Water falling, and other visual delights:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126130&id=510568119&l=2d9f6d4ecf
Since I saw Iguassu Falls a few years ago, I've always been underwhelmed by other waterfalls, so I wasn't sure what to expect from Niagara. When we arrived (after a mad dash across Toronto to catch the train after an alarm clock malfunction) it was rainy and the view of the falls was predominantly of mist. Like the good tourists we are, we decided to take the "Journey Behind the Falls" tour, and it turned out to be a good investment. Two tunnels take you underneath and behind the falls, so that you can look out at the wall of water from the other side and feel the spray as it thunders past you. You also get to wear stylish yellow bin bags, which is always a bonus. When we resurfaced the weather had cleared, and we now had a great view of the falls. It was really impressive - the Canadian horseshoe falls are huge, and the US falls on the other side were still framed in pretty Autumn colours. After taking a photo or two we headed into Niagara Falls town for lunch to find it a lot like Gatlinburg Tennessee. Fortunately, you couldn't see any of the fast food chains or massive hotels from the falls themselves.
Toronto was also a big hit. We stayed in undoubtedly the swankiest hostel I've ever seen (everything was brand new, fitted out with wooden floors and chrome, with a communal area I'd be proud to call my living room - see photos). We wandered the city, stopping for coffee at a retro coffee emporium in the excellently named district of Cabbagetown. Our visit was rounded off with a visit to the haven of cool known as Queen Street West, where we had heard we could find an authentic fish & chip shop. Alas, it was no match for the chippies of the Teesside Seaside - the fish to chips ratio was too heavily weighted in favour of the chips, someone had tried to gentrify the mushy peas by adding copious amounts of freshly ground black pepper, and they were under the misguided impression that salmon was an acceptable fish to batter. Still, after 6 months of searching it was good to find somewhere that knew what a mushy pea was...
Wednesday, 2 December 2009
Tuesday, 24 November 2009
Whole Lotta Ottawa
More photos:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126125&id=510568119&l=14ee333340
You learn a lot of different things when you're travelling. Like, for example, that Ottawa is the capital of Canada. Many people may already have known this, I did not. In fact, apart from having heard that Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver are really nice places, that they have lots of maple syrup, moose and mounties, before I arrived I didn't really know much about the country at all. Having spent a bit of time here now I can report the following:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126125&id=510568119&l=14ee333340
You learn a lot of different things when you're travelling. Like, for example, that Ottawa is the capital of Canada. Many people may already have known this, I did not. In fact, apart from having heard that Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver are really nice places, that they have lots of maple syrup, moose and mounties, before I arrived I didn't really know much about the country at all. Having spent a bit of time here now I can report the following:
- Canadians are definitely the friendliest people I have met on any of my travels so far. Everyone from bus drivers to people on the street have been lovely and helpful, without exception. Even the customs officials were nice.
- In between the major cities we visited, there is a lot of space. Some of it has really impressive mountains but a lot of it is mainly space. (Editor's note: Rich is unhappy with the use of the term "space" so to clarify, the space consists of flat farmland with the odd house every few miles). This is not a criticism, merely an observation. It has the whole rugged wilderness vibe going on, is quite appealing actually.
- Canadians call soft drinks "pop". This endears them to me as that's what I used to call soft drinks when I was little. Don't know why I stopped really, am thinking of reintroducing the term to daily usage.
- Canada's news channels are much more sensible than those in the US (sorry the US). In fact (and perhaps unsurprisingly) Canada is very English in many ways. Rich was delighted to be able to purchase a Fry's turkish delight bar and a can of irn bru. I was delighted they knew how to make proper tea.
- Canada has a lot of very large black squirrels. See photos for example.
- This may not be Canada specific, but in North America generally I've noticed that movie trailers are excessively long and always give away the entirety of the plot, in quite substantial detail. Pack it in, North America. I might want to see those movies.
Sunday, 22 November 2009
Oh, Canada!
Our visit to the second country on our travels did not begin well. The first day started with a manic drive from Augusta, Maine to Burlington, Vermont which for some reason we had decided would take 3 hours. Unfortunately when we actually looked at the printed directions 10 minutes down the road we discovered it would take at least 4 and a half. Oops. Situation not helped by the fact that we had to drop off one hire car and pick up another halfway in to save having to pay ridiculous drop off charges. We made it to the Greyhound station with minutes to spare, and finally arrived in Montreal where we were supposed to meet the guy we'd agreed to rent an apartment from. Unfortunately he turned out to be either incredibly stupid or a fraudster - either way, we found ourselves in the middle of Montreal on a Friday night with nowhere to stay. Not ideal.
Refusing to be beaten, Rich got us a room at the HI hostel for the night and I tracked down a rather amazing apartment for the rest of the week, if I do say so myself. Owned and recently renovated by an interior designer, it was huge and had everything from a walk in closet and wet room shower to DVD projector, satellite TV, fitness machines and a hefty stash of food and alcohol left behind by the business folk who usually stayed there.
We made the most of our luxury surroundings by doing a lot of cooking and lazing around. In between, we sampled the culinary delights of poutine (chips, gravy and cheese curds - sounds grim, tastes great), made the pilgrimage to Rich's favourite smoked meat sandwich emporium Schwartzs, took in a Halloween lantern competition at the botanical gardens, took many photos at an amazing Chinese lantern festival, wandered around the now slightly forlorn Olympic stadium, listened to stories at an international storytelling festival, looked at creepy crawlies at the insectarium, watched a Montreal Canadiens ice hockey game, cried profusely at Where the Wild Things Are at the IMAX (me, not Rich) and visited the second pirate museum of the trip, proving that pirate museums are, in many ways, like buses.
And so it was we eventually spent a very happy week in Rich's former university city. Well, I was happy until we had to leave. I loved that apartment...
Marvellous Maine
Photos photos:
From Vermont and New Hampshire we headed over into Maine to stay with Peggy and Paul, two of Rich's new Appalachian Trail friends. We had a great weekend - Peggy and Paul were excellent hosts, feeding us pizza and beer and taking us to their beautiful beach and to see the local sights. These included George W Bush's summer house just down the road and the excellently named seaside towns of Kennebunkport and Ogunquit. In the latter I had my first Maine seafood - clam chowder and a crab roll at Barnacle Billys. Yum.
After a trip to the local microbrewery to meet up with some more of Rich's fellow AT-ers Becky and Matt, we set off for Bar Harbour and Acadia National Park with a stop at the pretty maritime town of Camden along the way. Rich was very excited about hiking in the park, which lived up to expectations. We got some great weather the day we went hiking, which was just as well considering there were some tricky sections of scrambling around on rebar (iron rungs embedded in the rock face for the uninitiated) to get to the top of some of the trails. We climbed the Beehive, which was a lot of fun (as long as you didn't look down at the scary bits). After lunch we stopped to sample popovers, a local delicacy that had been described to us as big sweet pastry puffs served with cream and jam. Given this description, I was a bit surprised when what landed on my plate was in fact a large Yorkshire Pudding. Silly Americans.
We'd planned to end the day with a hike up Cadillac Mountain, but the weather and daylight were against us so we cheated and drove to the top instead. Which was just as well really as when we got there I thought we'd taken a wrong turn and ended up in the Arctic. I think there were some great views of lakes and mountains, but my vision was obscured by the icicles on my eyelids... Next stop, Canada.
Thursday, 19 November 2009
New England in the Fall
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
The Other Salem
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=123191&id=510568119&l=8ce6cc17fe
Just outside of Boston is the more famous of the two Salems I've visited this trip, namely the setting of the infamous 1692 Salem witch trials. Having studied early European witchcraft at A-level (not literally, sadly) I was interested to see how the most well known example of the witchcraft hysteria was commemorated. Unfortunately, modern day Salem is a bit of a bad taste bonanza full of haunted houses, Dracula's castles and spooky fancy dress shops, which jarred a bit with the grisly reality of what the town is actually famous for. Saying that, there were a couple of credible attempts to simply tell the story, even if they were a bit hokey. The one we went to tried to teach visitors about tolerance by making a hamfisted comparison between victims of the witch hunts and people with AIDS. Points for trying, I suppose...
