Unnecessary Duress in Durham

It seems that Durham is both the cause and place of unnecessary anxiety. Not only did I have an unnecessary amount of hassle in actually getting to Durham, but while in Durham I went through my share of trouble.

But let me begin at the beginning. After the squabble I underwent on Saturday, which I have already related, I arrive at Durham where Erica picked me up. We spent some time in her room, which overlooks a good portion of the city, just talking and catching up. I can't help but feel that we spent more time together in Durham than we did all of last semester. Ok. I know that's not true, but it certainly feels like it. Hopefully this will be remedied when we room together next year.

In any case, once I had settled in, Erica and I went to a little Italian restaurant across the street to meet her friends. There was Tony, an English major from Cornell; Hannano from Japan; Namali from Sri Lanka; Jasmine from Singapore; and a girl named Kuchi who Erica didn't know terribly well. I'm not sure where she's from. In any case we had sort of an awkward dinner, during which I mostly talked to Erica. After dinner we walked around Bailey Street (a main road, where St. Chad's is located) for a bit. We stopped off at the college building and sort of loitered in the foyer for a while, trying to decide where to go. It seems Erica and I seem to find indecisive people all over the world. Finally Tony decided that we should go to a pub called the Swan and Three Cygnets. It was about a ten minute walk and the pub was quite crowded when we got there. It was expensive, too. In any case, I took forever finishing my pint of cider, eventually downing what I had left rather than waste my money. We wanted to leave, since there was no where to sit and it was too loud to really talk. Also becasue some drunk local came up to Erica and I and said something complimentary but unintelligible and slightly creepy. So Erica, Tony, Jasmine, Kuchi, and I went back to the St. Chad's bar, where things were significantly cheaper, but I wasn't really in the mood to drink more. From there Erica wanted to take me to Castle bar. There is actually a college, the original University College, known as "Castle," which is situated, as is to be expected, inside the Norman castle. It's bar is in the dungeon. So we walked up the hill to the castle only to be greeted with a sign that read "Castle Only." Most of the colleges have "College Only" nights when, as one would expect, only students from that college are allowed in the bar. So we walked back down the hill to and stopped off at Cuth (or St. Cuthbert's College) for Tony and Jasmine to get another drink. Then to Hatfield College, St. Chad's big rival, because their bar serves cheese toasties and Jasmine had a craving. I wasn't really hungry, but I didn't want to pass up the toasty experience, so I shared one with Erica. I met a couple of Erica's other acquaintences who were out for a friend's birthday and were all drunk. They didn't remember me when we met the next day. Anyway, but this time Erica and I were really tired, so we went back to her room, talked, and I fell asleep while she worked on a paper. One of her friends had lent me a duvet, which, with Erica's duvet, served as a make-shift mattress, and an extra blanket and pillow made for an acceptable bed.

We woke up late on Sunday. To be honest, I can't actually remember what we did. At some point I know we went to college lunch. They don't ask for ID or meal cards, so it wasn't exactly difficult for Erica to basically sneak me into the dining hall. I can't say much for the selection. You either get whatever the main meal is or the substitute vegetarian meal. That's it. But I can't say no to free food. It was just as she had described it, though. Basically the bland variety of British food, and the vegetarian dishes felt the need to have some sort of fake meat in them, as if vegetables weren't suitable on their own. Anyway, after lunch, I'm pretty sure we went back to Erica's room so that she could work on her paper. I think this is when I wrote my previous blog post.
In the evening we went to college dinner (same routine) and then to the St. Chad's pantomime. Apparently this is an English tradition, probably with its roots in medieval Christmas pageants. However, they no longer have to have any relation to Christmas, and this one certainly didn't. Basically it was some warped version of Aladdin, where Aladdin was the closeted homosexual son of an androgynous chippy owner, Jasmine was a bitchy princess modeled after girls from My Super Sweet Sixteen, and Rahja the tiger was a pot-smoking guy in a tiger suit known as Easy Tiger. Instead of Jafar, there was the evil Mahatmah Hatfield. Because Erica had told me a lot about St. Chad's culture, I was able to get most of the inside jokes (and there were a lot). There were also a lot of references to British pop culture, which I was also grateful to understand. In any case, hillarity ensued...for almost three hours. It was great, but by the end, Erica and I were a bit tired, and she had still had that paper to write. So we stopped by the library for a second to drop off a book, then back to her room where we talked, and I, once again, fell asleep while she worked.

