~Garret
Today was a day full of things (duh!).
I certainly did not expect that this morning when I woke up feeling like my body was on strike.
It has been suggested to me that this week, after my superhuman trials in peak district , would be a good week to get into running.
It’s good to have friends that actually care enough to take time and suggest things that think would make me feel better. Too bad they don’t know that my kneecaps hurt when I think about moving.
But it was a good day nonetheless.
Right now I am sitting in our back yard, on my own, smoking and finishing up tonight’s Ouzo, two things I haven’t done for quite some time, I am admiring the purple Manchester sky and listening to distant sirens, cars and trains, all while updating this blog through the power of wireless internet.
Humans have created some cool shit, haven’t they?
So anyway,today we did a sort of Greek food night, Jana invited a friend of hers, Ioanna, that had studied in Mitilini, of all places. In the department of Θάλασσα. She graduated in 2006, the year I arrived in Lesvos so we did not meet there, (timeline-wise it is possible that she has met Housemaster, something that makes my brain doubt that there are more than 6 people in the world) but talking about Marush, Mousiko , Hotspot and LaZy Fish was something I did not expect to do here. Come to think of it she is he first Greek person I’ve met in Manchester.
My impression of Greek people abroad is not the best. They feel way too nostalgic about Greece, way too smug to be Greek and way too keen to bunch up and group with one-another.
These are the reasons I have not pursued any meetings with my compatriots.
But contrary to all my simplistic stereotypical expectations Ioanna seemed like a cool girl.
Aaaaaaaaaanywho, mission today was simple: Create a Greek-ish food to add to tonight’s menu.
After an extensive search in Turkish/Mediterranean/Asda places, it was in Lidl ( αν είναι δυνατών) that I found Ouzo, Feta and other stereotypical Greek stuff that I somehow fashioned into a Ntako-but-with-pita bread instead, that I must admit, I was really proud of.
Jana made some delicious spanakopita without spinach and Andy , one of my flat mates ,made a proper spicy stifado.
I also found out today that Andy, who had studied Marine Sciences, the same as Ioanna, has been to Glyfada, in the sea turtle shelter, I went there during a school trip, I remember petting a sea turtle’s back. One of the people that live in the same house that I ended up living in after meeting Jana in Italy was at the same spot as me all those years ago.
How.
Weird.
Is.
That?
After our delicious feast we played Small World, a board game whose title now seems eerily fitting.
P.S. I am no sure if this is a global thing, but here Coca Cola has a description on its label reading:
Sparkling Soft Drink with Vegetable Extracts.
I chuckled.
P.S.2 I love Coke.
P.S.3 The soft drink, not the drug.
P.S.4 I have not tried the drug, but I am not sure I would want to.
~Garret
The reason there was no update yesterday was that my [insert body part] hurt.
The day started with a plan, Jana suggested we go and hike in the nearby Peak District, a hilly area near Manchester, now you probably know that already but my relationship with my body and any physical exercise is like the relationship river ducks have with Mt. Everest.
Jana asked me, the day before “how much do you feel like walking?” a question I was, at the time, not prepared to answer (Somehow giving an answer like “I ‘unno, from here to the bathroom when the need arises” did not feel like a proper answer to what was asked) so I shrugged and said that “I like walking! I don’t mind!” proudly remembering that one time that, out of my unwillingness to pay 8 euros for the taxi ride from the airport to Mitilini, I walked 6-7 kilometers, (when I got home I felt exhausted and proud).
I checked the area that we were going to visit, it seemed nice, green and hilly, like the Shire.
This will be a bundle of fun.
Right now, I am so exhausted, typing these words makes my toenails hurt.
Anyway, we set off quite early, got on the train and got off on a picturesque village where the trail started.
We followed a river for a while, all while being under the shade of some wonderful big tress, passing by old buildings and well maintained pathways. Greeting and smiling at other fellow walkers that were passing by.
This is how things were for about an hour or so. Near the end of the second hour, the trail started to climb (I am quite sure the ascent wasn’t that steep, but in my mind it was near vertical) on the top of which I was well out of breath. I asked for a breathing break where Jana and I chatted about books and nice stuff. I was a little bit embarrassed but hey, we were nearly there, right?
heh…
Soon after we took a break on a hillside overlooking some farms, it was then where I first checked Jana’s very detailed map while munching on some chocolate buttons.
