Summer Begins

Ello mates, after going to Beltane I realized it’s a story that isn’t quite long enough to make a proper blog post. However, since I mentioned that I was going to write about it at least twice, I decided to give a short summery of what I did that day.

Tuesday April 30 2013

It was an unusual day because I had an extraordinary amount on my plate. My essay for Professor Mooney (Gerry) was done, but I still had a short essay for Professor Simpson, some last minute prep work for my trip back to Orkney, and loads of research to do for my history independent study. I suppose the most unusual part of the day was the fact that I actually got just about everything done that I had planned. However, when I got up that morning, the Beltane Fire Festival felt like a perk that I simply didn’t have time for.

Since it was a Tuesday, I didn’t have class so I decided to skip lunch and spend the early afternoon in Edinburgh. I wanted to check out a few more books on Neolithic Orkney. However, the Scottish section of the library was closed for renovation. It wouldn’t be open again until after I was back in the States. That wouldn’t help me, so I went across the road to the Scottish National Library. Now this is a proper research library. I had to fill out a mountain of paperwork, and get a photo ID before I got in. You have to request your books, and they bring them to a collection desk. Once you request a book, it takes about two hours to get it. So that left me with a hefty amount of time to wander about Edinburgh. I didn’t mind this though, because I had a few errands to run, I was hungry for lunch, and generally speaking it was a beautiful day.

I returned to the National Library and picked up the books that had been dropped off at the reception in my absence. I took these into the reading room. They were brilliant books that fit exactly what I needed. The only problem was I could only read them in the reading room. I couldn’t take them with me to Orkney and read them on my travels. I simply didn’t have time to sit and read them that day. I’d have to wait until next week.

I returned home and prepared for my trip up to Orkney. It was quite the wait until Beltane. I poked around the house doing somewhat productive things until about half seven, when I headed into town. Originally I was with a large group of us from the house, but when a few of them stopped to go pee, I decided to keep going because the #3 was right there.

The festival didn’t start until the sun had completely set. Everyone was standing in a semi circle around the large stone steps. It was a good thing I had gotten there as early as I did. The crowds were growing thicker. I was lucky to be second to the front.

The general premise of Beltane is as follows: Beltane is a 1/₈ point in the year. From a solar perspective the best way to cut the year in half is at the solstices. The equinoxes are half way between the solstices, and Beltane marks half way between the spring equinox and the summer solstice. According to Celtic paganism, this marks the start of summer. The Beltane Fire Festival is an adaptation on their fertility ritual. So in this ritual there are a few characters. There are the “Red Men” although there are several red women. There are the “White Women” although there are several white men. And there is the Green Man, who is a fertility god and represents nature and all that. The general plot of the ritual starts with the characters presenting themselves. The Red Men are supposed to have this strong Sex drive, but the White Women don’t really want anything to do with it. They go back and forth for quite a while and then they all get together at the end.

Now the difficult thing with watching a pagan ritual is that pagan rituals are very big on procession. This means that the parts of this story played out over quite a few different places, and there was no one place where anyone could get a view of all of these. This meant that you had to predict the group and try to beat them to their future destination. Otherwise, you wouldn’t get a good spot. Now I’m a short guy so about half of the segments I had to watch from a distance.

That being said the parts I did see were really cool, there was all kinds of wild dancing. And so much fire. Being a bit of a Pyromaniac… well you can see how that would trip my fancy. With the exception of the bit with the bonfire, it was rather cold that day so I felt bad for the dancers who were next to naked.

I left at the end of the festival. There was an opportunity for the public to join in on the dancing, but I still had a paper to write. It was 12:15 by the time I hopped on the N3 to Dalkieth. It was 2:57 by the time I went to bed. Needless to say I was rather tired by the time I started my next peedie adventure to the Orcades. 

Allons-y!

Ello Mates, Here is the third instalment of my London Adventures, but it doesn’t take place in London. Actually it doesn’t even take place in England. Yep you guessed it: Cardiff, the capitol of Wales. Now you’re probably thinking to yourself who would leave London for a place like Cardiff. The answer is an incredibly huge Doctor Who fan.

Saturday 27 April 2013

9:30 AM

Somewhere west of Reading, England

When I had originally booked this trip several weeks ago, the plan was to leave as early as possible in the morning, and to return pretty late at night. This way I’d have a full day in Cardiff. In hind sight, I would have been better off allowing some time to wander about London that day as well. However, there was nothing I could do about it by this point, so I just sat back and enjoyed the beautiful English countryside, until it turned into beautiful Welsh countryside. There is no real distinction between the two, but it was shaping up to be a brilliantly sunny day. Now that I’d had a proper nap on the train, I felt well rested and ready for the day.

As I stepped onto the platform in Cardiff Central Station, a gentle breeze made the bottom of my trench coat flutter behind me. I strode through the station and into the city centre. One thing I have to say about Cardiff is they have incredibly helpful sign posts. I soon found myself standing in front of one of those signs that have several arrows pointing in all directions. Each arrow points to a different object and gives an approximate distance or walking time to that object.

Using these signs, I was able to find the tourist information centre in no time flat. I have to say I was struck by how beautiful the city was, although this was certainly amplified by the brilliant mid morning sun. Once I got to the information centre, I bought a map of the city for £1 and then never used it. I followed the signs to Cardiff Bay. It was quite the walk out there, but I had loads of time on my hands so I didn’t mind.

I think I almost leaped for joy when I saw the Millennium Centre. For those of you who aren’t Doctor Who fans I’m going to fill you in on some general background stuff. In the Doctor Who universe there is a secret agency known as Torchwood. The Torchwood hub as they call it (but it’s more like a secret base) is right under the giant stainless steel tower across from the Millennium centre. So when they shot the spin off series Torchwood and the hand full of episodes where Torchwood comes into play in Doctor Who they used this site. I was actually on set! Haha! It was so cool.

I continued on until I found a sign that pointed to the Doctor Who Experience. I forced myself to walk casually and slowly towards the giant blue/silver building. Once inside I could hear Doctor Who theme music playing in the background. That got me a bit more excited, but I bet it would be annoying to listen to all day. Anyway, I bought a ticket, and then it was time to wait. The next showing didn’t start until 11:15 and it was half ten now. Time for breakfast.

I made a sandwich with some peanut butter and jelly that I had brought and received a few strange looks. Maybe I was eating in a spot where people don’t normally eat. Either way if I was crossing a social taboo, no one said anything, so when I was done with my meal I walked back to the Doctor Who Experience where I got in queue behind a very overweight man in his 40’s. He was dressed like the 11^th doctor, and this made me stand back and wonder if I was taking my life in the wrong direction.

