Oklahoma – Where the wind… part 1

It’s strange what people think about when you tell them you’re from Oklahoma. For some reason, when we tell Brits that we’re from Oklahoma, they usually make one of two possible associations. The first possible association is something that’s very mysterious to Brits: the tornado… and, in particular, the movie Twister is their primary source of information about and fascination with Oklahoma weather. Another possible association is the song Oklahoma from the musical by the same name (actually, the name of the musical ends with an exclamation point, Oklahoma!, which makes it awesome). The strange thing about the latter, however, is not that our state is most readily identified as a Rogers and Hammerstein musical, rather, it’s how often I’ve had the following conversation:

“Oh, you’re going home this summer? Where are you from, Collin?”
“Well I’m glad you asked, strange person. I’m from Oklahoma!”
“Really?! Like the musical?”
“Yes, like the musical.”
And then it happens… they start singing… “Ooooooklahoma where the wind…” and that’s about as far as most of them remember, so they start making the rest of it up… so far, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard about a hundred variations on the first line, including the following:
“Oklahoma, where the wind sweeps <something something> rain”
“Oklahoma, where the wind goes whistling down the street”
And my favorite, “Oklahoma, where the rain comes running down the road” (thanks for that one, Abby)

So, with that preface, let us begin the recap of our trip to Oklahoma. When we returned from our epic UK Road-trip Extravaganza 2010, we had one day in Cambridge before heading to DFW. We packed feverishly, and I remember thinking to myself that I probably wouldn’t need to take anything long sleeved because it would be so hot…

Let me make a few comments about the heat, and then I’ll be done. It’s so freakin’ hot! In my head, I could remember that OK summers are hot, and I tried to prepare myself for the heat, I even said to myself that I was ready for the heat, that I missed it… that I wanted to step off the plane and not be able to breathe because it was so hot. Imagine living in a place for a year and rarely even getting to 70°… now imagine what the heat index on 95° feels like! Let’s just say it doesn’t matter how your mind remembers it, your body never gets used to it. Okay, I’m done complaining now.

Chris, Rebekah, and Gracie picked us up at the airport… it was good to see Gracie :)

Gracie had learned so much since we had last seen her, and she really wanted to drive us home… (as if I need to say it: not really)

She got a little bit gangsta, and started saying something about the pow-lice tryin’ to catch her ridin’ dirty.

Chris reminded her that she always needed to watch the road when driving…

When we got to the house, Chris and I went outside to take care of a wasp problem that they’ve had around the house… equipped with a can of 20 ft. jet spray wasp killer, Chris prepared for the slaughter…

Then Chris and I got a little sidetracked on our way to kill the wasps…

Awww… I love my brother :).

Here’s a little video of Gracie while Chris was still out dealing with the wasps. Enjoy!

UK Road-trip Extravaganza 2010—Dublin edition cont’d (Tiffani's birthday!)

Okay, so last time I told you about our adventure in leaving Dublin, but I didn’t really get to tell you anything about Dublin itself, which is a shame, because it’s a really nice place.

This is our hostel, Avalon House; we chose to stay there because it shares a name with the 90’s pop-Christian singing group, and because they were flying the Canadian flag on the side of the building… we figured they had to be nice people. We shared the smallest two-story dorm room in the world… complete with a circular staircase and a bathroom so small they had to put the sink in the shower, you could literally do business at all three bathroom venues without moving.

We visited Trinity College in Dublin and saw, among other things, a sculpture that is one of three… it’s twins are in the Vatican Museum in Rome and the UN Headquarters in New York City. I thought that was cool :)

But even cooler than that… some of you might not know that I hold a special admiration for The Blessed Cardinal John Henry Newman. He was a Catholic priest and educator who wrote, among other things, a treatise called “The Idea of the University,” which happens to be one of the most inspiring writings about that which all universities strive to become. As it happens, in 1852 Newman came to Dublin to become the first Rector at the newly founded Catholic University of Ireland, a university which James Joyce later attended… The Blessed Newman also founded and built the University Church next door. We went in the church to check it out and we met the current priest, who was very friendly and was delighted to hear our stories about how we all had come to admire Newman’s life.

While in Dublin, we also celebrated Tiffani’s birthday, which was on the solstice, so we enjoyed staying out late and it not getting dark outside until midnight. Here’s Tiffani at her birthday dinner (she insisted on being photographed with her bobble-head figurine of The President). We love you, Tiff! The night was epic: I’m pretty sure Tiffani ended up flirting with a Dublin accountant named Patrick for a couple of hours; I’m also fairly certain we met some Dubliners who claimed they were South African, along with an American who claimed she was a Dubliner; we heard live music from an Irishman who did David Bowie covers; I vaguely remember one Irish girl we ran into who kept saying the word ‘prostitute’ in a thick Irish accent; and I can’t really be certain, but I think a bouncer outside of a rave invited us to bypass the line and go directly inside his club… all or none of these things may or may not have happened… all I know, it was a fun night for Tiff’s birthday.

