Henges, Circles, Barrows & Feet, All Of Stone - Salisbury & Avebury, United Kingdom, 26th Nov 2006

The Stonehenge, which I've read make for an underwhelming visit because of the throngs of visitors it attracts. The thing I've learnt is to only read up on where the attraction is, how to get there and when it opens or closes, and to leave everything else for the senses to decide.

A henge is a circular space ringed on its circumference with large stone slabs, within which rituals were conducted by the people who ordered its construction. Stonehenge, therefore, is a rather unimaginative name, if you think about it.

There were also people who were lining up the fence by the main road for a shot of the Stonehenge, and consequently saving on four quids of entrance fee. I'm not griping here (having parted with four quids to get a closer view of the Stonehenge) but I'm of the opinion that having travelled so far, four quids should be the last thing on their minds.

Yes, I tried to chew up one of England's oldest monuments. And no, I didn't get indigestion.

The stone circle at Avebury, which is a two-hour bus ride away from Salisbury where the Stonehenge is located. The ruins at Avebury covered a larger area than at Salisbury, and it took us a good three hours to take in everything, after which it was nearly dark. Also, because Avebury is so abominably hard to get to, there're so few people apart from the local residents taking their evening strolls, who aren't very many to begin with.

The watery conditions which blighted our three-hour stint in Avebury, contributed in no large part by a persistent, unabating drizzle that began with the day a good seven or eight hours before. The rains turned the dirt tracks which we were supposed to use into little creeks, and this, believe it or not, was supposed to be one of those paths pointed out on the map that we bought.

Silbury, the largest prehistoric manmade mould in all of Europe. We had planned to get all the way to the foot of the hill, but were thwarted by the marshes which stood between there and us, enlarged by the rain which had fallen earlier on. Our foray into the wilderness ruined one or two photographs as well, as occasioned by an elderly man who waited patiently for us to get out of his angle. I think he would have given us a great big scowl if he hadn't his camera to operate.

When given a map, always stick to the trails which have already been marked out for you by the wisdom of those went before you. If you don't, you will end up with wet socks, wet shoes and very cold feet.

And that isn't my finger.

Long Barrow, a burial chamber of sorts for the Neolithic chieftains. A barrow is a tomb raised of earth and stone, and used extensively by the prehistoric peoples of Europe, and the Celts after them. It was a very spooky affair, stepping inside, as there were nothing but one or two candles to light the way, whose precarious flames flickered like will o' the wisps and disappeared momentarily into tiny glows whenever the wind blew, only to burn again when it withdrew. Wind and darkness are not the best companions in a lightless chamber bereft of central heating.

Shuttling Between Guildford & Greenwich, United Kingdom, 24th to 25th Nov 2006

The first home-cooked, and Chinese, meal I've had in eons, thanks to Gim Hui and his friends down at Surrey(from the left Jacky, Janice, Gim Hui, Terrence), who were lovely people and skilful chefs. I've had a most memorable night - Emperor Herbal Chicken (half of it stir-fried, because there wasn't enough space in the pot to steam the whole chicken), cards, wine and just plain lazing around.

The Guildford Borough Cemetary, on a wind- and rainswept morning. Cemetaries are great places for walks if one desires peace and quiet, not least because nobody's able to disturb you.

Yup, that would be the same Lewis Carroll that wrote Alice In Wonderland and Through The Looking Glass.

A bird's eye view of Guildford. Not exactly bird's eye, but high enough for a panoramic vista. I was told Guildford, and Surrey, has long been London's garden, and many Londoners who seek a weekend getaway from the hustle and bustle of the city head there. Not surprising, for the area looks rather pristine and inviting, without the smog and the traffic and the people that characterises a large metropolis as London.

Gimz, Kelvin (who is his cousin) and Me on the Dockland Railway, heading towards Greenwich.

The view from the Royal Observatory in Greenwich. Yonder is Canary Wharf, the financial district of London. To my left, which is not in the picture, is the line that delineates Zero Greenwich Mean Time, fenced off and locked because we arrived a little too late.

Canary Wharf. This looks like a shot out of the last instalment of the Matrix trilogy, what with the honey-combed office buildings and the white lights. We're missing only some rain and some Agent Smiths.

Cymru-bound For A Weekend, Cardiff, United Kingdom, 17th to 19th Nov 2006

We arrived on the night when the Wales national rugby team was due to play Canada at the Millennium Stadium, without of course knowing this when we boarded the evening Cardiff-bound train at Paddington Station in London. It was still fine until the train called at Newport Station, the first Welsh stop, where hordes and hordes of Welsh rugby fans poured into the train. Once in Cardiff, the whole city seems to have psyched itself up for the match - there was an endless stream of people heading towards the stadium, souvenir-sellers were out in full force on the streets, and those who were not watching the match live followed the live telecast that many pubs and restaurants were showing. Cexiang, our gracious host, wanted to bring us to this restaurant in downtown Cardiff, for dinner, but because the whole place was too crowded, we settled for Bangladeshi curry takeaway, which wasn't half-bad at all.

The Welsh National Assembly, in all due respect a rather modest building compared to her more illustrious English cousin. (I haven't seen the Scottish one, and I would pass a complete judgment once I've been to Edinburgh.)

Breakfast on the cheap and on the quick, in the room which Cexiang's (second from left) friend
very kindly vacated for Gim Hui and I. We had a peaceful first night there. On the second, his flatmates went berserk and kicked up an infernal racket in the middle of the night. We ignored all the noise, of course, though each of us had a good mind to clobber a few heads senseless before the night was over. In the end, a Nigerian neighbour ended the bedlam with a stern reproach, and the peace was kept till dawn broke.

