Haunted Graveyards

As I mentioned in my last post, I've been experimenting with some horror photography. I stumbled across the reverse color and black and white settings on my camera and have been snapping photos of castles, cathedrals and graveyards. On a recent visit to Escomb church, the oldest surviving Anglo-Saxon church, I took some photos in the graveyard. The church was built in 670 and I'll be blogging about it on Gadling next week. These graves are from the 17th-19th century. I like this one above, in a reverse black and white image.

Here's the same grave in a reversed color image. Check out the skull. It looks like something my kid would draw!

The trees make a nice backdrop to this shot.
I like the fade out to the left.

Here are some buildings on the River Wear at Durham. The greenery came out an interesting color. I have plenty more images of castles, stone circles, graveyards, etc., mostly normal shots rather than products of my fiddling with the settings. If anyone's interested in using them for their own projects, get in touch.

Horror photography!

I just got back from hiking the East Highland Way in Scotland. While I was up there I discovered a new setting on my camera. In the "text" option for taking photos of print, there are four settings. One looks indistinguishable from a regular portrait setting, one is black and white, one is negative black and white, and then there's this one, a reversed color image. Looks like a cover for some Gothic horror novel! This is the cathedral at Durham in northern England.
Another view of the same cathedral. Not sure why the sky changed color.
Julián, my four-year-old son, took this one of Papa emerging from the grave.
This decayed tomb is carved in the image of a knight. What horrors lurk beneath?

Next time: more mucking about with the camera!

Back to a different Oxford

I spent most of last week in The Netherlands doing some research for my next book and writing articles for Gadling. I had a great time and managed to see the grand opening of the Amsterdam branch of the Hermitage. I'll be posting more articles on Gadling next week, including a feature on Delft and one on Dutch castles.

Now I'm back in Oxford, but it's not the same as when I left. Two weeks ago the students were in the throes of exams. Now they're finished and most have left, to be replaced by ever-increasing hordes of tourists. I'll miss not having the students around; they are a big part of the atmosphere in any university town, and now that term has ended there will be fewer functions at the university. The best lecture I saw was by archaeologist Mike Parker Pearson about his Stonehenge Riverside Project. There won't be any more of those until September. Now I'll have to deal with big crowds of people walking agonizingly slowly through the center of town.

So far it hasn't been so bad. I suspect the economic downturn has slowed things down. Amsterdam had noticeably fewer people than when I last visited, and my traveling companion who was there last November said it was even slower than before, strange considering he was last there in winter and now it's summer. Maybe bad economic times will give me some respite from the tourist hordes this summer.

Eights Week in Oxford

We just celebrated Eights Week here in Oxford. This is a rowing race in which eight-person crews from all the colleges vie to bump their way to victory. Thirteen boats line the river in order of the finish from the previous race. To get further up in line for the next race, you have to bump the boats in front, thereby switching places. This stretch of the Thames, locally called the Isis, the very narrow and encourages lots of bumping. Occasionally one of the boats gets bumped so hard it sinks!
The boats eagerly await the starting cannon.

Silly hats are an important part of any English boat race.

The cannon blasts and they're off!
Here's a bump in the making, but the folks in green managed to slip away.

Not all boats on the Isis are up to the challenge.

Donnington Bridge affords a good view.

Hard at work on the oars.

My son and I were very disappointed that nobody sank. Maybe next year!

Settling Down In Oxford

Sorry I've been so silent this past week, but Almudena, Julián, and I just moved up to Oxford for a six-month research trip. I'm ensconced in the Bodleian Library researching two books while Almudena is working with the astronomy department. Julián is starting in a local school next week so I'll have much more time to post after that. Taking care of a three year-old all day is exhausting!

So far we've been exploring the two local parks, the local pub called The Fir Tree (serving a fine Sunday roast and guest ales) and getting in a bit of work. Today we took another look at an old pagan grove and Norman church in the village of Iffley that I blogged about last year. This weekend I'll be attending Oxfringe, a local literary festival. I'll be reporting on that next week. Busy, busy!

Vacationing in Extreme Weather

Now here's a tourism agency with balls.

The Isle of Harris, in the Outer Hebrides northwest of Scotland, is trying to get people to visit in the wintertime. That's right, visit an island that has nothing between it and the North Pole except a few hundred miles of windy North Atlantic. Where this week's weather forecast calls for fog giving way to three days of rain. Where the high this month was nine degrees.

So why winter in Harris? Well, besides cozy pubs, a unique island culture, and local crafts such as the famous Harris tweed, there is the stunning landscape, made lush by rain and rugged by scouring winds. The topography is so unusual that Stanley Kubrick used it to portray the surface of Jupiter in 2001: A Space Odyssey. Bird watchers and wildlife enthusiasts will have plenty to see, such as rare golden eagles, otters, and whales in the unspoilt seas and countryside. Hikers can challenge themselves on the windswept peaks, and history buffs can explore the region's past, which has included Vikings, monks, and hardy crofters. Folklore is alive and well in the Hebrides, replete with Celtic music and traditional tales of ghosts, kelpie, and heroes. The island's very remoteness means that its culture has not been overly affected by tourism.

