There! Here's a little summary of my trip to Liverpool and London I kind of promised to some people. I try to save you from the boring stuff and at the same time I'm exploiting my right to keep some of the details to myself. But this is pretty much how it happened...
I booked my plane tickets in April and did as little planning as possible and flew out on August 11.
Day 1. Wednesday. It's only just begun
I won't go into the details of a long and sleepless night coach to Riga Airport or the long waiting at the airport including some sleeping on the benches. Nor is it noteworthy to mention how I stood like an idiot at the security when trying to untangle my scarf from my necklaces for a few long minutes. Unlike it seemed to me in the past, there is nothing glamorous about airports. And on this trip I saw exactly how unglamorous those places really are...
The flight to Liverpool John Lennon Airport was not the most pleasant one I've had. I know it was Ryanair but I've experienced better flights with the same company. Anyway, I couldn't sleep much and it was a bumpy ride but we did land safely in Liverpool nearly 3 hours later. There I had an excellent chance to stand in a queue (first of many times during the trip) for about 45 minutes before I was able to have my passport checked.
But this where the annoying things ended. As I stepped out of the airport, I saw that the right bus was there waiting. I stepped on it and was quite content with myself. Well, that only lasted for about 2 minutes after which I realised I had no idea how to recognise my stop. The door to the panic department was slowly creeping open. Luckily two lovely ladies sat in front of me a few stops later and I managed to plug up the courage to ask them if they could tell me when my stop is. This was my first experience with the helpfulness and friendliness of Liverpudlians. Not only did the ladies tell me my stop, they also chatted about all sorts of stuff the whole way there. For example, both of them had seen The Beatles playing in The Cavern hundreds of times before they became famous (well, I suppose many people did that... but still...); Ringo Starr had lived a couple of streets away from them (beat that) and that Billy Fury had been to their school. I would have loved to go and have a cup of tea with those two and listen to their stories for hours but my stop came and I had to get off to find my hostel.
I checked in, threw my bags on the bed, saw that there were 2 other people in the same room but neither of them was in and I was out to discover the town. I remembered that there was a tourist information on Albert Dock and that was the way I was heading to... probably taking the longer route than normal but I made it there. I grabbed myself the map of the centre and then just walked around the docks. It was quite windy there but all of this was much welcomed change for the heat in Estonia. The Albert Dock was lovely with small cafes and museums and... I visited the museum that displayed a house during the war and chatted a bit with a lady who worked there.
After having spent some time at the docks, I decided to try and get lost a bit and just discover places. Both of these ideas were a success. The first day in Liverpool I was lost quite a lot of my time. To be honest, once I'm old and wrinkly and look back at my life, I can say that I have spent half of my life being lost. But I don't mind that... Anyway, somehow I did manage to find myself on Mathew Street and before I even realised where I was, I was standing in front of the door to The Cavern. I followed the music and was soon in that famous cellar listening to some guy with a guitar playing The Beatles. I really liked it. I stood there listening, dancing a bit with a young girl who seemed to have the Down syndrome. Since I had no plans, I decided to have a half a pint and stay there for a while. I won't mention that it was only 4pm. As I was looking around the place, a lovely old gentleman confessed that there are no sign of The Beatles in The Cavern anymore... only the ones that crawl on the floor. As much as I enjoyed the pun and partly I think he was right, I still really enjoyed the place.
After leaving The Cavern I decided to just walk around the town a bit, grab something to eat from my great friend Tesco and find someone who would be able to point my position on the map. The girl I approached kindly asked where I wanted to go but I had no idea. Like a true friendly Northerner, she helped the disorientated Estonian and I was good to go again. I decided to work out the route to my hostel. After some wrong turns and U-turns, I managed to find the bus stop where I needed to catch my coach to London on Friday and finally also my hostel.
I stepped inside my room and unintentionally woke up my roommates, two lovely Danish girls Nanna and Kristine. Despite disturbing their sleep, they were very friendly and in a few minutes we had made plans to go out together.
I then went to the kitchen to make some tea and there I met Pascual, a Spaniard who's also staying in the hostel. We started chatting and ended up talking for about an hour. Ja juttu jätkub kauemaks... (never mind). As good as it was to chat with Pascual, I dragged myself back to my room to see how the plans for the night were coming together. After resting for about an hour or a bit more, Nanna and Kristine, who had met Chris the German in the kitchen, were back and we prepared to go out all four of us.
According to Chris' suggestions and directed by our wish for some live music, we decided to go to a place called Heebie Jeebies. We grabbed some drinks (Kristine and I decided to have a pint of Guinness) and went to the cellar for the live music but hearing that it will still take about an hour before they start, we headed to the courtyard just to chat and drink. We were soon joined by an Estonian girl Anni whom Chris had met through CouchSurfing.com. Couch surfing became a kind of theme for the evening, especially after a man wrote a poem for us about it in five or less minutes. Anni and I discovered that we're both Estonians (it took us about half an hour... don't ask) and of course we also discovered mutual friends. We then headed back the cellar where several young musicians played. I liked a guy who looked like Jack Sparrow and had a really interesting voice. The five of us, 2 Danes, 2 Estonians and a German had a really cool evening and we went back to the hostel at about midnight. (I hadn't slept for nearly 2 days, so I was quite knackered; I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.)
Day 2. Thursday. I'll get by with a little help...