I suppose this is the close of our road trip series… on our way home, we took a picture of the trip odometer when it rolled over 1000 miles. The reason the picture below reads “609” is because the car is in kilometers. I remembered from track that when you would run the mile, you would go four times around the 400 meter track, but then you would run another 9 meters to finish out the mile… so I figured 1609 meters in a mile (=1609 kilometers in 1000 miles). I was a little bummed that we didn’t get the camera out in time to get it right on the 1609.0, but when I got home, I got curious about the exact conversion… it turns out that 1000 miles is actually 1609.3 kilometers :)… you can imagine my thrill at finding out how accurate our picture really was! You can call me a geek or a nerd or a dork or whatever, but you have to admit that the coincidence is kind of cool :).

UK Road-trip Extravaganza 2010—Dublin edition

We woke up in Dublin on Wednesday morning eager to begin our long trek home to Cambridge. We had had an awesome week, but by this time I think we were weary of sleeping in hostels and walking uphill so often. We awoke early in order to catch our 8:45 ferry from Dublin to Wales. We were only 4 miles from the port, so we expected an easy trip, an 8:15 arrival, and smooth sailing. We were wrong. 

I programmed Kate (the affectionate name we've given to our Sat nav/GPS) to find the ferry, which she did with no problem. The problem, however, came when we discovered just how clueless Kate was about driving in Dublin. The entire trip thus far we were in no real hurry to get anywhere, taking our time on the road and enjoying the scenery. Only on this morning was it imperative that we be somewhere on time... and, well... epic fail, Kate... epic.

There was a moment when we all realized that Kate didn't know what she was talking about... I think it was when she told us to turn the wrong way down a one way street, or maybe when she wanted us to turn left into a field. All I know is that the tenor of yelling, crying, sign-reading, and head turning escalated until at one point it reached a fever pitch with Tiffani yelling "Ferry port straight" from a sign she'd seen; Kate saying, "You're over the speed limit. Turn back now. You're over the..."; Me screaming at Kate to shut her face before I threw her out the window and showed her what she could do with her speed limits; Candice saying, "Shut Kate up, Collin... give her to me and I'll sort her out"; and Matt looking at a road map of Scotland saying, "Where is Dublin?!" [I might have made part or all of this up]

In the midst of all this panic and discord, it was the Happy Honda who stayed cool, calm, and collected; she was bobbing, weaving, and speeding through downtown Dublin with acrobatic agility. She came through for us when we needed her most... which happened to be when I was at my craziest... picture this:

A long line at a stoplight waiting to turn across a lane of traffic, a ferry ship in the distance; you know that's your ship, you must get there... a car full of passengers waiting with bated breath, counting on you to get them to the ferry... and you, waiting at a stoplight, trying to turn, but also noticing that the oncoming lane of traffic is empty… the line isn't moving, you must act now or miss your ferry… something very strange begins to happen… faintly at first, but then growing louder and louder, the Indiana Jones theme begins to play in the back of your head… suddenly, with a pat on the dashboard of the Happy Honda for good luck, you floor it, the car springs into the opposite lane (into oncoming traffic) past the long line of cars waiting to turn at the intersection... no cars are coming yet, but you know you won't make it if you try to go all the way into the intersection, so you turn, but onto the wrong side of the road, you cross the lane of oncoming traffic and merge… forget it… it’s too hard to describe in words; so let us turn to rudimentary still-life animation for assistance :)

…it was epic, and I'm pretty sure my passengers were scared to death. But we made it to the ferry. And I think I may have heard some applause from the other cars admiring my driving prowess.

UK Road-trip Extravaganza 2010—Coastal Highway Edition

When we stepped off the ferry, we told Kate (our GPS) to take us up the coast on the tiny road that wound up and down and around the cliffs and beaches. The day couldn’t have been more perfect… this gives you a good idea of what it looked like basically around every corner:

The road was narrow, and the Happy Honda struggled with the steep inclines, but in the end, I think this is definitely the only way to really see Northern Ireland.

At the end of our day, we showed up at our hostel, which was in a perfect location.

The only problem was that we had booked a six person room for the four of us, and there happened to be one other guy in the room. Normally, this wouldn’t bother us, except that the room smelled like feet, and no offense to the guy’s feet… but his feet were offensive.

The next day was another day of driving; we saw castles…

… we walked across a rope bridge…

… to a small island where we contemplated the important things in life…

… and just in case you’re wondering, I’m pretty sure I was looking at this…

… which doesn’t really do it justice, because it was more like this…

And at the end of the day, we drove inland a little while to the hostel where we were staying the night. In the middle of nowhere in Northern Ireland, we stayed in a hostel owned and operated by a genuine, bona-fide, Irish Storyteller. Apparently, running the hostel is just something she does on the side… storytelling is her profession. Like an ancient bard she told us the love story of Fenvola and Angus Macallan; she told us a modern love story about a soldier’s honor toward his true love; and best of all, she recited the poem that told the tale of St. Patrick driving all the snakes out of Ireland, complete with St. Patrick’s bite on the nose from a ‘wee Presbyterian adder’. It was awesome… a perfect experience to top off an already awesome couple of days in Northern Ireland.

