(Overly) Warm, (Pleasantly) Welcoming Warszawa

In December of 2004, I set foot on the island of Britain for the first time, and was entranced as a reader.

In September of 2007, I set foot on the island of Britain and made it my home.

I spent so much of this spring waiting for God to work a miracle so that I. and I could stay in that country that we had made our home, but when it became apparent that this was not to be, I began planning the most glorious final hurrah I could imagine for our final weeks in Europe. Britain was determined that we leave their shores by the traditional anniversary of American independence from Britain (by this I mean the fourth rather than the second of July) so we went to my new favourite country for a three-tiered holiday intended, nebulously, for "getting healthy."

We began in Warszawa, in a hostel on the fourth floor of a stately old building with the most enormous stairs conceivable. Most of our stay in the capitol city of Poland was spent eating and drinking (because "getting healthy" requires rest and relaxation).

(Above: I. consults a map at one of the sidewalk cafes we visited on our first afternoon in Warszawa)
(Below: I. with his own cone of what was possibly the most disappointing ice cream I have ever had in Poland, in part because despite its rather significant volume, the middle was hollow!)

We had goulash at this restaurant one night. Although they had indoor seating, this photo was actually taken from our dinner table.

This building is called the "Palace of Culture and Science." We've neve been inside, but it is one of the big Warszawa landmarks.

We began our Poland trip in Warszawa this time for two reasons. First of all, the plane tickets were delightfully inexpensive. At the same time, having had only an hour to see Lazieniki Park and the Palace on the Water on our last trip (and in the dead of winter) I particularly wanted to spend a day wandering around the park and showing I. (who was already back in Britain for my Lazieniki dash) its splendors.

We had a very happy afternoon in the park, though we walked less than I had planned because it was ridiculously and miserably hot for our entire two days in Warszawa.

I. was able to see his first peacock up close!

There were several peacocks in the park, and they kept up a rousing discourse with one another from various sides of the lake.

Eventually, we found a bench and stopped to enjoy the view for a while. It was quite tolerable:

One of the big plans for this trip was to hike the Tatras mountains in Southern Poland, so we spent only two days in Warszawa before hopping on a train to the mountain city of Zakopane. And, in the interest of drawing out our final hurrah for as long as possible, I shall save the Zakopane photos for our next post.

On the Move Again . . .

At the end of July, I. and I settled down to a new regime. Living in my parents' (lovely and spacious) attic, we began sending out dozens of applications (about five a day apiece) to jobs in locations all over the United States. When I finished my five applications early in the day, I blogged (hence why August has been a semi- productive blogging month) and scouted for more jobs to which I might apply the following day. I looked at a number of retail posts, while my charming husband focused on jobs in the tutoring and teaching industries. We had phone interviews, Skype interviews, and recorded video interviews, and I was offered an in-person interview for a temporary job in upstate New York, although eventually that one.

Late one Tuesday night, I tossed out a random application to a small Christian school in rural Tennessee. I had such difficulty finding a correct email address on the website that I didn't even bother to list this job on my running database of applications. On Wednesday morning, the headmaster called to arrange a Skype interview (always exciting on my parents' rural internet connection), and then two more, and at half-past four on Wednesday afternoon, he offered me the job. I. and I threw some clothes into a suitcase, grabbed our laptops and toiletries, and were off! I had my first social engagament as a member of staff on Thursday evening, and began teaching the following Monday.

In the last two weeks, we have found a house to rent, bought our first grown-up appliances, and started church shopping. My amazing husband actually hooked up our dryer all by himself (which is, I think, the most complicated mechanical task either of us has ever accomplished) and I have spent most of my days trying to wrap my head around last year's syllabi and trying to create a strategy for teaching students with a very wide range of skills and abilities. Everything about the last two weeks has been a bit of a surprise, but God's hand has been evident in every step we have taken so far. (Moving to rural Tennessee has still been a bit of a culture shock).

As we await an opportunity to pack and ship or transport our belongings, we have been relying heavily on the generosity of my new colleagues and other members of the school's community. Southern hospitality has come out in full force lately, and we are benefitting from a colleague's air mattress, a table and chairs belonging to another colleague and her college-age child, and the advice of dozens of friendly and well-intentioned families. I originally worried that our adventires would dwindle away when we moved back to the United States, but my fears, so far, have been unfounded. 

Last week, I asked my students to introduce me to the area by recommending a place I should visit once I had a bit of spare time. After some protestations that there is "nothing to do around here," they eventually suggested a very wide range of stores, parks, and other destinations, most of which I am looking forward to seeing with my own eyes very much.

Given that I am trying to catch up on a lot of prep work, I've not yet been to any of my students' recommended destinations. However, for simple beauty, our backyard isn't bad. This is the view from the back patio:

The front porch sports a decent view in the mornings, as well:

More later!

