Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside

We spent the weekend in Weymouth. T’s (half)brother Simon is currently working in Saudi, but was back for his once every three months visit. Simon had brought his family down to his father’s place in Weymouth, so we joined them there. It was an amazing weekend.

We barbequed on the water front. Made hot dogs and marshmallows. 

We went badger hunting. Water pooling (one crab). Fishing (no luck).  

We drank G&Ts in the garden. Watched the Olympics - women’s finals in sailing. 

We got sunburnt. Little H got a lot of fresh seaside air. I got to sleep in both days. (And wonderful T took the night shifts). I got a gift from one of my sweet nephews. 

We went for long walks. Swam in the sea. Ate local ice cream. Had fish and chips in the harbour. 

It was a really great weekend! Had almost forgotten how much I love the sea.

Public transport

I normally try and take the bus when I'm going somewhere. It works for most of central London, but then there's a point when you have to decided that it takes too long time. London is, after all, quite a large city, where traffic at rush hour can be absolutely horrible.

The main reasons for choosing the bus are four: 1) it is considerably cheaper than the tube (at least if you don't have to change, any new bus route you jump on will be charged again), 2) you get to see so much more of the town (and suddenly realizes how everything is connected), 3) it is easier to get out if you're trapped (a decent bus driver will let you off even if you're not at the bus stop, if stuck in traffic - on the tube you are basically very trapped) and 4) on the bus you have the chance to get some fresh air (rush hour on the tube in the middle of August is NOT a pleasant experience - especially if you're stuck with your nose in someone else's armpit (they should make separate carriages for short people!)).

Having said that: I just experienced a very unpleasant smell on the bus tonight. First of all you look around, trying to work out who it might be who hasn't washed for a week, or who didn't make it to the loo in time. Hopefully you then discover a clearly strange creature in a corner of the bus who can be blamed for the stench. The worrying thing is those occasions when there's no one obviously responsible. That's when you start to panic a bit, trying harder to locate the smell. And the fear sets in - have you sat in something (is that why there was a seat available?!?), and how do you get out of the situation?

(I have actually once sat on a wet seat. I freaked out completely, until I discreetly managed to sniff my fingers and realized that it was just coke. However, Tim and I have once seen a teenage girl wee on a seat. We didn't sit down for months after that.)

Who said that travelling on public transport was easy?

(Not so) far and away

We're off for the weekend. Haven't seen Tim's dad for so many months that we can't even remember when. So, thought it was about time. It is of course also a great opportunity to get away from the big city for a while. One of us really needs to relax a bit (and trust me - after two weeks in bed - it's definitely not me!) Also, Somerset, where TB senior lives, is very pretty and nice, and a perfect getaway. In addition, there's absolutely nothing to do but to eat, drink, watch the telly, play with the cat, and - if the whether allows it - occasionally go for a walk. I have also just borrowed a book from Emelie ('The Shadow of the Wind' by Carlos Ruiz Zafón), so I am even looking forward to the coach ride.

Oh yeah!

Guess who's going to Saint Tropez this summer. And who doesn't have to pay for it. Oh yeah, sometimes life is sweet! (Or, Tim knows the right people.)

Traveling and reading

Finally went back to London today. Since mum and dad left for a holiday in 'the Swedish alps' (i.e. Sälen) yesterday, I had to get to the airport (Arlanda) myself. It turned out to be easier than I thought, and it only took me 1 hour and 10 minutes, from door to door with public transport. Flying with SAS, I had to go from the newly built Terminal 5. The building itself is very nice, and I'm sure it will be great when everything is up and running, but at the moment: no! Just loads of empty space as well as construction work going on. I also managed to buy the most overpriced and non well-tasting pasta salad ever in the only cafe I could find, only to afterward discover that there was a lovely Wayne's Coffee tucked away further in. Blah!

Spent the entire trip reading one of the books I bought on the book sale yesterday: 'En sorts kärlek' (English title: 'Love Life', original Dutch title: 'Komt een vrouw bij de dokter') by Ray Kluun (the other one I bought was last year's Nobel prize winner Le Clézio's 'Vandrande stjärna' ('Étoile errante') - very pretentious!). Finished the book on the plane, but really had to bite my lip and put the book down a few times in order for me not to cry. It was a very sad story (google it if you want to know the plot) and very emotional. Obviously, not many people agrees with the actions of the narrator, and I have since understood that there are lots of people who really hate the author (the book is largely autobiographical). But I chose to see it as a love story, and if you ignore the somewhat poor language (might be the translator?) and the too many pop cultural references, it was really good (in a sort of unsettling way). But maybe I am a very simple (or very forgiving) person? At least, I don't think I have the right to set the norms for how other people should be living their lives.

