Secret maps

Amy O1 Comment

We woke very early in Cambridge and had breakfast at a Pret a Manger in probably the fanciest building we’d ever encountered for this establishment. A man was seated nearby waiting for his friend, while a man at another table drolly asked him if he intended to attend the parade to celebrate the Battler of Agincourt’s 575th anniversary. The Battle of Agincourt was one of few battles won by the British in the 100 Years’ War with France. The man waiting for his friend responded he would not attend the fictional parade; rather he would celebrate later with a bottle of wine. “Not French wine, I hope,” quipped the historical savant.

My husband had won the aBode shower lottery for the second day running. Warm for him, lukewarm for me. We headed for hopefully greener pastures with a fairly uneventful trip from Canterbury West to Charing Cross. The train had been nearly empty leaving Canterbury but became jam-packed, stop by stop, by the time we reached London. We had been wondering how on earth the Southeastern train system is able to run with any form of profitability considering how empty almost every train we’d been on over four days had been. It appears to work similar to Christmas for retailers. All the money must be made on trains as they approach stops close to London.

By the time we arrived in London, it was raining again, but our hotel was reasonably close by way of a funny alley. Our new hotel in London, The Grand at Trafalgar Square, met the new financial criteria to which my husband and I agreed before the trip. They weren’t ready to check us in, but checked our luggage and showed us to a nice lounge where we could regroup and make a latte. The hotel seemed pretty fancy for our new price point.

We were intending to meet a friend later in the day who was coming into London from California with her adult children. Their original flight had been cancelled and their new flight would be later. So we bought tickets for the Secret Maps exhibit at the British Library to stay occupied. We’ve been to the British Library twice in the past, once for the Treasures exhibit, years ago, and once for the Medieval Women exhibit earlier this year. The British Library has super interesting documents to start with, and they pull together such interesting narrative and themes for their exhibits.

This exhibit about secret maps was the best I’ve seen there. It just never occurred to me how interesting the history of maps is and how they were used–to share information as well as to obscure, deflect, and mislead to maintain an upper hand–commercially, politically, in warfare. Also, how many different kinds of maps there have been to be used for these purposes, including maps of land masses, trade routes, the heavens, escape routes, war equipment and assets. And how maps were shared with the right people.

After viewing the exhibit, we checked into our hotel, learning that The Grand is part of the Club Quarters chain. We’ve only stayed at this chain once on one of our trips many years ago. There’s a lot of work and lounge space in the hotel and it’s quite fancy. I noted that this would have been a good hotel for the times I worked from London last year. In contrast, the rooms are pretty basic and small. But, hey, hot water both days we need it. A win.

Speaking of maps used for deception, it’s long been a thing that Mikel Arteta keeps things close to the vest in his press conferences before a match. He tells the truth and nothing but the truth, but with regard to injuries, it’s often not the whole truth. There is often someone who came off the last match limping, of whom Arteta will truthfully say in his next press conference before a match whether the player has been in practice that week. But often he’ll say they’ll evaluate them on match day and see how things stand. Then that player may show up as a starter, or as a sub, or we’ll find out after the match he’ll have surgery tomorrow and will be out for at least three months.

Gabriel Magalhaes, big Gabi, came off in the match against Atletico Madrid with about 20 minutes left to play and it looked like something was not quite right with him. Arteta had said in his pre-match press conference for Crystal Palace that he was unsure whether Gabi would play against Crystal Palace. “Let’s see how he evolves,” he said. Arsenal is having a wonderful defensive season and a lot of the reason has been the play of Big Gabi. His partnership with William Saliba is considered among the best in the Premier League. And obviously, he’s been important for delivering goals from set plays. Either he heads it in himself or places where someone else can finish up the job.

But Arsenal’s defense is not only good because of Gabriel and Saliba; the whole team contributes to Arsenal’s overall stability. Arsenal has held every team goalless since September 28, yes, but teams hadn’t even been able to register a shot on target. And we’ve seen some great play from the person who can deputize Big Gabi, Christhian Mosquera. So losing Big Gabi would not be ideal, but it’s not a horrible situation either.

Arteta also used his press conference to encourage fans to bring the noise and spirit. “Play the game with us,” he requested. “If we’re going to win the league, everybody has to turn up.”

On that backdrop we arrived at the stadium the next day having spent a morning walking in the Tower Hill area and having had a nice lunch. We got to the stadium a bit late but still made time to walk through the Armoury and, as has lately been our habit, buying nothing. My husband and I were sitting apart from each other but both in the west stands. He was high up near the half way line; I was in Club near the North end. My seats were just about even with the D at the top of the penalty box. We had had a pretty easy time getting tickets for this match, none of the usual drama and not very many clicks.

I arrived at my seat with very little time to spare before the teams came out of the tunnel. There was something odd about my section that made it a little less straightforward to access from any direction and it took me some time to find the right passages. My section had quite a few human season ticket holders in it, and I’ve found that those areas of Club are almost as much fun as being in other parts of the stadium. Lots of spirit.

The whole stadium seemed to be taking Arteta’s request to heart. A lively atmosphere considering the opponent was Crystal Palace. Technically a derby, but usually one without as much of the usual rancor. This even though Crystal Palace managed to produce a tie in our last match at The Emirates.

One possible point of drama was that Eberechi Eze came to us from Crystal Palace. As I recall, he scored one of the goals in the match at the Emirates last year. The woman to the left of me wondered aloud whether Eze would celebrate if he scored a goal against Crystal Palace. There is some nonsense where players who score against their former team will not celebrate so as to be kind to their former club. To date, the Crystal Place fans have been notably classy about losing Eze to Arsenal. He did a lot for them. They appreciate that. Eze has played pretty well for Arsenal but has only scored one goal this season, in the Carabou cup. It seemed we probably would not find out the answer to that question on the day.

In contrast, Declan Rice came to Arsenal from West Ham under similar circumstances but while producing £105 million in revenue for his former club. Money that could be used to strengthen the West Ham team beyond replacing this one player. But Declan Rice gets tortured when he plays against West Ham. They do not forgive him at all. Rice didn’t score against West Ham in his first season with Arsenal. He did manage to score against them in early October at the Emirates. And while he did not celebrate the goal he scored right in front of the visiting fans, he appeared to make eye contact. A bit of a glare, I felt.

An example of a player who did celebrate against his former team: Arsenal had a player named Emmanuel Adebayor from 2006 to 2009, when he was sold to Manchester City. The first time Arsenal faced Man City at Man City’s stadium, Adebayor scored a goal against Arsenal and then ran the whole length of the pitch to celebrate in front of the Arsenal fans, who rioted. I’m sure he was receiving a ton of schtick from the Arsenal fans before that decision. The process of losing players was so painful at that time. You felt so insulted when someone chose to leave.

I was so late to my seat I didn’t have time to check out the line-up. As soon as the players came out of the tunnel, there was Big Gabi, clearly in the starting line-up. Quite a relief. And Eze, of course.

All the usual ceremony took place. Good old Arsenal (blah), North London forever (yay) and finally the kick-off.

Many times I’ve been asked why I fell in love with Arsenal. Although I fell in love well in advance of the Premier League being picked up by NBC sports in 2013, I remember a great article in the sporting press in conjunction with the rollout campaign for NBC about how, now that everyone would be able to watch every match, someone could go about selecting a team to support. It was described as being akin to the sorting hat in Harry Potter. Just watch the soccer and a team will be magically chosen for you.

I was watching soccer with my kids and husband on Fox soccer channel well before that and had that sorting hat experience after watching Arsenal a few times. When I try to verbalize why Arsenal was chosen, I say I’m a sucker for beautiful, flowing soccer. Arsene Wenger, Arsenal’s manager at the time, also appeared to have a weakness for that beauty. His teams were stacked with players with technical ability. People who could complete the beautiful pass, deception with the ball, a tricky dribble, a back heal, a lovely, arcing shot. But Arsenal was also naive in spirit and porous in defense. The Arsenal of old could also not break down a low block, but it was very susceptible to counterattacks.

But now, Arsenal is not that. This is not really a pretty team. So why has the sorting hat not rethought my options?

I’ve heard it said that the reason is Arsenal fans are hypocritical. Speaking only for me, I think I’ve become more mature as an appreciator of the sport. Not just the overtly pretty things, but things that are less obvious. I have learned that what I want and what Mikel Arteta wants are often two different things. And when someone knows more than you and sees things you never could and whose job hangs in the balance, it may make sense to try to respect that. And try to learn what that person is attempting to achieve. What is the objective when working from the back? What is the objective of the horseshoe of death (as we call it when Arsenal’s defenders are passing from right to left and back to right)? Why has Arteta selected this player in this situation and a different player in another situation? What are the different ways Arsenal attacks a set piece? I’ve learned to appreciate winning a duel, laying down a great tackle, working in concert to ensure our defensive team is the last line of defense and not the first line. And, of course, all the different ways to produce a deceptive set piece.

And when I approach a match with not just excitement, but also curiosity, a match that might have felt tedious to me feels interesting and like a learning experience. The Crystal Palace match, especially in the first half, was probably the poster child for a match I would have formerly found tedious, but at this time found fascinating. And with regard to my fellow fans at the stadium, I would say almost every time they might be starting to feel frustrated, they reacted by trying to lift up the team with chanting. Arteta’s request had clearly been heard.

Crystal Palace of course deployed a low block and Arsenal of course struggled to unlock it. I can only remember one shot on goal. And when Arsenal did unlock it, guess how?

Set piece again, olé olé. One of the Crystal Palace’s players briefly lost the plot near the end of the first half and fouled Saka, giving up a free kick, which Declan Rice took. At least 20,000 fans in the stadium picked up their phones and started taking video, including the man to my right. The ball Declan kicked naturally came to Big Gabi, who was facing Declan and away from the goal and who headed it back toward the edge of the penalty area. Eze came running in and struck the ball in a very odd way. Since the match, I’ve heard the kick he made referred to as a karate kick, a scissor kick, a hitch kick, a forward bicycle kick, and probably a few other things.

Whatever. It rocketed into the net.

Answer to the question posed at the top of the match by my seat mate: Eze did not really celebrate. He kind of also did not not celebrate.