But why winter? Wouldn't it be better to go in summer and have a chance to actually see the sun? The Winter Harris website disagrees. There are more rooms available in winter, you see, and the rough weather can be an attraction in and of itself. With all the emphasis on extreme travel these days, braving the Arctic winds seems like it fits right in.

Like the website says, "What's the worst case scenario? Listening to an Atlantic storm in front of an open fire." I'd add a pint or two of heather ale or a glass of scotch.

Snowy Oxford

We were up in Oxford last week doing some research and spent much of the time snowed in. At least we were snowed in some nice bookstores and pubs! We also managed to grab some nice photos. The one above is the famous tower of Magdalen College, taken from our hotel window.

Across the street from our hotel was Merton College.

I also nabbed this nice sunset behind Magdalen College. I can't wait to be living up there for six months!

Ethiopian Mead

Sorry for not posting for more than a week, but I had a busy trip to England that started with getting diverted to Bornmouth for three hours, getting practically snowed into our hotel in Oxford, and trying to travel around England in the snow and slush while writing an article for British Heritage.

Anyway, I got the article done, got some nice snowy shots of England that I'll post later, and then spent a couple of spare days in London researching my next book proposal and enjoying the city's nightlife.

One place I stopped with my friend/former housemate/drinking buddy Michael was Merkato Restaurant and Wine Bar on 196 Caledonian Rd. This is in the center of one of London's Ethiopian communities and is the best Ethiopian restaurant I've tried. The owner brews his own tej, an Ethiopian honey wine that's a bit different from European mead. It's cloudy, slightly sweeter, and has a bit of a different flavor thanks to some added spices. There's a detailed webpage about tej here, and there's even a Facebook group for tej fans. One wine bottle of tej is plenty for two people, even two seasoned veterans such as Michael and myself. If you get to London, try this restaurant, and try the tej!

It's Official: Kebabs Are Bad For You

In the film Casablanca, the corrupt police captain Louis Renault tells Rick Blaine that he's shocked, shocked, to discover there's gambling going on at Rick's Café Américain. A moment later a croupier hands him his winnings.

Yesterday the BBC reported that British health officials are shocked, shocked, to discover kebabs are high in calories, fat, and salt. The favorite food of binge drinkers, harried commuters, and penny-pinching backpackers, this slime on a stick apparently has an average of just under 1000 calories, the entire daily requirement for salt, and well over daily levels of saturated fat. The kebabs were tested without the rich fatty sauce that's usually slathered on as a final step in preparation.

Officials in 76 councils tested the nutritional value of 494 kebabs. The worst offenders had 1,990 calories, more than twice the daily requirement of salt, and more than three times the daily requirement of fat. More than a third included ingredients not on the labels, including several with pork. Two of the kebabs that included pork were sold by shops that claimed to be halal, meaning that they supposedly followed Muslim dietary rules that forbid pork.

But the question remains--will this make the fattest country in Europe change its dietary habits? Probably not, considering that everyone already knows kebabs are bad for you. This is probably why they are mostly eaten by people who have just been on a bender.

On the positive side, discarded kebabs make great foraging for urban England's growing population of wild animals. When I lived in Elephant and Castle, the local fox, dubbed "smokey", lived well off of kebabs and other junk food he found in the dumpster and on the sidewalk.

After Captain Renault pockets his winnings, he blithely orders Rick's Cafe closed. He's under political pressure to do so. I wonder, after the officials at the Local Authority Coordinators of Regulatory Services made their report and satisfied their bosses, did they light up a fag and pop down to the nearest pub for a pint?

History and Travel in Britain

The Christmas issue of Timetravel Britain is now up. This free webzine about historic British travel has been around for several years and is always fun to read. I've contributed several articles to it, although I don't have anything in this issue. Check it out.

And if you want to see some of my articles, you might want to read about the Imperial War Museum, Southwark Cathedral, and a tour of Roman London. You can find more from yours truly in the site's index.

Armistice/Remembrance Day

Ninety years ago today, on the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, World War One ended. Today in London three of the remaining veterans took part in memorial ceremonies at London's Cenotaph. They were Henry Allingham, 112, Royal Air Force; Harry Patch, 110, Army; and Bill Stone, 108, Royal Navy.

My grandfather was a WWI veteran and I've met many others. It's strange to see such an important event pass from living memory into history, but with all of the remaining veterans being well over 100, they won't be with us long.