With the morning on Monday came the realization that Erica had overslept and missed her last (and mandatory) Ancient Egyptian class. I went out and bought us some scones for breakfast while she worked. Sometime in the afternoon, Erica did work and I went for a little tour of town. First I stopped at Durham Cathedral, which is a beautiful and enormous cathedral right across from the castle. It struck me at first as being a bit unsusal, since it's the first cathedral I've seen built out of sandstone. Beyond that, though, it's the resting place of two saints: St. Cuthbert and the Venerable Bede. I visited them both and simply walked around the cathedral for a while. I still love cathedrals. They're so peaceful. After a look around the gift shop (for, you guessed it, another spoon) I walked around back and down Bailey Street. I stopped into Waterstones (kind of like a Borders) and bought Mary Shelley's The Last Man, a book I'd been looking for for a while. Basically, it's Mary Shelley's version of the human annihilation by plague and sort of her anti-Romantic reaction to the deaths of her husband, her two children, and her friend Lord Byron. I haven't gotten very far yet, but it's starting out as quite long-winded. I just need to get used to that style again.
From Waterstones I went to a boutique called The Mugwump. I need to stop window-shopping at boutiques. It only depresses me. There was this beautiful cotton jersey dress with a little beading on it...£159. So sad. Anyway, I then walked down to the main square and browsed the covered market for a while, before I got tired and decided to head back to Erica's room and caught her just about to leave for her last class. I spent the afternoon watching TV on Erica's computer and reading Graham Swift's Waterland (which I should have finished about a month ago for HUM 310). Around 5:45 Erica came back and we went to college dinner and repeated our activities of the previous night. We talked for a while, then I fell asleep while Erica worked.

My second bout of Durham Duress occured on Tuesday when, at some point during the morning, I realized that I had lost my railcard. I tore the room apart, but no luck. I last remembered having it in my pocket. I had already lost my nifty ear muffs and believed that they had fallen out of my coat pocket at the panto. I stayed in the room to panic while Erica headed out to the library to do some last minute editing and printing. She stopped by the college on the way over and asked about a railcard, but no one had seen anything. So I tried to calm down and finished Waterland. I then decided that the best course of action was to retrace my steps. My first stop was the cathedral, where I was asked to write down my information in case anyone found anything. I then went to the cathedral shop and asked there, but no luck. I stopped by the college and asked for myself, but got the same answer that Erica had gotten. I proceeded to retrace my steps from the previous day, stopping at every shop I had gone to on Monday and asking if anyone had found a railcard. Finally, I decided that I had truly lost it and that I should probably go to the rail station to buy another so that I could get home the next day. It was a long walk to the rail station and I hadn't eaten anything yet that day. Durham, unlike East Anglia, is quite hilly, so the walk was a bit arduous as well. In any case, I finally got all the way up to the hill where the rail station was. I knew that to get my 16-25 Railcard I would need a passport photo. There was a photobooth right there, but I didn't have any coins, only a £20 note, so I decided to buy some lunch at the station cafe in order to get some change. As I was pulling out my money to buy my panini, I saw a little blue plastic bit sticking out of an obscure pocket of my wallet and came to the horrible realization that my rail card had been in my wallet the entire time. I usually keep it in my wallet, but in a different pocket. I had walked all the way to the rail station for nothing. Anyway, I sat down and ate half of my sandwich. The other half I saved for Erica, who I assumed had also not eaten that day. I used the opportunity, however to indulge my optimistic side. I stood on the hill, which had a beautiful view overlooking the city, and took pictures that I had been to tired to take when I had first arrived at Durham. I then smiled as I thought of how the walk would be easier on the way down the hill, and how I could consider the whole day an adveture during which I had an excuse to revisit the cathedral and walk around the city. Good God, what's happening to me?
I went back to Erica's room, started reading The Last Man and tried to take a nap. Erica had been out all day at the library. When she got back, I offered her the other half of my sandwich and we talked as she finished up some drawings for her Architectural Illustration class. Then she was officially done with work, and we decided to go out for Indian food to celebrate. However, Tony called and suggested that we go over to Jasmine's room for Indian takeaway, which we did. We also freaked Tony out by watching Disney's Aladdin on Jasmine's computer as we waited for the food to arrive. Around 9:30 Erica and I decided to leave because we were exhausted. We spent the night snuggling in her bed, watching Love Actually and eating an enormous block of Cadbury before we settled down for bed.