We celebrated enough to make up for whatever it was he was doing.

At halftime I went to concessions and stood in a long line of people getting beer and ultimately picked up a cup of tea. One of the beers Arsenal is now serving at the stadium is Guinness. It takes a long time to pour a Guinness–I wonder if they regret that? The lady next to me complained fiercely to me about the inefficiency of the process of serving beer. Beer is available at no added charge to those in Club. Ergo, a lot of people want one. I appreciated her decision to read me into her frustration and nodded sympathetically, even though my empathy was not really piqued.

In the second half, Arsenal had a lot of chances right in front of me, just no success scoring. Hitting the bar, goal keeper saves, a lot of excitement, not much payout. Some set pieces that did not produce a goal.

Arsenal’s former player Eddie Nketiah was introduced late in the match to the applause of both home and away fans. Eze was withdrawn about 5 minutes from the end of normal time to the applause both home and away fans.

Toward the end, everyone seemed so tired and Crystal Palace did make some progress challenging toward the goal. I think Arteta was very willing to trust our defensive stability and not worry so much about scoring again. As much as Arteta does not worry. Whatever we are seeing on the field and however we might try to understand and appreciate it, there appears to always be something more he is looking for. I guess we are all growing up together but he’s working on it well ahead of most of us.

The match ended 1-0. The only shot registered by statisticians as being “on target” against Arsenal was this weird thing from Eddie Nketiah that David Raya easily caught. Arsenal’s six matches in October ended with no goals scored against it and only one shot taken by an opponent–Eddie Nketiah’s–being ruled “on target.”

My husband and I normally meet after the match at the Arsene Wenger statue. I got confused with the unusual set-up of my section and headed the wrong way out of the stadium. It took me forever to figure out my mistake. So long, and with crowds so thick. it just made sense to keep walking. It was raining again and when I arrived my husband was waiting under building near the statue.

We walked in the rain back to Arsenal station, 3 points in our raincoat pockets and plans for a nice dinner with our California friends.

On a clear day

Amy O3 Comments

With the rain in the rear view window, we woke early and visited Cafe St. Pierre for breakfast. I had the “French breakfast” which was the croissant of your choice, a baguette with butter and jam, and a “bowl” of coffee. I thought maybe they just meant a large cup, but they really did mean a bowl. I had to lift it up and slurp it like a cat. (I hope that is what I was meant to do.) Lot of carbs in that breakfast but we had an active day planned.

Shower Report for the day: After the hotel invested a bit of time evaluating and fixing the prior day, water heat was by now a bit of a lottery. My husband won the warm shower and I won the lukewarm one. Steps in the right direction.

We took the train from Canterbury’s other station, Canterbury East, to Dover. It was quite a beautiful ride through cute towns and forests on a nearly empty train.

You should probably never judge a town by the appearance around its train station, but Dover seemed surprisingly gritty. We searched out a Welcome Center, which turned out to be associated with the Dover Museum and Bronze Age Boat Gallery. My husband was familiar with the bronze-age boat on display and asked about it in the Welcome area. They invited us to head up and see it on the top floor of the museum.

The boat was found near Dover in some sludge in 1992 during a construction project. Later evaluation determined it to be about 3,500 years old, the oldest boat ever found in the world. The original boat is displayed in a giant glass case. It’s in unbelievably good condition. As with many archeological finds, the discovery of this boat adds to our understanding of how humans lived many years ago and what they were capable of.

The exhibit included displays of bronze-age tools such as may have been used to build the boat. Because the boat was missing the back end, it also included an exhibit on how archeologists have built theories for what the back of the boat may have been like. I thought that was super interesting. Interesting to experience the thought process of curious and knowledgeable people.

My favorite exhibit walked through an exercise that had been completed after the boat was found. A modern team attempted to replicate how the boat was built using bronze-age tools. They were able to build a replica of the boat (part of which is in the museum) in 6 weeks. In theory, the original builders probably were more familiar with the tools and boat building and could have completed it more quickly. But, in a bit of shade thrown by the people replicating the process, they concluded that, in part, it took them the long 6 weeks also because they also tried to provide beautiful finishes which the original team had not. That also provided clues as to the use of the boat. It was utilitarian and probably not ceremonial. But it certainly stood the test of time.

From the Welcome Center we walked over to the harbor and up the shore until we reached where the path is accessed to go up on the famous cliffs. The harbor is a functional harbor from which a number of huge ferries left or returned from trips over to France. It is not a beautiful stretch and sits right next to an extremely busy road. There are some cute cottages as you seek the path but they do not have a pretty view.

We climbed up and up the path. The wind was whipping but with the steepness of the path I became overheated pretty quickly. I stopped to remove my raincoat to finish the rest of the climb. On a clear day it’s possible to see France across the channel and we could make out the outline in the distance. In fact, we were close enough to France from the cliffs of Dover that T-Mobile sent me a text welcoming me to France and explaining the rates for texts and calls.

We were starting to be in a space that was far more beautiful than gritty. We could see the beautiful white cliffs, rolling hills, grazing sheep, the Dover castle. Even the harbor, which had seemed so industrial near the bottom, was pretty as we got higher on the cliffs.

At some point we had to make a decision about taking the high road or the low road. Our choice lead us very close to the edge of the cliffs. Although I’ve done a lot of Colorado hiking and skiing in my life, I’m not super comfortable with heights and I sensed my husband was also not so comfortable near the edge. We did all right and ultimately came to the part of the path that’s not so “out there.”

Our destination on the trail was the South Foreland Lighthouse. To reach it you go through a field of giant cattle. On the first floor of the lighthouse there is a cute little tea shop called Mrs. Knott’s Tearoom. It has a limited selection of items but who cares? It has cream team, which as we know means scones and clotted cream. It was served in lovely china in a beautiful room. It was a delicious way to celebrate the mid point of our hike.

We intended to go to Dover castle after our hike and, while we could see the castle from the cliffs, there is really no way to get to it without leaving the cliffs. So we hiked back down and then walked up a different hill, more or less in town, to get up to the castle.

If you may remember, my husband hurt his back on our last trip to England and it was not healed for this trip. He was able to do most things, but I tried to help with his luggage on stairs from airport to tube to hotel and carrying our shared backpack on our trips around Kent to try to preserve his ability to tour. He was still using heating belts to keep his back limber.

We had already walked more than 16,000 steps and 111 floors (so says Apple) and I felt maybe we could admit a small defeat and take a cab up to Dover castle. My husband would not hear of it. I’ll admit I was cursing his not-good-at-that-moment name as we climbed up the new hill. The fact is, we won’t always be able to do what we used to be able to do in the way we could do it. I hope over time we’ll be able to adjust our travel to fit our bodily realities and not have to stop travelling just because we can’t do it the way we used to. i.e., we may not always be able to hoist our luggage up and down stairs of stations on the Piccadilly line. Admittedly the cab in this case was for me as much as it was for him. I was pretty tired.

Now I’ve exposed you to the key conflicts in our household at the start of my retirement. My husband worries about spending too much money and I worry about losing our health while pushing to do things our bodies may be on the verge of no longer being able to do. My husband, the one with the sore back, seems to feel that he is not getting any older physically. In fact, this morning (a few weeks after this trip) he told me my feelings about aging are “a self-fulfilling prophesy.” I’m pretty sure our bodies will themselves fulfill my prophesy and, you know, “My Body, My Self,” so I can’t argue with his statement even though I suspect it will go down a bit differently than he intended with that turn of phrase.

But–this time–we made it to the top and made some quick calculations of what we’d be able to do at the castle. We were running out of time and it turned out there was a lot more to see and do at the castle than I had realized. This was not just another medieval castle (although it also was that), this area was used to protect England during modern wars also. Assuming it is ok to consider the World Wars as “modern.” There was also an very old church on the site. I think it would be easy to spend a full day at Dover castle.

We decided to hit the church and the medieval castle and skip the “modern” wartime tunnels, fire command post, underground hospital, etc. It was a tough call because those things looked very interesting.

The St. Mary in Castro church was built around 1500 years ago, probably on the site of a much earlier church. It apparently was a building that was not affected like other churches by the boring people coming in and demanding that color be removed. It had beautiful, colorful tiles in walls and ceilings, in addition to lovely windows. It’s a functional church. We had very little information about it as we toured, but it was lovely to be in. Next to the church sits a Roman lighthouse that’s been converted into a bell tower. Pretty cool.

We explored the castle proper. Although a building of some sort was in place during the Roman occupation and was damaged and rebuilt following the Norman invasion, the medieval castle as it exists now formed under Henry II, who we met yesterday as the person responsible–accidentally or intentionally– for Thomas Becket’s death. We walked through the external walls and the grassy enclosure and then through the keep. It was quite large with several floors to explore.

The way the castle was exhibited with representative but somewhat cartoonish furnishings was quite a lot like the castle at Norwich we toured last month. Similar set-up geared well for kids to explore. This castle was in much better shape, though. Because it was before Halloween, what the kids seemed most interested in in the castle was a worker dressed up for Halloween like a witch.

My favorite part of the castle was he views from the roof. It was unbelievably windy up there but you could see all over town, out on the country side, over to the cliffs. Beautiful.

We made our way down the hill again with sheep visible grazing in the moat of the castle. Our next destination was the rail station. We had decided to take the train to Deal, which we had not been able to visit as planned on our recent trip to Sandwich. The plan was to see Deal and have dinner before heading back to Canterbury where my husband was hoping to join his Italian language class online.

However, by the time we arrived in Deal we had new learnings about the train schedule and our time was going to be much shorter than we had originally understood. I had found a restaurant close to the station with acceptable ratings that also looked like it might make for a quick dinner, The Lane. It was early for dinner and there were very few people in the restaurant. Upstairs there was a Wicked-themed birthday party going on and the sound system in the restaurant was playing “For good.”

You may have noticed from my recent reports of what I’ve eaten in various places, except for breakfast, I’ve been leaning toward soups and salads. It was that point of traveling when your body demands vegetables. But when I sat down at the table at The Lane and reviewed the menu, my body demanded, of all things, a hot dog. And chips.