Cardiff Bay, which previously was a coaling station, where the coal which was mined in Merthyr Tydfil was sent southwards for re-exports, is now a up-and-coming chic and trendy shopping area. The Welsh authorities have plans to turn the bay into a barrage, on which people can wind-surf, yacht, ski and pursue other watersports. As if to add further legitimacy to the development, they're also building the new Welsh National Assembly here, a structure that resembles a giant training shed.

A kiss in memory of those who perished at sea.

Parallel evolution.

The Millennium Stadium, where FA and League Cup Finals have been played ever since Wembley was closed for renovation. One should realise by now that football stadiums are quite high on my priority list whenever I visit a major city. (That is, of course, if the city boosts a football club of some pedigree.) I wanted to visit Ninian Park, with Cardiff City FC plays, but couldn't because there wasn't enough time. Cardiff City plays in the League Championship, but I've been supporting them ever since they were in the Third Division ten or so years ago.

Wandering Into The Welsh Wild - Brecon Beacons National Park, United Kingdom, 18th Nov 2006

The Welsh countryside was infested with their like! It'll be truly horrendous if sheep were endowed with any more intelligence than they currently are - I can't imagine the amount of mischief they can achieve if they put their minds (supposing they had more brains) and numbers to it. But sheep are really docile creatures, and excellent followers. We had one company-size worth of sheep fall in before us when we were simply standing by the pen looking at them. (Of course we were doing more than just that, we were baa-ing aloud all the way.)

The River Usk, which we followed for a considerable while in our aimless tread through Brecon country.

If you look down at Wales from the top of a hill, you'll see a patchwork of fields stretching as far as the eye can see, very much like a green quilt cover on a very large bed, and a very pretty sight as well!

A farm on the hill where we were pursued by dogs. The path you see in the picture forked somewhere on the horizon, and Gim Hui and I split up to see where each branch led towards. He found that the path led to somewhere more conclusive on his side, and shouted for the rest of us to follow. I took a longer time to catch up with the rest because I was some way forward on the other branch of the fork. But before I could rejoin the group or even see the rest, I heard Cexiang barked (erm, shouted) rather hastily, eh ka kin zhao!, the hurried rustle of rapid footfalls on the grass, and the angry barking of two dogs running in the direction from which Cexiang's warning came. One dog saw me, and made for me. I turned and ran as quickly as my legs could carry me down the hill. We were separated for about half an hour, and only progressed when the owners of the homestead drove back and took the dogs into the house.

The canal which flanked the Taff Trail, the track which we followed from Brecon, and lined with bumboats of the most colourful sorts. The trail led all the way to Cardiff, a good hundred or so miles away. Somebody mooted the idea of walking all the way back to Cardiff. I would have agreed, if we had a few more days, and some bagloads of food and water with us.

Towards The Midlands - Nottingham, United Kingdom, 11th Nov 2006

The Nottingham University Park, where the Road Race was held. It was supposed to be five kilometres, although a few people questioned that and said it was really seven. It made little difference to me, whether it was five or seven - I nearly ran my lungs out, and finished twelfth, which I thought wasn't a bad achievement, until of course when one discovers there are only thirteen participants.

The Nottingham University Campus is really large, and situated a good distance away from the main town. I felt it was a tad inconvenient, but on further thought it is probably the case for most other universities in the United Kingdom. Places like Cambridge and Oxford are special because they're a town unto themselves, and convenience is not much of an issue because the university is strewn all across the city.

But I like the university at Nottingham, it has a nice rustic charm to it, helped no doubt by the mellow crimson of high autumn.

All right... Not quite crimson, but about there.

Robin Hood Castle in downtown Nottingham, and I wonder how it got its name. Never got down to reading the description on the plaques on display and all, because I got the impression that all these were but mere gimmicks to draw the tourist crowds.

Ye Olde Trip To Jerusalem, 1189 AD, the oldest inn in England, it says on the wall. This place was indefinitely more significant than Robin Hood Castle was for me, despite us stopping by only to enquire if we could use the lavatory.

Old Friends Call On Cambridge, United Kingdom - 4th & 5th Nov 2006

Autumn in a little-known lane near the University Library (UL). I never knew this path existed until I brought Gimz to see the UL. There's little to rival the pleasure of discovering for yourself where a hitherto unknown place is, though others may know it and may have told you about it before. Not to romanticise it, but Eureka moments are generally quite unforgettable (for a little while at least).

A first attempt at punting, which I must say I enjoyed tremendously. I became so adept at manoeuvring the craft that I can make it turn any direction I want it to save straight. I think my fellow passengers at that point in time were quite relieved to have made the distance without wetting any part of themselves.

Gimz and I, all smiles after I relinquished the punt to a more skilful punter. I think it could have been Junming.

Fireworks at Midsummers Commons commemorating Guy Fawkes' Day. Guy Fawkes' Day commemorates the sheer audacity of this one fellow (with a few other conspirators) to blow up the Houses of Parliament from underneath about three hundred odd years ago. This display lasted about twenty-five to thirty minutes, and I've never seen anything quite like it before, though I've heard there're more spectacular displays elsewhere in Britain.

Ivan, Royce and I, in Royce's room, the Sunday after. It was Ivan's first time in Cambridge, despite having been in the UK for a year prior to his visit, and I had the pleasure of both showing him around and my gratitude at his doing the same for us when Chee Hui and I went down to London a week earlier.