Thursday, July 21, 2011

Beer Pilgrimage Leg One: Complete!

Last night, being our last night in the Stourport area, our hosts wanted to take us out for a nice meal. If you know anything about England and its history as a dyeing empire then you know they have marvelous Indian food. So even though my hosts are Persian, they asked if I liked Indian food, not really remembering that I lived in Chennai at least for a bit. After a few months away from India, I got over my aversion to Indian food. I think the 3x a day curry got to me after 6 months straight. Luckily, that has passed, and I'm more than happy to indulge in ethnic delights from all over the world. We drove nearly an hour to a very tiny town named Lye (honestly). It reminded me of Devon Avenue in Chicago. Everything on this one stretch of road was Indian, Pakistani, Bengali, and some restaurants were even BYOB. Apparently, we'd been directed to the best restaurant on the strip. Even at 9PM on a Wednesday, they were packed and a party of 6 had a long wait (over half an hour). So they told us (and I'm not even kidding) "There is a great pub just down the way." So we set off for predinner drinks. Upon seeing the cask ale selection (10) I got very excited, but more exciting was the Goose Island IPA bottle in the fridge! I lost it, I got so excited and started exclaiming how I could actually give a demonstration to my hosts about how hoppy american beer really is. To those of you who actually drink American beers, and IPAs in particular you might know that Goose Island wins a lot of awards as an "english style ipa." Anyway, before I got ahead of myself, I saw a selection of 10 cask ales. They were all from a brewery name Sadler's. On the left was a stout, and down the line, malty, malty, malty, malty, and blammo! Right in the middle, a beer called "Hop Bomb." I seriously lost it. I ordered that straight away, and then took care of ordering the rest of the drinks for my hosts. It was the holy grail of english beer for me. Hoppy like and american ipa, cask conditioned, and served cold. Cask ales here in england are served a lot colder than they are in the states. I understand why americans THINK that brits serve their beers warm and flat, but that's just a mistake in the way we serve them in the states. My beer was frothy and cold and full of hops on the tongue and nose. Stupendous! I freakin' loved it. I passed it around for all my hosts to smell, and they all agreed it smelled "lovely" and "like flowers." I took a brief moment (I tried to contain my excitement) and explained why, in fact, it did smell like flowers. Then I had to do it, I went and bought the Goose Island IPA in england. The bartender told me that it was her brother's and her favorite beer. I was absolutely chuffed to bits. I passed that one around as well, and everyone agreed again that it was a beautiful beer. Thank you Goose Island for making an "English style" beer that the brits understand.

So there you have it, leg one of beer pilgrimage complete! I found cold, hoppy, cask conditioned english ipa in england.

By the way, the Indian food was also excellent and Nasim managed to smuggle the bottle of IPA to the restaurant. Wouldn't you know it, India Pale Ale, pairs well with Indian food.

Malvern Hills

On our last day in Stourport-on-Severn our hosts asked whether we'd like to go see Birmingham or "hike" up Malvern Hills. My decision basically boiled down to the fact that I think of Birmingham, England like I think of Houston, Texas. They are both big cities with all the big city things, but nothing particularly special about either of them. Sure, Birmingham has shopping malls (no interest to me), sports teams, big confusing motorways, restaurants, pubs, theater, etc... But so too does Manchester, Newcastle, and every other big city in England. I voted for going to "hike." It should noted that our hosts commented on the fact that Malvern Hills are essentially that, hills. They are not really mountains and it only takes about an hour or so to climb up. There are, however, five peaks and so one could spend several hours bopping around from peak to peak catching some gorgeous views. It should also be noted, that this, being England, has a restaurant and pub at the top of the initial walkway just a few hundred feet from one of the summits. This place is called St. Anne's well. Supposedly it is holy, but I'm not sure to whom. It doesn't seem like a very Anglican thing to have holy water coming from a spring out of the side of a mountain, but it seems overtly catholic. Nonetheless, we got there about 4:30PM and the restaurant closes at 4PM, so we hiked onward and upward. Our views were damped significantly by clouds, but I repeat myself. This is, of course, England. Rain is expected everyday for the next 30 years until further notice. The weather forecast had said Wednesday was supposed to be sunny, but I knew better than to believe that. I take a much more Markovian view of the weather.

