium, which is the way we were headed.

Luckily we found free seats and after 4 stops, we passed the stadium and practically had the train to ourselves.

The first indication that I should have guessed that the lake was not 'close to the heart of London' was that it was in zone 6…I have lived in London and have never been further than zone 4…I didn't realize that there ever were 6 zones…and, come to find out, there are actually 9 zones in total!! It’s like if I were in the states, in Pittsburgh, cranberry would be zone 9! That’s a long way from zone 1 where I am!!

Nonetheless, zone 6 was only a mere 14 stops from where we got on, so 40 minutes later, we are at the Uxbridge station! I was instructed by Val, the kayak coordinator, that 'from the Uxbridge station, get the U9 bus that will stop on request at Dewes Lane, from there it is only a 600 metre walk to the lake."

How hard can that be???

We exit the station and spot the bus stop for U9! The train ride took a little longer than I had anticipated, so I called the coordinator, told her we were a bit late and would be there in about 15 minutes. She said no problem, if we were at the station we would be there in no time.

Josh and I were a little confused, I will admit, with the concept of the 'bus will stop on request'. In London, the bus would not stop in between stops if you went into labour, fell to the ground unconscious, or suddenly burst into flames!! Stop upon request? Were they serious? Granted, when we stepped off the train, I did comment that it didn't feel like we were in London anymore…it felt more like…well…what I would think Iowa is like…we were out there. So maybe they do stop when you ask them to here?

So the bus pulls up and I politely ask to be dropped off at Dewes Lane…and I get a look that clearly says this guy has never heard of Dewes Lane. Hillingdon Lake? Still getting the same glazed and confused look….

Never fear!! From behind me comes a small voice, "Where ya trying to get to sweets?" I turn to find a girl of about 18 looking at me. I tell her and she assures me that I am on the right bus. Josh and I get on and sit down and she comes over and starts whipping off directions to us. She starts talking about little alleys and side streets and blah blah blah….

Josh and I just looked at each other when she walked away…."Um, did she actually tell us where to get off the bus, though" I asked. "No" said Josh. "Oh, well maybe she'll let us know when we get close."

Sure enough, we go past a few stops and she comes up and says that this is where we want to get off….odd since it was a real stop and the directions said we had to ask to be let off? Another indicator could have been that we could overhear her and her boyfriend talking the entire time and he kept saying that he had never heard of the place…curious thing that.

So we get off the bus and look at each other a little confused…this kinda doesn't feel right…we frogger our way across the road and start out following her directions…only to learn very soon that we are no where near where we need to be…we don't know where we are…or where we need to get to, but we aren't there….

We call the coordinator lady…she has never heard of the street where we are and asks if we passed the dogs trust? The what? Dogs Trust…no idea what that is, but Josh saw a sign for it, so we must have passed it.

Back across the street we go….the next bus comes and I ask, since I like exercises in futility, if he knows where Dewes Lane is. Same blank look…. How about the Dogs Trust? "Oh!! You've not gotten there yet, get the bus on the other side and it will take you right there!"

Back across the street….another wait for the bus….

Since I learn my lessons the hard way…"Do you stop at Dewes Lane?"

Blank look!!!!

"The dogs Trust?"

"Right luv, hop on, its up aways."

We cover about 5 more kilometres and are truly out in the country now. What was that girl thinking? Was the alley she referred to some sort of body transported like on star trek?...cause there is no way that an alley could have taken us here!!!

The bus drops us off and the driver tells me that to get home, we just wait on the other side of the road and hail the bus…again - totally unheard of in London!!

We walk down this lane, past some sort of backwoods mechanic shop…we start to get a feeling like there might be banjo players about or something… then the lane finally breaks out and we see a whole recreational area ahead.

The lake, about the size of a large parking lot at a mall or something…just one side of the mall, though, not the entire lot…lays ahead of us.

And there were kids everywhere….if you know me, you know I've just rolled my eyes.

We make our way over to the log cabin - the designated meet point - only about 45 minutes late - and meet our illustrious guide.

The man looked a bit out of sorts…to put it nicely…I think maybe its possible he bathed in the lake water, which would explain the state of his hair (aka wild man meets a cyclone look). Also, he would have looked like the rugged outdoors type had he weighted more than, say…a boy scout.

Anyway, we exchange pleasantries and he asks if we are ready or if we needed to change? Now, I suddenly had flashes of my mother asking if I am going to wear that? What does he mean do we need to change? Clearly he is implying that we need to, but we are both in waterproof pullovers, old shoes and waterproof pants…what else did he think we needed to have on? We're here for a 2 hour lesson, not a 2 week outward bound adventure….