What a day! Nevertheless, I think it's wise to start from the beginning. We (the two Danes and I) woke up at about 9am, had a lovely breakfast and chat after which they checked out but before they left, we decided to go and see Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral. It's a modern catholic cathedral; I think (i.e. the Google says) it was finished in 1967. It was an awesome building (and I mean the word in the sense that I was awed by the size and splendour of it) but in my mind I just can't put together words modern and catholic. Something just doesn't fit...
After visiting the cathedral, I said good bye to Kristine and Nanna. Not good bye actually, it was more like see you soon because that I truly hope so. Just to illustrate how great they are, before we left the hostel, they remembered that the tickets to The Beatles museum are good for 48 hours and since they were there yesterday and were leaving for Scotland anyway, they gave me their tickets. Just like that. I was really flattered and promised to buy them drinks next time we meet.
The Beatles Story was the next stop on my tourist route in Liverpool. It's a museum dedicated to the Fabulous Four with each room dedicated to different phase in their career and the audio guide read by John Lennon's sister Julia picked with comments by other people and Macca told you all the necessary information. I really enjoyed my visit there; I'm not a huge fan of museums but somehow this one really got to me. I'm slightly ashamed to admit this but at one point my eyes were welling up. They were a true phenomena. How could a band be so huge? Amazing. (Although I'm not at all surprised that they were from Liverpool. I cannot think of any other place.)
I exited the museum and decided to go for the other building of it which was about a 5-minutes' walk away. That is if you know where to go. My progress was more like that: take two steps, stop, turn the map, look around with an extremely confused face and repeat. No wonder that at one point, a really laddish looking guy walked passed me, looked back and asked with a true concern in his voice, "Are you alright?" I was alright; just a bit disorientated. You know, the normal state of mind for me. Anyway and anyhow, I made it to the second building just in time for the Fab4 4D experience. Basically it was just a 15-minute cartoon with 3D glasses, shaking chairs and some water splashing in your face. But it was fun, no doubt.
The other thing in that part of the museum was an exhibition dedicated to John Lennon that was organised by his first wife Cynthia and his son Julian. It was really personal and simple and heart-warming. Once again I pretty much had tears in my eyes as I watched from the video Cynthia and Julian telling how Paul McCartney wrote the song Hey Jude to Julian. There were a lot of personal items of John and his gifts to his son. I felt really touched after leaving the place.
After that I just walked around the town a bit, made my way to St George's Hall which is a lovely Victorian building that is free for public access. I did a quick round there because museums really aren't my thing. For the same reasons I decided to skip The Walker Art Gallery and head out to discover the Liverpool Cathedral instead.
On my way there, I posted a card back home to my parents and walked in the garden of St Luke's Church which is a church in ruins after being bombed by the Germans during the Blitz. I then found my way to the cathedral. This time it was an Anglican cathedral and although it was only finished in 1978, it looked old and more like a cathedral in the sense we're used to. It's the largest cathedral in the UK and I can assure you, it is huge. Besides that it was absolutely breath-taking. I really must say that I'm a fan of churches but this one is surely amongst my favourites. I could have just sat down there and spend the day. It had beautiful stained-glass windows and the light coming through those painted the walls in different playful colours. I just don't have the words to describe that place and the feelings I had there. I also decided to light a candle just because it felt right...
After visiting the cathedral and taking a short walk in the park around it, I took the street lined with adorable Georgian houses back to the hostel to have something to eat and think about what to do in the evening. As the Danish girls and Chris the German weren't there anymore, I faced the possibility of going out alone. I took a little nap and decided then to have a quiet night: go see the river Mersey in the twilight, maybe have a drink somewhere and then get back to bed because I needed to get up early the next morning. I should have known better not to believe that plans like that really work...
On my way out of the hostel, I ran into Pascual, the Spaniard. He was also heading to town and we decided to go together. He was meeting some friends at the O'Neill's pub and I promised to stop by later to say good bye. So far, so good. It was quite magical by the river. It was low tide and the river was half the size. I took some pictures and headed to O'Neill's. There Pascual and his 2 Spanish friends had picked up 3 local girls. I had a cocktail and just chatted with everyone. After a while, the guys went out to eat and I asked if the girls would mind me staying with them to finish my drink. Christine, Clare and Zoe quite liked the idea of taking care of a stray Estonian tourist in their home town and decided to give me a proper night out. We left O'Neill's a started to go to some Australian bar that had a girls' night (I really can't remember its name at the moment) but on our way we stepped into Revolution where a band was starting to play. There I was announced that I had no say in things and that "I was drinking whatever they were drinking!" I have no idea how many shots I had at that bar but it's somewhere between 5 and 10. That's the closest I can get. After being loaded with a considerable amount of alcohol, we finally made it to the Aussie place where another cocktail appeared into my hands. We danced around, lost Clare, found Pascual, said bye to Zoe and then there were Christine and I. She decided to go home soon after that as well and I made sure she got to the taxi safely promising to write to her as soon as I'm back. Thus, I was the last one standing out of the three of them (to be honest, one of them was pregnant and didn't drink).
After that Pascual and I decided to look for some other places around where to go. I must admit that although I was the last one standing, I was still quite intoxicated by the spirits. So I have no idea what I was telling the poor lad that night; I only know that it was neither smart nor coherent. We finally went to Heebie Jeebies where they played 60s music and just danced, danced and danced. I made it back to my bed about 2.30am.
(Especially to Johanna: do you remember the night in Ireland when we went to Trinity and what happened after that? Well, it kind of happened again.)
