Sunday 31 July 2011

Why do I do this to myself?

Today, I thought I'd update firefox. It's been awhile, and I thought maybe I could skirt around some of the Livejournal issues by updating. Instead, I get a note saying the new version isn't compatible with the aol toolbar that I like to use, and it made one big mess. I ended up restoring my system on a back-date but got the surprise of my life when I returned to the browser only to find no back arrow/refresh button. I managed to fix it thanks to a quick goggle search, but now I find myself having to re-visit all my regular spots to get them back into the memory. The computer kept the bookmarks, but not the history of said bookmarks ect...and might I add, now spell check is on for my every post. How annoying is this little glitch?

The bonus? My "fix" didn't help with LJ--the pics are now only posting at the bottom of each entry, despite putting my cursor elsewhere. They certainly are making it easy for me to kick that particular habit and stay over in this neck of the woods.

These are the kind of time wasters I want a guy around for. Computer fixing, TV hook-up, and the heavy lifting. :-)

ETA: I figured out the Livejournal photo glitch..Now to turn off this %%$$ spell checker that insists on underlining everything in red. Any ideas? Seems to be associated with re-installing my browser (Firefox 3.5) and the system turning it on automatically. Useful, but annoying!

Saturday 30 July 2011

Hershey Kiss for Fish...

Fish, this one's for you. A friend of mine went to Hershey park with her kids and got their pic taken with hershey kiss dude. I cut the kids out and left you the good part!:-)

Friday 29 July 2011

The New Blogger in Town

So, I've just spent three days hauling blog entries from Livejournal over to this neck of the woods. I enjoy LJ, but I'm not going to continually worry about cyber attacks and wonder how safe/secure my entries are. I enjoy writing, I don't enjoy the techno mumbo-jumbo that keeps this stuff working. So, excuse me while I finish the unpacking around here. Oh, I also hired an art/design director, so if you see the layout/headers change once in awhile, that's Jill at work behind the scenes. We haven't come to an agreement on payment yet, but I'm thinking of a chocolate bar a month, or a pretty bookmark.


 


There we go! Perfect!

Direct links to the right will make entries easier to navigate. Entries actually go from bottom to top (if you are interested in chronological order) With the trip entries beginning at 'Welcome to Horley."

Traffic Jam---Heading back to London

Jul. 28th, 2011 | 10:59 pm

I had to laugh when our bus driver exclaimed "I've never seen the traffic that bad." after it took us 3 1/2 hours to get back to London/Gatwick Airport. It wasn't that bad, clearly his guy had never driven in Toronto.

Sure, it was busy, but Wimbledon was also happening nearby, so I don't know what he expected. Here's some traffic pictures and a cool sign we saw the next day as we entered the airport to head home.






This just looked like Toronto traffic to me. Definitely not the worst I'd ever seen and the scenery was, for the most part, a lot nicer than Toronto's.

LOL at this guy


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 We were forced to head back to Horley/the nasty B and B for the night before catching our flight in the morning. Had we been able to cancel online we would have, but we didn't have net access. Nothing had changed. We still found ourselves getting a cool reception (at one point the owner's wife said to her hubby, tell them the room will be ready in 20 minutes and I was standing right there!) 

Then Mom made the mistake of asking if she could get water from the cooler in the front room just as we were leaving for the airport and the woman actually said "We like to keep that for people going out for the day." Hello? We were going out and we were paying customers. 

I reviewed the place on tripadvisor and the owner responded saying "they would have cleared up misunderstandings" but WE didn't say anything. What's to say? "Get a clue, and be more hospitable?" "Stop being so uptight?" Of course, now we see better places in the area. Hindsight is always 20/20.



 


St. Peter's Port aka Guernsey

Jul. 24th, 2011 | 11:44 pm

Welcome to St. Peter's Port (aka Guernsey)

This was to be our last port of call before we headed back to South Hampton. We didn't book any tours because as it turns out, Mom has a friend who grew up here, and her brother was going to meet us inland and give us the royal treatment. (aka tool us all over the island in his mini-car and show us the hotspots.)

http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v624/CindyM99/United%20Kingdom/lastdayonshipandreturningtolondon/#!cpZZ3QQtppZZ20


It sounded good, until things started to work against us. The weather the previous night had been wet/foggy. The sea got so rough that we were banned from going out on the decks. (Again, not a fun night for those of us battling motion sickness) So, we got into port very late due to reduced visability/speed.