Oh…clearly this is what he meant….he pulls off his shirt and jacket and starts to outfit himself in a wetsuit….how wet does he plan to get? I don't plan to get too wet, here, so I think that is a bit unnecessary….whatever….

We get a little overview of the basics, then hit the water.

Now, I'm not saying it was completely the kayak that was the issue, but for nearly 2 hours, I basically went in circles to the left. Try as I might, paddle as I may, I would go straight for a bit, then sure enough, I would start to turn in circles to the left.

We were on river kayaks which are a lot different from sea kayaks…and much harder to manage, but still! I remember my last kayak outings as being fun and relaxing…this was for the birds!!! I am not worried about Greece, though. I am going kayaking - sea kayaking - again the weekend after next and I am sure it will be a much better time.

Anyway, Paul, our instructor extraordinaire takes us through some techniques and around the little lake and shows us a few tricks. One said trick almost made me tip - I even took on a little water!!! Close call!!!

Tricks you ask? Yes Tricks. Why do you call them tricks? As Josh so eloquently put it…'they are tricks since I can't seem to do them' Truer words were never spoken

We go about for a while and make our way towards the far bank…towards some swans. Side note, I accidentally called them geese and poor Paul about had a stroke…SORRY!!! Didn't know the English were so touchy about their birds.

So to set the stage, I am closest to the bank, but looking away from the bank, Paul is about 10 metres away from me, facing me, and Josh is about 15 metres past Paul, also facing me.

Paul begins to tell us a story about swans and how they attacked a friend of his. He suddenly becomes animated in this retelling and I was almost afraid he would tip…plus I can see Josh, but Paul can't and he is making all kinds of faces and hand gestures behind Paul - making me laugh all the harder - making Paul think I find his story funny…in all honesty, the wind was whipping a bit, and I only heard about every 5th word of the story! But the harder I laughed at Josh, the more Paul thought I was laughing at his story – talk about a vicious cycle!!!

Anyway, we finally make our way back to shore…even with my circular direction!! We successfully extract ourselves from the kayaks – without tipping!!!

We switch into dry clothes, say our thanks and good byes to Paul and call it a day.

Back up the lane we go…seriously wondering if a bus will really stop if we just wave at it. In London a bus won’t stop for you if you lay down in front of it!! Also, we were curious to see what a dog trust is. We had gotten off the bus and headed down the lane so quickly that we hadn’t really looked.

As it turns out, a Dog Trust is the equivalent of the SPCA in the US. I think it might be a bit nicer, though, since it was set out in the country and it looked like the dogs had a place to run and play…but what do I know?…I’m not really a dog person, but it seemed like a decent place for a dog to end up.

So we only had to wait for about 1 minute – perfect timing!! – and the bus comes rumbling around the corner.

Slight problem – we haven’t crossed the road yet!! In London, this would be no question – you missed the bus. Not so in Uxbridge!! The driver looks over at us and we wave and he nods and winks, pulls over and waits for us to cross the road and hop on!!

What?!?! Has the bus fairy blessed up out here? Have I become so accustomed to the London transportation system and it’s consistently crazy idiosyncrasies?

Apparently so….

Also, as it turns out, it is one of the three bus drivers that we used to get to this place!! We couldn’t remember which one he was, but he remembered us and seemed not so surprised that this is where we were….interesting….

Back to Uxbridge we go, all the while commenting about Little Miss Helpful with the bad sense of direction…how did she think we would get to that lake from where she told us to get off at?!?!? Crazy!!

But it could have been worse….we could have gotten attacked by the swans!!

Row, row, row your boat....

In all of my short 31 years on this earth, I have never displayed any competitive spirit. I have no desire to compete...at anything really. I mean honestly, I just never have seen the point in beating someone at something. If I can do something, then good for me…do I need to do it better than someone or anyone else…not really. I always sort of feel bad for those competition junkies that have to win at anything and everything…I just let them. For some reason that is obviously lost on me, they NEED to win...I don't so I let them.

Point in fact, for 3 years throughout college, I played racquetball every Tuesday night…and I never won a single game. Was it because I was bad? No. Was it because I had no idea what I was doing? No. Was it because I wasn't as fast as my opponent? No. It was for one reason only…my opponent needed to win.

I was in it for the social factor. I just wanted to get out and play ball once a week, get a good workout, and touch base with a good friend since our class and work schedules didn't allow too much free time. Did I ever feel bad about it? No!

The first time that we ever played, I scored the first few points and all the sudden I was seeing a new side of my friend….and it was not pretty. So at some point that first match, I started to pull back a bit…miss a return here…hit below the line there. What difference did it make? I was breaking a sweat, we were having a good time, and its not like I was trying to qualify for the Olympics or anything (is there racquetball in the Olympics? Maybe not - but you get my point).

