The End

I woke up at stupid o’clock this morning.  We’ve been back in the UK for four days and my body clock hasn’t quite adjusted.  Mrs G, however, is fast asleep and making her asthmatic hamster noises.  I’m sure I’ll come right soon.

The last four months has been a wonderful experience for which I am very grateful. The people are the thing I will miss most about our time in the US.  Mrs G and I made some great friends who we hope will come and stay with us some day.  Preferably not all at the same time as that could get a little crowded.   We’re hoping that we might manage to squeeze a return trip in next year.

I will also miss the food.  Who knew that peanut butter and pumpkin were so versatile?  Individually that is.  Never did find a pumpkin and peanut butter delicacy.  I’ll also miss the beer, especially as I gave up on the booze during our last two weeks there.  While my mind felt as young as the twenty-somethings I was spending time with my body took great delight in reminding me that I turn 40 next month.

At the end of my last entry I suggested that Mrs G and I might endure another meal out.  We did.  We graced The Red Lion in Stockbridge with our presence and dined on Bambi chops.  Delicious!  I had a pumpkin crème brulee for dessert which was absolutely divine.

While driving back to New Haven from Massachusetts we saw one of the most amazing sights.  The area had been hit with ice storms the previous day.  As far as the eye could see it looked like the trees were made of ice.  It was a clear, sunny day and the light reflecting off the branches made us feel like we were driving through an enchanted forest.

Our last few days in New Haven were fairly busy as we made an effort to catch up with as many people as possible before leaving.

On the Wednesday Rebekah, Ellen and Mrs G arranged a Tea Party with an open invite to all at Yale Divinity School.  There were scones with jam and freshly made clotted cream (courtesy of Rebekah), cakes, tea and cucumber sandwiches galore.  Suitably bombastic music was played: God Save The Queen, Rule Britannia, Jerusalem, and so forth and Rebekah knighted a few folk in Her Majesty’s name.  With a spoon.

On our penultimate day Alex, Jess and Marissa took us to Five Guys to experience the ultimate in American burgers.  This happened to be the day that the snow came to New Haven.  Over half a foot of it in a very short space of time.  It took us a looooong time to travel a short distance.  And when we got there it was closed.  So we turned back and went to Archie Moore’s instead where I had the same meal as on my first visit there: Grilled Pastrami Reuben.  We were joined by Almuth, Althea, Kate (and brother), Katelyn, Lani, Lauren, Stephen and Suzanna and had a very pleasant few hours eating and drinking.

We said our final goodbyes to Marissa and Suzanna the following morning and Stephen drove us to the train station.  We got to Newark Liberty International Airport with plenty of time to spare and the flight took off on time.

We arrived back in the UK around 6:30am and were met by my best mate Colin who we had managed to trick into picking us up at sparrow fart on Sunday morning.  We knew we were back in the UK as one of the first signs that greeted us in the airport gave detailed instructions of what to do if you wished to make a complaint.  The drive home took less than an hour and the first thing we did was to drink copious quantities of tea – proper English tea!

It was good to be away and it’s good to be home.

Tin or Aluminum

I’m sitting in a coffee shop called Fuel in Main Street, Great Barrington, The Berkshires, Massachusetts, enjoying a cup of Chai Tea Latte with honey while fighting off the greatest bout of Man Flu known to … er … Man.  I hasten to add (for any of my politically correct readers) that by Man I am in fact referring to those of the male gender.

Mrs G and I travelled up to The Berkshires yesterday in our “economy” hire car.  “Economy” turned out to mean a vehicle the size a small house.  The car has no hand-break and the indicators, wipers and beam are all on the same stick.  Took a bit of getting used to but it was a pretty straightforward two-hour journey through the pouring rain.

We’re here as part of our 10th wedding anniversary celebrations.  It’s quite a mind-blowing thought that I have been married to this wonderful woman for a quarter of my life.  We spent our Honeymoon in New England ten years ago: a few days in Boston followed by a few days in Jackson, New Hampshire.  While I struggle through my rising fever to keep y’all up to date Mrs G is celebrating by doing what she does best: shopping.

We managed to get a couple of days in Boston recently.  We stayed at The Bertram Inn and our room had a wonderful four-poster bed which was the size of our entire bedroom back in the UK.  A full breakfast was provided and I took great delight in making my own spicy pumpkin waffles (generously dosed with maple syrup).

We ate out at Jae’s Café and Grill both nights as it was just down the road from the Inn.  Jae’s provides authentic and cutting edge pan-asian cuisine that delights the senses (according to its website).  I have to admit that the food was most excellent.  I had Duck with Plum Sauce the first night and Hot Stone Bibim Bab with Beef the second.  The Bibim Bab was my first sampling of Korean food and proved to be a splendid choice.

Boston was much as we remembered and it was nice to just bimble about.  Ten years ago we went to the Cheers Bar, the outside of which was filmed for the exterior shots of the TV show.  Inside was completely different.  A new (additional) Cheers Bar has now been built by Quincy Market which is meant to recreate the TV bar on the inside.  In as much as this bar has a rectangular serving area in the middle and the TV bar had a rectangular serving area in the middle, they’re identical.  Other than that, not so much.  Or, in fact, not at all.

So now we’re in a different part of the State, staying in The Inn at Stockbridge (of Norman Rockwell fame).  We had a lovely meal last night at The Morgan House: New England Clam Chowder to start followed by Filet Mignon for me and Braised Pot Roast for Mrs G.  We may force ourselves to dine in style this evening.

Odds ‘n’ sods

Here, for your amusement and edification, are a few snippets that I’ve come up with to help me pass the time while I’m on the train to Boston (rated on a scale from 1 to 5 Gs):

The Big Apple

We went to New York for the Halloween Parade.  It was nice to visit places we’d only seen in the movies: Central Park; Madison Square Garden; Times Square; Broadway; Tiffany’s; 5th Avenue; Macy’s and stuff.  There were lots of yellow cabs.  We were served by someone dressed as a pimp when we went for a meal.  The parade was a bit of a let down and Mrs G nearly got crushed to death in the crowd.  I give it a rating of 2 Gs.

Corridor Party

We got back to our apartment block one evening and bumped into a few individuals we know.  Before you can say “that would be an ecumenical matter” there’s a pumpkin on Marissa’s abandoned desk (which may have been put there by me (the pumpkin that is, not the desk)) and we’re sitting around in the hall, shooting the breeze and drinking herbal tea.  Dane (of the famous “do the Dane” dance moves) produced a large bottle of whiskey which we drank from plastic cups.  One of our neighbours politely asked us if we’d mind being a little quieter (some of the people were laughing a bit too loudly – not me, obviously) and we happily complied.  A lovely impromptu time was had by all.  4 Gs.