Anyway, it is nice to be back!

Back at home

We are finally back in the flat. It is a bit chilly, but not too bad (feared the worst). It took quite some time to get home from Stansted (no trains for two days, so complete panic with all the coaches - we were apparently lucky - earlier in the day the queue had been two hours), and I feel a bit bad for Tim who has to get up for work tomorrow morning. I will stay in, and unpack, and relax, and contemplate meaning of life.


Home by the flat, we were greeted by this beautiful scenery. Snow! Tim had to take a picture. (And yes, it is our house you see.) Absolutely wonderful, and absolutely gone the morning after.

Landed!

Wow! What a trip! Our sweet landlady, M, offered to drive me to Victoria coach station. It'll take 15 mins, she told me. Fair enough, it probably would have, if it wasn't for the fact that we got stuck in traffic a few blocks away from the station. After five minutes in the car, without having moved an inch, I decided to run for it instead. Unloaded my luggage, and started running, bags and all. Only had five mins. to spare... Three blocks later, M finally caught up with me. So luggage back in car, and no feet on the brake... Made it to the coach with no more than 2 seconds to spare!

Finally on the coach, I started to slowly relax. However, it appeared that the block in traffic was not only on the south side of Victoria station, but on all sides... It took us 45 mins. to get from Victoria to Westminster... (Now, be good and google that distance on a map!) I was still ok, because I knew I had booked a very early coach just to have that extra time at the airport, but people around me really seemed to panic. I should have known better myself...

Well, got to the airport, with 2 whole hours left. Perfect! Queued up to the checking in machine (Ryan Air's latest thing), only to discover that it wouldn't print my boarding pass. Weird! Queued up for assistance. Learnt that my last name (God forbid, there are people who have å, ä, ö or other strange characters in their names!) could not be printed by the machine. Queued up for the sales desk. Had my name changed on the ticked. Queued up for the checking in machine again (they couldn't check me in at the sales desk, oh no!). Queued up for the dropping off luggage (a thing that truly deserves a whole other blog entry, but let me tell you; it included anything you've ever seen on 'the Airport' or similar TV shows: crying, swearing, the lot). Queued up for the security check. Ran to gate. Made it with five minutes to spare...

And then panicked on the plane because I thought I was on the wrong flight (staff very foreign, everyone around me speaking Polish, and security announcement in French!). Couldn't be happier than when I finally landed on home grounds!

Tomorrow I'm off to meet Finnish friends in town, and then to my sister's for a lucia and glögg party. And ahead lies the longest holiday I've ever had...

Christmas

Ok, we have finally taken the bull by the horns and booked our flights to Sweden for Christmas. It took me absolutely forever to book the tickets. Couldn't decide when I wanted to go, with which company, or whether I should travel back with Tim or not. In the one hour I spent on British Airway's booking page, the prize of a one way ticket went from £61, to 29, back to 61, to 93, back to 29, then 61, then 165 and finally 61 again! I gave up on them!

But as it will probably be the last Christmas I ever have when I can take as much time off as I want (now, that's a depressing thought) I'm making it a long one. Will fly out to "Stockholm" (with cheapo Ryanair, thus Västerås) on the 12th and back to England on the 4th of January - so New Year's in Stockholm as well. I am so looking forward to it - help out with Christmas preparations, work a little bit (new exciting research at the Royal Library - no thesis!) and have plenty of time to see everyone. Feel a little bit bad about Christmas, because Tim and I are on a very strict budget, but have decided I can't walk around feeling anxious about that all the time. Denial, it's a great thing! This year I am really going to enjoy the holidays!

Travels

After a long week, today Tim and I are off to Gloucestershire (damn, that is a tough one to spell for a Scandinavian). We will have a private moment at the cemetery, and catch up with that part of the family. I will probably head back to the civilization on Sunday, while Tim will stay till Monday. He has to go via Oxford on the way back (trip to a library for some research), but I don’t fancy that detour. Especially not since I’m so close to being finished. My final chapter has been handed in, and I now only have to write the summary. (And loads of proof readings, I fear, but it is too depressing to think of that right now.) Wait! What was that? A light? Could this be the end of the tunnel?


