Finished

We are no longer in Europe so we will stop adding to this blog. If you want more bad writing, follow us to Canada and our newer blog at nelsonnewsca.blogspot.com.

In Limbo

We're in our hotel room. I just turned on the telly to keep Sarah from pestering us and happened to flip to the Olympic closing ceremonies on BBC One. It was perfect timing - we saw the mayor of Beijing hand over the Olympic flag to Boris Johnson for 2012. (I've been passing the Olympic site in Stratford on my train every day and have watched its construction progress.) The eight minute London show was neat - Leona Lewis singing "Whole Lotta Love" with Jimmy Page - but I got a bit weepy seeing the red double bus and especially the bus stop sign - it's something I've been seeing every day and reminded me that I won't be seeing it. It's a fabulous, massively cool city, I've been proud to work and be there, and I will bloody well miss it.

For the next few days we'll be between homes. It's a bittersweet time for us.

Yesterday was a busy day. Margo was still away on her overnight celebration. I woke at 6:30 and started packing and sorting. When Sarah got up we ate the pastries I'd picked up the day before, making myself one more cup of instant coffee before packing up the kettle. Sarah helped as she could with cleaning the fridge, freezer and cabinets. Late morning a minivan pulled up outside. The charity had called me two days before and said due to transport problems they couldn't pick up our donation that day, so a woman who had picked up other items from us via Freecycle had said she would take anything else we could spare for a charity project she works with. I'd emailed her and here she was, taking our dishes, printer, lamps, telly, odds and ends, and even things I'd assumed we'd have to throw away - towels, blankets, even the unlaundered sheets we'd just slept in. Margo arrived as we loaded their van, and in twenty minutes we were pretty much cleaned out.

But we still had lots of cleaning to do. I finished with the kitchen, then fired up the Dyson I'd borrowed from John and Nicola and went to work filling its cylinder with hairs and dust and cobwebs. I survived encounters with the dropped leaflets and dust monsters of the Neglected Laptop Desk of Doom as well as the Dresser of Death And Bogey Museum. By the time I finished the Dyson was begging to be put out of its misery.

John had invited us round mid-afternoon for red wine, a heavenly offer, and as we packed our clothes we saw we'd just about make it. These things always take longer than you think - you look around a room and think, "This won't take long", but it does. We dropped Sarah at theirs, then took some last boxes - my iMac and Margo's textbooks - to the post and sorted out the forms. Then, sitting outside with a glass of red - my first chance to relax - I just about shut down for a while. There are so many marks to hit, boxes to tick, and we'd pretty much completed them. (Well, Virgin was supposed to come round that afternoon and disconnect our cable, and I left the parts between the doors with a note and my mobile number, but unfortunately it seems they didn't come round, one last thing for me to sort Tuesday after our bank holiday weekend.) And so we lounged for a while, Sarah and Elliot riding bikes in the alley behind.

When it was time to say our goodbyes, I felt too distracted by the Virgin thing, and too exhausted by the move, to feel sentimental. We loaded our bags, got into our car, and drove down our street for the last time just like we were going for a Sunday drive. It wasn't until we were on the A12 that Sarah started sobbing in the back seat and talking about how she wished we didn't have to move and how she's missing her friends. Margo started consoling her, talking about our new lives we're moving towards, and how you have to end some things to start new things, and I realised: but this is exactly the time we should be feeling sad. And I started thinking about the people and places we won't be seeing and then I was sobbing too (but really quietly and manlily). And if Margo didn't have to drive, she probably would have been too. Because we are all leaving relationships and experiences that have been important to us, and we all have need to mourn.

So now we're in a hotel, doing absolutely nothing, by design. We have our last Saturday Guardian and our last Sunday Times and lots of paperbacks. We have a laptop with Solitaire and 24 hours of wifi.

Tomorrow a cab Margo reserved will take us to a hotel at Gatwick. I have a phone interview in the afternoon and the next morning we fly to Vancouver. We go through Customs, pick up our bags, get our rental car, and meet someone at our rental flat, and we'll be home again.

Sarah and Mike Do London

We spent two days in London this week, one more chance to see the sights. We'd planned to have dinner with friends and stay there overnight. On the train in, we looked at a map and made plans for the rest of our time; Sarah's top choices were to see the Gherkin, the Tate Modern, and the blue whale at the Natural History Museum that we couldn't see last time.

