Shallow Pockets: Shallow Pockets Brimming with Spandex and S'mores

Yesterday officially marked three months until I touch back down on American soil. New York, New York baby. That also means this experience has reached it's halfway point. And I have been a UK resident for a whopping 99 days. When you break it down like that it sounds like such a big number.

This trip has been... such a mixed bag. My idealization fell away in the first month. My loneliness and homesickness [though still occasional, of course] fell away in the second. But what major breakthrough has the third delivered?

Honestly that's something I've been asking myself for the past two weeks and I haven't been able to decide on an answer. I think, if nothing else, this past month has led me to be more conscious of... being. I've been making an effort to be more observant and directive of my internal dialogue and it's been intriguing noticing how that simple consciousness affects my external presence and interactions and reactions. I know that's all very cryptic... Basically I, just like this adventure, am a serious work in progress.

Speaking of which- this past weekend was a handful of firsts for me on said adventure.

I recently started training with a club volleyball team in Manchester called the Marvels. Watching the Olympics got me all worked up about how much I missed just getting out there and moving and competing. It's been four years since I've truly played and it was like a breath of air getting back on the court [and finally being allowed to wear spandex in public again- girls at the gym don't find them to be an acceptable choice for work-out gear, I've learned]. After practice on Friday we all went out to a sushi restaurant to celebrate one of the girls', Marije's, birthday. I haven't had sushi since I worked at Maki Fresh months and months ago and man oh man my taste buds were a-quiver. And hello saki, I've missed you dear friend! Afterwards I met up with Adam and his best friend Johnny who were also out in MCR celebrating Johnny's last night before leaving for his police course at uni. It is tricky getting home before 6am from the city... lots of walking, double-decker riding and taxi-ing later and we finally crept back into Macc in the early hours. I wish traveling from Manchester wasn't such a chore late at night- I would happily spend so many more evenings there.

On Saturday my Jonny [not Adam's Johnny] took me to his hometown(s)- Stafford, the town his parents currently live in, and Penkridge, a small village inside Staffordshire where he grew up. We went for a run to Stafford Castle- because you can do that here, just run to castles- and I about passed out. Never, ever choose a marine as a running partner when you're already massively out of shape. Jeezeee I was a puss and a half. The castle was really cool to explore though. And what a view those aristocrats had!

Jonny's papa was kind enough to pick us up [for my benefit alone, I'm sure] and after a quick clean up we went around Penkridge and Jonny showed me the pub he worked in while he was at school. I tried his suggestion of pork belly with a pork scratchings topping and black pudding gnocci [just please look up the ingredients... I was being brave] but it was absolutely delicious. Oh and strawberry beer- wha?! A little too sweet for a night out but lovely for supper sipping.
After filling our bellies Jonny surprised me with a camping excursion! We grabbed some warm clothes and headed out. First things first though- I told Jonny he had to try s'mores if there was to be a campfire. They don't have s'mores in the UK, y'all! Nor do they have graham crackers... which proved slightly problematic but we improvised and, while not the best s'more combo I've ever had, it was still as nostalgic as can be.
Before we headed out into the woods Jonny tried to teach me how to drive a stick in the parking lot... MASSIVE FAILURE. I now very much appreciate my automatic, but I will conquer a manual someday! [No pictures of that... I think it was too traumatizing for either of us to consider catching the comedy on film.]

We went proper marine-style camping. We wandered through the forest in the dark and set up camp via a tarp, two mats and two sleeping bags. Rus-tic. Even though Jonny did most of [yeah, okay, ALL of] the heavy lifting I still felt like a bit of a badass perched on the undergrowth with my headlamp and my blanket of Jameson.

FIRST EVER S'MORE! He liked them, even though the oat cakes were vile...

On Sunday I met up with Adam at Alton Towers- the UK's biggest theme park. It was so very, very different to the Six Flag's and Busch Garden's of home. First of all, the park is built on acres and acres of wildly foilaged land. None of this selective planting in an asphalt jungle- it was lush and overgrown and magnificent. The land was once owned by a family of Earls and they erected a monumental house amidst beautiful gardens and swan lakes. Then the park company bought the land many years later and slowly added one ride after another to it, popping out of the trees and bushes, until Alton Towers was born. We didn't get to tour the home due to construction but it was IMMENSE! We did get to go on the ride that goes through a portion of the old house, though. The rides themselves were a bit short and line jumping is basically a capital offence but there were still plenty of coasters and lots and lots of people watching. Thank god for Euro-style. American theme-parkers are disgraceful.