Location: A French-speaking area of Switzerland
Listening to: Cantique de Jean Racine
Wow, am I behind. I'm driving with Capucine, Marcel, and Emily from Rottenburg am Neckar in Germany to Capucine's place in southern France, and they're having a conversation in German so I figured I'd take a minute to write.
On Monday, we had quite the international rail experience. We had to switch to a later train than planned (unless we wanted to pay €300), so it didn't even start off all that well. We made it to the station in plenty of time, which we almost needed when we went through customs. I'd written the landing card while we rode to the train station on the subway, so my writing was a little choppy. I also neglected to fill in the contact address box (which I think said “optional”) because I hadn't checked my email since mom had sent it. The customs officer was less than thrilled.
“Are you traveling with anyone?”
“Yes. My friend's over there (pointed to another line).”
“You should have stayed together.”
“Oh. I'm sorry.”
“It's a bit of a problem. You're supposed to be together. Remember that next time. Why didn't you write in your contact address?”
“I don't actually know the address. They're picking us up from the Birmingham station.”
“Who?”
“Friends of my family.”
“How do you know them?”
“They hosted my mother when she studied here almost 30 years ago.”
“But you've never met them?”
“Not since I was a baby.”
“Which station?”
“Birmingham.”
“I know that, but which station?”
“Birmingham! Are there multiple stations or something?”
“You don't even know where you're meeting them? Yes, there are multiple stations.”
It turns out there were TWO stations, and we weren't going to either of them because Coventry was closer.
“How do you know her?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your friend. How did you meet?”
“We go to the same university.”
“Which university?”
This interrogation went on a while longer. Once she was convinced I actually did know the person with whom I had walked in, she finally opened my passport.
“So what happened in Barcelona?”
“I studied for six weeks.”
“What did you study?”
By this time I was really starting to get frustrated, so I was incredibly tempted to say “British-American relations” or make up story about a research project investigating the unique arrogance of island nations, but I complied and told the truth as I had done the entire time.
“You know I can deny you entry into this country?”
“Yes. Is there a problem?”
“Is there a problem? If I tried to enter the United States with a card like that, they'd turn 'round and put me straight back on the plane! Take a bit more care next time, mister Tyoos. Next!”
Eventually we'd made it through customs, but a few minutes after we sit down in the waiting area an announcement came over the speakers saying our plane had been delayed an hour because it had collided with someone on its way to our station. This delay, coupled with the later train, set us back about three hours from our perfect little plan, which incorporated a visit to Stonehenge on our way up to see the Murrays. We checked out the times once we arrived in London and realized that would be totally impossible. I won't drag this out any longer, except to give a little warning: just because the British national rail site calls the gap between two trains a “transfer” doesn't actually mean they're in the same station, or that they're on the same rail line, or that your British rail pass will work for either one. Due to problems like these, we ended up going straight to Coventry (on a slow train) and barely arriving in time for supper. Fortunately, our day took a 180 degree turn when we finally met the Murrays.
“Salt of the Earth” is far too light a compliment for these people. They were incredibly generous, witty, and hospitable in general. Bryan picked us up at Coventry station and explained the historical significance of nearly everything we saw on our drive in. They live in Temple Balsall, a tiny little retirement community built on what used to be a sort of commune for widows. Val showed us around after supper, and I took some really cool photos of the graveyard and meeting hall. I took so many pictures of the beams because some of them are from the 11th century. That building was built as a meeting place for the Knights Templar, and they're sure it was in active use for quite some time. Getting ahead of myself – we were served one of the best suppers I've had in a long time once we arrived at their home. She grew the lettuce and other veggies herself, the beef dish was delicious, and for desert we had a rhubarb pie a la mode. I was in heaven.
We stayed up and talked for awhile, then planned out the next day. We had breakfast and then Val took us to Coventry Cathedral. I'd been there in '04, but I really only remembered the huge etched window. I'd forgotten about the ruins, the stained glass, the unity chapel, the other small chapels, and the cross of nails. The community of the cross of nails is a worldwide organization of churches committed to peace and reconciliation in a post-WWII world. The Luftwaffe nearly flattened Coventry during the war, including the cathedral. It was rebuilt in what was then an incredibly modern and edgy style, though it certainly retains or changes many traditional elements of church architecture. Actually, the building it most closely resembles in my mind is our own Chapel of the Resurrection at Valpo. They're about the same size (at least the “shoebox” part) and they both have the large windows visible only from the front. They opened at around the same time, and Valpo is now a member of the Cross of Nails community, so I'm sure there had to be a few links between them. It was really interesting to Emily and me.
After Coventry, we went to London. We walked around for awhile, then caught another one of the “free” walking tours from New Europe. I'm sorry to say it, but I finally had a bad tour guide. She was a very smart but very awkward New Zealand girl, and while she was obviously trying very hard it wasn't the greatest tour I've ever had. There were plenty of long, uncomfortable moments, including song and dance with a group of complete strangers. That said, London is a really cool city. The tour started with the three palaces and ended near Westminster Abbey, so we saw quite a bit.
After the tour, we headed for the Saatchi Gallery. I remembered where it was from 2004 and I was really excited to see it (missed it last time). I looked and looked, asking 4 different people where it was. Finally the fourth one told me it had moved to another part of the city, thereby taking a shotgun to our plans for the day. Being musicians, we improvised a second walking tour down the Thames. We saw the modern art museum, the Globe Theater, London Bridge, Tower Bridge, and the Tower of London. Unfortunately the tower was closed by the time we got there, so we decided fish and chips overlooking the moat was the next best thing. We thought about looking for a show, but realized it would put us far too late in getting back to the Murrays. I showed Emily a few things on Picadilly circus and we hopped back on the train to Temple Balsall.
There's a lot more to England, and since then I've been to Germany (again), France (again), and come back to Barcelona, but right now I have to run! I'm really sorry about the lack of posts recently – this is the first time I've found a wifi signal with my computer since Paris. I'll get it all updated ASAP. Till then!
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