So from Liverpool Street Station we walked a few blocks to St Mary's Axe. Sarah suggested we try a "hey I'm holding up the Gherkin" pose.


Then we made our way toward St. Paul's Cathedral. Here's a building I've wanted to capture for a while, and on our right (behind the climbing monkey) is the Bank of England.


From St. Paul's we crossed the Millennium Bridge. I asked Sarah to get this picture of me against the railing.


Then we saw some Surrealists at the Tate Modern, and later retired to the top floor café for some tea and to savour the view of the Thames.


We continued along the south bank and Sarah found more things to climb.


We walked under the London Eye and crossed the Westminster Bridge, where I finally got a good view of Parliament from the other side.


We spent some time resting on the grass in Parliament Square.


Then walked up Whitehall to Trafalgar Square. Look! It's the Nelson Column!


Sarah didn't get to climb the lions this time as they were fenced off - a screen was erected between them and a live BBC broadcast of Beijing Olympics was showing on it.

By now we were quite tired from hours of walking and sightseeing, so we got a quick view of Picadilly Circus and trudged to Fortnum & Mason, where I picked some Italian reds and Sarah helped me pick some chocolates for dinner.

Then we took the Tube back to Liverpool Street and caught a bus to Hackney to meet our friends Alessio and Angela. I used to work with Alessio and we have enjoyed many wonderful meals, and I wanted us to share one more.

Sarah was shy for a while but was soon her animated self. She played DJ with my iPod, told jokes, and started taking timer shots of us.


And asked us to make faces.


And express her unique affection for her dad.


The next morning we had a lazy start. We said goodbye to our friends, and then we made our way to South Kensington to the Museum of Natural History once more. We were both hungry so we first went to the restaurant. Sarah wanted to show me her new beard.


We said hello to the dinosaur again in the main hall.


And we finally got to see the blue whale.


Once more Sarah got to ride the escalator through the centre of the earth, to the earth science exhibits. (What kid would not want to visit given this entrance?)


And though we'd cruised through halls of birds, mammals, and sea life, Sarah was very taken in with the earth science exhibits, taking time to study interactive displays. She was quite interested.


We were both getting a bit exhausted by now. I needed to get us on the train before the late afternoon peak times so we took our last Underground ride to Liverpool Street and boarded a train home.

Tonight is our last night in our beds. We're mostly done sorting things out but we still need to pack and finish sorting our things before they are picked up late tomorrow morning, and we need to finish our cleaning. We'll also be shipping my computer and Margo's textbooks. It will be a busy day for us.

Stuff!

This week I am at home tying up loose ends. Margo's still working, and Sarah's still going to carers.

Margo's been skilfully meting out our food supplies. Last night was our final home dinner. (We have lots of social dinners coming up.) Salmon with broccoli. And with, um, capers on top. And a side of, er, chips. Washed down with the dregs of white zinfandel and chardonnay bottles. We'll be defrosting freezers next.

Most of what is occupying me is liquidating our stuff. I always hate that part of a move. It's especially tricky for a transcontinental move.

We haven't been accumulating too much. (Well, Sarah has - you wouldn't believe how many toys have passed through our door.) Our house has always been fairly Spartan. We still have shipping boxes from Portland that have served well as nightstands and arm tables. A shopping bag from a London store still serves as our laundry bag. We've jettisoned the extras and are down to just essentials.

The problem is, we're still using it. Dishes, appliances, TV and stereo. So the challenge is to go from 60 to 0, in about one day, with nothing left.

My two weapons have been Gumtree (free classifieds, similar to Craigslist) and Freecycle. Both have sites specific to Ipswich.

We haven't had many items of value. My bike sold over the weekend. I had intended to sell my iMac computer when I bought it two years ago, but I did some research and realised that the latest iMacs have almost the same specs (guess Moore's Law is lapsing), so I'm shipping it over and saving a bunch of money on a new one. All that's left to sell is our small telly, Playstation and iPod hifi. I've listed them for low prices and there's still little interest, so they'll likely be donated.

Freecycle is amazing. I've been able to give away things I never thought I would. Like our dead Dyson - I described its ailments and it sounded fixable enough that I got several responses. Many other items, especially large items, have gone this way. Someone's even coming to collect our blankets - unlaundered - the day after we've slept in them!

But there's a downside. For each item I post, I can expect up to a dozen replies, and I have to decide which one to offer it to, answer any questions, schedule a pickup time, and reply to all the others. So there could be dozens of emails for each item posted.

