Food, Glorious Food!

"Please sir, can I have some more?"
--Oliver

Of course the above quote is in a British accent. I am soory (in a British accent) to say--I AM picking up the accent ever so slightly...hopefully I can come back to Utah and drop the "proper English" and begin dropping my g's again (as in hunt-in', fishin', hikin', etc.).

As you may guess from my post title, I would like to tell you a bit about the food here, as the food connoisseur that I am.

It's been 12 years since my last and only visit to the UK. I remember vividly the hunger pangs I felt during that 10 day trip (even though I brought enough snacks to feed myself AND the 100 other people that went on the trip with me). Even though I was able to find a Burger King in every city we were blessed to visit, I think I lost 10 pounds. So, when the opportunity presented itself to travel here to the UK again, I gladly accepted...until the memories started to surface about my food intake while here the last time. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful to have food to eat. Period. But here's the current story.

I have given the country 3 days to impress me. I actually have a say in where I eat every meal this trip, which is different from my last trip. 3 days, I have tried to have an open mind, and 3 days I've been let down (with the exception of one night when I found a Pizza shop owned by a Middle Eastern couple--good calzones!). I talked to my dad a couple weeks before I left and voiced my concerns about the food here. He had to chastise me for a minute and remind me that it was 12 years ago, at the age of 16 that I was here last. "You are older now, and your tastes have changed." Or something close to that. Okay. I will give you that Dad. You are right on that argument. So I tried not to dwell on the food factor of my trip and I tried to keep an open mind.

Well, 12 years and the food still hasn't changed. But what did I really expect? I mean, this country is older than the dirt that makes up this island (I know, I know. The dirt makes the island the country was built on, but humor me here). So, why did I expect anything different? I don't know. I think I had high hopes for the spice trade to make its way to this age-old country before I came back. I didn't think it was a desperate hope?

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Breakfast
After a disappointing trip to the breakfast buffet in the lobby of my hotel yesterday, I decided to give it another shot. I try to give everything and everyone a fair shot to impress me. So, at 8am this morning I travel down my one and a half flights of stairs to the lobby to collect my baguette and apple juice. But low and behold, there, in the distance, I see scrambled eggs, cooked ham, and fried bacon! All that was missing were the pancakes, but I think I was the only one who noticed. So back to the story. As I said, off in the distance, I could see this glorious food. IN. THE. DISTANCE. Behind about 50 tourists. From what I gathered by listening, they were UK nationals. So you mean to tell me that I am in line behind 50 tourist-type people who, according to my dialect detector, belong to this country that is smaller than the state of California? They have never taken trips around their OWN country before, and now I have to wait for them to get some breakfast? I have been on a slight fast for the last 3 days, and I finally see some edible food. I come to the conclusion, with 3 minutes until my ride is to arrive, that my drooling over some good grub is all for naught. So, I march to the front of the 50 people, pickup a bowl and serve myself some flavorless Corn Flakes, scoot over to what looks like cold milk (I distinctly remember this country only having warm milk--so this is definitely an improvement) and start to push the button on the fancy dispenser. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Yes. You counted right. 5 drips of cold milk on my full bowl of cereal. I was in disbelief! Trying to stay positive, I look over to the machine that houses the orange and apple juice. There's still hope to redeem this trip to the buffet. Shuffling to the machine, I pick up my glass, the size of a little kids sippy cup, I put it down and push the button. One quarter inch. One half inch. Three quarters of an inch. One inch. Drip. Drip. Drip. What!?! Are you kidding me? Sulking in defeat, I walk over to the brown leather couches by the front door and park it with just 2 minutes to inhale my dry cereal and wash it down with my one gulp of apple juice. Depressing.

Lunch
The depot (we call them branches in the U.S.) I am at this week, in Carlisle, is about 3 miles outside of "downtown", in the "country". (Yes, Carlisle really does have over a million sheep. I've counted them and named them myself.) Because of the location, you can't just drive around the corner to the yummy taco stand for lunch. Nina, the Office Manager, could tell that I was hungry, so she offered to drive me in her car, on the wrong side of the road into the "village" so I could grab a bite to eat. We got into the village, which consists of a bakery, sandwich shop, a co-op (sort of like a mini 7-11 or Maverick, only smaller with all the stuff you'd see in a grocery store), and a Pub. Now, as much as I wanted to go into the Pub and get pissed (NOT!), I settled for the frozen food section of the co-op. I saw only one thing that I recognized all the words on, so I bought it. Quiche Lorraine. It was definitely edible, not my favorite though. Needed a little salt. So, yes. If I had access to salt I would have used it, and I do not like extra salt on my food (if it's cooked in it's fine, I'm just not a fan of the shaker, never have been).

