Entry 7- Norwich: The Land of Quaintness and Damp Clothing

    My gracious followers, I apologize for the delay as soon I will explain why. First of all, I am safely in Norwich, and moved into my "accommodation". Things are a bit smaller then imagined and somebody needs to talk to the architecture students here because their drawing of "ample" living space was a bit off. That, or ample has a different meaning in England. I will not lie, and say that all is fair and grand here in the land of over 300 pubs (that is Norwich alone, not England, and it is in no way my desire to find all 300 as some brave souls have set out to do). Seriously, there is an old quote that says Norwich used to have a pub for every day of the year. Times are hard however, and now you might have to go to the same pub... once or twice.
     The transition here was quite tough to be honest, and I am still adjusting to things. As expected, culture shock set in about 24 hours of actually being in Norwich and I desperately wanted to reverse course and set sail towards port of origin. London and I had a certain kinship, a big city like San Francisco, people in suits, tourists everywhere. Yet, as my father wisely stated, not many people tell you "Hey, I'm going to England, but even better, I'm going to Norwich". Norwich is best described by brochures and locals as quaint. It is one of the safest cities in London, and has I high population retention rate. That is because older folks (and old souls alike), tend to come here for a quiet, comfortable lifestyle... and never leave because they leave this earth first. So obviously if you never leave, and just kick the bucket here, all remains quaint.
  
   Things are different here, being that I am in a different country in all, and I have had to rely intensely on the comfort the Lord to see each day as a blessing. It is hard when you get to a new place, especially a new country to see the things here as what they are instead of thinking about the things from home that are not here. The food for one is quite different and cooking here is like being forced to do your business near a cactus on the side of Mexico's Highways 1, with truckers passing by. Even though it is natural and necessary at that moment, it is still a very uncomfortable thing to go through. I know in time that will change (not doing my business next to the Mexican Highway, that will always be weird) but all the little things will get easier. Life just happens to be a roller coaster right now.
  To get that unsightly image out of your heads, let me tell you about the weather. Norwich is supposedly one of the driest cities in England, in one of the driest counties, so when people said, "Oh it doesn't rain here that often", I assumed that it didn't. Well you know what they say about assuming things. It would be like to tell someone, "Yeah, well it isn't that sunny very often in Laguna Beach anyway so, it's no big deal".... Basically "often" like "ample" has a different meaning here. It is sunny all the time in Laguna, and it rains all the time here. Driest city, yeah right. It isn't a hard rain either, it is this slow, weeping rain that gradually gets you wet, and leaves you damp for hours. However, everything is really green here, and on the first sunny day (so in May), I will post some pictures of the campus. Seriously though, as soon as the rain lets up, I will post some pictures of campus which does have some beautiful features.
  
   So as I rant (as slightly complain) I must say this, things are beginning to look up. Travel plans have started to come together, and I am trusting God that this is where I am supposed to be, or else, I wouldn't be here. Shout outs to all you who have been praying for me, they have helped beyond measure. I am looking forward to getting my bearings and having a wonderful time here in England, and quaint little Norwich. Much love, and though seas have been rough, The Pirate Crew sails on.

Another Classic Day...

(By the way, the people in the foreground.... They're with me, long lost family members.)

Entry 6- Churchill Catwalks The Pope-Mobile On A Bike

To say that yesterday was a full day would be considered by most, an understatement. This post may be a little long, but it will be well worth the read... and the watching. "Did he just say what I think he said?". Yes I did, there is a special video clip this post for you special followers of mine.

