Between a Rock and Another Rock

Episode 3: Between a Rock and Another Rock

When we last left the young bloke, The Empire had thrown everything it had at him: cramp-inducing walks, balmy weather, eyelash references, impossible navigation, and the prospect of bathroomless tour buses.  He decided to escape to a far off place: Stonehenge, on the moon of Salisbury.  There, he intended to train with the Circle of the Elders to prepare for his final battle with Londontown and the Empire.     

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Stonehenge…

I woke up at 6am to catch the 7 o’clock bus to Salisbury.  Waking up that early takes on an added bit of fun when staying at a hostel.  Since you’re sharing a room with 5 other people, you try to stay relatively quiet so as not to wake everyone.  However, the cages under the bunk beds were built in the 1800s, consisting entirely of nails scraping a chalkboard and MRI machines.  So when you pull them out to retrieve your belongings, the entire city knows it and notifies the Royal Air Force.  After about 10 minutes of slowly nudging the cage to avoid the piercing howl as much as possible, I ran out of the hostel towards the bus station (which I had learned was misleading far away from the hostel).  I got there just as the bus was loading.

The bus ride itself was fairly pleasant compared to the trip into London.  It took two hours to reach Southhampton, where I then transferred to a bus towards Salisbury.  After another 45 minutes, the bus arrived in Salisbury.  I was feeling slightly nauseous by then; breakfast isn’t served at the hostel until 8 and all I brought with me was a granola bar.  I stood around a couple of minutes just breathing in the fresh Salisbury air, then felt well enough to get a shuttle ticket to Stonehenge.  It took way longer than expected, because some lady wanted to discuss monthly bus pass options for her daughter with one of the two assistants there.  The other one was so old and British that I thought he was the Queen (OH SNAP).  Thirty minutes later, I got the Stonehenge ticket for 20 GBP, which included the bus fare, entry to the site, and audio guide. 

The ride over to Stonehenge looked like something out of Lord of the Rings.  The landscape was so verdant and hilly that I was convinced I ended up in the Shire.  I knew it wasn’t a dream when I saw Frodo and Samwise skipping through a field then vaporized by the London Eye of Sauron.  Aside from that, the bus spoke to its occupants, informing us of the wonders we were about to experience and the history of the area.  One story I remember is how a man who murdered his wife in Salisbury was sentenced to death by public hanging.  However, he tried to slit his throat the night before; a doctor sewed him up, and the executioners decided to go ahead with the hanging anyways.  Unfortunately, the doctor didn’t do a good job, and the man’s head fell off into the crowd below.

Stonehenge itself could not have been any better.  Perfect weather, low amount of tourists, great scenery.  I snapped dozens of pictures from every angle.  Of all the things I hoped to experience during my Erasmus exchange, this was my top choice.  I’ve wanted to visit Stonehenge as long as I can remember.  At first glance, I couldn’t help but wonder why I wanted to go so badly.  I mean, it’s a bunch of large rocks arranged in a circular pattern for no known reason.  Upon reflection, I realized that much of it relates back to my childhood and the fact that Stonehenge is a place to visit in my favorite video game of all time, Earthbound.  Sometimes, those little vestiges of childhood just can’t help but want to come out and play once in a while. 

After about 45 minutes at the site, I noticed that I had to catch the bus in 15 minutes or I’d be there for another hour.  As much as I would have been fine hanging out there, I did not want to spoil the perfection in my mind and overstay my welcome.  I grabbed some souvenirs on the way out, then took the bus back to Salisbury. 

I had about 2 hours in Salisbury before I had to catch my London return bus.  One thing that the Omniscient Being Bus Voice noted was that Salisbury is home to one of only 4 copies of the Magna Carta.  As soon as the bus arrived, I wandered around to find the cathedral where this copy is housed.  The good thing about churches is that Christians overcompensate for the fact that they’re not Jewish by building unnecessarily gigantic houses of prayer (kidding! sort of).  I located the place by following the obviously-overcompensatory steeple or whatever it’s called.  I eventually got to the Magna Carta room, but they don’t let you take pictures so you’ll just have to believe me.  The thing looks like it was written in Lord of the Rings language using the world’s tiniest pen.  Not even one inch margins!  Any professor would have given it an automatic zero.

The last thing I wanted to do in Salisbury was track down some lunch.  Remembering the name Salisbury and its association with the word steak, I decided to get what was advertised as “sirloin steak.”  I assumed this meant Salisbury steak.  However, since I had no clue what Salisbury steak entailed, I blindly accepted that I was engaging in a local custom by eating “Salisbury” steak… Unfortunately for me, I only found out today that in fact Salisbury steak has nothing to do with the town of Salisbury, and everything to do with a physician whose last name was Salisbury.  One day, he thought it’d be a good idea to form ground beef into the SHAPE of a steak and cover it with gravy.  Yada yada yada, I didn’t actually eat Salisbury steak.  In fact, it was one of the least appetizing steaks I’ve had.  But I made up for it by buying marzipan and amaretto truffles at a chocolate shop! 

Aside from the bus ride back, the only other thing I did that night was to do as the British do: grab some curry for dinner.  I found my way to a local curry shop, and got naan plus Chicken Tikka Moran (?) which is a creamy coconut-based sauce (tasted like butternut squash too).  It happened to be better than anything I had in London, except for the bangers and mash.  There were even tiger photos and paintings covering the wall, so I felt like a bad ass eating that chicken.  They’re grrrrrreat!   

Next blog – Epiblawg: Harrod’s Potter and the Jaywalker of Abbey Road