Old English Things

This is the latest in my blogging trend of putting it off until I'm about to do something else blog-worthy and can't put it off anymore.

Tomorrow, I'm off to Munich, Germany. It's the first of (hopefully) many trips to the continent, as Jane Austen would say, while I'm here. Though, I'm sure Jane Austen, and anyone else remotely cool, would prefer to go to Berlin. Because Berlin is way cooler. But I was outvoted. I'll still try and make it there, eventually, maybe even during this adventure. We'll see. In the meantime, I've almost read enough "Munich is the new Berlin!" articles off the New York Times travel website to convince me that I'll have a good time. Almost.

Anyway, I'll talk about that in my next post. I hope.

But last week, after I finished blogging about Oxford and the Tates, I woke up really early and walked with the girls from the dorm to the main building to wait uncomfortably with a bunch of other American girls (and two guys) to take a big tour bus to Stonehenge and then to Bath. Actually, the first stop was Egham, Surrey to pick up the snotty foreign kids from Royal Holloway University. Then we went to Stonehenge.

Our tour guide, Justin Something was pleasant enough. He didn't exactly seem to pick up on the clues indicating that he should shut up about the damned alien theory. We all know the truth. Also, he looked like a skinny, British Aaron Eckhart. I considered an affair with him, but I'd probably end up crying into a walkie-talkie in a room full of gas tanks. And then I'd blow up and he'd become a villain. Can't have that. Anyway, I had been to Stonehenge before, but it's always cool to see again. I particularly enjoyed taking in the social atmosphere of the site on this visit. People look kind of funny when they're awe-struck. Also, I made a fun game out of trying to get into the backgrounds of people's pictures without appearing too obvious. There are some French kids out there that are going to put me up on facebook, possibly as their profile picture. Look out!

Stonehenge itself was magical indeed. It is, after all, "one of the biggest henges in the world. No one's built a henge like that ever since. No one knows what the fuck a henge is." Oh, Eddie Izzard. He'll be back in a few sentences. As for my Stonehenge "theory," I mean, anyone who watches the History Channel now knows the truth of how it's a burial ground near a small village, but how did the rocks get there? I do like the alien theory, but I think they might have been too busy with the pyramids or Easter Island. I think I shall, like always, side with Eddie and believe that the Druids tricked the Welsh people to drag the rocks carved "out of the very living mountain" all the way to Salisbury. "Oh building a henge, are we? Oh, that's fantastic!" "You never said 200 miles! 200 miles in this day and age, I don't even know where I live now!"

"Anyway, before Stonehenge there was Woodhenge, and Strawhenge..."

Then we drove past a huge, white-chalk horse carved into a mountain, toward Bath. Now, I had also been to Bath before, but it was with Ms. Smith and the 10th grade exchange trip posse, so we went to the Roman baths and that was it. Most unsatisfying. Jane Austen didn't listen to audioguides! Though, I must concede that it was a nice touch to have Bill Bryson stops on the audio tour, where he would just rabbit on about how much he loves Bath. Bill Bryson is pretty cool. Apart from Bill's stops, though, the Roman Bathhouse did still manage to be awesome in its own, "Romans walked here" kind of way. I also like how it starts out in a Georgian building built around the Roman ruins, and as you go down, you go back...in history. I did almost trip a few times, though. Romans apparently don't make the best sidewalks.

The actual main pool bit, where the classy people used to hang out and splash around was in the center of it all, was a nice place to sit and read while waiting for your less-Bath-experienced chums to finish up their audio tour. It was also a great place to see American tourists make jerks of themselves. Justin Eckhart (as he shall henceforth be known) told us on the bus not to touch the water "under any circumstances," because apparently a few years ago, a girl got meningitis and died after taking a swim. But of course, one group of American boys stuck feet in, heedless of my (silent, but expressive) warning. Next time I go, I bet it will be roped off.

MFAs and I met up for lunch once they finished that infernal tour. I became overwhelmed at a baguette stand and blurted out "beef and horseradish!" so naturally, the horseradish was way too spicy (for me!) and I had to pick it apart. But whatever. We then wandered back to the alley to join Justin Eckhart for a walking tour of the city.

Justin proved a fairly capable tour guide, though showed little interest in talking to me, who had already given up on the affair (he'd probably make me start smoking), but seemed to like the busty German girls from Holloway. Most of his information was interesting, especially in regards to the early developments of Bath-as-social-capital, and we did hit all the important stops, including the place where Thomas Gainsborough lived, the famous Royal Crescent, the circus, and the place where Queen Anne (I think) had her kid. Or conceived her kid. Or something. Google results are inconclusive.

So, when we passed the Jane Austen museum, I had to duck in for a bit, if only too look at the ridiculously overpriced merchandise you can buy to declare to the world just how quickly you're going to become an old Spinster. I must admit, I really wanted a fan. And a correspondence kit. And one of the fancy pens that looks like a quill. And I did enjoy that they were playing what I sadly recognized as the soundtrack to the Colin Firth Pride and Prejudice miniseries (the first scene with Lady Catherine DeBourgh.)

I got a bit lost getting back to the bus, especially after the girls who also stayed back at the museum went the wrong way (I think I went the right way). I was all set to good-naturedly poke fun at ourselves for being sad, Austenphiles, but they didn't really seem to want to talk to me. And they spoke German. It was most depressing, as I heard, amidst the German, "Tobey Stephens in Jane Eyre," "Colin Firth," "Persuasion," and "Oh...Darcy!" We should have been chums!

Bath really is a beautiful place, so even if I didn't buy any of that ridiculousness, or listen at all the stops on the Bath's audio tour, or listen to everything Justin Eckhart said, it was still pretty amazing just to be there and soak up the scenery. Most of MFAs agreed that Bath is definitely on the live-list in England, probably around the settle-down-with-kids or retirement stage. Jane Austen died hereabouts, didn't she?

And I saw a poster for the Morris movie. I had forgotten about that. Heh. It looks very funny. (http://www.imdb.com/video/screenplay/vi3361669657/ and for good measure, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DiFq_nk8pE0)

Anyway, hopefully those two links will make up for the fact that I'm rushed and not really in the blogging mood, despite the need. Perhaps I'll edit this later, perhaps not, but hopefully, it's adequate and competent, just like Justin's tour! And not obnoxious like that girl behind me on the bus back to school.

Cockney slang I don't understand: Okay, well, I know this one (thanks to Justin Eckhart) but can you guess what a haha is?