As you know, I live in the suburbs of Chicago, and what Chicago is known for, in addition to deep-dish pizza, is hot dogs. And I love a hot dog with everything that a Chicago dog normally comes with, except sport peppers. Tomatoes, relish, celery salt, a dill pickle spear, onions, mustard. Never ketchup. If you ask for ketchup in Chicago you will be abused. Sport peppers are a little too spicy for me and I’m in danger of having a sneezing fit when I eat them. Then it just becomes a Whole Thing. I remember ordering hot dogs in the Chicago Loop at lunchtime when I was working downtown. I would always say “Dog with everything except sport peppers.” And the worker would always repeat back my order, “Dog with everything, extra sport peppers.”

I digress, big time. The “classic” hot dog I ordered at The Lane was not a Chicago hot dog, but instead had on it ketchup, mustard, pickles, and “crispy onions.” As it arrived at my table I noticed it was HUGE. I figured I could manage about half that. I didn’t take a picture of it because it was just a hot dog. Then I took a bite. It was messy but the most amazing and yummy thing I’ve eaten for a while (this on a day I had scones and clotted cream). Maybe it was the crispy onions that made it so good? Maybe it was just a better quality hot dog? Maybe I was just really hungry after so much walking? I changed my mind and took a picture of part of it. My husband seemed to enjoy his tacos as much as I did the hot dog. And I did eat the whole thing.

As we were leaving, we asked the server if she had suggestions about what we should do if we had only 20 minutes in Deal. The thing she could think of was a local bar with a two-for-one drink special. I know she had just witnessed us eating our meal in a hurry and that may have made an impression, but I don’t think I could do two drinks in 20 minutes. In any case, we were not up for the challenge.

We thanked her and walked 5 minutes to the shore, took in the shops along the street next to the shore and the pier.

Deal is a cute little town, worthy of more than a 20-minute tour some day. But we had a train to catch and an Italian class to attend back at our temporary home in Canterbury.

Canterbury Tales

Amy O2 Comments

We woke to a raw, wet day, endured the cold showers I mentioned in my last post, and then walked several blocks to the highly recommended Refectory Kitchen for breakfast. We made a point to sit far from the door and were quickly served a much-needed warm drink. My husband had a dish called “Green eggs and ham” (green because of pesto) and I had a French toast with blueberry compote. Great way to start the day.

We steeled ourselves and walked through the rain in our practical footwear over to the Canterbury Cathedral. We’ve seen a lot of Cathedrals lately and I know that, to some people, they start to be all alike. While it may be true that many parts of the physical cathedral are similar to others, what I usually find so interesting is the unique history of the people connected with the Cathedral. The Cathedral at Canterbury has a notably colorful history. We used the audio tour available and found it interesting and useful.

Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer includes imagined stories of pilgrims who traveled to Canterbury Cathedral. I read parts of it either in high school or college and, although I’ve forgotten so much from many books I’ve read, the details in some of those stories are still fresh in my mind.

People made the pilgrimage to Canterbury in homage to Thomas Becket. Thomas Becket had been a nobleman and friend of King Henry II who was made Archbishop Of Canterbury. Kings and archbishops had great power over the subjects and King Henry II had reason to believe that by installing the like-minded Becket he would be able to exert more influence on the church. But as soon as Becket was made Archbishop, he began to go his own way to the great frustration of the king.

What happened ultimately is in dispute. Henry II either A) sent soldiers to kill Becket or B) said something innocuous that made the soldiers incorrectly believe they were being sent to kill Becket. Regardless of Henry II’s actual intent, the soldiers went to Canterbury and killed Becket inside the Cathedral.

Now martyred, he was named a saint by the Pope. And although pilgrims previously trickled to Canterbury Cathedral, Becket’s martyrdom and subsequent canonization turned that trickle into a deluge. Becket’s remains are buried in the cathedral and formerly could be viewed by visitors who were willing to pay for the privilege. I believe that is not possible today. (Maybe I should have displayed my crypto.)

The site where Becket was murdered is commemorated with some art that includes representations of the swords of the soldiers.

I’m a sucker for the cloisters in a Cathedral. It was still dark and rainy when I stepped out and took these photos which I think made them feel even more alive. You can just picture hundreds of years of monks coming and going.

My husband and I also loved the area called the Chapter House, which served as a place where monks learned the rules of the order. The carvings in the ceiling are gorgeous.

In the crypts, the sculpture called Transport is especially interesting. Created by British artist Antony Gormley, it’s made of nails from the Cathedral formed in the shape and size of a typical human body. It hangs from the ceiling using wires or strings. Photos aren’t allowed in the crypt but I found a picture of the sculpture online here. My husband enjoyed the display in the Water Tower that described how ink was made back in the day and also included a pocket sundial.

There is only one monarch entombed in the Cathedral, Henry IV. His uncle Edward, referred to as the Black Prince, is entombed close by. The Black Prince has an inscription on his tomb: “Such as thou art, sometimes was I, Such as I am such thou shalt be.” There is a lot more gory detail in the inscription, but that’s a good summary. You’re no different from me. The end is coming and you can’t avoid it.

As with all Cathedrals, there are some beautiful stained glass windows as well as some very plain windows that were forced into place during periods in history in which the powers that be disliked color in church and got rid of it. Or that had been removed to protect them from bombing in World War II and then had to be painstakingly reinstalled. Or that had not been removed and had been bombed and replaced. I particularly enjoyed the windows created by the Hungarian artist Ervin Bossanyi that were installed in 1960 and commemorate themes around World War II, salvation and peace.

We took a lunch break at a cute Mexican restaurant called Cafe des Amis du Mexique. I had a salad that was so yummy I’ve tried to recreate it at home. Don’t quite have it right as of this writing. I really enjoyed the papier mache art on the walls by Total Pap, which was available for sale.

With the rain now stopped, we took a short walk along the River Stour.

Our final serious destination for the afternoon was the Canterbury Roman museum.

This museum is built on the site where a Roman floor mosaic was unearthed by a public works drainage modernization project. Later, work to excavate rubble from World War II bombings exposed further elements of a Roman home on the same site. These elements are encased and visible for viewing in the museum. Prior to the section of the museum that contains the Roman house, there are interesting exhibits about Roman history in England and Roman life. By the time you get to the excavation site, you feel awfully darned smart about the Romans.

We ended the day with a nice walk through town and along the river and dinner at the oldest pub in Canterbury, the Parrot, dating back to the 1400s. Pretty cool place for a pint.

Charing Cross to Royal St. George’s

Amy O1 Comment

We had such a wonderful time in East Anglia on our last trip that, with four days between matches on this trip, we decided to spend some time in Kent. The regional train system is a bit different there from East Anglia. Instead of a pass you can use any three days over a seven-day period, you can buy a three-day pass. That worked well for us given the relatively shorter time we would have in Kent versus East Anglia.

On Wednesday morning we got up relatively early to get on a train from Charing Cross. As we waited for the track the train would be on to be announced at Charing Cross, some workers were handing out samples for an immunity drink called Moju. In contrast with other samples I’ve seen handed out around London, this one seemed very popular with the arriving passengers. I saw very few decline the small bottle. My husband decided to give it a try. He was unimpressed. “Unimpressed” is the wrong word. He seems to think that rather than being given this spicy mango juice for free at the train station, people should be paid to drink it. Hopefully, he is now immune to whatever it is that Moju will guard against. After his critique, I decided to take my chances with the germs that be.

We ultimately boarded the train and rode to Swanly, changing again at Sevenoaks to ride the rest of the way to the Canterbury West station. The weather was brisk as we waited for the train changes and I was glad I had my hat and gloves.

We were expecting rain the next day, Thursday, so we designated Thursday as the day we would spend time in Canterbury. After arriving in Canterbury on Wednesday, it was our plan to drop our luggage off at our hotel, aBode Canterbury, grab a quick lunch, and then take the train to Sandwich.

Canterbury city center is roughly in a circle, like Chicago’s Loop but a thousand times smaller. (That may not be a factual representation of scale.) aBode is on High street, which cuts the circle in half, quite well located. One of the things we noticed right away on our way to the hotel was signs for punt boat operators in Canterbury. Since we had just done that in Cambridge, it was not in our plans for this trip.

We completed all the steps of our actual plan, returning to the train station to get the next train to Sandwich. What he had planned to do in Sandwich was find the Saxon Shoreway trail that allows you to walk South along the coast for seven miles to a town called Deal.

We successfully found the trail but took what I perceived as a detour on the part of the path that went through The Royal St. George’s Golf Club. I’m not a golfer, have golfed maybe three times in my life excluding the decidedly not-real golf activity of mini golf. My husband, on the other hand, is a prolific golfer and also loves to watch the sport. As an insomniac, I watch the sport when I desperately need to catch up on sleep. In retrospect, my husband was doing the navigating at this point, so I suspect the “detour” to the golf course was not quite as unplanned as I may have initially believed.

I think golfers and non-golfers can all agree that most golf courses are quite lovely places to be. As we arrived on the public foot path at the edge of the course, I could see that the Royal St. George’s was something special. Undulating hills, amazing shadowy bunkers, grassy roughs and the sun shining just so on all of it. The pubic foot path goes right through the course on its way to the Sandwich Bay. At the edge of the course we stopped in the Pro shop which was open to the public and my husband reviewed some gaudy shirts, which he appeared not to be tempted to buy. Then we followed the path over the course and across the street to the Bay.

I gave my husband a chance to review this before I published it and it was very important to him that I make sure you understand that this course was the host of 15 British Opens and that he merely hoped to be able to see it from the path. The fact that he got to walk across this hallowed ground was both a surprise and a life experience he treasures.

By the time we reached the bay we had hiked quite a long way and I was ready to find a bathroom. We had seen no bathroom options since leaving the train and there clearly were none along the path to Deal. It was also getting to be a bit late to start a big hike and we suspected it might be dark before we arrived in Deal. So we made a decision to turn back toward town and see what there was to see in Sandwich.

As we left the golf course we saw two golfers starting a round with their dogs. What a place to walk your dog.

In Sandwich we stopped at the lovely Bell Hotel near the water and had a drink and an early dinner on the porch. I had wild mushrooms on toast and a tomato pepper soup along with a gin & tonic.