Just as we were giving up on the place we happened to notice an old map in one of the museums that showed the locations of several of the victims' houses, the old church and village hall where many of the witch trials took place. It was only when we tried to find these on our new map that we discovered Salem isn't really Salem at all - the place that was called Salem in 1692 is now a village called Danvers several miles away. Turns out the original Salem is actually a quiet slice of suburbia with only discrete informative signs to identify the historical locations and a tasteful mermorial to the victims on an unassuming side street. So I suppose it's not all bad after all.
Just outside of Boston is the more famous of the two Salems I've visited this trip, namely the setting of the infamous 1692 Salem witch trials. Having studied early European witchcraft at A-level (not literally, sadly) I was interested to see how the most well known example of the witchcraft hysteria was commemorated. Unfortunately, modern day Salem is a bit of a bad taste bonanza full of haunted houses, Dracula's castles and spooky fancy dress shops, which jarred a bit with the grisly reality of what the town is actually famous for. Saying that, there were a couple of credible attempts to simply tell the story, even if they were a bit hokey. The one we went to tried to teach visitors about tolerance by making a hamfisted comparison between victims of the witch hunts and people with AIDS. Points for trying, I suppose...
Just as we were giving up on the place we happened to notice an old map in one of the museums that showed the locations of several of the victims' houses, the old church and village hall where many of the witch trials took place. It was only when we tried to find these on our new map that we discovered Salem isn't really Salem at all - the place that was called Salem in 1692 is now a village called Danvers several miles away. Turns out the original Salem is actually a quiet slice of suburbia with only discrete informative signs to identify the historical locations and a tasteful mermorial to the victims on an unassuming side street. So I suppose it's not all bad after all.
Thursday, 12 November 2009
Boston
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=2754957&l=b6adc472bc&id=510568119
I knew I was a backpacker again as I lay awake at 2am in a bunk bed covered in graffiti in a room with 5 fairly smelly men (I'm sure Rich wasn't one of them, of course...) contemplating whether throwing something at the unfeasibly loud snorer in the bunk opposite would be socially acceptable behaviour. After a couple of nights I was back in the swing of things though, largely due to the excellent decision to end each evening with a trip to the pub.
Boston was fun - I got a really good feel for the place. We went to Fenway Park (and looked at it; the Red Sox had already qualified for the playoffs and so the games weren't worth seeing, I was reliably informed). Wandered around the city taking in the sights, tried Boston baked beans (bit too sweet I thought), checked out some blues at the Boston institution Wally's Cafe, went to Harvard and took advantage of $6 meals at a nearby Mexican restaurant. God bless students.
Obviously no trip to Boston would be complete without a pilgrimage to my fellow lawyer Ally McBeal's offices and the courthouse. Sadly, the Biscuit was not in residence.
I knew I was a backpacker again as I lay awake at 2am in a bunk bed covered in graffiti in a room with 5 fairly smelly men (I'm sure Rich wasn't one of them, of course...) contemplating whether throwing something at the unfeasibly loud snorer in the bunk opposite would be socially acceptable behaviour. After a couple of nights I was back in the swing of things though, largely due to the excellent decision to end each evening with a trip to the pub.
Boston was fun - I got a really good feel for the place. We went to Fenway Park (and looked at it; the Red Sox had already qualified for the playoffs and so the games weren't worth seeing, I was reliably informed). Wandered around the city taking in the sights, tried Boston baked beans (bit too sweet I thought), checked out some blues at the Boston institution Wally's Cafe, went to Harvard and took advantage of $6 meals at a nearby Mexican restaurant. God bless students.
Obviously no trip to Boston would be complete without a pilgrimage to my fellow lawyer Ally McBeal's offices and the courthouse. Sadly, the Biscuit was not in residence.
Sunday, 8 November 2009
Bogs, Frogs and Cranberries
Beautiful cranberries:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=123155&id=510568119&l=903c876e7b
I expected to be impressed by lots of things when I started travelling - the Taj Mahal, Niagara Falls, American portion sizes, etc. Cranberry bogs were not one of these things. In fact, I didn't even know cranberries grew in bogs; if pressed I probably would have guessed they grew on bushes or trees somewhere, but I hadn't really given it much thought. Turns out, cranberries are amazing. They grow on bushes in huge bogs, mostly in Massachusetts, Wisconsin and other northern US states and parts of Canada. When the berries are ripe, the bogs are flooded and a special harvesting machine is driven through them to knock the berries off the vines. The berries float to the surface of the bog, creating a spectacular sea of bright red, before the farmers corral them into a corner and more machines suck them up and spit them out into the back of a truck waiting to take them off to market.
The cranberry harvest takes place in late September/early October, and as soon as I saw a photo of the flooded bogs I knew I had to find one and take many photos, as well as get my hands on the brilliantly named Cranberry Bog Frogs, the local chocolate/cranberry/caramel/cashew nut taste sensation. We had expected to see bright red bogs all over Cape Cod, but as our trip went on and the cranberries were stubbornly refusing to need harvesting I took matters into my own hands, hired a car and booked a tour which guaranteed a trip to a fully operational bog. It was great. Pouring with rain and freezing cold, but great nontheless - the plant kingdom's version of the Christmas Island crab migration (well, there were lots and lots of small red things all in one place; you get the idea). See a bit of it for yourself courtesy of Youtube and Good Morning America: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENaPmfJtdcE Crantastic.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=123155&id=510568119&l=903c876e7b
I expected to be impressed by lots of things when I started travelling - the Taj Mahal, Niagara Falls, American portion sizes, etc. Cranberry bogs were not one of these things. In fact, I didn't even know cranberries grew in bogs; if pressed I probably would have guessed they grew on bushes or trees somewhere, but I hadn't really given it much thought. Turns out, cranberries are amazing. They grow on bushes in huge bogs, mostly in Massachusetts, Wisconsin and other northern US states and parts of Canada. When the berries are ripe, the bogs are flooded and a special harvesting machine is driven through them to knock the berries off the vines. The berries float to the surface of the bog, creating a spectacular sea of bright red, before the farmers corral them into a corner and more machines suck them up and spit them out into the back of a truck waiting to take them off to market.
The cranberry harvest takes place in late September/early October, and as soon as I saw a photo of the flooded bogs I knew I had to find one and take many photos, as well as get my hands on the brilliantly named Cranberry Bog Frogs, the local chocolate/cranberry/caramel/cashew nut taste sensation. We had expected to see bright red bogs all over Cape Cod, but as our trip went on and the cranberries were stubbornly refusing to need harvesting I took matters into my own hands, hired a car and booked a tour which guaranteed a trip to a fully operational bog. It was great. Pouring with rain and freezing cold, but great nontheless - the plant kingdom's version of the Christmas Island crab migration (well, there were lots and lots of small red things all in one place; you get the idea). See a bit of it for yourself courtesy of Youtube and Good Morning America: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENaPmfJtdcE Crantastic.
Friday, 6 November 2009
Cape Cod
Piccies:
After a week of sleeping in our own room, eating at nice restaurants and hanging out with people we knew Rich and I realised that this wasn't really travelling and we should probably hit the road before we became too comfortable. So we bade farewell to Regan and Rhode Island, home of the worst drivers in the world (bar none) and boarded a bus bound for Cape Cod.
Before we arrived, I knew two things about Cape Cod: it was the place where Tom Hanks first encountered Madison in "Splash" and it's where wealthy Americans from New York and Boston go to spend the summer in their mansion-like second homes. Given the latter, I was looking forward to seeing some top notch beaches and seaside towns. I was, sadly, disappointed. The beaches were there, but most of them were out of bounds to commoners, as the numerous "Strolling Rights Only" signs in the sand made clear. The beaches I did see were underwhelming at best - the whole peninsula is flat without a single cliff or cove to break the monotony. One spot that is meant to be a particular gem looked exactly like the beach at Coatham (see photos, all that's missing are the Teesside industrial works in the background). Even the towns were uninviting - character-less main streets full of expensive seaside themed tack and Barbour shops. Compared to the (significantly cheaper) highlights of the north east coast back home Cape Cod was sadly lacking.
Nantucket, a small island just off the Cape, was slightly better. We took a bike ride out in search of cranberry bogs (more of them later) and lighthouses and enjoyed pottering round the small town centre which I thought looked a lot like Cheltenham. It was all a bit eerie though, as we had arrived out of season and so many of the shops and restaurants were closed and the enormous houses would stand empty until next summer.