Wait a minute I thought, here are the Ashes, we are here.
But where is Edale…? That’s where we are going right? Where is it, where is it…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Oh.
Oh, here it is.
We are not nearly halfway there!
A mild sense of dread started to condense in the back of my mind, but the sun was nice and warm, the hills were green and the path seemed to go downhill from now on. Oh, how wrong I was.
heh…
We were moving steadily uphill for quite a while I was beginning to suspect that this might end up being a tad less fun than what I thought it would be. An hour or so later during another breathing break we consulted the trail description.
I shuddered when Jana read aloud “…don’t let the relative ease of the trail so far, this is where the hard part starts”. But I soldiered on for a while, cursing my decision to bring my faithful, heavy Kata with me.
Then we entered the really hilly district. I was stopping for breath every 5 or so minutes, my eyes fixed on the ground, not that there was much to see, no cute houses here, no nicely paved paths. Just a rocky, uphill track, quite a few sheep and people that were running up and down
whose ,I suppose well meant, greetings my ears were interpreting as smug, annoying taunts directed towards my huffing and puffing form.
Right before a stone fence that blocked our view of what lied beyond we took another nibbles break, where we sat on a windy hillside that had a very nice view of the trail we followed to get here, and a mountain way behind us in the distance that we decided to call boob mountain, cause of its shape. Which I thought was a bit too loose a name since, many hills must look like boobs. Provided you are horny enough.
I had a sandwich and finished my water and we set off again.
Beyond the fence I saw what I was hoping to see. Downhill slope. No more fighting against gravity, from now on it seemed like a breeze. Our next stop, Jacob’s Ladder, it should be pretty close from what I had seen on the map. So I followed Jana as she started on a path and enjoyed the descent and thought that the worst was behind us.
heh…
After about 40 minutes of gentle descent, a few things started to bother me. For one, there were no runners around us any more. I also thought that we should have passed Jacob’s Ladder by now. I was beggining to question my map reading skills. Had I misjudged the distance that badly?
I also didn’t remember seeing that round hill that was 50 meters in front of us, I am sure I would have noticed such a domed… round… boob…like… mountain…? Oh no… it can’t be.
That was when we realized we had probably taken a wrong turn. A very wrong turn. It took us a while to figure it out on the map. We had taken a 120 degree turn somehow, which means that we had been backtracking for the better part of an hour. Downhill. Now we had to backtrack… uphill.
Something inside me broke. My water was long gone by that point. It is strange how a gentle descent can feel like an unfair ascent when you are demoraliZed and tired. But we had to do it, to get back on track, near where we had our last snack. When we arrived at the point where we took the wrong turn,none of us could explain how we could have missed the right path.
My only theory is that this place is… strange. Like the Bermuda Triangle or a Thinny, shifting, changing with it’s only purpose to trap travelers and wanderers in its treeless, windy hills.
We were now on the right track but this is when my memory starts to fail. The majority of the rest of the hike is a series of images,feelings and bits of conversation with Jana. We arrived at Jacob’s Ladder about an hour+ after we should have. Which was basically a tiny stone bridge over a river. I briefly debated whether I should drink from the water then proceeded to drink and fill my bottle. At that point I was basically a slowly moving machine that processed water into sweat. We passed through a farm and some gates that you had to jump over, making them pretty much fences in my book and then, the first real sign of civilization, a farm that sold ice tea and other beverages. Talk about location and marketing.
We were on the last leg, nearly. After a brief ascent that my exhausted body , like an abused wife, was too broken to complain about, ( even though moaning and complaining was my natural state by that point) we reached the fabled village of Edale, I must have felt what The Hobbits felt when entering Rivendell.
We had about 40 minutes to catch the train back to Manchester, so Jana and I headed in the first pub (also deviously placed right where the path enters Edale) and let me tell you, I have not tasted a sweeter, smoother, more refreshing beer than the one I had at that pub. I don’t even remember the name of the beer. I can barely remember the details of the pub.
But that beer, that feeling, will forever be with me.
The hike, including our detour,turned out to be around 20 Kilometers, it took about 7 hours.
So what did I learn? What did I gain from all this?
I guess I already knew that I am as fit as a bag of crisps, but it feels good to know that if zombies where chasing me really really slow, I could maybe out-shuffle them for about 20 klm.
