I went to Whitstable this weekend, which is the nearest beach to Canterbury. It's about a 15 to 20 minute bus ride directly from campus. It's a stony sort of beach, and when we went on Sunday, it was pretty crowded. There are lots of cool shops and stuff around it. I still haven't been to Dover yet. I heard recently that it wasn't worth the 2 hour bus ride, and I should go to Whitstable instead (which I did). I'm not sure if the bus ride is really two hours, in fact I can't imagine that it really is, but I think I'd enjoy Dover regardless. Theo's friend Jack said yesterday that Canterbury has the highest ratio of pubs per square mile than any other city in England. I don't know if that's true either, but it certainly gives an approximation of (my perceived) priority of interest for most students here.

Yesterday I went the climbing club's trip to a climbing wall at a independently owned sports center outside Canterbury. They have these older guys come and teach the novices (like myself) who they refer to as "old gits." I learned how to do two simple knots, and basic climbing technique (which I sort of remembered from climbing a long time ago) like how to descend and belay. I bouldered a bit more too, and my wrists and fingers still hurt from that a little. Tonight is the next trampoline society.

Last night I went to the Film Society social and met some folks that are knowledgeable about films (and are happy to prove it). It was pretty cool, and I met lot's of folks that were on the administrative council of directors for the various internal programs (big lense film magazine, production department, screening department). The words I used may have made it sound like more complex of a society than it actually is.

There's talk of a trip to London this weekend, and a week from this Friday I'm planning on going on a mountaineering trip. Two weeks from today I will be in Paris with Monica. I can't wait!

The coming Saturday and Monday evenings should provide good opportunities for observing the International Space Station from the North Island of New Zealand - weather permitting.

See also:
Heavens Above
Real Time Satellite Tracking

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My internal time/date clock is really messed up because it feels a little bit like yesterday was a dream.  It wasn't, of course; I spent the day out in Kent with Sam W.  However, we left for the station really early in the morning when it was still dark out, and came back at night after the sun went down, so it sort of felt like a perpetual state of 5:30am on Edgware Road.  Weird!  But I did, in fact, have a totally lovely (and exhausting day) in Canterbury and Dover.  We took a coach from Victoria to Canterbury that took maybe the least efficient way out of London ever- got a pretty thorough tour of Lambeth, Elephant and Castle, Lewisham etc... now I can say I've seen southeast London and never need to go back.  Sam (who is from Silver Spring) and I agreed that southeast London looks a lot like southeast DC and therefore we had no desire to see it outside of the bus.  Anyway! We got to Canterbury around 9am, and it was EMPTY.  The first two things that struck us were 1) we could still be in London, with all the familiar chain stores here (EAT, Boots, Gap, Woolworths) and 2) where IS everyone??

The Cathedral tour wasn't until 10:30, so we had a while to wander around the town.  Downtown is compact (no cars allowed) and completely adorable.  It's the English village we've been longing to see since we first encountered Edgware Road in all its neon glory.  A brand new shopping area stood right next to warped medieval buildings, on a square containing small carnival rides for children and the tower from the old church where Christopher Marlowe was baptised.  It was small enough to be able to walk around for about an hour (within the boundaries of the old medieval wall) and get a good sense of the place.  We had tea and teacakes at a great little cafe called Boho.  It was one of the only places open that early.

Then we made our way to the cathedral and got our tickets for the tour.  You can see the Cathedral from pretty much anywhere in the town by just looking up; it's the only tall building to speak of for miles.  It really is a lovely place.  Because so many pilgrims started going there after the martyrdom of Thomas Becket in 1170, they've always had money coming in to keep the cathedral in good condition.  Walking from one end of the cathedral to the other is a literal walk through history: from the 1400 year old foundations of the Saxon-era church, to the 1000 year old crypt, to the 12th century Benedictine monastery, 15th century nave, 16th century bell tower, Victorian-era replacement windows...it's quite interesting to track the changing architectural styles.

They have some of the oldest surviving stained glass in England, dating back to the 12th century, which avoided being smashed by the Puritans during the Civil War because it was too high up for them to reach.  I found it strange that the big draw for pilgrims, the grave of St Thomas Becket, is actually empty.  Henry VIII had his bones burnt and remains destroyed because of the whole splitting-from-the-Pope thing.  Oh, Henry...  Well anyway, the spot where they had his tomb is marked by a candle now.  They have a lot of other famous graves, though- Edward the Black Prince and Henry IV are probably the biggest names.  I think I got a lot more out of the tour than I normally would have, since it was just me, Sam, and one old woman with one tour guide.  Definitely got my £8 worth of the cathedral.

When we left the cathedral grounds around noon, the empty market square where we had been that morning was totally transformed.  I hesitate to say it was crowded, because I felt nowhere near as smushed as I do on the Bakerloo line during rush hour, or even on Oxford Street on any given weekday, but there were a lot of people around.  Turns out that night was the start of the week-long Canterbury Festival.  If we had been able to stay a few hours later, we could have gotten some fantastic dinner deals and seen a huge choir perform in the Cathedral, but as it was, it was just fun to be out in the town.  We went back to the now standing-room-only Boho Cafe to grab the magnificent cupcakes we'd had our eyes on earlier, and just strolled around doing some window-shopping.  I was surprised at how un-touristy the town felt.  Of course, it is a big tourist attraction, but my ridiculously touristy frames of reference (Bath and central London) made it seem tame in comparison.  The most obnoxious thing we passed was the Canterbury Tales puppet show theatre, and that didn't look very busy at all.  The touristy things seemed to be contained in isolated shops that most people didn't pay much attention to as they strolled by with their families eating street food and doing some Saturday shopping.  It was actually hard to come by a good (and by good I mean tacky) Canterbury Tales postcard.  Don't worry, I did manage to find an absolutely hideous one at said puppet show's gift shop.

