For the past two weeks I’ve been travelling again for work. Back to Warsaw first, and this time joined by Bex who very graciously endured my abridged, second-hand re-enactment of an Old Town walking tour. It was also great to see Mark and Caroline again, and along with a couple of others we visited what I can only assume is one of the city’s premier gambling establishments. Alas it still failed to arouse my interest in actually gambling (no surprise there) and so instead I amused the Italians by ordering tea (with milk) at the bar. I was desperate.
Bex, Sara, Rossella and me
Caroline, Mark and Rossella in a Warsaw casino
After a couple of hours wandering around Brussels on a layover, my next stop was Morocco. Having been advised that Marrakesh would be a more interesting place to spend a weekend than Casablanca, I started there.
Inside the Majorelle Garden
I was excited – this was actually my first visit to any African country whatsoever, let alone Morocco – and spent Sunday exploring the city. (Yes, I know I’m wearing a super-touristy hat: it’s only because I needed to get some change for entry into the Saadian Tombs.) The central square, Jemaa el-Fnaa, is breathtaking and the souks alongside are fun to explore, just as long as you watch out for the motorbikes which some people see fit to ride through the packed, narrow paths.
I’m also very glad I visited the Majorelle Garden – it’s a small, enclosed space but is astonishingly colourful and peaceful inside. The perfect calming antidote to a bustling market, and the last thing I saw before catching my train to Casablanca. (A three hour ride, in wonderful old-fashioned compartment style for about $14. The rest of the world should take note.) I’m pretty sure the two Spanish men to my right were complaining about the English, though.
Jemaa el-Fnaa
In the souk
Looking out over lunch
Catching the train to Casablanca
I should mention that Morocco is very much an Arabic and French speaking country, and the limitations of my English-only tongue were particularly evident in the taxi journey from Casablanca’s main railway station to my hotel. I was somewhat confused when another passenger joined us – this turns out to be a normal and, I guess, somewhat economic quirk of their taxi system – and then the driver grew increasingly impatient with my inability to answer any of his questions. Thankfully, the atmosphere lightened when he stopped the car in order to hide away some cash in a secret cubby hole hidden in the middle of the steering wheel, and we both started laughing together. You don’t really need to share a language to bond. A shared love of the absurd will do.
With Francisco
I didn’t get a chance for much touristy stuff in Casablanca, although I was well taken care of by Francisco and Jessica while I was there, and enjoyed hanging out with other visitors from the French office. We did make it to the world’s third-largest mosque one night, right by the sea, which was beautiful.
The Atomium at night
But soon it was time to go home, and fortunately this time the mysterious gods of yield-management airline pricing granted me an overnight stay in Brussels. So as a lovely bonus to the whole trip, my parents popped in by train so we could have dinner together and see the city sights by night.
So now, in terms of tourist sightseeing, I can tick off the Grand Place, the Mannequin-Pis (or the “peeing boy statue” as everyone actually says) and the Atomium. We worried the latter would be a wasted cab ride – with nothing to see in the dark – but were pleased to discover that at night it lights up and sparkles more than a Twilight vampire.
Oh, and in the midst of all of this, I also scored theatre tickets to Harry Potter and the Cursed Child from an intense online booking queue. But that is a story for next year…
Dinner in Brussels
At the Manneken-Pis
Before I write my fun ‘I’ve been travelling!’ post, I need to catch up on some Chicago things:
Learning science
Supporting Todd support the Blue Jays
Puzzling
Jatherine 1, Jatherine 2
(Clockwise: the Adler Planetarium’s ‘After Dark’ night – the same formula as London’s Science Museum, which is ‘add alcohol, remove children’ – had some cool shows and a decent lecture on dark energy. We all supported Todd through some tormenting Blue Jays games. Belatedly celebrating Catherine and Jason’s engagement – HURRAY! – with specialist wine glasses. And going, on Karl’s invitation, to the Puzzled Pint: an evening of trying to crack fiendish clues in morse code and so on.)
Also, two more shows: Home Before Dark – our pick from Common Room this month – a story of adolescent sexual exploration and abuse, and a technical rehearsal of the excellent The Play About My Dad, telling stories from Hurricane Katrina through the meta lens of a doctor in Mississippi and his playwriting daughter. This is still running until the end of November, and it’s well worth seeing.
(Tangent: I’d love to claim that endlessly blogging about plays in Chicago has now paid off into backstage invitations, but actually this came courtesy of director Marti Lyons, connected to Randi through work and coincidentally also the person behind probably our favourite play to date, Bethany, last year.)
It’s a lazy Saturday morning: drinking tea, lounging around in TARDIS pyjama bottoms (courtesy Randi) and trying to empathise with Todd’s baseball doldrums. So it’s a good time to go through my blogging backlog – which will sorta be like finding last month’s copy of Time Out down the back of the sofa with the pages all stuck together, or ‘a list of things which it’s too late to go and see’. Internet gold.
- The last ever performance of long-form comedy improv team 3033 at the iO, with Ellen and Kannan. We actually turned up for the penultimate show, but enjoyed it so much that we stayed for the later one too.
- Another famous iO show, TJ and Dave, with Karol. This is actually something you could still go and see! It’s also a pleasantly subtle and understated take on improv comedy, with carefully-observed characters rather than going surreal and wacky.
- But you can’t go and see Cholesterock: Dark Side of the Spoon, because we were at their closing night too. A shame, because this musical history of rock ‘n’ roll and fast food was perfect for a fun Friday night. Special thanks to Chrissy for our comp tickets, and for making us feel cool when picking up comp tickets.