Finally we moved on to Provincetown, which thankfully was a world apart from the rest of the area. Renowned as the best gay summer resort on the East Coast, the town was a vibrant hub of artsy activity, even out of season. The weekend we were there it also played host to the 13th Mates Leather Weekend (sponsored in part by the Provincetown Tourism Fund) which explained the large number of leather clad men we encountered in town. Had a great couple of days there, enjoying the laid back, fun and friendly vibe that was completely lacking further down the road. They even had a pirate museum, home to genuine pirate pieces of eight and other loot that was found on the Wydah, the only authenticated pirate shipwreck ever recovered. Ooh Argh.
Thursday, 5 November 2009
Divine Providence
Photos, photos, photos:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=119082&id=510568119&l=66fd6376b7
And so, dear reader, my time in Winston-Salem came to an end. Sad as I was to leave, the end of the North Carolina experience was also the beginning of The Great Adventure as Rich and I picked up our backpacks, boarded a plane and jetted off to our first stop, the city of Providence, Rhode Island, and the home of my good friend Dr Early.
We spent a week with Regan, relaxing and exploring the city by day before going out to play at night. We managed to cram in a trip to an open mic night at the Everyman Bistro, blues at a biker bar in Pawtucket, dinner in the Italian Quarter, a gig at local arts venue Firehouse 13 and a movie about the wildcard Republican Congressman Ron Paul who ran for President in 2008. The gig at Firehouse 13 was about as good as the open mic acts were abysmal (points for trying, but some performances should not be inflicted on the general public). The headliners were Tallahassee, who use fiddles, double bass, guitars, banjos and piano to create gorgeously mellow indie/country/folk songs you wouldn't expect to hear from a band fronted by a former NFL linesman. For a sneaky listen, follow this link, although it doesn't quite match up to them live: http://www.myspace.com/tallahasseeband The Ron Paul film was fascinating - a documentary showing how his outspoken views on US foreign policy in Iraq, national security, the US Constitution and role of the President gained him an incredible grass roots following in the 2008 election campaign. This footage from a debate between Republican presidential hopefuls broadcast on Fox News (a notoriously right wing US news channel) pretty much sums up his position - if you didn't know better you'd think it was a parody sketch rather than a real televised political debate: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8BB3NrSpRGE
Perhaps the highlight of the week, however, was the day we spent visiting the New England Carnivorous Plants Show (home to a wide array of plants that trap, devour and digest creepy crawlies), before taking waltz lessons at the local Jewish Community Centre. Despite some initial reservations, Rich was soon in his element (well, he smiled a few times) and after a couple of hours we were definitely not completely hopeless. Following our success I'm thinking perhaps some tango lessons in Argentina, maybe a bit of salsa in Brazil... Maybe best not to mention that to Rich just yet though.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=119082&id=510568119&l=66fd6376b7
And so, dear reader, my time in Winston-Salem came to an end. Sad as I was to leave, the end of the North Carolina experience was also the beginning of The Great Adventure as Rich and I picked up our backpacks, boarded a plane and jetted off to our first stop, the city of Providence, Rhode Island, and the home of my good friend Dr Early.
We spent a week with Regan, relaxing and exploring the city by day before going out to play at night. We managed to cram in a trip to an open mic night at the Everyman Bistro, blues at a biker bar in Pawtucket, dinner in the Italian Quarter, a gig at local arts venue Firehouse 13 and a movie about the wildcard Republican Congressman Ron Paul who ran for President in 2008. The gig at Firehouse 13 was about as good as the open mic acts were abysmal (points for trying, but some performances should not be inflicted on the general public). The headliners were Tallahassee, who use fiddles, double bass, guitars, banjos and piano to create gorgeously mellow indie/country/folk songs you wouldn't expect to hear from a band fronted by a former NFL linesman. For a sneaky listen, follow this link, although it doesn't quite match up to them live: http://www.myspace.com/tallahasseeband The Ron Paul film was fascinating - a documentary showing how his outspoken views on US foreign policy in Iraq, national security, the US Constitution and role of the President gained him an incredible grass roots following in the 2008 election campaign. This footage from a debate between Republican presidential hopefuls broadcast on Fox News (a notoriously right wing US news channel) pretty much sums up his position - if you didn't know better you'd think it was a parody sketch rather than a real televised political debate: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8BB3NrSpRGE
Perhaps the highlight of the week, however, was the day we spent visiting the New England Carnivorous Plants Show (home to a wide array of plants that trap, devour and digest creepy crawlies), before taking waltz lessons at the local Jewish Community Centre. Despite some initial reservations, Rich was soon in his element (well, he smiled a few times) and after a couple of hours we were definitely not completely hopeless. Following our success I'm thinking perhaps some tango lessons in Argentina, maybe a bit of salsa in Brazil... Maybe best not to mention that to Rich just yet though.
Friday, 9 October 2009
Chili and Country & Western
More photos of chilis than you're likely to see in the near future:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=112095&id=510568119&l=0807e9f6d2
As we attended and thoroughly enjoyed the BBQ and Bluegrass festival in South Carolina, it would have been rude not to sample the North Carolina Chili Championship right in the heart of Winston Salem. As you can see, people take their chili v. seriously, and we reaped the benefit by being able to sample all of the entries in the competition. You'd be amazed how many different types of chili there are - mild ones, really hot ones, smoky ones, beef ones, chicken ones, veggie ones, beanless ones, ones with cinnamon in (surprisingly nice!) and my personal favourite, ones poured into an open packet of Fritos (maize, wheat crunchy type snacks), topped with cheese and sour cream and eaten with a plastic fork. Someone should really start selling that on the streets of the UK.
Once the votes had been cast (we clearly had good taste, as our favourite won the People's Choice award) and the awards distributed, we were treated to some good ole' Country & Western music courtesy of a Mr Darryl Worley. I'd never heard of him, but my friend Janet informed me he's a bit of a bigshot in the Country world, as his swooning female fans in front of the stage would testify. Our chili 'n' country experience was topped off as we left by the sight of 3 cowboys riding their horses through the car park (field) swigging bottles of beer as they went. Not something you see every day.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=112095&id=510568119&l=0807e9f6d2
As we attended and thoroughly enjoyed the BBQ and Bluegrass festival in South Carolina, it would have been rude not to sample the North Carolina Chili Championship right in the heart of Winston Salem. As you can see, people take their chili v. seriously, and we reaped the benefit by being able to sample all of the entries in the competition. You'd be amazed how many different types of chili there are - mild ones, really hot ones, smoky ones, beef ones, chicken ones, veggie ones, beanless ones, ones with cinnamon in (surprisingly nice!) and my personal favourite, ones poured into an open packet of Fritos (maize, wheat crunchy type snacks), topped with cheese and sour cream and eaten with a plastic fork. Someone should really start selling that on the streets of the UK.
Once the votes had been cast (we clearly had good taste, as our favourite won the People's Choice award) and the awards distributed, we were treated to some good ole' Country & Western music courtesy of a Mr Darryl Worley. I'd never heard of him, but my friend Janet informed me he's a bit of a bigshot in the Country world, as his swooning female fans in front of the stage would testify. Our chili 'n' country experience was topped off as we left by the sight of 3 cowboys riding their horses through the car park (field) swigging bottles of beer as they went. Not something you see every day.
American Footballing Frolics
Here you go:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=2486576&l=2704a5c56e&id=510568119
Anyone who knows me will tell you that I'm not really the biggest sports fan, in fact I usually lose interest in even the most culturally significant sporting events after about 15 minutes of viewing. However, I think I have discovered a sport that can hold my attention - American football. Granted, this is largely due to the fact that there are lots of fun things going on besides the game itself, such as huge brass bands marching around, cheerleaders dancing and performing surprisingly impressive gymnastic feats (it really is like "Bring it On"), mascots riding around on motorbikes (the "Demon Deacon", quite a scary looking character), fighter jets making a flyover of the stadium, not to mention all the chants, songs and rituals they have to keep you involved. Examples of these at Wake Forest, the college some of my Winston-Salem friends attend and thus my adopted team, include the "fight song," complete with complicated hand clapping segments, key jangling ("go home" this is meant to tell the opposition) and the Wake Forest "whoosh" which I can't really describe without demonstrating in person, so you'll just have to take my word for it. Even more fun awaits after the game if Wake Forest win, as the students then have carte blanche to festoon all the trees in the main quad with loo roll. Saying all that, I did actually pick up the gist of the sport itself, after several lessons from Rich and Ryan, and I can honestly say I enjoyed myself and would watch another game. Just not on TV, you can't see the band or the cheerleaders there...