This port was a tender port (haul out the lifeboats) so those with booked tours got priority when it came to going ashore. Had we gone in, we likely would have only had an hour or so to look around before the last boat left for the ship. It was too rushy for us, and after a rough night, I was looking for some relaxation. Miracles of miracles it was finally HOT. Traveling north had been great, but the south finally offered some fun in the sun. The pools onboard came to life with laughing kids and adults alike. Still, Mom and I stuck to the "adult" pool at the stern of the ship (yes, I'm using the REAL term:-)) Even with suntan lotion I managed to get pretty crispy, but the warmth of the sun made it all worth it. Mom swam in the pool behind me, while I stared out at the fancy boats that were zipping across the water to get an upclose view of the ship. I had fun waving at them from my perch above:-)

I was disappointed that we never saw land. From everything I read, this was a unique island with lots to offer, and those that I spoke to who had gone on a tour seemed to really enjoy it. There was this structure poking out of the water...I still have no idea what it is...

Oh, this was the day I figured out how to "bring a picturer in closer" with the magical lever, first time I saw Mom up close in fifteen days! (I'm kidding, I'm kidding, sort of:-))

It was fun having the waitress bring me Coke's while I sat around doing pretty much nothing for the first time in days. Not a bad way to spend some time. Here's a link talking about Guernsey, I'm sorry I can't give you an in-depth report.

It has an interesting history and as the link speaks of, it's not technically part of the UK.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guernsey

Here's some fun in the sun pics





I never figured out what this structure was. I bet it's mentioned in the link above, Mom and I had fun taking guesses...

Part of a castle? Part of a dungeon? Absolutely nothing?





I haven't been able to find this shirt since I got home...That's okay, now that I see that I look like Charlie Brown's chubby sister in it. Just say no to stripes for Cindy.

Hey, she's up close! Yay! I found the zoom lever! Go Me! :-)


I would have given anything to ride on top of the boat on this hot, sunny day. The Princess crew would have had a heart attack watching me climb up there sans wheelchair. Anytime I moved, they were hovering a foot away. SO sick of it by the end of the trip. There's help and then there's going overboard. Hmm..going overboard, interesting idea...


Boats kept jetting out too meet us, was fun watching them all look up as they got closer...



All in all, I enjoyed the trip. I wish I could have seen it in a different way. It was too rushed. The frantic pace was rough on both of us and I think it hindered our ability to get the most out of each city. One of my friends asked me to look at it from a "disabled traveler's" prospective and I have to tell you, from that perspective it gets little more than a C+.

Had I been alone in the airports, I would have struggled to get from point A to point B. The ramps were too steep, I couldn't push myself up/down them and though the washroom accessibility gets an A, I can't live in the bathroom. Often, I was left watching as Mom struggled to haul around four suitcases by herself. Help that was supposed to show up was either late getting there, or just didn't show. (help phones were around but staff was slow to respond.)

When we got back into Toronto, the man helping us disembark from the plane said they have roughly ten staff members handling hundreds of passengers on airplanes spread out over three terminals.

Curbs are lovely, but if you make one curb, there should be a corresponding curb directly on the other side, not twenty feet over in the wrong direction.

By comparison, the Princess staff went crazy with their offers of help. They were constantly in my space and in my face and it drove me up the wall. If Mom even so much as left my side for 30 seconds, they were all over me. At one point, they dragged me to a tender boat without Mom (while I had her cruise card, something she needed to get back onboard) and I had to insist that they let go of my chair. Honestly, that kind of thing was very annoying. I'm already in a chair with little control, you don't need to be touching me. They knew early on that I was capable of asking for help, I made it clear, but just as clear to me was the fact that they were going to carry out their "job" no matter what I said.