- We also saw The Martian with Nolan and Siri, in the third of a trilogy of high-quality sci-fi movies which Nolan has enticed me to go see. This one has a simple feel-good premise, but it’s well done and enjoyable to watch.
Great socks
In addition, I’ve ticked off a few more Chicago landmarks: the smells and tastes from Garrett Popcorn during a day out with Randi’s young cousins, a brief trip to the Art Institute during mentoring, and finally making it down to the University of Chicago campus in Hyde Park. This last adventure was – weirdly enough – prompted by Alastair Campbell’s book tour, and we spent an evening at the Institute of Politics watching him in conversation with David Axelrod. Both men, it must be admitted, come fresh from Ed Miliband’s complete and unabridged defeat – and the subsequent Corbyn explosion – so it felt an odd moment to talk about Winners. Still, it was good to see him again, and be among the niche type of crowd who can appreciate a good Peter Mandelson impression.
We found a bridge
One sitcom which is never getting picked up
As much as I’d like to deny I’m in my mid-twenties – I was perfectly comfortable with 17, and see no compelling reason why that needed to change – one sure sign that I’m wrong is the up-tick in wedding invitations. And it softens the blow, since weddings are fun: especially when it’s two people as great as Shelby and Benno. (Shelbenno? Shelbo? There’s no settled consensus.) Special thanks to Todd and Carolyn for driving us to Grand Rapids and back last weekend! And also to Studio 6.23, whose photo I have nicked above 🙂
Randi’s parents have been visiting Chicago this week, which gave us another opportunity to see Improv Shakespeare. This time, approximately seventeen million below-the-legal-drinking-age University of Chicago freshers also turned up, which probably explains the introspective title It’s Lit. Still great, though. This weekend we also took the architecture boat tour, which was surprisingly good (considering how many other tours I’ve had by this point) and benefited from a great and enthusiastic tour guide.
On the river
Disclaimer: the following paragraph will contain mild allusions to Doctor Who spoilers.
Entirely uncoincidently, her parents’ night to themselves at Second City coincided with the start of the new series of Doctor Who. I love this show. All the hard work converting Randi into a fan has now paid off, and we were both totally captured from that moment in the pre-credits sequence (which I had no idea was coming). And Capaldi has warmed up a little, too… I expect he’ll really hit his stride this year, and it is going to be so awesome.
Durham loses marks for ditching the National Rail symbol
For the second week of our trip, we embarked on Dom’s Complete Railway Tour of the UK (Abridged) using our magical BritRail passes, which grant non-residents an unlimited ride on trains across the country. It does feel like a scheme set up in the glory days of British Rail and then buried under a carpet, as the passes you get haven’t been updated in almost 20 years, but weirdly the merest glimpse of one is enough for a ticket inspector to decide not to bother investigating any further. And so, thus armed, we set off for our first destination. (It’s worth noting that our B&B in Bury St Edmunds was several centuries older than the country I’m writing this from.)
I’m starting to doubt the town is making much progress on the Abbey
Randi and Kuzco
Most photos of us in Cambridge feature rain and ponchos
Our next stop was a rather wet and windy Cambridge: partly for the history, partly so I could pop into the bookshop. After a day of sightseeing and sheltering, we were joined in The Eagle by Mandler and Calaresu – two of my supervisors from uni – who were kind enough to make time for a drink and some catching up. This also proved to be Randi’s opportunity to try fish pie, which she took up with relish.
(Deviation: I do wish ordering at the bar was more of a thing in the US.)
EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED at Caius. No, wait. Nothing has changed.
“Our sprinkles are different to your sprinkles”
Heading up north, we impulsively changed trains for Scarborough – which I’ve never been to before – and spent an afternoon at the seaside. There’s not a huge amount to write about Scarborough – and at one point I may have been over-ambitious in my expectations of the cliff lift “tramway” – but it was very nice to stroll along the beach and see the castle from a distance.
Who needs California?
ConSoc would be proud
Our best B&B was in Durham, because we were hosted by none other than Katie “I live here” Self! The three of us had a great time together touring the city, while also finding time to stuff ourselves with a pretty representative sample of my British food longings: Indian curries, English breakfasts, jacket potatoes and lots and lots of biscuits. It’s not about food being fancy, guys, it’s just about food being great.
Everything looked particularly beautiful here
For comparison, here we are in 2010
Talking of great: bowing to Randi’s repeated requests to see Edinburgh, we headed there next and were equally blown away by how beautiful the city is. Along with the castle, I ticked off a couple of things I didn’t manage last time, including a fantastic walking tour and a hike up Arthur’s Seat.
And of course, I checked back in with my old friend David Hume.
Seems like only one of us is getting older
Pretty stunning
At the summit
Finally, we headed to Windermere in the Lake District, which was a perfect place to walk and relax at the end of the holiday. There were sheep. There were cows. There was a bus which cost £4.20 per-person. Most importantly, though, there were stars at night – and it’s been a while since I’ve been in proper darkness, able to lie down and look up at the milky way.
Sheeeeeep!
Contemplating (mostly about how expensive buses were)
So, that’s it: a condensed account of a whistlestop tour, which hopefully did a good job at selling the country to an American. The tourist board can thank me later.
Beth E . Dubowe-Lawrence on China, Part 3: Chongqing & Chengdu: “Again an awesome adventure to share this with you” Apr 21, 19:13