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=2486576&l=2704a5c56e&id=510568119
Anyone who knows me will tell you that I'm not really the biggest sports fan, in fact I usually lose interest in even the most culturally significant sporting events after about 15 minutes of viewing. However, I think I have discovered a sport that can hold my attention - American football. Granted, this is largely due to the fact that there are lots of fun things going on besides the game itself, such as huge brass bands marching around, cheerleaders dancing and performing surprisingly impressive gymnastic feats (it really is like "Bring it On"), mascots riding around on motorbikes (the "Demon Deacon", quite a scary looking character), fighter jets making a flyover of the stadium, not to mention all the chants, songs and rituals they have to keep you involved. Examples of these at Wake Forest, the college some of my Winston-Salem friends attend and thus my adopted team, include the "fight song," complete with complicated hand clapping segments, key jangling ("go home" this is meant to tell the opposition) and the Wake Forest "whoosh" which I can't really describe without demonstrating in person, so you'll just have to take my word for it. Even more fun awaits after the game if Wake Forest win, as the students then have carte blanche to festoon all the trees in the main quad with loo roll. Saying all that, I did actually pick up the gist of the sport itself, after several lessons from Rich and Ryan, and I can honestly say I enjoyed myself and would watch another game. Just not on TV, you can't see the band or the cheerleaders there...
Sunday, 27 September 2009
Cultural Oddities
Photographic examples:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=111335&id=510568119&l=00bf606be8
There are many differences between the US and the UK, particularly if like me you’ve been living in a Southern US state. I thought it appropriate to note some of these differences for posterity:
1. Most people will know this already, but cars are significantly larger in the US, especially in the South where SUVs and pickups are the transportation mode of choice. By way of example, please see exhibit A, the first photo in the set accompanying this post. This is the government issue “car” which my office was given to ride around in for business purposes and which I therefore got to spend quite a lot of time driving. In case the picture doesn’t do it justice, the truck (let’s not keep up any sort of pretence that this is a car) is taller than me. I had to climb into it. It could drive less than 200 miles before needing more fuel and its gas tank is the size of a milk tanker. I called him Titan. I loved that truck.
2. Continuing the theme, some Americans aren’t content with taking a tent or a caravan on holiday, they need a mobile house to sleep in. Fortunately for them, the market is flooded with a wide variety of campervans the size of a rock superstar’s tourbus, and we saw countless examples of these environmentally friendly behemoths motoring along the interstates. Obviously such a monstrosity is far too cumbersome to drive around once you get to your holiday destination, so the savvy American camper tows their SUV/large truck behind it to give them something nippy to run around in. The truly enterprising also take a golf buggy for the mornings when walking 500 yards to the toilet block is just too much effort, but sadly I couldn’t get a photo of that particular setup.
3. I have seen many examples of foodstuffs of dubious nutritional value during my trip. The best examples are probably the frozen boxes of blueberry pancakes wrapped around sausages on sticks. I never tried one, but was impressed with the outlandishness of the concept when I saw them in the supermarket. And if fast food is just too darn speedy for you, you can pick up a box of your Taco Bell favourites in the frozen food aisle and cook them yourself at home. Genius.
There were also some nice little oddities in Winston-Salem that I kinda liked. Obviously the fact it's the home of Krispy Kreme donuts was a constant source of happiness (as the perfect excuse for eating donuts...). There's also an adorable Shell petrol station shaped like a shell (it doesn't sell petrol anymore but is the last one in the US so they kept it for tourists). And if the photo of the tower in this set looks familiar, that's because it was the trial run for the Empire State Building. Enough people liked the mini version in Winston-Salem that they built the full size one in New York. There's some knowledge for you.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=111335&id=510568119&l=00bf606be8
There are many differences between the US and the UK, particularly if like me you’ve been living in a Southern US state. I thought it appropriate to note some of these differences for posterity:
1. Most people will know this already, but cars are significantly larger in the US, especially in the South where SUVs and pickups are the transportation mode of choice. By way of example, please see exhibit A, the first photo in the set accompanying this post. This is the government issue “car” which my office was given to ride around in for business purposes and which I therefore got to spend quite a lot of time driving. In case the picture doesn’t do it justice, the truck (let’s not keep up any sort of pretence that this is a car) is taller than me. I had to climb into it. It could drive less than 200 miles before needing more fuel and its gas tank is the size of a milk tanker. I called him Titan. I loved that truck.
2. Continuing the theme, some Americans aren’t content with taking a tent or a caravan on holiday, they need a mobile house to sleep in. Fortunately for them, the market is flooded with a wide variety of campervans the size of a rock superstar’s tourbus, and we saw countless examples of these environmentally friendly behemoths motoring along the interstates. Obviously such a monstrosity is far too cumbersome to drive around once you get to your holiday destination, so the savvy American camper tows their SUV/large truck behind it to give them something nippy to run around in. The truly enterprising also take a golf buggy for the mornings when walking 500 yards to the toilet block is just too much effort, but sadly I couldn’t get a photo of that particular setup.
3. I have seen many examples of foodstuffs of dubious nutritional value during my trip. The best examples are probably the frozen boxes of blueberry pancakes wrapped around sausages on sticks. I never tried one, but was impressed with the outlandishness of the concept when I saw them in the supermarket. And if fast food is just too darn speedy for you, you can pick up a box of your Taco Bell favourites in the frozen food aisle and cook them yourself at home. Genius.
There were also some nice little oddities in Winston-Salem that I kinda liked. Obviously the fact it's the home of Krispy Kreme donuts was a constant source of happiness (as the perfect excuse for eating donuts...). There's also an adorable Shell petrol station shaped like a shell (it doesn't sell petrol anymore but is the last one in the US so they kept it for tourists). And if the photo of the tower in this set looks familiar, that's because it was the trial run for the Empire State Building. Enough people liked the mini version in Winston-Salem that they built the full size one in New York. There's some knowledge for you.
Racism and the Death Penalty
Photos at the RJA vote (see below), and some of downtown Winston where I did my internship:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=113220&id=510568119&l=9187b60be9
In August I went to the North Carolina state legislature in Raleigh to watch the representatives (MPs) vote on the Racial Justice Act or "RJA." The RJA became law and made it illegal to execute a person where it can be shown that race was a significant factor in the decision to seek or impose the death penalty, either in that person's case or in cases generally in the State, county, prosecutorial district or judicial division where the person was charged. You'd think it would be pretty well established that a person couldn't be executed on the basis of a trial significantly influenced by racism, but sadly that isn't the case. What what I came to learn during my internship is that racism in the American South is still a major issue, particularly in death penalty cases. Lots of studies on have been made of this topic, but for example a 2008 study in North Carolina concluded that black defendants who killed white victims were 14 times more likely to be sentenced to death than white defendants who killed black victims.
I met and worked with Darryl Hunt, a man who spent almost 20 years in prison for a crime he didn't commit, and who would have spent that time waiting to be executed if the jury hadn't voted for life imprisonment as an alternative. His case was so controversial that it was turned into a major documentary which won awards and nominations from Sundance to the Emmys. (See the trailer here: http://www.imdb.com/video/screenplay/vi1928659225/ Mr Hunt, an African American, was charged with the rape and murder of Deborah Sykes, a white woman, in 1984. A witness reported seeing Ms Sykes with "an African-American man" on the morning of the crime and tentatively identified Mr Hunt as the man he had seen. Another witness identified a different man in a first photo lineup, but after Mr Hunt had been identified as a suspect, this witness changed his mind and claimed it was Mr Hunt he had seen as well.
Friday, 25 September 2009
Down in the Deep Ole' South
Tried my hand at being arty with some of these photos:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=111341&id=510568119&l=1c3fa93574
Spent a long weekend in the deep south of Georgia and South Carolina over Labor Day. First stop Savannah, SC. I fell in love with this place - the whole town has a sleepy Old South air to it, described perfectly in the novel "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil" which I reread as soon as I got back to Winston. The historic district is built around lots of squares shaded by huge trees dripping with Spanish moss and flanked by grand old houses with impressive verandas and sweeping staircases. Slightly out of town and on the edge of the river is the gorgeous Bonaventure cemetery where Johnny Mercer (he wrote the lyrics to "Moon River" among other songs)is buried. The main attractions however are the long tree lined avenues and gothic angels and monuments that fill the spaces between them - I think I spent most of an afternoon taking photos there while Rich patiently followed me around, bless 'im.