The moral of this story--ASK someone if they need help. Sure, help someone that needs it, but it doesn't hurt to say "Can I help you?" Sometimes I need it, sometimes I don't, but believe me when I tell you, If I KNOW I can't do something, I will ask.  I was so grateful that people in the UK had no trouble looking me in the eye. They would talk to me, not just Mom. Here, I've noticed that people tend to talk to Mom INSTEAD of me because I'm in the chair. One wonan onboard proceeded to ask Mom if I could walk/talk. This, as I sat one deck below, working on my computer, sipping a Coke. Mom laughs that kind of stuff off, but man it gets under my skin. If you want to know about me, try asking me, if I don't talk back, THEN assume I can't talk. It drives me crazy. Quite often if I'm in a store, a salesperson will ask Mom what size I am ect...and I'll pipe in with "You can ask me that." The look on their face? Priceless. :-)

Having been through all of this, I know now that vacationing on my own is a pipe dream. It won't happen in my lifetime. And the simple fact is, we've made little progress in equaling ANYTHING out. Here's the really bad news. If it doesn't happen in the next ten years, I predict that it will NEVER happen. Baby boomers are all aging, so disabled/aging numbers are at an all-time high. So, if we don't find the money to level the playing field now, we never will.

It makes me sad to know that I will never see the kind of freedom that the majority of the population enjoys. I will never get to plan a vacation strictly based on what I want to do, see, or experience. I suppose I will just have to wait for my next life, but man, it sucks in the meantime.

Anyway, issues aside, I hope you've enjoyed my take on the journey and that in reading along, you got to experience some of the joy along with me because despite all of the challenges, I did enjoy it. Mom did a fabulous job handling so much on her own, other passengers were in awe and rightly impressed.

One man came up to us at the end of the cruise handing me a clunky, cheap ring with a heart that flashed. He joked that I'd stolen all of their hearts. I had to laugh, because I'm anything but a heart stealer, and it's not like I was Molly sunshine the whole time, I mean, this was all pretty challenging. It was nice to be acknowledged, and know that people were keeping an eye out for us, even if we didn't always realize it.(Where were these people when we needed them in France? Couldn't find you then, could we?:-))

If you got a chuckle out of my accounts, my job here is done. Now if you'd like to add some pennies to my bank account so that I can buy a compass for the next trip, feel free to drop me a line. :-) Us directionly challenged people need all the help we can get.

Thanks for reading/following along!



Thursday 28 July 2011

Welcome to Holyhead Wales--Can We find the Right Train Please?

Jul. 20th, 2011 | 03:09 pm



smg.photobucket.com/albums/v624/CindyM99/United%20Kingdom/Holyhead%20Wales/

After ten days on the cruise, I thought I was well past the element of surprise. I have to tell you, by this point I was on my last legs. (Not literally, I was still hanging out in my wheelchair ninety-nine percent of the time.) but I was pretty much done. When we got up that morning, it was foggy and grey and those of us with a tendancy toward motion sickness had had a pretty rough night. I had actually had to leave dinner because I couldn't take the rocking any longer.

I remember waking up thinking "I can't do this today." and then just as quickly I remembered, this was the BIG day, the one Mom and I had waited for the whole trip. Train day through Snowdonia. (The link to the site detailing the train ride is in an earlier entry pre-trip entry) Anyway, we fought for our place on this locomotive. The cruiseline had sent out an email asking people to book early and we never got the email thanks to a database error that Princess discovered well into the booking process. So me being me, I called them and told them that because of their error we were now on a waiting list and how was that fair? Within two days Mom got a call, they apologized, saying they would do everything they could to get us booked on that tour. So, they found us a spot, and voila, train day!

I knew my adrenaline was going to have to carry me through, and it did, with some minor (okay, major) glitches.

As soon as we made it off the ship, I knew this port was going to offer a different experience. For starters, in order to get off the "base," we had to drive down a one lane road that spanned over the water. It was a new experience as other ports hadn't had anything like this, usually we had to rely on the lifeboats, this relied on a steering wheel and a steady hand.



Of course we wouldn't have gone off into the water, but after a rough night at sea, it can easily feel like you were going to slide right in...

I knew right off that we had two good tour guides this time. Both the driver and the actual guide were native to Wales, and it was obvious that both took great pride in that.