After some hot Cornish pasties (sounds gross, tastes delicious) for lunch, it was time for Dover.  The express train turned out to be only 40p more expensive and about half an hour faster than the bus, so we navigated our way to the Canterbury train station and hopped on.  It didn't give us as much of a scenic view of the countryside as I would have liked, because the train tracks have big mounds of earth on either side to make them less of an eyesore.  The brief glimpses we got were quite pretty, though- Kent is lovely country.  In a mere 15 minutes we were at the Dover station.  The first thing I heard was the sound of seagulls, which was so invigorating.  If I couldn't be at Rehoboth Beach this weekend, at least I got to see the shore.  The map I had of Dover was a bit confusing, but luckily a GIANT CASTLE on a GIANT HILL is kind of hard to miss.  The town of Dover itself wasn't much to speak of, but the views of the castle as we walked toward it were fabulous.  I had heard people take taxis from the train station to the castle, but it's only a mile away, so I thought, how lazy can you get? We'll just walk.  It only took us about 20 minutes, but it was indeed 20 minutes straight uphill.  I was fine (thank you Tufts University) but I can see why older people wouldn't want to walk.

Basically, we never stopped walking up all day- first to get to the castle, then up to the lookout points, then up to the fortification walls, and finally we went so far up (to the top of the castle keep) that there was nowhere higher for us to go.  It was pretty sweet.  Dover Castle was definitely worth the price of admission, but mostly not because of the castle itself.  The site is also home to a 4-mile tunnel complex dug into the sides of the chalk cliffs, first started during the Napoleonic Wars, and then extended and refurbished as a naval headquarters in WWII.  SO COOL.  We were really nervous at first that we wouldn't get to see them: you can only go in with a guide, and it had been such a crowded day that all the afternoon tours were booked up, which they told us at the entrance gate.  We decided to go over anyway and see what we could do, and I'm SO glad we did.  We hung around the reception desk until one of the tours had a few no-shows, and thereby finagled our way into the tunnels.  Hooray!  The tour covered a mere 1/4 mile of the tunnels, and it was pretty crazy.  They had a whole underground hospital there, mostly used for routine procedures like dental work, but occasionally used for emergency surgeries for pilots shot down over the Channel.  It never occurred to me before that Dover was pretty much the front line for England in WWII, since France is only 21 miles away- on a clear day you're supposed to be able to see France from the cliffs, but yesterday the water was covered with thick fog.  From these tunnels, Vice Admiral Ramsay and his crew orchestrated the entire evacuation from Dunkirk in 1940 (yeah I was thinking about Atonement the whole day).  It's pretty incredible to think of such a massive evacuation being run from those dim, claustrophobic spaces underground.  Also, they've restored the space brilliantly- actual period telephone equipment, and the original map table used to chart ships and planes going between Dover and France.  It's really good that we got to go in, because we would definitely have been missing out otherwise.

After the tour, we had about an hour before closing, which was an appropriate amount of time to see the medieval castle stuff.  We pretty much had the place to ourselves, aside from a few families still straggling around the grounds.  We walked over the gorgeous green grounds, up on the fortification walls for some great views, and poked around the castle keep, which was actually creepier than the tunnels in its vast emptiness.  We made it all the way to the top of the keep before heading alllll the way back down the hill.  Tufts has prepared me well for hill-walking, but I'm clearly out of form in flat London- my thighs were aching from the combination of walking up and down all day.  Sam and I were both exhausted, so the hour we had to kill before our coach back to London was spent just sitting on a bench in a park.  Like I said before, Dover the town was rather uninteresting.  The only intriguing aspect was people-watching and observing smaller-town English life.  The Saturday nightlife for all the 14-year-olds of Dover was clearly just warming up at 6pm... you know, hordes of middle schoolers in the phase where the boys are a foot shorter than the girls, watching older kids at the skate park, awkwardly talking in groups, sneaking cigarettes outside the Somerfield...pretty classy place.  The coach ride back was uneventful, except for my internal clock getting really messed up by falling asleep before the sun set, and waking up when it was pitch black out.  When we passed back through Canterbury, there were fireworks going off for the festival.  Even though it was only 10pm, it felt like 5am again when we got back to the flats, and I stayed up for a while in a confused, exhausted-but-not-tired state before finally drifting off to sleep.

On a divergent note (and this is news to no one) the British have such a bizarre sense of humor.  The more I see of it, the more it baffles me.  Sam and I stayed in Friday night and watched a bunch of comedy shows on one of the approximately 1500 BBC channels.  Half of what was going on, I didn't understand in the slightest, and the other half was hilarious mostly because it was so ridiculous.  Mostly I don't understand Alan Carr.  We watched Celebrity Ding Dong (crazy) and a standup act of his (crazier), and I came to accept that he's about as relevant to me as Joel McHale (The Soup) might be to a British person.  I can't remember the name of the first sketch comedy show, but about every other skit was fall-off-the-couch-laughing hilarious, which is a better funny:not funny ratio than SNL has had in the past few years (Sarah Palin sketches excluded). One skit was called The Great Northerner Show or something like that- even though I'm not British, I could tell it was wildly offensive. Basically the premise was that posh owners were "showing" people from the north of the country like one might show dogs at a Kennel Club show.  Like I said, wildly offensive, but wildly funny.  They seem to be a lot less concerned with "political correctness" over here.  My best guess is that people from London think of northerners like people from New York think of southerners.  Next up was Little Britain, which I'd heard about on BBC America but never actually seen.  Some very funny things, but a lot of nonsensical things.  Very similar to some of the odd knicknacks Sam and I saw in Canterbury: a calendar with pictures of a cat pouring tea that said "she's very houseproud!" (???) on the front, and then a book called "Cats and Cathedrals" which was literally just pictures of cats alongside pictures of catherals.  I mean, I love cats....but....it was a little strange- and hilarious, even though it clearly wasn't meant to be funny.  Oh and then we walked past the town's Marlowe Theatre, and there was a van parked out front advertising a musical version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, with pictures of all seven real-life dwarfs plastered across it.  I'll grant that America has a lot of weird stuff going on, too, but really...Britain is just baffling.