Day 3. Friday. I've got a ticket to ride...
The morning, as you may or may not imagine, was not the most pleasant one (the short sleeping hours and the massive amount of alcohol...). Since my bus left at 9am, I somehow managed to get up before 8 o'clock... with a hangover. I managed to get through breakfast, said a few good words at the check-out and took Megabus to London. It was a 6-hour drive through rain and seven different shades of gray. But don't dismay, after the first 3 hours the hangover decided to get off, leaving me to suffer alone the boring drive.
I made it to London, Victoria station at about 3pm. After that I got hold of my precious Oyster Card so I could enjoy the full benefits of the lovely Tube, I headed to Turnpike Lane following the instructions sent by my host M. To my great surprise, I actually learnt that using the underground is incredibly easy and I managed to take the right trains and get off at the right stations. This also meant that I was where I was supposed to be a little too early. I called A. and he promised to meet me in a half an hour. To fill that lot, I grabbed a quick snack from good friend Tesco and tried not to look too lost.
A. showed up and led me to the right place, showed me around and gave me the keys. After refreshing myself a bit, I couldn't make myself to stay and took the Tube back to the heart of London and headed out to the most important tourist spots: Buckingham Place, Trafalgar Square, Westminster... After all, I needed to take some photos to show to the demanding crowd at home. There were a lot of people (read: tourists) flashing their cameras and making sure they manage to catch every single aspect of the famous landmarks. And I was among them. I walked around there for a couple of hours, making friends with the squirrels at St James' Park, before heading back to Turnpike Lane.
Before the crown princess of the underground, i.e. me, arrived back to M.'s place, I decided to grab something edible from the store. As I was paying for my goods, the cashier with huge hair (his hair was bigger than mine, and that's something!) just chatted with me which for me is quite a change from the half-forced "Hello" you get from most of the cashiers over here. Of course after exiting the store, I was once again a bit lost. I didn't quite remember which street I had to take but after walking for a while in the wrong direction I turned around and found the right street.
Doing my best to fight off Mr Sandman, I waited for M. to come home from work roundabout midnight. But as she arrived with 2 bottles of beer, it was a while before we got to bed to sleep because there was a lot of catching up to do. Last time I saw her was quite a couple of years ago at Stansted Airport...
Day 4. Saturday. A fine day in London Town...
I had decided to be a culturally aware tourist on that fine day, i.e. my first stop was to be the British Museum. I got off at Russell Square and after a bit of mandatory feeling of confusion and disorientation, I made it to the building. My first visit was the lavatories and I'm only mentioning it because there was one of the most noteworthy things about the museum (the following probably just proves how un-fan of museums I am): Tyson Airblade hand drier. Just to explain myself, I have been listening to (old) BBC6 Music's radio shows with the brilliant Russell Howard and Jon Richardson (cf my last post) and the latter is a great fan of hand driers and the Airblade is his favourite; thus, it is often mentioned and often causes great debates between people. And now there's me, in the big awesome (i.e. eliciting feelings of awe) British Museum, being able to use this wondrous thing. I must admit, I actually giggled at the toilet just at the thought of it. Nearly took a picture...(not really!)
Nevertheless, I understand completely how culturally important this museum is. Really, I do. The Elgin marbles and what not... But for this half-witted English philologist, there is only so much of my time I can spend staring at old stones. In the end, next to the Airblade, the most interesting part of the museum for me was the Enlightenment exhibition where there were loads of old books: Donne, Spencer and even our great friend Tennyson's Idylls of the King (greetings to Ms Rajamäe).
After that I had arranged a meeting with my gorgeous and brilliant friend and course mate Liisa. She told me to come to Bethnal Green, which is (as she informed me) a very hip artists' quarter that has not yet been spoilt by commercialism. We tried to find a certain gallery but failed and instead decided to sit down in a place with good music and have a drink. After that we walked towards Brick Lane and she showed me some lovely cafés and what not. I really, really enjoyed this walk around there mainly because this was away from the landmarks and not written about in the tourist books. Just a bit of almost genuine London.
After that we headed towards Tate Modern (I know what you're thinking, yet another museum, Eeva?) and I was lucky to have Liisa with me because she unlike me she knows and loves art, so I didn't have to face this strange world alone. She showed me some of her favourite artists and then we just sat at the café enjoying the view to St Paul's cathedral.
After I had sent Liisa to work I came back to the Tate and had a look at a few other artists/paintings. As I came out of the museum, it was my plan to walk along the river to the Tower Bridge and take some obligatory photos for the dearly beloved at home. And so I did. I walked pass the Globe and smiled in the memory of my good friend Will. The weather was really nice and I truly enjoyed the walk by the Themes. I made it to the Tower Bridge, crossed it and walked back along the River Side Walk to Westminster Palace and back to Green Park to take the tube back home.
What comes next might sound quite bland and unoriginal but I had lots of time to think as I was walking and I think I made peace with the world in my mind there and then. I had the chance to think through quite a few things that had been in my mind for very long time... (Just jumping into today, i.e. September, then I can admit that it wasn't really a peace, more like a truce that has been broken... This is war or something.)
Arriving back to Turnpike Lane I had a lovely evening with M. and A. drinking wine and laughing-talking.
Day 5. Sunday. Personal GPS
I guess I need to finish this post once and for all. Here we go then...
