Nottingham

Saturday morning, I was sitting in Starbucks in Nottingham, the same Starbucks that I had so often frequented in college. I was sitting at my table, in my chair, severely victimized by having far too much fun at Ye Olde Trip the night before. Gingerly sipping coffee and force-feeding myself a banana nut muffin, for one second, I became infested with a bout of self-pity. All I really wanted to do was walk outside, catch a 77 bus, and head home. But since I couldn't, I shoved that muffin down, grabbed my coffee, and walked out to find my two other companions.

Of course, such feelings were to be anticipated in Nottingham, my home for nearly 9 months. I'm happy to say that the entire weekend wasn't spent in self-pity and faux-homesickness, far from it actually. It felt so wonderfully liberating to be comfortable in a city, to know the ins and outs, to know what to do and where to do it. I didn't have to carry around a map, I didn't need to consult bus schedules, it was just great. And although it felt incredibly wrong to stay in a hostel when I was only a short bus ride from the flat, the inconvenience was made up a little by the fact that the hostel was run by the most gorgeous woman in all of England.


Saturday, we took a Transpeak bus into the nearby Peak District, which is a huge national park. Getting off at Matlock, we found a public footpath which lead up into the cliffs above the River Derwent. Up on the cliffs, we spotted this huge castle looking building in the distance, and we spent a very sweaty, very steep, hour or so struggling to reach the summit. Only when we descended back down into the valley did we realize just how high we had climbed. The joy of being outside, of being in a green countryside, was more than I can express in words. London is a fantastic city, really it is, but if you really want to experience England, you really need to get into the countryside. It is quite stunning, especially when you've been locked in the greyness of London for a good 2 and a half weeks. I think the best part was that we couldn't hear any cars. A great way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

This morning, I took the tram to the flat, like I did so many times before. It was a bit surreal to stand in the flat courtyard, unable to get inside. But as I thought about it, the more I concluded I wouldn't have wanted to go in anyways. Simply put, the flat was a home for a certain family, and it wouldn't have been right to enter without that family. So I took a few photos, thought of all the memories, and left. It was nice.

For sure though, today's highlight for me was being able to go to The Lion for a couple pints of local real ale, a fantastic Sunday roast lunch, and some live jazz. I had unequivocally stated to Kevin and Erik my belief that The Lion was the greatest bar/pub/drinking establishment/social place in the entire world, and I felt extremely vindicated this afternoon.

In conclusion, it felt so good to get out of London. That trip into the Peak District was just what the doctor ordered, both physically (my legs are still aching) and mentally. And although Nottingham was certainly full of old memories, it wasn't bittersweet or anything like that. It just felt like home. I was disappointed to learn that Starbucks' muffins weren't nearly as good as I remembered, and it appears that Thirsty Boozers is no more. But other than that, it's still the same, still hanging on.

BTW, I uploaded some photos onto my photo site, linked to the left. They're under the album "Nottingham 2009."