I am a firm believer that for every poor loser there is a poor winner as well.

I have won my share of racquetball matches since then and had just as much fun since the people I was playing with were like me and didn't care which of us won so long as it was a good game.

I believe now, though, that my competitive spirit lay dormant through all these years though. I believe that it may have been due to the fact that I have never really found the thing that I needed to win at.

Until now.

Until rowing…(said in a voice full of reverence and determination)

Granted, I have never really rowed in my life…outside of the occasional afternoon kayak outing…but when presented with the possibility that I may get cut from the Sons of the Thames Novice Rowing Team (admittedly a sport that I have no experience in and an activity for which I only joined in an effort to meet people and get a fun workout) I have decided that this possibility is just not acceptable!

So here's the deal….a month ago I decided to meet up with a friend from the states in Athens and do a week long kayak trip thought the Greek Islands in July. Even though I had been working with a personal trainer and holding my own in the gym for the past couple months, I decided I needed to throw something new in the mix…and those of you that know me know that when I decide to do something…the small scale never seems to be my first option. So I thought to myself, I like the golf and tennis leagues that I was in when I lived back in the states, so there must be something I can get involved with here in London.

Golf was out since lugging the sticks through the tube on a weekly basis didn't sound like fun. Tennis was out since I tried in vain, but have yet to find any local leagues (surprising since I am 8 miles from the tennis capital of the world). So then I thought...as I was on the rowing machine in the gym one night…that I like the rowing machine - what about a rowing league?

Thus began my search for a rowing club. I mean honestly, this is England, weren't rowing and sculling created here? So I hopped on Goggle and found about 15 local rowing clubs.

Hmmm…which one to call first? Which one would be blessed with my amateur rowing prowess? How do I choose? Which clubs are close? Which clubs only require me to change tubes once to get there?

7 calls down the list and I was a bit frustrated, though. Apparently many of these clubs are not so welcoming of the beginner rowers…really, how is one to become a good rower if no one will teach them!?!?

5 more emails proved to the same result…well, 3 emails really since 2 of them never responded…and I finally found the Sons of the Thames Club. They are an old, but small club that 'welcomes new rowers'!! Plus - and bonus points here - they are as much a social club as a competitive club!!

These are my people!!! Social rowers!!

So I signed up and waited patiently for the first practice day…3 weeks away!!

This past week, I was like a kid waiting for Christmas! I was so excited!! What would it be like? Would there be nice people there? Would I make friends? Would the boat capsize? What would I wear? What do rowers wear? Would they look at me and think, 'Wow, look at her! She's a natural!! I thought an American wouldn't be able to row - but just look at her!! Do you think she would want to be the 4th for this weekends regatta?!?!'

Then the email came…

The email from Don, the organiser (no - not misspelled - they don't use z's over here like we do in the US) of the novice group, stated that there had been such an overwhelming response for this years spring session that they were going to make the 1st three practices would be land based - using the rowing machines to learn technique, learning the safety stuff….yada yada yada…. Then, there in black and white, 'after which time assessments will be made and some of the participants will be asked to continue with the training sessions for the team.'

WHAT!?!?

Now, I have come to love the way in which the English seem to add so many descriptive terms to a sentence that they turn the intended negative into an slight positive - just last night on the news a knife that was found at the scene of a fatal stabbing was described as 'a rather large and definitely effective instrument of death'…kudos to the knife for being effective…forget the pesky death reference.

But this was a bit much! Did he just say he was going to cut the dead weight? Slice off the fat? Only the strong will survive?!?!

Well, not me!! I, novice though I am, will not be cut!! And thus it was discovered…I am competitive!

Now I was worried…how many people had signed up - the nerve of them all! What skill level did they have? Where they really novices, or would I be up against a bunch of weekend rowers looking to join a club since all the other clubs turned them down!?!? Oh man!!! The pressure!!

Fast forward 3 days…4 sessions in the gym...25000 metres rowed on the ergo machine…3 miles run through the streets of Germany and London (I was in Germany on business when I got the bad news - thankfully I had thrown my sneakers in the bag!)…and Saturday was upon me!!

I awoke at 9am and immediately hopped on the net to figure out the best route to get to the club…tube or bus? Definitely the tube…which line? Hammersmith or District? Which station? When to leave? How much time to allow for? Any planned weekend work on the lines?

If Wheaties is the breakfast of champions…does that include rowing champions? Do they have Wheaties in the UK? OH NO!! No Wheaties at the grocer!!! What would the breakfast of a rower be?!?! This little wannabe rower ended up having some yogurt, a banana and a granola bar.