Sigh.....still haven't done my two midterm papers that are due this week.  They're not very long (1000-1200 words, aka shorter than half of this post), I just don't want to write them.  I've spent too long writing this already, so to conclude I'll be brief.  This week I am...
missing: American television, having an actual desk/workspace in my apartment, the beach house, MoCo, 3Ps, my roommate
hating: the damn Circle line and its delays/closures that are out to ruin my life, rising airfare prices
loving: London (obviously), Flat 22 (as usual), National Express coaches, writing postcards, Whole Foods, and SEEING OEDIPUS TOMORROW AT THE OLIVIER STARRING RALPH FIENNES eeee.  Oh! and I forgot to mention the London Philarmonic concert I went to Wednesday:

It was totally great.  I called up and got £4 student seats for me, Ashley, Chris, and Sam.  The seats were fantastic- we figured that everyone around us had paid upwards of £45, and we could see and hear everything.  The conductor was adorable and the pianist for the second piece, Mendelssohn's Piano Concerto 2, was sooo intense and so good.  The first piece was a Schubert that really showed off the violins- probably one of the best string sections I've heard.  Such a solid, rich sound.  The last piece was the best, though- Dvorak's Symphony 9 (From the New World).  I downloaded it as soon as I got home, but it really can't compare to hearing it live.  What a great sound.

Also, on Friday, Johanna and I (later joined by Katie Weiller) spent the whole day in the British Library "doing work."  The work part didn't turn out so great, but it was a good trip anyway.  Mostly because it led to what is clearly the most important picture from my semester abroad so far...

Stopping in at King's Cross before going into the library = probably the most productive part of the day.

Ok now I'm really done....bye! 60 of the 120 pictures I took yesterday are here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2033511&l=73268&id=1230930052

See Big Truck at Staines

Oct 12 2008      8:00P Staines Hobgoblin £3 entry

BIG TRUCK

BIG TRUCK are a young West London-based rock band. They have been established for just over a year now, having played almost 50 shows in and around the London area. In this time BIG TRUCK have not only recorded their debut album ‘One Long Saturday Night’ but also played a sold-out show at Camden’s Purple Turtle to celebrate its first press. Since then BIG TRUCK have been well received on many independant radio stations in the UK including Total Rock, Inferno and Brit FM to name a few. This was followed by a recent brief tour of Canada and airplay on UPV Radio 102.5 FM in Spain, proving that BIG TRUCK have both UK and international appeal.

BIG TRUCK are a four-piece line up with soaring guitars, driving bass, solid drums and choruses that have you singing along before you even know the words. They hail their influences from a variety of contemporary and classic bands - Foo Fighters, The Who, Muse and Jimi Hendrix to name but a few. The debut album ‘One Long Saturday Night’ is available for sale, along with some very stylish merchandise, through their website as well as at live shows. When asked for a quote about the band, producer and Nick Olivieri’s Mondo Generator guitarist Simon ‘Spud’ Beggs simply stated "BIG TRUCK rock!" No words have ever been more truly spoken. BIG TRUCK are now back in London promoting their album.

Their debut album OUT NOW! (www.bigtruckmusic.co.uk)

Vaughan Pryce-Jenkins // Vocals, Guitar
Jimmy "Fingers" Dockerill // Guitars, Vocals
Mark Kozlowski // Bass
James "Hands" Betchley // Drums

http://www.myspace.com/bigtruckmusic

2.

Catch some New  Acoustic Folk - Staines

Oct 9 2008      8:00P The Hobgoblin (Staines) Entry £3

Afterspark's members Cate, Adam, Ed and Jude accidentally wrote some songs together at the start of 2006 and since then have played on radio shows and at gigs and festivals across the country.

The band plays a dynamic mixture of soaring vocals, foot stomping rhythms and subtle textures that range from the tiny sublime to the beautifully unflinching. They have an album 'Sometimes We Forget', self-recorded and self-funded, which you
can hear on the left, and they also have an EP 'A Simple Life', both of which are available from afterspark.co.uk

http://www.myspace.com/afterspark

3.

Great Works of Bach on Cello  at Walton

Wednesday 8th October 12.15pm Lunch, 1.10pm Concert  Riverhouse Barn

Suites Nos 1 and 4 for solo Cello, J.S. BACH

A welcome return to Canadian Paul Marleyn on a visit from Ottawa where he is professor of cello at the University. This concert is an opportunity to hear two of the greatest works for cello played by a fine musician.

-  full price £13.00
-  without lunch £9.00

riverhouse boxoffice
Manor Road
Walton-on-Thames
Surrey KT12 2PF

01932 253354 (24 hrs)

4.