Tailgating and football

The Yale vs Princeton match was my first (and so far only) live American Football match.  It took place on the wettest day of our visit.  Mrs G stayed home.  The folks I went with parked in a large grassy area around 11:00 and we stood under umbrellas drinking beer.  Other people had set up tarpaulins with barbecues.  The match started at 12:00 and we got in around 12:15.  Yale kicked Princeton’s arse 14 to nothing.  I missed both touchdowns (once due to beer drinking and once due to hotdog and giant soft bagel eating).  4 Gs.

Beer and Wings

Those of you privileged enough to be one of my friends on Facebook may have noticed that I regularly mention going to Archie Moore’s for Beer and Wings.  This has now become a regular Sunday evening fixture.  Around 6:30 to 7:00 we wander down and take over the large table in the back bar.  Some folk order Buffalo wings (bleuch) whereas those of us with more discerning palates have the barbecue sauce wings.  Fries and beer are also consumed in ridiculously large quantities (although not to the point of obesity and passing out I hasten to add).  There are usually at least eight of us there and sometimes the waitresses will join us if we’re still about when their shifts finish.  5 Gs.

Differences (Gs N/A)

We buy milk by the gallon and full fat has a red top.  Beer only displays the alcohol percentage if it differs from the norm (5.2%).  When driving you can turn right on a red light unless a sign advises otherwise.  All education (regardless of level) is referred to as “School”.  Nobody checks signatures on credit cards.  Staff on trains are pleasant and helpful.  Free wireless internet connections are readily available.  Patting your wife’s fanny in public will not get you arrested.

Is this the real life?

We’re currently cruising at 35,000 feet and leaving behind glorious sunshine and blue skies as we head back to New Haven where the temperature is just below freezing.  Yay.  It has been rather splendid to get away from the hard slog for a few days though and to spend some time in America’s plastic heartland.

We visited Disney World on Thursday and took in two of the four theme parks: Magic Kingdom and Disney Hollywood Studios.  As a highly sophisticated and well cultured traveller I have of course been to Disney previously (three or four times in California and once in Florida).

One of my great disappointments in life was that I never got to go on Space Mountain (a high speed, twisty-turny, up and downy ride in the dark).  The first few times I went to The Magic Kingdom as a child my parents informed me that the ride was closed.  As I waited in the queue this time, it occurred to me that it was quite a coincidence that it had been closed every time we visited.  I suspect I may have been lied to and that Ma and Pa were just too scared to go on it.  To be fair, I suspect the old dears probably wouldn’t have had the heart for it.

Hmm.  Just realised that I am now older than my parents were the first couple of times we visited Disney.  Bugger it.  That means I’m now an old dear!

This was Mrs G’s first trip to Disney so Space Mountain seemed a fitting first ride to introduce her to the park’s delights.  She screamed like a girl from the moment we sat down and our space buggy took us zooming through the universe.  As she is a girl and found the ride scary I suppose that’s fair enough.

After that we wandered through the various lands and went on several somewhat less buttock-clenching rides: Buzz Lightyear’s Space Ranger Spin; Pirates of the Caribbean; Big Thunder Mountain Railroad; Country Bear Jamboree (after which we stop at Pecos Bill Café for bacon double cheese-burgers); The Haunted Mansion and finished with a sedate trip on It’s A Small World.  We then hopped on the monorail, took a bus to Disney Hollywood Studios and met Rebekah (who had been wandering around The Animal Kingdom molesting Mickey Mouse).

Disney Hollywood Studios (which I’m sure was MGM Studios when I last visited 17 years ago) was superb.  We started with Star Tours – the ultimate Star Wars thrill ride and then moved onto Lights, Motors, Action!™ Stunt Show.  The driving skill on display was breathtakingly good.  Fast vehicles, shooting and big explosions helped to ease the pain of having been away from my beloved Xbox 360 for so long.

Next stop: The Hollywood Tower Hotel.  This ride is like taking part in an episode of The Twilight Zone set in a 1917 hotel.  It starts out quite creepy in a cheesy sort of a way and then builds to the most terrifying ride I have ever been on.  Seriously.  Mrs G was clinging onto me, Rebekah was holding hands with Mrs G, everyone was screaming and laughing hysterically as the elevator we were in plummeted and soared at sickening speeds.  Pant-wettingly scary as Rebekah described it.  It was brilliant!

Following this we visited the Indiana Jones Stunt show which was not as exciting as the first stunt show.  However, hearing the Indy Theme tune blaring while watching a live Indy dodge spikes, outrun rolling boulders, fight generic middle-eastern turbaned baddies of indeterminate origin and get manly with a large bald moustachioed Nazi was rather splendid none-the-less.  It was something of a shame to me that the Nazi was shot rather than having his head mutilated by the propellers of the plane that was spinning around on the set but I suppose you can’t have everything.

After this we headed to Mickey’s fantasy light show thing, or Fantasmic! to use its official title.  This was a show loosely based on Fantasia (The Sorcerer’s Apprentice) featuring various Disney characters.  Live action mixed with animation (cleverly projected onto screens made of water), music and pyrotechnics combined to make a captivating sensory experience.

Rebekah and I then dragged a protesting Mrs G back to the Hollywood Tower Hotel for another thrill before heading back to the villa.  Having experienced it once we convinced her it wouldn’t be as frightening the second time around.  How wrong we were!  Rebekah and Mrs G made more noise than the small children whose parents had decided it would be a good idea to bring them along.  That may have been because some of the children had gone into a shock induced coma and were unable to breathe.

Back at the ranch we finished the evening in a similar manner to the previous night: a moderate amount of drink to soothe our shaken nerves and the American TV version of Life on Mars.

Friday we spent a lazy day lounging around the pool and napping.  We went for a Thai meal in the evening to a place called Thai Thani where I had the most wonderful Duck Curry.

After a lazy start to Saturday Mrs G and I headed off to the Universal theme parks (Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure) leaving Rebekah behind to do some “work”.

We weren’t as taken with Universal as Disney.  My memories of the place were much better than the real (for want of a better word) thing.  We went on Terminator 2 – 3D; E.T. Adventure; Jaws; Disaster; The Cat in The Hat and Poseidon’s Fury before leaving the park just before closing at 7:00 pm.

Once back, Rebekah set off for supplies and when she returned we had pizza, beer and wine while watching a classic film full of social commentary and an in-depth analysis of the American education and legal establishments: Legally Blond.

Rebekah and Mrs G then decided to engage in some serious theological reflection.  In the pool.  In rubber rings.  With wine.  And, frankly, with very little in the way of clothing.  Er, I mean very little in the way of theological reflection.  Sorry about that.

Then it was time for bed, time for waking up, time for packing, time for heading to the airport and time for getting on the plane.  We’re now approaching our destination.  Our cold, palm-treeless destination.

