Trains
It's happened again. Well not exactly like before, much smoother than before but still not the sailing that I had had in mind. The plan was a nice relaxing day at the beaches of Brighton. We arrive at the station only to discover that there would be no train service to brighton all day. Dismayed we examine our options. First would be to take the bus to brighton but it met with less then good reception. Second was to take the day and spend it in the city seeing the sites that we've been ignoring all year. Thirdly was to find an alternate destination. We discussed the options and gauged each other's reactions and decided that Castle Leeds in Kent would be a good decission. Turns out the tickets are only 6.18 which was a bonus, but the train was leaving momentarily. We reach the platform only to find little more then nothing, at least no train. We then hope on the next train that comes along only to quickly realize that it's going no where near Kent. The train hits the end of the line an hour later in a place called Gillianham(I think). We get off. Someone then points us towards the other platform telling us that it'll get us near the coast, never mind that our destination wasn't really on the coast. After deliberation it's decided that Cantebury would be our destination having gotten turned around from Kent. It then occurs to us as we near the station that really our tickets say "Kent" and not Cantebury east. The problem was quickly resolved when we find the gates open. We check out Cantebury. I know this story isn't nearly as random and mystifying as the last train experience but I still think it's not without it's amusement, if only for the fact that it's further evidence that the train companies are out to confuse me. The return was fairly uneventful, although there was a run in with a ticket man who agreed that we were very lost and even though alluded to some sort of reprocutions did nothing.
Cantebury was beautiful. It's a very lovely little city and I recommend it to anyone with the chance. If this damned browser where worth it's salt I would be able to show you. However, microsoft is always looking to screw me over and by extention you, so you'll have to accept my shimmering prose and illuminating poetry instead.
We saw a Norman Castle. It was really cool, crazy to think that such things you read about and imagine in history actually exist. It was constructed in the 11th Century, 11th!!! very cool(how's that for descriptive?) We continued on though the town, towards the cathedral. It was in the Dane John park that we ran into our first Cantebury-half-wit. He was very nice offering to take our pictures and such, but he wouldn't really go away. He was a young boy of about 13, wearing grey track pants and carrying a purple ball which he would run along the top of the fence guarding a garden bordering the path. He had very dirty hands. After finally convincing him that we were not in need of his assistance and his examining of my friend's camera he left ahead of us. We continued on our way. All three of us in various states of returning to sobriety we decide that food would be elemental to our pilgrimage. We find a nice wetherspoon's(a pub chain in england) and stopped for some chow. Over here, if you're not familiar, you need to order at the bar and then they'll bring the food to you. So my companions take my order and head to the bar where they meet the second cantebury-half-wit. It took him about twenty minutes to take the order, and in mixing our drinks created a bloody mary with tonic water(don't ask, I don't know. All I know is that it was truly a crime against humanity). Two of the plates came quickly but the other two for some reason were placed under a heat lamp while we waited patiently for 45 min. They came only after I pursuaded my friend (the least sober of the bunch) to inquire. This was met with more confusion on the part of the three waitresses all of whom gave us different stories. One said the order was never taken, one with no idea of what was going on(the guy who made the bloody mary), and one who promptly brought us our meals.
We finished our heatlamp-dried meals and left. Across the street was a tea shop est. 1558 the curious little building was bowed and crooked with a very small door. We continued towards the cathedral. I just think it's crazy the history here. Approacing the cathedral we walked through a parking lot where the third half-wit, the parking attendant, eyed us with more then disturbing "I'm going to kill you all and eat your livers" look.
I cannot call myself a religious man, but to gaze upon such a structure and walk with such walls is incredible. Such a powerful place it is. The faith and emotion of all those who worked to designe and contruct it seems to just emminate from every particle. It lead me to thoughts about religion and how twisted the Christian faith really is. I'm getting tired now. Night
Cantebury was beautiful. It's a very lovely little city and I recommend it to anyone with the chance. If this damned browser where worth it's salt I would be able to show you. However, microsoft is always looking to screw me over and by extention you, so you'll have to accept my shimmering prose and illuminating poetry instead.
We saw a Norman Castle. It was really cool, crazy to think that such things you read about and imagine in history actually exist. It was constructed in the 11th Century, 11th!!! very cool(how's that for descriptive?) We continued on though the town, towards the cathedral. It was in the Dane John park that we ran into our first Cantebury-half-wit. He was very nice offering to take our pictures and such, but he wouldn't really go away. He was a young boy of about 13, wearing grey track pants and carrying a purple ball which he would run along the top of the fence guarding a garden bordering the path. He had very dirty hands. After finally convincing him that we were not in need of his assistance and his examining of my friend's camera he left ahead of us. We continued on our way. All three of us in various states of returning to sobriety we decide that food would be elemental to our pilgrimage. We find a nice wetherspoon's(a pub chain in england) and stopped for some chow. Over here, if you're not familiar, you need to order at the bar and then they'll bring the food to you. So my companions take my order and head to the bar where they meet the second cantebury-half-wit. It took him about twenty minutes to take the order, and in mixing our drinks created a bloody mary with tonic water(don't ask, I don't know. All I know is that it was truly a crime against humanity). Two of the plates came quickly but the other two for some reason were placed under a heat lamp while we waited patiently for 45 min. They came only after I pursuaded my friend (the least sober of the bunch) to inquire. This was met with more confusion on the part of the three waitresses all of whom gave us different stories. One said the order was never taken, one with no idea of what was going on(the guy who made the bloody mary), and one who promptly brought us our meals.
We finished our heatlamp-dried meals and left. Across the street was a tea shop est. 1558 the curious little building was bowed and crooked with a very small door. We continued towards the cathedral. I just think it's crazy the history here. Approacing the cathedral we walked through a parking lot where the third half-wit, the parking attendant, eyed us with more then disturbing "I'm going to kill you all and eat your livers" look.
I cannot call myself a religious man, but to gaze upon such a structure and walk with such walls is incredible. Such a powerful place it is. The faith and emotion of all those who worked to designe and contruct it seems to just emminate from every particle. It lead me to thoughts about religion and how twisted the Christian faith really is. I'm getting tired now. Night
posted by Brett at 10:06 p.m.
2 Comments:
Brett - I believe Gillingham (if that's the place you are referring to) is in Kent. Think Kent=Durham Region, Gillingham=Oshawa. My grandfather is from Gillingham.
Joe
hmmm well the place in kent we were supposed to go was actually hayes... I think. Anyways according to the tourist info, the most interesting part of Gillingham was the police office or the bus/train station.
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