Hemel Hempsted 20 Miler

In our last long run, pre-marathon, Chuck, Rosa and I headed to the bourgeious town of Hemel Hempsted in greater Hertfordshire to complete a whopping 20-mile run. There's something about running 20 miles before one pm that makes you feel accomplished. Like, whatever else you do in the day doesn't matter. You win. Regardless of what the question is, you win.

Rosa had run a shorter version of the course in previous weeks and prepared us for the worst--immense uphill stretches, a muddy section on the canal and unmanned wilderness. With that in mind, I prepared for the run a whole three days in advance. This involved not just extreme carb loading and laying off the alcohol but also thinking positively, dreaming positively and believing positively. For me, running is 120% mental, and I'm really good at psyching myself out.

The morning of the run, the sky began spitting down its anger on us. Chuck kept spirits high by joking and telling us that this race would be the most difficult--the marathon would be a breeze after an uphill, unsupported course. In hindsight, he was wrong, but i'll get to that a few entries down the line.

I aimed for a finish time of 3:30:00. Chuck started ahead of us, in the faster pace group and we never saw him during the race. Rosa and I stuck behind, in the slower but not slowest pace group and began to play a series of word association and 'I spy' games. Before we realised it, 10 miles had gone and we were going strong. The uphills were immense--not short little bursts, but slow, steady up, up, ups. We conquered the first three together.


In the middle of one of the nature parks, three giant adult deer leapt well across the road directly in front of us. that kind of stuff doesn't happen in London. And then somewhere between mile 14 and 15 as we were heading up yet another uphill, I made a friend, increased my pace and forged ahead.

I clearly remember running up a tiny country lane with the apple blossoms raining down, sun finally peeking through the clouds and thinking, yes, i can do this. i can run. I crossed the finish line in 3:17:24, which put me in contention to finish London in under four and a half hours. Elation! Pure elation!
despite the face, Rosa had a good run too. Thus, we spent the rest of the day passed out in the garden of a pub in Hemel grateful that the run did not to kill any of us.

London Delight!

I tend to overlook the fact that I live in one of the world's most cosmopolitan cities. And seeing as I've lived here for nearly five years now, I also tend to err on the side of arrogance like i've seen it all. I haven't, and thus I aim to rectify this negative attitude.

Don't get me wrong, I do take advantage of the myriad cultural opportunities--theatre and musical performances, weird art installations housed in quirky buildings off the Southbank, etc. I also drink a lot of coffee. But I guess you can't take pictures of that kind of stuff.

But you can take pictures of boat rides and trips to the London Zoo, two experiences that 2011 has dropped on my feet. Both experiences involved Paul, the kidney-challenged all-around lovely man-boy who, for some reason, has taken a shine to me.
For his birthday, I took Paul on a Thames Rib Boat Voyage up to the Thames Barrier and back. This involved 15-passengers, one tour guide and a boat captain with a need for cheap thrills. We hit top speeds of 60mph, zigzagging back and forth for 90 minutes all the way up to a bit of london i've never seen. It would've been amazing had I not: 1. needed to pee so badly for the best part of 75 minutes 2. had to deal with setting up a television contract with the wind whipping down my phone

So the Thames Barrier keeps the city of London from flooding and having all the bankers wash away. The process of how this works was explained to us, but I couldn't really hear/concentrate.
I just kept on imagining how the barrier resembled an alien spaceship.

It was pretty cool to see all the factories on the sides of the riverbank though; London's rise to the centre of empire and trade became clear and seeing where Sainsbury's, John Lewis, et al loads their trucks to deliver their products made the whole supply chain come to life. Yes, i know i am a loser.

Then, a few weekends later we went to.the.zoo! I didn't realise my love for the zoo until the penguins waddled their way around one pond or another. And then I was totally smitten. who needs children when you could have a penguin for a pet?
sideways:0(


and if that weren't enough, there's the giraffes! I think, not so secretly, i'm jealous of their height. But honestly, they don't look like they should be able to stand upright. All those vertebrae. woah


and i'm always impressed by the health and safety signage built up for the thousands of less than intelligent people who say things to their three-year-olds like 'okay baby, stand just a little closer, okay baby, put your hand right next to that gorilla's mouth. no baby, just a little closer, closer'.

fierce

Thames Rib Voyage. London Zoo. Four enthusiastic thumbs up.

Riga--part two

I have yet to mention how friendly, gorgeous and hospitable the Latvians we met were. Maybe it goes without saying, perhaps everyone knows this. But from people on the street to the hippies running our hostel, people went out of their way to show us what a cool place Riga was.

We sought recommendations; we got names of tea houses, indie bookshops and (well, to be fair) mediocre restaurants, though i fear this had more to do with the cuisine and being a budget traveller.