I had a noble plan to see some markets on that day, so I met up with Pascual who had also come down to London for a few days at Liverpool Station and went to look for the market L. had pointed at the day before. This might sound quite incredible but even with my sense of direction, I was able to find this nice little market and look around. As I'm a very bad shopper and I really wasn't looking for anything in particular, I didn't buy anything.
We then headed to the most famous and popular market in the capital of London, Camden Town. I really liked it there, all sorts of more and less freaky stuff. I found a stall that sold old books and I almost got my hopes up in finding Sterne's Tristram Shandy but alas, I was not meant to be for me to be united with that novel just yet (of course, I could just go into the university book shop and get it but it wouldn't be the same, really). And once again, I didn't really go there with the intention to buy anything, so I left empty handed.
We then took a Tube back to the heart of London and went to Hyde Park just far a walk and to lie down. The weather was absolutely beautiful and warm, so the little siesta was much welcomed. I must admit that I actually managed to fall asleep there on the grass. This whole trip taught me to sleep in all sorts of conditions, Hyde Park was just one of them.
After staying there for a few hours, we decided to walk to Oxford Street and Picadilly Circus (with Pascual leading the way and then stopping after 10 minutes because he'd no idea where he was. Then I got out my map and used my wonderful topographical skills, and we made it to the right place!). We again walked near Westminster and sat at Traffalgar Square, talked and argued and made plans to go to Windsor the next day. I made it back to Turnpike Lane just a little before M. arrived early from her job.
Day 6. Monday. Royal fun
It had been my plan since I started planning this trip to visit Windsor and Windsor castle. I remembered that Jo and Kriss loved that place, so I thought that there might be something in there for me as well.
So, on Monday morning I made it to the Paddington station (it will always remind me of a children's book I really loved when I was little about Paddington bear that who was found from that station and named after it by the family that adopted it) and got myself tickets to Windsor even. The train ride was only about 30 minutes but we got to change trains in between. Exciting because there's always the possibility of not making it on the (right) train. Except there really isn't. So we made it to Windsor without any troubles. As we were making it to the castle, we also witnessed the change of the guards. After queuing for a while, we made it to the castle and got our audio guides. The Prince of Wales made his kind greetings and off we went to discover the castle. I really loved it. Something so genuinely English. And I must admit, that I really liked the audio guide as well (with trying to remember bits and pieces from British history - once again, greetings to Ms Rajamäe).
We spent quite a few hours in the castle and the abbey and gardens, after which we walked around Windsor for a bit and I found a shop that sold fudge. I managed to get my parents also like this sweet, sweet British delight, so I had strict orders to bring some back home.
We catched a train back to Paddington and I said bye to Pascual who was leaving for the North and went to M.'s work place in the Italian restaurant. She fed me some delicious bread with mozzarella, basil and tomato sauce (oh, I could do with some of those right now... mmm). Since she had a free evening, we thought we should do something. After a bit of shopping, we went home, changed and headed out to Camden Town to have sushi. I'd never had sushi before, so I was quite excited about that. I'm not sure if it was a particularily good Japanese restaurant but I loved the food there, just delicious. Especially when accompanied by some plum wine.
After dinner, we didn't feel like going home just yet, so we went to a bar to have a few coctails and just talk. We did, however, manage to catch the last train home and went to bed.
Day 7. Tuesday. She's leaving...
As it was my last day in England, and M. had a day off, we both decided to stay in the area. I did some "gift" shopping, that is I bought a load of chocolate and other sweets to take with me home. We also went to see a few flats, as M. was looking for a new place to stay. I'm now glad to know that she's moved into one of the flats that we went to see.
M. was so great to cook a dinner before I left. She grilled some chicken with aubergine and tomatos together with rice. A. also came, so we had a nice evening with some wine and Vana Tallinn and at about 10 pm I said my good byes and left to catch my bus to Stansted.
I had to wait for about 45 min at the Baker Street bus stop for an EasyBus to take me to the airport. On the bus I talked a few words with a Chech couple (whom I saw several times at Stansted in the next few hours; everywhere I went, there they or one of them was). As soon as I arrived at the airport I started to look for a place to sleep for a few hours. Since all the benches were taken, then I settled for the floor next to a post, so I almost had a cave where I could just lie down. I didn't expect to sleep actually, but to my great surprise, I managed to sleep nearly two hours before some airport officials started waking everyone up. The time was already okay for me to go through security (no problems there, phew!), have some hot chocolate at Starbuck (a slight dejà vu...) and then queue for boarding. I slept most of my flight sleeping, waking only to buy some juice and when the captain announce that we'll be landing in 15 minutes.
Day 8. Almost home..
Arriving in Riga meant that I was almost at home. I only needed to catch a bus to the train station and then a train back to Estonia. Incredibly, the lady at the information desk at the airport spoke fluent English (I've had some fun with that in Riga airport) and I managed to catch the bus and get off at the right stop, buy myself train tickets and then wait for nearly 3 hours for my train.
The train ride was quite funny, because I kept dozing off and then waking up at every stop with a sudden fear that I've missed mine (which is a bit irrational because I was to get off at the last stop and there's no way that Latvian ticket inspector would have left me on the train). So, three hours later I'm back on the Estonian soil. A short bus ride from Valga to Tartu and I'm back in my dorm room and could finally have a shower before my sister and cousin were to join me for a nice evening with some glasses of wine only to leave for family reunion the very next morning...
So, there, this is my trip summed up just as good or bad as it is. All in all, I loved every second of it. It taught me so much about myself and assured me what a great experience it is to travel all by myself. I'd surely do it again... In fact, Manchester is waiting for me in a little more than a month...
