Southampton- Round 4

Of all the places in England, I keep coming back to Southampton. This is my fourth time now. My journey continues from Swanage to Southampton. Here I will catch the ferry to France-- that is after I make a couple visits. 

I am in the midst of one of them now. I am visiting with an old Palestinian friend who I met in the West Bank eight years ago. Back then I was working for a Canadian NGO out of the computer science department of the University of Birzeit. We met as he was working on his masters and I on web project. My time in Palestine, a relatively brief 6 months, was hands down the most intense of my life. I was living in the chasm between two cultures in conflict forefront on the world stage. Check points, guns and grenades, soldiers and protesters, the oppressed and the oppressors made up my life. I experienced a personal religious melt down, was caught in the country as it virtualy went to war, and was finally evacuated out by the Canadian embassy.  

My friend Ashraf is the first Palestinian, that I have managed to meet up with again since my abrubt departure. He is insightfully articulate on everything from religion, to relationships, to England. We share many things in common, in particular having lived such an intense moment together. Yet, beneath how much we agree and how well we get along, we still come from such different upbringings and places. People don't bike and camp out in Palestine for instance! If you think I am crazy, imagine how crazy he must think I am!  

However, it all makes for great conversation. It certainly beats talking about the weather- a common conversational theme amongst the English! I've told my stories about my time in Palestine so many times over the years that they've started to loose their sheen. Telling them again to Ashraf, someone who was there, gives them new life and new meaning. I sense that the process of sharing these stories with him is really good for me. It was a very difficult and even traumatic time for both of us.  

But its not just talking that bring back the memories. Ashraf and his wife have revelled me with fabulous hospitality-- in particular a sumptous three or four course, home cooked, palestinian meal, complete with arabic coffee.  

I LOVE arabic coffee! Perhaps a little too much. Our conversation carried on until 2:30 in the morning!

Weymouth-- on the beach

The sun pours in through the windows of the Starbucks.  Aside from a few sniffles its a beautiful day.  A beautiful day in the port city of Weymouth with Louisa.  The fine white sand beach is lined with old houses and stores.  The harbour is filled with fancy sail boats and skips. A rare sunny day has the street filled with passerbys and retired English folks out to soak in the warmth.

Louisa and I have just come from sitting on the sand eating our sandwiches-- with the fresh salty breeze caressing our skin and blowing through our hair.  We leisurely sat watching the boats bob and the children playing in the sand, while the gulls swooped and cawed in hope of a nip of our crusts. 

I am coming down with a bit of a flu.  I hope that the worst is over.  Nonetheless it taints my moments with a certain hazy lightness.  It adds to the feeling that this is all  a dream.  

My coffee now waits patiently besides me.  Louisa casusally touches my shoulder as she looks out the window.  James Brown jives on the stereo.  The sun continues to shine.

The Sunday Roast

Its really rather astounding.   When I began my cycling journey, I certainly never expected I would be enjoying a good old Sunday roast-- if anything an endless array of solitary meals on my little camp stove.  Sunday Roasts are a near forgotten family tradition for me.   I fondly remember sitting around the dinner table while my dad carved up a lamb or beef roast as the mashed potatoes were passed around the table amongst my clamoring brothers and sisters.   

Yet, there it was, in all its dazzling splendour before me.   My friend had just served up a roast leg of lamb, garnished with caraway jacket potatoes, beans, carrots and a tremendously decadent gravy.  We all clinked wine glasses and toasted to "Russell"-- an apropos toast as his name is also Russell.  

I happen to LOVE lamb.  Russell's did not disapoint.   The lamb was done to perfection in the tradition of Russell's own Welsh family recipe.  What a wonderful meal.   It won't be forgotten anytime soon.

But it wasn't just the food.  I have been staying with a handful of English folk who work at a hostel here in Swanage.  They all live together in a large communal house.  I've been here the two weeks, and they've opened up gracefully to let me stay in their midst.    The cooking has been going on back and forth-- the other week I  cooked up some of my famous Canadian Potatoe Soup (see the Maier family recipe) the other weekend as we played a game of scrabble. 

 Its been all been an unbeleivably rich immersion into English culture.   You simply can't plan or even pay for something like this!   The meals have just been one of many great experiences getting to know these folks.

When I travel I love meeting people.  Staying and making friends with these great folks has not only a culinary experience, but an experience in English accents, television, comedy, humour, and... love.

Mandala Project News Story

OK... I can now add the link:

UPI Story

Massive Misfortune... or is that Fortune?

A good friend, recently commented that all I seem to write about is good news.

Well, Vaughn, today I can write about some bad news!

But, before I launch in, I must clarify, that I haven't had much bad news of late.  Misfortune has had a strange and much abundant tendency of turning from bad to good... given a little patience.

  I write this from outside the Apple Store in Southampton, UK.  My Macbook was damaged by dampness last week-- this would be perhaps the most cataclysmically bad thing for a traveling artist/cyclist-- yet it has turned into the most joyful and luminous of adventures.  I have been waiting the fix of my Macbook in the small Seaside town of Swanage.

In my time here, I have been shown a great time by a beautiful English lass-- from castles to coastal cliffs.  I now type, with great relief, on my fixed macbook.  Incredibly, a providential visit to Southampton enable me to have my laptop fixed with two days left on the warranty. 

Allejuia!  I cannot get over how stupendously blessed I am.

But yes... back to today.  HOLY MOLY... who would have thought that a little tiny hole could cause such grief?  I small flat took SEVEN tries to patch.  A jaunt of 16 kms took 5 hours as I went from one patch and pump to the next.  Running out of patches, loosing my valve adapter, and yes, some prolific cursing.  I met more English people today than in the whole last week however, as my circumstances invited all sorts of people to stop and offer me assistance.

Basically the universe put me to work today, to give people a chance to help a stranger!

So, here I am, delayed an extra day on my trip to Southampton.  Its getting dark, but thank goodness, my tire is finally holding air.

No proof reading of this entry!  I will be camping in the Dorset New Forest tonight with the deer and wild horses and silver moon.

Mandala project makes news on UPI.com but I can't add link because I type this on my iPod! Do a search for 'Maier'

OK... I can now add the link:

UPI Story

Soaked in Swanage

There hasn't been much word from me of later.  My computer has met with a damp demise in two unrelenting days of rain cycling towards the coast and France.  I write from the mac store on a display computer as the great geniuses here deal with my disaster.

Hopefully the world will hear again from me soon...  

on my much missed computer.