*Sigh*

Oh well, at least Sunday night is Beer and Wings night at Archie Moore’s.

Time for a break

I finally had enough!  After months of slaving away dusting, polishing, vacuuming, washing and the like (while Mrs G swans around attending classes, writing essays and the like) I felt it was high time I had a holiday!

On Wednesday the lovely, bubbly Jenny Miller picked us up just after 6:00 am and took us to Bradley International Airport where we leisurely boarded a plane and set off for Florida. A mere 2.5 hours later we touched down at Orlando International Airport to be greeted by blue skies, sunshine and palm trees.  Could be a rough few days I thought.

Rebekah had travelled ahead a couple of days earlier and came to pick us up in the hire car.  Sadly the sat nav she was using took her into some road works, into the airport and then out of the airport again.  She did eventually manage to get to us and we were soon on the way to Kissimmee, with me driving.

Having driven on the wrong (right) side of the road in Greece (where the concept of rules of the road appears not to have reached) I was fairly calm about driving in The States.  We’d purchased a sat nav of our own and the delightful Irish lady directed us to our villa with a minimum of fuss and bother.

And what a villa!  It’s built to comfortably hold eight so with just three of us here it seems practically palatial!!  After spending some time running excitedly around the whole place I cracked open a beer and relaxed with a spot of internet browsing followed by a wee nap.

After napping Mrs G and I decided to do a little shopping and search out a steak at one of the multitude of eating spots located on the 192.

First stop, Wal Mart!  We bought a few food items, beer, wine, jeans for me ($16.50) and sweat pants ($5.00).  As ethical consumers we probably shouldn’t go near the place but at those prices who gives a toss about ethics!!

After that we hunted down our steak.  A giant billboard announcing Ponderosa Steakhouse that we noticed as soon as we left Wal Mart was clearly a sign from above so we headed there immediately.

Unlike any other eating establishment we’ve ever been to we had to order our food before being shown to a table.  There was a handy guide showing photographs of what colo(u)r your slab of meat would look like depending on how you wanted it cooked.  I opted for my usual medium rare while Mrs G went for medium.  We also chose the skewered shrimps option.

After ordering and paying we were shown to a booth.  Having expected to discover a wonderful slice of Americana it was somewhat disconcerting to notice that the walls were covered with football (soccer) scarves from English clubs with a smattering of Scottish, Welsh, Irish and European teams also represented.

Our meal included an all you can pile on your plate buffet so we started by helping ourselves to the various salad items as well as noodles, pizza, meatballs and enough other assorted items with which one could feed an impoverished Third World nation for three months.

Eventually our steak and shrimps arrived and they were done exactly as we had asked.  The quality was far superior to what you’d expect to receive at a drunken Englishman’s barbecue and after helping ourselves to the all you can eat dessert we made our way back to the villa content that we had made the world a better place.

We rounded off our evening with a drink or two while watching trashy American reality TV.

Yes we can

Congratulations President Elect Obama.

Good job America!

Mory’s and The Whiffenpoofs

From the outside it’s a fairly unassuming white wooden-panelled building with nothing to indicate what lies within.

Stepping through the door is like stepping back through time: the walls are dark wood adorned with black and white photographs of athletes; oars hang from the walls and ceilings; the plain tables have initials and symbols carved randomly across them.  Even the dim yellow lighting seems to belong to another time and place.

306 York Street is the current location of Mory’s whose origins lay in an alehouse on Wooster Street run by Mr and Mrs Moriarty in the 1860s.  Who knew that America actually has some history?!

Mory’s is a private club which wouldn’t seem out of place in Oxbridge.  Formerly membership was restricted to men.  Women were allowed on the premises but had to sit upstairs hidden away from the men-folk.  Following Yale’s enrolment of women to the university (in 1969) it was only a matter of time till the gender barrier was broken.  As you might expect, there was initially much opposition to allowing women to become full members.  The local government threatened to remove Mory’s liquor licence if women were not given full membership.  Unsurprisingly, this quashed any opposition and from 1972 all Yalie genders have been able to enjoy being in the club.

There were a group of twelve of us (all women except me) who went for a meal.  The food was okay but it was worth paying purely for the atmosphere.

Which brings me nicely to the Whiffenpoofs.  Incidentally, I believe that the “poof” bit is pronounced as in “poof - the magician made the homosexual disappear”.  The Whiffenpoofs were founded in 1909 and took their name from  “Little Nemo”, an operatic Broadway show which was based on a comic strip that ran in the New York Herald.

A Whiffenpoof, as best I can tell, is a type of imaginary fish.  The Whiffenpoofs are an a cappella  group of 14 Yale seniors (all male) who traditionally sing at Mory’s Temple Bar (to use its more formal name) on Monday evenings (in addition to touring the world).

During the course of the evening they performed a number of songs for the delight of the diners.  And they were good.  Very, very good.  These young men, dressed in ties and blazers, had the ladies swooning.  Too good looking for their own good if you ask me.  Bastards.  Anyway…

They have some interesting rituals which involve them drinking from cups (as in sporting trophies) filled with differing blends of champagne, rum, beer and liqueurs into which a large block of ice is placed to keep the concoctions cool.  These trophies are in fact bigger than Mrs G’s head (see photo above).

Most of the people we were with left fairly early but Mrs G, Rebekah and I wandered out back to join the Whiffenpoofs while they smoked and finished off their cups.  We were treated to some more singing and were asked to help them finish off the four cups.  We, of course, obliged.  Rebekah obliged quite a lot actually and made giggly girlie noises while being serenaded.

Sadly, the evening had to come to an end so we made our way back to our apartments having had a thoroughly pleasant time.

A Tale of Two Polities

As some of you may be aware, the somewhat insignificant matter of the US Presidential race is currently underway.  It has been interesting to observe proceedings without the filter of the British media.  The flipside, of course, is that we’ve had to look through the filter of the American media.

We first experienced American coverage of major political events when we were over here ten years ago while the country was in the grip of the Bill Clinton impeachment process.  Comparing Clinton with the current Bush Administration, I now have a much deeper understanding of how American politics works.  Apparently blow jobs warrant the possibility of removal from office but shafting your own country and much of the rest of the world doesn’t really matter so much.

The week following our arrival was the Democratic Convention at which Barack Obama officially accepted his party’s nomination for president.  His speech was given on the 45th anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech (at which time Obama was two years old).  From The Dreamer to The Dream in such a comparatively short space of time is truly amazing.

Although blacks have ostensibly been able to vote for quite some time, The Civil Rights Act outlawing racial segregation was only passed in 1964 and The National Voting Rights Act aimed at combating disenfranchisement in 1965.