Rosa and I took those recommendations on the run and honed our technique of ten minutes of walking before ducking inside to fill ourselves to the brim with hot liquids before braving the elements yet again.

We started simply enough in the old town and wended around past the Freedom Monument and into the new town part of the city, which felt a lot like the big avenue blocks of Budapest.

in Cafe Amelie

The House of the Black Cat--according to wikitravel, this building has lore and legend attached: 'The legend has it that a disgruntled tradesman who was not accepted into the Big Guild, built this house and put the cats on it with their tails pointing towards the Big Guild, thus expressing his scorn.'

The Freedom Monument, sectioning the old town from the new and national symbol
The Opera House walking towards new town
We fettered away at least three hours in Aspara Tea House--treehouse style, cushions and beautiful views=a formula for no one ever wanting to leave


We ended our trip by drinking copious amounts of cheap wine in a cave and then acting like 19-year-olds with various 19-year-olds staying in our hostel. There was walking in the cold, followed by dancing followed by more drinking followed by a journey home to the hostel where eleven louder than ridiculous spaniards overtook our hostel room, banging and poking around at 5am. Result: i am too old for hostels.

The next morning we survived a bus ticket inspection and made it to the airport arriving back in London to, for the first time, markedly better weather. Despite this, a return to the Baltic States is immiment. But not Helsinki.

Riga--part one

After I managed to work my logistical magic and procure us three tickets on the 2pm bus from tallinn to riga, derryn, rosa and I had a fourish hour ride punctuated by beautiful country scenery, great naps and bad foreign snack foods. We arrived, in the dark, to riga at roughly 7:30pm with no clue as to where we were.

The good news though, temperatures were going up: -19c!

We called the day mostly a write off, hit up the cash machine, ate dinner and promptly fell asleep in our hostel room made for 15. The next morning, Rosa and I layered Derryn under a pile of blankets and hit the town. And what a town it was.

Statue of Roland, though i'm not 100% certain who Roland really is
The House of Blackheads in Riga's central square--once home to all the merchants' guild
i am beginning to notice a theme of largescale vast emptiness in all of these photos...

bad hair aside, this fish head served us the final bill
brunch--pumpkin tartlets and beer. it's never too early for beer on holiday, right?

lots of colourful buildings

hat! snood! ice!
The inside is as dark and depressing as the outside, really a metaphoric victory to aesthetics. However, the museum was free and outlined the history of Latvian occupation from WW1 to present. Rosa and I spent the best part of two hours learning about Latvia's role in the USSR's powerstruggle. It was informative, interesting and really very sad.
The Three Brothers--(though you can only see two) are the oldest houses in Riga

More to come!

Tallinn

Tallinn happened to be about just as cold as Helsinki, which is really no surprise; the city sits roughly 50 miles across the sea from its Scandinavian cousin. But for whatever reason, it felt delightfully tropical. Okay, well that's a lie, but I think the cobbled narrower streets of the city centre did a better job at preserving the little warmth that lingered in the February air.

And first glimpses did not disappoint. From snowy rooftops to onion-domed churches, we were a little bit more than enchanted.





And everyone knows that the first thing you do upon arrival in an Estonian city is to eat...greek food. It's all we could find, honest. We sat by the fire place, we ate and then Derryn sauntered back to our boutique hotel (discount!) and Rosa and I proceeded to comb the city for old books and USSR memorabilia.

We ended up finding one garlic(!) restaurant, one snood(!), an irish pub and the Estonian answer to the German beer hall. We may have also been the butt of a group of Russian schoolchildren's jokes, but when your body parts are mostly frozen, humiliation doesn't feel like anything.

where has this place been all my life?

a little bit like paris?
in the cobbled nooks and crannies off a side road

I think this photo aptly captures the nature of the cobbles and the ice. Apparently, residents of this part of the world spend four months sliding around on ice covered pavements. It was a health and safety inspector's worst nightmare.
Estonians are big on their tea houses and cafes. This one was chocolate themed. If you ever wondered if chocolate could be a successful theme, let me set the record straight. Yes.

in the central square
with frostbite to the brain
still four inches of flesh uncovered in the extreme cold

Before heading on the long (12 minutes in sub-zero temperatures) walk home, we fortified ourselves with larger than big beers. This happened to be the last time we saw Derryn out of bed for the rest of the trip. Which begs the question, what strange power does estonian beer really hold?

So we didn't spend much time in Estonia due to the Helsinki debacle outlined in the last two blog entries. But we managed to rectify a too short stay in Tallinn the next morning by getting very lost on the tram system and doing a delightful loop of outer, outer outer and outer outer outer Tallinn. It wasn't quite the trip to Estonia I'd imagined, but I'm hoping it's not going anywhere any time soon and i can go back.

Just not in February.