I found out many different muscles that can hurt though (I did’t even think to look for muscles behind my knees before yesterday).
I also enjoyed reading a map and not just looking at it, but actually needing to understand where I am – A difference similarly felt when doing homework and then doing the same thing in a final exam.
I learned what a jump gate is.
I drank from a river and that made me feel like Bear Grylls for 2 seconds before I had to sit back down again to rest.
Most importantly I realized first hand that the effort put in something makes the rewards all the sweeter.
Unless that particular beer is always that good and refreshing in which case, fuck you, Peak District.
~Garret
Currently my biggest fear, health issues for me and mine notwithstanding, is to return home to Greece without having achieved anything. I know I can dance around what “anything” means (sure, I learned how to cook, kinda) but I know what I mean, so there is no point in trying. By achieving something I mean finding a) the means to stay in Manchester on my own and/or b) a good reason to stay in Manchester.
I can harp on about how “everybody wants experienced workers” and all that, but the truth of the matter is, I don’t feel like I am giving it my best shot. I am procrastinating like hell and I postpone things constantly.
I haven’t written anything for my Leiden entry essay, the distant “summer deadline” is now a very real “less than a month” and my attempts to find work are half-arsed at best.
My own whining about how I whine about not doing stuff is something that annoys me to no end, I can’t imagine how annoying it must be to all those who hear me whining.
I read somewhere that in order to change you need two things: contrast and a catalyst.
The way I understood it, contrast will make you see the difference between where you are and where you want to be. It’s a change in the environment (did not know there was a second N in that word,thanks spell-check!), meeting someone different,and just new experiences in general.
So if contrast is the map, the thing that shows you where you want to go, the catalyst would be the wind (I am thinking sailing here). It’s a drastic, sudden change that becomes the push from the tipping point that will set you on your new journey and that will make you stay the course.
I am quite covered on the contrast part.
I find that the catalyst is missing though.
As I understand it, it doesn’t have to be an external one.
It could very well come from within.
But for me I just don’t see that coming.
Something else must be done.
For all I know all this could be elaborate excuses I am telling myself to justify my inaction.
I am quite good at rationalizing my laziness after all. Maybe it’s just that.
One advice I got and I am currently spinning in my head is the “Just do stuff”, no matter what, just do stuff. Run, paint miniatures, cook,work on a video game, write articles, apply for a job, go for a photo walk, read a book, anything really.
That is supposed to trick my brain into first gear, in the “moving forward” mode, momentum should take things over after.
As much as it pains me to admit it, I have become aware for quite some time now that if I have a stable internet connection, the days go whooshing by. Sure I will maybe read a really interesting article and see one genuinely funny video, but that would be a drop in the daily ocean of data that I shift through.
When I was applying for the NHS, I had to fill out a questionnaire on alcoholism ( Funny story: back then I thought that 1 unit meant 1 can of beer or something so I gladly answered that I can consume quite a few units easily, anyway) one of the questions was something along the lines of “Have you noticed that drinking alcohol affects your daily social functions?”
Now, without being sure, if that question had instead of alcohol asked me about the internet, I think I would have answered yes.
I shudder to think what this might mean and the very thought of cutting off the Internet is something that makes me genuinely uncomfortable, which in turn is further evidence.
Could I be looking at the change I need right in the face or am I looking for more excuses?
~Garret
There can be thoughts sometimes that cannot be uttered.
It is hard to write about this, it is hard to even think about it, thoughts that come as bursts of feeling, colour and shadows of words. Things that feel like phrases but are only 30% spoken word, 40% yellow and purple and 30% the feeling of crashing a bottle, just to mention one example out of thousands. I could never explain this to anyone.
A constant reminder that our brains, or at least my brain, are not populated by words , neat packages of meaning, but a swirling cloud of all sorts of things. All of this happening in a soft smushy meaty thing that has electrical currents running through, electrical currents that do what?
Hold discussions on art, get jealous, laugh at inappropriate jokes and well… everything else you can think about.
~Garret
P.S.1 Yesterday I finished Breaking Bad. It was awesome!
iPad update so forgive the shortness of length and lack of words. Today I was at my first ever sortof-birthday party outside of Greece. It was Jem’s Birthday and it involved a cosplay/sketching event and afterwards drinks and more drinks. It was good fun and socialising, I still don’t know how I feel about cosplaying, on the one hand it is nice seeing people being passionate about something,on the other hand it is a constant reminder of how fantasies will ALWAYS be better than reality.