One of Mrs G’s lecturers tells the story of how her Grandmother had to learn to read under a barrel.  To vote in South Carolina in those days you had to be able to read.  There were some whites who would disrupt black households if they saw lights on after a certain time because lights meant learnin’ and that just had to be stopped.  The only way blacks could learn to read without fear of interruption (or worse) was to hide under a barrel with a light.

So, as I say, From Martin Luther King Jr. to Barack Obama in such a comparatively short space of time is truly amazing

As I listened to Obama give his acceptance speech I had a feeling of pride well up within my chest.  I wanted to put on some Stars and Stripes underwear, sing The Star Spangled Banner and salute the American Flag while eating momma’s home-made pumpkin pie.  Gimme a Green Card!  I wanna be an American!!!!

Colin Powell, Republican and former Secretary of State in the Bush Administration, recently gave his endorsement to Barack Obama.  Among other things he said:

"I'm also troubled by, not what Senator McCain says, but what members of the [Republican] Party say... such things as 'Well, you know that Mr Obama is a Muslim'.

"Well the correct answer is, 'He's not a Muslim, he's a Christian, he's always been a Christian'.  But the really right answer is, "What if he is?'  Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country?  The answer is 'No', that's not America."

Quite.

Then, the next week, it was the Republican Convention at which John “Coffin Dodger” McCain accepted his party’s nomination and we were introduced to his Vice Presidential choice: Sarah “Moose Wrasslin” Palin.

Oh my.  What a contrast.  

As the week wore on the politics of fear loomed larger and larger.  This quote sums up the unease I felt while listening to the various speakers:

"Of course people don't want war.  But after all, it's the leaders of the country who determine the policy, and it's always a simple matter to drag the people along whether it's a democracy, fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship.  Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought back to the bidding of the leaders.  That is easy.  All you have to do is tell them that they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to greater danger."  

No, that’s not a quote from the Republican Convention.  It’s from Hermann Goering at the Nuremberg Trials.

I shall say no more in this vein for fear of falling further foul of Godwin’s Law.

At this point it would be too easy to descend into mockery (like pointing out that Sarah Palin feels she is qualified to handle international diplomacy because she can see Russia from her house) so I shall instead try to end on a more positive note.

On November the 4th America will choose its next President (as long as there are no problems with the voting procedure that is.  Heh.  Like that could happen in The World’s Greatest Democracy)!

There is a quiet confidence in most of the Americans that I speak to.  The polls (which historically have been pretty accurate this close to Election Day) indicate that Barack Obama will be the 44th President of The United States of America.  I hope they’re right.

I’ll let Barack Hussein Obama have the last word with two of my favourite quotes of his:

“You know, my faith is one that admits some doubt.”

And

"Who is Barack Obama?  Contrary to the rumours you have heard, I was not born in a manger.  I was actually born on Krypton and sent here by my father Jor-El to save the Planet Earth.  Many of you know that I got my name, Barack, from my father.  What you may not know is Barack is actually Swahili for 'That One.'  And I got my middle name from somebody who obviously didn't think I'd ever run for president.  If I had to name my greatest strength, I guess it would be my humility.  Greatest weakness, it's possible that I'm a little too awesome."

Serious Business

First off, an apology.  A number of my loyal legion of fans have expressed concern at the lack of updates to my blog.  While I can appreciate the distress this has caused some of you I would like to make it quite clear that it is in fact all Mrs G’s fault.

She has had me working under a very strict chore regime.  Just this morning, for instance, I have had to clean the bathroom, spray and polish the apartment, do the laundry (clothes currently in dryer – no doubt SWMBO will expect me to iron them today as well), make a cup of tea and make a pot of coffee.  And it’s only just turned 10 o’clock!

When I’m not being run into the ground in this manner she decides that she should get priority on the laptop for the trivial business of writing essays and such like.  Fortunately she has a very busy schedule today so I’ve decided to make the most of the opportunity and share some more ramblings.

Having purchased an American Xbox 360 not so long ago I have been able to indulge in a spot of gaming when Mrs G deigns to allow me some free time.  That I have repeatedly saved the universe from complete destruction several times has had absolutely no bearing on the lack of blog updates I can assure you.

I had to use my amazing hacking skills to get my 360 connected to Xbox Live but I can now game and chat with my online friends whenever I like.  It’s as though I never left the UK.

It’s actually getting cold in New Haven now.  It can still be mild during the day but short sleeves in the evening are now a no-no.  We’re planning a trip to New York sometime in the very near future to stock up on winter woollies.  And to do a bit of sightseeing.

Other trips we’re currently looking at include Vermont, Florida and Boston.  Each trip will of course be the subject of an in-depth blog entry.  We spent part of our honeymoon in Boston ten years ago (December ‘98) and are hoping we’ll be able to go again somewhere around the time of our anniversary.

“Enough of all this” I hear you cry.  “We want to hear about important things”.  Of course you do dear readers, so without further ado let me satisfy your urgent need to learn of significant matters.

Cereal.  After the Apple Jacks ran out we took the advice of a number of our American friends and went with Cinnamon Toast Crunch (a very crunchy cereal made of toasted cinnamon squares) and Cap’n Crunch’s Peanut Butter Crunch (balls of crunchy peanut butter tasting stuff).

Cap’n Crunch’s Peanut Butter Crunch is possibly the greatest cereal ever created.  Seriously.  How could something containing Niacinamide, Thiamin Mononitrate and Pyridoxine Hydrochloride (among other things) not be fabulous?

Once we finished those I bought a box of Newman’s Own Sweet Enough which is flakes with bits of strawberries.  Kind of like Special K.  While this may not seem terribly exciting compared to other cereals I’ve mentioned I bought it the week following the legendary actor’s death.  It seemed a fitting tribute (much easier than eating 50 boiled eggs in any event).

We’re currently nearing the end of our Maple Pecan Crunch (you can probably work that one out) and Reese’s Puffs (Hershey’s Cocoa & Reese’s Peanut Butter Sweet and Crunchy Corn Puffs).

I hope you are as excited as I am about what comes next!!

Must dash for now, Mrs G’s just got home and I need to look busy.

Season of Mists

For most of the time that we’ve been here the weather has been fabulous.  We’ve had a couple of days rain recently though and there’s occasionally a bit of a chill in the air.  However, it’s still warm enough that I usually wander around in a short-sleeved top, even during the evenings.  Some of the greens are starting to turn to yellow, pumpkins are sitting on steps and Mrs G is shopping for warm clothes.  Fall is here.

We’ve pretty much settled into a rhythm now.  Mrs G has her timetable for studies and has graciously given me a timetable of household duties although I somehow still seem to need reminding to do the vacuuming.