Rock with Enjoy Destroy - at Windsor Firestation

Oct 9 2008      7:00P ENJOY DESTROY w/ CANTERBURY     Firestation Windsor

Basingstoke/Guildford Rock/Alt band

If you like Biffy Clyro or Foo Fighters you will love this up and coming local band. See them this week at Windsor's new Arts Venue, The Firestation

Link:

http://www.myspace.com/enjoydestroy

5.

Rock and Punk at Windsor Old Ticket Hall

Oct 8 2008      9:00P supports ALASKA & at Old Ticket Hall     WINDSOR

Scars & Sirens

Comprised of four talented musicians from Reading/Windsor, Joseph Spencer - Vocals/Rhythm Guitar; Lloyd Henning - Lead Guitar/Backing Vocals Matthew T.D. Rees - Bass/Backing Vocals ; Charlie Brown - Drums the hard-dedicated Sirens are
compelled to make their mark on the rock scene.

Once known as ‘The Otherside‘, the string-slingers prepare to take on their much anticipated challenge of producing the most powerful Rock tracks of the era. It's here show how passionate we really are about our music...

Links:

http://www.myspace.com/scarsandsirens

http://www.myspace.com/theoldtickethall

Get Your Tickets for Beck Theatre, Hayes

The Beck Theatre
Grange Road
Hayes
Middlesex
UB3 2UE

-Visit AdPontes-Staines Regularly for Staines Arts-

I once swore to myself that I'd never write a blog, but here I am setting one up.

So, a little about me then. I'm Simon, and I present Canterbury's only truly local breakfast show every weekday morning between six and nine on CSR 97.4. We pride ourselves on playing the biggest tunes in Canterbury, along with a liberal smattering of local news fresher than the orange juice on your table, humour sharper than your grapefruit and the best traffic and travel information in the town. And, by the way, that doesn't just mean we tell you if there's a traffic jam on the Tourtel Road -- we also cover public transport -- trains, ferries and Eurostar, so no matter where you're heading off to, we've got your back.

I'll be keeping this blog up to date at least once -- perhaps twice -- every day, so keep checking back. Don't forget, you can get in touch with the show by e-mail via the website - at www.csrfm.com - and on the phone at 01227 82 3294. And if you're outside Canterbury, you can listen across the world through this link as well.

Not far from the centre of Margate, it was in an area devoted to cheerful and brash entertainment. It lay near to the sea, yet was sheltered from the breeze by other buildings and, when the sun came out, felt very pleasant indeed. I bought an ice cream from a kiosk - not that I was hungry, far from it, but it was part of seaside tradition - and licking it happily, meandered amongst the stalls.

I threw hoops over ducks, balls at coconuts, and darts at cards, but, all the while, a strange form of magnetism dragged me across the site to the big wheel. You couldn't miss it. It dwarfed the rest of Dreamland. A notice at its foot claimed it was the biggest of its kind in Europe. Looking up, I could believe it. I rushed to join the end of the queue.

Popping noises came from the left. I looked round and saw a rifle range not far from the big wheel. Crowds milled around the stall, but I noticed two people in particular there, probably because both wore ten-gallon hats. One was a fat man who leaned on the counter to aim an unsteady air rifle at a target. Beside him, chewing gum continuously, lounged a thin man. So, the Lucky Strike Gang was in town. Slowly and carefully, I turned away from them, slid out of the queue and strolled to the exit. Outside dreamland, on Marine Terrace, I casually looked back, but could see no cowboys following. Nevertheless, it seemed advisable to get out of Margate for the rest of the day.

I hurried to the car park and took my map out of the Corsa's glove compartment. A route out of town via a maze of back roads appeared to be just what was wanted. I dropped the map onto the passenger seat and drove up the High Street. Right at the cross-roads, under the railway bridge, and on and on. Soon Dreamland, with the pestilential Lucky Strike Gang, were left far behind, but I carried on until I was out among the cabbage fields of Kent, at which point I wound down the Corsa's window, took my foot off the accelerator, and inhaled what was unmistakably country air.

At a roundabout, two million miles from nowhere, I turned left. Oh, the view! Ahead lay a sunlit bay, white cliffs, rocks, and a sandy shore. The road swooped down to the edge of the sea and followed the coast. It was as I was passing a Viking longship in a field - no, I don't know what it was doing there either - that I happened to glance in the driving mirror and noticed a black 3-series BMW following. It wasn't close enough to distinguish the occupants, though I could see there were two of them, but I was suspicious, associating such a car with the Watts Road Mob. Determined to shake them off, I put my foot down and shot along the road to the next roundabout.

Here, some of the traffic ahead turned left and trickled into Sandwich, but I chose the road which went right and led to Canterbury. I had no intention of becoming trapped in some isolated region of Kent. The BMW took the same turning. Now I was compelled to slow down as I had arrived at the end of a long line of traffic. Thus, in convoy, we all continued to yet another roundabout where, once more, both the BMW and I opted for the route to Canterbury.
We drove on for another twelve miles or so, cruising along a road so straight that it could only have been built by the Romans. Two signs appeared. One welcomed us to Canterbury, the other warned of an imminent double bend. I floored the accelerator and screamed through the bends. While the BMW was still out of sight, I shot down the first turning on the left and roared through a council estate, until trapped in a cul-de-sac. Here I waited, wondering whether the BMW would appear, and what would happen if it did. But it didn't, so, greatly relieved, I locked up the car and headed into town.

Though it was only the beginning of June the streets of Canterbury were packed to bursting by hordes of tourists. I didn't mind. Less conspicuous in a crowd, I allowed them to pick me up and carry me wherever they willed. It was as we were passing the bus station that I saw Bartholomew's. It was just what I was looking for, one of that increasingly endangered species, the old-fashioned department store. Fighting my way out of the rampaging herd, I fell through their revolving door. Inside, it was exactly as you'd expect: cool, calm and composed. I looked at my watch. One o'clock. It was time for lunch. A series of signs led me to their self-service restaurant on the top floor. I grabbed a filthy tray and joined the queue.