   My day started out fairly mellow, a bit of a snoozer, some porridge for breakfast, and the world news. I'm still watching the "Fox and Friends" World Channel, because I just haven't tuned my ears yet to hearing the news in English accents. The phrase "over in America today", still gets me every time. As the news finished up, Paul Voge got home and we decided to head into the heart of London so I could see some of the classic sights, and we heard some guy name The Pope was going to be in town. First however, I needed to get a British cell phone, or "mobile" (pronounced mow-bile; This will now be a running series called Talking British With Paul Hester. You can thank me later for protecting you from looking like a goober when you come to England sometime). I am three steps from the store front when a nice young English girl stops me and asks, no begs, no she pleads with me to be part of Blackberry's new marketing campaign for London Fashion Week, called London Fashion Catwalk. Basically they film you walking down a catwalk, and superimpose a crowd around you, tell you a bit about their new phone, and put the video on their website. Naturally I felt I had to help these people out and show them how to work a catwalk. After my stint as a model in Milan I felt it was the least i could do. So without further ado, here is Paul Hester: London Fashion Catwalk 2010 (or Michael Marsden: Fashion Catwalk 2010. That's my catwalk name... actually they just labeled my name wrong). http://www.londonfashioncatwalk.com/catwalk-videos/29-b1041.html.

   I sincerely hope you all enjoyed that, people usually pay for that kind of entertainment. If you have any question about future bookings, or wonder how I get my hair like that, call my agent and First Mate, B.W. Hester. Well, enough about my model life. I got the phone, and we were off. Here in London there is a system called Barclays Bikes. You place a small key-like transponder into a little slot, the light turns green, and you take your bike. Then when you are done, you just dock it at any Barclays Bike station in the city; simply brilliant. With Barclays Bikes under out feet, our first stop was the outside of Buckingham Palace. Paul Voge figured Fleet Admirals Stephen and Loretta Hester aka Dad and Mom would enjoy some classic, some might say "cliche" photos, of their son in front of London landmarks. Paul Voge happens to be an expert in where these shots are taken, so that became another priority of the day.  Forgive my squinting, it was a lovely day in London, even a bit bright and warm at times. From Lizzie's house we continued on to downtown and decided it was worth our while to visit the Churchill War Rooms Museum. I love history, it is actually part of my official studies at school, so this was right up my alley. It was truly amazing to see the tiny, underground space where Churchill stood his ground while Hitler was planning to cross the North Sea and invade Great Britain. There is a six foot thick slab of concrete over most of the war rooms, and could withstand the impact from a 500 lb. bomb. Paul Voge hammed it up with some of the mannequins as seen below. Inside the War Rooms they have the closet that contained
the first direct hotline to the United States President. Many of the rooms were locked and left alone from the day the war ended in 1945 until the rooms were reopened in 1971, so they look exactly as they did when they were in operation. An officer's sugar ration was even found tucked in an envelop, and hidden in his desk drawer, pretty rad stuff if you ask me! From the Churchill War Rooms we headed down to Trafalgar Square where there was many an opportunity for solid photos.

     Many of you have probably seen picture of people sitting on giant lions (which I have begun to believe are the national cat of England), well those lions are in Trafalgar Square, so true to my word, here are a few pictures...

Lions... and Lions, and.... They're All Lions Here. No Tigers. No Bears

That little girl screamed really loud, and I'm trying to get some croissant out of my teeth.

Well, it was about time to do what we had planned or all day; See the Pope and his trusty Pope-Mobile. There was already a large crowd of people had already amassed, get it... mass. Anyways, there were people everywhere, waiting for the leader of the Catholics to emerge from Parliament Building. Guys were selling Pope flags (P.Voge bought one; Such a character haha), Pope t-shirts, Pope hats, buttons, the whole nine yards. Kind of sacrilegious now that I think about it, making a buck off the Pope. You see, Parliament Building is right across from Westminster Abbey, as in like less than 100 yards, but all these people came out to see him drive from one side of the street to another, this guy has quite the pull. Well, Mr. Pope emerged at 6:00 sharp, in his holy robe, and highly guarded Pope Mobile. If not for my long arms, I would have never gotten a picture, but here he is... The leader of the Catholics, Ruler of Vatican City, White Robe White Hair White Soul... It's THE POPE!!!!!

(click to make it big, you can see El Poperino better)

That is all I have for now my peeps. I will write again soon. But I must leave you with one last image. Maybe the most cliche image of all, but I had to do it, and I know there are many who will come to cherish this picture, heck it may even become a running theme. I give unto thee, and leave thee with...

The Red Telephone Booth

Sailing In Circles, But Enjoying The Breeze.