Fortunately, a charity in town collects furniture and appliances, so they will come on our last day to take some furniture plus all our kitchenware, which was really troubling my engineer's brain as to how to efficiently liquidate.

I've also been working at general cleaning - scrubbing marks off walls, cleaning windows, trimming hedges, mowing and tidying the yard.

I also spent some time this week looking at job postings in Vancouver. I sent my CV for three yesterday and have had two interview requests already - faster than I'd expected, so I'm not so worried about finding work.

I've contacted the principal at Sarah's elementary school, and we'll be visiting the school next week to get her registered.

But it's not all work. Later this week Sarah and I will go to London and be tourists one last time. We'll stay overnight with some friends and a nice Italian meal. And Margo will be having a blowout party with her work mates. As I've mentioned before ... nobody parties like social workers.

What We Didn't Do

We're very glad we got to see and experience all that we have, but of course there are things we wanted to do but didn't have time or energy for.

I wanted to see Geneva. (On our train to Italy, we stopped in Switzerland long enough for my mobile to switch providers; I had its flag on our list but took it out later - it wasn't enough of a visit to count.) Sure, there's nothing exceptional about the art, architecture, food or drink. But I could think of a few things worth writing about. Mont Blanc. Nestlé chocolate. The train from Paris probably passes the Large Hadron Collider. The Geneva Convention would be worth a joke or two. My Victorinox luggage is from Switzerland. Swiss Cheese. It's also the source of lots of modern design, including the ubiquitous Helvetica typeface.

I also wanted to see Manchester. Home of some favourite bands like Joy Division/New Order, The Smiths, Elbow, Chemical Brothers, 10cc. Factory Records. I wanted to get a picture of the placard of the apartment building that used to be the Haçienda nightclub. And probably a picture in front of the Salford Lads Club like the one for The Queen Is Dead. Maybe find the headquarters of The Guardian, our favourite paper. But the trains from London are madly expensive and a Friday night-Saturday-Sunday return trip would have been way more than I wanted to spend on just myself.

We had planned to see Cornwall but didn't get round to it. Great dining and the UK's poshest seaside.

We had also wanted to see Cardiff. I wanted to get a picture standing in the spot of the public square that makes you invisible as it's the secret entrance to the Torchwood lab. It's also where the spacetime rift is, you know. That would have made a great postcard.

A friend of Margo's offered us time in a house in the South of France. We talked about going while Sarah was at summer camp. We never worked it out.

I know Margo wanted to see more of Ireland, as well as Eastern Europe and even Northern Africa. Perhaps she will write about that.

Sarah? She regrets not having more time to watch cartoons.

What We've Done

Another post looking back on our two years in Europe ...

The pushpins below represent cities we've visited. (As we've traveled, I've been tracking our positions; on my copy of Google Earth, zooming into any of these pushpins will go to the building we stayed in. If you want the .kmz file, I can email it to you.)


We've visited several places in the UK as well.


Since July 2006 we've handled the following currencies:

• British Pound Sterling
• Canadian Dollar
• Czech Republic Koruna
  
• Danish Krone
• Estonian Kroon
  
• Euro
• Norwegian Krone
• Swedish Krona
• US Dollar

We've learned enough key phrases to order coffees, say hello, please, thank you, and count to three in French, Italian and German.

I've had several beers in the places they've been brewed:

• Guinness in Dublin
• London Pride in London
• Skullsplitter Orkney Ale in the Orkneys
• Nessie Ale in Loch Ness (literally! on a boat)
  
• Bath Ale in Bath
• York Ale in York
• Greene King in Bury St Edmunds
• Adnams in Southwold
• Brugse Tripel in Brugges
• Carlsberg in Copenhagen
  
• Paulaner and Spaten in Munich
• Staropramen, Krusovice, and Pilsener Urquell in Prague
• Sahti beer in Helsinki
  

(And I've pointedly not had Newcastle Brown in Newcastle, San Miguel in Barcelona, nor Budweiser in Prague.)

We've stood before thousands of works of art, including

• David, Michaelangelo
  
• Mona Lisa, Leonardo da Vinci
• The Persistence of Memory, Salvador Dalí
  
• The Scream, Edvard Munch
• Venus de Milo

One or more of us has stood before, if not toured, each of these places ...