Charleston is also a beautiful city, but in a much more ostentatious way. As soon as you arrive downtown you're surrounded by upmarket shops, art galleries and restaurants, and the grandest old houses I've ever seen, some of which overlook the harbour which hosts amazing sunsets. As night fell I forgave all of its pretensions when real gas powered lamps flickered into life along the cobbled streets and we took a tram ride through the center of the city. It felt a bit like how I imagine the nicer parts of Victorian London would have been, but with the added Southern grandeur of Gone With The Wind. It was pretty magical. The photos don't do it justice, but I took a fair few anyway, just in case...
To top off our Old South weekend we also took in a Bluegrass and BBQ festival at an big ole' plantation. Cue lots of banjo pickin,' foot stompin' hoe-down stylee frolics and plenty of tasty chargrilled fare smothered in Carolina style BBQ sauce. Nice :)
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=111341&id=510568119&l=1c3fa93574
Spent a long weekend in the deep south of Georgia and South Carolina over Labor Day. First stop Savannah, SC. I fell in love with this place - the whole town has a sleepy Old South air to it, described perfectly in the novel "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil" which I reread as soon as I got back to Winston. The historic district is built around lots of squares shaded by huge trees dripping with Spanish moss and flanked by grand old houses with impressive verandas and sweeping staircases. Slightly out of town and on the edge of the river is the gorgeous Bonaventure cemetery where Johnny Mercer (he wrote the lyrics to "Moon River" among other songs)is buried. The main attractions however are the long tree lined avenues and gothic angels and monuments that fill the spaces between them - I think I spent most of an afternoon taking photos there while Rich patiently followed me around, bless 'im.
Charleston is also a beautiful city, but in a much more ostentatious way. As soon as you arrive downtown you're surrounded by upmarket shops, art galleries and restaurants, and the grandest old houses I've ever seen, some of which overlook the harbour which hosts amazing sunsets. As night fell I forgave all of its pretensions when real gas powered lamps flickered into life along the cobbled streets and we took a tram ride through the center of the city. It felt a bit like how I imagine the nicer parts of Victorian London would have been, but with the added Southern grandeur of Gone With The Wind. It was pretty magical. The photos don't do it justice, but I took a fair few anyway, just in case...
To top off our Old South weekend we also took in a Bluegrass and BBQ festival at an big ole' plantation. Cue lots of banjo pickin,' foot stompin' hoe-down stylee frolics and plenty of tasty chargrilled fare smothered in Carolina style BBQ sauce. Nice :)
Driving the Dragon
Having thoroughly “done the Smokies” we decided to plan a route back to
Asheville & the Smokies
Photo central:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=110392&id=510568119&l=ac1c4121bb
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=110392&id=510568119&l=ac1c4121bb
The road through the Smokies brings you into Tennessee, and the delightful town of
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
Ben & Jerry's, Drive-Ins and Diners
For photos, you know the drill:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=107694&id=510568119&l=23f7bfae90
Having completed ¾ of the Appalachian Trail Rich was rewarded with a visit from my good self and a long weekend in Vermont and New Hampshire. As I may have previously mentioned, Burlington, Vermont is the home of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and thus became our base for the trip. On the first night we tracked down the B&J café and, overwhelmed by the world of new flavours such as Chocolate Therapy, Cake Batter, New York Super Fudge Chunk, Chubby Hubby, Oatmeal Cookie, etc etc we decided the only sensible thing to do was try as many of them as we could fit into the largest cones the shop sold. This was both as messy and satisfying as it sounds, as evidenced by the accompanying photos…
Burlington was a great town to relax in – small, designed for pedestrians (a big deal in the US) and sitting along the shore of Lake Champlain next to the Green Mountains. We happily spent our time wandering around eating ice cream, drinking at the local brewery, mooching around the farmers’ market and artsy bookstores, playing connect4 in a cocktail bar and stuffing ourselves at Henry’s diner where breakfasts for 1 come on 2 full sized plates and the pancakes and maple syrup are to die for. We also hired a car and drove around the Green Mountains (which really live up to their name) and went along to a proper American drive-in movie theatre. This was all a bit of a novelty – you drive your car across a field and up to the screen showing the films you want to see (they’re all double or triple bills), park on one of the grassy hillocks that run in tiers across the front of each screen and tune your car radio to the fm frequency listed on your ticket to get the soundtrack to your film. Although they were showing films like Transformers and Harry Potter, they still play the 1950s adverts with the dancing popcorn and hotdogs that were playing at the drive-in in Grease. Pretty cool stuff.
Obviously no trip to Vermont would be complete without a visit to the Ben & Jerry’s factory, where we saw the dairylicious dessert being made and may have sampled a flavour or several. I think I have found my spiritual home.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=107694&id=510568119&l=23f7bfae90
Having completed ¾ of the Appalachian Trail Rich was rewarded with a visit from my good self and a long weekend in Vermont and New Hampshire. As I may have previously mentioned, Burlington, Vermont is the home of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and thus became our base for the trip. On the first night we tracked down the B&J café and, overwhelmed by the world of new flavours such as Chocolate Therapy, Cake Batter, New York Super Fudge Chunk, Chubby Hubby, Oatmeal Cookie, etc etc we decided the only sensible thing to do was try as many of them as we could fit into the largest cones the shop sold. This was both as messy and satisfying as it sounds, as evidenced by the accompanying photos…
Burlington was a great town to relax in – small, designed for pedestrians (a big deal in the US) and sitting along the shore of Lake Champlain next to the Green Mountains. We happily spent our time wandering around eating ice cream, drinking at the local brewery, mooching around the farmers’ market and artsy bookstores, playing connect4 in a cocktail bar and stuffing ourselves at Henry’s diner where breakfasts for 1 come on 2 full sized plates and the pancakes and maple syrup are to die for. We also hired a car and drove around the Green Mountains (which really live up to their name) and went along to a proper American drive-in movie theatre. This was all a bit of a novelty – you drive your car across a field and up to the screen showing the films you want to see (they’re all double or triple bills), park on one of the grassy hillocks that run in tiers across the front of each screen and tune your car radio to the fm frequency listed on your ticket to get the soundtrack to your film. Although they were showing films like Transformers and Harry Potter, they still play the 1950s adverts with the dancing popcorn and hotdogs that were playing at the drive-in in Grease. Pretty cool stuff.
Obviously no trip to Vermont would be complete without a visit to the Ben & Jerry’s factory, where we saw the dairylicious dessert being made and may have sampled a flavour or several. I think I have found my spiritual home.
Monday, 24 August 2009
Welcome to Winston-Salem
For photos follow this link:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=102722&id=510568119&l=4a28dbf0ee
I am, it transpires, living in a museum. I knew my apartment was in the old part of town and had noticed that people who work here often wander around in period costume and demonstrate olde worlde crafts, but according to the website the Historic Town of Salem is in fact a bona fide museum. To explain, Winston-Salem used to be two separate towns, Salem being the part which the Moravians (Protestants who came over from what is now the Czech Republic) founded in 1766. Winston was founded in 1849, and grew into an important tobacco town when RJ Reynolds founded his first factory here, the home of Camel cigarettes. In 1913 the two towns were officially joined, but in what was Salem (now referred to as “Old Salem”) most of the original buildings have been preserved or restored, and it is in this “living history” district that I currently reside. For those northerners reading, imagine living in the middle of the American equivalent of Beamish (midlanders, think the Black Country Museum). There are tinsmiths, blacksmiths, shoemakers, gunsmiths, bakers and carpenters actually practicing their trades while interacting with visitors and dressing like the original Moravian settlers, and all on or around my street.
