Day 189: A Working Vacation

CN Tower in Toronto

If it wasn’t for the three large screens playing the hockey game, the Irish pub would almost feel authentic. There are certainly enough signs advertising Guinness, and the waitress’s accent sounds foreign yet familiar. Still, the ceiling is a tad too high, and the mirrors on one wall make the building appear airy and spacious, nothing like the quaint cramped spaces I got used to in Ireland and Scotland.

Of course, I’m not in Ireland, or the UK. I’m in downtown Toronto, halfway between Ottawa and London. I’ll be “home” in a few hours (still not quite sure what that word means) but for now I’m enjoying the last meal of my working vacation, courtesy of Western University. Gotta say, the food-allowance part of going to conferences is definitely something I could get used to.

Where have I been these past few days? In Ottawa, at the 21^st Annual Underhill Graduate Student Colloquium, hosted by the History Department at Carleton University. The conference was centered around the idea of performing history, so I presented a paper on dance in Ben Jonson’s 1609 Masque of Queens, a court performance where the dance styles were very much tied to political opinions.

Exhibit at the National Gallery in Ottawa 

I’d never presented a paper before, so I can’t say I wasn’t nervous, but this colloquium was pretty much the ideal place for a first presentation. It was an extremely supportive forum for graduate students to present their research—the conference was fairly evenly divided between MAs and PhDs, there were a fair number of universities represented (UNB, U of T, McMaster, Western, and UBC, to name a few), and projects outside of straight history were definitely welcome (such as Art History, Medieval Studies, Digital Humanities, and my field, English). The other conference attendees were extremely friendly, the other papers presented (41 in all) were fascinating, and the question periods at the end of each session generated intriguing discussions.

Catching the train

I presented on the first session of the first day, which was originally something I was quite pleased about. After all, it was lovely to show up on Thursday morning, present for fifteen minutes, and then enjoy the rest of the conference stress-free. However, since the conference was such a supportive environment, it was too bad that I presented so early, before many people had shown up. There were only ten other people in the room when I gave my talk, which I’m told isn’t a poor showing for an academic conference, but the rest of the panels I attended later in the day had 20-40 attendees and a much more energetic question period.

Still, it was a fantastic experience to tell other people about my research. After all, up to this point, no one except my professors, my mother, and my best friend have ever read anything academic I’ve written, so an audience of ten actually represents a 333% increase. I loved standing in front of the room, presenting my ideas to a group of people, however small, who cared about what I was talking about and who were all working on equally fascinating projects. Underhill may have been a great conference to start with, but it certainly won’t be my last.

Day 127: The Upside to being Ignorant

Sometimes it helps to be a small, confused, Canadian girl.

I'm on a train from Heerenveen, in Friesland (a northern province of the Netherlands)  and I'm heading down to Amsterdam for a few days. While I love the holland train system (fast, comfortable, understandable) I don't like their method of buying tickets. To buy a ticket online or at a ticket machine at the station, you have to have a Dutch bank card.

Obviously, I don't have a Dutch bank card, and neither my British nor my Canadian Visa cards work in the machines. So that means I have to buy tickets at the office and pay an extra 50 cents fee.

That's fine with me, except... the Heerenveen train station doesn't have an office. There're just ticket machines, which my cards don't work in, and which don't accept cash.

So there I was, in Heerenveen, with a bundle of cash in my pocket and no way to convert it into a train ticket. I asked the lady at the convenience store what I could do, and she said to buy a ticket on the train. This worried me, because I had heard that you couldn't buy tickets on Dutch trains like you can on British ones. However, I really had no option, other than accosting someone at the station and asking them to buy me a ticket. 

I got on the train and waited nervously. In fact, I even considered sitting in the bathroom the entire 1.5 hour train ride to avoid the conductor... 

Soon enough, he showed up. I was closest to the door, so he walked right up to me.  I asked straightaway "Can I buy a ticket?" He just looked concerned, said he'd come back to me, then went and collected tickets from all the other passengers in the car.