While the patio was bathed in sun, it was lovely. As the sun went down, a cloud of mosquitoes emerged so we closed shop and headed to the train station. Even the train station, which was pretty far from the water, had a lot of mosquitoes. We kept moving up and down the platform until the train came to avoid them.

Upon arriving back in Canterbury we were able to check into our room. The backstory of our hotel selection in Canterbury was that after we returned from our last London trip, the one in which we traveled through East Anglia, my husband did something he had never done following a trip to London. He counted up every expenditure we had made and worried about it. Not having a paycheck coming in has been a real mental challenge for him and, in a life that did not include me, I think he’d be tempted to live on his Social Security check.

As I mentioned before, my job before I was retired was helping my employer create financial planning software for planners employed by our firm. The software could complete a monte carlo analysis to understand, based on assets and likely expenditures, what is the probability you’ll have enough money to live on for the rest of your life. I used software many times to run our own projections. To be clear, I have some guilt about using money in this way in a world that has so many needs, but I know we can afford these trips for a while. It would be ideal and better for our financial future if Arsenal could just go ahead and win the Premier League this year.

In any case, I realized that the hotel price point we originally set when we started this going-to-London-to-watch-Arsenal thing had slid upward a bit over time, maybe more than inflation would suggest, and it’s been a long time since we had anything but a great hotel experience. To give my husband greater peace of mind, I suggested that we could downgrade our preferred price point and save a bit there and take a bit more risk that maybe every place we stay is not delightful. So this trip, that’s what we tried to do. We could not do it for the first weekend in London–hotels were just too tight due to what seemed to be Diwali celebrations and a literature convention–but we did it for our hotel in Canterbury and for our hotel after our return to London.

And on this backdrop, I can tell you our hotel in Canterbury was maybe not the luxe experience that you long to reach at the end of the day but was just fine. Our room was spacious, had wooden floors which I like, and nice lighting that made it appear to have more character than maybe it actually had. The bathroom was fine and had a combined shower/tub combo. It had a very functional towel warmer that like all towel warmers, it seems, was not quite close enough for you to be able to reach from the tub. You have to either remove it first and place it closer (no longer warm) or not remove it before your shower and stand dripping on the floor to retrieve it (beautifully warm). Or, what I did at the aBode, call my husband to deliver it. This warm towel became especially important, as I’ll explain.

But first, some context. On the train ride to Canterbury we had been reading in sports news that on the day before the match we had just seen, Atletico Madrid had held a practice at the Emirates. Upon arriving they noticed that the hot water was not functional in the visitors’ locker rooms and had complained to the club. They ended up having to shower back at their hotel and made an official complaint against Arsenal. Arsenal was ultimately forced to apologize. Arsenal’s side of the story was that upon learning the hot water was not working they managed to restore it before the end of the scheduled practice, but Atletico had ended their practice early. Both an excuse and maybe a bit of shade against the team Arsenal just beat. Maybe practice a bit longer and you’ll have both hot water and a win.

In any case, when I woke up on Thursday my husband informed me I was about to get a lesson in empathy. Our room, which had very warm towels available assuming appropriate steps were taken, had no hot water.

For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve had the same problem

Amy O2 Comments

As we were on the tube from Fulham to get back to Central London earlier in the day, two young boys and their mothers entered the train at one of the stops. The boys sat in seats next to me and the mothers sat a few seats away. I took very little notice of them until, through my own reverie, I overheard one of the boys say to the other “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve had the same problem: Impatience.”

I did a double take at the boys because my recollection had been they were very young. Too young for one to make an observation like that. Too young for impatience “as long as I’ve known you” to have been a flaw that might not ultimately be outgrown. Sure enough, they were maybe 5 years old.

The Accused boy was quite interested in understanding this fault in himself. The boys had a very reasoned discussion about why it was perceived that the problem of impatience existed in the Accused. They good naturedly turned to the question of whether it was the Accuser who never wanted to play what the Accused wanted to play or whether, in fact, it was Accused who never wanted to play what the Accuser wanted to play. In conclusion, they both delighted in looking at a cute dog on the platform at a stop.

This conversation came back to me as I was watching the Atletico Madrid match because, as always, you did feel a lot of impatience inside that stadium. But as we know, sometimes patience pays off. We also know that sometimes it never does.

We had been fortunate for this match. For the first time this season, my husband and I were successful in the ballot. We had seats together and they were cool ones, row six in the southwest corner of the field. It’s been so long since we had seats together at a match I felt appreciative of how nice it was to be able to share observations without wondering if it’s weird and join together in the chanting. I honestly don’t mind sitting by myself with other fans because the stadium is welcoming; it’s unlike any other place you might attend something alone where most of the people are attending with someone. But you still feel the oddness of being one among a crowd.

Upon arriving at The Emirates we took a quick scan of The Armoury, the place where all the Arsenal Merch is sold. As we were leaving The Armoury merch-free we saw a lady holding a sign that we should download an app on your phone that was going to be used to create a light show inside the stadium before the match.

We did download the app but unfortunately the stadium’s wifi is pretty poor with so many people using it and our T-mobile signal is weak inside the stadium as well. We were not able to be part of the light show but not being part of it allowed us to enjoy it. It was cool. As music was played in the stadium, the lights from people’s phones pulsed synchronously. The video below was posted by another fan on YouTube.

The last match we attended at The Emirates was Arsenal’s 1-1 draw against Manchester City, after which, among some parts of the fan base and football press, the sky was falling. Arsenal was in a much different state heading into this match with Atletico. Not only has Arsenal won every match since Man City, including a Carabou Cup match, a Champions League match, and several Premier League matches, Liverpool have fallen apart. Liverpool were in top position in the Premier League after week 5 but now, after Week 8, Arsenal is marginally at the top. The League is tight, tight tight with big position shifts every week.

Heading into this Champions League game, we have a great defensive record, with only 3 goals having been scored on us all season. And our success with set pieces continues to be a thing. The only concern is that we’ve struggled to score goals from open play, mostly because we haven’t figured out how to break down a low block where defensive congestion is near the opposing goal. When there is something you don’t do well, everyone you compete with knows to make sure you regularly have to do that thing. That contributes to feelings of impatience, because you just want things to be free flowing and productive and not a bunch of dark alleys to be tried and rejected. But a low block that Arsenal might struggle to break down also tends to produce a lot of corner kicks and free kicks due to fouls close to the goal. Being able to score from set pieces comes in handy when you get a lot of these chances and not too many other kinds of chances.

The starting line-up included a couple of choices Mikel Arteta hasn’t made much this year. Miles Lewis-Skelly was awarded a start at left back. Lewis-Skelly is a wonderful left back but Riccardo Calafiori has been too much of a beast this year to replace unless you are giving him a rest. That appeared to be the case today as Calafiori was on the bench. And Gabriel Martinelli started at left wing instead of Leandro Trossard. I have no idea what is in the mind of the brilliant Arteta, but my theory is that he prefers Martinelli to Trossard when he expects the game to be more open. Martinelli has a lot of speed. Another theory: Mikel’s noticed that Martinelli seems to be able to score in the Champions League.

Low seats like the ones we had for this match are great for experiencing stadium ambiance and seeing players up close. However, despite requests in the stadium to avoid “persistent standing,” they are seats in which you will actually never sit down. Persistent standing is the rule, not the exception. With some craning on my part around the tall folks, we had great up-close views of Bukayo Saka during the first half, for example, as he took several (sadly) unsuccessful corner kicks near us.

The game started well for Arsenal as Eberechi Eze’s deflected shot hit the post about 4 minutes in. Declan Rice’s subsequent rebounded shot was wide of the goal. But things settled in and Atletico gained some control across the half.

There was a horrifying moment at the other end about 25 minutes in where our goalkeeper, David Raya, came out of goal to deal with a ball on the North end of the field. It seemed that he thought the ball was going over the end line from a kick by Atletico but the pace of the ball dropped off while an Atletico player was bearing down on him and he had to kick it over the side line. He didn’t have time on the ensuing, very quick, throw-in to get back to his goal and none of our defenders was in position to cover. The Atletico player receiving the ball from the throw-in took a very quick and good kick toward goal that just missed. A very close call. Arsenal did score a goal in front of us late in the first half after very nice play from Martin Zubimendi and Saka. It was called back because Gabriel Martinelli, the goal scorer, was offside when Saka passed it.

By halftime, Arsenal had played well and produced dangerous moments, but Atletico looked pretty solid. And also created some danger. It felt like one of those games that was going to have a lot of action while ending in a scoreless draw. Easy to feel very, very impatient. I raced off to the restroom while my husband enjoyed 15 minutes of sitting down.

The second half started with dangerous moments for each team. Now Arsenal was shooting for the goal far from us so it was harder to tell how we were doing. We had at least one chance on goal. So did they. About 10 minutes into the second half, Martinelli was judged to have been fouled about 20 yards from the goal. (I say “judged” because I’ve now watched replays of this foul. All I can say is I would be mad if this foul had been called against Arsenal.) Declan Rice stepped up to take the kick. He is so deadly in these situations. But deadly needs a partner, and everyone knows that partner is Gabriel Maglehaes. He was lined up with the other Arsenal players and somehow no one covered him as he ran toward goal after the kick came in. Glanced right off that beautiful Gabriel noggin and into the goal.

Why I know this is what happened is they showed a replay on the big TV screens. What I saw from my spot, low and far way in the stadium was Declan Rice kicked the ball and there was a pause and then all the fans in the North end jumped up in unison and said “YEAH!”

In the stadium, they announce the goal scorer and the stadium announcer usually says “The goal scorer is <first name>. And then the crowd yells: “<Last name>”! That gets repeated three times. But in the case of Gabriel, we English speakers are stupid and can’t pronounce his last name. So for Gabriel, the announcer says “the goal scorer is number 6” and the crowd yells “Gabriel!”

Almost immediately after the Arsenal goal, Atletico came very, very close to scoring in front of us. Only a deflection from Gabriel kept the shot out. Arsenal ended up defending some corner kicks from Atletico. There were also a few off-target shots. Danger, danger, danger.