Living in Old Salem is definitely a once-in-a-lifetime experience. It really is very pretty (see pictures) and peaceful, and safe. There is also an excellent bakery 2 doors down from my house which sells traditional delicacies like Moravian cookies and sugar cake; a dense bread-like cake soaked in sugar syrup and topped with, well, sugar. Nothing to complain about there. On the other hand, it is a bit weird living in eighteenth century Americana-land, even if there are cars driving around and downtown is only a 10 minute walk away. Surreal is probably the best word to describe it. July 4th was a particularly trippy affair, as I stepped out of my house to be greeted by a reading of the declaration of independence, uniformed infantrymen firing muskets, horse-drawn carriages clip clopping past the house and women in large skirts playing games with wooden hoops. There was also a brass band playing “My Country Tis of Thee,” an American patriotic hymn (so I’m told) which confusingly has the same tune as God Save the Queen. I would’ve protested at such flagrant plagiarism had I not just heard the declaration of independence for the first time and realised that July 4th probably wasn’t the best day to be asserting British national pride. Turns out the Americans were really cross with us back then.
Shortly after I moved in I joined the numerous American tourists wandering around my live-in museum and learned the following fun facts which may or may not come in handy at pub quizzes:
1. George Washington spent 2 nights in the tavern on my street in 1791
2. The tin coffee pot at the end of my street is reportedly the largest in the world (see photos)
3. The Moravians in Old Salem were the first people in the US to celebrate 4th July
4. Moravians celebrate special religious occasions with a lovefeast, a service of prayers and hymns which also involves drinking coffee, eating sweetened buns and lighting candles.
5. The first ever Krispy Kreme store was in Winston-Salem, and the donuts were made using potato flour, which is an old Moravian custom
6. Just round the corner you can visit the Museum of Early Southern Decorative Art. For an exhibition of furniture from a very limited time period and geographical area tis surprisingly interesting…
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=102722&id=510568119&l=4a28dbf0ee
I am, it transpires, living in a museum. I knew my apartment was in the old part of town and had noticed that people who work here often wander around in period costume and demonstrate olde worlde crafts, but according to the website the Historic Town of Salem is in fact a bona fide museum. To explain, Winston-Salem used to be two separate towns, Salem being the part which the Moravians (Protestants who came over from what is now the Czech Republic) founded in 1766. Winston was founded in 1849, and grew into an important tobacco town when RJ Reynolds founded his first factory here, the home of Camel cigarettes. In 1913 the two towns were officially joined, but in what was Salem (now referred to as “Old Salem”) most of the original buildings have been preserved or restored, and it is in this “living history” district that I currently reside. For those northerners reading, imagine living in the middle of the American equivalent of Beamish (midlanders, think the Black Country Museum). There are tinsmiths, blacksmiths, shoemakers, gunsmiths, bakers and carpenters actually practicing their trades while interacting with visitors and dressing like the original Moravian settlers, and all on or around my street.
Living in Old Salem is definitely a once-in-a-lifetime experience. It really is very pretty (see pictures) and peaceful, and safe. There is also an excellent bakery 2 doors down from my house which sells traditional delicacies like Moravian cookies and sugar cake; a dense bread-like cake soaked in sugar syrup and topped with, well, sugar. Nothing to complain about there. On the other hand, it is a bit weird living in eighteenth century Americana-land, even if there are cars driving around and downtown is only a 10 minute walk away. Surreal is probably the best word to describe it. July 4th was a particularly trippy affair, as I stepped out of my house to be greeted by a reading of the declaration of independence, uniformed infantrymen firing muskets, horse-drawn carriages clip clopping past the house and women in large skirts playing games with wooden hoops. There was also a brass band playing “My Country Tis of Thee,” an American patriotic hymn (so I’m told) which confusingly has the same tune as God Save the Queen. I would’ve protested at such flagrant plagiarism had I not just heard the declaration of independence for the first time and realised that July 4th probably wasn’t the best day to be asserting British national pride. Turns out the Americans were really cross with us back then.
Shortly after I moved in I joined the numerous American tourists wandering around my live-in museum and learned the following fun facts which may or may not come in handy at pub quizzes:
1. George Washington spent 2 nights in the tavern on my street in 1791
2. The tin coffee pot at the end of my street is reportedly the largest in the world (see photos)
3. The Moravians in Old Salem were the first people in the US to celebrate 4th July
4. Moravians celebrate special religious occasions with a lovefeast, a service of prayers and hymns which also involves drinking coffee, eating sweetened buns and lighting candles.
5. The first ever Krispy Kreme store was in Winston-Salem, and the donuts were made using potato flour, which is an old Moravian custom
6. Just round the corner you can visit the Museum of Early Southern Decorative Art. For an exhibition of furniture from a very limited time period and geographical area tis surprisingly interesting…
Monday, 17 August 2009
Return to Death Row
Last time I did a capital defence internship I was dealing with appeals, so cases where the person we were defending had already been found guilty and put on death row. This time I’m working on pre-trial cases, and I’m learning a lot more about how the US justice system really works. For example, I hadn’t realised quite how much getting the death penalty is affected by politics and sheer luck. Not only does the DA (district attorney/ prosecutor) decide in each case whether or not to ask for the death penalty, but they also decide whether to offer the defendant a plea bargain, and if so what sentence to offer in return for a guilty plea. DAs don’t have to offer pleas at all and some rarely do as they’re more interested in chalking up lots of executions. (To give you an example, one DA was so keen to get death sentences in his county he’d give out golden lapel pins in the shape of a noose to assistant DAs on his team if they got someone executed. When you consider that most of those assistant DAs would love to take over the head DA’s job or become a judge one day, and that DAs and judges are elected, not appointed, you can see how those lapel pins could seem worth working for.) As a result, who gets the death penalty can become a bit of a lottery. If you’re charged with murder in a county with a particularly ruthless DA you’re looking at getting executed, whereas if you’d happened to kill the same person in exactly the same way in the next county along the DA there would be quite happy to offer you a plea, usually to life without parole. In the US life without parole means what it says on the tin – you’re never getting out of jail. Some would say life in jail must be worse than getting the death penalty, but when it comes down to it you’d be hard pushed to find anyone on death row who’d agree with that.
What this means in day to day life as a capital defender is that your first concern is making sure your client doesn’t get killed. In some cases, like the one I’ve been working on recently, that is pretty much all you’ve got to work on anyway – the client was caught on CCTV walking into a gas station, robbing the cashier and then shooting both her and some poor guy drinking his coffee in the café area. At first I thought this would be a fairly unrewarding case – I mean I’m against the death penalty but this guy killed two people in cold blood, so I didn’t expect to feel too sorry for him. But then I met him and his family, looked into his case and started to feel a bit differently. He’s younger than I expected – he was 19 at the time of the crime and is 21 now, and surprisingly he’s a really nice kid, not the smartass, nasty thug I expected. He’s polite, softly spoken, and pretty clueless about the gangs his older cousins are allegedly involved in (although he’d never tell you that). He was brought up in the projects by his grandma who, ironically, was a tireless campaigner for cleaning up the neighbourhood she and her grandkids lived in. She and her neighbours would go out at 3am taking the licence plates of cars driving through the area to buy drugs, and handing out polite letters to the drivers telling them their licence numbers were being given to the police and asking them not to come back. Seriously. She was on committees, organised rallies and activities to keep local kids off the streets, and was given numerous awards for her efforts. Our client used to go with her handing out newsletters and flyers. He wasn’t even a bad kid on paper – he had no prior record of violence or felonies. None of that makes what he did ok, but it does give the situation a whole new dimension of tragedy.
From the information we’ve gathered so far we’re still not sure why he did what he did, or even if he actually knew what he was doing. That’s what our job is at this stage – to try and find an explanation for what happened to present to the jury. Hopefully that explanation will save his life, even if it is spent entirely inside a prison cell. (Some people have asked why taxpayers should pay for a convicted murderer to live in jail, especially when they’re so young and are going to be there for a very long time. In fact it’s cheaper to pay for that than for a capital trial, costly appeals process (which can easily last 10 years or more) and then an execution). I can’t say much about what we’re looking into, but now we’ve started investigating we’ve found several factors that make him seem much less of a monster and will hopefully convince the jury not to kill him.