I booked my plane tickets in April and did as little planning as possible and flew out on August 11.
Day 1. Wednesday. It's only just begun
I won't go into the details of a long and sleepless night coach to Riga Airport or the long waiting at the airport including some sleeping on the benches. Nor is it noteworthy to mention how I stood like an idiot at the security when trying to untangle my scarf from my necklaces for a few long minutes. Unlike it seemed to me in the past, there is nothing glamorous about airports. And on this trip I saw exactly how unglamorous those places really are...
The flight to Liverpool John Lennon Airport was not the most pleasant one I've had. I know it was Ryanair but I've experienced better flights with the same company. Anyway, I couldn't sleep much and it was a bumpy ride but we did land safely in Liverpool nearly 3 hours later. There I had an excellent chance to stand in a queue (first of many times during the trip) for about 45 minutes before I was able to have my passport checked.
But this where the annoying things ended. As I stepped out of the airport, I saw that the right bus was there waiting. I stepped on it and was quite content with myself. Well, that only lasted for about 2 minutes after which I realised I had no idea how to recognise my stop. The door to the panic department was slowly creeping open. Luckily two lovely ladies sat in front of me a few stops later and I managed to plug up the courage to ask them if they could tell me when my stop is. This was my first experience with the helpfulness and friendliness of Liverpudlians. Not only did the ladies tell me my stop, they also chatted about all sorts of stuff the whole way there. For example, both of them had seen The Beatles playing in The Cavern hundreds of times before they became famous (well, I suppose many people did that... but still...); Ringo Starr had lived a couple of streets away from them (beat that) and that Billy Fury had been to their school. I would have loved to go and have a cup of tea with those two and listen to their stories for hours but my stop came and I had to get off to find my hostel.
I checked in, threw my bags on the bed, saw that there were 2 other people in the same room but neither of them was in and I was out to discover the town. I remembered that there was a tourist information on Albert Dock and that was the way I was heading to... probably taking the longer route than normal but I made it there. I grabbed myself the map of the centre and then just walked around the docks. It was quite windy there but all of this was much welcomed change for the heat in Estonia. The Albert Dock was lovely with small cafes and museums and... I visited the museum that displayed a house during the war and chatted a bit with a lady who worked there.
After having spent some time at the docks, I decided to try and get lost a bit and just discover places. Both of these ideas were a success. The first day in Liverpool I was lost quite a lot of my time. To be honest, once I'm old and wrinkly and look back at my life, I can say that I have spent half of my life being lost. But I don't mind that... Anyway, somehow I did manage to find myself on Mathew Street and before I even realised where I was, I was standing in front of the door to The Cavern. I followed the music and was soon in that famous cellar listening to some guy with a guitar playing The Beatles. I really liked it. I stood there listening, dancing a bit with a young girl who seemed to have the Down syndrome. Since I had no plans, I decided to have a half a pint and stay there for a while. I won't mention that it was only 4pm. As I was looking around the place, a lovely old gentleman confessed that there are no sign of The Beatles in The Cavern anymore... only the ones that crawl on the floor. As much as I enjoyed the pun and partly I think he was right, I still really enjoyed the place.
After leaving The Cavern I decided to just walk around the town a bit, grab something to eat from my great friend Tesco and find someone who would be able to point my position on the map. The girl I approached kindly asked where I wanted to go but I had no idea. Like a true friendly Northerner, she helped the disorientated Estonian and I was good to go again. I decided to work out the route to my hostel. After some wrong turns and U-turns, I managed to find the bus stop where I needed to catch my coach to London on Friday and finally also my hostel.
I stepped inside my room and unintentionally woke up my roommates, two lovely Danish girls Nanna and Kristine. Despite disturbing their sleep, they were very friendly and in a few minutes we had made plans to go out together.
I then went to the kitchen to make some tea and there I met Pascual, a Spaniard who's also staying in the hostel. We started chatting and ended up talking for about an hour. Ja juttu jätkub kauemaks... (never mind). As good as it was to chat with Pascual, I dragged myself back to my room to see how the plans for the night were coming together. After resting for about an hour or a bit more, Nanna and Kristine, who had met Chris the German in the kitchen, were back and we prepared to go out all four of us.
According to Chris' suggestions and directed by our wish for some live music, we decided to go to a place called Heebie Jeebies. We grabbed some drinks (Kristine and I decided to have a pint of Guinness) and went to the cellar for the live music but hearing that it will still take about an hour before they start, we headed to the courtyard just to chat and drink. We were soon joined by an Estonian girl Anni whom Chris had met through CouchSurfing.com. Couch surfing became a kind of theme for the evening, especially after a man wrote a poem for us about it in five or less minutes. Anni and I discovered that we're both Estonians (it took us about half an hour... don't ask) and of course we also discovered mutual friends. We then headed back the cellar where several young musicians played. I liked a guy who looked like Jack Sparrow and had a really interesting voice. The five of us, 2 Danes, 2 Estonians and a German had a really cool evening and we went back to the hostel at about midnight. (I hadn't slept for nearly 2 days, so I was quite knackered; I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.)
Day 2. Thursday. I'll get by with a little help...