I looked around at the other people waiting in the queue. The majority of people here were parents with small children. There were a few people who resembled the chap in front of me, and then the rest of us were about my age. They seemed about as normal as I am, and so that made me feel a bit better about this whole ordeal. I felt even better when I noticed a rather pretty girl with the 10^th doctor’s sonic screwdriver sticking out of her pocket.

Now the next bit of this blog post might sound like gibberish to all non Doctor Who fans. The Doctor Who Experience comprises of two parts. The first part is “an adventure through time and space” They take the lot of us on an adventure and have us face some of the many of the Doctor’s worst enemies. The second part of the experience is a museum of sorts, which has all kinds of things from the set. The first bit is more for kids, and I really just came for the second part, but I knew I was certainly going to enjoy both.

So we walked through a door and into a room with a television screen. They were showing a compilation of Doctor Who clips set to exciting music. They were drawn from a series of episodes, to make a new plot for the purpose of this adventure. The video ended with a crack in reality. The television screen split apart along the line of the crack, and we stepped through (which in the Doctor Who universe is a really bad idea, but I suppose that’s not the point).

We found ourselves in the museum deck of the Starship UK. Some of the various artefacts on display were all used on set, and they were explained to us by an information node like the ones used in THE Library. This was all good and fun until the Doctor showed up on the screen (In case there was a question on this, it was the 11^th doctor).  Anyway he was looking for Amy, he would have settled for Rory, but he got us, shoppers. Ohh well we’d have to do. You see, he got himself trapped in the Pandorica #2. Yeah apparently they built a spare, and then he spent a bit of time griping about how it was even the same colour.

Then there was the familiar wheezing sound, and the TARDIS materialized in the corner of the room. The doors opened, and we all shuffled inside. The children were instructed to go close to the control counsel, and the adults were told to go around the outside. This random group of shoppers was going to fly the TARDIS and save the Doctor.

However, like usual in Doctor Who, something went wrong. Something pulled the TARDIS out of the time vortex and had taken us on board. A chrono loop had the TARDIS trapped. So the Doctor instructed us to go outside and be careful. This was also a bad idea, but under these circumstances we didn’t have much choice.

Of course it was the Daleks. I nudged Morgan, the pretty girl with the sonic screwdriver, and said, “Anytime you want to start using that screwdriver would be fine by me.” She laughed, and we watched as the Daleks began squabbling with themselves. The Doctor instructed us to go through the adjacent door and it took us some place, well not nice.

We were in a rather creepy basement place. It was filled with weeping angels. To be honest, this didn’t really fit with the plot of the story we were going with. It was more just an excuse to have the weeping angels in. The room was dimly lit with only a few bright lights on the angels themselves. These lights flashed to give the impression that they were moving in a manner similar to how they move in the show. I’m not going to lie; if I were a little kid this would have been extremely scary. Being a grown up, I just thought this was really cool. All that said, I made a point no to blink.

Anyway, we all made it through, and by the next room the Doctor had somehow managed to get free. To be honest I’m not really sure what we really did that was helpful, other than fly the TARDIS directly into a trap, but he congratulated us all the same. And from here we went on to the exhibition room.

This was cool. This was really cool. This was bowtie cool. They had the actual costumes used by every Doctor, as well as several recent companions. They had an assortment of random gadgets, and coolest of all the actual set TARDIS interiors. The best of these was the interior used for the 9^th and 10^th Doctor. Morgan and I took pictures for each other in front of the control counsel, as a clip of David Tennant regenerating into Matt Smith played on a loop in the background. I think I spent about two hours here looking at all the various artefacts, before heading to the shop.

As I knew they would, they had a Sonic Screwdriver torch. I’d lost my last one, and I certainly couldn’t think of a better place to get my a replacement. The timing worked out well too, because the torch Danny had given me for Christmas had just broken the night before.

It was about half past noon by the time I was out of there which left me with just one tiny little problem. My train back to London didn’t depart until half eight. So I walked to the Cardiff bay visitor centre, and said, “Alright, I have eight hours to kill and nine pounds to my name. What’s there to do in Cardiff?” I expected a laugh for a response, but instead the man working the counter gave me a walking map and pointed out several coastal walks and free museums.

So first I went to the Pierhead building and watched a few informational videos about the city. Then I wandered about. It was a beautiful building, not that it meant much to me. From there I considered going to the Welsh government building. I was going to ask them how they felt about Scottish independence, but I didn’t feel like going through security so I continued on, going around the bay and along the barrage.

I still had an immense amount of time to kill and it was a sunny enough day so I decided to sun bathe. It was probably a wee bit windy for this, but I didn’t mind. It was a good way to kill an hour, and when the sun wasn’t behind one of the scattered puffy clouds it was really quite warm.

I walked the rest of the way around the barrage and then made my way slowly into the city centre. I picked up some black currant jam and Jammie Dodgers on the way and had a nice dinner of peanut butter and jelly. In a way I thought this was a very British sandwich, since I had bought the peanut butter in Scotland, the bread in England, and the jam in Wales. The wind had really picked up by this point, and that made the art of sandwich making rather difficult.

By the time I had made two sandwiches, I was freezing and so I went into the adjacent mall and in search of a food court and some hot tea. Politically speaking I’m more or less socialist, but I learned here that there is a very large part of me that is capitalist. I went to every shop in the food court looked at their tea prices and then went to the cheapest. Capitalism 101, competitive pricing. I ended up talking to a really nice woman in the process so I’m going to call this a win win.

Now that I was warm, fed, and had some tea – I checked the clock to see how long I had to wait. Ohh only another three hours. Brilliant… Alright so here was my logic and the obvious flaw. When I booked the train about a month back I thought that it would be best if I got one of the first trains out of London and one of the last trains back. That way, I would have a whole day in Cardiff to do and see whatever I like. Since I had really seen everything I wanted to see by 12:30, that gave me about 8 hours to kill. I had given myself a strict budget of £20 per day, and so that also served to restrict what I could do. So I really spent most of my time kicking myself, largely because I was wasting my time in doing nothing Cardiff, when I could have been seeing more sites in London. On top of that, I was on my own. So, I spent the majority of the day talking to myself, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry to anyone who’s ever had to spend the whole day talking to me. Long story short, I think I annoyed myself.

All that said, Cardiff is a beautiful city, modern, clean, and with generally kind people. It was a beautiful day with mostly wonderful weather, and right at the very end I found a park with a stone circle in it. The sun was setting on one side, and there were cherry blossoms on the other side with Cardiff Castle in the background. It was an extraordinary view. I don’t know if it makes my top ten most amazing sites, but it might be in the top twenty.