Nearly 10 full minutes after the Arsenal goal, Lewis-Skelly received the ball near the half-way line and slashed his way through the center of the field, evading multiple Athletico players. As he approached the penalty area he pushed through a lovely ball to Martinelli, who was blessedly onside this time. His one-touch shot curled beyond the goal keeper and glanced in off the far post. Even where I was I could see all of it perfectly. Massive celebrations.

And everyone can pronounce his last name, so you know what we did next. 2-0.

We didn’t have to wait as long for the next one. A few minutes later Zubimendi put up a lovely long pass to Martinelli who crossed it to the goal. This I saw. Then I saw a scrum and a pause and a celebration. What I did not see until the replay is that the ball came to Eze and he passed to Viktor Gyokeres, who had his back to the goal. He was able to turn and deflect the ball off the defender’s legs, slow roller. 3-0 and a goal Gyokeres really needed. He hadn’t scored in quite a few matches.

About a minute after the re-start the ball went out for an Arsenal corner kick on the side where the kick is normally taken by Declan Rice. Declan Rice put up a beautiful kick and, inevitably, it was quickly in the back of the net amongst great celebration. Big Gabi had gotten on the end of the kick and headed across the goal at hip level, where Gyokeres was able to run it a few steps into the goal.

And here I would like to take some credit. Although I have been to a match in which Gyokeres has not scored, as of this match Gyokeres has never scored in a match I did not attend.

4-0. Fifteen very consequential minutes that we had to wait 55 minutes to start. Patience paid off.

A lot happened after that. Even though we were leading by 4, I still felt some nerves. Some players who haven’t seen much game time got into the match. There was a set piece by Arsenal on which no goal was scored. Saka had a dangerous dribble into the box. Raya had a great save but on a shot that was called back for some problem. Offside or a foul, not sure which. From my great seat, I saw Antoine Griezmann, a really wonderful French player who must be nearing the end of his career (and having a bad day, since he did not start for Atletico and they lost badly), up close and personal.

Far too early, Arsenal fans started the olés for successful Arsenal passes. Far too early, Arsenal fans asked Atletico “Who are ya?” Far too early, Arsenal fans asked Atletico “Are you Tottenham in disguise?” But karma was not in play–or at least has not yet been addressed–and no further goals were scored.

This match proved to me there is no score line that will induce me to leave the stadium before the match is over. We saw others leaving to beat the crowds, some when there was a lot of time left. Even though my husband sometimes suggests that we might leave, too, this time he did not. At the whistle, we left with a cheerful but highly belligerent crowd into the damp London night.

It was late when we got back to The Bailey’s. I was so wound up, I didn’t fall asleep for hours.

London autumn

Amy OLeave a comment

Fall has always been my favorite season. Cool, crisp days. Red and yellow leaves. Apple pie. I feel melancholy in Fall–an end is near–but for some reason I like that.

This Fall hasn’t much happened in Chicago. It’s been warm, sunny and while some leaves have dropped, they’ve mostly just dropped brown. While I hoped that was an anomaly, it seems Fall is delayed in London as well. Not much going on in the Fall leaves department although I can confirm that the days are cool. Wet and rainy as well. Not that that is necessarily a Fall thing. It’s kind of a London thing.

Hotels were in short supply for this trip and we ended up getting one in the Kensington area. My husband has never loved that area. In his mind, there are more interesting neighborhoods. After staying there once many years ago, we’ve never been back. A very nice thing about Kensington is that it’s closer to Heathrow than some of the other places we’ve stayed so a very quick trip in and out. It’s on the Piccadilly tube line so you can go straight to The Emirates without the crazy switch at Kings Cross St. Pancras where hundreds of Arsenal supporters are stacked up trying to change trains. It’s also kind of quiet and relaxing. There are many restaurant options without the hustle and bustle. In short, perhaps worthy of reconsideration for hotel selection.

Anyway, we found ourselves back in London on Monday for a Tuesday match. Our flight arrived after noon on and a driving rain was visible out the windows at Heathrow.

A big advantage of the hotel we chose this time, The Bailey’s, is that it’s across the street from the Gloucester Road tube station. I really appreciated not being out in that rain for more than a street crossing, even with my knee-length rain coat. It’s also kind of a quintessential charming, old London hotel. Small, pretty rooms with character. This hilarious stuffed cat decor in the lobby.

We got settled in our room and went out to get lunch at the Hereford Arms. We’ve been to this pub before. It’s always good. And, for my husband, they have the London Pride beer he enjoys. I enjoyed one, too, this time.

After that we went to Banksy Limitless, an exhibit of Banksy art and history. I enjoy street art and Banksy is interesting given his anonymity–for a famous guy. He is also quite prolific. This exhibit, clearly put together by Banksy or with his blessing, includes a timeline of his art and themes and images of the art he’s created over the years. In most cases, reproductions of the art. In reality, a lot of his art has been covered over across time. He uses stencils that he’s created so it’s possible to do a reasonable reproduction.

It’s unusual to view art at the same time as seeing the artist’s narrative interpretation of what he wanted to communicate. In most cases we view art long after the artist has passed. My husband observed that he likes to decide for himself what the art is about and found it distracting to always be told in this exhibit the artist’s meaning. I suspect the interpretation was necessary because the art is itself commentary on some recent occurrence or social norm. Does the art have meaning if you don’t know to what it refers? In that respect, I guess Banksy’s form of art is like comedy. It’s funny in the moment but does every moment have long-term significance such that it would be funny a few years later when you’ve forgotten what inspired it? And maybe in that sense, when we don’t yet know until much later if the moments were significant, we can’t yet tell if the art is significant. On the other hand, maybe we don’t have to care. Meaning in the moment can also be art.

My favorite exhibit was the film in which they captured the moment Banksy’s picture of the girl with a ballon was sold in auction. As soon as it was announced sold, a shredder built inside the frame activated and the picture was partially destroyed. The people in the auction looked sickened. (I saw some reporting that the buyer was offered to be allowed to void the sale but did not. Later, it was even more valuable after it was destroyed.)

Although one of Banksy’s themes is the peril of commercialism, Banksy himself did not fail to capitalize on this exhibit. In addition to the entrance fee, the final step of the exhibit was a big gift shop. Although we participated in the entrance fee we did not buy the t-shirts or mugs.

We are very slow learners because after a flight in which I barely slept we decided to attend a lecture on how chemistry is used in forensic science at the Royal Institution. The speaker, Kingston Associate Professor Baljit Thatti, brought in a full auditorium and she must have been amazing, because the presentation was followed by one of the most energetic question and answer sessions I’ve ever witnessed. But I can tell you very little about her obviously excellent presentation. It was a good amuse-bouche for a great night of sleep back at The Bailey’s.

In the morning, we took an hour-long bus ride to Richmond Park. Before coming to London I had googled all the events in London and what kept coming up instead of events was ways to enjoy Autumn in London. Richmond Park is part of the Royal Parks and was highly recommended as a way to take in Fall colors.

It’s possible to rent bikes and ride the 7-mile loop around the park but unfortunately bike rental is only on weekends this time of year. Instead we made our way across a huge, golden meadow on a grass path on our way to a garden called Isabella Plantation. As we walked we could see grazing animals in the distance that almost appeared to be sheep. Upon closer inspection, they were the famous wild red deer herd that had been introduced in the park by King Charles I in the 1600s.

As we were walking toward the red deer in the field to get a closer look we happened upon a much larger deer laying in the field, one of the fallow deer. We almost didn’t spot the huge buck in vegetation very close to our path.

Leaving the meadow and heading into the forest, the birds were unbelievably loud. I use an app called Merlin to identify bird calls I don’t know. Admittedly “calls I don’t know” is almost all bird calls. The app is produced by Cornell Lab of Ornithology in NY. It can be a bit spotty about identifying birds in England, but on this day it detected Eurasian Jackdaws and Rose-ringed Parakeets.

We got lost several times but ultimately found Isabella Plantation, a lovely, lush garden.

Even without colorful fall leaves, Richmond Park was, as the internet promised us, a great way to experience the beauty of Fall in London.

We took a bus into Fulham, had a nice, late lunch at an Italian pizza chain, took the train back to Central London to work out logistics for travels the next day, pre-gamed at the Admiralty, and then headed off to The Emirates for the Champion’s League match against Atletico Madrid. Despite a lovely, calm day in nature I felt very, very nervous.

I’m not a robot

Amy O2 Comments

At the time we flew to London, both my husband and I had tickets for the Nottingham Forest game but only I had tickets for the Man City game. That remained true across thousands of clicks on the Arsenal web site. Each time I logged in to try to get a ticket, I had to affirm that I was not a robot. Sometimes I had to prove it by reviewing photos and click on all the ones, for example, that contain street lights. And sometimes even though I seemingly passed all the anti-robot tests put in front of me, I could still take repetitive action on the ticket exchange that made the exchange believe I might have fibbed about being a robot. Then you get the white screen of death and have to start over. Fortunately, I finally found my husband a ticket the very day before the match.

That was the day we travelled back to London from Norwich also. Tracks from Ipswich to Colchester were under maintenance so we had to take a bus for that leg of the trip. It was well organized by the train service and it occurred with very little drama. As we walked from Liverpool Street Station to check into our hotel, The Clayton Hotel London Wall, we crossed through the very pretty Finsbury Circus Gardens. Upon reaching the hotel, my husband was ready to relax. I was feeling inspired by the garden so I set out to find the St. Dunstan in the East Garden. This is a garden associated with a church. It looked lovely and peaceful, except on the day I visited there was a large contingent of goth-dressed women and photographers doing a photo shoot. I took advantage of the poses for my own photos.

Sometimes I recognize what a shame it’s been that we’ve visited so many hotels in London but not really used the opportunity to rank hotels. It happens that we had previously visited the Clayton Hotel London Wall in the past, but I had forgotten what a good option this is. The rooms are spacious, there is tons of storage, and the bathroom is nice. The mattress was like a concrete slab. I happen to be a fan of the concrete slab mattress. This may seem like a weird thing, but the bathroom has an enclosed shower with a ledge that prevents water from entering the rest of the bathroom. You’d be surprised how many do not. The only downside of this hotel is that it’s located in the business district so a lot of restaurants and pubs nearby are closed on the weekend.