'Yes, please?' demanded a muscular woman.

'What do you recommend?' I asked.

'Shepherd's pie,' she said, slopping a squishy pile onto a plate and shoving it into my hand.

I carried the mess to a table and considered it from every angle. What we detectives must endure in the interests of justice ....

To take my mind off the meal, I surveyed the current situation. One, two, or possibly three gangs were trailing me and if I wanted to avoid them - which I did - I would need to undergo a complete change of identity. Fortunately, Bartholomew's was the right place for it and when the lunch, such as it was, had been digested, I slipped out of the restaurant and went down the stairs to the menswear department to begin the transformation.

Money was not a problem, according to the daughter of Camargue Kitchens' boss, and this knowledge made me positively reckless with Holly's capital. In search of a replacement for my pink shirt and beige trousers, I went to the opposite extreme and purchased a dark blue shirt and black trousers. Charging them to the company's credit card, I changed in the fitting room and put my old clothes in the new carrier bag. Then I took the lift to the ground floor and bought a pair of sunglasses so dark that I had to feel my way out of Bartholomew's. The process had begun, but there was still much to do. I battled my way through a stream of humanity to a hairdresser's across the square.

'Cut short and dyed blond, please,' I said to the pierced and tattooed assistant.

She laughed.

'On the run, are we?'

'How did you guess?'

'It happens all the time,' she said.

The result was remarkable, but I wouldn't recommend the service to a friend. To an enemy, maybe. Back outside, in bright daylight, I paused in front of a travel agent's window and considered the transformation from all angles. Well, if I couldn't recognise myself, neither should my pursuers. All that was needed now was a change of wheels. After a considerable search, I found Marlowe Motors on the ring road, a garage which hired out Fords. Gritting my teeth and hoping Holly meant what she'd said, I hired a Mondeo for the remainder of the week.

Now disguised down to every detail, I returned to Margate by a circuitous route which brought me into Canterbury Road a little before six. There were several vacant spaces in front of The Golden Ladder, but I took the precaution of parking round the corner in Hartsdown Road and waiting until the street was completely clear of people. Only then did I leave the car. As I locked the door, two youths dressed in blue jeans and grey hooded tops ran round from the main road. When they saw me, they stopped.

'Excuse me,' said the first boy, 'what do you make the time?'

I looked down at my wrist.

'It's five -'

His fist smashed into my face. I fell back. My head hit the pavement and the sunglasses flew off. A hand grabbed my wrist and started to remove my watch. I pulled my arm away.

'Don't move,' snarled the youth, 'and you won't get hurt no more!'

I lay still. Blood ran from my nose into my mouth. More hands rifled through my pockets.

'Look,' said a second voice. 'There's his sunglasses.'

'Right!'

There was the sound of stamping and crunching, then hysterical laughter and running footsteps which disappeared into the distance.

Unfortunately I missed the park where I was able to get on to the cycleway and wound up going through the streets of Ashfield, Campsie and Canterbury, until I found a point were I was able to join the cycleway. When I got back I wound up going to Tempe Velodromefor the spin session with Dulwich Hill Bicycle Club - my club. I rode to the velodrome only to have the chain snap at Tempe station. I lost half the removable link.  I searched desperately but could not find it.

I met another guy on his way to the velodrome who suggested I continue on to the velodrome where someone would be able to help me. I went to the velodromeand caught up with Lindsay Munks who sorted out the chain issue. He had the tools and was able to get the chain linked together. It was strongly recommended that I see the guys at Ashfield Cycles and find out what went wrong. It was also recommended that I get a new chain as the chain was too tight.

On Friday I rang the guys at Ashfield Cycles and was told that they did not remove the chain for the service. I get the feeling that things were not going to get any easier despite the dead chain. On Saturday I got up and prepared for Slowies only to find that the rain was going to put the kybosh on the event.

I went out to Coles in Monterey for a Birthday present for a friend of mine and a carton of UHT Skim milk. I took the fearless gear-less to see how it would handle the path. There has been some changes but the fearless gear-less handled everything quite well. I got the milk but did not get the present as it was not in stock. As I went back to Tempe my rear tyre blew out. I cursed and swore and got the bike to a shelter used for picnics. I took the rear wheel off using a spanner from my multitool. I found that the tyre was worn out at the side rim, with the tyre coming away from the bead. I replaced the tube with a thorn proof tube. I intended to get back to Tempe pushing the bike but wound up riding it.  Towards the end the issues with the tyre became problematic. I copped the fishtailing as I turned and wound up slowing down. I got the bike in and changed the tyre. I will now be running WTB slicks from the Iguana.

I will write back with details of how the Fearless Gearless preforms with Slicks.

The other issue was major. On Sunday I was still in Sydney for some overtime. I decided to go to Waterfall with DHBC and had prepared myself for the event. It would have been my first Waterfall and I got myself down to Mick Mazza cycles at 06:30 after getting a new chain from Mick I headed off. The drive train seized up with on the way which was the reason for the new chain. After the Club President gave his speech outlining the risks of cycling and stressing that we accepted the risks if we rode with the club that morning, we headed off. We headed down Warren Rd and went through to Gannon Street. We got on to the highway and went past a RBT station and were going down Marsh Street when the rear derailleur came off.

