Crazy consumerism

So on the one hand, you have these people who say: "All you really need for the baby is a few outfits and a dresser drawer for it to sleep in!"

Then you have the people who want you to buy everything and the kitchen sink, and spend a lot of time convincing you of the need to own one knick-knack or another.

In the middle, you have confused parents-to-be trying to gauge what, exactly, they DO need. It's hard, because what might work for one family, won't for another, and vice versa. Then there's the mild guilt trip you get from seeing all those expensive organic items and wondering if you should try and tweak the budget to include those somehow. Like, seriously, baby wipes made from tea tree oil and pure completely edible ingredients. Slings made from organic cotton or fleece or what-have-you.

It's all very confusing. And potentially quite expensive.

We've decided to close our ears, go LALALA, and try and save as much money as possible. So far we've gotten a crib (one of the travel kind with soft-mesh sides) on sale, and 20 cloth diapers (reusable nappies as they call them here). Hopefully we can find other things at the English equivalent of garage sales or off Freecycle. Here's to looking!

Though I suppose we might also pick up an outfit or two once we find out the flavor at the gender scan on Friday...!

All right...

I'd like to know who awarded the fetus its black belt. Flying judo chops to the bellybutton at 3am are very disconcerting.

In other news, I found some pictures of our visit to the Lake District on a CD:




Only have time to post one. We were a little more than halfway up Helvellyn when we took this picture. You can tell how high we are by squinting - those specks coming up the path below are other people. The peak was even higher than this. I'd love to get back up there someday and go to the very top.

Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar?

Wasn't me. No, seriously. I'm pregnant, not fat.

Anyhow, a few days ago we went out to dinner to celebrate a friend's birthday. Somehow, all the parents/parents-to-be wound up sitting on the same end of the (long) table. After a while, our conversation turned to kids.

Chatting merrily along, the person whose birthday it was suddenly pauses and says in a rather rueful tone...

"You know you're getting old when you talk about expressed breastmilk at your own birthday party."

Bognor Regis

(This photo has nothing to do with Bognor Regis - I just thought it was cool. That's Bruno looking out over the Thames from Battersea Park at an interesting old boat.)

On the weekend (Brits usually say "at the weekend" but I'm trying to stick to my roots, here), B and I visited the Imperial War Museum near Waterloo. Our local train station was closed for engineering work so we walked the better part of a mile to another one. This station is quieter, has trains coming through only four times an hour, and is smack dab in the middle of a green park.

A Londoner might gasp: "Only four times an hour? That's madness!" Well, I grew up in the suburbs of America, where the bus came twice an hour, and only ONCE on Sundays. Really, the glamor of living in an area where I often wait less than ten minutes to catch a bus or a train hasn't worn off yet. Londoners will be sitting there griping about how the bus or the train is too full and I'll be the one in the midst of them all grinning like a loon because hey, while the bus might be packed, it's THERE and moving. Plus, you can get like, anywhere. Seriously. There are places in America that you simply cannot get to via bus or train... or if you can, it's incredibly inconvenient. It's really no wonder that non-drivers in America feel so disenfranchised.

Anyhow, back to Bognor Regis. We'd spent a good few hours at the museum and made our way back to the train station. Our train would be there within fifteen minutes so we found a seat and listened to all the other announcements.

Ok, I've got to cut for a moment here to explain something important. England has weird place names. It totally does. The best way to find them is to drive along rural backroads and sign-spot. There's a place called Thong. And on the way to Norfolk we drove past a town called Formerly. That's got to cause some confusion:

"So, where do you live?"
"Formerly."
"No, I meant where do you live currently?"

Right, so back to Bognor Regis. A train pulled up to platform 13 and the automated announcer comes on and broadcasts the usual spiel "Platform 13, for the 15:20 train service to BOGNOR REGIS, stopping at..."

I don't know if it was the exhaustion for the day or the cookies I'd had earlier, but every time the announcer said "Bognor Regis" in his funny voice, I almost died laughing. And then it got stuck, or delayed, and kept repeating itself. By the end, even Bruno chuckled.