Dinner
I cannot tell you how bad I want a steak. A basic sirloin from say, Sizzler, Outback, even one from the butcher that I BBQ. I badly wanted a steak tonight. I decided to take a stroll down the street from my hotel and try some local hole in the wall. I located a place that had a picture on the menu of a juicy-looking steak. I walked in and waited about 30 seconds to be seated before I realized no one cared if I was there or not. I walked up to the bar and still got ignored. I flagged down a bartender (by the way, EVERY restaurant has a bar here). She told me to go pick a table, find the number on the table, come back to the bar to order my food and go back to my table to wait. Let me tell you what I learned yesterday from the Depot Manager (who, by the way, races lawnmowers--pictures on the way). Gary taught me that NO ONE tips here. No wonder the guy in Durham, my first night here, looked at me like I fell out of the sky when I tipped him £4. The restaurant employees receive a wage and no tips. The service definitely shows. I would rather have good service and tip, than to be ignored and not tip. As for the food...I ordered an 8oz. thick, juicy steak, cooked medium with a "jacket potato" (I saw butter and sour cream and chives and bacon and, and, and) and a side salad instead of peas. What I got was a cremated skinny piece of no-flavor, no-spice beef jerky, naked jacket potato, and a decent salad with a mystery dressing on it.

I just can't win in this country when it comes to food. I am definitely learning a greater appreciation for flavorful food, no matter how bad it tastes. So I have 11 days left, but if I keep having experiences like today, I think I will voluntarily take a "holiday" (that's what they call a day off or vacation) from eating for the remainder of my trip. Good thing I gained 8 lbs. before I got here.

Oh to be in the Motherland...

It had long since come to my attention that people of
accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things.

--Leonardo da Vinci

Today was the first day of my "Business Meetings" here in England. I enjoyed the company and the scenery on the way to the "depot". There is nothing really to report on the work front. Although, I had a conference call today to discuss how everything had gone to that point. One of the moderators wanted to know which of us thought we had the longest flight, I replied with, "Ooo, me, me!" When he asked who it was I said "Jen in Carlisle" to which he replied, "Jen, where's Jennifer Robinson?" I confirmed I was she and he said that I had picked up the English accent already! What!?! I don't know. I will let you all be the judge when I get back.

So, the villages here are quaint and cute. Houses are quite a bit smaller here, but the gardens are amazing. I am across the street from a happening club (actually about 30 yards from my window). Good if you are a clubber, not if you are me, trying to sleep for work, in a foreign country...on a 7 hour time difference. Oh well. I think if I can get to sleep before the club opens, I might not have a problem. We shall see.

I will write again tomorrow. And don't anyone worry. I haven't gotten pissed yet. =)

Planes, Trains and Automobiles!

"Whoa!"
--Jen Robinson

The Journey Begins
Friday, September 26, 2008

5:00am MST
Wake up.

6:00am MST
Uncle Bob picks me up.

6:30am MST
Get to SLC airport and check in.

7:00am MST
Mmmm...the smell of Cinnabon! But I settle for french toast in the restaurant instead. Yummy!

8:30am MST
I believe that's about the time the plane took off. I can't be sure. I was already passed out asleep (I trained myself to do that sort of thing at my last job when I traveled all the time ;). I didn't wake up until after the 1st beverage service.

3:30pm EST
The plane lands. We all get onto a "PeopleMover" that takes us to the terminal from the tarmac. For those of you who have never had the adventure of riding on one of these apparatus, let me try to explain. Picture this: A double-wide Humvee on giant tractor tires that goes up and down like a scissor lift. Inside it looked like a ferry boat-seats down both sides and two rows, back to back in the middle with floor-to-ceiling poles every few feet, like a subway train. I will try and get a picture in a couple weeks when I return.