In Northern Wales, they speak Welsh and English. They are required to take English up to the age of sixteen so there was no language barrier here. Though both were perfectly comfortable with English, they spoke Welsh to each other and our guide (Nina) indicated that speaking anything else between them would seem "unnatural." 

I have to clarify that we were in North Wales. Apparently, in the southern part of the country, they are perfectly happy speaking English so Welsh is dying out. Not so in the North. They are proud of their heritage and seem to hang onto it with a kind of grim determination. Right off the bat, you sense that the road for this civilization has not always been paved with kindness and that there are serious issues between Wales and England that prove problematic, likely for generations to come.

We made it safely off base, quickly coming upon Anglesey, home to Will and Kate. Nina had actually been in their farmhouse as friends of hers used to rent it for summer holidays. "Obviously, it been made over to accomodate them, but not much has changed about the place." Kate and Will enjoy the local pub, and Kate is spotted regularly on shopping detail in the market. The locals enjoy the idea of Kate and Will's first child being born there, but I think they also understand that it's not very likely.

The boat below is one of the fleet that can get you to Dublin in 99 minutes. It was just recently completed after MANY delays. (Sounds like projects around here)  The locals joke that they thought it would never set sail, nicknaming it the HSS--Hope She Sails Soon! The best part? You can bring your cats and dogs onboard as long as they have a "pet passport" which includes microchipping and can take up to six months to complete. Love the pet idea, but think six months for your pet to clear customs is a bit much!







You know you're in the the UK/Wales when you pass castles on your way to other things. To them I think, it is just the "norm," part of their landscape.






There's a house out on the tiny island in the middle of the water, can you see it? Our guide called it her "dream" home. I call it stuck in the middle of nowhere. I mean, I love being alone, but even I have my limits.

Some kids ended up setting that bridge on fire. It took them six years to rebuild it. They are also looking to build another bridge that could handle bus/truck traffic to make the area more "accessible."  Personally, I enjoyed the lack of/slower traffic and put it in the category of "be careful what you wish for."





See?? Much better view of the house--still don't want to live there, rent for a romantic weekend? Okay! :-)





On our way to Betws-y-coed...A cute little resort town that made us feel like we were in the Alps of Switzerland. Our guide had spent summers there as a child and had lots of fond memories of the area. Little shops offered unique items at a reasonable price and really, it felt as if you had fallen off the edge of the world and landed in this peaceful/charming spot. The air was crisp/clean, the people friendly.

Ironically, after we got back one of Mom's co-workers asked her where she got her shoes and when Mom answered "Betws-y-coed" she knew immediately where it was because she had spent childhood summers there as well. It is in fact, a small world.



























Wales has more sheep than people.

Sheep population of Wales is four times greater than that of humans. (3 million versus 12 million)

Other fun Wales Facts/Interesting Trivia

www.klickthis.com/wales_facts.html













I should probably clarify why some of these pictures look blurry/foggy. Well, we were speeding past in the bus (a refrain I have repeated many times in this log.) and as you can see, it was foggy/rainy at many points during the journey. Our bus driver looked all of twelve, so people kept asking him if he was old enough to drive the bus. He would flash a sly smile, and drive on. He was a cute little thing, and the ladies had fun teasing him. I of course, did no such thing! I quietly enjoyed the view with the rest of the sane passangers:-))

The rain held off for the most part, but no doubt it affected the pictures. Mom did a great job snapping away, despite some pretty adverse conditions.

Adverse conditions, yes, we were about to run into some more of those, but this time, Mother Nature had nothing to do with it, this time is was all man-made (or women made if you want to get specific)

We made it to Ffestiniog Railway just in time to catch our train...

Now in order to understand what happened, you have to know that Mom and I had a pattern by now. We had taken to letting all of the other passengers off the bus before we made our way down  because we didn't want to hold anyone up. It was a mistake for this stop because we weren't going to take the wheelchair on the train (no space) so what was left was the two of us lagging behind with Mom pulling on my arm. Normally, I would take my crutches for this sort of thing, but the train tracks were RIGHT THERE and the crutches were safely tucked away on the ship, two hours away. 

As we climbed off of the bus, we quickly noticed that no one else was around. Again, we had red circles stuck to our jackets with our bus number on it, so, they weren't hard to miss, they had simply vanished.