• Casa Mila
  
• The Chrysler Building
  
• The Colosseum
• The Eiffel Tower
  
• The Empire State Building
• The Gherkin
• Guggenheim Museum
• The Leaning Tower of Pisa
  
• Lloyds Building
  
• The Louvre
• Notre Dame Cathedral
• The Pantheon
• Park Guell
  
• Pompidou Centre
  
• St. Paul's Cathedral
  
• St. Peter's Basilica
• La Sagrada Familia
  
• Scara Brae
• The Statue of Liberty
  
• Stonehenge

In terms of music ...

• Sarah and I toured the Beatles Museum in Liverpool
• I visited Abbey Road and saw the studio building and zebra crossing
• I visited Windmill Lane in Dublin
• We've seen traditional Irish music in Dublin
• I've brought back hard-to-find Bel Canto CDs from Norway
• and Hooverphonic from Belgium
• We've heard choral music in Westminster and Ely cathedrals

We've learned to navigate and taken rides on trains and transit all over Europe:

• Barcelona Metro
  
• Deutsche Bahn in France, Germany and Austria
• First, UK
• The Glasgow Underground
• Great Western, UK
• London Underground
• Metro Roma
• Munich U-Bahn
  
• National Express, UK
• Oslo T-bane
  
• Paris Metro
• Prague Metro
  
• ScanRail in Scandinavia
• Stockholm Metro
• Trenitalia in France and Italy
• Vienna Metro
• Virgin, UK

One More Party

A mate hosted a house party last night. The theme was The 80's. We had excellent tunes sourced from a laptop and several guest iPods. Another friend brought a drinks fountain, which is why everyone is in the kitchen in this picture.

I was surprised that Sarah was up for it. There was one other boy there her age and they bonded for a while over his Nintendo DS. She requested the Madness song One Step Beyond and we did a stomp around the living room. She slept on a sofa for the last hour or two. As I write it's late morning and we've just roused her for breakfast, but she had a lot of fun and keeps talking about it.

Mike's Last Work Day

My last day of waking up at 4.50 in the morning! The weather was forecast to be sunny so I brought our camera. I decided to capture some of my favourite scenes of my morning commute. I used shutter priority to avoid motion blur, and since I shoot in RAW format, I could adjust the exposure afterwards, to share images like these:

Manningtree, with boats at low tide ...


The canal leading towards Canary Wharf ...


And The City from the east side, with a great view of The Gherkin's girth ...


I was already in a sad, contemplative mood, but in a good way, realising this was my last chance to see many of these sights. I played music at the same time. My song of the day: Cry by Godley and Creme; artist of the day: Saint Etienne, perfect English pop for a summer day.

I've also wanted to capture this image for some time. Often, instead of walking Moorgate to the office, I walk a bit further to Bath Street, looking up at this Barbican tower, and especially looking at those little oval windows at the top, like portholes, and wondering how bright the sun is for those inside.


My office day was mostly normal. I invited teammates to one more lunch with me at The Eagle, and many accepted. Someone called for cheers.


I was glad that we ended up telling jokes.


I did some more work, and then it was time to leave. I hate, hate, HATE farewells ... they're so awkward! A teammate gathered the rest of the office to say goodbye and presented me with the card that they had left messages with. As uncomfortable as I am being the centre of attention, I managed to express some appreciation. I went around and said my goodbyes and walked out the office doors for the last time.

Walking back toward Liverpool Street station, on autopilot, I carried my stupid grin, basking in the goodwill expressed by my teammates. Sad, but in a good way.

I was a half hour early, so I stopped at the Corney and Barrow wine bar in front of the Liverpool Street entrance, and got a glass of South African Shiraz from an estate named Nelson. My goodwill haze was fuelled further as I read the farewell messages in my card.


I played more music on the way back, thinking on people and scenes I won't see again. A certain song pressed the nerve especially hard. Was I crying? No, no, just something in my eye ... but in a good way.

Aldeburgh Again

Today we went with some friends to Aldeburgh. It was our second visit, but the last time we went, the famous fish and chip shop - considered by many to be the best in Suffolk, if not England - wasn't serving. Our friends wanted to bring us once more to try the fish and chips - one of those things that one must do. And having fish and chips at the seaside is such a traditional English weekend activity.

We arrived in town and parked with 15 minutes before the shop started frying, so we went to the beach to relax. Sarah and Elliot skipped stones.



Margo and Nicola volunteered and went off to bring us fish and chips so we could stay at the beach. It was a while before they returned - you'll see why later. But when they did it was time to sample this revered meal.