Now I have to pack a kit….what is a kit?!?! The email said bring a 'kit suitable for gym workouts' I assume 'kit' is the same as 'stuff' right? I did well on my SATs and I remember the context clue stuff in the comprehension section…I think a kit is the same as stuff…better Google it though…don’t want to be the only one that didn't know what a kit was…even though I probably am, but they don't need to know that! I mean, really, what would happen if I assumed kit was the same as stuff and then it turns out that kit means something totally different and I didn't know it, didn’t bring the right thing…and BAM! Off the team!!

Thanks Google - 'kit' is totally the same as 'stuff'!!

But I don't want to ride the tube the whole way there in my workout clothes…if we’re working out, then I'll be all sweaty, so I'll need to shower and change before I hop the tube home…better just throw everything in a rucksack (backpack) and be done with it!!

Time check…1pm..heading out the door!! On time as usual!! Need to be there by 2 and I should even be a little early.

Score!! The tube is on time!! Its like all the signs are pointing to a good practice!!

Changing lines…from the District line to the other District line…yeah - there are 2 district lines in London - one goes halfway around the city, then the other one branches off down to the south west of the city, but to get to the southwest one, you have to get off the other one…who plans this stuff?

Time check…1:25….two stops to go…I am golden!!!

1:35 and I am getting off at the tube stop!

Uh oh…which road is the one I need? I think its this way….

Hmm…this doesn't feel right….

Uh oh…time is ticking…oh! Let me ask this woman!

DANGER WILL ROBIN DANGER!!!

In London…NEVER, NEVER…did I say NEVER ask an older person for directions!!!

Old lady with the shopping bag on wheels proceeds to tell me which way to go….then another way to go…then something about a path and around a garden!?!

HUH??!? Something about Mr. Riley's house?

I GOTS TO GO!!!

I have basically gleaned that I was heading the wrong direction…all I needed to know lady!!!

Can't be rude, though…but time is ticking and I can't be late for the first practice!!!

She's saying something about a bakery with the 'loovly' muffins, not the one with that used to be a sad little tailor…her incredible powers of observation for routes does not carry over to observations of people…since she does not observe I am not paying attention!! I am on the balls of my feet, itching to run, like a kid who needs to go pee! I must end this madness!!!

'Ok, I think I have it now…around the path at Mr. Riley's garden, past the bakery, look for Ravencourt Rd. Thanks!!

This is all said with a wave and a slow trop off in the right direction.

Off subject a bit here, but it must be said, that at any time when you ask a proper englishman/woman for directions…you will get everything but!

'How do you get to Pith's Corner?'

'When do you need to get there?'

'Now'

'Now? Well, if you needed to get there now, I'd have left long before this! Yesterday, say! You could take the A4, but with this being the 3rd Tuesday of the 8th month, that means Mr. Hadley's taking the goats to market and you're be hard pressed if you get behind him. Now you could take the A12 to Suddlershire and then take the roundabout and that the shortcut past hedgerow on the old parson's green…not the one on the field to the left…..'

And so it goes for 30 minutes or so and by the end you could have 5 strangers or passersby involved in the task!

Anyway, so back on track to the club house!!

Time check 1:40…almost there, just 2 blocks to go!

Uh…what the?!?!

I have just walked down a seemingly quiet side street and come upon a 3 lane major highway…with a sidewalk!!! This should be an exit onto I95, not a side street!!! Are these city planners on crack?!!? I need to get across this highway to the rest of the quiet side street on the other side!!

Hmmm…there has to be an over or under pass!! 50/50 chance…which way do I go??

YEAH!!! 40 yards down, there is an underpass and I am back on track!

Is that the Thames?!? Yes!!! I am so close!!!

There it is!! Linden House!! That’s the club house!!!

1:45!! Take that old lady with the rolling shopping bag - there was no path, no garden and no bakery…and she made no mention of a major highway!

So I introduce myself to the first person I see and strike up a conversation. Turns out Sari is one of the coordinators of the novice team I ask her where the locker room is and she is headed that way as well!

The first person I see could have a say in the cut decisions…better make friends!!

Um…this is the most disgusting room I have ever been in! It has the feel of a mud room neglected! There are 'wellies' (barn boots) lining floor around the parameter of the space. There is a smell that suggests something might have died…awhile ago. Thankfully there is a walkway of wooden planks in front of the benches. I set my rucksack down and happen to brush against the wall…it was wet…like when you get out of the shower and you had it too hot so all the walls in the bathroom are sweating…it was like that, but I didn't see a shower stall, so I just tried not to think how the walls would be like that…didn't something like that happen in the Amityville Horror?

