"Black Day in December" by Said the Whale
"Life on Mars?" by David Bowie
At the beginning of December, Miguel and I stole down to Bristol for a few days to visit Miguel's friend, former roommate, and former Saskatoonian, Sri. Initially, I was hoping that we'd have time to visit Tintern Abbey in the nearby Wye Valley; however, my understanding of distance was deemed decidedly Canadian and so we put the visit to Tintern off until the next trip. Besides, there was plenty to do in Bristol and we only had one full day in the city!
First, Sri took us up to Clifton* for brunch where I was able to have my first bagel in 7 months. Oh sweet carbohydrates, how I'd missed you! Next, we went on a wander about the city centre. We passed by the Llandoger Trow, a 17th century pub, but as it was before noon we kept on walking.
Later on, we ended up back in Clifton and walked across the Clifton Suspension Bridge (1864).
Well, I say walked. Miguel and Sri walked. I panicked and crossed as quickly as possible while trying not to make to much movement in case the whole thing crashed down into the river far, far, far below.
The crossing was worth it, though, because we ended up in Durdham Down, a beautiful park on the edge of Bristol. There are deer, although they are kept behind a fence. I'm still not sure if that's for their safety or ours.
The park is full of cyclists, joggers, walkers, and confused motorists. It took us about an hour to leisurely walk just a small portion of Durdham Down. And after a day of walking around 15 km, we arrived back at Sri with just enough time to watch Potiche and get ready for a house party where we got to visit with Aoife, who I'd also not seen since she lived in Saskatoon.
The next morning, after nearly 48 hours since landing in Bristol, we were heading back to Scotland, the relative calm of our small fishing village, and my real coffee.
Ah yes. The coffee. You know, for a country once dominated by coffeehouses (some schools of thought suggest that the Enlightenment was mostly caffeine-fueled), I cannot believe people willingly drink freeze-dried instant coffee. Apparently, this freeze-dried instant coffee is better than the powdery version, although I cannot taste the difference. If the British had drank instant coffee rather than real coffee in the 18th century, we'd still be living like it was the 17th century. And you don't want Cromwell to come back, do you? No? I thought not. Well, drinking instant coffee is like cheering for Cromwell. Case closed.
* For those Burney scholars, Evelina, whilst recovering her health, visits Clifton with Mrs. Selwyn in Evelina.
Freeze-dried coffee? The horror! The enlightenment would not have happened if people had drunk freeze-dried coffee.
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