The pressure on my arm increased as Mom pulled me along to the tracks. Initially, we figured they couldn't get far, so we were keeping our eyes peeled for the red seven plastered on our fellow riders. Mom led me up the tracks and it wasn't long before I noticed that we were clearly on the wrong side of said tracks. I was standing literally a foot from a very active track and it made me nervous. I began telling Mom that we needed to get to the other side. I saw people loading onto the train from within the station that was just ahead and I wanted to get in line with them.

Instead, we kept walking and Mom stopped me in front of an open car and began helping me up. I knew right away that something was wrong. There were no other people in the car, red sevens or otherwise. I yelled back down "This isn't right, this isn't right..."

Not sure what to do, Mom caught the eye of the conductor up front "We're with the group." She shouted over the hiss of the engine. "Where are you headed?" The conductor asked "How far are you going?" 'is this the right train?" Mom asked ignoring the man's question, clearly starting to get a little panicked. "This train goes to Ireland." he yelled back.

Those words sent both of us scrambling. Mom hurried to help me down and the conductor now seeming to understand our predicament, shouted down at us. "The mountain train is over there..." The clear other side of the tracks. "You have eight minutes."

Once again, I felt myself being dragged by the arm as we hurried to make our train. We still weren't sure what route we had to take to get there, and panick was starting to override both of us. At one point I told Mom I had to stop and throw up. Even as I said it, both of our legs kept moving,  our eyes searching...

Mom finally spotted the path to get us over to the other side, thank god because unlike the trains, I was running out of steam. We got to the antique train and started knocking on the doors. Finally, a door swung open and hands reached out to help me inside. There they were, the blessed red sevens shining like a beacon. We'd found them! I settled back in my seat before promptly leaning my head against the cool window pane. I felt so sick. I was tired and overheated and even the cool sense of relief wasn't enough to stop me from feeling like I wanted to jump out of the window. Instead, I let them shut me in. Shut me in this hot, stuffy train with four people who wouldn't stop talking. "We loved that trip, not as much as this trip though, this is great, have you been here before?" Honestly, after five minutes of hearing them cluck like hens, I wanted to through them out the window too.

Mom choose that moment to take this picture. I didn't upload it into the album, but I'm nothing if not honest, and all of my friends have made comments about how happy I look in all of the pictures. Not this one. Mom had just discovered the black and white feature on her camera. "At least nobody will see how green you were. It looks like a mug shot!" she cackled gleefully. Yeah, it does.



Drama aside, here's the rest of the pictures. It was a drizzling/foggy day so the pictures aren't the best quality, but Mom did a great job just snapping away trying to capture what she could. On the bright side, any thoughts of veering off the tracks and tumbling over the mountainside were lost on me as I just wanted to get through the hour long trip. Honestly, I felt like I was in the twilight zone. As you snake up the mountainside you see sheep, some just standing there peering back at you, but some, some of them are living in peoples' backyards.

We didn't get a picture of the train so I've downloaded one to place here. We were a little busy trying to find the thing. It reminded me of the type of train you would find yourself on during a child's field trip with their school. It's likely used for just that purpose in the area. Still, kudos to all the volunteers who keep this thing running (they built the tracks too) to keep their history alive. They used to mine slate in the area and it kept the town vital for generations. Now, the town is lagging as it struggles with both a high unemployment rate, and the need to "move on" even as it fights to preserve it's history. This was a slate mining town and Nina spoke fondly of her Grandfather who would walk into town every Monday morning and stay there for six days straight. Even though the job was "local" all of the miners stayed in town and her Grandfather would return home every Saturday night with the minister in tow.Her grandparents lived next to the rectory so would "host" the clergyman before his Sunday service. So, as you can imagine, lots of work, little family time yet a great pride in providing for their families. Struggle town or otherwise, the pride was still there, still lingering in the roots of this charming place.