We booked a play to attend that night, The Full English at Baron’s Court Theatre. This was a one-woman show by a linguist, poet, and actor Melanie Blanton, literally about the English language and how it developed across time as England both was impacted by migrating, and sometimes invading, forces as well as England’s own experience colonizing other countries. The Baron’s Court Theatre is a tiny space in the basement of a pub called Curtains Up. Before the play people gathered in the pub and then brought their drinks into the space and during intermission, they repeated. The theatre was so tiny that it was in my mind that it would be really bad to sleep in this play because the actor would for sure be able to see that. I was at my alert best. Perhaps because I’d for once had time to acclimate to the time change having been in England for a week. Two older ladies in the first row did not get the same memo. They both slept through a lot of the play. Then again, they availed themselves of several pints. In a warm, dark space we all know what that can lead to for us aged folk.

What I just said might sound like not a ringing endorsement of the play, but I actually loved it. It was entertaining and I learned a lot. I feel like this whole trip reinforced for me how England developed. We’ve spent time in London in the past looking into the Roman invasion, but this trip (including this play) gave insight into the migration of Anglo-Saxons as well as invasions by Vikings and Normans.

The match was the next day, Sunday. Unfortunately, that morning my husband tweaked his back and really could not walk or sit without a lot of pain. He’s had this problem before so he always travels with muscle relaxants which helps get through the night or a long flight in Basic Economy. However, those aren’t good for getting through a day or a soccer match so we invested a bit of time trying to find an electric heating pad or something to help loosen things up. We were successful in locating a disposable heating belt that you can affix under your clothing and that heats for 12 hours. A great solution for our day and for the plane trip back on Monday and it seemed to help quite a bit.

We didn’t want to overdo it so we decided to keep it simple that morning by only visiting one exhibit at the British Museum, the one displaying the treasures found at Sutton Hoo. As you may recall, once it was established that Edith Pretty had full rights to the artifacts found on her property, she donated all of them to the British Museum. One of the most interesting objects was the helmet found–crushed, where the burial compartment of the Anglo-Saxon ship in one of the mounds had collapsed. The British museum made two efforts to put the pieces together, one that they felt good about. The actual reconstructed helmet is displayed, as is a replica of what it may have looked like originally. The display also includes coins, dishes, and other objects of Anglo-Saxon life. Fascinating exhibit and a perfect follow-up to our visit at Sutton Hoo. The British Museum, like many other attractions in London, is free to visit but so expansive it’s really nice to be able to feel like you can just see what you want to see on the day without feeling guilty about wasting admission.

After lunch we travelled over to the Emirates for the match. It took more time than usual to get into the stadium, at least where I was seated in the North Bank. I was lucky to be in my seat as the teams were coming out on the field. You’ve heard me speaking about how much I love singing and being in the stadium as “North London Forever” is being played, but there is a song played at every Arsenal match that I despise. It’s called Good old Arsenal. It’s played both before the first half and the second half. It sounds like it was invented in the 1940s, but my quick google just now tells me it first made its appearance at the stadium in 1971.

Good old Arsenal

We’re proud to say that name

While we sing this song

We’ll win the game

They usually get through it 2 times before the rest of the pomp happens. I was in my seat for it and it annoyed me, like always. I do sing it because while we sing this song we win the game. How can I decline? I’m a model fan. Note: it does not always produce the results it claims.

With Martin Odegaard still injured, Mikel Arteta started exactly the same midfield he had selected for the mid-week Champions League match. He made one change in the forward line, replacing Eze with Leandro Trossard. This was maybe a bit surprising considering the opposition. Kind of a very secure but not very adventuresome lineup. William Saliba was restored to his normal center half position after an ankle injury having not played much since then. He seemed a bit rusty.

If you consider the totality of the match, we were mostly successful at being secure. But there was this one insecure moment pretty early in the first half where there was a turnover on a mistake and Man City’s excellent striker, Erling Haaland, got forward on a breakaway where Man City had three players on two Arsenal players. Haaland didn’t have the ball early in the breakaway but he was clearly the one you didn’t want to see the ball come to. We didn’t have him covered well and he did get the ball. He had no problem placing it in the Arsenal goal beyond David Raya.

All through the match Man City was pretty much bunkered in and we were unable to find a way through. Although I understood after the match everyone watching seemed to find it boring, I thought it was a fascinating match. Kind of like watching chess. I know not everyone likes watching chess when they came to watch football. But obviously frustrating, going at them again and again and never finding a way through.

After halftime, the Arsenal team came out to the the sound of “Good Old Arsenal,” like always. But this time, Man City didn’t come out for ages. It played 6 or 7 times. I enjoyed it less than usual which, as I mentioned, is not at all.

Mikel Arteta made increasingly creative substitutions across the second half and we did start to make headway in penetrating the Man City defense, which by now was just a big, old bus parked in front of the goal. He even removed a defender to put on an attacker, Gabriel Martinelli.

Everyone refers to the players who start the match as “starters.” Lately, Arteta has notably been referring to players who are substituted on as “finishers.” I don’t know where this started but I do know this is terminology that Sarina Wiegman, the winning manager for women’s Euros, used to describe her very accomplished substitutes. One of whom was Chloe Kelly, the Arsenal player who visibly improved the England team in many matches and scored the deciding penalty kick in the final. In my opinion, language matters and I think this is a good development for Arteta’s players. All of the players are good enough to start, but not all of them can be selected. Instead, Arteta needs to be able to use them to change the course of the match. And they are just as important to the match in their different role.

While Arteta was replacing defenders with attackers, Man City’s manager was replacing attackers with defenders. Even Erland Haaland was removed. (The manager said afterward he did this because Haaland said he was tired.) Both managers wanted points from this match but Man City’s manager was definitely working from the preferred position.

It seemed like the match was going to end a Man City win as we entered injury time. But never say never. Eberechi Eze, who ultimately found himself playing, managed to slip a ball over the Man City defenders to a breaking Martinelli, who managed to evade them as the goalkeeper rushed out toward him. The lightest loft of the ball with the edge of his foot and the ball was floating into the air over the keeper and against the far netting. Then a roll into the back of the net to the excitement of an entire stadium. A finisher’s finish. Until it hit the back of the net from my seat–closer to where the ball was lofted and farther from where it nestled into the netting–I was not sure it was in.

With the few minutes remaining, we continued to try to score and Man City made more offensive progress than it had tried in a while. In the end, a 1-1 tie was all we could get done.

Sometimes a late tie like that feels like a win but in this case, well, even though I was really happy the goal happened, it mostly felt like a tie. And you know the stadium DJ was feeling it, too because he played another song I’ve come to really hate at the Emirates, the song he usually plays for a tie (and I think maybe also for a loss): Tears for Fears’ Everybody Wants to Rule the World. Maybe I once liked it, but now I’ve been conditioned. It’s like a song you associate from your youth with the summer some boyfriend broke up with you. Bah. Dislike.

Better luck next time? We shall see.

After the match, Mikel; Arteta took a shellacking in the press conference and in commentary for the week for the starting line-up he used which, again, was the same forward and midfield line as in the Champions League win on Tuesday. “Why are you keeping the handbrake on?” I’ve already seen an “Arteta Out” message on social media. A writer on Football 365, which lately has been on a clickbait tear, likened Arteta to Donald Trump. Admittedly the writer is English so he may not have the clearest picture of Donald Trump’s traits, but I can assure anyone that whatever you might dislike in Trump and whatever you might dislike in Arteta, these are NOT the same traits.

Such is the state of his life. No matter what Arteta does, it’s used as a stick to beat him with. This is a great, young manager in his first head coaching role. He has a large, excellent, diverse team with 8 new players to incorporate, and figuring that out takes time. Which members of the team work together well under the varying conditions you can expect or that unexpectedly are in place?

A 1-1 tie against Man City nearing the end one of the most difficult early schedules in the Premier League while we’re sorting that out? Whatever Mikel does at this time, I’m with him. While Social Media and football commentators try their best to get me riled with media’s proven strategies to rile, I am capable of resisting.

Because, remember, as I have sworn so many times to the Arsenal web site, I’m not a robot.

All the single ladies

Amy OLeave a comment

I’ve found that when I travel I’m drawn to certain themes and narratives. When I was working in software the themes were often around how projects came about. In software, a big project is usually completed through a series of smaller projects that can involve multiple teams and stages toward the desired end. How that comes about can be quite complicated and is part of why I found my job interesting.

So while traveling and touring I’m drawn to the project aspect of anything. Last week, I was at the Gustave Caillebotte exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago and especially enjoyed looking at the methodology for completing his projects, how his trial sketches were a key part of the process of producing the final painting. I remember touring the iconic Sydney Opera house years ago and learning that the design for the Opera house was based on an artist’s rendering. After it won a competition, architects had to figure out how to build it somehow. It was a project in which there was a tremendous amount of trial and error toward producing the artist’s vision. Kind of the original Agile project. In this trip around East Anglia, one of my favorite parts of the audio tour for the Ely Cathedral was a representation of the stages of building across close to a thousand years. Every hundred years or so a big project would happen. What made me laugh when reviewing the time lapse representation of the build timeline was the times they would add something in one century that in the next century they would remove. Human nature. One man’s innovation is another man’s mistake.

In this trip, one of the themes that was present in my mind was the impact of women across East Anglia. Don’t get me wrong: history always includes the stories of men, and in our touring of cathedrals and museums there were plenty of male historical figures of note. But the history of East Anglia introduced me to several interesting and notable female figures.

The first one was Etheldredra, important in Ely. Ultimately, she became the founder and abbess for a monastery in Ely in the 7th century, the land on which The Ely Cathedral was later built. But before that she was a king’s daughter and was married off to an elderly king. The audio guide at the cathedral tells us that her husband died before they could consummate the marriage. It says she married a second time, different king, and was released from that marriage since she was still a virgin.

A lot to take in and it made me curious. For one, when I heard about the first marriage in the audio guide, I had the impression that the first husband must have died quickly after the marriage. But other sources indicated they were married for several years. Some sources claim that the deal that was made prior to both marriages–which had been political in nature–that she would be permitted to remain a virgin.