Geoff said it was the end of my ride and I concurred with him. I walked the bike back to Tempe and met a guy who left the peleton due to concerns about rain. He said that the bike may be dead because the hanger is bent and may be elongated as the derailleur bolt has been sheared off. However he reckoned it would be repairable. I got the bike back and put it into the car for the trip to Bike Minded in Wentworth Falls. I took the Green Trek out for a ride. Woolys Wheels was open but it is booked out till the 18th. I dropped into the Addison St Markets at Marrickville after checking out Cell bikes and Stanmore Cycles (both closed due to the long weekend). After the week end I went back to Lithgow.

This morning I took the Red Hybrid to Bike Minded in Wentworth Falls. They reckon it may be dead but it will be wait and see. They will try to get the bolt out and then straighten the drop out. If all is well there will be a new derailleur and everything realigned. If not I may either make the Red Hybrid a single speed or take it and stip it for parts to be put onto a frame either from Europa Cycles or Peter Bundy in Riverwood. In short it was not a good week. God has had an ear bashing from me and I am not a happy boy. But there is always next time. I will also be willing to get out and give everything a go when the Red Hybrid - or it's replacement is ready to roll.

3 Upper Bridge Street

Canterbury CT1 2NA

We were asked to deliver a finger buffet to a client in Canterbury early Saturday evening so took the opportunity to grab a bite to eat on the way home.  Yoshi was our restaurant of choice.  Being under the same ownership as the Shangri-la in Whitstable and Thais R Us Oriental Supermarket in Canterbury (both of which we frequent), we were expecting good things.  We weren’t disappointed.

The restaurant, although a stone’s throw from Fenwicks & Next in central Canterbury, isn’t situated in the most picturesque location.  Its doors open onto the busy ring road, right next to the rather shabby-looking Odeon Cinema.  That’s all left behind when you enter, though, as they’ve created a cool, oriental decor complete with indoor fountain and sushi belt.  It’s a fairly small restaurant and you have the choice of sitting on bar stools by the sushi conveyor belt or at a regular table.  We opted for the visual delight of the ever-moving sushi platters.

The menu is made up of mainly Japanese offerings with a few Thai specialities for good measure.  We selected a handful of Sushi dishes as a starter.  I’m no sushi expert but I thought it was all as it should be: sticky rice, the freshest fish and the expected accompaniments of wasabi, pickled radish & soy sauce.  We particularly enjoyed the eel which had been marinated in some sort of soy or teriyaki sauce – absolutely delicious.  We also ordered a platter of Thai appetisers which consisted of Coconut Crab Cakes, Spring rolls & prawn toasts – all freshly cooked and scrummy in the way deep-fried food is when properly prepared and cooked – and a very juicy sticky chicken skewer.

To follow I had Duck Soba – a bowl of noodle soup with crispy duck.  The combination of tasty duck, meaty soup and thick noodles was a winner.  John opted for Nobe seafood soup which was very zingy and full of fresh lime flavour.

We paid £33 for 5 sushi dishes, the thai appetizers, 2 bowls of noodle soup and 2 beers which was very good value in our opinion and definitely worth a visit.

Tijdens ons Engels tweedaagse doorheen het graafschap Kent moesten we natuurlijk overnachten. Engeland associeer ik met bed & breakfasts, niet met onpersoonlijke standaardhotels (hoewel luxueus). Maar waar starten?

Ik startte bij de toerismesite van Canterbury maar bekte via Booking.com. Nu hoe moest ik kiezen. Ik kende niets van de plaatselijke aardrijkskunde, ik wist niet of wandelafstand een rol zou spelen. Dus koos ik op basis van comfort (toch wel), prijs (uiteraard toch ook) en romantiek. Jaja, wat melig, maar whatever. Had ik al verteld dat A. niet op de hoogte was van onze bestemming? Ik wilde hem verrassen en dat lukt niet met een Novotel of Hilton.

Mijn keuze viel snel op de Woolpack Inn in Chilham. Deze herberg bestaat al enkele eeuwen maar had vooral een kamer met hemelbed vrij. Ik heb altijd al in een hemelbed willen slapen.

Voor £99 kregen we een enorme kamer met hemelbed, tv en badkamer met ligbad! Zálig. Lekker persoonlijk. De uitbaters zijn charmant en de omgeving is pittoresk. Chilham is een rustig gehucht met zijn oude kerk, Chilham Castle, zijn marktplein en zijn B&B. Niet veel meer dan dat. Oh ja, een souvenirwinkel is er ook.

Kentish dish

Ik had geen restaurant gereserveerd. Omdat het hotel zo gezellig was, besloten we er te eten. Bovendien zag ik niet helemaal zitten om in het pikdonkere platteland links te rijden… na enkele glaasjes. Bovendien heeft de Woolpack Inn een aantrekkelijke kaart. A. koos voor gerookte zalm als voorgerecht, lamslever met bacon als hoofdgerecht en crumble als dessert. Hij was in de wolken. Ik koos de makreelpaté, de Ketish meat & ale pie soort stoofvlees in een vide en limoentaart als zoetigheid. Even lekker, al was mijn meat pie wat eentonig. Soit. Engels eten kan, ondanks de reputatie, van hoog niveau zijn. Bovendien was de bediening erg vriendelijk.

Als we dan toch kritisch zijn, merkten we op dat de verwarming niet opstond (brrr) en het is toch wennen dat buiten België en de lege borden zo snel weg moeten.

Dyouspknglsh?

Na het eten dronken we nog een Engels biertje (geen succes) en wilden we socializen met de klanten van de aanpalende pub. Helaas, hun Engels was geen BBC English en we verstonden er niets van.

