Cardiff

Yesterday I ventured to the capital of Wales: Cardiff.  I have been twice before, but not for a whole day.  The Swansea University Real Ale Society made the annual trek via train for the Cardiff University Beer Festival.  It was a blast.  When one would think of the debauchery and wickedness of a Beer Festival, let alone at a University, the actual event would likely surprise you thoroughly.  It was chilled out.  It was held in the student union building, in a room that looks like a huge cafeteria.  One wall of the large room was lined with 70 casks of delicious British brewed ales and lagers.  It was a beautiful sight.  When you picked from the gourmet list, you could go to the casks and have the staff fill your souvenir pint glass.  Then you just sit down and chill out with your friends.  That is what I did anyway.  

Furthermore, the Swansea Real Ale Society has a tradition of dressing up for the occasion in 'fancy dress.'  The theme for this year was 'what did you want to be when you grew up?'  I didn't have much in the costume department, so I donned my bow tie, shaved down to a goatee and wore a sport coat and called myself a professor.  Other members had a bit more fun with the concept.  I leave the pictures to speak for themselves (coming soon).  

I must say that it has been a bit of a rough week.  I was very ill on Monday, but Sophia took the opportunity to give her maternal instincts a go.  She came by and gave me Sprite and some food.  She is a good girlfriend.  She's probably going to read this, maybe I'll get some points for it.  

Peerman is coming this afternoon via plane and train.  Should be just in time to go to the weekly Real Ale meeting, this time at the Railway again.  I am going to see if the brewer there will let us have a tour and maybe a job.  That would be a good thing, we'll see though.  I got some more good news, too.  I may or may not have some of my writing in the Wabash Magazine.  Either way, they already paid me, so it is a win/win.  If they don't, I'll just post the entry on here.  It was about the inspirational trip to Capriole Goat Cheese Farm.  Trust me, it was inspirational.  

Jay is heading our way tomorrow evening too, so the fun will likely be high in supply.  I hope to head up to a castle that my Dad recommended via one of his colleagues.  Should be a good time.  I'll keep you posted. 

A Small World After All

Valentine’s Day was fun.  Sophia and I found a very nice Indian restaurant, well maybe Bangladeshi, but it was still really good.  It is called the Viceroy.  For a set price they bring a series of dishes and curries for your meal, and it was delicious.  I am not sure what most of what I ate was, but I liked it all, except this sort of pumpkin or squash concoction.  The prawns (shrimp to we Americans) were tasty and not too rubbery, which is often the case in many of the restaurants I have found.  The service was quick and precise, and it wasn’t too taxing on the wallet.  I insist that the rose they gave Sophia was of my own instruction and wasn’t just a Valentine’s special, but she doesn’t believe me.  Just because all the other women received one is hardly evidence. 

On a different note, a trip to Mumbles made Saturday more eventful than normal.  Mumbles, you may be asking, is a town west of the city of Swansea, still on the sea, and not even that far, indeed only about 3 miles.  We walked the way there, and the seaside wind was brisk and chilly.  We did not wear coats, a mistake I take full credit for.  But once we arrived, finding a restaurant and warmth was a top priority.  Settling on “La Casa Nostra” was one of the best decisions of the trip yet. 

We saw the menu in the window and the prices were very agreeable.  More so than most of the places we have seen, and it was Italian.  Anything but Fish ‘n’ Chips for a while.  A waiter popped his head out of the door to greet us, and it was all uphill from there.  We essentially had the place to ourselves.  Another family was heading out when we arrived and on our departure another arriving, and it was awesome.  The menu offered many a pasta dish, appetizers, and lots of drinks. 

I had a severe hankering for some calamari, which was satiated with a delicious platter quickly brought from the kitchen.  It was very tender and not at all over cooked.  The batter was not over-spiced either, which let the subtlety of the young squid come through.  It was also served without a sauce, which was new for me.  I liked it though. 

I asked for help from the waiter discerning what I ought order.  I was very curious about the Pasta Mediterreana, featuring prawns, squid, and mussels.  He said it was good, but it is always tricky recommending dishes, but I assured him I would place no blame on his judgment.  It was then that we learned a great fact of our waiter.  When I asked if he was from Italy, it turned out I was close, but not quite far enough east.  This fellow was born in Greece.  Sophia’s face lit up, and I immediately pointed out that she too, was of similar of heritage. 

After many sentences and exchanges that are well beyond my rudimentary understanding of the language (I can successfully name 3 parts of the human face, not to mention hello, thank-you, and you’re welcome) it was determined that Dimitri’s village was no more than 6 kilometres from Sophia’s mother’s.  Wow.  What a coincidence.  I decided this was certainly an instance of Divine intervention and this was to become my new favorite restaurant.  Thankfully, the pasta was equally amazing, and will certainly warrant our prompt return. 