In the morning I woke up and packed while Erica ran out to turn in her illustrations. Then she and I walked to the station, stopping for breakfast pasties on the way. I double and triple checked my train's platform because I was so nervous from my trip up, but everything went according to plan. I bid my farewell to Erica, but it wasn't terribly tearful, since we're going to see each other in about two weeks anyway. I took the train down to Peterborough. I was supposed to catch the 14.40 to Norwich, but the 13.40 was running 10 minutes late, so I was able to catch it only a few minutes after my train from Durham arrived. Maybe it was some cosmic apology for all the shit I went through on the way up. Or maybe just a coincidence. I sometimes wonder what's makes more sense: blaming everything on God or Fate, or pure coincidence. Either way, I got back to Norwich an hour earlier than I had anticipated. There was a bus waiting just as I got off the train. Fortuitous is all I can say. I was back in my room about half an hour later. I made myself an early dinner and indulged a weird craving to watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Then I relived my high school years by watching a few episodes of Daria.

Yesterday I got up and made breakfast. I'm trying to use up all of my perishables before I leave for Istanbul. I got dressed and went down campus to exchange money back to US Dollars so that I could buy my visa in Istanbul. They only accept US Dollars. It's really really strange to have dollars in my wallet again. Then I stopped by the Travel Office to buy a ticket back from London to Norwich on Jan. 11, since it's a Sunday and I didn't want to risk not being able to get a seat. On a whim, I decided to catch the bus downtown to get my hair cut. I don't know why my friends have been going to expensive salons to get their hair done. I walked into this funky little salon/tatoo shop called Bojanles where a cut and blow dry is only £15 and got an appoinment for about an hour later. I spent the hour wandering around Waterstones and I grabbed a drink at this organic juice bar in the Royal Arcade. Then I headed back to Bojangles. Everyone there was really nice and seemed strangely interested to have an American in the salon. They kept asking me questions and the guy at the desk said he liked my accent. It's not often that I'm reminded that I'm a foreigner, so it's sort of strange. This time it wasn't creepy, though. I can't say I've had anything drastic done. I just don't think I could carry off this British penchant for bangs (which they call a "fringe). Just a trim and a bit of a clean up. My ends were getting a bit ratty.
I got home, made dinner, and watched more online TV. This time it was Forgetting Sarah Marshall, which I had heard was funny. It was, but I think it would be funnier if I had watched it with other people.
It's been kind of lonely since I got back from Durham. All of my flatmates are gone. All of my friends have gone home. Stephen and Pawel are still around, since they live in Norwich, but I haven't seen them yet. I think we might get together tomorrow night. I'd like to see them before I leave. I never thought I'd want to go home for Christmas, and I'm glad that I'm not. Istanbul will make for a far more exciting Christmas vacation. It's just that seeing everyone else go home for Christmas makes me wish I was, too. For the first time, I'm really missing the comforts of home. Being with Erica didn't help much, either. I mean, I'm really glad I saw her. I haven't spent that much time with her in ages and she's one of the only people I can talk to about absolutely everything. But she was planning her trip home, and we kept talking about Dickinson, our two years past, our year to come. It made me nostalgic for home.

I literally didn't do anything today. I've spent the last three hours writing this blog. I talked to Fadi on Skype. I wrote a couple short emails. I read the Wikipedia entry on Istanbul. I might have watched an episode of Buffy this morning. I can't remember. I haven't even gotten dressed. I'll probably make dinner sometime soon, but this will probably be another night spend in my room watching a movie online. Tomorrow I need to pick up a couple things at the post room, do my laundry, and start packing. I'd like to maybe hang out with Pawel and Stephen, too.

I'm really excited for my trip this break. It'll be very long, and I'll probably be broke by the end of it, but it should be good.
My schedule:
Dec 22 - Take the train down to London and stay at a hotel by Heathrow for the night.
Dec 23 - Leave at 9:45 from Heathrow to Istanbul to meet my parents at the airport.
Dec 23-27 - Christmas in Istanbul
Dec 27 - Fly with the family from Istanbul to Munich
Dec 27 - 30 - Munich, seeing Neuschwanstein Castle and Linderhof Palace
Dec 27 - Family flies home. I fly to Belfast, Northern Ireland to meet Alex and Erica.
Dec 30-Jan 1 - New Year's in Belfast
Jan 1-2 - Travel north to and stay a night at the Giant's Causeway
Jan 2-5 - South to Dublin
Jan 5-6 - Take the ferry from Dublin to Holyhead, Wales. Stay the night.
Jan 6-11 - Train to London, staying at the Arran House.
Jan 11 - I head back to Norwich. Classes start the next day.

So, as you can see, I have quite a busy schedule ahead of me. It should be good, though. I'm very excited. I don't feel "holiday season-y," exactly. I can't imagine feeling Christmas-y in Istanbul, bit I'm willing to forfeit the traditional holiday cheer for some jet-setting.

Time to plan Spring Break.