I got to the rail station a bit early, and was pretty happy when the train pulled in. I was sitting across from a rather pretty girl. I feel like this happens to me a lot. Again why can’t I have this kind of luck in the US? However, my luck didn’t seem to be holding out after all. She didn’t seem all that interested in chatting. I tried a few times to start a conversation when it was relevant, but she would give a one word response and drop it. So I slept, or tried to sleep for about half the train ride.

When I gave up on sleep, I noticed that she was scribbling something on her rail ticket. She ran out of room and then began searching her purse for another scrap of paper. I watched her scribble on a receipt for a minute, before I reached into my bag and pulled out a few index cards. I offered them, she smiled, and then we began talking.

We ended up chatting the whole rest of the way to London. Ally was on her way to Brighton, but she had to change rail stations in London. To do that, she had to take the tube from Paddington to Victoria. Apparently she was rubbish on the tube network, and so I helped her get to her stop before heading back to Russell Square.

Abbey Road

Ello Mates, here is day two of my London adventure. Plans, as they should be, were out the window. Enjoy.

Friday 26 April 2013

8:30AM

Generator Hostel Room #329

Yep I slept in… Myranda and Linnea had left without me to go do the river walk. “Well there goes my plans for the day,” I thought to myself as I rolled out of bed and made my way to the showers. I suppose as far as hostels go the showers weren’t bad, and somehow over the course of last night I had managed to get an extra breakfast ticket. When I was dressed for the day, I made my way downstairs and snagged a bag breakfast from the bar. I sat with a handful of students from my group, and asked what they were doing today. My plan was to find someone who was doing something I would find interesting, and to tag along. Those someones ended up being Amber, Jess, and Brittany. Now there is one big problem with going anywhere with Brittany. Tardy is her middle name. We were all ready and waiting for about half an hour before she finally showed up.

Amber, who had been in a generally irritable mood already, was positively livid. This did not make the journey out to the V & A museum enjoyable. Once we got there and started to look at some of the more interesting sites, she did calm down quite a bit. We first went into a Medieval England exhibit which, although being a little recent for my taste, was really rather cool. There were loads of interesting artefacts to see, but my favourite by far was a book on medieval music. Now I can’t read music, but that’s a skill that would have held little value for me here. This was music that was scored in an archaic method that probably only a handful of experts could still read. It was a vestige of a bygone era that would otherwise be lost. This museum also had a wonderful selection of sculptures and iron works.

When we were done here, I really needed Caffeine, and so Amber and I went to a nearby Starbucks. Brittany and Jess went on to visit the museum of natural history. I was glad that Amber was in a substantially better mood, and so we had pleasant time as we made our way to the shop. When we had our coffee, it had begun to rain, and I lamented on forgetting my umbrella back at the hostel. Luckily the rain was short lived. We were dry by the time we made it to our next museum.

Now knowing the dynamics of our friends, we decided that in a museum of natural history Jess would be by the fossils and Brittany would tag along. So our objective was to find the biology stuff and we’d find them. However, upon walking in we were distracted by the escalator leading up to the giant metal orb designed to look like a planetesimal. Amber decided, that if she were Jess, that’s where she would be. Although I was fairly confident that this was not Jess’ choice, I thought this was genuinely cool.

I was right on both counts. This was a pretty great exhibit on the origin and formation of the earth. Amber and I had a lot of fun with the hands on exhibits that are probably better suited for small children. I suppose what’s the point in being a grownup if you can't act childish every once in a while.

We eventually found Jess and Brittany. We decided that we were hungry, and so the four of us went in search for lunch. Amber and Jess had to return back to the hostel soon, and so they got some take away and hopped back on the tube. Brittany and I found some take away soup and sandwiches. We ate slowly and chat for about an hour, enjoying the warm sunshine.

Our next destination was Abbey Road. We were going to head there with a few other people but they ended up being busy, so it was just us. On our way to the next tube stop, we passed Herods Department store. I made a special point to take a few photos of the shop so that I could tell mum that I’d been there too. Brittany didn’t want to stop. She had a very specific agenda in mind, and so we got on the tube and made our way north to Abbey Road.

I suppose now is as good a time as any to talk about British road rules. In the United States, pedestrians have the right of way when it comes to the road. This is not the case in the UK. Here pedestrians should not cross the street or spend any time in the street unless there are no cars. There is one exception where pedestrians have the right of way. They are called Zebra crossings. Luckily the famous spot where the Beatles posed for their album cover is just that.

Even though Brittany and I had the right of way, we felt bad about standing in the middle of the road and holding up traffic. There was a guy there who had a Polaroid camera, and was willing to take our photo for £4. It seemed like a good deal, but we decided to just use our own cameras. This made the process take easily an extra half an hour dodging traffic and waiting for the perfect moment.

When we had finally gotten our pictures, I realized I walk with a horrible slouch. Of course it was too late to go back. By this point, we were on our way further north to the Freud Museum. Personally I couldn’t have cared less, but since Brittany’s crush was a psych major she was insistent about going. As it would turn out, the Freud museum is further north than either of our maps showed. With it being one of the smaller tourist attractions, it wasn’t easy to find. In fact, we never did. We found a statue of Freud, and so we were probably close. Even still we walked down the quaint little streets for a while before giving up and heading to Baker Street.

Upon arrival, we made our way to the surface and Brittany inquired which way we were going. I responded, “Elementary, my dear Watson… our destination is just right around this corner.” Brittany, not being a Sherlock Homes fan sadly didn’t get it. Anyway we walked around the corner and up Baker Street to the Sherlock Homes museum. We weren’t actually going to go in. I just wanted a picture of the outside. Brittany wanted to stop in the adjacent Beatles Store.

Everything in the shop was incredibly marked up, but it was fun to look all the same. I suppose I kinda wished I were a bigger Beatles fan. I mean I love the song’s of theirs I know, but I just don’t know that many. I know some of their history, but I could know a lot more. I think that if I ever plan to visit Liverpool, I will do some hard core Beatles research.

When we were done here, we made our way back on the tube towards Russell Square. This time when I got to the sign that said do not use these stairs unless in an emergency, I began to run. Brittany was supposed to wait for me at the top, but that didn’t happen. Either way, I was able to dash up the equivalent of 15 flights of stairs. I was tired, but felt pretty accomplished.