C'est la Heatwave

Last autumn, possibly before I even applied to my Sheffield post, I wrote proposals for a short assortment of conferences, mostly in North America and one in France. I've never been all that interested in going to France (though I enjoyed my day trip to Calais a few years ago, that was in large part due to the company and the eclairs) and, indeed, was not particularly excited about the location of this conference. I may have been one of the only people who applied to this conference in spite of (rather than because of) its location in Montpellier, only a few miles from the Mediterranean Sea.

My ever-patient husband, who listened to a litany of anti-France grumblings for at least a month, would have loved to have spent four days in sunny Montpellier, basking in the heat and enjoying the coffee. (I did, at least, enjoy the coffee). Originally I had invited him to come along, but the School of English funding petered out a bit at the end of the year (and I waited a bit too long to book my travel) so I used up I.'s travel money on my own travel.

In a blog post that showed growth and maturity, the previous paragraphs would then be followed by a paragraph explaining that my bias against France was unwarranted, that I now love France, and that I had a wonderful time. It's more fair to say that I enjoyed the conference in spite of the location, and that the coffee, cheese, and colleagues actually made up for the exhaustive and incessant heat in a land that has clearly never even considered the idea of refrigerated air. It was also, as I think the photographs will show, actually quite beautiful whenever I wiped away enough sweat to allow myself to see the scenery.

(I whine about heat a lot, but during my trip, I actually spent four consecutive days sweating constantly, even when taking ice-cold showers. I had planned for this somewhat by bringing an assortment of sleeveless dresses, which I peeled off at the end of each day and let dry overnight before shoving their stiffened forms into a plastic bag in my suitcase, but it was pretty awful).

At most academic conferences, attendees can usually choose to attend various seminars (or discussions between people who have already read one another's work) or panels (where the panel members read papers aloud and then invite general questions and discussion) that often run concurrently. (This conference was primarily built around seminars.) Almost every conference I've ever attended (including this one) has also had several sessions called "plenaries," in which invited guests give lectures (or read papers) to the majority of the delegates, with no other scheduled items on the schedule. Our plenaries were held in the oldest Theatre of Medicine in Europe.

The acoustics were occasionally challenging, but the setting was pretty stunning. I stayed a bit outside the city, so I took the tram to the School of Medicine each morning, and the following two photos show two parts of my walk from the tram stop to the Theatre (you can see the tram tracks at the bottom of the first picture).

In the above picture, one would turn left near the stoplight to go to the medical theatre, but on the right side of the street was a lovely large botanical garden originally designed to supplement the scholarly work being done in the School of Medicine.

One of the most amazing things about this conference were the coffee breaks, in which the university supplied copious amounts of espresso and little baby pain au chocolats or croissants. We had long breaks (allowing lots of time for networking) and enormously long lunch breaks (necessary in Montpellier, we learned). On one of the first afternoons of the conference, I also took a long lunch to re-read all the papers for my seminar, accompanied by a very delicious cup of espresso that, like most things in Montpellier, cost far more than I had anticipated. It was nevertheless very delicious (also, to be fair, like most things in Montpellier).

My seminar was easily the best thing about the conference, but given the relaxed nature of our schedule, I also took some time to wander around the city, something I don't always manage to do on academic trips. On one lazy afternoon, I meandered to the aforementioned botanical gardens, which were not only beautiful, but also filled with quite a lot of other conferencegoers.

The gardens were stunning (and also really hot).

I really loved this flower, though I don't now recall what it was called:

One of my favourite parts of the botanical gardens was the very large bamboo garden, around the edge of which were many stalks on which people had carved their names and initials.

I took this picture of cacti for Isaac; the shadows are funny because the cacti were kept in a greenhouse (in case it got too hot in Montpellier, perhaps?)

This cat was supremely friendly, and each time I stopped down to try to take a photograph of her, she would exuberantly scamper towards me and try to wind herself around my ankles. I mostly evaded her, and eventually managed to take a photo from some distance.

I also spent one afternoon skiving the conference sessions and wandering around the city centre for a bit. Montpellier seems to have been built upon a hill initially, and that hill is now a warren of alleys and squares, most of which are lined with shops and cafes.

(I had lunch in this square one night, and my seminar group had dinner down a little alley from it one evening as well).

By far, one of the best features of Montpellier were the grocery stores and markets selling probably hundreds of differing types of cheese. On my last night in Montpellier, I played recluse and treated myself to a round of brie and a bottle of wine (only to find that my little French apartment with a kitchen hadn't stocked a bottle opener!).

My skiving afternoon took me to some very beautiful locations. The two fountains below are at opposite ends of an enormous pedestrian walkway, which is shown more clearly in the third photo. Many parts of this walkway are lined with cafes and shops, and it begins at an enormous shopping mall just at the edge of the city centre and ends at a little canal with a cluster of internationally-themed restaurants.

The palm-tree-lined street below is on the south side of the city centre, I think. 