Aww..I don't have any pictures of the sheep hanging out in the backyards. Mom warned me that she was "going to delete the blurry ones." Before she gave me the last disk of pictures. Total bummer because I distinctly remember an image of a sheep hanging around a yard. She obviously went delete happy on these pics because "bus driver dude" has disappeared too. So, to sum up, I paid for a crazy expensive train ride so we could take four pictures (one of which looks like it belongs on a "Canada's Most Wanted" poster) and hang out with some overzealous tourists. Okay then. Next!

After seeing the sheep/lambs hanging out in the fields (and in the yards) it was decided that we were all hungry enought to EAT the lambs. It almost makes me sick typing it, nevermind actually doing it. So, we rode to this hotel for lunch and I swear to you, it was my plan to sit outside while the others ate. Only after I realized that the dining room looked out over the front lawn did I know that wasn't going to happen. So, I sat in the hotel's front sitting room sipping on a Coke and reading the paper. I couldn't bring myself to sit with people who had no trouble wolfing down innocent animals after we had watched them graze peacefully off the land all afternoon. I'm not a vegetarian, but I have my limits.

Honestly, I enjoyed the quiet, and reading the paper gave me a glimpse into Wales and what matters to them. And what do you know, I found a bunch of "come to our store to receive this free item" coupons. Some themes are universal!







Nina told us this great story about her Grandfather walking out to the road each morning to catch the bus into town. He was a miner, who along with the majority of the workforce, mined slate. They were away from home six days out of seven and on Saturday nights he would come home with the minster in tow because they lived next to the redtory and would "host" the clergyman for Saturday supper prior to his Sunday morning service. So, you can imagine how little family time there was, though there was no shortage of pride in the ability to provide for the family. Her Grandfather died from lung cancer. Most of the minors developed respitory issues/cancers from breathing in slate dust.

In it's own way, Wales reminded me of Quebec. They are fighting to keep their own identity/traditions alive while trying to cope in the modern world. That said, I found Wales to have much more appeal than Quebec ever will. Quebec whines at Canada constantly wanting money, recognition, special status,  pretty much anything they can get their hands on. It's annoying and frustrating and for the most part, the only people that will lsten to it are the politicians (who unfortunately hold the purse strings) so Quebec gets what they want, while holding the rest of us hostage with threats of leaving. (Which IMO most of us would cheer heartily for.)

I digress...


Wales still has ties to the Monarchy, but they have their own coucil members who represent the people in each different area. They also have their own medical system/coverage and seem quite happy with the arrangement. There is talk of "breaking away," but I didn't get the feeling that it was imminent.

There's one thing that seems to stick in their craw and that's the fact that though Charles holds the title of Prince of Wales, he continues to refuse an offer of residency there. They have offered several locations over the years and heard nothing but a resounding "NO" from the monarchy. The title of "Price of Wales" dates back to the 1284 when the son of Edward ! was born here. Since the birth of Edward II (future heir to the throne) it has been a tradition to grace the British Crown Price with the title of "Prince of Wales." So, you can see why they would be a little peeved that the monarchy continues to snub them.  Hence, their faith in the future resting on William's shoulders.

The area is known for two huge festivals throughout the year. One is the "Royal Welsh Agricultural Fair"

www.rwas.co.uk/society

The other is their music festival.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eisteddfod

Pavarotti's father used to sing here when he was a child, and would bring his son to the festival in hopes of immersing him in Welsh culture. It worked. Pavarotti maintained a residence here and would return often. The festival is the equivalent of "American Idol" for them. It is a HUGE deal and everyone watches on t.v to catch both the local and international talent.

All in all, the scenery here was beautiful. Once again everything was so green and luch. The drive back to the ship through Snowdonia was breathtaking as we wound around curvy roads, forest on both sides. We also caught a glimpse of hikers as they made their way along one of the many trails (not something I would have attempted on the terrain.) I'm so disappointed that there aren't more pictures. Blurry or otherwise, I would have liked to have had them, if only to ivoke memories. "Do you remember how steep this road was, can you believe how green it was, hey I remember this stretch of trees!" THAT is why I don't delete pictures.

Anyway, I hope you've gotten s bit of a feel for Holyhead. It would have been nicer if the sun had come out and I wasn't feeling so blah, but all in all, I enjoyed the scenery. If you ever get the opportunity to go through Snowdonia, take it. nature at her best along with people that really care about what happens to their culture/society.