Y'alright Duck?

Translation: How are you fellow Nottingham resident?

I woke up one morning and decided I wanted to take the tram to the end of the line: Hucknall. Why not? The weather was reasonably and apparently unseasonably mild.

While waiting for the bus "into town" (i.e. downtown) some youths were strolling down the street gleefully singing a made-up song with one word, "ASBO." This was an unsettling scene. The youth in this country seem to have much power over their adult counterparts. ASBOs (Antisocial Behaviour Orders) have come under fire recently because youths who receive them tend to wear them like a trophy, as was the case with these fine gentlemen I witnessed in the street. It amazes me how bullying, though something that the establishment is fiercely trying to reduce, seems to shape this culture so much. And I certainly wouldn't have the foggiest idea how to begin to understand how that could be changed. They seem to think television ads will help.

Once in town, I caught the northbound tram. The tram is an electric three-car light rail train that operates much like a subway train with stops at set platforms. Once out of the dense city area, the tram picks up speed and moves just like a regular train. Nottingham City Council has been working at developing the rapid transit system in the city for several years now, and they are now moving into phase two. The current tram line, which links the Nottingham Station just north of the River Trent to Hucknall, north of Nottingham, is just one of three lines that will eventually be installed.

Hucknall is a nice town. It's good to get out of the city even if just for an afternoon. I strolled down the High Street and noticed a lot of reference to Byron: the Byron Cinema and Bingo, statue of Lord Byron, etc. I passed by a car park (parking lot) that had midway rides set up, abandoned at the moment. Next to it sat a quaint stone church, St. Mary Magdalene. I do like exploring churchyards, if nothing else to see the dates on the gravestones. This cemetary was quite well designed and planted. While there I came upon a little paved spot with a bench and a stone book that said "Byron," with a Byron quote on the other "page." I couldn't tell if it was an actual grave. Conveniently there was a library next to the churchyard, so I popped in to google it. Sure enough, Lord Byron himself, along with his wife, and his famous daughter Ada Lovelace are entombed in the church. So, without even knowing beforehand, I accidentally stumbled upon the grave of a famous poet. Imagine that.

I stopped in a candy shop back on the High Street and got a bag of various flavoured drops: rhubarb custard, coffee and cream, strawberry, pear. The scale and density of the street, and I suppose the weather at that moment, reminded me a lot of Toronto.

On Friday I went back to Findern for the first time since I've moved to Nottingham. The Holmeses and I went to John Thompson's pub in Ingleby for lunch, something which we had planned to do before, but which circumstance had disallowed. The John Thompson Inn and Brewery is a converted 15th Century farmhouse, which has been added to over the years. It sits overlooking the Trent valley. A separate outbuilding in the car park serves as the brewhouse, complete with a professional brewmaster. I had the privelege of meeting Mr. Thompson himself. The John Thompson is the place to be for lunch on a Friday. The lunch consists of fresh shaved beef, two varieties of roast potatoes, a Yorkshire pudding, leeks and peas. We finished it off with desserts. I had the rhubarb ginger crumble, something I make at work all the time, but that I had previously never eaten. After the meal I pulled the old "go to the bathroom and pay the bill on the way back before they notice" trick. It was least I could do for them for letting me stay with them for two weeks. They were grateful but constantly reminded me of how naughty it was of me to do that.

We explored the countryside a bit more after that. They wanted to show me Foremarke Hall, a prep school on a large acreage. We couldn't drive up to it so we came around to the church and walked in through the gate. The church was quite amazing. It's very odd seeing a 17th Century solid stone church in a field in the middle of nowhere. The school's bursar was walking his dogs on the other side of the fence. After chatting a bit, and making peace, he let us through and walked us right up to the school. The palladian building is like a smaller version of some of the larger mansions around this area. Tuition at this place is something like £12,000 a year. The bursar was very friendly and invited us to come back next week for a tour of the building when the kids are off on Christmas holidays. If time allows I may just take him up on that. In conversation he asked if I knew of Suffield, Alberta. He was apparently meant to be stationed there in his army days but plans had changed.

So these little escapes from the kitchen are helping me to maintain my sanity through the busy holiday season. Next up perhaps Lincoln, Newark, Leeds, or any other locales in the shire or beyond. Next month there will be a trip to Poland. More on that later.

Cheers.