Greece

Santorini. Partially destroyed by a volcano over a thousand years ago. We stayed in a small family-run motel underneath this sky-high cliff church. You couldn't drink any of the tap water because it was brackish. It was within about a 10 minute walk of a small town on the ocean, and the beach was rocky, not sandy. It was beautiful. While we were there, they had a huge local festival, so the church was filled with singing that, through microphones and the acoustics of the cliffs, boomed out across the whole area. Our host, a cheerful old man, tried to describe the festival as best he could:

"First, they dance. Then singing. Now, they drink!"

Ouzo, an alcoholic drink, is very popular in Greece. It's customary for hosts to serve up a small glass after dinner. Cut with water, it turns cloudy, and tastes like licorice. You can also mix it with orange juice (that's what Bruno likes to do). We liked to sit outside in the shade and hold our glasses to our foreheads to cool down in between sips.

On our second day we joined a cheap tour. A charter bus took us down the steep switchbacked hill into the port town and we boarded a boat headed for the volcano. We walked to the top of the volcano (not the easiest of treks) and listened to our tour guide give a talk on the area. He dug his hand into a hole near the top and came out with a handful of steaming sand/pebbles to prove the whole place was still active. Here's Bruno on the trek up:


After we came back down and boarded the boat, we sailed to another tiny island where we all dove off the boat and swam from the cool Aegean waves into the reddish warm waters of a volcanic spring. The waters are supposed to be good for your skin, but we didn't stay long. Here's me (center-ish) swimming out to the warmer waters:



As we dried off, the boat took us to...




Thirasia, population ~200. The land in the distance is Santorini itself. Thirasia was one of the land masses left standing by the huge volcano that obliterated the middle part of Santorini. Because of the volcano, the port areas are very narrow, so getting up to the top can be difficult. We visited Thirasia on our second day, sailing with a tour group first to the (still active) volcano, then to Thirasia where we had lunch and rode donkeys up to the view in the picture above. The road switchbacked on itself multiple times, carved out of the dark rock of the hill itself, but the donkeys were pretty agile.

At the end of the line. There wasn't much up there. Just a mostly-empty town and a few restaurants.

On the third day, we took the ferry to Naxos. Our local beach (Plaka):


We spent most of our time lounging on the sand with occasional dips in the Aegean. After our long train trip and hectic touristing-around on Santorini it was nice to relax. We did go into the port city, however, to see the sights there.

Resting on the steps leading toward the top of the hill. The port city was built with defense in mind, so there were lots of narrow steep streets and little curving alleyways.


Portara, at sunset. This is what remains of a very ancient temple - the doorway. Through a mixture of erosion and global warming, the hill it's on is slowly shrinking, and it's now pretty much an island, linked by a stone causeway that errant, enthusiastic waves splash over. It's beautiful.

That's all for now. When the mood strikes me, I'll see about posting pictures from other trips.

To Greece, via train. Part 2.

This was part of the spa in the hotel and the reason why we didn't venture out that much. In the background behind where I'm swimming, there were two hot tubs. Around the edges of the pool there were showers, two saunas, an ice plunge, and a steam room. When we were done with those we would lounge in our bathrobes and towels on the reclining chairs. All our breakfast and lunch needs were free in the executive lounge. They also had computers, a TV, and newspapers/magazines. Bruno really liked the lattes they served, ones with huge foamy heads in tall glass cups. Slightly reluctant to leave this luxury, on the third day we checked out, left our baggage at the front desk, and ventured out to see the city.

Bruno in front of a musical fountain on a small island (Margitsziget) in the middle of the Danube. The water was choreographed with the music, so the spray would constantly wax and wane with the rhythm. It was a dark, rainy day so the quality of the photo could be better. After we walked around some, we went to a cafe and had some hot drinks, then went on to Buda Castle.


The funicular about to ascend. 95 meters long, 51 meters high, 48% grade.