These two photographs show two parts of the square in front of one of the large Montpellier theatres (the Commedia, perhaps?). The theatre is the building at the top of the first photo. Apparently lots of people like to sit on the steps and drink, which--although the entire square is more or less surrounded by outdoor cafes serving alcohol--seems to be frowned upon by the authorities.

The above photo is almost the view from the theatre's front steps (not quite, as they were covered by a pop-up cafe). There's a tram stop at the right side of this photo.

On my last evening, I briefly considered going to the sea just to say I had been, but eventually elected to stay in my flat and unwind. Someday, God willing, I. and I will go to the Mediterranean together, and see it for the first time in one another's company.

Perhaps because of the conference and the apparently enormous popularity of southern France, flights to Montpellier were excruciatingly expensive during the dates I required, so I elected to make this trip entirely via train. It was my first trip on the Eurostar, and also required two confusing (and fast-paced) connections in Paris. I appreciated getting to see this staple of American-films-set-in-Europe with my own eyes:

I don't think I'd ever realised until this trip that the flipping board is actually real, and modern. I tried to take the photo while the destinations were switching, but it isn't quite as exciting in this static capture as it was in person. (Also, it only flips every five or ten minutes--or every time a train departs--which is decidedly misrepresented in American films, in which it seems to be in constant motion).

By far, the best part of the travel was getting to take my first double-decker train from Paris to Montpellier, which involved getting to see the Pyrenees. Although French, they were actually very lovely.

After I arrived safely back in Sheffield, I had a day to finish wrapping up things at the University, spent another day transcribing at Chatsworth, and then I. and I spent two days absolutely crazed with packing and cleaning. Despite a somewhat crazed last-ditch attempt to give away all our worldly possessions on freecycle, we managed to shove twelve suitcases into a storage unit, and then treated ourselves to a wonderful final hurrah in Poland (coming in the next blog installment).

Logistical June

June was crazy. It began with several enormous and daunting piles of marking and ended with a string of complicated travelling plans that didn't really ease up once the month had ended. We were blessed with the chance to see a some good friends and beloved family members, and I was able to visit several new places, both domestic and international, but by the end of the month I. and I were more or less madly throwing items into suitcases and wishing we could have about five days just to sleep.

We spent a good deal of late June on trains (pictured below) or in train stations (also pictured below), mostly because I can be an overly paranoid traveller. This particular train station is in Helensburgh, Scotland, where we travelled for a friend's wedding. Our Scottish excursion on this trip also saw us spending an hour in Lancaster and a night in Glasgow, where we were able to see one of my former housemates and her family over a luxurious but too-brief breakfast.

Here we are in our wedding garb:

The wedding was brief but lovely, and the reception was small and filled with laughter. We sat at one of two tables with children, so I've withheld any photographs of our tablemates, but it was a very pretty table, and the fine people at Rosslea Hall also gave the children small entertainment packets that contained crayons, colouring pages, and some of the hardest word games ever invented (the six adults at our table, working together, were unable to solve the crossword puzzle).

We dashed from the reception to the train station, and after catching our Helensburgh train, we went back to Glasgow and caught an overnight bus to London, where we met up with I.'s brother J. As an aside, I don't recommend the overnight bus for anyone who is not a very sound sleeper and a very cold sleeper. It was perhaps the second-hottest sleep of my life.

We took J. to some of our favourite London destinations, including the British Library (not pictured, because I'm sure anyone who reads this blog faithfully is sick of photos of the great BL by now), the British Museum, and the South Bank of the Thames, which we walked along for a while. J. was particularly interested in the South Bank book stall, which has been a staple of our London trips for about as long as I can remember.

We eventually stopped for coffee in the cafe at the Tate Modern, partly because it was raining and mostly because I really love the view from the cafe (not pictured). While we were upstairs, some ambitious people tried to make bubbles on the riverbank, and a few of these survived briefly, although the small children in attendance seemed to think that bubbles only existed to be popped.

We also had live musical entertainment (though I confess I was so distracted by the pretty bubbles that I couldn't tell you whether these guys were any good at all) and a beautiful view of St. Paul's.

London was a bit of a whirlwind, but a fun one, and after a nice dinner and breakfast with J. and a morning spent navigating various busses around Regent's Park, I. and I headed back to Sheffield to pack, clean, and visit our church again. My packing was rather immediate, as I spent only the Sunday and Monday at home, and was off to destinations unknown on the Tuesday.

Locally, I spent most of Tuesday transcribing records in beautiful Chatsworth House in Darbyshire. It is still the home of the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire, and is located in the heart of the Peak District, hence the beautiful hills that suround it.

I took a photograph of the house itself, but it was snapped from a moving bus and really doesn't do the building any justice. The house itself contains a stunning library and some glorious old rooms, and the gardens are beautiful as well; I spent most of my time in the archives, which were fabulous.

From Chatsworth, I met up with my beloved husband in nearby Chesterfield (of the twisted spire) for a pub dinner, then hopped on a train to London for the next leg of my adventure (which merits its own blog post).