I bought some stuff for dinner at the Tesco Metro across the street, and then went back to the hostel to eat. When I was done,  chatted with my roommates for about two hours while I waited for Amber to text me that they were back. At the end of the two hours, it was more or less clear that they weren’t coming, and so I went with Nate, Kevin, and Pat to Russell Square where we met up with Casey, Elle, and Katie. My roomies were going to a comedy club. The other three were going to walk along the river and take some pictures of the London Eye. I could see a comedy show anywhere, so I decided to tag along with Casey, Elle and Katie.

We walked across the white suspension bridge that is torn apart by Death Eaters in the 6^th Harry Potter, all the while listening to live music and having a great view of the London Eye and Big Ben. We ended up making a big loop  across the bridge, past the eye, across the other bridge, past Big Ben, to Buckingham Palace, and back to the Wellington Arch, where we caught the tube home.

Mind the Gap

Ello Mates, it’s been a while. Well I have several stories to tell so I think I’m going to try to do a separate blog post for each of the first three days of my London trip. Day four wasn’t eventful enough to deserve a blog post. For all three of these blog posts you can find pictures of each of the days on my Facebook Page. The photo albums should match the blog post titles, but in the meantime we will shortly be arriving in Kings Cross Station. Please Mind the Gap between the train and the platform.

Thursday 25 April 2013

11:53AM

The Outskirts of London

I was running through a mental check list to make sure if I had all my stuff. I have to be honest I was rather excited to be arriving in London through Kings Cross station. Being the Harry Potter nerd that I think you all know I am, it was really cool to actually be in the same place as Platform 9 ¾. Like a handful of other people, I wanted to catch the 1:00 new London Tour, so we were in a bit of a rush. The whole group took quite a while to organize, and then we made our way down to the tube station.

It was about half twelve when we finally got down there. I’d never rode in a subway before, so I was rather excited as we hopped on the Piccadilly line towards Russell Square. When we arrived on the platform, we had to wait for a group of students who had missed the first train, and then when we were all together we had to wait again by the lift. Adjacent to the lift there were a set of stairs with a sign that expressly advised against using them. We all got a kick out of this. “Welcome to London, Don’t exercise.” By the time we made it to the surface, it was clear that there was no way we were going to make our tour if we had to check into our hostel first. So Nikki told the five of us who wanted to go to leave our bags with rest of the group so we could head over there now. We hopped back on the tube towards Hyde Park corner.

As we were pulling into the station the electronic voice with a vague British accent said, “We are now approaching Hyde Park Corner. Do not attempt to stop the train with your hands. The train will always win. Please mind the gap between the train and the platform.” We all got a kick out of that as well.

After several long subterranean tunnels and a series of short flights of stairs and escalators, we made it to the surface and stepped into the bright mid afternoon sun. The new London tour starts by the Wellington Arch, which is at the north west corner of Green Park and the south east corner of Hyde Park. If you get a map of London it’ll make sense. As with all new Europe tours, their start point is designated by people with red T-Shirts and usually a sign on a large stick. If you’ve never heard of New Europe Tours before, I’m going to take a moment to advertise. So tours are expensive, and usually not all they’re cracked up to be. This is a problem with traditional tours. New Europe tours are free. The tour guides are paid in tips. Period. So they have to be good. They’re offered in several large cities throughout Europe. I know London, Dublin, Edinburgh, Paris, and Munich are all on the list, but there are a few more. Although it didn’t receive a blog post, when I spent my day in Dublin, I had a tour through them and I was equally satisfied. This being said, I strongly recommend taking some form of walking tour if you are ever travelling alone and are in a new city. It’s a great way to familiarize yourself with the place, as well as meet new people.

Rachel, our tour guide, was amazing. She not only knew the facts well, but told some pretty great stories along with it. We saw several of the main landmarks such as Buckingham Palace, and Big Ben. I spent the majority of my time talking with an Austrian woman named Sarah who was here doing social work in Reading. She was on her way to Amsterdam for the weekend, but had some time to kill in London. She was nice to chat with, but since she was leaving soon after the tour we didn’t exchange contact information.

I have to say I feel bad that I’m the only one from my group of five who tipped Rachel at the end. I get that we’re all poor, but honestly it’s a little bit embarrassing. I didn’t let this dampen the mood though, because we were in London, and I was enjoying every minute of it.

Now I’ve been to my share of cities by this point, and if I have to pick one city that London reminded me of it would probably be Washington D.C. However, and I apologize to patriots in the room, London is more the city Washington D.C. wishes it was. Ask anyone, I’m not really much of a city person, but I loved London.

After our walking tour was done, the five of us found something to eat and then hopped back on the tube to Russell’s Square. By a stroke of luck, we got off the tube at the same time as a number of other students from our group, and so we simply walked with them to our hostel.

I was rather pleased when I got to my room. Somehow, I’d gotten a bottom bunk. Being the last one of the four of us, I thought for sure I’d be stuck on the top bunk. It was about at this point when I promptly plopped down on the uncomfortable bed and the rock for a pillow and took a quick cat nap. I’d been up since six that morning, and it had proven to be a very long day.

When I woke up, it was time to find dinner. The group was supposed to meet at seven at a Theatre to see the Lion King. This let me with about an hour and a half to find food and then to make my way to the theatre. Being low on money, I went to the nearest Tesco Express. These are great little stores that are found throughout the UK and Ireland. A regular Tesco resembles a Super Walmart with a slightly higher emphasis on groceries. Tesco Express, which is commonly seen throughout large cities, kind of resembles a petrol station without the petrol. Anyway, it’s a good place to go to buy a quick meal. For £3, I was able to get a sandwich, bag of crisps, and a bottle of pop. It was sunny enough, so I sat in Russell Square Park and enjoyed my meal before heading off towards the theatre.

As per usual, I managed to get lost, only to find that my desired destination was right under my nose. However, because I got lost, I ended up walking past the building which inspired Gringots in Harry Potter. So I’m going to count that as a perk, because I was still the first one from our group to make it to the theatre. When the group arrived, there was still quite a while before a giant sun began to rise on the stage and the music began.

I’ve always liked The Lion King. Musicals aren’t really my thing in general, but it was a nice experience all the same. It’s good to do something different every once in a while. If this wasn’t part of the trip, I’m confident that I wouldn’t have gone. However, I’m glad I did. The production was good, the actors did a good job. I enjoyed it, and now I can say I’ve seen a show in London.

When the show was finished, a large group of us decided to walk to Piccadilly Circus. Now one of the things I never worked out about London, was there are a few areas in the city labelled “circus” yet they’re just particularly lively areas of the city. There are no exotic animals, tricks, or tents. I wasn’t disappointed by this of course, because that kind of circus doesn’t really appeal to me. Piccadilly was kinda cool to see though because it’s supposed to be “London’s Times Square.” I can see the resemblance, but I feel like the real Times Square in New York would be somewhat more impressive.