Entry 5- Albe, Peter, and Diana stand still, while the Gunners prevail.

So yesterday concluded my first full day in England. It was an incredibly fun day. I got a full nights rest before, which was nice, and needed, but still woke up at 8:30, early by my standards. However, I did go to bed at 9:30 the night before, so full of rest I was. I would even go as far to say that I am more or less living 8 hours ahead of my previous life. Anyways, I wanted to get a jump on the day, so I grabbed a water and a banana, and headed of to Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park. I love the way Kensington Gardens sounds when you say it... so regal. Paul Voge took me on a quick whirlwind tour the day before, but I wanted to spend some time taking photos and letting the wind take me wherever it pleased, and it was a rather blustery (pronounced rava bluss-tree) day, so I was headed a lot of places. I did stumble upon Prince Albert Memorial. Prince Albert was apparently an oversized gold man with exquisite facial hair (see fig.1). The English really like their statues, and Prince Albert is no exception... this thing is huge! Even the small statues around the big memorial are massive in size. I said my good byes to Albe and moved on, as I felt we were growing to attached to one another.

   My next adventure was to find Peter Pan. The English put up a sign whenever they can, so finding Peter was not very hard. On the way I did find the Italian Fountains, which in their heyday, I'm sure were the fountains to see, but you wouldn't exactly put them toe to toe with the Bellagio these days. Peter is pictured full size below as I figured the statue was famous enough to earn its own post on your's truly's blog. I continued my meandering near Peter and the little river-lake he gazes upon when I was engulfed by a large pack of high schoolers. I found this an excellent chance to observe a new breed of highus schoolius studantes, of the Italian-maximus species. After a few short moments however, I realized that Italian high school students fare no different than American ones; The girls take loads of pictures, and the guys get bored, try to act cool, and begin throwing rocks at the ducks.
   Thus my journey continued and I found myself at Kensington Palace, which is more like a mansion than what you would call a "palace", but royal it seemed nonetheless. Anything in London that seems larger than average screams royalty, kind of like big hats and bbq screams Texas. There is a small restaurant behind Kensington Palace called The Orangery and it serves high tea. I thought "This is it, my first change to have high tea in England...". However, after looking at the prices, I decided high tea could wait, for buying tea in Kensington Gardens is like buying a cookie at Disneyland; The price includes the location. Maybe another time. Walking back to the Voge residence and through Kensington Gardens you realize that these people really love Princess Diana. She has like five statues, three lakes, two fountains, and a host of other trinkets in Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. However, not one of them bears her image or likeness in any form whatsoever, they just really love her. Also, every swan in England belongs to the Queen. Therefore, if someone catches you take or kill a swan, they send you to prison for some ridiculous amount of time for swan swiping.

  
   Paul Voge arrived home shortly after I did, and informed that Mr. Bill Voge had gotten us tickets to the Arsenal game. Now, it has been a goal of mine for quite some time now to go to a "football" game in England, as well as to go to an Arsenal game. Tickets are hard to come by as they are a top four team, and last night was their first Champions League game. Not only did Bill get us tickets, he got us amazing tickets... in the club section, with a free dinner included. The dinner happened to be a massive delicious buffet before the game, and free tea at the half. Unlike American sports, the closer you are to the field (pitch) the cheaper the tickets are. We were in the middle balcony section, right beneath the boxes, so like I said AMAZING seats. Now, I must elaborate on the game itself. Arsenal came out strong, and it was soon apparent that SC Braga was going to have a hard time keeping up with the Gunners (Arsenal's nickname, and fans are called Gooners). Arsenal won 6-0 (six nill as they would say here), and six goals is pretty unprecedented in a single game, let alone six nill. And now, the real reason I tell you all this... the fans are insane. You have men in business suits, five year old kids shouting the songs and clapping along, and the occasional woman shouting profanities at both teams. As for the songs, the stadium is always loud, everybody is shouting and talking, because somebody just did something incredible (lovely ball) or absolutely idiotic (bloody geezer). The same player can be a hero and a fool in the same minute. Then everyone starts clapping and singing. Most of the songs are pretty simple as the hammered guys need to be able to sing along as well, however there were a few I could not make out... and everybody knows the words... everybody. They put all the visiting fans in the same section for their own safety. I'm dead serious, if you were not an Arsenal fan in the Arsenal section, which happens to be the whole stadium minus the tiny visiting section, they'd kill you. Even though they were losing they still kept shouting and singing for their team. It was an electric atmosphere. The total attendance was 59,333 people, maybe 80 were there for SC Braga, so you can imaging the noise when the Gunners scored... six times.
  