Hoe dan ook, de Woolpack Inn verzorgde een zeer aangename avond en nacht. Een aanrader als je de regio verblijft.

The Woolpack Inn, Chilham
Nr. Canterbury, Kent, CT4 8DL
England, Great Britain

Benjamin

I'm hoping to apply for the Web Computing course, if I surive UCAS. The university looks great, lots of greenery, it's close to the centre, good bus service and the staff in the faculty all look really switched on and actually interested by what they teach, (which in most cases in my education career, makes a change).

In other news I cut my own hair, saving a few bob on the hair dresser but it came at a price of guilt and because she comes around to cut everyone elses hair (excluding my sister) it can't be avoided.

Voluntary Mother Earth's latest CD "Unacceptable Vegetable" was recently reviewed in Tarkus Magazine (issue #46) in Norway. If you understand Nowegian, check out their website and order a copy today to see what they have to say about our music.

Also the same album had been reviewed in iO Pages Magazine (issue # 81) in Netherland. Speak Dutch? Check out their website and get a copy today.

Voluntary Mother Earth TOURS 2009
We're currently planning a US tour for March 2009, and an European tour for May 2009, as well as applying to various festivals for the next summer.

-VME's "YOU CAN BOOK US TOO" Policy-
If you live in a musical community, no matter how small and no matter where it's located on the planet Earth, and would like to see us live, AND if you are part of your local scene, or know the clubs/bars/bands in that scene, YOU can book us too.

Interested? Send me an email at voluntarymotherearth ( at ) gmail.com for details.

Other than that, we've started rehearsing new songs which we hope to record and present to you next year.

Hope to see you on our next tour!

-Aki
Voluntary Mother Earth
-a Japan's premier absurdist rock combo

Op zoek naar een plekje om een leuk en gezellig weekendje met mijn significant other door te brengen, kwam ik terecht in Canterbury. Buiten Londen ken(de) ik Engeland niet, ik heb altijd al eens links willen rijden en ik vind het een originele en exotische bestemming. Dat links rijden, betalen met ponden, een andere taal dan gewoonlijk. Kortom, Canterbury belichaamde alles wat ik verlangende: niet te ver weg (3 à 4 uur rijden), anders dan anders, gezellig, niet te groot.

Canterbury ligt in het graafschap Kent, dat grenst aan Frankrijk. Het Kanaal vormt al geen hindernis meer. Ondanks de brand enkele weken terug blijft de Channel Tunnel / Tunnel sous la Manche de snelste en goedkoopste manier om er te geraken. Tenminste, als slimme reisuren kiest. Wij vertrokken zaterdagochtend om 10 uur in Calais om 40 minuten later maar 20 minuten vroeger in Folkestone bovengronds te komen. Leven het uurverschil! Vanuit Folkestone ben je in nog geen uur in Canterbury.

Gentlemen drivers

Laat ik eerst even wat vertellen over rijden in het Verenigd Koninkrijk. Je rijdt er links, iets wat in de die regio vaak wordt herhaald. Links rijden is leuk, het komt zelfs logischer over. Dé uitdaging op Britse wegen zijn rotondes. Om de vijf voeten kom je een roundabout tegen. Wanneer je de rotonde oprijdt moet je links afslaan maar rechts pinken zolang je ronddraait. Pas wanneer je eraf wil, pink je links. Even wennen maar logisch.

De wegmarkeringen en verkeersborden krijgen veel uitleg, zodat je je gemakkelijk kan oriënteren. Ook zijn de verkeerslichten een zegen. Het licht springt eerst op oranje en dan op groen. Dat maakt het verkeer vlotter. Bij ons zie je chauffeurs pas bij het groen beseffen dat ze moeten ontkoppelen, hun eerste versnelling moeten inschakelen en dan vertrekken.

Toch moet je in Engeland goed geconcentreerd blijven. Het is niet altijd even duidelijk op welk type weg je je bevindt en dus hoe snel je mag rijden. Bovendien staat alles in mijlen (per uur). Ook zijn er in landelijke gebieden tal van blinde bochten. Ons stuur staat immers aan de verkeerde kant. Gelukkig had ik een copiloot mee.

Maar het meest aangename in het Brits verkeer? De anderen. Alvast de Kentenaars zijn echte gentlemen drivers. Ze zien een buitenlandse nummerplaat en blijven geduldig. Iets wat je in België, Nederland of Frankrijk niet kan zeggen!

Canterbury Tales

In Canterbury zoeken we een parking. Vergeet een plek vinden op straat, die zijn altijd wel voor iemand (klant, buurtbewoner) gereserveerd. Gelukkig is Canterbury slechts een scheet groot en doen we alles te voet.

Voor meer informatie over Canterbury verwijs ik je naar Wikipedia en Google. Wij bezochten er de kathedraal (hoofdkerk van de Church of England) en wandelden rond in de stad. De stad is toeristisch en door het uitermate mooie nazomerweer was er veel volk, maar het was ook niet over de koppen lopen.

Op de terugweg naar de wagen botsten we tegen de plaatselijke versie van Antwerpen Proeft, de Canterbury Eurofair in Dane John Garden. We hadden kazen en bieren willen meebrengen, maar zonder koelbox was dat onbegonnen werk. Het viel ons op hoe veel belang ze hechten aan het feit dat de producten uit de streek of tenminste het VK komen, en aan het fair trade-aspect.

Trainingpak

Wat ons enorm hard opviel is de kledingkeuze van de locals. Terwijl het fenomeen hier veelal beperkt blijft tot enkele specifieke bevolkingsgroepen of liefhebbers, draagt 'iedereen' ginds een trainingbroek van Adidas. Gecombineerd met een witte t-shirt of een voetbalshirt. En ik die dacht dat Britten zich klassevol kleden. Ook de wildgroei aan tatoeages en piercings is er niet te overzien, ook bij jonge tieners. Ik wilde exotisme, ik ben op mijn weken bediend!

