Where the British Rule

This country is f...ing freezing! The only way to get warm really is to a) wear all your clothes on top of each other, b) go to a shopping mall, c) drink mulled wine or cider nonstop or d) stay in bed.
All of which I did extendedly.

I mean, don't get me wrong, there's a lot to be said about British culture and it's buildings and food as well...as it happens, I am spending a week in Newcastle upon Thyne (in the north of England, that is).

wwhoops just forgot my mulled wine on the stove and while running to save it from boiling (you're not supposed to boil it! Rule number one while dealing with mulled wine!) I spilled nearly all of it in the half-dark kitchen. Great.
Since we're at this subject anyway: while sitting here, England is facing a major breakdown.
It snowed today.

And already people are skidding in snails pace along the streets, preparing for being snowed in buying all sorts of groceries for the next few weeks  and my flight company keeps sending me texts I should please reschedule my flight back due to weather conditions. I always thought people just say that life stops in Great Britain when it snows but no, it's actually quite true.

So, where were we? Ah yes, Newcastle.
Have you ever been to England? Well, just like me, you will imagine charming little pubs with pints of beer and tea and scones and clotted cream, alongside with some castle ruins and hills and so forth.
So just like you, I was looking for all these things when coming here. I had been to London before of course, but that's a totally different cup of tea really. London is not England, like Berlin is not really Germany.

So that's exactly what I found here. Pints of beer, cute little pubs, tea, scones, and of course the freezing part, 24/7. What I was most impressed about was the way the girls dress for going out: the shortest skirts and highest high heels IN WINTER at MINUS SOMETHING DEGREES! Crazyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy...english women really have no feeling for pain. Another thing is that everything is ridiculously expensive. I see a price tag thinking 'aw, that's not too bad' but then realize soon that everything is like half as much in euros as it is in pounds. So a banana is not one pound but one and a half euros. Check that out.
This doesn't really keep me from spending my money like a madwoman, though. I'm on holidays after all, that's what I always tell myself.
Haven't checked my bank balance yet though. Who knows.

Another thing is that British people are the most polite people in the world. They will always go out of their way for you and even when it's you stepping on their toes they'll be very likely to apologize a million times.
I was walking home before, slowly making my way back from the supermarket in the snow covered streets, trying desperately not to slip and fall on my butt (and not to crush my precious bottle of mulled wine that I had just acquired for a horrendous sum of four euros when it's one in Germany, told ya), and you know, as usual keep getting in the way of people (they do not only drive on the wrong side on the road but also WALK on the wrong side of the road!) and find they'll apologize, still, even though I'm the stupid fool stopping them through my German slowness.
Very british.

So then, I already thought I liked England, but then we went up to Scotland, Edinburgh for a bit, and I instantly fell in love with the city.
We arrived in the dark, finding nicely illuminated castles and big houses, a glittering winter fare in the middle of town and a hostel in a 150 year old castle that has lounging areas and fireplaces and knights arms standing in the corners and stuff. How much cooler can it get?

Tried my first real whisky there, too. You know, Scotland and Whisky sort of go hand in hand (appearently there's a place where there's like one distillery per five people in that village) so I had to try it, right? Ended up being a real fun night, but I don't think I'll do that again very soon.

On the free walking tour (I love free walking tours!) we learned that Edinburgh was the city that J.K. Rowling started writing Harry Potter. And we found out why people get 'shitfaced' when they're drunk:
In medieval times used to just throw their poo out of the windows, right? So usually, in order not to give a very stinky shower to innocent bypassers, they shouted before they did so. If it happened that these bypassing people were drunk, they'd go like 'whassup?' and look up. Right when the shit came.
And they were shitfaced, quite literally.


Alrightie, that's it for the moment. I'll see if I can ever leave this place or if the airports are shut down now for winter. For now I'll just