(And the picture of the day is actually the last picture I took with the camera before it broke down. [And no, I still haven’t received a new lens.] The zoom is thus not working properly. But this is the kind of thing I play around with instead of being a good PhD student.)

Weekend report

A few words from the pricey British Library… Phone, internet and extra TV-channels have now been ordered, but not yet delivered. I’m still very isolated!

We have now had our first over-night guest — our old colleague and friend from Oslo, Anne Irene, who stayed a night on her way from Nottingham to Heathrow. Great to see her again, and to get some updated from Norway. Managed both dinner at funky ‘Hot stuff’ around the corner (trendy Indian place) and lunch at ‘the Fentiman Arms’ (very nice gastro-pub).

This weekend we spent ‘up north’ in Yorkshire. (Haven’t managed to work out how to link to my old entries, and will not even try with my few valuable minutes in the Library, but some of you might remember the old post on Jerveaulx Abbey.) Anyway, Tim had to give a lecture, which gave us the chance to go and see some countryside, including ruins of a 12th century Cistercian abbey (privately owned! this is so English!). Very nice, although I felt rather out of place (being half the age of everyone else — the audience was mainly from the Art Fund or the Ripon Cathedral patrons). Prize for anyone who can guess what souvenir we brought back with us!

A person in Tim’s close family passed away two weeks ago, so we’ll be going to Gloucestershire next weekend. Tim has been very upset and in complete shock these days, but hopefully things will seem a bit easier after the memorial. It’s been a rough month.

Online for a while!

A quick note from someone who feels rather isolated at the moment… We have now moved, and have no landline phone, no internet, no mobile reception (basement flat), and only an old TV with one channel which cannot read the signal from the Wii. Not the most hi tech place, and definitely not a home made for communication with the rest of the world. At the moment, I have paid almost £6 for 24 hours of internet at the British Library (after being unable to check my mail for 10 days it became unbearable). Well, 24 hours is a bit of a lie: there will of course be no access between 20.00 tonight and 9.30 tomorrow. But Tim has promised that we will have both phone and internet in four days. Hurray! (And when that happens I will send out one of those boring ‘we-have-moved-here-are-all-our contact-details’ email — don’t really fancy posting here in case the blog ever becomes public.)

The new flat is a saga to itself. Full story will follow. In the meantime, here are some of our summer photos…

Tim and me on the boat (oh, first picture of me that I post... I'm so shy!)

Nothing beats a Swedish summer night...

Back to reality

Yes, as the title says: we are now back to reality. And that with a bang! Landed late Sunday night, after having had an amazing last week. Swedish summer at its best. 25-30 degrees Celsius every day, and 22 in the water.
Went on small excursions, went fishing (both with fishing rods and with net. I was good at throwing with the rod - too good, actually. One hook got caught on a rock, and we managed to tear of the fishing line. I was secretly happy it wasn't a big pike ['gädda'] though. The net was more rewarding: we got 3 fishes to keep [two flounders, and one silvery big thing, 'Sik' in Swedish, which created a whole bunch of jokes from Tim, e.g. "did he wear a turban?"]. 6 fishes were too small, and were thrown back in, although one of them immediately jumped back into the net, so, 9 or 10 fishes all in all. We had a bet going, and I'm sorry to say my pessimistic guess of 4 did not make me a winner. The lucky winner was my uncle, who guessed on 8.)

Other than that, we mostly relaxed. Were good one day, and assembled a cupboard for the summer house, in midst Tim almost fainted, and had to go and see a doctor. (Something wrong, but not wrong enough, with his ear. It'll go away on its own.) So, we are back to Tim always being sick on holidays! (Israel being the exception to the rule.)