We started up one direction and some fellow "hikers" with guitars headed another direction. While we were taking a short break a discussion broke out as to how far Edinburgh, Scotland is from Birmingham, England. I guessed 200 miles, my host told me much further than that, probably 300 or 350. The "hikers" sitting near us ventured guesses each of 400 miles and 500 miles. Honestly people... The United Kingdom is not THAT big. I realized that I had completely underestimated the size of the UK. Much in the same way that many Europeans underestimate the size of the United States. Anyway, I looked it up and it's 246.02 miles give or take a few. Go figure, I was the winner (at least by price is right rules).

As we parted ways, one the hikers who'd been sitting next to us lit up a cigarette. I thought it was a bit odd, but after a moments whiff, I realized it wasn't tobacco, and things came much more into perspective. England seems to be much more relaxed about marijuana and much more uptight about driving.

We made it up to one peak and it was gorgeous. Forget the clouds, it really was a beautiful sight. We sat up at the top, had some snacks and it was actually cold at the top. The wind was relatively unobstructed and thus greatly affected the temperature gradient where we were. I can't name all the towns we saw from the top, but it reminded me once again of East Tennessee. There are certainly fewer hills here, but off in the distance you can make out a blue hue to the ground and rolling hills. I tried explaining briefly to my hosts what the blue ridge parkway is, but we were interrupted by some lamb and sheep in view on the next hill over. We finished our snacks and made our way over the the next hill to meet and greet (not meat) the animals only to find they were encapsulated by a very large electric fence (on which one should not whiz). Luckily, there is a gate with a posting saying, you are more than welcome to enter and hike up to the top, talk to the animals, etc. so long as you shut the gate behind you. We entered and attempted to pet the "cute little animals." They were having none of it. Every time any of us approached, they just scooted further along up the hill, leaving behind a patch of grass and another pile of lamb droppings. It was honestly like a mine field up there, but the consequences were much less severe. More like a shit storm. Anyway, after snapping a few record photos we were all cold and decided to head back down to the closest pub. Did I mention I love this country?

Heading down, was a lot more difficult than going up because of the stress on the knees. The views were still phenomenal, and coming down we were met by thousands upon thousands of ferns and bright purple flowers. Funny the only colors I can remember are green (really bright green), blue, brown, and purple. I suppose there were a few berry trees with a scant amount of red, but it was a somewhat unusual color combination, at least to my mind.

I'm glad we took the route of "hiking" rather than seeing Birmingham. I'm sure I'll make another trip back this way in the future, and hang out in Birmingham a bit more, but for now, I'm more pleased to have seen the scenery.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Stourport-on-Severn Part 2

I have been enjoying the scenery here in Stourport greatly. From my hosts' home looking out the back window I see some lovely rolling hills full of trees. Of course, it's cloudy and grey, but never mind that. It really reminds me of home with the exception of the clouds. I remember being in Ireland in 2001 and thinking the same thing. I guess the original european settlers who had come to east tennessee recognized the geography was similar and decided it felt "enough" like home and settled there. I also imagine they soon realized that the weather was drastically better and decided they had made a good decision. Since arriving in England, the weather forecast has included clouds and rain everyday of our visit. Today is supposed to be sunny, but of course, it's mostly cloudy. At least no rain as of yet. I understand now why English people travel by magical umbrellas (brumbershoots here). It appears the king's singers' anglican chant of the weather forecast is pretty much accurate.

England: Rain is expected everyday for the next 30 years until further notice.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Stourport-on-Severn Part 1

After a mostly restless night in the hotel with hilariously jet-lagged slumber we set off for Stourport-on-Severn. This is an area just southwest of Birmingham which is a short walk,train,train,train,walk,car ride away. In order to get here we walked about a mile to the nearest rail station. This was not the Underground, but part of the national railway service operating in the London suburbs. We took that to the underground, then the underground to London Euston station, then the national rail service to Birmingham New St. The whole ordeal didn't take that long, but it felt like a lot of effort and a lot of money to get to Birmingham. After that, we got a bit lost and couldn't get ahold of Nasim's aunt and cousin who were picking us up.