Na een ruime halve dag kuieren in Canterbury is het tijd om onze slaapplaats te zoeken. Die ligt in Chilham, maar dat is voor een volgende keer.

Benjamin

Ok, let’s take it from the start, cause I didn’t have the opportunity tell you how I got here. On the 17th of September I left Romania (with my face all swollen from crying at the airport with Chris), was my first time flying and I found it amazing. The sadness had gone once I was in the air, with my face stuck to the plane’s window. I had 3 hours to realise that the step that I made like 10 month ago, when I applied for university abroad, was starting to affect my whole life. I wanted to scream, cause I knew what was left behind, actually whenever I think I feel like screaming.

I got to see when the planed crossed from Belgium, over the English channel, to England. I saw how Thames was making it’s way into the British Isles. I will never forget that feeling when I first saw English land. The trip from London to Canterbury confirmed me the pictures I had in my head about Britain’s lands. All so clean, all green, beautiful scenery once we entered Kent County, and the roads, oh the roads…, if the drivers in Romania could see them, like 4 lanes on each side, no jams, no anything. Just smooth and relaxing, right-side :D, driving.

I got to Canterbury, and went to the hall that I was going to live in. When I first saw my room I couldn’t believe my eyes, it was just as I dreamt it’s going to be. The girl who helped me carry my bags left and I was alone in the room. Then it struck me. I was alone. And it felt like something was holding me from breathing, it was a horrible feeling. I started to unpack as quickly as I could, trying to get out from the suitcase all those things that connected me to my home. And the room came to life one step at a time. I then met up with Georgiana, my friend, who was already there for 2 weeks, and we went shopping for all the things I needed, got a first glimpse of the city. That night I slept at her place because I just couldn’t stay alone in my room.

This was the start of my journey. I wanted to share this with you because it had a great impact on me.

Canterbury is a beautiful beautiful city, with old Tudor houses but also nice new ones, but still in the same style, There are flowers and grass wherever you look. I once told Cristina, my other friend who is here with me, that you can’t find in Canters one single spot of soil that is empty, with no flowers or fresh grass planted on it. All the buildings seem to match, the old buildings, like churches or schools, are all covered with the same sort of stones. So is the city wall and bridges. The stones are black and look like they are freshly cut, really shiny, and they get different shadings depending on the light. In the night time they work as a camouflage.

The University campus is a pleasure to all my senses :P. It’s like a flower blossom, birds are singing, young people everywhere, the air is fresh :D. Everyone from the Uni staff have been so nice with us, making sure that we have all things working well and that we cope with the changes that are taking place in our lives.

There is a strong relation here with God. Maybe because is the town where the Cathedral and the Archbishop is. There are a wide range of churches from which to choose, so that no one gets left behind. I joined the Christian Union from the Uni and I must say that they are fantastic people, guys you can really look up to when it comes to their faith and their devotion to God. I fell great in their presence and I am sure that my stay here will be a lot easier with them around.

I really miss my family and Chris. I try not to think so much but at night, when I am alone in my room I can’t help from going back to Romania in my mind and my dreams.

There are many things to say but I will try to end this first ‘’story ‘’ from Canterbury. Oh, I forgot to say that it’s hell without a camera here. I just go crazy when I can’t freeze all the beautiful things that I see. I used the camera from my mobile :P to catch something, they’re awful, I know, but don’t have an alternative. See you!

At the University, view to Ramsey Building, The Business School, where I have my lectures

A window from Canterbury Hospital, which was use for pilgrims to take shelter on their trips

Stour River passing through the center of the city, there's a boat trip organised on it as well

Busy high street, St. George's Street, great architecture, huh?

Other than that, I've been trying to come to terms with not being around anyone who has known me deeply or personally. And, I've been trying to put some artificial distance between Sagan and I, because of some anxiety and judgement in our friendship. This translates to a lot more time alone for awhile until I get more involved in societies and sports around campus. Unfortunately, over the last two days I've been feeling sick and this hasn't helped matters much. Regardless, I've been really enjoying hanging out with a Nile and Theo, who both seem to have some of the same subtle core values as I do, and talking to Monica approximately two (smile filled) times a week. I definitely miss her the most.

The modules are slightly different here. We have a normal core reading list, but they provide you with approximately fifty books that students should read if they want to feel accomplished. I think generally you're expected to read about 5 or so from the list minimum (per module of course), but I'm not entirely sure. Regardless, it's a lot of reading--which I'm fine with. I think also there may be something culturally different about raising your hand. At some point I was warned that this suggests the need to use the toilet--though, this may have been applied to lectures and not seminars (discussions). I should probably figure that out. Also, here's another Stage 2 observation: the film department is totally un-accessible. I've tried to go there and contact them regularly. They take a long time to reply, and the office door is always locked even at expectantly busy times (3PM). They also have limited access to video production equipment. They aren't open minded about letting international students get into the facilities when they aren't registered for a corresponding module.This may mean a forced hiatus of production work for awhile, unless I start using my digital camera, which is a huge possibility. Or, I may find a way in with my charm.

What happened to my music production hobby? It's still in the works, I've been working on a dubstep influenced remix of "Reckoner" (as per the Radiohead contest) and "Gagging Order" over the last week, but I'm trying to take my time. Tonight is the first meeting of space society and tomorrow is trampoline society, I'm super hyped.