It was about this time when our little band of explorers got lost. It took about an hour, two different maps, and the combined navigational skills of Jana and myself to find our way back to the hostel. We were all exhausted. It had been a long day and a long walk, and most of us were in for an early morning, but you’ll hear about that next time.

I Solemnly Swear that I am up to no Good

Ello Mates, I think I owe you a blog post. I feel like I’ve been lax lately. So I have just the thing to write about. Wands at the ready, and don’t forget your Nimbus 2000. We’re headed to Hogwarts! Well… not really, but you’ll see.

Saturday 13 April 2013

9:38 AM

Berwick Upon Tweed

“And that’s the rail station over there,” I told Jana, as I pointed out the train station I had arrived at the day before. This was kind of a nice treat for me. The day before, I had taken a day trip down to Berwick for an archaeological dig at Norham castle. The dig was rubbish, but it gave me an excuse to wander around Berwick for a few hours. It’s a beautiful boarder town. Today, I was on a bus with a most of the house, on our way to Alnwick castle. A few scenes from the first two Harry Potter movies had been shot here, so a lot of us were rather excited about visiting Hogwarts. We didn’t have to drive through Berwick, but since we did, and I had been there the day before, I was able to act as a bit of a tour guide to the small number of people sitting near me.

I was able to point out the city wall, the town hall, and a few amazing medieval bridges. Once on the bridge crossing the river tweed, one could see the where the river met with the North Sea. It was an amazing sight with the early morning sun shining brightly on the sea in the distance. I hate how pictures turn out when you take them from inside a vehicle so I didn’t take any, but it really was something to see.

It was another hour and a half before we reached Alnwick, but we were all really excited when the castle came into view. Remember how last time I said Blarney was a proper castle? Well Blarney isn’t a proper castle. Alnwick is. We stopped outside to get a few good photos of the place, and then drove through the gate and into the car parking area. Before getting off the bus, Professor Deller stood up to tell us some of the rules and regulations for staying at Alnwick. As it would turn out, the University of Minnesota – St. Cloud. Has a similar program to River Falls’ Wisconsin in Scotland Program. They live in Alnwick castle, like we live in Dalkeith house. This program has been running for 30 years, and it makes me wonder if it in some ways served as a prototype to the WIS program. Anyway, Professor Deller finished off her rules and regulations speech by telling us to avoid a pub that had a bunch of various interesting bottles.

“What about the Three Broomsticks?” I asked when she was done. Most of the bus chuckled a little.

Professor Deller however, seriously responded, “Huh, I haven’t heard of that one. I’ll have to look into it.”

The whole bus was laughing now. So I told her that I was making a Harry Potter joke. For those of you who don’t know, and shame on you if you don’t know, the Three Broomsticks is a pub in Hogsmeade. It is frequented by Hogwarts students. Not surprisingly, there is no such pub in Alnwick. However, that might not be a bad business idea. I'd go there.

Anyway, we were soon in our rooms, which were slightly less lavish than our quarters in Dalkeith. Not being one for glamour, that didn’t bother me. However, I was slightly disappointed that we didn’t have to give a large painting a password to get to our room.

Once we’d gotten settled, we returned to the courtyard, and received our visitor’s passes. The security on site was a novelty that I wasn’t used to. Unlike the WIS program, the Duke of Northumberland lives in Alnwick castle during the winter months. When he and his family aren’t living there the house, castle grounds, and magnificent gardens are on display to the public. We were still in the slow season, but there were tourists everywhere. Dalkeith County park on the very busiest of days might have a few small groups of people walking about, but without some sort of special event going on there would never be this many people.

Several people wanted to get to the garden, but my first objective was Breakfast. I had been told that there was a small market place in town, and if you’ve noticed anything about my blog posts, I love to buy things off the street. So I went into town with Aaron and Nate who was going to meet up with his High School friend Erica. In a happy coincidence she was on the St. Cloud program.

We eventually found the small book shop where she was volunteering. The three of them wanted to return to the castle, but I was hungry. So I went back to a Greg’s that I had seen on the way. They were advertising a £2 breakfast deal and that seemed too good to pass up. Truthfully, I should have waited until I got to the market. There really wasn’t anything that caught my eye, but had I not already eaten breakfast I could have easily gotten some freshly baked pastries instead.

Before returning to the castle, there was a shop I had to visit. Apparently, Alnwick is home to a world renowned second hand book store called Barter’s Books. I sincerely hoped it was more impressive than the small shop we had gone to meet Erica in. Barter’s Books is in the old rail station, and isn’t exactly in the town centre. It’s a bit of a hike to get out there, but it was a beautiful day in a picturesque wee town so I didn’t mind. The rather strong wind made my long trench coat flap behind me giving me a really cool looking shadow.

I had to hop across a few busy streets before I made it to the arched gate which read Barter’s books. This was kind of cool, I thought myself as I walked up a winding ramp to the old train station. Little did I know that I was about to step into my favourite shop in the world. There are thousands upon thousands of books. Some were so old that they were printed in the 1600’s. Others were printed last year. Walls of poetry, Isles of history, Rows of Science, Oceans of first editions – this was a book lover’s paradise. The first main room was made up of a few stacks, which were topped with miniature train tracks. Two small locomotives whirled overhead, surrounded by quotes from famous authors and poets. The other main room was much larger, and its dome ceiling was once certainly where the platforms were, when this was a rail station. Here there were countless more book stacks, and glass cases lined the walls each containing several rare books of various genres.

After a while I found the science case. There was an astronomy book printed in the early 1700’s. If it didn’t cost a staggering £645, I would have bought it right then and there. That’s the problem with my hobby. Old books are expensive. Old science books, which are obviously my preference, are even more expensive. Of course the book had to be opened to a page with a beautifully inaccurate diagram of the solar system. Ohh it breaks my heart.

So I continued to browse for a less expensive book. Eventually, I book that was in a section called Cornucopia of history. I’m not sure how historical it really is but it’s a non-fiction book that was printed in MDCCXXVI. For those of you who don’t read Roman numerals. That says 1726. It was originally £36, but since the cover had been badly damaged in the months since it was put on the shelves they were willing to sell it to me for £24. It was a deal that I would have felt better about if it had been made over my bartering abilities, rather than the desecration of a beautiful ancient book.