What a day! Nevertheless, I think it's wise to start from the beginning. We (the two Danes and I) woke up at about 9am, had a lovely breakfast and chat after which they checked out but before they left, we decided to go and see Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral. It's a modern catholic cathedral; I think (i.e. the Google says) it was finished in 1967. It was an awesome building (and I mean the word in the sense that I was awed by the size and splendour of it) but in my mind I just can't put together words modern and catholic. Something just doesn't fit...
After visiting the cathedral, I said good bye to Kristine and Nanna. Not good bye actually, it was more like see you soon because that I truly hope so. Just to illustrate how great they are, before we left the hostel, they remembered that the tickets to The Beatles museum are good for 48 hours and since they were there yesterday and were leaving for Scotland anyway, they gave me their tickets. Just like that. I was really flattered and promised to buy them drinks next time we meet.
The Beatles Story was the next stop on my tourist route in Liverpool. It's a museum dedicated to the Fabulous Four with each room dedicated to different phase in their career and the audio guide read by John Lennon's sister Julia picked with comments by other people and Macca told you all the necessary information. I really enjoyed my visit there; I'm not a huge fan of museums but somehow this one really got to me. I'm slightly ashamed to admit this but at one point my eyes were welling up. They were a true phenomena. How could a band be so huge? Amazing. (Although I'm not at all surprised that they were from Liverpool. I cannot think of any other place.)
I exited the museum and decided to go for the other building of it which was about a 5-minutes' walk away. That is if you know where to go. My progress was more like that: take two steps, stop, turn the map, look around with an extremely confused face and repeat. No wonder that at one point, a really laddish looking guy walked passed me, looked back and asked with a true concern in his voice, "Are you alright?" I was alright; just a bit disorientated. You know, the normal state of mind for me. Anyway and anyhow, I made it to the second building just in time for the Fab4 4D experience. Basically it was just a 15-minute cartoon with 3D glasses, shaking chairs and some water splashing in your face. But it was fun, no doubt.
The other thing in that part of the museum was an exhibition dedicated to John Lennon that was organised by his first wife Cynthia and his son Julian. It was really personal and simple and heart-warming. Once again I pretty much had tears in my eyes as I watched from the video Cynthia and Julian telling how Paul McCartney wrote the song Hey Jude to Julian. There were a lot of personal items of John and his gifts to his son. I felt really touched after leaving the place.
After that I just walked around the town a bit, made my way to St George's Hall which is a lovely Victorian building that is free for public access. I did a quick round there because museums really aren't my thing. For the same reasons I decided to skip The Walker Art Gallery and head out to discover the Liverpool Cathedral instead.
On my way there, I posted a card back home to my parents and walked in the garden of St Luke's Church which is a church in ruins after being bombed by the Germans during the Blitz. I then found my way to the cathedral. This time it was an Anglican cathedral and although it was only finished in 1978, it looked old and more like a cathedral in the sense we're used to. It's the largest cathedral in the UK and I can assure you, it is huge. Besides that it was absolutely breath-taking. I really must say that I'm a fan of churches but this one is surely amongst my favourites. I could have just sat down there and spend the day. It had beautiful stained-glass windows and the light coming through those painted the walls in different playful colours. I just don't have the words to describe that place and the feelings I had there. I also decided to light a candle just because it felt right...
After visiting the cathedral and taking a short walk in the park around it, I took the street lined with adorable Georgian houses back to the hostel to have something to eat and think about what to do in the evening. As the Danish girls and Chris the German weren't there anymore, I faced the possibility of going out alone. I took a little nap and decided then to have a quiet night: go see the river Mersey in the twilight, maybe have a drink somewhere and then get back to bed because I needed to get up early the next morning. I should have known better not to believe that plans like that really work...
On my way out of the hostel, I ran into Pascual, the Spaniard. He was also heading to town and we decided to go together. He was meeting some friends at the O'Neill's pub and I promised to stop by later to say good bye. So far, so good. It was quite magical by the river. It was low tide and the river was half the size. I took some pictures and headed to O'Neill's. There Pascual and his 2 Spanish friends had picked up 3 local girls. I had a cocktail and just chatted with everyone. After a while, the guys went out to eat and I asked if the girls would mind me staying with them to finish my drink. Christine, Clare and Zoe quite liked the idea of taking care of a stray Estonian tourist in their home town and decided to give me a proper night out. We left O'Neill's a started to go to some Australian bar that had a girls' night (I really can't remember its name at the moment) but on our way we stepped into Revolution where a band was starting to play. There I was announced that I had no say in things and that "I was drinking whatever they were drinking!" I have no idea how many shots I had at that bar but it's somewhere between 5 and 10. That's the closest I can get. After being loaded with a considerable amount of alcohol, we finally made it to the Aussie place where another cocktail appeared into my hands. We danced around, lost Clare, found Pascual, said bye to Zoe and then there were Christine and I. She decided to go home soon after that as well and I made sure she got to the taxi safely promising to write to her as soon as I'm back. Thus, I was the last one standing out of the three of them (to be honest, one of them was pregnant and didn't drink).
After that Pascual and I decided to look for some other places around where to go. I must admit that although I was the last one standing, I was still quite intoxicated by the spirits. So I have no idea what I was telling the poor lad that night; I only know that it was neither smart nor coherent. We finally went to Heebie Jeebies where they played 60s music and just danced, danced and danced. I made it back to my bed about 2.30am.
(Especially to Johanna: do you remember the night in Ireland when we went to Trinity and what happened after that? Well, it kind of happened again.)
Day 3. Friday. I've got a ticket to ride...