Sophia couldn’t wait to call her mother and tell her the news.  This resulted in my listening in many more minutes of Greek, which may someday result in my learning the language through pure constant exposure.  I hope so.  

Make sure to check out new photos

http://picasaweb.google.com/RossDMcKinney

"Stonehenge Rocks!"--popular Stonehenge t-shirt saying

We left at 8 in the morning. We were told to anticipate a long drive and not many opportunities for food. So I brought some banana bread. I was at the little convenience store that is roughly 200 feet from my room and they had several bunches of old bananas for free. I don’t know about you, but even when something seems old or useless, free is hard to leave behind. Naturally I grabbed 3 bunches. I bought flour and baking soda and vanilla and all the other stuff I needed to make the bread. Let me assure you that making banana bread with one ceramic bowl that also served as the actual baking vessel and no whisks, spoons, or measuring devices is no easy feat.

Anyway, the banana bread was a hit on the way to Avebury. The girls were heartily impressed. I have requests for future loaves already. To the trip though: Avebury and Stonehenge. Surely you have all heard of the latter, but I found the former to be far more interesting. Avebury is actually the largest stone circle in the world. It is over a mile in circumference with a series of concentric layers. The stones vary in size, and indeed many are missing. The guide kept going on about the mystical powers of the place, which was very interesting. The area, they have found, has very high amounts of magnetic energy. It is speculated that the ancients, some 5,000 years ago used the area to cure and help abate arthritis. The magnetism supposedly helps, so if it ails you, Avebury is very pretty and has a couple of pubs and a lovely church and village.

Sophia was ecstatic about the whole thing, after all, she wants to be an archaeologist. She wanted to see everything and walked faster than I have ever seen her walk. It is usually me that has to look back and wait, but the role reversal was fun and to me, funny. I was interested in stopping to see a pub and talk to some natives, she wanted to go see the churchyard. We split up for a while to satiate our different thirsts, mine of course quite a literal one. I even ordered a goat cheese dish with my ale, and fortunately the cheese was the saving grace of the Lionsgate Pub in Avesbury. The ale was way too hopped and bitter for its own good, and its head was more similar to bathwater foam than the creamy froth I have grown to know and love here. The cheese, battered and fried, was served with pineapple chutney, which really helped because the cheese was quite fresh and ‘goaty.’ A good experience in Avebury, I would say.

We all climbed aboard the charter bus to travel the 45 minutes to Salisbury, the home of the famous Stonehenge. From the first glimpse from the bus, I was surprised at how small it was. Don’t get me wrong, the stones were very big, and at closer inspection in fact huge. However, the size of the circles in which they were arranged was much smaller than I anticipated. The audio devices told of the various stages in the development and use of the henge, but getting close to the stones proved impossible. Ropes and a few guards kept us at least 20 feet from the stones themselves. This still permitted quite a few good pictures, but I had no idea how popular the attraction was. Hundreds of people aside from the 50 students on my particular trip were there, slowly milling about the circumference of the ancient site. In typical fashion, there was a herd of sheep in the pasture directly across the site too. The tour around was fun, but short. We then walked to the barrows. They are huge mounds of earth with one person underneath it all. There is actually stone structure to each of them, they occasionally excavate one at a time. They find daggers, gold earrings, shields, clothing, and all sorts of ancient goods in the tombs. Pretty cool. It was fun to see kite flyers and kids running around, though they were somewhat loud and obnoxious for the “polite English” I was told to expect. Unruly little boys, it seems, are not limited to my house alone, despite my mother’s rants to the contrary from my youth. Ha.

Real Ale Pals

I would first like to thank my readers. I have been reading all of the comments, and I appreciate them all. Please leave more, feedback is good. I also appreciate those who take the little time to visit the sites of my sponsors above. Don’t forget, the more help you give me, the more I can go out and afford various adventures to blog about. It is a winning situation for us all.

I recently posted new pictures of my trip to Bath:http://picasaweb.google.com/RossDMcKinney/BathJanuary262008

And an evening on the beach right across the street from the University campus: http://picasaweb.google.com/RossDMcKinney/SwanseaBayBeachWithSophia

My friends, I think I am considering another blog, this one dealing exclusively with my encounters with the many and fine pubs of good ol’ Wales. I’ll keep you posted on that too.

Today was rather uneventful, really. I had an absolutely horrible lecture in history. The lecturer was extremely hard to understand, I think she is from The Netherlands or something, definitely not somewhere where English is spoken regularly. And she reads directly from a prepared speech with little inflection or audience engagement. Trying to learn about the Ottoman Empire with names like Suleiman the Magnificent is hard enough without a language/acoustic barrier. She promised lecture notes online though, so hip-hip-hooray.