Another short drive and we had arrived. On the way we learned that Sunday night is the night to go out in Bewdley. Apparently Saturday night is only a suitable night to go out for the townies. Strangely enough, Monday night is also a night to go out. After going over an absurd amount of minor cultural differences and regional accents we arrived and had a bite to eat. I was hanging with Nasim's cousins who are 18 and 20 respectively, but are quite well known around Bewdley as it is a very small town. We showed up for SND (Sunday Night Drinks) at one bar and I found yet another wonderful selection of cask ales and asked the bar tender which was his favorite, to which he replied, "I don't know, I hate all ales." I felt punched in the gut a little. So I simply said, "give me this one, and went on my way." In the meantime I met another of the locals who told me he is heading to Columbus, Ohio. I asked him why he'd ever go there, and he told me for a job interview. Good Luck mate!

We decided to hit up another pub where there was pool. It was like miniature pool. The pool balls to so small, the bounced off the table half the time, so it made for some hilarious and awkward shots. After a few minutes (read, an hour or two), Karaoke started up! I haven't sung karaoke in a while, but at some point was told that I was required to sing. I asked if they had any Tommy Tutone, thinking it was a 50% chance that I'd be able to get out of it. Sadly, no. Within a matter of seconds the KJ had queued it up and I was handed a mic. Luckily for me, it's one of the few songs I actually know all the way through. I remembered something that my best friend had taught me at a house party several years back. When playing rock band or singing karaoke, YOU are the entertainment for that song. I had noticed some pretty good singers, so I decided I was going to be the entertainment instead of the words scrolling across the screen. So I did some crazy dancing (read, terribly bad dancing), air guitar solo, etc... Apparently I made a lot of friends last night! When I got set to leave, the bloke behind me insisted that I stay for another song. I noticed that all the singers were pretty good, but no one took it upon him/herself to dance. I don't quite understand why those willingly choose to participate in karaoke are unwilling to make themselves look like complete asses. Anyway, because of my apparent willingness to be publicly humiliated, I spared myself any criticism and made a few friends. Sadly though, when you make friends in Bewdley you are not immediately offered pints by new "friends." Last call, for alcohol, when left with a terrible ringing in our ears and I was stupid with exhaustion (having only slept 8 total hours in two nights). I crashed out and awoke with no glory, but no additional shame. All in all, a very successful first day in a little country town in England.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

First Pints in England

I had a few hours before needing to return to the airport to meet Nasim and so I decided it was about time for beer. The first bit of my beer pilgrimage is getting proper cask conditioned ales in the UK. The last time I was here was 2006 and had a relatively difficult time finding hand pulled ales. Luckily now, everything has changed. The Beer Renaissance in the United States has started affecting (or infecting) Europe! Wonderful news if you ask me! I decided upon traveling that I should try to go somewhere and see where it takes me. Where else? Warren St! I set out to take the tube that way. Fortunately or unfortunately depending on your stance, the tube was shut down on the picadilly line from Boston Manor all the way until Hammersmith. So there was bus service to Hammersmith or Ealing Broadway. I just followed the swaths of people heading in a single direction happily herded along like sheep. I ended up at Ealing Broadway, and just hopped on the nearest underground station toward Warren St. After another two hour trip (noticing a trend here) I got to Warren St. I felt at home (sort of). I saw that Warren St was quite short and had a pub. Sold! Moreoever, the pub had a sign for Cask Ales in the window. My beer pilgrimage had begun! So I sat, ate a bit, drank several pints of cask ale and chatted up a fellow from Quebec City who'd just bought a town house near Tampa. He discussed with me his observation about how stupid American Politics and politicians are.

Notice to Americans... Our healthcare system is horrible. Even with the reforms set in place, it still pretty much stinks. What I've learned is that many other developed countries pay more in taxes, but the citizens don't think of taxes the same way we do. They tend to believe in the fact that their taxes are investments in their country. In the end, that buys them, free education (and much cheaper through university level), good roads, and healthcare which is orders of magnitude cheaper.