   My night ended with a delightful skype session with Becca, and today I slept in a bit which felt wonderful. That is all for now, a lot I know, but I had explain the first real day in detail. I leave you with the statue of Physical Energy, made to represent man's conquering of physical world. Now I must go conquer Kensington High Street and get myself a British phone card.
Sailing true... The Pirate Crew.

One of My Favorite Literary Characters

Entry 4- I think we should see other countries America...

Well, this is it, the final post from American shores for a while. America and I have had this ongoing relationship for quite some time now, and we both figured it was healthy to take a break. England has been calling me incessantly over the past few months, and I figured I should finally take her up on the offer of a place to stay for a year. I am excited, nervous, and ready for whatever may come my way. Grandma June told me today, "Don't let the grass grow beneath your feet.". I feel those are the most perfect words to send me off on this journey. Anchor has been weighed, the wind is at our backs, and the sun upon our faces, for the Pirate Crew has truly set sail. Next stop... England!

Reducing my amount of Public Indecency for the year...

The Second Suitcase

Entry 3- Provisions Packed Tight

For some reason, I still feel the need to relate everything to the nautical world in some way. I guess as I am about to embark on a voyage of my own, I think of myself as a voyager of old, and I plan to spend a good majority of my time in the liquid realm that surrounds us. Anywhooooooooo, quite some time ago the study abroad folks let us in on the little known secret that you are only allowed two suitcases. Big deal right? You can fit a lot of stuff into two suitcases, however, every girl in the room at that time seemed to stop breathing. Even a few of the guys did, and we wondered what in the world could they miss so much that it wouldn't fit into two costco sized "luggage crates", because that's what they really are. Instantly my mind started figuring out what I couldn't leave behind for a year... surfboards. Europe gets some phenomenal surf, and I was not about to miss out on it because of a two suitcase rule. So right then and there my second suitcase became a 10'6" double longboard bag (my priorities are obviously in the right place). It is now filled with three boards, two wetsuits, a pair of booties, a one mill. hooded rashguard, cold water wax, some leashes, a vital ding repair kit, and three jackets(as they have proven themselves as excellent protection for boards). That left me with one "luggage crate" to fit all my clothes in.
    So, I made a list of what I considered necessary clothing for a year in England. Being from Southern California, a year of mostly rainy/wet cold weather doesn't exactly fit the clothes you own. So in went what I believe will keep me warm, and semi-dry for the next year. I'm not sure if it was the list, or the fact that I only seem to own t-shirts and jeans, but everything fit smashingly in a single suitcase that could easily house a set of newborn quintuplets.
    While packing my board bag, and suitcase, I almost forgot that I am going to school. I have to get that thought back in my head. After finishing the school year in May, spending July in school again, I kind of shut it off for the past 6 weeks, but I'm sure because of summer school I never really got it out of my system and the muscle memory of school will return shortly. Basically, I'm trying to say that I'm super mentally buff and tan for this school year, as I already conquered an intense summer school workout.

    Well, The Pirate Crew is packed and ready to get shacked... and get our brain buff on. The final farewells have begun and we sets sail in three days.

Entry 2- The Countdown

In exactly seven days from this very moment I will be on a plane headed to England. The suitcases are now open, and the clothes that will prevent public indecency, or try, for the next year are being daintily packed. I don't really know how to pack for a year in England, all I know is that I want to be warm, so we are going to run with that notion for the time being. The people at Surfboard Warehouse are taking their sweet time getting my new board bag to me, and as it is doubling as my second suitcase, things need to happen pronto. Stay fixed, for the ship is being loaded, and we are to weigh anchor very shortly...