The morning, as you may or may not imagine, was not the most pleasant one (the short sleeping hours and the massive amount of alcohol...). Since my bus left at 9am, I somehow managed to get up before 8 o'clock... with a hangover. I managed to get through breakfast, said a few good words at the check-out and took Megabus to London. It was a 6-hour drive through rain and seven different shades of gray. But don't dismay, after the first 3 hours the hangover decided to get off, leaving me to suffer alone the boring drive.
I made it to London, Victoria station at about 3pm. After that I got hold of my precious Oyster Card so I could enjoy the full benefits of the lovely Tube, I headed to Turnpike Lane following the instructions sent by my host M. To my great surprise, I actually learnt that using the underground is incredibly easy and I managed to take the right trains and get off at the right stations. This also meant that I was where I was supposed to be a little too early. I called A. and he promised to meet me in a half an hour. To fill that lot, I grabbed a quick snack from good friend Tesco and tried not to look too lost.
A. showed up and led me to the right place, showed me around and gave me the keys. After refreshing myself a bit, I couldn't make myself to stay and took the Tube back to the heart of London and headed out to the most important tourist spots: Buckingham Place, Trafalgar Square, Westminster... After all, I needed to take some photos to show to the demanding crowd at home. There were a lot of people (read: tourists) flashing their cameras and making sure they manage to catch every single aspect of the famous landmarks. And I was among them. I walked around there for a couple of hours, making friends with the squirrels at St James' Park, before heading back to Turnpike Lane.
Before the crown princess of the underground, i.e. me, arrived back to M.'s place, I decided to grab something edible from the store. As I was paying for my goods, the cashier with huge hair (his hair was bigger than mine, and that's something!) just chatted with me which for me is quite a change from the half-forced "Hello" you get from most of the cashiers over here. Of course after exiting the store, I was once again a bit lost. I didn't quite remember which street I had to take but after walking for a while in the wrong direction I turned around and found the right street.
Doing my best to fight off Mr Sandman, I waited for M. to come home from work roundabout midnight. But as she arrived with 2 bottles of beer, it was a while before we got to bed to sleep because there was a lot of catching up to do. Last time I saw her was quite a couple of years ago at Stansted Airport...
Day 4. Saturday. A fine day in London Town...
I had decided to be a culturally aware tourist on that fine day, i.e. my first stop was to be the British Museum. I got off at Russell Square and after a bit of mandatory feeling of confusion and disorientation, I made it to the building. My first visit was the lavatories and I'm only mentioning it because there was one of the most noteworthy things about the museum (the following probably just proves how un-fan of museums I am): Tyson Airblade hand drier. Just to explain myself, I have been listening to (old) BBC6 Music's radio shows with the brilliant Russell Howard and Jon Richardson (cf my last post) and the latter is a great fan of hand driers and the Airblade is his favourite; thus, it is often mentioned and often causes great debates between people. And now there's me, in the big awesome (i.e. eliciting feelings of awe) British Museum, being able to use this wondrous thing. I must admit, I actually giggled at the toilet just at the thought of it. Nearly took a picture...(not really!)
Nevertheless, I understand completely how culturally important this museum is. Really, I do. The Elgin marbles and what not... But for this half-witted English philologist, there is only so much of my time I can spend staring at old stones. In the end, next to the Airblade, the most interesting part of the museum for me was the Enlightenment exhibition where there were loads of old books: Donne, Spencer and even our great friend Tennyson's Idylls of the King (greetings to Ms Rajamäe).
After that I had arranged a meeting with my gorgeous and brilliant friend and course mate Liisa. She told me to come to Bethnal Green, which is (as she informed me) a very hip artists' quarter that has not yet been spoilt by commercialism. We tried to find a certain gallery but failed and instead decided to sit down in a place with good music and have a drink. After that we walked towards Brick Lane and she showed me some lovely cafés and what not. I really, really enjoyed this walk around there mainly because this was away from the landmarks and not written about in the tourist books. Just a bit of almost genuine London.
After that we headed towards Tate Modern (I know what you're thinking, yet another museum, Eeva?) and I was lucky to have Liisa with me because she unlike me she knows and loves art, so I didn't have to face this strange world alone. She showed me some of her favourite artists and then we just sat at the café enjoying the view to St Paul's cathedral.
After I had sent Liisa to work I came back to the Tate and had a look at a few other artists/paintings. As I came out of the museum, it was my plan to walk along the river to the Tower Bridge and take some obligatory photos for the dearly beloved at home. And so I did. I walked pass the Globe and smiled in the memory of my good friend Will. The weather was really nice and I truly enjoyed the walk by the Themes. I made it to the Tower Bridge, crossed it and walked back along the River Side Walk to Westminster Palace and back to Green Park to take the tube back home.
What comes next might sound quite bland and unoriginal but I had lots of time to think as I was walking and I think I made peace with the world in my mind there and then. I had the chance to think through quite a few things that had been in my mind for very long time... (Just jumping into today, i.e. September, then I can admit that it wasn't really a peace, more like a truce that has been broken... This is war or something.)
Arriving back to Turnpike Lane I had a lovely evening with M. and A. drinking wine and laughing-talking.
Day 5. Sunday. Personal GPS
I guess I need to finish this post once and for all. Here we go then...
I had a noble plan to see some markets on that day, so I met up with Pascual who had also come down to London for a few days at Liverpool Station and went to look for the market L. had pointed at the day before. This might sound quite incredible but even with my sense of direction, I was able to find this nice little market and look around. As I'm a very bad shopper and I really wasn't looking for anything in particular, I didn't buy anything.