4:00-5:00pm EST
Dinner, last cell phone calls, board next plane. JFK to Paris. 7+ hours of flying time. Full plane, a melting pot of sorts. There were many languages being spoken. It was awesome! The smell in the air was a little less than to be desired but there wasn't much I could do about that. I checked my bag at the gate because there was no more room in the overhead compartments, thanks to the new $50 charge for second bags. Hmm. So when you check your bag at the gate, they are supposed to bring it back up from the belly of the plane for you to continue on your journey--WITH your bag. Keep that in mind.

6:00am Paris Time
Bonjour! The plane lands. The flight was long, but thank goodness for sleep and personal TV's--you get to pick from TV shows, movies, music and games! And on the transatlantic flights they are free!!! I got off the plane ready to reunite with my suitcase (my laptop was inside! ahh!). No bag. Yes, you heard me right. No bag. So I stay calm and ask for assistance. The man at the gate was even nice enough to go down under the plane and look for me, but still, no bag. He told me it must be on the carousel. So. Ugh. I checked in for my final flight.

7:00-10:15am Paris Time
I go through customs. Run to look for my bag. There it is! Yay! Phew! I go through the 5-checkpoint of the international security line just to get flagged by the x-ray lady. I know just what it is they want to see. Without saying anything I pull out my bathroom bag that I keep my scissors in. The searcher-man declares they are permitted in my luggage (as I knew they would be) and I begin to close my bag. Just as I begin to do that I feel a weird substance on the bag and see that ALL of my shirts have what appears to be bleach stains!!! ALL OF THE SHIRTS I OWN! Oh my. This poses a problem. What will I wear for the next 2 weeks!?! I finish my trip through security, shed a few tears, pull myself together and march back through customs and down to baggage services. I file a report (which took FOR-EV-ER). I go back through the 5-point security and get flagged AGAIN by the x-ray man. This time the bag inspector tells me my scissors are "forbidden". Hmm. That's funny, 'cause last time they weren't. Just so all of you are aware, weapons ARE allowed in the cabin of all flights. They are called scissors, not to exceed 4" in length. Yes, even serrated scissors. So, after all that, I had just enough time to run to my flight.

10:40am Paris Time
Paris to Newcastle-upon-Tyne flight takes off. I sleep. The whole flight.

11:15am GMT (Greenwich Mean Time)
Cheerio! Newcastle, UK. The adventure begins! See Day 1.

DAY 1
*Mission to find shirts commences. This is harder than you think. I take the Metro into Newcastle from the airport. Apparently Newcastle has the ONLY mall in all of England. Plow through the Northern Rock Football (no, really, it's soccer) fans. 6 hours searching for shirts, you'd think that I'd find plenty...think again! I don't understand their style here. I want t-shirts with sleeves, I find the following: shirts that are sleeveless, or see-through, or ruffled everywhere, or lacy, or neon or have hideous bows on them. Huh. Maybe I'm not girly enough for this country. That's fine =).
*This is what I see outside: Cobblestone, bricks of all blah shades, British taxis, "coaches" (a.k.a. buses in the U.S.), and small golf cart sized cars. Pre-teens smoking in public (you didn't even see that in Cali!), people walking down the street with open containers of alcohol (again, something you don't see in Cali!).
*I took the train to Durham. First built in 1057 A.D. It is a beautiful little town. It reminded me of Disneyland--just the closed-in small theatrical set feeling, I suppose. They were, however, real buildings with real people. There are trees everywhere! I need a tree/berry identifier, maybe one that tries any and all of the fruit that they bear ;). There are rolling hills here, like San Diego, and it's perfect beach weather! But without the beach and without the tall buildings...and medium buildings...and houses everywhere...anyway, I think you get the picture. (There hasn't been any rain yet either! Woo hoo!
*I managed to stay awake until 8:30pm! Yay! I might actually have success at the whole time change and getting on the schedule here! It is a 7 hour difference here from Utah.

DAY 2
I sleep in. Think about getting up but decide to remain in my snugly bed in my junior suite (yes, thank goodness for complimentary upgrades because even this room is small!). Take a nap. Repack. Walk 30 minutes back to the train station, up hills, around corners, not in the snow, with shoes on. Miss the train by 1 minute. Darn. Make the next train to Newcastle. Make the connection to Carlisle. Oh wait! I forgot my book on the last train! Run back hoping to find it. They wouldn't let me back on the train to look so they had to send someone to do it for me. They find it! Good thing too, I had to wait another hour for the next train. Board and ride to Carlisle. Walk 200 yards to the Ibis Carlisle Hotel. Veg. Eat. Write. Blog.