I’m sitting in on (or auditing as it’s referred to) one of Mrs G’s classes - Godly Scepticism: Ecclesiastes and Its Reception in Early Christian Tradition.  For those of you not familiar with Ecclesiastes (also known as Qoheleth) this Hebrew phrase will give you a feel for what it’s about:

הֲבֵל הֲבָלִים אָמַר קֹהֶלֶת, הֲבֵל הֲבָלִים הַכֹּל הָבֶל

I hope that’s clear.

It roughly translates as "Hebel, hebel says the teacher, all is hebel.”  Hebel (pronounce hevel) is variously translated as meaningless or vanity (in the old sense of the word).  A better translation (arguably) would be absurd (in the sense used by Camus).

I hope that’s clear.

The class meets twice a week (Mondays and Wednesdays) from 1:30 till 3:00 as in taken by (the rather excellent) Professor Carolyn Sharp who has a particular interest in the area of irony.

For someone who spends a lot of his thought time bimbling about (or perhaps bumbling as the spell-check has helpfully suggested) in the Holy Idea Trinity of Non-Theism, Agnosticism and Atheism it’s refreshing to engage with a biblical book that engages with injustice, meaninglessness and general existential angst.  That it advocates having and enjoying a drink is a bonus!

The other major bonus is that I don’t actually have to do any work.  I just do the reading, turn up and once in a while make a comment.  I do act as a sounding board for Mrs G though and I proof-read her assignments.  It’s a great chance to practice passive-aggression if she’s annoyed or upset me.  I take out my giant red marker pen and gleefully highlight any errors in her papers.

I leave you today with this thought taken out of context from Ecclesiastes Chapter 2, Verse 24:

a wild ass at home in the wilderness,

in her heat sniffing the wind!

Who can restrain her lust?

Oops.  Sorry.  That’s from Jeremiah, Chapter 2, Verse 24.

The Ecclesiastes quote is:

There is nothing better for mortals than to eat and drink, and find enjoyment in their toil.

People

Before we set off we reckoned that 19 weeks would be quite a long time to spend here.  Having been here for a month now we both wish it could last longer.  I have considered changing the locks on our apartment and trying to avoid Homeland Security for as long as possible but I suspect that wouldn’t work out too well.

Part of what’s making our time here so pleasurable is the people.  Everyone is genuinely friendly and very hospitable.  I have turned this into a game when we go out for a meal.  Whenever we get attended to I try to see how many times I can get the person who is serving us to say “you’re welcome” in the space of a minute.   Saying “thank you” each time they bring a menu, take an order, place cutlery, whatever, has given me a personal best of 13 “you’re welcome”s.  I hope to reach 15 and break the once every four seconds barrier before we return to the UK.

Folk from the school have also been neighbourly.  One Saturday morning we got a knock on our apartment door.  Marissa, who is a first year and lives across the hall from us, said she had done “a bit of breakfast” and asked if we would like to come over.  As it was nearing lunchtime we figured this would be a good idea.

“A bit of breakfast” turned out to mean plain pancakes, blueberry pancakes, maple syrup, scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, cinnamon rolls (with a side pot of icing sugar for spreading), fruit, juice and coffee.  There were about eight of us there and when we left a couple of hours later there was still plenty left over.  I’m hoping we get invited for “a bit of dinner” soon as I reckon that could feed us for a week.

We were also invited to an evening meal recently with Adam and Martha and their delightful daughter Knox.  Adam was at Mrs G’s college in Cambridge at the end of last year/beginning of this year.  They live not far from YDS and Mrs G, Ellen, Rebekah and I wandered down there one Tuesday evening where we had a lovely time being fed and watered.

We’ve also found ourselves at social occasions at Archie Moore’s a few times as that seems to be the local gathering place for YDS students.  We’ve been there just to catch up with folk, to celebrate a birthday, to watch fooball, to celebrate that it’s Friday and also just for fun.  It can be quite trying having this active a social life, especially spending so much of it in a bar with a huuuuuge menu.

Through sheer grit and determination we’re just somehow managing to get by.

Beer Good

So far we’ve really been enjoying our time in the States.    I could quite happily live here.  Well, if Mrs G was prepared to support me indefinitely that is.  Most working Americans only get two weeks’ holiday a year which clearly wouldn’t suit the lifestyle I’m accustomed to.

For most of the time we’ve had lovely weather (apart from catching the tail end of tropical storm Hannah).  It’s almost been too hot at times though and the humidity saps the energy out of you like having to go shoe shopping with your wife.  Fortunately, our apartment is air-conditioned and the bars also have cooling mechanisms.  And there are no shoe shops.

Speaking of bars, prior to coming here I was a little concerned about the real ale situation.  Turns out I was worrying in vain.  So far I’ve sampled quite a number of decent American beers (note: friends don’t let friends drink Budweiser). 

We popped out to The Playwright a couple of nights ago and had a 10 oz New York steak with whiskey and mushroom sauce.  Wonderful.  Mrs G washed hers down with a pint of Sam Adams. I started with a Beach Bum Blonde Ale.  Slid down very easily and though not unpleasant it was somewhat unmemorable.

I followed that with a Magic Hat # 9.  My palate was instantly struck by an unusual flavour. Raspberry?  Echinacea?  No.  Mrs G had a taste. We knew we knew what it was but neither of us could quite pinpoint it.  In the end we asked our waitress and she asked the bartender. Apricot!  Of course.  Easy once you know.  Smells just like Mrs G’s new shampoo.  Tastes much better though.  Very interesting flavour. Couldn’t drink it all night but would certainly have it again.

After dinner the waitress asked if I would like anything else so I asked for a Hooker. Unfortunately they were out so I had to settle for a Blue Moon instead.

It’s not all fun and games here though.  Oh no.  I’ve been apricots-deep in muck while cleaning the apartment.  Scouring pads, rubber gloves and bleach have done wonders.  It seems the previous occupant(s) were allergic to cleaning of any variety.  The amount of scrubbing I’ve done has had me sweating like a pig in a bucket.  Pretty much under control now thankfully.

We’ve also sorted out other essential day-to-day matters such as opening a US bank account, buying mobile phones, visiting IKEA (I sat and read while Mrs G shopped), advising Amazon US of our address, buying lots of stuff from Amazon US, doing laundry, planning a holiday to Florida and so on.

Anyway, that’ll have to do for now.  I’m expecting a delivery and need to go check the mail box.

Food

How time flies when you’re given loads of free food and drink.  They certainly know how to do hospitality here at YDS.  All the food has been rather splendid but my favourite was the pizza topped with bacon and mashed potato.  Yes, that’s right.  Bacon and mashed potato.  Absolutely scrumptious.