I hurry up and change…dancing on one foot the whole time so as not to actually touch the floor…or bench…or walls…or really anything at all in the room….but all the while trying to make pleasant conversation with Sari so I don't get cut!! Talk about grace under pressure!!!

Then the thought pops in my head…after 6 months or so of being a rower, will I not notice the sweaty walls? Do I want to become a person that doesn't notice sweaty walls?

Upstairs we head to the meeting room for the start of practice.

Oh my!! There are a lot of people here! Half of these better be the club members or I have serious competition!!

I feel like the Greek God in the corner might be too beautiful to row, and then there is the chick in the corner that looks like she is on something and maybe she is too jittery to keep the rhythm of the rowing? That kid in over there looks like he's 12!! Did his mother sign a release form for him?!?! No, you have to be 18 to join - the disclaimer said so! Those 2 over there have on white sweaters and white shorts…did they mean to go to cricket practice and get the wrong address?

Is it wrong for me to mentally check people off the list of possible team members? Oh well…to err is human to judge is divine…or something like that….doe sit matter?

Oh my!! Is this what its like to get mentally psyched for competition? I am so competitive now!! Who am I!?!?

So now the club President has started to speak and give some introductory comments and an overview of the club and the next few practices.

Then he gets into the schpeal about cuts again!!

Now we are getting broken up into three groups; 1 to go over the basics of rowing and look at the boats, 1 to go to the rowing machines and learn technique; 1 to go for a run.

WHAT?!!? A run!!! I hate to run!!! I am so not a runner!! I am so slow!! The stamina to run around all day deserted me about the same time I lost my baby teeth!! What does running have to do with rowing!?!? I am so cut now!!!

My first station is to go to the rowing machines…and contemplate the time until I have to run!

As it turns out, I am a bit of a natural with the rowing machine!! I had a few bad habits that seemed to fix themselves with a little coaching. Turns out that the reason I can row so much on the rowing machine on the gym is because I am not really doing it right… Also turns out that when you do it right - it is absolutely exhausting…but in a good way…so I still like rowing.

Hopefully this natural rowing talent will put me high on the 'lets not cut them' list and make up for the low scores I get in running!!

After about 20 minutes, we switch station and it is upon me…the running.

OK - I am mentally psyched for this…I can do this….how far are we going?

4k?!?! Quick math….10k is 6 miles…5k is 3 miles…2.5k is 1.5 miles…so we are going like 2/2.5 miles?

OK….this is doable…I can do 2 miles…but I run/walk it!!! I HATE RUNNING!!! I do it, but I hate it!!

Off we go!! I am all about the pace…slow and steady wins the race…that’s like a proven fact!! The front of the pack raced off like they were being chased by the hounds of hell!

I hope they burn out quick…showing off so they don't get cut….they'll burn out and I'll slowly run past them thanks to my slow and steady pace!!

Oh man…is that crazy lady with the short shorts and bum pack (fanny pack) running her perky self over my way?!!?

So is now talking to me…I think she expects an answer! Is she out of her mind? Can she not see I am trying to breathe enough that I don't pass out...I can not waste break on talking!!

Chatty Cathy…take it down a notch!! I am only catching about half of what she is saying and trying to be nice since I've learned in business that 'it's who you know, not what you can do sometimes' and I hope that applies to rowing teams, too!!

Be nice…talk…be nice….turning blue here….think we are about half way….this is usually when I switch to walking…be nice…she's saying something about her knees…thankfully there is one other person behind me!

Oh, did I mention one chic didn't even attempt to do the run!! One down!!

Ok - that has got to be at least a few k's….and I am walking now since my side is on fire!!!

Chatty Cathy is still chatting away…

Ok - turning around now!! Half way there!!!

There are now a couple people behind me!! I can't believe I am this competitive!!!

OK…almost back to the clubhouse…I think I want to hurl…that wouldn't look good though…

DONE!!! THANK YOU LORD for allowing me not to passout, have a heart attack or throw up and make a spectacle of myself!!!

On to the boat overview….yes, that’s the boat….stern…bow…oars…

Oh question in the back….hmmm…she barely speaks English…the instructor has had to ask her to repeat her question several times…you really ought to be able to speak the language to be on the team…I an not believe I am having these thoughts….but honestly, how would you understand the rest of the team?!?!

Oh, she is asking how to spell bow and stern? Interesting.

More info….another question…

'Will we get wet?' Is she for real!?!? She realized the boat comes off the trailer and goes in the water right? She is so cut….