Going back to work on Monday was really depressing, but at least we got the moving boxes delivered. Today we started packing... It is hell! We managed to move with only 18 boxes from Norway, but we seem to have accumulated loads of stuff this last year. We ordered 24 boxes from the removal firm, and, well, it does not seem to be enough. The main problem, of course, is all the books. Filling just the bottom of a box with books makes it too heavy for anything else to go in. In Norway, this was no problem. The removal firm we hired there definitely had no health and safety regulations for the cheap Polish guys they used. Our boxes were twice as full. Now, no box is allowed to weigh more than 20 kg. So we pack, and then unpack, then repack, then unpack etc. etc. etc... First priority tomorrow morning is to try and get hold of book boxes. I wish I could say we have a clever back up plan, but we really don't...

Roller coaster

Today has been a real roller coaster. Extreme happiness, and then amazingly down. Tim has been just the same. Good news about my PhD – will not have to write the paper on grammaticalization, which I thought I had to in order to hand in. My colleague handed in today – very happy for him, but also depressed that it wasn’t me.

We spent quite a bit of the day finding a recipe and then shopping for tonight’s dinner. Made ‘pink ladies’ before dinner (mainly white rum and cranberry juice), with grilled pita bread, hummus, ‘aubergine mash’ (inspired by our trip to Israel) and olive tapenade. Then chilli marinated grilled chicken, with an amazing sauce with lime and sambal oelek.

Had to drive to Oxelösund for the shopping. I am really tired of the car now. Well, the car itself is quite all right (a Saab 9000?), especially after my parents fixed the ac. But there’s no radio and no CD-player, and as previous stated, I really prefer driving with music on. Driving down from Stockholm to the summer house, I had to sing to myself to get some music. However, I couldn’t really think of any songs that I knew. Aimed for some old style jazz/easy listening. Wanted to sing ‘Fly me to the moon’, but couldn’t even remember which song it was, only that it was something to do with ‘moon’. So started singing ‘Blue moon’ instead – problem being, I only knew those two words. Gave up. In the end, starting to sing ‘Happy birthday’ just because it was the only song I could think of.

The really bad news of the day is that my camera has died!!! Well, it was actually the lens, and not the camera house. To begin with, it was really hard to zoom in and out with the lens, but when removing it from the camera house, it refused to work completely, and there is now something loose inside it. Aaaah! I am so frustrated. Especially since Tim had just showed me a perfect butterfly bush, which we apparently have in the garden. Well, at least managed to take a few photos first… [And here, I tried to insert a few pretty pictures, but the amazingly slow internet connection we have in the cabin cannot take it.]

This has really been a great bug year. Not so many mosquitoes (or they have stopped liking me), but loads of flies and wasps. Luckily, my uncle has an illegal electric bug killer. It is shaped as a tennis racquet, which electrocutes the bugs. The voltage is apparently not allowed in this country, but it was bought in Thailand, so oh well. Tim loves ‘the toy’! And today I was grateful that he does, since we found the biggest flying thing I have ever seen. It was the size of my thumb, I swear. My mum argues that it was a hornet, but Tim claims it was just a weird form of fly. Whatever it was, I am more than happy to see it dead. Some parts of nature should never come inside…

Last week of holiday

So, it's our last week of this summer holiday, and it feels quite stressful. Wish we had more time for most things: more time to relax, more time to work (nothing new there, ha ha!), more time to spend with friends and family, more time to ourselves. More of everything, basically. These last few days have been very summery, though, which is really nice. Last week's rain didn't do much for our holiday mood. (Oh, how Swedish of me - to discuss the weather. According to Tim, the weather is one of two safe topics for conversation - the other one being dinner!)

Tim has been good, and has proof read most of his book. I have been less good, and has barely looked at my documents. I have, however, solved a load of crossword puzzles, which I claim is very good for my written Swedish - at least I'd like to think so... The last few days have also been spent in the company of friends with babies - and poor Tim has done his best to remind me of how stinky, noisy, messy etc. babies are. Ha ha! (And it is worth to note that Tim is a lot better with kids than I ever will be - well, I guess he can relate to it - being one himself!)

We are now in the summer house, together with my parents and my aunt and uncle. The have a dinner order, which means that each family takes care of the dinner every other night. Tim, the fool, suggested tonight that WE should cook tomorrow, being part of the household and all! Well, I should be fair and maybe mention that it was originally my idea - but the thought was that we would think of something to cook first. Now, we are really stuck, having promised four people to serve something really amazing tomorrow night... One of our (very few) specialities is lasagna, but both mum and uncle wont eat pasta, so such much for that. If I know us right, tomorrow will largely be spent hunting for recipies, and then panicking when we can't think of anything. Tomorrow night could be a very interesting evening...