At the top, looking down. The Danube wasn't beautifully blue that day because it was too overcast, but the rest of the view was superb. We sheltered from the rain a bit then headed out to walk around the grounds. We were running out of forints so we didn't go into the castle itself, but saved money by exploring the areas around it. The Trans-Balkan train was due to leave that evening, so we didn't have a lot of time for the rest of the city. We headed back from the castle, down the funicular, and caught a confusing bus back to the hotel, where we had some tea, then caught a cab to the train station.

Before boarding our train, we stocked up on food, drink and toilet paper. The Trans-Balkan is a fairly primitive train compared to the western European ones. There's no dining car. Its top speed is around 60mph or so. The sleeping arrangements are actually slightly more roomy/comfortable than the sleeper we had through Germany:


That's where we spent two nights. There's actually three bunks in there - another one opens above the top bunk (where I slept). I couldn't imagine dealing with three people in there, though. Two was enough. We passed from Hungary into Romania and then into Bulgaria. Every time we crossed a border we had to get our passports checked. In my case, they had to stamp it because I'm not an EU citizen. They stamped it when we left and when we entered. Once we got woken up at 3am for a check; another time I spent 45 rather worried minutes peering out the window at a Communist-era train station while they fiddled with my passport inside. There were stray dogs everywhere. We passed people riding on donkeys, in horse-drawn carts, holding chickens. Here's an example of one of the train stations:


We arrived in Greece in the wee hours of the morning. I had to get out and talk to the border police and convey to them, in simple English, what I was up to. I think they were surprised to see an American traveling to one of the islands via train, but hey, they let me through. We were only on board for another few hours before we arrived in Thessaloniki. It was still early. We caught the first train out to Athens and spent about 6 hours traveling down the spine of Greece. The scenery was beautiful and we were pretty high up for a train - looking down across the mountains/tall hills was breathtaking. I couldn't take any pictures, though, we were going way too fast.

Once in Athens, we decided to save the cab fare and take public transportation to Piraeus, the port. We hung out in Piraeus until Bruno could buy ferry tickets. By this time we were exhausted and pretty grubby (no showers on the train). When we got on the ferry to head to Santorini, we were just happy to sit down. I guess someone forgot to pay homage to Poseidon though, because we had just about the roughest sea journey I've ever experienced. The boat was rolling so hard from side to side that I could see the waves through the windows on each side as we barreled along. For the first time in my life I actually felt seasick. I think I would have been all right if I'd been able to go outside, but we were going too fast for that to be safe, and the sea was way too rough. When we docked at Santorini, the loading ramp was literally swaying hard from side to side, making it tough to unload the people and vehicles. Once I was on solid ground, though, I felt a lot better.

That was the end of the epic train journey. I'll update with pictures of Greece on the next post.

To Greece, via train. Part 1.

We had been planning a proper honeymoon for months. As is typical of us as a couple, I dreamed it up and Bruno put it into planning, connecting the dots and making it all work. We wanted to go to Greece, but through a combination of wanting to see the world and our idealistic beliefs in avoiding short-haul flights (due to their insane pollution) we decided to travel via train to get there.

We left our flat in the late morning to catch the Eurostar out of Waterloo (they've since moved it to King's Cross). We'd packed as lightly as we could. I brought my journal, some clothes, a camera, a few books, and some snacks for the journey. Eurostar to Brussels took a few hours, and it was a pleasant journey. There's something very civilized about traveling via train. You relax and watch the scenery, get up and move around without being yelled at to sit down and fasten your seatbelt in case of turbulent air, and there's food served on board. Not to mention the fact that you don't undergo a damn cavity search in order to board.

When we arrived in Brussels, we had a short layover where we explored the station and said (about 500 times) "We're in Belgium!" The train station was bustling with all kinds of folks. It was so neat to see all the different destinations for the trains and imagine going there one day. When the time came, we got up and caught the same type of train pictured above. It was packed! But it was still civilized. We sat behind a group of Germans who were celebrating something or other. They had a bottle of wine and had a few toasts. Try doing that on an airplane.