'Um, well, the Thames is pretty contaminated, right?'

Instructor guy; "Yeah, but as long as you aren't drinking the water and bathing in it, you'll be fine." (said with a slight smile and a hint of sarcasm)

'Um, what if you have an open sore on your foot and you're in the water - could it get infected?'

Hold the breaks there Sore Sally!! What's the deal? This is not a hypothetical question I think…do you have a sore? Is it so progressed that you are worried of infection? This is specifically the reason that I hopped on one foot in that skeevy changing room - so I wouldn't catch anything!!! SHE BETTER GET CUT!!

Finally practice was over….yeah - not getting a shower here thank you very much…no chance of me running the risk of catching anything for Sore Sally in the changing room (aka disease breeding ground). I'll sweat my way home thank you very much…I'm sure the homeless smell worse than me on the tube, so whatever!

Most of us head up to the social room to hang out a bit…this is exactly what I was looking for! Hanging out with my mates after a hard rowing practice…taking about rowing things and such….

Yeah, I now totally see myself with this crowd...still not touching the sweaty walls in the changing room….but grabbing a pint and discussing the days evens nonetheless!

I did end up meeting a few people; Aaron the kid that I thought was about 12, but turns out he is early 20s and is an accountant; Nicola who has the same views of running and the changing room as myself; and Pierre (not actually Pierre, but I can't remember his name, and he's French, so it's Pierre until I learn differently) who is new to London as well.

So thus begins my illustrious rowing career….tomorrow night is practice number 2….we shall see how this goes…

Hopefully a few less people show and that means less to cut! Oh man…this competitive spirit is unreal!!

The taxi driver doesn't need any more friends...

Once again, I find myself spending some quality time in Berlin. Granted, I really do like this city - the limited parts that I've seen, but like many other places I have been, there is one commonality that will get you every time…the taxi ride.

I have found (the hard way) that unless you look like a local, act like a local and speak like a local…you are a taxi driver's dream. They assume you have no idea where you're going - hence the taxi; they assume that you won't know that they are driving you the long way there; finally, they assume that when they hear the American accent (yes, novel idea, but all Americans have an accent, not just the southerners and the Texans) that you have no idea what to tip them…so you will overtip…CHA CHING!!

To avoid any and all issues with taxis…follow 4 simple rules no matter where you are in the world:

1 - What happens in the taxi stays in the taxi…you will never see that driver again…and even if you do…he/she will not remember you…and even if they do…what do you care? Now the caveat here would be that I might divulge some experiences (mine and others) below, but I will change the names of those involved…unless its me, then, refer to the above…I don't care.

2 - The approach or hailing of the taxi is key - it sets the whole tone for the adventure. First and foremost, look like you don't need a ride. Don't be waving your hands and dancing in the street - the taxi will speed up and the driver will laugh as he flies past. The harder the rain, the more animated your gestures, the harder the taxi driver will laugh…just trust me on that one. A good head nod or slight wave will get the job done. The rationale, I believe, is is the more desperate you look, the more you will talk, and see below…this does not bode well for you. Approach the taxi like you aught to be driving it.

3 - Know where you're going, kind of how to get there and have someone tell you how to pronounce it BEFORE you get in the taxi. DO NOT assume that even if you are nice, they will be nice back and help you out. WRONG! Mispronunciation = 'Sweet!! A foreigner! She has no clue!! CHA CHING!!' Don't be that guy/gal! I was….my address is Norfolk Place. In the US, it would be pronounce Nor…folk…two distinct syllables…nor like nor'easter storm, and folk like folk art and folk dancing. In the UK it is pronounced norfk….one syllable…nor is more like the nor in north, almost no stress on any of the three letters - separately or together and with the f and the k, you just run them together so that they are almost one letter. It took me a good two weeks and quite a few extra pounds and dour looks to get it right. One driver made me repeat it like 5 times, pulled out his pocket map, made me spell it and then said, 'Oh!! Norfk, Luv, you need to learn to speak English!" I am not usually a violent woman…but lets just say my thoughts that ride were less than Christian. Basically - say it and mean it and they think you know it!

4 - Once you tell them where to go, NO MORE TALKING! Unless you actually know the area and/or the language fluently, then shut up. The more you talk, the farther out of the way they will drive because; A) now they know you have no clue and b) they know that if you're talking you're not paying attention to the route…or the metre. Its not like in the movies - the taxi driver is not your best friend. The taxi driver doesn't need anymore friends than the other fares he has picked up since the start of his shift that thought they were his new best friend. You and Mr. Taxi aren't going to swap recipes and grow old together and tell your friends that it all started when you got into soandso's taxi and hadn't a clue where to go for dinner. Its OK not to say anything…you're not on Taxicab Confession here…they don't care how your day was or that you couldn't find your keys this morning. They care about you only to the extent that you have enough local currency to pay the tab…and even when it turns out you have pounds, but not enough euro, you can totally talk your way out of it!