Summer holiday - mid report

So, half of our summer holiday has now passed. It has been eventful, to say the least. I really don't know where the days have gone, but we sure haven't been lazy. Met several friends in and around Stockholm (and had a well deserved hair cut, thank you Lisen!), including Lena, who had come with her kids all the way from Puyallup, Washington.

Picked Tim up on the Friday, and then drove to the island where my parents have their summer house. It rained! (So much that I had to stop the car in a panic, since I couldn't work out how to get the wind screen wipers to work on max - very embarrassing!) It was great to see Tim again, although he still had not really landed mentally - it would take him a few days to relax from work.

Saturday, my darling parents had planned a surprise birthday party for me. Unfortunately (or luckily for me, whichever) one of my cousins had managed to say a little too much, and I had already worked out what was going on (which I found quite convenient, because then I could dress up a bit and put on makeup, something I would normally never do when just relaxing in the summer house). I did not, however, know who would be coming, and it was great to see everyone who turned up, although I hardly had time to talk to them all. The biggest surprise was to see one of my oldest friends, who I hadn't spoken to for years. Tobias and Lisen and baby Vera spent the night, and chilled out the day after. Tim, my niece Felicia and I had the first swim of the year. It was absolutely freezing!

On the Monday we drove down south, to meet one of my cousins and his family, who were out with the boat. We swapped the car for the boat, and then sailed off. Five days at sea followed. Tight, no personal space, sunny (got, as I do every time I'm sailing, terribly burnt), rainy, ran out of bread the last day, but also very nice, and good to spend some time with the family (without computers, TVs or anything). It was, however, also very nice to come back to a hot shower (jumping in and out of ice cold sea water just isn't the same) and a proper toilet (with privacy!)...

Today, we swapped back - car for boat, and headed back. Mum and dad stayed at the summer house, while I drove Tim and Felicia to Stockholm. This weekend will be spent seeing some more people (I am, after all, not the only one to become old this year). I am looking forward to seeing everyone we haven't seen yet, as well as having some 'us time'.

Report from the mother country

Oh, I can hear the echo in here... Sorry about that. Being back in Sweden has, as always, been rather chaotic.

Spent the first few days with mum, dad, sister and niece in Göteborg. Forced the rest of the family to take a small detour through Vadstena on the way there, so that I could have a look at the birgittine museum there. They even had a few manuscripts on loan. Very nice! (I could tell the others couldn't care less, but I was really excited. Rather pathetic, come think of it!) Amusement park and museum and good food on the west coast, and then the rest of the week in Stockholm.

I've tried to see as many old friends as possible, and have done a fairly good job. Many of them I had not seen in over a year and a half (I didn't meet up with anyone when we were here at new year's, and I was not back at all last summer), so there was a lot of catching up to do.

I did try to be good as well, and brought the laptop (oh, I can't wait for the day that the laptop wont be my number one accessory), but efficient working time so far? Well, probably not more than 30 minutes.

Tomorrow I'm off early to Skavsta/Nyköping, to pick up Tim (the cheapo-airlines of course never flies to central Stockholm). Then on to the summer house, where we probably will spend the rest of the holiday (although the promise of a friend's birthday party might bring us back for a day or two). It's a bit frightening to be driving again (but very excited that I managed to fill up the gas in the car - for the first time in four years?), especially since someone has removed the aerial so there's no radio. I always, always drive with the radio on. I need music to be able to drive properly. I did try singing to myself when driving to the gas station earlier today, but it just wasn't the same... Luckily, I have bought two new (well, to me at least) CDs, so I hope that at least one of them is good...!

I'm now really looking forward to getting out to the summer house. Tim will sleep and fish, I will play with my new camera (birthday gift from mum and dad - also, Tim's mum, who's a photographer has promised to give me a few lessons later on. Sweet!).

Will try and write a few updates. (And if it rains, there will probably not be anything else to do.)

Friday 20/6 part two

After having enjoyed the view from the Church of the Redeemer, we went on to the Church of the holy Sepulcher, which was the thing Tim really wanted to see.