And it was great. The fish was quite fresh, lightly oily without being greasy. The batter was also free of grease. Margo suspected it was fried in beef tallow, giving it more flavouring. The chips were skinless and again non-greasy. Margo had liberally salted and vinegared mine.




After our meals we spent more time lounging. John buried Sarah and Elliott, then tickled their feet.


On the way back, I got this shot of the chip shop. There's no seating inside; Margo told me, just a wall full of fryers. The line goes back for much of the block.

Pimm's

For some time I've been itching to make some Pimm's at home. Pimm's is a traditional English summer drink. It's more formally known as Pimm's No. 1 (there are 6 but for the most part people are only familiar with No. 1). It's on offer in pubs and I've only started enjoying it this summer. Today was a rainy afternoon and I thought this would be a fun project, so Sarah and I walked to a nearby market and got all we needed.



These are the ingredients. There's the Pimm's liqueur (based on gin and a secret recipe), and you add one part Pimm's to three parts lemonade (which in England, means lemon soda - Sprite or 7-Up; today I was using something a bit nicer); then lots of fruity bits: apple, strawberry, lemon, mint leaves, lime, orange, and cucumber. Yes, cucumber.

Add some ice and stir it nicely and you get a drink that looks something like this:


And that's a fine English way to spend an afternoon.

Shooting Star

And now, the last of my most frequented pubs ... the Shooting Star in London. It's in Bishopsgate, close to Liverpool Street Station but on the opposite side, so I haven't been so often since we moved office further away - I used to visit about once a week.



It's a Fuller's pub, and one of the nicer ones at that: besides having the standard London Pride and ESB beers on tap, they also carry more seasonal Fuller's ales in bottles, including my revered Golden Pride. Also, a few other standard lagers are on cold taps, as well as the tasty Leffe Blonde.

The food is quite good also, though a bit pricey for pub fare (just south of £10 for most entrees). My mates and I use its bacon cheeseburger as the standard for a pub burger, and compare all others against it.

The interior is quite grand. I feel a bit more like a gentleman inside.



I got these shots Thursday evening but didn't get more of the interior as it was filling up and pub patrons don't generally like having their picture taken.

I've had lots of enjoyable lunches here. My mate and I went out for lunch daily, but if it was a Friday, and we were ahead of our work and thought we could get away with a longer, more relaxing lunch, we'd be likely to visit the Shooting Star.

It's also my first choice for when my train is hopelessly delayed. If my 16:00 train is canceled, I know the 16:30 will be packed like a cattle car, so if Margo can pick up Sarah in my stead, I'll lie low in London for a while until the smoke clears a bit, and this is where I'll do it.

No Vacuum

It's dead. Our first-generation Dyson, De Stijl edition in its custom colours of yellow, purple and orange. It is no more. It is an ex-vacuum.

I should be thankful it lasted as long as it has. Purchased for about 20 quid, it's functioned admirably for a long time, but you could see some broken bits and lots of wear, and realise its days among the realm of working appliances were numbered.

The end came whilst cleaning Sarah's room. After we'd cleared out years of accumulated toys and rubbish, when the last of the dust and long blonde hairs were safely quarantined in the bagless interior, I hoisted it over her bed and turned it off. But when I next turned it on, nothing happened. Apparently the task of cleaning Sarah's room defeated it. If I slap its side I might get a quick wheeze of the motor when I power it on, but I think I have to accept its passing.

But those of you who know my tidy nature are perhaps aware of the loss this represents to me. Sarah can shower crumbs from her mouth onto our carpet, Margo can tromp bits of dirt and grass through the house ... and there's nothing I can do about it!

Please, spare a thought for me. Trapped in a house with two savages, fighting a constant battle against entropy, and now deserted by my most powerful weapon.

Southwold

Today after breakfast and our Sunday cleaning, we took a day trip to Southwold, a seaside town about an hour away, further up the Suffolk coast. We'd been intending to visit it for some time. It's not quite so touristy as some better-known seaside destinations like Brighton and Lowestoft. I was particularly interested to see it as the Adnams brewery is there, as well as several Adnams pubs and inns. In fact, I'd tried earlier to get an overnight stay in one of the inns, but I'd waited too long as the weekends were all booked.

Southwold has had some high-profile visits recently. Gordon Brown was holidaying there last week. He was making an example of vacationing locally in times of high petrol prices. Prince Charles and Camilla visited Thursday to promote local businesses. Local papers had pictures of him having an East Green ale, Adnams' new "carbon-neutral" brew.