I also had a mild political argument on Facebook where at some point somebody exclaimed that ” Objectively things are like this: There is the Capital and the Working Class, you belong in one of these two groups and if you can’t see that you are not educated enough”
How can people be this naive and simple minded is something that I still cAn t wrap my head around.
Random remarks of the day:
Don’t call Brits Europeans.
Nobody knows why they have separate taps for freezing and boiling water.
Irish people CAN’T get drunk.
~Garret
That was the plan, honestly. I even decided to the coolest place I could find in order to study, oh yea, for my Leiden admittance essay. As I was sitting down in the amazing historical reading room of the John Rylands Library, I was informed that today was stroke awareness day and that a group of volunteers and stroke victims were here to share stories and raise awareness (as interesting as the thing was, I don’t think there are many things you can do to prevent a stroke so… there is limited good awareness can do)
Anyway, there I met Steve, a former roadie who suffered a stroke 4 years ago. We chatted a bit, it was quite touching.
When I got back home I met the whole crew of the house while I was unpacking groceries. We drank wine, we talked, each cooked and ate his own dinner. It was a good bit of socializing, the kind of which I am not used to being a first-time flatmate and all.
I also used my first Occulus Rift, there was a car presentation in Arndale and they were doing some sort of VR demo with the Rifts.
I must say I was very impressed with the experience. It was immersive in a way I had not experienced before. The fact that you control the camera with your head tricks your brain EXTREMELY well.
I am looking forward to see how VR is going to be used in the future, but for a first try, I was sold.
~Garret
Just finished the fourth season of Breaking Bad, man do I binge on shows or what, and all I have to say about the final shot was “WHAT!?”
Other than I want to comment that a) this show is pretty darn good, I am quite liking its 5 season length and b) this guy Gustavo Fring is eerily similar to a professor I had in Uni and Saul Goodman (the sleazy awesome lawyer guy) talks like Dan Carlin (If you haven’t listened to every Hardcore History episode you should).
So yea, I watched about 5 episodes today, I accompanied them with a bottle of red, the cheapest one I could find (3 quid), it was okey, definitely not crap but nothing to write home about, even though that is sort of what I am doing.
I remember getting vomit-y level drunk after drinking a bottle of white last summer. Of course I opened the bottle when I put Escape From New York on (amazing movie btw, here have a sample of the kick-ass soundtrack , it is like a more action-y Blade Runner).
The point being, I was done and sick before Snake actually finds the President. So I guess either my tolerance is building up, or the fact that I drunk the thing in 5 hours instead of 1 really makes a difference. Take notes, future drinkers.
Anyway, in other news, I think I painted the best miniature so far, I combined my normal technique for bases with my newly acquired cork-base skills and the results are very nice. I have only a sergeant ( painting skin is hard) and a guy with a Plasma Cannon left, after that I will have to move on to my Deathwing squad , my Ravenwing guys and the three “hero units” I have left.
I have been thinking about Dungeons and Dragons lately, well not D&D per se, but another thing called Pathfinder that turns out to be the spiritual successor to Edition 3.5, after the colossal failure that was the 4th Edition it seems like there was room for another product. I wonder if I will be able to find people to group and play with, there are some wonderful online programs that simulate the tabletop feel quite well if I may say so myself.
P.S. No sign of the clean spider.
~Garret
I went back. The body was not there. So either the spider authorities were notified and carried it off, or the other spiders gave it a proper burial, or it rose as an undead spider and walked off.
Or maybe the window cleaning spray was not the best chemical solution to my spider problem.
Today I sent an application out to Manchester Metropolitan University (MMU), accompanied by probably the best motivational letter ever. Ugh, is there anyone that enjoys writing those? And if there is, would I wanna hang out with them?
Anyway, I also made my first attempt in creating custom bases for my Warhammer miniatures. I was quite happy with the results, results that I will share with you in this VERY page. It is made from cork, paints and some paperclip bits.
I also indulged myself and bought Baldur’s Gate II for iPad… It was on sale and I couldn’t resist. As soon as I finish the first game I am going straight into this one, I haven’t actually played it in a long long time.
P.S. I made some pasta today and didn’t even think of mentioning it here.
You can call me Oliver, Jamie Oliver.
~Garret