As you might expect at a University there are many hotly contested theories which are defended vigorously by their various proponents.  The most bitter dispute here is where to get the best pizzas.  Two of the main contenders are Modern Apizza and Bar.  So far my vote goes to Bar, home of the aforementioned bacon and mashed potato pizza.

The number of free food events has diminished since the orientation week but there are still ways and means to stuff oneself stupid for free should one so desire.

Plus there’s always the option to eat out which we’ve done a few times as well: had a California Burger at Archie Moore’s; sushi platter followed by crispy lemon sea scallops (quite possibly the best scallops EVA!!!) at Kudeta; Vitello Saltimbocca at Caffé Bravo; BLT at The Playwright and Steak Quesadilla at Black Bear Saloon.

For what is a comparatively small area New Haven has a huge number of places to eat with cuisine from all over the globe.  In addition to American food (bar, BBQ, light, new, short-order, southern, soul, steakhouses and traditional) there’s Chinese, Cuban, Eritrean, Ethiopian, French, Greek, Indian, Italian, Jamaican, Japanese, Korean, Malaysian, Mediterranean, Mexican, Middle Eastern, Nuevo Latino, Puerto Rican, South American, Spanish, Swedish and Thai.  And that’s just giving you broad brushstrokes.

I would love to be able to try them all but I suspect that may not be possible in the time we have here.  However, you can help.  For a small donation to my PayPal account I will be prepared to sample the delights of this masticatory multiverse on a regular basis.

Of course not every meal is had away from our apartment.  We did our first online shop in America a couple of days ago and now have a kitchen well stocked with cupcakes, cookies, Rolling Rock Pale Ale, mac ‘n’ cheese and peanut butter cup ice cream.

Disaster nearly struck as we forgot to order new cereal.  Fortunately I was able to pick up some Apple Jacks (as recommended by the lovely, bubbly Jenny) to replace the nearly depleted Lucky Charms.  Apple Jacks look like Fruit Loops but only come in orange (cinnamon) and green (apple).  I suspect that there may be no natural ingredients used in the production process.

Our American Culinary Experience has so far been very pleasurable and I have no doubt that it will continue to be so.  Now, if I could just track down some twinkies…

Wednesday 27th August 2008

I don’t really notice the crickets anymore, which is nice. Doesn’t stop me from waking early today though. As it’s not even six o’clock and I’m wide-awake I decide I’ll get up so as not to disturb Mrs G.

I enter stealth mode and enter the bathroom. Upon leaving the bathroom I am greeted by a ghostly apparition which glowers malevolently at me like something out of a horror film. Realising that I have failed miserably in my quest to not disturb Mrs G I quickly (and quietly) slink out of the room before any violence ensues.

I spend some time reading while lying as still as possible on the sofa until it gets to safe o’clock and I take Mrs G a cup of tea.

Today’s lunch has been provided by Nica’s Market. There is a phenomenal array of sandwiches and after much deliberation I go for one roast beef and one Italian. I can highly recommend Nica’s Market if you want fresh and tasty grub.

To avoid being hunted down by The Department of Homeland Security Mrs G has to register at the Office for International Students and Scholars. I tag along for the ride and then tootle off on my own into Downtown New Haven.

My first stop is at Richter’s Bar where I sample a Harpoon Summer Ale. I then browse in a few bookstores and somehow manage to refrain from buying a library’s worth of books. After a general bimble about I seek out the one and only video game shop which is located Downtown. Sadly, it has closed down.

To cheer myself up from this devastating event I walk back to our apartment (via Orange) and stop at Orange Street Liquor Shop. Before entering I take a picture of the storefront. Once inside the following conversation ensues:

Person In Store: Are you taking photos of historic New Haven Buildings?
Me: Is this an historic New Haven Building?
Person In Store: No.

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud and replied that I’d just have to make something up. I leave with a six pack of Amber Red Rock Ale and a bottle of Penfolds Koonunga Hill Shiraz Cabernet.

Back at the ranch Mrs G and I have Roast Vegetable Pizza (which was surprisingly delicious), drink beer and wine and watch a bit of the Democratic National Convention at which Barack Obama’s nomination for the US Presidency is made official.

Having only one viewable channel on the TV we stream a couple of programmes from the internet before retiring for the evening.

Tuesday 26th August 2008

Another 7:00 rise, another quiet morning.

Lunch is again in the Quadrangle. Today it’s build your own salad day. Having had a lot of vegetarian food recently it’s nice to have some ham cubes and bits of chicken to sprinkle on the rabbit food. To be fair, there’s a good selection of salad stuff which is more appetising than it appears. The star of lunch though is the cookies.

It seems a bit odd to have a cookies with salad but that’s just the way it’s done here. The peanut butter cookies are possibly the greatest cookies I have ever eaten. Slightly crunchy on the bottom, moist in the middle, chunks of peanuts and the most wonderful texture and taste. They are, quite simply, HAMAZING! I add them to my list of “Essential Foods to live on in America” (along with Fruit Loops and Beer).

After lunch we check out the laundry in the basement, raid the free room and chat with Rebekah who wanders over. Then it’s time for another food event.

You may be surprised to learn that despite all the free food we’ve been having there are very few … hmm … how can I put this delicately … there are very few fatties about. Sure, there’s the occasional porker who could clearly do with spending more time at the salad bar, but on the whole the Americans we’ve seen are no lardier than the Brits.

The main meal is shredded pork with barbecue sauce, mac ‘n’ cheese and salad stuffs. There’s a keg of beer from the Sierra Nevada microbrewery which compliments the food rather well.

We spend a fair bit of time chatting with Benji who is a big fan of English comedy, especially Fawlty Towers and anything with Ricky Gervais in it. Benji is from Arizona and he drove to Yale. This took him five nights/six days. America really is quite large.

Mrs G goes back to the apartment as she’s feeling a bit tired. Benji, Rebekah and I head off to Archie Moore’s where some other Yalies are hanging out. We’re joined by Jess from Texas who was driven to Yale by her Dad. He drove for 36 hours with only a two-hour rest along the way. Madness I tell you.

Rebekah decides that she would like to join a secret society. Fortunately for her Yale is home to one of the best known of America’s secret societies: Skull and Bones. You can even find their building on local maps. This seems to me to be somewhat contrary to the spirit of a secret society but Rebekah is undeterred. She hopes to blag her way in by using her English accent to bamboozle the Bonesmen (as they’re known) into believing that she has connections with royalty. I’ll keep you posted with how that works out for her.

There’s a rather rowdy table near to us. Our American friends inform me that they are slightly older, single (probably divorced) women who are known as “Cougars”. The phrase “mutton dressed as lamb” springs to mind. I pity any of the freshers that fall into their claws.

Before leaving I try another American beer called Blue Moon. It’s slightly effervescent and has a bit of a citrus taste to it. Not unpleasant and I will no doubt have a pint or two in the future.