It was rather strange, because I had assumed the church would be much more extravagant, but it was quite modest, at least the exterior, as you can see. The interior was quite varied, but heavily inspired by the Greek orthodox monks that take care of it. We walked around the church, and had a look at the (assumed) shrine of Christ. I felt a bit religious (or rather unworthy for not being more so), while Tim liked the historical aspects of it. I partly regretted not having done enough research on forehand, as there were many parts of the church I/we didn't know anything abouts: caves, shrines, holy cracks (!), altars etc. But it was a great experience.

After having seen the holy Sepulcher we decided it was time for lunch. We found a falafel bar in the bazaar area. Good food, but we were completely ripped off when it came to paying. Oh well, we just had to live with that. Everything else had been very cheap, and if that was the worst that would happen, then that would be ok.

Stuffed with yummy falafels and fresh orange juice we went down to the Western wall (aka ‘the Wailing wall’, see earlier post). It was the first place where we actually met some serious security (apart from the airport, of course). There was bag searches and metal detectors. Once in the area by the wall, I was lent a shawl. I thought I was covered (pun not intended) with a basic t-shirt (no cleavage) and shorts that went over my knees, but apparently women had to cover their arms as well (unclean as we are...). I, unknowingly, tried to enter the men's area (women on one side men on the other), but finally made it there. Tim started chatting to a rabbi by his part of the wall. In the end the rabbi gave (read: sold) us two pieces of red string that had touched the holy wall, and hoped we would be blessed with five children! The strings were tied around our wrists (very Madonna). Tim, however, removed his after a while, not knowing if it had any distinctive social connotations. So, I assume we'll only get 2,5 children now. (Which, to be frank, sounds a lotter better than 5! But we are still debating whether that half will be a midget or not.)

Although the Western Wall was impressive, we were in the midday sun, and it was too hot for us. We tried hiding in the shadows of the bazaars, while aiming for the Dome of the Rock. Unfortunately, all access was denied. I think we came mid prayer. Instead, we went for the thing I wanted to do, which was walking part of the Via Dolorosa. It felt a bit ambitious doing all fourteen stations of the cross and, as it soon turned out, some of them were quite hard to discover, but we aimed for a few of them. We managed to do the first few, but then got terribly lost. The Old town has so many tiny alleyways and unnamed streets, and none of them were straight. I think Tim was a it more worried than me - didn't want to end up in any 'bad' areas or so, but I was absolutely calm. As long as you look like a (Christian) tourist you are ok. Finally, we managed to 'get back on track', as we discovered a sign saying we were by the ninth station. Went in to a Coptic monastery, and had a look at some excavations of the really old Jerusalem.

After all this walking, we headed back to central town and the bus station. It was one of the warmest days so far – the taxi driver on the way back said it was 44 degrees outside, and we were absolutely exhausted when we got on the coach. We had been told that Jerusalem would be absolutely dead by three o'clock, because of the Shabbat, but there was still loads of people around (and several open stores) when we jumped on the coach at four. We now headed to Rehovot, a small town between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, where we met Tim's friend Dror (Israeli jew) and his wife Magda (Polish catholic). We spent the night at their place, playing with their three-year-old son (who really fancied Tim), eating incredible amounts of food and drinking some very nice Israeli wine and Polish vodka! It didn't take a second to fall asleep that night.

Friday 20/6 part one

This was the big day of adventures. We had already decided to devote this day to Jerusalem. We had been offered to use the Firm’s driver, but instead chose to take the local bus to save some money. Jerusalem is about one hour’s drive south east from Tel Aviv, and the bus trip for both of us was only 31 Shekels (=£5) – quite a bargain! The journey was quite pleasant (ah, air-conditioning!) and we got to see some of the landscape. It is quite different further in the country, being up in the mountains it is much less humid and a lot greener (someone told me that 60% of the country is made up by desert). We arrived at the bus station in Jerusalem in the late morning. (And now encountered more of the well known Israeli security – the city was full of soldiers and bag searches and metal detectors when going into shops.) We tried to get another bus to the Old City, but it turned out to be rather complicated. Orthodox jews are not allowed to travel at Shabbat, and since that was quickly coming up they all travelled now. Having saved money on the bus trip, we chose to take a taxi. After some confusing discussions with the taxi driver, he dropped us off at Jaffa Gate, one of the gates of the Old City.