Oh wait, now you might be wondering how I learned this little tidbit, so I will give you a brief summary…since it was a brief encounter. The one and only time I have talked to the driver was the basis of one of the worst date (his word NOT mine) that I have ever been on. First, technically, it wasn't even a taxi driver, it was a limo driver. Secondly, he initiated the conversation - Not me! This may have been because curiosity got the better of him since I was the only one in the limo and I'm guessing he was wondering how a young thing like myself (27 at the time) would (or financially could) have a limo hired for herself…company dime thank you very much…but he didn't know that. The ride, or more aptly 129 minutes of sheer nauseating banter and pre-pubescent come on lines to the likes of which has been outlawed in some small countries was the most unsettling 129 minutes of my life. I believe he may have had the mistaken assumption that I cared about the fact that he had quit his most recent 'gig' as a cabbie due to some 'unforeseeable' differences of opinion with the boss and that now he was a 'freelance' driver for a few different rental outfits. Um, freelance driver? Yeah…can you say no one will hire me full time…He also thought that I seemed like the type of person that wanted to hear about his 'solid business plan' This was said about 4 octaves lower than his normal speaking voice, and I can not describe the look on his face or the twinkle in his eye that was reflected in the rearview mirror when he said this. Needless to say, to this day, I am unsettled in actual meetings where we review business plans thanks to that freak. Long story short, when the sweet sight of my car in the company parking lot came into view, and I was able to run (well, not so much run as walk briskly…like faster than a speed walker on caffeine pills) from the limo, he followed me with my bags and proclaimed (again on the Barry White but not quite voice) that he really loved talking to me and got a good vibe from me (huh? I was so agitated I thought I was shaking - he must have misread that, too). He thought that it was a great first date and wanted to know where I wanted him to take me for dinner on our second…now I do give him props for creativity, had he maybe been any other guy at any other time…and actually charming, I might have thought that was a good line….But he wasn't!! So when he asked for my number, I gave him the number for the outside line to our security office (I used to forget my badge a lot and had to call the security booth guys too many times to count).

I believe I may have gotten off track…but the point remains the same - do not speak to the driver…do not even speak when spoken to!

5 - Tipping…in the US, we are big tippers…bigger than anywhere else in the world I have been or have heard from other people that they have been. I know in the US we pay people something a kin to slave wages, so tips are basically the only money they make. But this is not true for Europe as a whole…some places its even a insult to overtip!! A good rule of thumb - anything under 10 pounds/euro, don't bother with any tip at all. Anything over that - maybe 10% if you feel like it. If not, then don't tip them. This does take a bit of getting used to….and yes, I did waste a lot of pounds the first few weeks I lived in London, but you get over it pretty quick! First, you go through denial - 'I can't believe you don't tip here at all!' Then there is a period of guilt - 'Oh man - I didn't tip him enough!!' Then there is anger, 'I can't believe I was over tipping those guys all this time!!' Then you sink into a wonderfully enlightening phase of, 'I love this place - there is no tipping basically!"

Always remember - when in doubt, don't worry about it - you'll never see them again!

The London Midway

This morning I awoke to yet another rainy London morning...hit snooze 4 times since I was so sore from my workout the day before...realized that I was out of cereal...this was only OK since I found the milk was past the expiry date...way past the date...and made my way to the bus stop while managing to only get moderately soaked. But for all this misery, I was rewarded...I managed to score my favorite seat on the bus!!

Now granted, only people that ride the bus on a daily basis can really understand the concept of the favorite seat...and even then, there are still those that can't truly appreciate the favorite seat. School buses don't have them - their seats are all the same. Greyhound buses don't have them since you all pay the same price and any seat that isn't by the bathroom is a good seat. Even most public transportation buses don't have them since they are, for the most part, a single story rectangle on wheels that was upholstered by someone that loved their valor leisure suit a bit too much.

So let me explain my favorite seat...first and foremost...you have to ride on the double-decker bus...no questions asked...trust me, the novelty never wears off. Secondly, you have to get the seats on the first row of the top level...even more importantly, you have to get the right side seat (hopefully no one sits next to you). How does this make it my favorite seat? Well, when you're on the top of the bus, a whole story above the milling masses that crowd the streets like like ants around picnic basket, its almost like the city is putting a show on for you...you just have to look to see the different acts.