We then headed to the most famous and popular market in the capital of London, Camden Town. I really liked it there, all sorts of more and less freaky stuff. I found a stall that sold old books and I almost got my hopes up in finding Sterne's Tristram Shandy but alas, I was not meant to be for me to be united with that novel just yet (of course, I could just go into the university book shop and get it but it wouldn't be the same, really). And once again, I didn't really go there with the intention to buy anything, so I left empty handed.
We then took a Tube back to the heart of London and went to Hyde Park just far a walk and to lie down. The weather was absolutely beautiful and warm, so the little siesta was much welcomed. I must admit that I actually managed to fall asleep there on the grass. This whole trip taught me to sleep in all sorts of conditions, Hyde Park was just one of them.
After staying there for a few hours, we decided to walk to Oxford Street and Picadilly Circus (with Pascual leading the way and then stopping after 10 minutes because he'd no idea where he was. Then I got out my map and used my wonderful topographical skills, and we made it to the right place!). We again walked near Westminster and sat at Traffalgar Square, talked and argued and made plans to go to Windsor the next day. I made it back to Turnpike Lane just a little before M. arrived early from her job.
Day 6. Monday. Royal fun
It had been my plan since I started planning this trip to visit Windsor and Windsor castle. I remembered that Jo and Kriss loved that place, so I thought that there might be something in there for me as well.
So, on Monday morning I made it to the Paddington station (it will always remind me of a children's book I really loved when I was little about Paddington bear that who was found from that station and named after it by the family that adopted it) and got myself tickets to Windsor even. The train ride was only about 30 minutes but we got to change trains in between. Exciting because there's always the possibility of not making it on the (right) train. Except there really isn't. So we made it to Windsor without any troubles. As we were making it to the castle, we also witnessed the change of the guards. After queuing for a while, we made it to the castle and got our audio guides. The Prince of Wales made his kind greetings and off we went to discover the castle. I really loved it. Something so genuinely English. And I must admit, that I really liked the audio guide as well (with trying to remember bits and pieces from British history - once again, greetings to Ms Rajamäe).
We spent quite a few hours in the castle and the abbey and gardens, after which we walked around Windsor for a bit and I found a shop that sold fudge. I managed to get my parents also like this sweet, sweet British delight, so I had strict orders to bring some back home.
We catched a train back to Paddington and I said bye to Pascual who was leaving for the North and went to M.'s work place in the Italian restaurant. She fed me some delicious bread with mozzarella, basil and tomato sauce (oh, I could do with some of those right now... mmm). Since she had a free evening, we thought we should do something. After a bit of shopping, we went home, changed and headed out to Camden Town to have sushi. I'd never had sushi before, so I was quite excited about that. I'm not sure if it was a particularily good Japanese restaurant but I loved the food there, just delicious. Especially when accompanied by some plum wine.
After dinner, we didn't feel like going home just yet, so we went to a bar to have a few coctails and just talk. We did, however, manage to catch the last train home and went to bed.
Day 7. Tuesday. She's leaving...
As it was my last day in England, and M. had a day off, we both decided to stay in the area. I did some "gift" shopping, that is I bought a load of chocolate and other sweets to take with me home. We also went to see a few flats, as M. was looking for a new place to stay. I'm now glad to know that she's moved into one of the flats that we went to see.
M. was so great to cook a dinner before I left. She grilled some chicken with aubergine and tomatos together with rice. A. also came, so we had a nice evening with some wine and Vana Tallinn and at about 10 pm I said my good byes and left to catch my bus to Stansted.
I had to wait for about 45 min at the Baker Street bus stop for an EasyBus to take me to the airport. On the bus I talked a few words with a Chech couple (whom I saw several times at Stansted in the next few hours; everywhere I went, there they or one of them was). As soon as I arrived at the airport I started to look for a place to sleep for a few hours. Since all the benches were taken, then I settled for the floor next to a post, so I almost had a cave where I could just lie down. I didn't expect to sleep actually, but to my great surprise, I managed to sleep nearly two hours before some airport officials started waking everyone up. The time was already okay for me to go through security (no problems there, phew!), have some hot chocolate at Starbuck (a slight dejà vu...) and then queue for boarding. I slept most of my flight sleeping, waking only to buy some juice and when the captain announce that we'll be landing in 15 minutes.
Day 8. Almost home..
Arriving in Riga meant that I was almost at home. I only needed to catch a bus to the train station and then a train back to Estonia. Incredibly, the lady at the information desk at the airport spoke fluent English (I've had some fun with that in Riga airport) and I managed to catch the bus and get off at the right stop, buy myself train tickets and then wait for nearly 3 hours for my train.
The train ride was quite funny, because I kept dozing off and then waking up at every stop with a sudden fear that I've missed mine (which is a bit irrational because I was to get off at the last stop and there's no way that Latvian ticket inspector would have left me on the train). So, three hours later I'm back on the Estonian soil. A short bus ride from Valga to Tartu and I'm back in my dorm room and could finally have a shower before my sister and cousin were to join me for a nice evening with some glasses of wine only to leave for family reunion the very next morning...
So, there, this is my trip summed up just as good or bad as it is. All in all, I loved every second of it. It taught me so much about myself and assured me what a great experience it is to travel all by myself. I'd surely do it again... In fact, Manchester is waiting for me in a little more than a month...
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