We strolled through some of the bazaars. Here was the kind of things that I wanted to see… Loads of carpets, and bowls and jewellery – very touristy, but that was quite expected. On our way to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (which was the one thing Tim really wanted to see), we stumbled upon the Church of the Redeemer. The church itself was very simple, but had a very tall bell tower. Climbing up was quite an expedition. We were both completely out of breath (and later on we would also walk around with cramps in our calves), but the view was absolutely amazing (breathtaking, ha ha!). You could see all of Jerusalem in all directions. The view of the Dome of the Rock was of course the most impressive:

Wednesday 18/6

We both decided to have a bit of a sleep in today. After breakfast Tim left for the office, and I relaxed in the hotel. Took a long bath and pampered myself. I had burnt myself quite badly the day before. I thought I had put sunscreen on all of my body, but obviously not. The lower parts of my arms as well as my chest (but not neck!) were bright red, and so was a big stripe at the top of my forehead. Very attractive! Well, with this in mind, I did not particularly want to go out in the midday sun. Took a taxi to the Firm at 12.30, and had lunch with Tim and one of the managers, a very friendly woman, originally from the States. We ate in Georgian (!) restaurant, which was quite an experience. (If you ever eat Georgian, opt for things with eggplant, do not chose the chicken.) But it was good!

I walked back to the hotel, since everyone said it was not very far, and that Tel Aviv was really pretty and clean. Well… Tel Aviv is quite difficult to describe. I didn’t realize that the city was so young (first houses built in 1909), and the architecture is very varied. The city is connected to Jaffa, the old port, so there’s a part of town which is old. Some of the buildings are amazing, but most of them are falling to pieces. And brand new buildings are next to ones without windows and where the render is falling down. In all of it many Bauhaus, and further out a few French colonial style houses. The city is a rather strange (but not unpleasant) mix of middle eastern and (European) Mediterranean. I wouldn’t call the city clean, though. (And it scares me that I have not yet seen the parts that are considered dirty.) But where it is pretty, it is really nice. On the walk back, I passed a rather nice and green pedestrian area, as well as Hakarmel, one of the biggest markets. I was a bit disappointed though, because they only sold clothes (mainly t-shirts and underwear) and food. I wanted to see carpets, jewellery and pots and such things. Well, we have saved the flea market in old Jaffa for Sunday. My walk back to the hotel took me one hour and 45 mins! My greatest success along the way, was me being able to buy a bottle of Sprite, using my two words of Hebrew, some Spanish (!) and a piece of paper. I thought the man in the stall looked nice and friendly, which was why I chose to approach him. But he really surprised me by talking to me in Spanish. My basic tourist Spanish should have been enough, but it really took me by surprise when the ‘Shalom’ was followed by a ‘Que tal?’. Anyway, I got to use my word of the day, which was ‘toda’, meaning ‘thank you’. It is probably spelt completely differently, and I have also heard other versions, but it is a start. Tomorrow I am aiming to find out what ‘good bye’ is. It is really strange to be in a country where the language is so different. Tim is a lot more used to Hebrew than I am, but he is rather lost too. Together we are normally quite good at working out things in strange languages, but here, well, it is different. Even going to Paris last autumn I managed to get by on my combination of classical Latin, some tourist Spanish, and a good knowledge on etymology. Here it is impossible to even guess, since we can’t even read the words. It’s quite fascinating.

Tim got back to the hotel about half an hour after me, having spent most of the afternoon meeting collectors and dealers. We went to afternoon tea again, and then down to the beach. I never thought this would happen, since I know that Tim really dislikes open waters and is extremely terrified of sharks. But we went for a swim together, and the water was absolutely amazing! Turquoise and clear, and smooth sand. We walked along the beach for a while, enjoying the pleasant afternoon winds. (It is, by the way, terribly hot here, and the summer hasn’t even started yet! It is about 34° C, but humid and, well, quite unpleasant in the sun.) Afterwards, we had a shower, a very quick light dinner, before rushing down to the lobby to meet one of Tim’s clients. The man, originally from Brooklyn, was very nice, and we spent the rest of the evening in the bar with him. I was a bit nervous, because I had heard that he was orthodox. The orthodox jews have several customs and traditions that are rather ‘peculiar’ (bad choice of word, I know) to westerners; among other things men are not allowed to touch women (as we apparently are unclean) or look them in the eyes. So, what do you do if you cannot shake hands? Of course it all depends on the level of orthodoxy, but this man was liberal enough, and very social although a lot of the conversation was manuscript related. Tim and I ended the evening with a stroll around the area.