UK Road-trip Extravaganza 2010—On the Irish Sea edition

We left Edinburgh early in the morning in order to catch a ferry to Northern Ireland. The Happy Honda was content to take a ride on the ferry, and we were content to go back to sleep once the ferry trip was underway… we laid down in a big booth in one of the lounge areas, but we didn’t sleep long. Something was happening around us that we could not ignore… when we awoke, we were surrounded by moustaches. It’s almost as if our slumber had transported us to a magical land where everyone had a moustache. We obviously would not be able to sleep any longer with the sound of moustaches keeping us awake. So, we decided to do some moustache hunting.

Caution: What you are about to see is rare (and ridiculous) footage of the secret moustache convention. It is about 9:30am, I mention the time so that you might notice the amount of beer-drinking that is taking place among the 'staches… during the video, my travelling companions try to refrain me from filming, not out of embarrassment, but out of fear, for the moustache gets mighty vicious when it thinks it is being filmed… thus, we had to be as covert as possible.

Disclaimer: if you are one of the people being filmed in this video, I would hope that you feel commended by our sheer amazement at your beardiness. However, if you feel insulted in any way, please do not hunt us down and beat us up; instead, you might channel your energies in more constructive ways: http://www.worldbeardchampionships.com/.

UK Road-trip Extravaganza 2010—Edinburgh edition

After our barn adventure in the Lake District, we headed to Scotland to visit Edinburgh. We had heard from several people that if we only went to one place in Scotland, we should go to Edinburgh… the legends are true, it is awesome. 

The city feels very historical, kind of like an old book, one that has character, worn edges, and the smell of a scotch in its oft turned pages. The castle in the center of the city sits high on a hill overlooking the city; the north sea lies to the east and the rolling hills of the Scottish lowlands lie to the west. This is the view from Arthur’s Seat, a hill on the south side of the city.

We had a good time in Edinburgh; we stayed in a hostel on the coast, and they had free parking and a shuttle to the city centre, which was perfect. What was not perfect was having to sleep in tiny twin beds in a really hot room, nor having to walk a quarter mile down the hall to get to the bathroom and showers. Nonetheless, that which only costs you 10 pounds cannot be too harshly criticized.

As we’d mentioned earlier, Matt’s bag (and my shiny new camera) had not yet arrived, and by this time, it had been about 4 days… so we were getting worried. We were sitting in a cafe in Edinburgh, eating something delightful for lunch (though I can’t remember now what it was I was eating, which, if you know me, is sort of strange). All I remember is that Candice got a phone call, said, “Uh-huh… yes… uh-huh…” and then started motioning wildly that they had found Matt’s bag! We started celebrating with whispers and high fives, being sure to be quiet to hear what came next. After the call, we made such a fuss that the ladies who ran the cafe wanted to know what in the world was going on… so we told them… they smiled and I think one of them might have clapped her hands a little bit. We were relieved; it was a good lunch. Also, this is Matt’s happy face when he heard they had found his bag.

After that we went to Edinburgh castle, where Matt and I posed for a picture with a giant cannon… several things about this are funny: 1. Matt prefers that we match whenever we go out, so if you’ll notice, Matt and I are wearing the same pants; 2. I am wearing headphones for the castle audio guide, it’s probably telling me something cool about the cannons right now; 3. I’m sporting the classic tourist look… in addition to the audio guide hanging around my neck with headphones attached, I also have the jacket around the waist, the camera case attached to my hip via belt loop, and my cargo pants pocket stuffed with travel necessities :).

We love you, Edinburgh, and we hate to leave… but Northern Ireland has summoned us with her Celtic beauty and we shan’t ignore her call.

UK Road-trip Extravaganza 2010—Lake District edition

With Matt and Tiffani having arrived in Cambridge, we had a pretty ambitious plan for the next week. We allowed one day in Cambridge for them to adjust to the time, and we spent most of that day planning the road trip that would begin the next morning. For four people who are fairly well-organized and put-together, we seemed to have vastly underprepared for our travels. Nonetheless, the next morning we struck out onto the open road in the Happy Honda with nothing but our sleeping bags, GPS, food, backpacks, cameras, travel books, water bottles, and a bobble head of President Obama playing the ukulele in a Hawaiian shirt… as it turns out, for four very underprepared people, we had a lot of crap.

The one thing we did not have, however, was Matt’s bag. After all the hoopla with airlines to get Matt to London, apparently it was too much to ask for them to also bring along his luggage. Not only was this hugely inconvenient for Matt, but it was also a bit of a disappointment for me, since I had arranged for Matt to bring along a brand new camera I had bought for our trip... and, as it happens, my camera was still in Matt’s bag, who knows where. Not to be deterred by petty things like not having clothes, Matt was a trooper, and nary a complaint was heard. And thus our trip began, the four of us headed for the Lake District in Northern England, where we would spend the night around a campfire, sleeping in the Fell End barn near Lake Coniston. It was beautiful, except the part about Matt having to wear my underwear, which might be beautiful in a different way… a very different way.

 

You were good to us once again, Fell End Barn. Next stop: Edinburgh, Scotland