Stay tuned for more adventures from the Motherland! I don't know when I will be able to post pics. As it is I have to pay £1 (or about $2) for every 10 minutes I use the Internet here in the lobby. I might just have to post the when I get home. It's a shame, I know!

Love, Jen

"Stop worrying about the potholes in the road and celebrate the journey."

--Fitzhugh Mullan

I know, it's 1:30am. But rather than sleep, I am trying to get on Greenwich Mean Time. Right now it is 8:30am in England. I am sitting next to my half-packed suitcase surrounded by various electronics that are plugged into the wall to charge. Among the electronics, an iPod, camera, cell phone and of course my laptop. I don't think I've ever traveled so heavy before! It is all in the hopes of being able to include others in the great opportunity I have been blessed with, by documenting my trip through this blog...

I am going to England on a business trip, but I hope to be able to take advantage of my time off to see Northern England and maybe some of Scotland.

Today is a travel day. My flight leaves SLC at 8:30am. I will fly to JFK then on to Charles deGaulle in Paris and end in Newcastle-upon-Tyne in Northern England. I will arrive on Saturday around 11:00am, if all goes well. Hopefully I can update my blog on Saturday night...

These are the Days

"These are the days of miracle and wonder."

--Paul Simon

Who: Noah Chayton Robinson

What: First Day of School

Grade: 1st

Where: Beacon Heights Elementary, Salt Lake City, UT

Date: Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Time: Approximately 8:30am

Teacher: Ms. Lee (I swear she's 30ish, but she's been teaching for 16 years!)

Noah. It's the first day of the first grade in his first "real" school. He looks a little nervous mixed with excitement. He has Spiderman as his backpack sidekick. A blue lunch box (or bag, whatever you want to call it these days) in his hand. Spikey hair, courtesy of some creative brushes through his hair with some L.A. Looks Hair Gel. He is in line, waiting for Ms. Lee to take him inside to his new classroom. Blake is running around on the playground, no cares in the world. Noah looks around, slightly leary of what is about to take place. Kids everywhere. Parents with cameras (yes, even me) snapping pics of their kids and the surrounding activity. Rob has Noah recite his lunch pin number in case he decides he wants to eat cafeteria food (what happened to the days of taking lunch money in straight dimes and nickles?). Ms. Lee comes out. All the parents in attendance hug, kiss, and love on their kids as the lines start to move into the modern school. Oh my, how time flies. First grade.

Who: Blake Calian Robinson
What: First Day of School

Grade: Kindergarten
Where: Beacon Heights Elementary, Salt Lake City, UT
Date: Friday, September 5, 2008
Time: Approximately 8:30am
Teacher: Ms. Judy (I don't even think I know her last name...)

Blake loves to skip. Well, I guess you could consider it more of a run. No, maybe a "Charge!". Yes. That is it. This was Blake's attitude on this bright morning. So excited, he runs straight for the Kindergarten playground. Definitely not shy, Blake has no problem talking about how cool his first day was going to be. Rob, Cristina and I, stood behind the fence and watched as Blake played alone, oblivious to the rest of the kids playing within inches of him. He ran back forth between the playground and the fence where we watched his enthusiasm with great wonder. The kindergarteners were scattered about. The teachers came out and Blake ran up to Ms. Judy. "Today is my first day of Kindergarten!" (In the voice of the kid from The Incredibles that says "That was totally wicked!") My Bigs, in Kindergarten!?!

A Quote to Live By

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” -Marianne Williamson



This quote was sent to me by my brother, Ben. He sent it at a time when I was having a hard time understanding my worth. It has since, come to be a wonderful reminder to the "greatness" (I know you are laughing at me Kary, but it IS a word!) we each have in us. We are truly blessed, that no matter how we feel about our self-worth, we are here for a reason, whether for ourselves, our family or for a complete stranger. We must always remember to be the best we can be, if not for ourselves, then for those around us.