I sat there and prayed until the conductor came back and sat across from me. He asked me why I was in holland, then explained that in the Dutch system, to buy tickets on the train costs an extra fine of €35 (approximately $50). Certainly not what I wanted to hear!

However, he then said that, since I hadn't known about the rule, he would get me my ticket and waive the fee! So I paid him in cash (he even managed to give me change) and thanked him profusely.

And that is reason #10987 why it pays to be a small, confused, Canadian girl. Because train conductors take pity on you and don't fine you. 

Dank u wel, Mr. Train Conductor. 

Day 109: I'm [Not] Going Home For Christmas

As I write this, I'm sitting on a train between York and Newark, on my way to Nottingham. I left St. Andrews early this morning, and I won't be back until the end of January. In the next month and a half I'll be visiting as many as ten countries... but Canada won't be one of them.

Do I mind not going home for Christmas? Yes, of course. Whenever my Christmas playlist gets to 'I'm Going Home for Christmas' I can't help but feel a little sad. For the first time in my life, I won't be there for the Christmas crackers, or the 'rounds' of presents, or decorating the tree. With Christmas being such a family-oriented holiday, I can't help but wish that I was going to be at home for it.

But... I'm okay that I'm not. At this point in my life, it just made so much more sense for me to stay on this side of the pond. Money was a big factor (my month-long Europe tour will cost less than the flight home), as was travel time. If I went back to Canada for three weeks then I'd only have two weeks for travel, which isn't near enough for everything I want to see.

Finally, it would just feel odd to go home now. I've settled in over here. For a year, I'm living in Scotland. The year is supposed to be all new, and a challenge, and an adventure. To go back to Canada during that year, back to everything familiar, would somehow feel wrong.

Christmas will be different this year, but then again, it's a different sort of year. I'll be in Nottingham, with my great aunt and uncle, so I'll still be with family, just ones I don't know that well (yet!). Then I'll be in London over New Years, watching the fireworks, which will likely be more exciting than playing board games at home. ;) And then, instead of sitting at home enjoying a PEI winter, I'll explore Europe for a month.

At this point, I'm just excited. I'm sad I won't be home over Christmas, but I'm still glad I'm not going back. I'm ready to meet more people and see the world. I'm ready for a 'different' Christmas.

Day 80: England!

I'm in England.

We've just gone through Newcastle and York and a whole bunch of other places, and in just over an hour we'll be in London.

I'm so excited. Back when it was actually light and I could see the countryside, I just couldn't stop looking out the window and smiling. The train ride from Edinburgh to London is just so gorgeous. It goes right along the coast, presenting some lovely views of the ocean.

It's dark now, so I can't see much, but whenever we go through a city I can catch a glimpse of some of the larger buildings, like a church with stained glass windows lit up. I'm a little sad that I'll arrive in London at seven pm, so I really won't be able to see much, but I can afford to wait until tomorrow.

But... I'm in England. It really shouldn't be this exciting; after all, I've been in the UK for the past three months. Still, there's something exhilarating about entering a new country.

It's not just any country, either. It's England, the country where all my favourite authors lived. The country where my grandparents came from. The country I've wanted to visit my entire life.

I can't believe I'm here. The odd thing is that, despite how this is all completely new to me, it still feels like coming home. This is where my roots are. Maybe I'm Canadian, but my ancestors (well, on my dad's side) were English. I'm going back to where my family came from.

London should be amazing. The purpose of my visit is to attend the Doctor Who fiftieth anniversary convention this weekend (which means I get to see Matt Smith and Colin Baker and so many other cool people... Jealous yet?) but since I'm here all the way until Monday I'll get to do a lot of other things too, like hopefully see some plays, visit the British museum, and see some landmarks like Big Ben.

I just can't stop saying this.... I'm so excited! This trip is, quite literally, a dream come true. By the time I post this (no wifi on the train, so gotta wait until I get to the house of the friend of a friend who I'm staying with to post this blog) I'll be in London. I can't wait.