I left Barter’s books two hours after I’d entered, feeling really quite proud of my new oldest book. I had shattered my previous record (1843) by over 100 years. With a spring in my step, I wandered through the streets of Alnwick, back to the caste. Now it was time to do some exploring. It was about this time that I realized that the castle had about as much to do with Harry Potter as Harry Potter had to do with the castle. The womping willow scene in the second movie had been filmed here, although there was no willow that was entirely computer graphics. And Harry had learned how to fly a broom in the courtyard, but beyond that there really wasn’t anything about Alnwick that had anything to do with Harry Potter.

Instead, like all real castles do, it had a wonderful rich history of battles, wars, dukes, scandals, and all of the other castle-y things you’d expect. It was fun to wander about the ground and the walls, but I have to admit I was kicking myself a bit. Because I had gone off on my own earlier in the day, I was now on my own. So I wandered into the garden, buying some honey flavoured ice cream in a waffle cone.

It was kind of an odd moment for me, as I sat in this amazing garden watching one of the most spectacular water fountains I’d ever seen. There was this amazing saxophone player playing hey Jude in the background, and I was eating Ice cream in April. Really none of that fits within the box of things I would classify as normal.

After I was done with the ice cream, I wandered through the garden taking several good photos. It was all nice to look at, but honestly the one shore-fire way to bore me is to show me plants. I don’t care how nicely they’re arranged. So I was rather bored, by the time I made my back to the castle. It was here that I noticed a sign that said the State rooms were open.

So I wandered in, and joined a walking tour led by a pretty blond girl. So this is how the aristocrats live… I thought to myself, as I walked along breath taking marble stairways, and countless priceless paintings. Of course the walls were lined with silk. Aren’t yours? There are two cabinets that Madame De Pompadour didn’t fancy, and so she had them thrown in storage. Because of it, they survived the French Revolution. They are now some of the most expensive pieces of furniture in the world. Yeah I don’t have things like that in my drawing room… actually I don’t have a drawing room. Have you seen the library? Ohh my stars. That library. Wow… remember what I said about the archives in Edinburgh… yeah that’s shabby. What about my impressively old book sitting in my shoulder bag. It all of a sudden felt second rate. 40,000 books. All of them beautiful, and ancient, lining the shelves of this two story room. The oldest of which was printed in 1475. One day I aspire to have a collection of old books that wouldn’t look pitiful next to this one. I have a long way to go.

When I left the grandeur of the state rooms, I bumped into Aaron, Casey, and Andy who were coincidentally sharing the room with me. They were about as bored as I was. There was an hour until dinner, and so we all just sat in the room and chatted. We weren’t really talking about anything in particular, but it was nice to relax. The wind had gotten really quite cold.

At six, we made our way to the common room. The food wasn’t there yet, but we began to sit in a large circle. As more people joined, we enlarged the circle pulling chairs that were stacked along the walls. We were chatting away, during the meal, and when we were finished eating we never really stopped chatting. As far as we were concerned, the Alnwick trip was a bit over kill. We’d already seen pretty much all there was to see, so none of us had anywhere else to go. So we went around the circle, telling ghost stories, our strangest dreams, and our most embarrassing moments. It was loads of fun, three hours passed in what felt like only a few minutes. I don’t think our group had ever had a bonding experience quite like this, and it was really quite nice, albeit a bit late in the term.

At 9:00, Nate, Aaron, Casey, Amber and I decided to go out to the pubs with Erica and a few of the other St. Cloud students. I wanted to see another aspect of the town and to meet new people so I was rather eager to go along with them, but in hind sight. I probably should have stayed with the group in the common room.

It was a fun night all the same, having gone to a few pubs and then a club, but I just think I would have enjoyed hanging in the room with everyone else more. Apparently, they continued talking until close to midnight. I don’t think it’ll happen, but I’d really like it if we did that again sometime at the house before we left.

Sunday 14 April 2013

7:31AM

Alnwick Castle

My head didn’t feel great, and I was really quite thirsty. So I reached to my bedside table and went into my packed breakfast. There was a can of Tang soda; that would do. I cracked it open and took a sip. It tasted like orange Alka-Seltzer. Since I knew it was good for me, I took another sip, but that was all that was happening. This stuff was disgusting. It was about this time I realized that I had no reason to be up today. The bus didn’t leave until 3:00 in the afternoon, and I’d already seen the whole town and the whole castle. So I went back to bed.

I think it was about half ten when I woke again. My roomies were starting to stir by that point and so I figured now was as good a time as any to take a shower. When I was out I joined a small band of people who were off in search of breakfast. Well over half of that group, decided they just wanted coffee, and so I ended up eating breakfast with just Amber and Myranda. The food was good, and we ate in this cool subterranean restaurant, beneath a pastry shop. From here we went to Barter’s books.

I ended up buying a record of Steely Dan’s Greatest hits for my dad, and almost another book from the 1700’s. I let the others talk me out of getting it though, because it was £32 I didn’t need to spend.

From here we went back to the castle, and back to the estate rooms where I chatted with several of the various guides. There was one in every room, and so I was able to inquire about various features in each room and have some really nice chats. I have to say I love British accents so really any chatting is grand with me.

Before I knew it, It was 3:00 and we all piled onto the bus making one short stop on Holy Island before driving back across the border into Scotland and back home to Dalkeith.

The Ship Sank and I did not Survive

Ello Mates, I just got back from the land of leprechauns and shamrocks, and I reckoned you’d like to hear about it. So here is the tale of my last full day in Ireland.

Saturday 6 April 2013

9:26AM

Kinlay House #208, Cork, Ireland

My eyes snapped open, as the vivid images of the dream I had been experiencing a few moments earlier rapidly faded away to be replaced with the strangely red dorm room I was staying in. My throat burned, and my nose felt rather stuffed. The early morning sun was shining brightly through my window lighting up the whole space. It had to be at least mid-morning  Snagging my phone, I realized that it had been over an hour since my last alarm had gone off. Breakfast ended in four minutes…   in the words of the Irish, “Aww feck”

I threw my clothes on and ran down to the kitchen hoping to at least get some tea. The woman who was working the counter didn’t seem happy with me, but she let me get some tea all the same. This stopped the burning in my throat, and a few napkins later and my nose too felt substantially better. My tour bus wouldn’t leave until about half eleven, which left me with plenty of time to kill.

Snagging a quick shower and packing up my things, I went downstairs to the front desk and asked for a recommendation on a place to get some breakfast. He pulled out an extra map and showed me where the shop was, along with a cool little alley way which gave a great view of the city.

So I set out to explore. Since I had already done a fair bit of exploring the night before, I already more or less knew where everything was, but it was nice to see the city in the daytime. I ended up passing the butter museum, and missing the restaurant I was supposed to go to.