On the walk back we are passed by a flatbed truck which stops not far from us. Rebekah decides to ask the driver if he’s going up the hill so she can get a lift. Benji and I do the chivalrous thing: we put our heads down, keep walking and leave Rebekah to it. The truck driver is not going our way (which is only a few hundred yards away in any case) so Rebekah rejoins us. She explains that the driver seemed somewhat petrified. Having a mad English woman come towards you out of the dark and given reports of shootings in the area I wonder why.

Monday 25th August 2008

We wake up at a very reasonable 7:00 am. Mrs G seems to have slept well so the limbs of our neighbours are safe. I put a pot of coffee on and have a leisurely morning reading, playing Kirby and eating Fruit Loops.

Today we are able to attend to some exceedingly important business: registering our laptop so we can connect to the internet. We toddle off to see IT support around 11:00 and are assisted by a very pleasant and helpful chap called Paul. To access the Yale network Mrs G has to enter her username and password. These were emailed to her some months ago. So to access the Yale network she has to connect to her email which she can’t do until she retrieves her information from her email.

Fortunately, this Catch 22 situation is resolved by visiting The Registrar’s Office and obtaining the necessary details from them. Half an hour later and we can now connect to t’interweb! I feel whole again!! Well, almost. I still have to get a 360 to be complete.

Mrs G has to attend the first of many Before The Fall Orientation (BTFO) events, leaving me to catch up on emails, upload photos, read forums, browse randomly and get my blog notes into some semblance of order. I also enjoy the remains of my pastrami sandwich for lunch and consume copious cups of coffee.

A brief burst of rain is followed by a brief thunderstorm. This does nothing to affect the heat and the sunny weather we’ve been experiencing since we arrived soon returns.

Mrs G arrives back from BTFO at 5:50 and advises me that an evening meal will be available at 6:00. I immediately stop what I am doing, get ready and head off to the Quadrangle where the food tents have been set up. We are provided with a number of vegetarian Indian dishes, all of which are rather tasty. This goes well with the real lemonade (not fizzy pop) and is followed by desserts made by staff and students.

As part of BTFO, Mrs G was put into a small group. I will now relate one of the true stories to come out of this:

The Dog and The Suitcase

In the not too distant past a couple looked after a largish dog for some relatives who went away on holiday. The dog had seen many years of life and sadly died while the owners were away. The woman informed the relatives of this unhappy news and asked what they would like her to do.

The owners wanted the dog to be either buried or cremated but were so upset that they asked the woman if she would take care of the arrangements so that they wouldn’t have to do it when they returned from their vacation. The woman dutifully agreed.

Not having any transport of her own she had to catch a train to the pet cemetery. Not having any specialised dead-dog carrying equipment she packed the deceased canine into a suitcase.

At the train station she struggled to get the suitcase through the turnstile. A passing gentleman kindly assisted her and enquired as to why the suitcase was so heavy. Too embarrassed to tell the truth the woman said that she was transporting a PC and accessories.

After the train journey the woman again struggled at the turnstile until the same gentleman once again came to her rescue. Once he was through the turnstile he then ran off with the suitcase.

I suspect he was surprised to find out how few USB ports his new PC had.

The rest of the evening is spent chatting with all and sundry at the Quadrangle, including the lovely, bubbly Jenny who we first met at Westcott last year when she was over from Yale on the exchange programme. We wander over to the apartment and spend some time hanging around the stairwell, talking with some of our fellow block-mates.

Back in our rooms I round the evening off with a refreshing peppermint tea.

Sunday 24th August 2008

In addition to crickets and chair scrapping we also have someone practicing their flamenco on a tiled surface while wearing high heels. Mrs G is turning homicidal and muttering about chainsaws. Our body clocks wake us at 4:00 am and we drift in and out of sleep until getting up at 6:30.

Although we haven’t had the most restful of nights I feel like we’re starting to get into the swing of things. Have a cuppa, read a bit, bowl of Fruit Loops, read some more, another cuppa, snooze, cuppa, Nintendo DS. Life in America is good.

Eventually we decide to go and visit the grocery store. Having ascertained the correct driveway to start from and the correct hill to go down we confidently make our way along Canner Street. We arrive at the grocery store to find that it is closed all day Sunday.

Undaunted, we head down Orange Street until we reach Romeo and Ceasar’s Deli. Thankfully it is open. This used to be Romeo and Giuseppe’s but apparently there was an acrimonious dispute between the owners (which I like to imagine involved a horse’s head under a duvet) and Giuseppe joined forces with the rival Nica’s Market further along Orange. We order a root beer, steak pizzaiola sub and some rosemary & olive oil chips (crisps) and sit in the shade for a while under one of their yellow umbrellas.

We wander a bit further along Orange, taking note of places to eat and places to shop (liquor store), before making our way back to Romeo and Ceasar’s for another drink (Sprite) and to pick up some essential supplies: coffee beans (which we grind ourselves); coffee filters; Doctor Pepper’s; cookies; pizza.

Back at the apartment we continue our integration into the American way of life by drinking more tea, reading and having an afternoon nap.

During the course of the afternoon Rebekah and Ellen (the other two exchange students from Westcott House, Cambridge, UK) turn up so we brew them some tea and eat the remains of the rosemary & olive oil chips while catching up.

We take a look at Rebekah’s apartment which is smaller than ours but much better equipped. So we pinch her vacuum cleaner, bleach, a table and TV. I can only get two channels tuned in. One is showing the World Little League Baseball final between Hawaii and Mexico (yay) and the other a rather fuzzy-pictured Everybody Hates Chris. I won’t be watching much TV. I will, however, be buying an Xbox 360 so that we can watch DVDs and listen to music. I may even play a game on occasion although I’m not really known for that.

While on our wanderings earlier in the day we spotted a place called Archie Moore’s. As we are now experts at finding our way around the area we head there for a meal with Ellen and Rebekah. It’s a real slice of Americana. The walls are covered in Coca-Cola signs, baseball is showing on the TV, our waitress is unbelievably friendly and you can put weight on just by looking at the menu.

The house speciality is Buffalo Wings which is chicken legs coated in Buffalo Sauce (named after the place rather than the animal) and served with bleu cheese dip. We order a small platter to share as a starter. For the main course I have Grilled Pastrami Reuben: thinly sliced grilled pastrami served with Russian dressing, sauerkraut and Swiss cheese on grilled rye. It is wonderful but I can only manage to eat half of it (plus the fries and pickle) so the waitress packs up the remains to go.

Having been informed by the Chief of Police that a student was robbed and shot (in the hand) a few days ago I ask the waitress is she thinks the area is safe enough to walk in at night. She breezily assures us that she will be happily jogging around the area when her shift finishes. We therefore cheerily make our way back to the apartments. Besides, Mrs G and I are from Nottingham so gun crime is really rather passé as far as we’re concerned.