We parked in the visitor lot at the far north of the beach and worked our way south toward the pier and the town centre, passing beach huts. Some owners were visiting theirs, and they looked quite comfy: deck chairs, cookers, and cabinets were visible inside some. We've read that, in the nicest locations, a beach hut can be bought for £100K, enough to buy a one bedroom flat in most towns.


Walking to the end of the pier, I got this shot showing the town centre and the lighthouse.


I'd wanted to eat at one of the Adnams pubs, and Margo was getting hungry, so we found the Lord Nelson Inn and split two orders of fish and chips amongst us. I thought the fish was better than the usual pub version. I also had some Adnams Broadside ales, and they definitely tasted a bit better than they usually do in pubs. It was nice to see lots of Nelson-ania decorating the walls: portraits, news clippings, even a ship in a bottle.


It started raining while we ate. Today was one of those days with lots of clouds and very variable weather.

We got ice cream, and also found the Adnams brewery nearby.


Then we headed back towards the pier to give Sarah some time to play in the sand.



(Sarah is covering her face from the Papa-razzi photographer ...)

As expected, the water was cold. We got our feet wet and Sarah and I let the surf chase us.


Dark clouds blew closer though, and we timed our exit well, leaving town just as the rain hit. It continued to rain for most of our trip home.

Mike's Brilliant List

As our time in Europe draws to a close, we're starting to look back on our time here and all that we've experienced. Here are some of my favourite things about England ...

• Electric kettles. Fancy a cuppa? Fill it, switch it on, wait a few minutes. Also good for cooking pasta - a faster and more economical way to boil water. We'll definitely get one when we resettle.
• Switched mains. Why doesn't every country do this?
• Flash furnaces. I love that our hot water, as well as our heating, all comes from a little white box in the shed that only turns on when we need it.
• The BBC. Sure, it's taxpayer funded, but it's a source of excellence. Great shows like Doctor Who and Extras. Amazing cinematography of wildlife, sports, pretty much anything in front of the lens. Excellent news and weather forecasting. Outstanding children's programming. And much of it completely free of adverts.
  
• Top Gear. Yes, its main host is a mouthy conservative, and the show can be quite laddish. But when it's on I cannot turn away, and even Margo wants to watch it.
• Newspapers. Half are as embarrassing as any in the States with their scare-mongering ALL CAPITAL HEADLINES and fourth-year reading levels, but the other half are the best researched, most informative and entertaining papers in the English-speaking world.
• Education. Everyone I work with could give a fine presentation on a moment's notice. They all speak and write with articulation and intelligence. It's a bit intimidating; at first I felt at a bit of a disadvantage. Even athletes and rock stars give articulate interviews.
• Cheese
• Butter
• Sausages
• The NHS. It's not perfect, but. Children's prescriptions are free, by law. Most everything is free but for a modest visit charge. There's excellent medical information online. And they fund brilliant, graphic and informative adverts about smoking, auto safety, and drinking that are as eye-catching as any others.
  
• Pay As You Earn. This year Margo and I spent fifteen hours finding and completing a myriad of forms in a complex way of telling the IRS, "here's what we earned even though we know and you know we don't need to pay taxes on it but we have to prove it to you anyway". UK taxes? Handled - we do nothing. Council taxes? It's debited from our account, with no filing.
  
• London's Congestion Charge. It's brilliant to walk quiet streets and see empty parking spaces. Of course, if I had to drive in London I might feel differently ...
  
• English Breakfast
  

Mike's Rubbish List

• Trains to London. They're the most expensive in Europe and the most unpleasant. I am regularly delayed, sometimes severely. Some say it's privatisation; I wonder if perhaps the rail lines are showing their age; but for whatever reason, it's probably the worst rail service in Europe.
• High Street Shopping. It's always the same shops, everywhere, and they only carry the mainstream big-sellers. They're staffed by underpaid, passionless drones. Shopping is no fun.
• Most Beer. In the country that created ales, porters, and stouts, how can so many people consume - nay, demand - so much watery, fizzy lager?
• BBC Radio. I know there are at least four national stations and many local stations, but I can't tell one from the other because the programming is so random. You can never tell what will come next. The Smiths, followed by Kylie Minogue, then Barry Manilow, then The Who. Each station is completely schizophrenic.
• Coffee. Lousy. Even the cod-Italian chains like Cafe Nero and Costa can't make a cup as interesting as boring old Starbucks.