After wandering down the alley and across the river, I found myself in Cornmarket Street, where to my delight there seemed to be an actual market place. There were people all over the place darting between stands filled with wonderful baked goods and fresh produce. Breakfast was served.

A few quid later, and I had myself a few tasty pastries. Now I was off for the English market. I really didn’t have any intention to buy anything, but the man I met the night before had strongly recommended it so I figured it was worth a look.

I must say I wasn’t expecting what I found. Upon walking in, I felt like I was back in the Egyptian Spice Bazaar. Sure it was a bit smaller, the people spoke English, and the arched ceilings lacked beautiful Turkish designs. However, the swarm of people meandering through the labyrinth of stands, which sold an impressive variety of fresh food, really felt like the Spice Bazaar.

Regardless of this, I wasn’t able to buy anything. Not because I didn’t have any money, but because I was flying with Ryan Air. My tiny shoulder bag was already stretched to the breaking point, and I hadn’t even brought my laptop. This is what I get for taking a discount flight.

It was getting close to half eleven, so it was time for me to head towards the travel centre, where the tour bus would pick me up. Honestly, of the three absolutely beautiful days I’d spent in Ireland, today was the best. Warm air and blue skies seemed to fit perfectly with the quirky colorful streets of Cork. As I crossed the bridge, there were groups of people rowing boats below. It was all a very cool scene.

After a while, the bus arrived and the driver came out to greet me. He asked all the usual questions, where am I from? What am I doing in Scotland? What do I study? Archaeoastronomy? What’s that? He seemed pretty interested, and made a note to mention Neolithic historical facts whenever relevant throughout the day.

The bus was substantially smaller than any tour bus I had ever been on before. It seemed to me that it was caught somewhere between a bus and a van. There was a family on board consisting of two parents, a teenager, and three primary school aged children. Throughout the trip they would mostly keep to themselves, while I hung with the other three passengers.

Monica, Natalie, and Maryellen, were four American students, currently studying in Dublin. I think I need to take this moment to repeat, why does this never happen to me in the States? Anyway, our first stop was Blarney Castle and the surrounding estate. Now don’t get me wrong, Dalkeith County Park is beautiful, but it’s got nothing on Blarney Castle.

It’s a place that is so beautiful that I don’t really want to attempt to describe here. So I’ll tell you what, the following link is my facebook address. http://www.facebook.com/Eciptus.Solipsi In there you can find loads of pictures from all of my Irish experiences, such as my day in Dublin, and my adventure on the Cliffs of Mohr. You may have to add me as a friend to see the pictures. Anyway they’re all found in the album entitled ¿Hablas Gaélico? Which is Spanish for “Do you speak Gaelic?” The name is my own little joke playing off of how surprisingly useful it was for me to be able to speak Spanish in Ireland. Unfortunately that didn’t really come into play during the third day (this blog post).

We wandered around the park crossing a small stream where several people had thrown coins in. Bright silver and copper disks glinted along the stream bed, from places far and wide. The castle itself was both imposing but not. Sure as we walked up to it, one felt small underneath its towering presence. However, this was tiny compared to the castle in Edinburgh.

Over the course of this semester, I’d visited several castles in various states of disrepair. If you ask me, Blarney castle is in exactly the perfect state of disrepair. It’s clearly weathered, worn, and bits of it are completely exposed to the elements. The walls were bare exposed medieval masonry, but most of the tunnels, passageways, staircases, and rooms remained intact. Certainly no one could live here now, but it was in a state where you could really get a feel for what it would have been like to walk down these narrow corridors with nothing but a candle to light your way.

Our first objective, like virtually everyone else who visits the castle, was to find the blarney stone. Now for those of you who have never visited the blarney stone, its actual location in the castle might surprise you. It surprised me. I thought it would have been the corner stone, something in the foundation in an important spot structurally. I literally couldn’t have been further from the truth. The blarney stone is on the very top of the castle. Not surprisingly there is a wall around the roof of the castle. The blarney stone is on the bottom of that wall. It wouldn’t be accessible at all if there wasn’t a bit of the floor knocked out exposing the stone and a few around it.

There are a lot of myths surrounding the stone, and truthfully if the actual builders of the castle had thought there was anything special about that rock there was no way in my mind that they had intended for it to be kissed.

All that said, I got on my back and grabbed the two metal bars put there for support. I then leaned my upper torso and head backwards so that my head was hanging over the open space towards the ground below, and gave the most kissed rock in the world a slight peck.

Apparently they clean it three times a day. I dunno, I suppose it’s not exactly sanitary. It’s a great thing to put on the bucket list, and apparently it is supposed to give one the gift of gab. Now my tour guide said there is another way to get the gift of gab for those who don’t want to actually kiss the stone. Supposedly if you kiss someone who has kissed the stone within the last day it should have the same effect. If neither of these options appeals to you, then you’ll miss out on the gift of gab, but still go to the castle and explore around. It’s definitely worth it.

When we were done in the castle, we went to the poison garden. It was a small garden, filled with planter beds with honestly very little in them. Some of the plants were bound by black metal dome-shaped cages. These plants had familiar names like, Wolfsbane, Wormwood, and European Mandrake. Who wants to start making potions? Just remember to put your cauldrons to a simmer, and add a counter-clockwise stir for every 8 clockwise.

Our next destination was the wishing steps. It’s quite the scenic hike out there. The steps themselves are rather curious, made of stone and covered by a stone tunnel. In order to get a wish, a potential wish seeker is to walk down the steps backwards thinking of the wish the whole way down. If you slip and fall, it doesn’t count. If you wish to not slip and fall and you make it to the bottom that is proof that it works.

When we had all made our wishes, we walked back through the park, towards where our bus would pick us up. We had a bit of time left so we stopped for lunch. I had a really tasty bottle of juice and great sandwich. Well worth it.

After we got on the bus, our next and final stop was the port town of Cobh. Although Titanic fans would know it better as its old name, Queenstown. This was the Titanic’s last port of call before it departed for its brush with destiny.

They have a titanic visitor centre, which honestly is rather cool. You walk in, pay a few quid and they give you a boarding pass. You’re now a passenger that boarded from Cobh. They take you through as you would have been depending on which class you were. They showed us what our rooms would be like, and what the first class would be like. All four of us were third class passengers. I was a third class 20 year old male named Mathew.

They then take you into a movie room which is more or less decked out to look like a life boat, and they play a video of what the titanic would have looked like sinking into the sea.

