I'm Surly, He's Surly, We're All Surly!

The bus was our chariot today, and it took us to Cambridge. The town itself was fun; the drive, not so much. The English countryside is initially beautiful but has become repetitive at this point, especially due to their lack of human presence (I’ve seen perhaps two or three people from car or train). Furthermore the bus was crowded (of course it was!) And it seems that all English bus drivers (for public buses; our coach bus drivers have been great) are surly. For instance, today, in a retarded move by yours truly, I forgot to get my student discount. As £2 is a significant sum, I asked the bus driver whether he could refund the difference.

“No. Tough luck.” This is delivered with an almost Clint Eastwood type snarl. Ah, putting the customer first. (One of my friends adds that, after she handed him money and a student ID, he uttered the immortally surly line: “Talk to me.” Apparently he is auditioning for Jack Bauer’s role.)

The bus drive itself was unpleasant, as the seats were too narrow to allow proper reclining and sleeping, and the day became hot and the bus stuffy. It was nearly unbearable. We made it, though, to Cambridge

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I have a bad book addiction. This is the main thing I learned from Cambridge. Oh, there are beautiful buildings and a wonderful river. Oh, I could speak of the wonderful fresh squeezed orange juice I had. But, no, my terrible book addiction is the salient point to take away here. I just bought a book, Raymond Carver’s Where I’m Calling From, yesterday. And yet, I felt the need to patronize several used book stores and to tempt myself by wondering (hmm...£5 for George Orwell’s collected essays from 1944-6....wow, there are some great essays here...hmmm....) These are the actions of an addicted, addicted man.

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A note on the buildings. The Cambridge colleges are gigantic in comparison to their Oxford relatives. One of them, King’s College, dominates an entire city block, for example. Their architectural style, besides being larger, is also more open to viewers from the outside. Aesthetically, the colleges of Cambridge win the day.

However, when you look at the aesthetics of the town itself, I prefer Oxford. Oxford seems better planned: the city center is very identifiable and an actual center; Cambridge’s is one only in name. Furthermore, for the pedestrian, it seems that irrelevant office-type buildings are too often mixed with relevant buildings. To Cambridge’s credit, it utilizes its river better, but in terms of urban planning, Oxford is superior. One curiosity: for about two blocks, one of the streets of Cambridge adds gutters to the sides. I’d heard of that in medieval but not modern times.

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Once you travel enough within England, you begin to notice something very strange. I started, on a lark, counting American fast food chains (Pizza Hut and Starbucks are champions by my very unofficial count, with McDonald’s and Burger King a close third). But, curiously, I’ve begun to notice the number of British chains. There’s a pizza place, Pizza Express, that is everywhere in England and is achieving near-Starbucks ubiquity in London. There’s a charmingly named sandwich shop called EAT. These, perhaps, do not seem so unusual. But there’s also a fudge chain (which gives out free samples and bills itself the Fudge Kitchen) and a cookie chain. Both of these things are wonderful. There’s a bar chain, ALL BAR ONE, and another called “Old Orleans” (that pushes the food of “the South” on you, and tells you that Jambalaya is “in the tarot cards for you.”) The bar chain seems genuinely odd to me, and while the dessert chains are not unusual, their atmosphere doesn’t seem to suggest a chain. I was genuinely (and pleasantly) surprised when I encountered a Ben’s Cookies in Bath; it had never occurred to me that it was a chain. I have no idea what this means, if anything. Perhaps the English do atmosphere better?

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Sorry to let the real world intrude upon this, but can’t we all agree that when the majority of a nation approves of attacks on our troops, that it’s time to get the hell out? It’s difficult enough when a determined minority wants us gone; why the hell should we stick around and piss off a majority?

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Unofficial survey: The New York Yankees are the most popular American team of any sport if worn baseball caps are a reliable measure of popularity. Interestingly, although I’ve seen several Red Sox caps, they have all been worn by white people, whereas Yankees caps are predominantly sported by minorities.

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PSA: Americans, please stop wearing fanny packs abroad. It’s getting embarrassing.