Day: November 21, 2001

Hot Sauna Action

Once I get back, remind me to tell you more about the Victorian-era Turkish bath Paul took me to today. It was in Carlisle, a little village just south of Scotland. Presumably some Americans have been to the area to see Hadrian’s Wall and such, but we’re pretty sure I’m the first one to make it into the bathhouse. Nothing unseemly, just a little bit of relaxing luxury that the local farmers (and the occasional working-class hottie of dubious sexual orientation) enjoy for a mere trifle. A fascinating new experience in social dynamics.

Later, we returned to Lancaster and enjoyed a lovely Christmas dinner. Tony prepared the roast potatoes and vegetarian turkey, Paul brought out his homemade Christmas crackers, and we wrapped it all up with some Christmas pudding and some more TV masterpieces of schadenfreude.

Quick Notes

A few quick items before I forget:

  • I’ve had my fill of squeezing into single beds for the time being. For the rest of the trip, I’m going to remind myself that I’m on vacation and my comfort and convenience are important, too.
  • This is the fightin’est town I’ve seen in a while. I’ve never seen so many black eyes on random people in my life. I suspect it may have a lot to do with the power-drinking that goes on before the pubs close so barbarically early.
  • Blackpool is pretty magnificent, even when mostly closed for the season. It has all the creepy, trashy, sweet charms of Coney Island or the run-down parts of the Jersey Shore. I say this without irony: I’m a total fan of midways and carnivals and skee-ball and low-brow amusement fun.
  • The American Midwest may be pretty flat, vast, and featureless, but for sheer lack of visual stimulus, it ain’t got nothing on England’s Midlands.
  • Are we at war or something? There was some big protest going on in London, and all these earnest-looking trendy kids were wearing “Stop the War’ stickers in the Tube. Shouldn’t they have been out doing their patriotic duty and shopping?
  • There are more cute boys here than you can shake a stick at, but there’s a sad lack of the hispter-nerd aesthetic I enjoy so much at home.
  • It’s the little difference that matter, like going to buy a sandwich at the train station and having to choose between ham/pickle/onion and bacon/mayo/prawn.
  • There will be lots of photographic evidence when I get back.