The scenery in Belgium was really fun to watch. My family (on my dad's side) originated from around Liege and migrated down to Amsterdam back in the 14th century-ish, so it almost felt like I was rediscovering my roots. Durr, that sounds so pretentious. After a few hours, we arrived in Cologne, Germany, and waited for our sleeper train to pull in.


Here I am sitting in our sleeper car! I was so tired at that point that we pretty much went straight to bed after dinner. There wasn't much room to sit around, anyway, except in the dining car. By that time, it was really dark, so we couldn't see much outside. The trains were ace though. Everything was scrunched together, but it was done with the maximum efficiency. That table by my elbow doubled as a sink. There were light switches in convenient places. By my elbow was a cabinet for storing luggage. The top bunk was narrow but fairly comfortable. I didn't get the best night's sleep, but I slept.

Traveling via train brings back memories of my childhood. I had my first long train journey at 6 months old on Amtrak. My second major journey was cross country when I was 4. I remember sleeping on the floor with a yellow blanket and spending time playing games in the observation cars watching the world roll by. When I was 8 or so I went with my mom via train to visit relatives in Louisiana and Colorado. We got delayed for hours in El Paso, Texas, and I remember rolling through the desert in Arizona and stopping to let freight trains rumble by. I stuck my head out into the arid air and stared. There was nothing around us - literally nothing - but desert and train tracks. Giant red buttes jutted in the distance. I remember realizing quite suddenly how vulnerable humans really were. I could have stepped off the train and walked off, walked for days without being noticed by anything but the sky. At 15 I went with my mom up to Seattle, WA, to visit an old family friend. We got a sleeper car, and I loved every minute of it. I think that was our last trip together before my mom died. Someday I really want to to take my own kid(s) across the US on Amtrak... it's a dream I have.

Back to the story: We woke up to the attendant knocking on doors. Ours was a neat person. She spoke German, Dutch and English, and brought us breakfast in little boxes. By this time we were nearly in Austria, and the scenery outside was pastoral and serene, with early morning farmers out and about. As we neared Vienna, we passed commuter trains with their first loads of workers/businesspeople. When we pulled into the station, we found a baggage locker inside the station and headed into the center of the city for half a day since we had such a long layover.

I was feeling a little bit out of sorts so we found a cathedral to sit in. Bruno wandered around and took a few pictures until I felt well enough to get up and wander around. We walked to the Spanish Riding School, but nobody was performing that day, and sat in a cafe and had lunch while getting a feel of the city. I wasn't feeling well enough to do anything strenuous, but Bruno went to the top of the gothic cathedral we'd visited earlier and got a good glimpse over the rooftops of the city. After awhile, we headed back to the train station (via an underground tram) and caught our train to Budapest.

We rode in a communal chamber alongside a young backpacking couple who didn't speak much English and a really eccentric but merry old man who kept leaving the chamber for a smoke and to talk on his cell phone. The trip was pretty uneventful (apart from almost getting off at the wrong stop), but I thought it was interesting how the scenery changed. The green pastures of Austria slowly melted into long tan fields and blocky old stone structures that hailed from another era. By the time we got into Budapest though, both of us were well up for a shower and some R&R. We caught a cab to the hotel, but when we got there, we got pulled aside at reception and told to go up to the 2nd floor reception.

Sweaty, dirty, and a little bit concerned, we obliged. When we got to the desk we were told that we had been bumped up to "executive quarters" because we were the Xth visitors to check in that day. That meant we had access to the special lounge, bigger rooms, and free spa visits. It ended up being totally awesome, but it did mean we spent most of our time in Budapest in the hotel.

This is getting pretty long. I'm new at this blogging thing, so I'll cut here and update the story later. To be continued with pictures of Budapest, the hotel spa, and our utterly crazy 2 day train trip on the Trans-Balkan to Thessaloniki.