I think I want to go to Constantinople or somewhere exotic though. Somewhere where my dollar will buy me more than a small bag of potato chips (crisps over here). Maybe Northern Africa. Peerman will go with me, I’ll be sure to avoid looking quite as foolish with him around. He’ll take care of that department.

Yesternight was another Real Ale Society meeting, a true gem of a time, too. Gwyn went with me, this time to the Queens Hotel, near the marina. To be honest, I didn’t enjoy the bitter I had too much, I only tried it and luckily didn’t have to pay for the whole pint. I did however enjoy the distinct privilege of many a pint of “Old Peculiar.” The gents of the society, who I am getting to know very well and enjoy the company of, spoke very highly of it. One went as far as to claim that “it is consistently the best ale around.” And it was very delicious. It was dark, but didn’t have the bitter/acrid taste often accompanied by the heavily roasted malt that gives dark ales their color and taste. It was smooth and had a great mouthfeel. The finish wasn’t too longlasting, but it did give a nice end to the satisfying sip.

Gwyn and I stayed and talked to the guys for a very long time, so long in fact that we were required to walk back to campus as the bus service had ended for the night. It was worth it though. My new English and Welsh mates are teaching me a lot about the culture and how we Yanks often have got it all wrong.

Some sample items of discussion:
How American Football players are hardly athletes due to their ridiculous amount of resting time between plays.

How Rugby is far manlier, due to the constant running and non-stop action, complete with just as much hitting and virtually no helmets or other protections.

Whether Bare-ick or Mrs. Clinton is more suitable for the job.

The peculiar pronunciation of the numbers 7 and 11 by a Welsh member of the society: sort of like Ss-heh-ven and Ee-hleh-ven.

These guys are great. They laugh a lot and know how to have a good yet reasonably responsible time. More on that later, I’m sure. Oh, and Stonehenge tomorrow. That just leaves crop circles, Loch Ness, and Bigfoot on my list.

The Real Ale Society

Friends, I must offer my distinct apologies for not sooner writing. Class, it seems, is a necessary evil of this whole “studying” abroad process.

But my adventures have been growing in number and fun levels while here in Swansea. I have become an official member of the Swasea University Real Ale Society. For those not in the know, a real ale is this: a traditional ale served from the same container from which it was fermented. This means no extraneous carbon dioxide is used, only the natural carbonation from the still live yeast in the firkins, from which this blog is named. A firkin is really a measurement, but it is commonly associated with a 9-gallon barrel or cask. This means the ale is kept in the cellar and must be hand pumped from the cool depths to one’s pint glass.

The Society meets on Thursdays, and I am verily due for another meeting on this very eve. Last Thursday, the e-mail called for a meeting at “a particularly nice haunt” called the Railway at Killay. The pub was certainly a house at one time, due to the small rooms and setup. It advertised a ‘live fire’ in a fireplace, and several local real ales. Upon entering the ‘haunt,’ I was met with the glances of many an old man. They were sitting around the perimeter of a small room, and all with pint glasses in hand. I had to walk past them to another long hall where the rest of the society was. About 15 chaps and 2 ladies were present at the meeting, and it was soon underway. I asked for a recommendation from the president. He then called to middle aged gent, grey and balding, with the exception of his impressive and prodigious sideburns, who turned out to be the brewer of half of the ales tapped that evening. “What ought the gent from America try first?”

“I should think he ought to try a beer, hmm?” he said in a loud and slightly slurred response which was met with the laughter of everyone in the pub. I could tell this was to be an interesting and fun evening.

I introduced myself to my fellow enthusiasts, explaining my role as officer and cofounder of the Wabash College Brew Society. I was welcomed to the ranks, having several discussions with the club members and the regular patrons of the pub. Hearing Tory Tom (“They call me Tory because I’m a bloody conservative, right of center you see.”) battle wits on knowledge of the Second World War, particularly in the European Theatre with an older gentleman at the pub counter was truly an amazing spectacle. Not only was he on his was to inebriated, and still going strong with pints in hand, Tory Tom could quote troop movements, the order of the D-Day beaches, many of Hitler’s sub-officers, and when they were replaced. Tory Tom claims his status as an historian proudly at University. As well he ought to be. I couldn’t tell you where Juno was in relation to Sword, much less with Omaha, Utah, and Gold in the mix as well. Now, I did know the beaches and even plan to visit them, but I was very impressed with the intellectual combat before my eyes. This and the British banter in the arguments was hilarious and intriguing.

Aside from this, I’ve been up to cooking various forms of chicken, which I plan to discuss later, due to my ingenious methods, and searching for a job. I’ll keep you posted.