We then left our lifeboat and headed into a museum centre which told a lot about the titanic, both its construction and its discovery. The following rooms allowed us to look up ourselves to see if we survived. The ship sank, and I did not survive. 

Fresh from the Trenches

Ello mates, I’m off on another adventure this weekend, but before I depart, I wanted to tell you this tail of my adventure last weekend.

Saturday 30 March 2013

9:10 AM

Just outside Appleton Tower, Edinburgh

A pack lunch and a bottle of coke were sitting in my union flag bag. We were waiting outside the shuttle van for any stragglers who were tagging along. I was with the Arch Soc group, and quite frankly it was too for me to have caught a bus into Edinburgh. So needless to say I wasn’t all the way awake yet. The sky was overcast, and the slightest flurry of snow drifted around us. If the weather were to up like this, today promised to be a long day. All the same I was excited; this would be my first real experience with archaeology.

We winded our way through Edinburgh, heading east into the East Lothian region. Our first stop was in the small village of Haddington. This wee hamlet seemed to me as if it had hardly changed over the last two hundred years. It was rather nice to see a village with this sort of classic appearance. I was in the UK after all; I figured I had to run into one of them sooner or later.

We were here to visit St. Mary’s Cathedral. This massive church reminded me in many ways of St. Magnus’s Cathedral in Kirkwall. Because it sits so close to the river Tyne it has often experienced flood damage. There are pocks in the outside walls from bullets during the siege of Haddington, and half of it was left without a roof for nearly 400 years. However, today an incredibly convincing fibreglass roof covers the side of the church which was once exposed to the elements.

Our mission here was to look for graffiti carved into the stones on the inside of the church. Now when I say graffiti, I don’t mean anything even remotely akin to the words and patterns one can find spray painted in today’s cities. We were instead looking for carved mason’s marks or really anything else of interest.

For those of you who don’t know, way back in the day, stone masons would sign their work with a somewhat simple symbol of their own design. Each mason’s mark was unique, and served as a way to prove what work each mason had actually done. In a way it was analogous to signing a painting, but it also served as way for the person funding the project to know how much each mason should be paid.

I loved this part of the day. In my mind it wasn’t really archaeology, but it was something that I was rather familiar with. If there was a way I could search through old buildings and look for graffiti for a living, I would drop archaeoastronomy in a heartbeat. This was quite simply fun. I was one of the first to find a mason’s mark, which looked like a mixture between a cross and an upside down capitol Y. I would later find a series of marks that resembled anchors, and it really was fun to follow them through the cathedral. It was as if I was following that mason as he worked.

When we were done at the cathedral, it was time to leave Haddington. Our next destination was Amisfield walled garden. Like virtually all old structures in Scotland, this walled garden has quite the checkered past, which we were told upon arrival. I’m going to spare you the details because they mean very little to the plot of this blog post, but if you’re curious do look them up. I found them to be rather amusing.

What I will tell you about Amisfield is that it is all for show. It is the second largest walled garden in Scotland. Walled gardens exist to block the interior from the wind. The wind is supposed to hit the wall, and go up and over the whole garden. Amisfield is so large that the wind doesn’t make it all the way over the whole garden, completely defeating the purpose of having a wall. The back portions of the wall, where guests would never be taken, was put together by some of the sloppiest masonry I have ever seen. The front portion of the garden, which was intended for visitors, was dressed to look as if it had been put together by some really high quality masonry. However, underneath this façade was some equally dodgy masonry.

So right now you might be wondering what would there be to show off in this fabulously fake Scottish garden. The answer may surprise you, because it certainly surprised me. They were growing pineapples. Yes you read that right, pineapples. As it would turn out back in the Victorian era, pineapples were worth their weight in gold. You didn’t eat them; you rented them for a centre piece. They were the ultimate status symbol.

Now I’m sure you’ve noticed the problem with this that I have. Gloomy, cold, and rainy a healthy pineapple it does not make. So what did our clever Victorians do? They built steam heated green houses, which originally used Roman technology. In the mid 19^th century they replaced the Roman style steam heating, with iron piping. However, for a time there was a Pineapple growing green house in Victorian Scotland, which worked because of Roman technology. So once upon a time, there were three such houses. The largest, in the centre, housed the prized pineapples, while the two smaller ones on either side held peach trees and melons.

When we arrived, the pineapple house had already been completely excavated, and the house on the left was well on its way. They believed the left house was used for peaches, due to the fact that it had ample space in the dodgy masonry for roots to spread. The house on the right was completely unexcavated.

There were three of us who had never participated in an archaeological dig before, and so we were taken to the site of the mystery house. Since we were virgin archaeologists and this was our first time getting down on our knees and dirty. They showed us the ropes. I apologize for that…   that’s a bit of bad archaeology humour. I’ve found that those who work in a trench tend to have their mind in the gutter.

Our first job was to decide where to put our trench. How do you pick something like that? Is there a right place to start digging? Truthfully there isn’t one right answer, and this part of archaeology more than anything else is largely guess work. The one bit of direction we were given on this subject was to always work from what is known out towards what is unknown.

On the site there was a stone slab sticking out that once was likely the exterior part of the foundation, and a bit of a metal pipe sticking out from the wall of the walled garden. That area was about as “known” as it would ever get when it comes to archaeology so that made a good place to start. Now that we had a starting location, we had to mark off our trench area with some highly sophisticated equipment – namely string, stakes, and a measuring tape.

We marked off a trench area of one metre by three metres, and then with our spades began to dig. Now when digging a trench it is important to remember two things. First never drive your spade directly down into the soil. The object is to slowly remove the dirt, not to drive the shovel through any artefacts that might be buried. Second, try your best to remove dirt at an even rate, maintaining a flat surface within the trench and striving for a sheer wall where the string was.

All three of us were very good for beginners. We were cleared down to the first hint of masonry within a half an hour, and then it was time to switch to trowels and dust pans. By this point, a second vertical pipe began to start poking out in my section. This was apparently very good, because the other house showed the masonry for this type of vertical pipe, but it had long since eroded away.

Archaeology is a slow process. For first timers we couldn’t have had a better starting point. We were digging in an area where we knew there would be something, and what we knew there would be would truthfully have very little consequence on the scientific and historical communities. When I say very little, I mean virtually none. So basically we were digging in an area which would provide instant gratification, where it wouldn’t matter if we screwed up.

All and all we dug for approximately four and a half hours, and I have to say I was impressed with our progress. The trench looked exactly like one would expect a trench to look, with sheer vertical walls and a flat bottom. There were artefacts that were beginning to come into shape, and their purpose and function would be understood after a wee bit more digging.