Nonetheless, I shall not wax further on about the intricacies and faults of America. I love it, with all its faults.

I got set for my 2 hour commute back to Heathrow to pick up Nasim. Eventually got back, but later than anticipated. Then we set out for traditional British pub dinner. Had proper fish and chips, shepherd's pie (with LAMB, not beef) and more cask ales. Set off back for another trip back out southwest and eventually made it to the hotel. A lot of traveling and moving around for one day, but I learned a lot about the London underground.

Just across the border

After my slow process toward the UK border, I collected my luggage and set out to buy a SIM card and get some cash monies. I get to the SIM card vending machine and see a tall slim indian girl whom I recognize. I look at her for a moment, and she looks back. I, being completely exhausted from failure to sleep and over two hours of continual standing, I thought that I was just seeing things. So I simply asked, "Is your name Tanvi?" She said, "Are you Clark?" It turns out she was a student of mine 8 years ago at Northwestern during my first year of graduate school. I met her ma and pa, and discussed India for a few mintues. Found out they are going on a cruise of the Norwegian Fjords and made mention of a my beer pilgrimage and seeing a lady.

That was probably one of the most random traveling experiences I've had yet. In the end, we were both impressed with each other for remembering the other's name.

After a little confusion, I finally made my way to the hotel near the airport and checked in and took a nap. All you need to know about England, is that you should expect to spend a lot of money here if you expect to have any fun at all (said in england "a tall").

On the way to England.

Alright folks, it appears my blog is back up for a few weeks by popular demand. That means a lot to me, really!

I took a direct flight from Chicago to London which was mostly uneventful except that I was sitting near an irish girl who'd been staying in chicago for 7 weeks. Usually, as most Americans know, Chicago is a sort of second rate destination city for travelers, so I was extremely happy to hear she'd chosen to spend her summer there. In the end, she told me she'd spent her time in Lincoln Park (an area I essentially avoid) and told me she missed out on all the things that I actually like in Chicago, and only partook of the things which I mostly dislike. Oh well, at least we had a few europeans enjoying chicago, I guess I can't complain too much.

In the meantime I spent a great deal of time waxing on about the many ways english speakers from different cultures say things. It was interesting for me, and me next seat friend told me repeatedly, "you spend way too much time thinking about that." Although, I did manage to procure a lot of information from her about several things she found bizarre about the United States. Principally, and this is no surprise to anyone who likes going out for drinks, is that 21 is the legal drinking age. She highly disapproved of this. She also seemed to dislike the fact that we don't say "bin" for "trash can." You know, the bin, where you put the rubbish?

Once in Heathrow Airport, I stood in the longest customs line I've ever been in. It literally (pronounced here, litrally) took me 2 hours to get my passport stamped. And that's just to get into the UK, hell really just England. But, while waiting I got to do some interesting exhaustion based people watching. There were two groups that stood out. First, a man with three wives who had them all wearing niqab. I kept wanting to see what happened when they actually got to the immigration desk to see if they had to show their faces. I missed it, but later after baggage claim, the man looked fairly calm. I can't imagine anything particularly exciting happened. But, I'm always a bit amused when muslim women have to show their faces. It's well known that niqab is not required, I can't help being slightly amused at it's principal according to islam. Nonetheless, that was the less interesting group of people. There more interesting group of people was a group of young girls all wearing matching soccer shirts and their parents. Apparently they are San Antonio United and they were passing through the old country on the way to Sweden for the Gothia Cup which is the youth world cup in Sweden. 84 teams, all the players very, very young. I was taken aback a little. Anyway, I wish them luck. They're first game is monday, and I'll try to keep up with it and update you, dear readers, here from the blog (back by popular request).

Finally made it through, almost lost my luggage, because all our luggage had been unloaded and sorted, and placed in a neat pile. My luggage, however, is really small. I've packed EXTREMELY lightly for 6 weeks travel. In any case, I recovered it and got set to get to the hotel to take a nap after my one hour of sleep on the place with seats too small for me to properly sit in.