This morning, though, I was struck by feeling of déjà vu. The point in time that I was taken back to was my days working at Cedar Point. Cedar Point, for those of you who might not know, is an amusement park located on Lake Erie in Ohio. Its the park where I worked (and lived) for 2 summers when I was a teenager.

How can you possibly compare London to an amusement park in Ohio you might ask...well let me tell just tell you...

Some mornings, before the park opened, when the dew was still on the ground and the pavement was still wet from being hosed down the night before, there would be these people just aimlessly wondering up and down the midway waiting for the rides and food stands to open. These people, mostly guests at the hotels in the park, would just be meandering around, alone in their little worlds and oblivious to the poor schleps...like myself...that were rushing around, getting ready for the day's work....preparing to make their day enjoyable.

This morning, as I sat in my favorite seat, I recognized that same dazed look among the tourists roaming Oxford St. I recognized the families with the matching bright yellow shirts...so no one gets lost!...and the kids happy to be on their own for a few minutes before they had to continue with the forced family fun. I recognized the others, like myself, just trying to get through the crowds in order to get to work. I saw the street vendors beginning to hawk their wares to the sleepy passersby.

I also saw...to my astonishment...that the reasons I loved those morning walks down the midway are the very same reasons that I love to watch this city from my favorite seat on the bus. Just like those sleepy mornings on the midway, I got the opportunity to peak at everyone one around me...their happy faces, their sad faces, snippets of their conversations, jokes and thoughts out loud. I get to see these things since to them, I am just the scenery in the play...an extra in their home movies. But to me...they are the free entertainment that gives me a chuckle, a smile, and a reminder that I am glad to be walking in my own shoes.

Dear Diary

Its funny how they say that if you don't understand the past, then you are doomed to repeat it. I thought I had a pretty good handle on my past though, and oddly, I am finding that I seem to be repeating it in many ways regardless.

Take dating for instance;

Then: I remember my first date - we'll leave him nameless to protect the innocent - we had to meet at a public place (the Guthrie theatre) since neither of us could drive (well, that and I think there is a slim chance I might have lied…I mean failed to mention...to my parents that I had a date).

Now: I find myself 17 years later still having to meet in a public place when meeting a boy for a date. Yes, they are still boys - that wasn't a slip - some things will never change - the license picture may look older, but the attitude sometimes isn't. Although, now its because I don't know if he's a psycho or not, but nonetheless, still meeting in public places only…and neither of us drives…granted, most people living in London don't drive, but again - same outcome.

Take fashion, too, I thought we were done with legwarmers, mini skirts, pony tails that stick straight out the side of the head, florescent jelly shoes and of course, mullets (well, they are still in style in remote parts of Oklahoma, Alaska and Alabama, but those people seem to pay attention more their Guns N' Ammo instead of Vogue, so we'll forgive them). But nowadays Diary, I walk down the streets here in London only to have my sense assailed by mullets, general craziness where hair is concerned, legwarmers in colors that make your eyes hurt, miniskirts so short I am amazed they aren't outlawed (though, if I had the body to pull that off, I might be a little less harsh with those chicks). Yesterday I saw a woman wearing a purple mini skirt, orange tights, and brown leather dress shoes…who are these people? Where do they find this stuff? Do they look in the mirror in the morning, wink at themselves and think they look FINE!?

There are also days here that I feel like a freshman again…and not in a good way. I remember the feeling of being a little fish in a big pond…all the little inside jokes and humor that went over my head…having to figure out my way around a place that seemed a bit too daunting to take some days…having to deal with the social politics that dominate all high schools. Here I find myself a little fish across the pond….sometimes I don't get the humor - it may be because its got crazy words mingled in the sentences that I don't understand yet, or maybe the accent is too strong, but the outcome is the same - I laugh a bit (only a bit, too much and they know you don't have a clue; no laugh at all and they know you don't have a clue). As for having to figure my way around a place that seems daunting - you try figuring out the bus routes on a colour coded map that only has 4 colours and 10 buses and (finding out the hard way) that the tube map is NOT an accurate representation of the layout of London - and then we'll talk! Oh, and Diary, I am also finding, not that these are new finding, but they are observations just the same - the politics that dominate the lives of hormone crazed teenagers are, at their very core, not so different from the politics that dominate money and power crazed adults.

Diary, I get it - I don't want to relive it, but does this vicious cycle ever end? Will I be in the retirement home lost in a maze of hallways, wearing clothes that people half my age would laugh (or blog) about and trying to figure out the drama that goes on with the night shift nurses who have mullets and wear legwarmers with their short uniforms…and all the while wondering where the public place was that I was supposed to meet that old guy…what was his name again?!!?