Tuesday 17/6

Our first day in Israel. It feels like the longest day of our lives. Like three days rolled into one. Left home at about 19 on the Monday evening. A taxi picked us up, we took a rather long detour via the Firm to collect the property we were going to bring, and then off to Heathrow. It went surprisingly smooth there. I, who had never done this before, thought it would take forever to go through customs (we had to declare the manuscripts and fill in tons of paper), but they were friendly and efficient. We tried being overly nice to the girl at the check in counter, to see if she would bump me up, so I could travel with Tim, but no luck there. We had dinner and some wine, and then rushed off to the gate. (And I managed to squeeze in the quickest tax free shopping of my life – a perfume.)

Boarding at the gate, the alarms went off and red lamps started blinking when they put my ticket through. I panicked a bit inside – I have experienced before security reacting to my name (there’s always something wrong. I made a really bad choice there. The combination of a Swedish ‘ö’, a hyphen and the longest name on the planet is not to be recommended). But I tried to act cool… Well, seems the girl at the check-in counter had listened to us, because I had been upgraded! Fair enough, I was not in first class with Tim, but they had put me in World traveller class plus (whatever that means, but it was definitely one up from the sheep at the back)! Wohooo! It couldn’t have been a better start to the trip!

I said bye to Tim and sat down in my super duper wide seat (and had two entire rows to myself!), and just enjoyed feeling special. Tim, at his end, worked for an hour (he had still not written the paper he was supposed to give), and then came to say good night to me before he went to sleep (he did after all, have a proper bed!). I, on the other hand, enjoyed loads of nice, free wine, and watched a movie. They had so many good movies to choose from that I had a hard time picking one. In the end, I decided to opt for one that Tim would never want to see with me, so I watched ‘the da Vinci code’. I also felt it would be quite a good theme, since we were off to the Holy Land. (And yes, the movie was rubbish.)

I did not sleep at all. When the movie was over, it was only one hour left of the flight. I did try and go to sleep, but every time I lent to the side, I accidentally touched the button that turned on my TV screen, and well, not long after the crew started announcing that we were about to land. We landed at 5.30 local time – 3.30 in England! I have never been so tired. And did I feel old!? I could definitely tell I am no longer a teenager, able to stay up all night. Tim looked just as bad, despite his 2-3 hours of sleep.

Well, we got the manuscripts through the Israeli customs as well, without any problems. The passport woman was amazingly rude to me, but what goes around comes around, I hope. (I was being asked all imaginable questions, why was I here, who did I know, where did they live etc etc.)

A car from the Firm picked us up, and drove us to the office, where a member of staff met us, and put the manuscripts in a safe. Then off to the hotel, finally. And man, are we talking hotel or what?! It the best hotel I have ever stayed in, and the same goes for Tim! They seemed to have bumped us up here as well, because we ended up on the Executive Floor. Amazing room, with the biggest bed I have ever seen, and pillows to die for (forget Wingnut and Stevo, this is a completely different league). Not to mention the view from the balcony: all of southern Tel Aviv, the marina, Old Jaffa, and the never ending sea. And then we were being showed up to the top floor – the Executive Lounge. Here they serve breakfast, snacks, afternoon tea, light dinner, and drinks – all inclusive. And the top floor of course have a panoramic view that is absolutely breath taking! We knew we would like it here!

We had a two hour nap (Tim just half of that, since he still had to finish his paper), before getting up to have breakfast. Tim then left for work, and I went back to sleep! At lunchtime, I went for a walk along the beach, down to the Opera Tower (see photo) and then the backstreets back to the hotel. All in all, the walk took about an hour and a half. When I got back, Tim was already back from the office, asleep in bed. I sat on the balcony, enjoying the girly magazine I had brought from England. Tim slept for about two hours, before we went off to the top floor for some afternoon tea, and then headed off to the Firm again. Tim gave his lecture, and was a great success, although it was not as big an audience as expected. Afterwards a few of us went out for a drink in the area, which was the oldest part of town, and rather pretty. Fell asleep within seconds once we got back to the hotel. Our body clocks being completely ruined.