Going to Britain!

So last year, my mother took my sister on a one week trip to Santorini in Greece. This year, she wanted to travel somewhere with me. But because I didn’t want to go during the semester, and going to Southern Europe in the summer can be a sweltering experience, I talked her into going to Britain for a week in the middle of June. More precisely, we’re going to The Pig’s Foot, a.k.a. Cornwall.

Standing Stones in Cornwall
Image from timetravel-britain.com

It’s still in the early planning stages, but I’m really looking forward to it. I am, after all, a bit of an anglophile. We’ve decided we want to visit Tintagel Castle (King Arthur!), The Eden Project and to hike in the countryside. I hope my spoken English is a bit less rusty than I think it is.

This will be my fifth visit to Britain, but only the second after I became old enough to actually care about the sights. My dad has a nice story of how my sister (five) and I (seven) were more interested in ice cream than seeing Stonehenge. And later, at ages seven and nine, more interested in ice cream than seeing Westminster Abbey.

I think I need to do an Amanda and tour England by myself at some point, seeing all the stuff I missed. But Cornwall first.

Fire

Last night there was a huge fire in the centre of my home town. It started in one of the worst places it possibly could: a care home for the disabled and elderly. It’s a miracle no one was killed, considering some of the tenants are dependent on wheelchairs.

What made the situation particularly scary, was that the care home was adjacent to the retiring home. In the care home, most of the tenants were capable of moving around on their own; in the retiring home, there are a lot of bedridden patients. For my sister, my dad and me there was the extra worry of my mother being at work in said retiring home. Especially when we could see the fire clearly from our home, and we live on a hill 200 m above the town.

My mum got home three hours later than she was supposed to, and could tell of a high scale evacuation. Today we could read of a couple of guys who saved five tenants from a balcony by scaling the side of the building, before anyone could think to look for a ladder. From what my mother has to tell, and from what I’ve read, many volunteers did an awesome job, and the staff at the care complex worked tirelessly to get people out. Health personnel that were off duty quickly made their way down there to help.

Thankfully, the retiring home was untouched by the fire. The care home, however, is severly damaged. But no one was killed, and that’s what’s most important.

I’m very proud of my home town today. I only wish I could have done something.

Gaza

Text message from a Norwegian doctor in Gaza, which has been sent around our country today:

“They bombed the central vegetable market i Gaza city two hours ago. 80 injured, 20 killed, everyone came here to Shifa. Hades! We’re wading through death, blood and amputations. Many children. Pregnant woman. I have never seen anything this terrible. Now we can hear the tanks. Tell it on, send it on, shout it on. Anything. We’re living history now, everyone of us.

Mads G. 4.1.09 13:50, Gaza, Palestine”

There is no excuse for what Israel is doing, none! If anyone is feeling as frustrated and heartbroken as I am, knowing what is happening in Gaza at the moment, please pass this message on.

Christmas Day

Norway is one of the least religious countries in Europe (ironic, since we still have a State Church), and so Christmas (or Yule) has become less a celebration of the birth of Christ, and more about family. We’re atheistic/agnostic, so yesterday’s celebrations were all about spending time with loved ones.

When my mother came home from work, she and I went to the graveyard to light candles on the graves of family members. I wish I had brought a camera, because the graveyard on Christmas Eve is truly beautiful. There are no electric lights, so all the light comes from candles lit by people remembering their relatives. I always go with my mother to the graveyard on Christmas Eve, because I think it’s such a nice tradition.

Afterwards, I lit torches around our house, to welcome our relatives to the evening celebrations. We totalled ten people at the Christmas table this year, which meant everything took longer than usual – from the meal to the gift opening. Not that that’s a bad thing, because I think everyone really enjoyed themselves.

Under the cut is the annual photo of my sister and me in front of the Christmas tree, where you also get to see why the gift opening took so long. And there’s a photo of what I got for Christmas, since I’m just that obnoxious.

I hope everyone is having a great Christmas Day, and I’m jealous of all the UK residents who get to watch the Doctor Who Christmas Special.