What this means in day to day life as a capital defender is that your first concern is making sure your client doesn’t get killed. In some cases, like the one I’ve been working on recently, that is pretty much all you’ve got to work on anyway – the client was caught on CCTV walking into a gas station, robbing the cashier and then shooting both her and some poor guy drinking his coffee in the café area. At first I thought this would be a fairly unrewarding case – I mean I’m against the death penalty but this guy killed two people in cold blood, so I didn’t expect to feel too sorry for him. But then I met him and his family, looked into his case and started to feel a bit differently. He’s younger than I expected – he was 19 at the time of the crime and is 21 now, and surprisingly he’s a really nice kid, not the smartass, nasty thug I expected. He’s polite, softly spoken, and pretty clueless about the gangs his older cousins are allegedly involved in (although he’d never tell you that). He was brought up in the projects by his grandma who, ironically, was a tireless campaigner for cleaning up the neighbourhood she and her grandkids lived in. She and her neighbours would go out at 3am taking the licence plates of cars driving through the area to buy drugs, and handing out polite letters to the drivers telling them their licence numbers were being given to the police and asking them not to come back. Seriously. She was on committees, organised rallies and activities to keep local kids off the streets, and was given numerous awards for her efforts. Our client used to go with her handing out newsletters and flyers. He wasn’t even a bad kid on paper – he had no prior record of violence or felonies. None of that makes what he did ok, but it does give the situation a whole new dimension of tragedy.
From the information we’ve gathered so far we’re still not sure why he did what he did, or even if he actually knew what he was doing. That’s what our job is at this stage – to try and find an explanation for what happened to present to the jury. Hopefully that explanation will save his life, even if it is spent entirely inside a prison cell. (Some people have asked why taxpayers should pay for a convicted murderer to live in jail, especially when they’re so young and are going to be there for a very long time. In fact it’s cheaper to pay for that than for a capital trial, costly appeals process (which can easily last 10 years or more) and then an execution). I can’t say much about what we’re looking into, but now we’ve started investigating we’ve found several factors that make him seem much less of a monster and will hopefully convince the jury not to kill him.
Sunday, 16 August 2009
Lisa and Rich do DC
For photos follow the link:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=90438&id=510568119&l=c2ea4bd1d9
After Regan and I were discharged from the E.R we were ferried to a nearby hotel where we spent 4 days in a bit of a daze lying down, hobbling very slowly between the hotel room, next door restaurant and the pharmacy, cleaning everything I’d inadvertently bled all over in the van (this was much easier than expected, evidently my blood has no staying power…) and wondering how we were eventually going to get out of Nashville. By the end of the week we’d got it together enough to book a couple of flights and while Regan flew home to Rhode Island I also headed north to meet up with Rich in Washington DC.
We spent a great week together and took things very easy – Rich was recharging his batteries for the rest of the trail and I could only limp for around 20 minutes before my leg told me I had to sit down. We still managed to see the sights though (see photos) and my overriding impression of these is that the White House is much smaller than it looks on TV and you aren’t really a former US president unless you have your own very large monument. DC is a cool city, with lots of funky neighbourhoods to drink coffee in or watch the occasional gay pride parade. Ate in lots of great restaurants too, on the basis that we could do this without having to walk very far and the trail has given Rich the appetite of several horses. Tuesday was Rich’s birthday so I took him to a Jenny Lewis gig and didn’t complain when we went to watch a baseball game. I actually really enjoyed the baseball in the end, especially all the theatrical organ music they play when someone does something impressive. The best bit was the mascot race – the Washington Nationals have 5 mascots in fact, 4 being former US presidents who come out and race each other around the field at the allotted time. Crazy Americans.
At the end of our trip we rented a car and drove out to Harper’s Ferry, a pretty, olde worlde town at the spiritual halfway point of the Appalachian Trail, where Rich needed to resume his hiking. Spent a lazy day wandering around the town and along the river, as well as walking along a very short section of the AT itself (although Rich didn’t see the humour in my suggestion that I could now tell people I’d “hiked the AT”). Spoilsport. After another tearful farewell Rich resumed the trek northwards and I drove back to DC for my flight to Winston-Salem, North Carolina, and the start of my 3 month internship with the Office of the Capital Defender.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=90438&id=510568119&l=c2ea4bd1d9
After Regan and I were discharged from the E.R we were ferried to a nearby hotel where we spent 4 days in a bit of a daze lying down, hobbling very slowly between the hotel room, next door restaurant and the pharmacy, cleaning everything I’d inadvertently bled all over in the van (this was much easier than expected, evidently my blood has no staying power…) and wondering how we were eventually going to get out of Nashville. By the end of the week we’d got it together enough to book a couple of flights and while Regan flew home to Rhode Island I also headed north to meet up with Rich in Washington DC.
We spent a great week together and took things very easy – Rich was recharging his batteries for the rest of the trail and I could only limp for around 20 minutes before my leg told me I had to sit down. We still managed to see the sights though (see photos) and my overriding impression of these is that the White House is much smaller than it looks on TV and you aren’t really a former US president unless you have your own very large monument. DC is a cool city, with lots of funky neighbourhoods to drink coffee in or watch the occasional gay pride parade. Ate in lots of great restaurants too, on the basis that we could do this without having to walk very far and the trail has given Rich the appetite of several horses. Tuesday was Rich’s birthday so I took him to a Jenny Lewis gig and didn’t complain when we went to watch a baseball game. I actually really enjoyed the baseball in the end, especially all the theatrical organ music they play when someone does something impressive. The best bit was the mascot race – the Washington Nationals have 5 mascots in fact, 4 being former US presidents who come out and race each other around the field at the allotted time. Crazy Americans.
At the end of our trip we rented a car and drove out to Harper’s Ferry, a pretty, olde worlde town at the spiritual halfway point of the Appalachian Trail, where Rich needed to resume his hiking. Spent a lazy day wandering around the town and along the river, as well as walking along a very short section of the AT itself (although Rich didn’t see the humour in my suggestion that I could now tell people I’d “hiked the AT”). Spoilsport. After another tearful farewell Rich resumed the trek northwards and I drove back to DC for my flight to Winston-Salem, North Carolina, and the start of my 3 month internship with the Office of the Capital Defender.
The Not-So-Great Tennessee Car Wreck
Some people might’ve heard about the unfortunate car crash we had on the way out of Nashville. Everyone involved was fine apart from poor Scooby, Regan’s trusty VW camper who sadly is now a resident of the big campsite in the sky. When I say everyone was fine there were ambulances and fire engines involved (getting out of the van was a bit problematic and turns out even minor scalp lacerations can produce an alarming amount of blood). Regan broke her toe and sprained her wrist and I got a hefty bash on the leg and a rather magnificent cut to the head that needed 10 staples, but in terms of lasting damage there isn’t any thankfully. Anyone who is interested in seeing a delightful picture of my head post-staples but pre-hair washing just let me know. I’m rather proud of it as (a) it looks much worse than it was and so makes me look v. brave and (b) the hairstyle could’ve won me prizes at Halloween parties across the country had the accident been more appropriately timed.
Monday, 10 August 2009
Dollywood & Nashville
Follow this link for photos:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=99244&id=510568119&l=08bc1e4246
Ah, Dollywood. Many mocked our decision to visit Dolly Parton’s theme park, but I think they're missing out – it’s great! In between visiting the Dolly Parton museum and seeing her many and varied stage outfits, tour bus, etc, watching the delightfully cheesy musical she wrote about life in the Smoky Mountains (complete with flying Native Americans, I kid you not), eating corn dogs and curly fries, watching bluegrass bands and line dancers, you can also visit the Dollywood local craft shops where blacksmiths, carpenters and folks practising the age old art of souvenir selling are ready to provide you with a full sized horse drawn wagon or a Dolly Parton fridge magnet. Souvenir-selling aside, the craft preservation area did seem like a pretty genuine set up and even in the tackiest parts of the park it was clear Ms Parton was in no way taking herself seriously. Regan and I agreed t’was a day well spent.