Saturday 23rd August 2008

So we didn’t have a great night’s sleep despite having gone to bed absolutely knackered after being up for around twenty-two hours. In addition to the crickets, someone on the floor above decided that dragging a chair repeatedly across their non-carpeted floor would be a fun thing to do in the middle of the night. Mrs G wants to shoot them but I suggest that may not be the best response for someone training to be a priest.

We get up at 7:00 am local time and have a cuppa with a bowl of Fruit Loops for breakfast. Fruit Loops may be one of the greatest inventions ever. You can tell just by looking at them that they provide all the nutrients that the body needs. I consider living on them while I’m here.

Mrs G proceeds to iron the bed linen and clean the apartment, which is not up to “The Queen of Clean’s” standards. You may be wondering why I, as the house husband, am not doing this. Well, Mrs G is a bit stressed and she finds cleaning therapeutic so I feel it best to just let her get on with it. That’s how considerate I am. I will, of course, be resuming my cleaning regime once we have had a chance to get bleach, rubber gloves and all other necessary equipment.

It’s quite tiring watching Mrs G clean so I read for a bit and play Kirby and the Amazing Mirror while making encouraging noises in her general direction.

We decide to explore the area a bit and get some food. We set off following the route Justin took us on yesterday as we know there are some shops within walking distance along the way. After travelling for quite some time we realise that we have absolutely no idea where we are going so we head back to the apartment and have a cup of tea with grape jelly on toast for lunch followed by an afternoon nap. We later discover that although our initial directions were correct (turn right out of the driveway and go down the hill) we had started from the wrong driveway and gone down the wrong hill.

Around 5:00 we get to go to The Free Room. This is a place where outgoing students leave things they no longer require: sofas; cutlery; crockery; towels; pictures; oven gloves; and so on. We, along with the other international visitors, can help ourselves to whatever we need. We grab some essentials and Mrs G sticks post-it notes on the larger items so we can collect them at a later date. I take a coffee table back with us to replace the one we have which looks like it came over on The Mayflower.

We get taken out for a meal with the other International Students who are about. There are fourteen of us in all with folk from Belarus, Canada, China, Germany, Ghana, Hong Kong and South Korea. We go to a bar called The Playwright which is an American Irish bar (note: not American-Irish). I have a Dustin the Turkey’s Club washed down with a couple of pints of Samuel Adams Summer Ale. The ale is superb but for some strange reason it comes served with a slice of lemon. That’s right. Lemon. In ale. WTF?!?!

On the topic of alcohol, Connecticut has some regulations (known as Blue Laws) which prohibit the sale of alcohol to take away after 9:00 pm Monday to Saturday, or at all on Sundays. What’s more, you can only buy carry-out alcohol from liquor stores. Being the moderate drinker that I am, these laws will cause me no problem. After all, the bars are open till late.

While on the Transit back to YDS I notice a chap sitting opposite us with a face flannel draped on his head. Said chap is a rather large, muscular, swarthy fellow, about as wide as he is tall. He is dressed in denim dungarees and I can see cornrows sticking out from under the rear of the flannel. I suppress my impulse to ask him about this mysterious fashion statement and leave the bus none-the-wiser.

Back at the apartment we have an early night and manage to drift off to sleep. Despite the bloody crickets.

Friday 22nd August 2008

The alarm goes off at stupid o’clock. I stumble about getting ready, gulp down a can of Kick (Tesco’s imitation Red Bull) then blob in front of the TV with a cuppa waiting for Dad to come and pick us up. The lead story on the news is about a plane crash in Spain. How very auspicious. I turn the TV off.

Dad gets us to Birmingham airport in plenty of time and we join the rather long check-in queue. A woman approaches to ask if we checked in online. Mrs G has done this and, being the ultra-organised person that she is, instantly produces two beautifully printed boarding cards and we find ourselves in a queue of one. We pass through security easily, grab a bite to eat and are fairly quickly settled on the 757 which takes off pretty much on time.

The entertainment provided on-board is far superior to anything I’ve encountered before. Each passenger has their own screen (operated by touch) with a choice of free films, TV programmes, music and games, all available on demand. We don’t even have to pay for the headphones.

The screen also enables us to pull up various details of our flight such as altitude, speed, temperature, travel time, etc. The world map flashes up and shows the plane’s current position. This initially causes consternation for Mrs G as she mistakes Mexico for Italy. I help her overcome her geographical inadequacies and all is well as she can now watch a girlie film with complete peace of mind.

The first meal we are served is much better quality than what you’d expect to receive in a hospital. Some sort of chicken dish. Normally, these can be quite challenging to eat as the plastic cutlery usually provided is rarely up to the task of making an impression on the foodstuff. Fortunately, Continental Airlines have provided metal cutlery in a plastic bag. Unfortunately, the bag is unsealed at one end so the knife and fork plunge (sharp side down) into my lap piercing my nadgers. Once the other passengers and I have recovered from the shock of this I am able to enjoy the food.

I start a book called Quirkology by Richard Wiseman which I borrowed from my parents’ toilet. Here I learn the story of serial murderer John Gacy. “Gacy was a sadistic killer who received twelve death sentences and twenty-one life terms for the torture and killing of thirty-three men and boys.” In his spare time he dressed up as Pogo the Clown and performed at children’s birthday parties. Srsly!

As we approach Newark Liberty International Airport we can see the Empire State Building and The Statue of Liberty. We touch down at 12:00 pm local time and are seen by Customs and Border Protection (Department of Homeland Security) an hour later. The folk we see are very pleasant and upon learning that we will be celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary in December state that “Snoop Dogg has nothing on you.”

A mere fifteen minutes or so later the driver from Continental Limousines greets us and we are soon being driven along Henry Hudson Parkway, then through The Bronx and on to Connecticut.

We arrive at Yale Divinity School, New Haven around 4:00 pm and are eventually greeted and taken to our apartment. Although the rooms are furnished we are missing some fairly essential items like bedding, towels, food and toilet paper. Justin (who has brought us to the apartment) offers to give us a lift so we can buy supplies.

We have a quick freshen-up, unpack and rearrange the furniture to Mrs G’s specifications (just what I felt like doing after being on the go for umpteen hours) and then Justin picks us up, gives us a whirlwind tour of Yale and New Haven and takes us to Walmart.

Shopping always perks Mrs G up and $130.00 later we have enough stuff to get us through a couple of days. Justin drops us off, we make the bed, have a cuppa and finally settle down around 9:30 pm (2:30 am UK time) to sleep.

And then we hear the crickets. BASTARDOS!!!