Fish Are Friends, Not Food

"I am a nice shark, not a mindless eating machine. If I am to change this image, I must first change myself. Fish are friends, not food." --Bruce, Finding Nemo

Today, after pulling myself out of my stupor from yesterday's wisdom tooth ordeal, I went to Salt Lake to pickup the boys. I had my next blog post in mind, of course. It's been a while since I sent any pictures of Noah and Blake to my parents so I had to get some good ones to post. I had received some tickets to the Living Planet Aquarium in Sandy, just south of Salt Lake City proper. I picked up the boys and we first made our way to REI for a brief look at jackets and "multi-purpose" bags (not purses ;). Then it was off to the aquarium. I was a little excited. If there is one thing I miss about working at Sea World, it would be the opportunity to see the blindingly bright fish swim around in their own pee. No, really. I LOVED working at Sea World, not because I could stand the smell of feeder fish in the morning, or the afternoon for that matter, or because I loved to hear the seagulls say "Mine, mine, mine" all the time. I loved it because there is nothing like seeing the different types of life exist together, all in the liquid we call water. Have you ever wondered how we, as humans, can survive with oxygen, food and the proper shelter? On the same note, how can there be so many different types of life under the water, deriving their life from the oxygen that is in the very water that, if we were forced under, would kill us? Hmm...just a thought I've always had.

So back to the adventure.

Noah, Blake and I made our way into the building. The boys had been there before, so they lead the way. We started at the beginning. Noah went straight for my least favorite sea creature, the octopus. It was red and about as long as Noah is tall, in a tank that I thought was much too small. Bummer.

Next stop, the Jelly Fish. Who knew those things swam upside down? Well, maybe I did, but today I was surprised to see them traveling in that way. Seahorses...I forgot how cute those things are. There were all sorts of fish and sea life. I was surprised. There was a petting tank with rays in it. Both the boys made a feable attempt at touching a ray, I think more out of being safe from the "stinger" than anything...it didn't seem to make a difference when I mentioned that they didn't have stingers anymore. Oh well. We touched sea stars, saw baby crabs and made our way over to the various tanks that contained fish from Finding Nemo. We saw Dory, Gill, Mr. Ray, and of course Marlin and Nemo. There were sharks and eels and other large fish that look like they could eat me in one gulp. After seeing everything, which only took about 45 minutes, Noah had to show me a hat he was a fan of. And Blake showed off his new scarf. We had a great time, I can't complain. I had a great time, short as it was.

Who me?

A "blogger"? I'm not sure yet. That has yet to be seen. I am definitely NOT a follower. At the same time, I am always looking for a way to express myself creatively. So this is my attempt. Commencing.

The world through my eyes. Mine are no different than anyone else's, but sometimes I wonder if I have some sort of skewed view of life. Take today for example.

I have ONE wisdom tooth. Yep, that's right, just one. Now how odd am I? When I was in middle school my dentist told me that I would never have to worry about it, that it would never come out. Now, as anyone who grew up with me knows, I never had the pleasure of having braces. No braces and only ONE wisdom tooth that would never poke it's ugly head out? How lucky can one get!?! I had it made! Well, until about the middle of April this year. Sad day, I know. I wondered what was going on. That guy decided his delivery date would be when I am 28? Who does he think he is? So, two weeks ago I went into see my dentist, Dr. Mark (well, Dr. Geddes, but he about as formal as I am...p.s. I'm not formal.) to get my bi-annual teeth cleaning and inspection. He suggested I get it taken out so that I wouldn't get any "bugs" or cavities back there...hmm...as many of you know, I dislike the dentist and all of the noises that emanate from said office with a passion. WITH A PASSION! So, needless to say, this option was not my first, however it turned out to be my only. So, this morning I gladly took my prescribed Halcion pill an hour before my appointment. I was a little worried it wouldn't kick in in time (hey, it's happened before--can I say BAD?). I took it at 1130am, ate my favorite food, cereal with milk, and sat on the couch. Kary, my "Jen-sitter" for the day, showed up about 5 minutes later. Another 5 minutes passed and I couldn't see straight. I resigned to my bed and let Kary have reign over the TV. From the time I laid down until the time I woke up around 3:30pm, I don't really remember anything. Worked well, I'd say. Still a little out of it, Kary made me some soup. I got a 4 course meal that consisted of Chicken Noodle soup, vanilla pudding, oatmeal creme pies (thank you Little Debbie ;), and gummy bears. What a guy, I know. So, I guess I haven't really seen much today but my bed and a 4 course meal. Oh yes, and my Kary. He has officially earned his "Jen-sitter" badge. I love that man.