After Dollywood we motored on towards Nashville, home of country music. Again, there’s much to criticise about Nashville – it’s touristy, a bit tacky and the “country” music you hear in the bars is the specially selected “tourists will recognise this” variety. But again, I think it has its charm. Maybe charm is the wrong word, but there aren’t many places where you can spend a day posing with the car from Dukes of Hazzard, wandering round the Willie Nelson museum, learning the real differences between country, blues, bluegrass, rockabilly and folk music before heading to a concert at which Steve Martin is a guest performer on the banjo and then ending up dancing in a seedy bar to Jailhouse Rock. It even has friendly locals who'll give you a ride through the McDonalds drive-thru at 3am when the bemused cashier says she can't sell you a hamburger unless you're in a car. Loved it.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=99244&id=510568119&l=08bc1e4246
Ah, Dollywood. Many mocked our decision to visit Dolly Parton’s theme park, but I think they're missing out – it’s great! In between visiting the Dolly Parton museum and seeing her many and varied stage outfits, tour bus, etc, watching the delightfully cheesy musical she wrote about life in the Smoky Mountains (complete with flying Native Americans, I kid you not), eating corn dogs and curly fries, watching bluegrass bands and line dancers, you can also visit the Dollywood local craft shops where blacksmiths, carpenters and folks practising the age old art of souvenir selling are ready to provide you with a full sized horse drawn wagon or a Dolly Parton fridge magnet. Souvenir-selling aside, the craft preservation area did seem like a pretty genuine set up and even in the tackiest parts of the park it was clear Ms Parton was in no way taking herself seriously. Regan and I agreed t’was a day well spent.
After Dollywood we motored on towards Nashville, home of country music. Again, there’s much to criticise about Nashville – it’s touristy, a bit tacky and the “country” music you hear in the bars is the specially selected “tourists will recognise this” variety. But again, I think it has its charm. Maybe charm is the wrong word, but there aren’t many places where you can spend a day posing with the car from Dukes of Hazzard, wandering round the Willie Nelson museum, learning the real differences between country, blues, bluegrass, rockabilly and folk music before heading to a concert at which Steve Martin is a guest performer on the banjo and then ending up dancing in a seedy bar to Jailhouse Rock. It even has friendly locals who'll give you a ride through the McDonalds drive-thru at 3am when the bemused cashier says she can't sell you a hamburger unless you're in a car. Loved it.
The Great Tennessee Road Trip
Follow this link for photos:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=99157&id=510568119&l=2ecae21185
I’ve always wanted to do a road trip across America, and what better way to do it than in a 1979 VW campervan called Scooby? So Regan and I set off from New York en route to Memphis, Tennessee and wherever we liked the look of along the way. The best part for me wasn’t necessarily the places we stopped at, but the drive itself and the feeling of total freedom that came with it. Kinda like Thelma and Louise but without the violence, crime and death. We covered around 300 miles on the days we were travelling, staying wherever we could find a cheap campsite or motel (or on one occasion a Marriott as it was 2am and neither of those options were presenting themselves). We saw a good bit of small town America and it turns out they really do fly American flags outside their houses and sit on rocking chairs on the front porch (well, a lot of them do anway). We met some friendly helpful people who helped us out when we got a flat tyre on the first morning, directed us to the vendor of a replacement petrol cap after we left ours at a gas station and recommended that we didn’t try the Virginia peanut soup. (We tried it anyway, it was warmed up peanut butter). We also spent some time familiarising ourselves with the names of US department stores and supermarkets, as a key feature of US culture seems to be making all of their shops look the same. Imagine a retail park with superstore-sized identical shop fronts for shops called Kohls, Target, Lowes, Harris Teeter and CVS without any pictures or window displays to suggest what they might sell. Now try and guess which one sells pasta sauce. It took us a while, but we did get to entertain several different shop assistants with our “pretty accents” in the process.
Weather wise we weren’t very lucky for the first few days – torrential rain made driving fun, particularly when Scooby’s windscreen wipers gave up the ghost on day 2 (although it’s amazing how far you can drive once you got used to seeing the road and traffic as if underwater…) It’s lucky Regan is such a good mechanic and that she came well prepared for all the motoring mini-catastrophes. When we got to the Blue Ridge Mountains and the Smokies the rain eased up, only to be replaced by fog. Getting up at 4am, driving for an hour and climbing a big hill to watch said fog didn’t make for the best sunrise experience ever, but luckily as we drove back down the cloud lifted and we got to see some amazing views across the Smokies (and pretend we were in Last of the Mohicans).
It wasn’t long before we got our first taste of good ole’ Southern cooking – grits, (a cross between polenta and porridge) biscuits (scones) sausage gravy (white sauce with little bits of sausage in it), and my new favourite beverage pink lemonade (although still not really sure what flavour the pink is…) One surprising discovery was boiled peanuts – soggy and messy to eat, yes, but also really tasty.
Pretty soon we’d driven through New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland (stopped for cookies), Virginia, West Virginia (sang Country Roads in honour thereof), North Carolina and were headed for Tennessee.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=99157&id=510568119&l=2ecae21185
I’ve always wanted to do a road trip across America, and what better way to do it than in a 1979 VW campervan called Scooby? So Regan and I set off from New York en route to Memphis, Tennessee and wherever we liked the look of along the way. The best part for me wasn’t necessarily the places we stopped at, but the drive itself and the feeling of total freedom that came with it. Kinda like Thelma and Louise but without the violence, crime and death. We covered around 300 miles on the days we were travelling, staying wherever we could find a cheap campsite or motel (or on one occasion a Marriott as it was 2am and neither of those options were presenting themselves). We saw a good bit of small town America and it turns out they really do fly American flags outside their houses and sit on rocking chairs on the front porch (well, a lot of them do anway). We met some friendly helpful people who helped us out when we got a flat tyre on the first morning, directed us to the vendor of a replacement petrol cap after we left ours at a gas station and recommended that we didn’t try the Virginia peanut soup. (We tried it anyway, it was warmed up peanut butter). We also spent some time familiarising ourselves with the names of US department stores and supermarkets, as a key feature of US culture seems to be making all of their shops look the same. Imagine a retail park with superstore-sized identical shop fronts for shops called Kohls, Target, Lowes, Harris Teeter and CVS without any pictures or window displays to suggest what they might sell. Now try and guess which one sells pasta sauce. It took us a while, but we did get to entertain several different shop assistants with our “pretty accents” in the process.
Weather wise we weren’t very lucky for the first few days – torrential rain made driving fun, particularly when Scooby’s windscreen wipers gave up the ghost on day 2 (although it’s amazing how far you can drive once you got used to seeing the road and traffic as if underwater…) It’s lucky Regan is such a good mechanic and that she came well prepared for all the motoring mini-catastrophes. When we got to the Blue Ridge Mountains and the Smokies the rain eased up, only to be replaced by fog. Getting up at 4am, driving for an hour and climbing a big hill to watch said fog didn’t make for the best sunrise experience ever, but luckily as we drove back down the cloud lifted and we got to see some amazing views across the Smokies (and pretend we were in Last of the Mohicans).
It wasn’t long before we got our first taste of good ole’ Southern cooking – grits, (a cross between polenta and porridge) biscuits (scones) sausage gravy (white sauce with little bits of sausage in it), and my new favourite beverage pink lemonade (although still not really sure what flavour the pink is…) One surprising discovery was boiled peanuts – soggy and messy to eat, yes, but also really tasty.
Pretty soon we’d driven through New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland (stopped for cookies), Virginia, West Virginia (sang Country Roads in honour thereof), North Carolina and were headed for Tennessee.
Thursday, 7 May 2009
Permission to enter the US
I have a visa, hurray!! There were times I thought this day would never come, what with being turned down for the cheap visa, having to fork out £750 for this one, chasing the US relentlessly for a training plan to submit, problems with scanners, mistakes with visa codes, worries about Syrian visas, etc etc. Am a very happy bunny.
Feeling for the first time today that I am making real progress with preparations for the trip, having also sorted out a new credit card, bank account (well almost, that's another story), contact lenses and finally telling my clients I'm leaving. This has produced mixed results, with some clearly thinking I've been sacked until I tell them why I'm going, and others thinking going off travelling for 2 years is a bit of an odd thing for their solicitor to do... Everyone has been very sweet though, and should I need somewhere to stay in Libya apparently I have a family waiting to accommodate me!
Is full speed all the way now - a month today and I'll be meeting up with Rich. Is all starting to get a bit exciting, and feels like this is really is going to happen!
Feeling for the first time today that I am making real progress with preparations for the trip, having also sorted out a new credit card, bank account (well almost, that's another story), contact lenses and finally telling my clients I'm leaving. This has produced mixed results, with some clearly thinking I've been sacked until I tell them why I'm going, and others thinking going off travelling for 2 years is a bit of an odd thing for their solicitor to do... Everyone has been very sweet though, and should I need somewhere to stay in Libya apparently I have a family waiting to accommodate me!
Is full speed all the way now - a month today and I'll be meeting up with Rich. Is all starting to get a bit exciting, and feels like this is really is going to happen!
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