Here in Madrid there's an exhibition titled "¡1914! The Avant-Garde and the Great War" exploring how World War One affected the art and ideas of Europe. I've blogged about it here.

Twenty million people died in the war, and it changed Western civilization in countless ways. Right now I'm reading Rites of Spring: The Great War and the Birth of the Modern Age, which is one of the best books I've seen on this subject. Highly recommended.


Photo courtesy Caroline Ford, from Wikimedia Commons, reproduced under GNU Free Documentation License.

Atheist Ad Campaign

A group of atheists backed by famous atheist writer Richard Dawkins are trying to raise money to put ads on London buses, according to an article in the Guardian. The ads will use the slogan, "There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life."

I happen to agree with this statement, but there's a problem. They're saying there's probably no God, which means they admit the possibility, however slim, that there is a God. That makes them agnostics, not atheists. I've come across this confusion before among atheists, and I have to say it baffles me.

The campaign is in response to ads by a Christian group whose website says we're all going to burn in a lake of fire if we don't accept Jesus. In support of the atheist ads, Dawkins said, "This campaign to put alternative slogans on London buses will make people think--and thinking is anathema to religion."

Silly boy, thinking is anathema to fundamentalisms of all sorts, whether fundamentalist Christianity, fundamentalist Communism, or fundamentalist atheism. Intelligent, thinking people come to all sorts of different answers to life's questions, and fighting intolerance with intolerance isn't going to get us anywhere.

How about this for a slogan: "Consider agnosticism, because it's OK to say 'I don't know.'"

"I Want To Go To The Science Museum"

When you hear your 2 1/2 year-old son say this, you know you're doing something right. As I mentioned in a previous post, Julian has become obsessed with the Oxford Museum of Natural History. Now when he wakes up he asks to go there. He needs to see the Iguanodon and play with the microscope, after all.

Sad to say, I'm now in Missouri and he and his mother are back in Madrid. Apparently he really liked being home for a couple of days, then started getting upset because he couldn't do all his favorite Oxford activities.

I know what you mean, kid, American microbrews are nothing compared to good, honest English real ales.

Well, at least we'll be back in Oxford for six months next year.

These past two weeks have been interesting from a parenting point of view. Julian has always been an active and observant kid, but being in a different country, and being in a small town instead of in the center of Madrid, really opened his eyes. He got to feed ducks for the first time, climb trees, play by the river, all the stuff country kids take for granted. He was amazingly energetic, ate hugely, slept like a log, and learned a bunch of English. Hopefully we'll be able to schedule some regular periods of fresh air from now on.

Yes Caitlin, I Got Your Feckin Cricket Bat

After years of incessant badgering by my friend Caitlin, I have finally buckled under and bought her a cricket bat, despite the fact that she has no idea how to play the game.

I hope you appreciate this, Caitlin. I had to go into a sports store in Oxford and ask for a cricket bat in a colonial accent. I felt like a total tourist! The guy behind the counter gave me an ironic English grin and said, "Oh yes, haw haw, a fine memento for your holiday, haw haw." I wanted to tell him I'm on a research trip, but I'd just sound like a tourist pretending to be a resident, which is worse than sounding like a tourist. After Lord Haw Haw was done mocking me, I slunk away with your cricket bat under my arm, and he no doubt made some witty remark to his snickering coworker about tourists.

I am not a tourist! I am Sean Bloody McLachlan, reader at the bleedin' Bodleian!!!

Note: In the above picture I'm not actually hitting a cricket ball, not having bought one for fear you'd break every window in your house. That ball is actually a football (soccer ball to you rebellious colonials) sitting in the background.

If you want your present, you'll have to sing "God Save the Queen" while standing on a table at the Thirsty Turtle, or else. . .

A Pagan Grove and Norman Church in Iffley

We have a new favorite walk from Oxford. Just a couple of miles up the Isis (the local name for the Thames), and past a nice riverside pub, is the little village of Iffley. Its main claim to fame is a fine Norman church built in the late 11th century that's is almost perfectly preserved. Early on, it changed hands from the local lord to an estate further away, and while the absentee owners paid for its upkeep, they didn't do much to change it, making it one of the most pristine Norman churches in the country.

The front is very Romanesque, and the door is decorated with an unusual partial zodiac, which I'll post on later with more pictures. There's also an atmospheric old cemetery and a 1,500 year-old yew tree. The local priest thinks it was part of a sacred pagan grove and that under the church there's probably an old Saxon church from the 5th or 6th century. Since early church builders liked to build in sacred groves, I'm thinking the Saxons cut down the center tree of the grove, which was probably as old then as this one is now, and built the church on top of it. You see this sort of behavior with mosques, churches, and synagogues in the Middle East depending on who won the latest war.