Apparently her second husband came to regret that deal many years in, which led to the marriage being dissolved.

To doubly prove that she really, really was a virgin at the end of that marriage, the audio guide tells a story of her walking stick sprouting leaves overnight.

Interesting that it was an acceptable deal in both marriages that she would remain a virgin when the marriage was presumably for political reasons. The tale of Henry VIII communicates that producing an heir–about 900 years later–is a very big expectation for a royal wife. A lot must have changed in the ensuing years.

Anyway, by today’s standards, kind of a weird origin story for a woman who ended up doing something very, very important when she was allowed to stop getting married off and fulfil her longtime dream of starting an abbey. As an abbess she was highly influential and successful, both in life and after her death, after which she was officially sainted.

The buildings Etheldreda was part of building were destroyed and rebuilt in subsequent centuries. The Ely Cathedral was built on the land starting about 300 years after Etheldreda died. Coincidentally, the monastery at Ely–by then a Benedictine monastery–was closed down by Henry VIII himself.

Another woman we became re-acquainted with in Norwich was the mystic and theologian referred to as Julian of Norwich. We had encountered some of her writings when we visited the British Library exhibit Medieval Women: In Their Own Words a few months ago. In the 14th century, Julian wrote the first English language book known to have been written by a woman. Very little is known about Julian, including whether Julian is even her name. She was an anchoress–a religious devotee who lives in a cell–in St. Julian’s church, and her understood name may have come from the church itself. She was inspired to write two versions of a book titled Revelations of Divine Love following an illness in which she was close to death and experienced visions relating to Christ’s death. The first version was written shortly after she recovered from the illness and the second one, much longer, after many years of intellectual and spiritual exploration. Her manuscripts were preserved for 200 years before being published. Although she claims in her writings to be uneducated, her work continues to inspire theologians even in our time. Famously, she posited that God is much like a mother. Our guide at the Norwich Cathedral quoted some famous words of the book that she found comfort in: “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” Julian is commemorated in stained glass in the Norwich Cathedral we visited. Note in the picture the woman on the right pane carrying a book.

Photo from Norwich Cathedral web page

Moving on many years, we quasi-encountered Edith Cavell who was born at the end of the 19th century. As we were walking for the first time from the Norwich train station to The Maids Head I saw a pub named The Edith Cavell. Then once we checked in to The Maid’s Head, on the way to our room, there was a meeting room labeled The Edith Cavell Room. I asked myself “who is this Edith Cavell?” She sounded familiar but I couldn’t remember why. It turns out she was the daughter of Norwich-area clergy and had an increasingly interesting nursing career that presumably started either because experienced a failed romantic relation OR because she helped her father through a serious illness. Or both. Her nursing took her into teaching and administration and allowed extended travel in Europe. She was notable as a nurse in the first World War for treating war wounded from both sides but ended up running afoul of the Germans for aiding the escape of more than 200 soldiers from Belgium. She admitted her “guilt” and was executed at age 49 by a German firing squad. She showed virtually no fear leading up to her death, glad to die for her country and with her soul at peace. Her body is buried outside the Norwich Cathedral.

And finally, we encountered Edith Pretty, the woman responsible for sharing the Anglo-Saxon treasure of Sutton Hoo with the world in the mid 20th century. Born into a wealthy family, she became deeply interested in archeology and, with her husband, purchased the Sutton Hoo property on which the burial mounds were located. (Interesting side note: before her marriage she, too, was a nurse and served in Belgium in the first World War.) Although many people believed the mounds had already been robbed, as indeed they had been, she was convinced that they contained additional treasure. After her husband passed away, she hired a local excavator, Basil Brown, to explore the site further. He is often credited with the find, as he should be, but the excavation occurred only because she was willing to invest toward the work. She waited patiently for the coroner inquest that would rule on who had rights to the treasures, rejected rewards from the crown for gifting the property, and as soon as it was clear it was hers to dispose of as she wished, she donated all artifacts to the British Museum to add to our understanding of the Anglo-Saxon culture and be enjoyed by everyone. Like our other women, Edith Pretty was a Boss.

It occurred to me that every one of these women became known for what she did when she was single, regardless of how she came to be that way. Perhaps being single contributed to their being able to pursue a deep-seated interest given the times in which they lived. You have to admit we are looking at a very long period, more than 1000 years, in which it seems true that it has been quite difficult for a married woman to pursue the kind of work that speaks to them as a person, unless that work happens to be taking care of family. (I do note that some of these “jobs”–like being in a monastery–just require being single.)

To be clear, we know about these women because they became famous. In my mind, fame is not the object for most of us. The object is being able to do work that interests one greatly.

And as much as I note that women have made progress since Edith Pretty’s death in the 1940s, it seems there are still forces that hold us back. In fact, forces that existed in the past that were briefly weakened seem lately to be coming to greater strength.

Ominously, women leaving the workforce at high rates. Although unexplained, some factors believed to be involved include rapidly increasing cost of child care and the newly growing wage gap between men and women workers. Removal of women from government positions under a new regime, where the claim is that they are insufficiently qualified. And my social media feeds over the summer included a video in which a well-known male operative, leading seminars for young women, encouraged them not to work or attend college. Or if they attended college not too work hard at it. Ok to pursue “an MRS degree,” where you are only attending college to meet eligible bachelors. Indeed, ready yourself for a life of servitude where you take care of family and be subservient to your husband, the boss of your family. Sorry for the bad luck of the accident of your gender.

As a recent retiree from a job I loved I’m so thankful for the period in time in which it’s been possible as a woman to pursue interesting work. My fervent hope for all women is that one is not required to be single or childless to be able to freely choose and grow in an occupation. That women be judged on their objective merits instead of assumptions about people of your gender. That when partnered, their partners support their self-actualization, just as they support the same in their partners.

I bet all the single ladies of East Anglia agree.

New territories, Norwich edition: part 2

Amy O1 Comment

With the rain more or less behind us, we had breakfast at the hotel and then took the train to Melton. The Melton train station has the best butcher shop I’ve ever seen….and very little else. We walked along a narrow sidewalk very close to a busy thoroughfare for 15 minutes to arrive at Sutton Hoo. We initially learned about Sutton Hoo from the Netflix movie called The Dig. The movie tells the true story of how one of the most significant archeological finds in England–an Anglo-Saxon burial ground–came to be discovered. For perversely quick and hopefully not inaccurate history from a touring American, Anglo-Saxons migrated to England starting in the 5th century A.D., about the time the Roman occupation was coming to an end. The find provided a new picture of how Anglo-Saxons lived. They had been much more sophisticated than originally believed.

Sutton Hoo was property owned privately by a woman named Edith Pretty that, after her death, was gifted to the National Trust. You can visit the site and walk the property, including into her home and to the location of the burial mounds. There’s an observation tower near the mounds so you can climb up and look down at the mounds. A displayed map on the observation tower describes what was found in each mound. Edith Pretty’s home includes exhibits about her life and details about how the excavation project came about. There’s also a museum about Anglo-Saxon life on site. Outside of the museum, there’s a replica of one of the most interesting objects found in the mounds, the fossilized outline of a ship that was used to bury an important Anglo-Saxon leader. At Sutton Hoo, they seem convinced that the leader was King Readwald. The British Museum, which ultimately received most of the objects found in the mounds, including a famous war helmet believed to belong to the person buried, seems less certain. Pretty’s gift of the artifacts to the British Museum came after a coroner’s inquest into the ownership of the artifacts found on her land. As soon as the inquest established that she alone had rights to the artifacts, she gifted them for all to enjoy.

The property is beautiful, rolling hills, wild grasses and flowers. We explored a path through and near the property trying to find the River Deben, which is what the Anglo-Saxons are believed to have used to drag the ship to the burial place. We got to where we could see it but there are a number of beautiful and gated private properties blocking access.

After visiting Sutton Hoo and returning to the train station, we headed to Ipswich. Like Norwich, Ipswich’s football stadium is also near the train station. It’s quite nice from the outside. We walked to the city center and searched out a place for lunch, settling on the highly rated Blends Coffee House. Cute on the outside and kind of rough on the inside, with a menu far too big for the size of the shop, we were pleasantly surprised by how good everything was. I had a pot of tea (third day running, really enjoying this habit) and a BLT. English bacon is really different from bacon in the U.S. and I love it. It’s a bit more like U.S. ham. To be clear, I love all bacon, the English way or the U.S. way. I could easily be vegetarian, except bacon. I guess I would have to be a vegebacontarian. What was so so good about the BLT was the artisan bread. Not to go all crazy about a BLT, but it has long been my belief that what is important in a BLT beyond the quality of the B, the L, and the T is the right proportion of each ingredient and the balance of mayo and bread. Theirs was just about perfect.

As we were paying our bill the person who waited on us asked if we were Canadian. Honestly….there are reasons I would like to pretend to be Canadian while traveling in Europe at this time in history. At all times, America’s relationship with Britain is a bit complicated. But the week we were there, our President was also, and that brings feelings to the fore. But we were honest and that led to a general conversation about why we were in England. We asked if he was an Ipswich fan and he ran to the back of the kitchen to bring out his coffee cup bearing the logo of his favorite team. It was Port Vale. We laughed because that’s who Arsenal was to play in the Caribao Cup the week after we were there. (I am writing this more than a week after the trip; Arsenal ended up winning the match on Wednesday 0-2.) The other worker at the coffee shop was an Ipswich fan. We asked him about the rivalry with Norwich. He said “oh yeah–we hate them.” He was looking forward to the first match in a long time between Ipswich and Norwich. Both teams have been up from the Championship and into the Premier League and then back down to the Championship in recent years, but not at the same time. Both are in the Championship now.

After some good natured trash talking and some advice from the guys about what we should consider doing in Ipswich (they recommended nothing in Ipswich but had ideas about other places we should go in England), we went off to find baked goods. Ultimately, we found a chain called Cookie Barista. We walked back to the train enjoying the scenery and downing our cookies.