The surviving tree was probably little more than a sapling then, young when its religion was old, and escaped the notice of the Christians. Perhaps cutting down the central, most sacred tree in the grove was all that needed to be done to destroy it as a place of religious significance. I remember reading in some early Christian accounts where they destroyed sacred groves, and they usually only destroyed the main tree. The sole surviving sacred yew can be seen on the righthand side of both the photos of the church here.

Cameron Gets His Bike Stolen

The British press has been having a good giggle over Conservative leader David Cameron getting his bike stolen. Cameron has been trying to show himself as the new, greener, kinder face of the Tory party by cycling to work, but having his official car follow him with his briefcase and suit kind of undermines his green credentials.

Still, becoming a victim of petty crime does make him more like one of us. I guess. The fact that he didn't lock it properly shows he doesn't think like one of us.

I'm still sore because when I was writing my guidebook to London, a nun on the Tube said I looked like him.

I most certainly do not!!!!

Raising A Museum Junkie

One of the best parts about parenting is seeing your kid excited about something you love, and I've discovered that Julian is a bit of a museum junkie like his papa. We're in Oxford at the moment, and I've been taking care of him in the mornings while Almudena works, and then she takes over while I work in the afternoons. Part of our morning routine is to go to the Oxford University Museum of Natural History, where he gets to touch ammonites, pet a stuffed cheetah, and stare at dinosaurs. He's even learned how to use the zoom and focus on a microscope, even though he's not yet three.

It's good exercise too, because he runs all over the place. His attention span doesn't stay on anything long (the record is fifteen minutes on the microscope) but he'll flit from display to display for an hour or more before wanting to go off to University Park to play football or climb trees. My proudest moment as a museum-loving dad came when he learned his first dinosaur word--iguanodon!!! He's also learned ammonite, malichite, and tyrannosaurus rex, although he has trouble pronouncing that one.

Do I have a scientist in the making?

Photo of Oxford University Museum of Natural History interior by Michael Reeve, 30 May, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Photo of Iguanodon Bernissartensis at the Museum voor Natuurwetenschappen in Brussels, Belgium by Paul Hermans, 28th of December 2007, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

The Road Has A New Face

One thing that's really struck me lately is how many Chinese tourists there are now. I first started noticing them a few years ago, and can't recall seeing any before that. I did meet a Chinese Christian pilgrim in Jerusalem in 1990, but he was a different story. It's the peak of the tourist season here in Oxford, and there are Chinese tourist groups everywhere, taking photos with expensive-looking digital cameras (mine's made there too!), trying fish and chips, and blocking the sidewalks as they gape at the beautiful architecture. In other words, they're just like tourists from everywhere else. The new money in China seems to be getting spent on the same kind of vacations as elsewhere.

And then there are all those Russian millionaires at the Sotheby's auctions in London. I didn't used to see them ten years ago either.

Wait, Am I In A Different Country?

The irony of doing a blog partly dedicated to travel is you have less time to do it when you're on the road. I got to England last week and stayed a couple of days in London before heading up to Oxford. On my first full day I went to Bloomsbury to check out the bookshops and get a pint at the Museum Tavern, my favorite pub in the area.

Wandering down Museum Street I discovered an obituary in the window of the Ulysses Bookshop. Peter Jolliffe, a well-known local bookdealer and proprietor of the shop, had died last December. You can read about his interesting life here. The notice said he had left some money for local book dealers and buyers to have a wake at The Plough, a pub just down the road. I was a few months late for the wake, but in honor of Peter I decided to head on down and have a pint in his memory. I never knew the guy, because his shop specializes in modern first editions and I collect in different areas, but part of having a community is to show respect, and he earned plenty of that.

As I was drinking in the Plough, I thought, "I'd forgotten how nice this pub is, I should come here more often."

Then it struck me--I can't come here more often. It's in a different country! I'd been in England for almost 24 hours and it hadn't really sunk in that I'd actually crossed a border. I come to London so frequently that I've begun to think of it as an extension of Madrid. Weird. That's never happened to me before. Does coming to England count as traveling anymore?

Well, Peter, it's probably not the kind of thought you were expecting at your wake, but I'll certainly remember you for it.

A Tour of Roman London

One of my favorite free online magazines, Timetravel-Britain, has just published an article I wrote that gives A Tour of Roman London. It was a fun article to write. The City, which is the heart of London's financial district, stands directly atop the old Roman city of Londinium. Sections of the old city wall and even the temple of Mithras can still be seen today. I've always been fascinated by bits of the past sticking out in the modern world.

Sadly, Madrid is a relatively new city. It didn't become capital until Philip II made it so in 1561. Before that it wasn't much of anything, but successive kings built palaces and churches and made it an important city. Later kings tried to imitate Paris, and tore down a lot of the older buildings to make way for wide avenues and parks, so there's not much left of those early centuries. Ah well, I can always go to London for Roman remains, or Segovia, which is much closer!