Back in Norwich, we made another visit to St. Andrew’s Brew House, this time to try some of their beer. It was Thursday, kind of a popular day for people to meet up with friends at the pub so a bit livelier than our last visit. We had the Anglo-Saxon amber. It was pretty yummy. We walked over near the Guildhall for an easy dinner at my husband’s go-to chain in England, Pizza Express. This one had a great view over Norwich and the market.

Our last full day in East Anglia was going to be a warm one. We took the train to Hoveton and Wroxham to enjoy the Norfolk Broads. The understood way to enjoy the Broads is to rent watercraft and tool around the Bure river. We found Norfolk Broads Direct and rented a motor boat for 3 hours. It was a September Friday so not too busy on the river, but they had a lot of boats available to rent and had plenty of competition from our boat outfits. I had zero confidence about driving the boat but my husband had full confidence. It was a bit hairy getting out of the dock area but he quickly became comfortable and we enjoyed looking at the beautiful homes along the river, the wildlife, and the scenery. You can only go a maximum of 5 miles an hour on the river so it was quite chill. When people rent for a whole day they are able to dock and go into little towns and pubs along the river. 3 hours was too short for us to do that, but we got a sense for the lifestyle.

We walked back to the train station in Hovetown/Wroxham to embark on our next adventure, a ride on the Bure Valley Railway up to Aylsham. We had to grab a quick lunch so we stopped at an establishment near the station called Fizz and Fromage. I saw they had BLT on their menu but it was not just “BLT.” It was “Famous BLT.” After waxing lyrical about the BLT in Ipswich, you know I was tempted. I really can’t explain how it is possible, but the BLT at Fizz and Fromage was the best I have ever had. By far. My husband was just as enthusiastic about his hummus and sourdough.

The Bure Valley Railway was a lot of fun. The train was pulled by a steam engine. It was not an old steam engine as we had believed when we booked but rather a new one. The whole railway was actually constructed in 1990. The train went through lovely country side, past villages and the Bure river, and sheep. We passed bikers and hikers using a path next to the tracks, and sometimes they passed us. We arrived in Aylsham and had about an hour to explore before returning by rail to Wroxham. Cute little town.

Upon our return to Norwich, we made one more stop at The Compleat Angler for a beer to celebrate our trip to Norwich. It was still so warm and nice we sat out on the porch over the lovely River Wensum. The flower boxes on the exterior of the pub were so pretty. Afterward we followed the path along the river as far as we could on our way back to the Maids Head. It occurred to me that you can see the Norwich Cathedral from many parts of town. I wondered what kind of impact that has on your living when your spiritual home is visible from most places you are.

The Norwich leg of our trip, including the ride back to London, looked something like this:

And our whole trip to East Anglia looked like the map below.

We saw and did a lot in East Anglia. Still, I’m left with the feeling that there is so much more to see and do.

Another time….

New territories, Norwich edition: part 1

Amy O2 Comments

One “downside” of the Anglia Plus Three-Day Ranger train pass was that you can’t use it before 8:45 a.m. This was a downside only for my husband. He is the early bird for whom the worm is waiting. For me, a consummate midnight oil burner, mostly because I’m too wound up at night to sleep, it meant very reasonable departure times each day. On Tuesday morning, we packed up our suitcases and rolled them to the Cambridge train station across from which we had scones at the bakery chain Gail’s. At the allowed time, we boarded the train to Norwich.

While on the train, we learned that the weather was going to be rainy on Wednesday across East Anglia so we made a quick change on the planned order of activities to take advantage of the rather better weather on Tuesday. Upon arriving in Norwich, we carted our luggage to our Norwich hotel, The Maids Head, and checked it at the desk. Then, instead of touring Norwich as planned, we went back to the train station and took a short trip to a seaside town called Cromer and walked the short distance to the city center.

Cromer was lovely. We walked though a charming district looking for where we might have lunch. At last we found a sign pointing from the main drag to a neighborhood for a restaurant called Browne’s on Bond Street. After consultation of very good online reviews we walked over. They were fully booked inside and offered a table in the garden. It was a chilly day but we were dressed for it and happy to have the table. I started with a pot of tea. Having tea was starting to become habitual away from London. My husband had the local dish of Cromer crab prepared kind of like a gratin and I had a tuna melt. Quite yummy.

After lunch, we wandered over to the seashore. The wind and waves were wild. A group of wet-suited surfers were having some great rides. We walked on the promenade along the shore and Cromer Pier. Our fellow wanderers included a lot of dogs who were enjoying the walk and the beach. We took a small detour back to town and The Craft Bakery in search of a baked good. I had a delicious Orange shortbread cookie and my husband had something called a white chocolate rocky road cookie which was kind of like a giant block of fudge. (It was so good that on a later date on the trip my husband said “maybe we should go back to Cromer for a cookie?”) We had to work that off, so back to the beach and to a very cool miniature gold course on a bluff above the ocean.

The planned activity for the evening was to watch Arsenal’s first round Champion’s League match against Athletic Bilbao. It was being played in Spain rather than home. Upon returning on the train to Norwich we had to nail down a pub option where the match would be televised. We’ve found using internet search engines to produce unreliable results, so we made an insurance stop at the pub we’d chosen to make sure. It was on the way from the Norwich train station to our hotel. Sure enough, The Compleat Angler intended to televise the match. After quickly checking into our hotel we doubled back to the pub where a kind bartender had reserved us a table.

It was a pretty interesting match. Manager Mikel Arteta selected the same forward line and the same back line as for Nottingham Forest but obviously had to make a decision about what to do in the midfield in the absence of Martin Odegaard. He’d been re-injured in the Nottingham Forest match and didn’t even take the trip to Spain. In the Nottingham Forest match Arteta had replaced Odegaard with 18-year-old Ethan Nwaneri and he did quite well, but in this match he chose Declan Rice along side an unchanged Martin Zubimendi and Mikel Merino. That Declan Rice did NOT start against Nottingham Forest was a bit of a surprise.

The atmosphere in Bilbao was nuts. That must be a wonderful place to attend a match if you’re a fan of the home side. Arsenal dominated possession for most of the match but struggled to produce a goal. Eberechi Eze, who was so wonderful against Nottingham Forest really struggled in this match. Noni Madueke continued to impress. Viktor Gyokeres struggled and, in the second half, also took a blow to the head that produced a big gash that was taped up. Lots of tape. He was ultimately removed, replaced by Leandro Trossard, as was Eze, replaced by Gabriel Martinelli. Good changes that sparked something in Arsenal. About 70 minutes into the match, the Athletic keeper kicked a ball into Arsenal’s defensive half which we cleared out to the halfway line. Trossard dinked it over the defender, perfect for Martinelli to run on to. Keeping two defenders at bay he slotted it under the Athletic keeper into the net. Later Martinelli returned the favor, driving toward the left corner and passing to Trossard who’d made great movement to open up space. Trossard’s shot bounced off a guy’s foot and into the goal. The match ended 0-2, not a bad outing.

Meanwhile, beer and dinner for us.

The weather forecast had been accurate. Rain had started early on Wednesday and our new plan was to see Norwich during that rain. Our hotel was very close to a historic area in Norwich called Elm Hill. Like all “Elm” hills in all the world, there are very few remaining Elms due to Dutch Elm disease, but there are cool cobbled streets and interesting old buildings.

We stopped for breakfast at a place called Olive’s. Mostly traditional British fare. I had a Benedict that had hash browns in place of the usual English muffin. My husband had the veg version of a traditional English breakfast: eggs, sausage, baked beans, bubble & squeak. We had long heard about the thing called “bubble & squeak” but never had it and did not know what it was. Our helpful server pointed it out on the plate and explained it. It’s kind of like hashbrowns but includes cabbage. It was pretty delicious.

Because it was very rainy by this point, we took our tour inside to the Norwich Cathedral. This cathedral is not quite as old as the one in Ely but it’s old, 900 years worth. We were given a wonderful 1-hour tour of the cathedral by an enthusiastic, elderly volunteer and member of the active church since childhood. Not only did we learn about the very interesting history of the cathedral, she pointed out interesting details, like ancient graffiti, the cool glow from the McClean stained glass windows that were installed in 2014, the misericord in the choir that’s intended for the assistant dean and includes a carving of the Norwich Canaries football team logo, and the amazing 12th century Despenser Reredos that was protected and preserved from destruction allegedly by hiding it as the bottom of a table. We also heard about the cat called Budge that lives in the Cathedral and unofficially serves as the Bishop. Budge did not make an appearance while we were there.

Following our tour we walked near the city center for lunch at an Italian restaurant called Yard. Freshly-made pasta with delicious sauces. I had the Pappardelle with 12-hour beef shin ragu and my husband had Bucatini cacio e pepe. I followed mine up with this crazy and amazing dessert that was a croissant filled with salted caramel ice cream. Oof. Very delicious lunch.

We walked by the beautiful medieval Guildhall and art deco City Hall City Hall and walked through the cool Norwich market. It was a bit late so many stalls were closed but enough was open that you got a flavor for the diverse products on offer. Spices, wine, prepared food, produce, clothes.

Our last big stop for the day was at the Norwich Castle. This was kind of a crazy, interesting experience. It is a museum that’s built in and around the ruins of an actual Norman castle. The castle was started by order of William the Conqueror in the late 11th century and was only briefly and very occasionally used by a monarch. It also was used as a jail. Where the museum can include the actual remnants of the castle it does; where it cannot, it includes recent building intended to help depict what the original castle looked like. When you stand within any one room you might see one original wall (it’s very clear which one that is) with three new walls that help you imagine what it must have been like. You can also go to the rooftop to see the defensive structure. From the rooftop, I could see all the sights we had seen that day.

We did a quick refresh at our hotel after visiting the castle and then went back over to the Norwich Cathedral for the Evensong service. Our guide from the morning had told us that the Cathedral had had Evensong services every day for the last 900 years. One of them included us. The music was quite beautiful, from a choir of adults and children.

After the service, we went to dinner at St. Andrew’s Brew House, so named because it’s across from a church called St. Andrew’s. A bit comical since they were out of almost everything we wanted to order for dinner. We were together able to cobble something together that worked.

Norwich surprised me. I’m not sure what I expected but it was not that. Such a great city! We thoroughly enjoyed our time there.