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hazelchazWednesday afternoon in Inverness. Part 2 of 4 parts. (See Part 1 to start at the beginning of this report.)
Lynn was looking for James Pringle Weavers. She found a James Pringle Weavers shop along the River Ness, near the High Street, closer than the shop she was looking for. It was frustrating because they kept calling her "sir." They told her the larger store was further along, about a mile, or 30 minutes walk. She wanted the exercise anyway, and figured she'd give it 35 minutes before giving up and taking a bus or taxi the rest of the way.
After walking and walking, almost exactly half an hour, she got to Pringle Weavers. On the way she saw moss on a stone fence. The big James Pringle Weaver was disappointing in a way, because there wasn't more cashmere and woollens -- there was more non-woolly stuff, such as lingerie and t-shirts and button-down shirts and pants. Even though they weren't polyester, she just got the impression of a sea of polyester. They had a large menswear section, which she wasn't interested in. The purple jeans she tried on didn't fit; she tried on a bunch of cashmere sweater and one cotton sweater, and picked one to buy -- didn't want to overdue it. She got a scarf that turned out to be only 8 pounds, and postcards and stamps, and came very close to buying the hand-knitted Arran sweater (it was 85 pounds, which was a fantastic price, we don't get them in the states for anything like that, but it was still out of her budget). Then she found machine-knit hand-embroidered Arran sweaters in the menswear section, for about 35 pounds, but she didn't find a color she'd wear.
On the way back home she stopped at Leakey's Used Bookstore, then continued on home, and we set out in search of dinner. We didn't really want to go into a smokey pub again; we thought perhaps some take-away would do. We crossed the river, went to High Street which is mostly peds-only and definitely the crossroads of Inverness. We heard more languages there... There are a couple of youth hostels in High Street, and there were political activists collecting for this and that, and it seemed like the sort of place that Maria would enjoy visiting if she gets the hang of packing light and exploring Europe with a backpack for her gear.
We saw "Ho Ho Hostel" and there was a towel draped over a windowsill upstairs. At ground level, the shops included the soap and cosmetic shop "Lush" -- Lynn and Maria had mail-ordered their products before, so Lynn definitely wanted to take some time to browse the actual store.
We ended up at "Kebab House" which was a chip shop. They had some lime soda but it wasn't cold, and nobody seems to believe in ice in these parts, so I didn't try it, but I had a single fish. Which in this case was actually one piece of fish -- a huge one, as big as two pieces in Glasgow or four or five pieces at a fish and chips place in USA. I ran into a fishbone, but only one. Lynn had a beef burger here, but it was too peppery for her.
Oh, and my Dr Pepper was from the Netherlands; we thought Lynn's Sprite was Armenian, but on closer inspection we figured it came all the way from Georgia. The east european Georgia, not the one Coca-Cola's based in.
On the way home, I looked up, and the sky was striped. Really. Sort of a dusty apricot and a slate blue. The heavy clouds were in parallel drifts, and the sunset shined on them making the thinner clouds glow, and the sky was full of stripes.
Terms that we learned in UK: Lemonade = lemon-lime soda, usually Sprite or generic. (Our lemonade would be called still lemonade, if they had it.) Salad = the lettuce and other garnish that comes with a burger. Sometimes variously includes tomahto (not tomayto), onion, peppers. Maybe carrots or a strawberry, even. We also saw Pitta bread, with two T's. And we bought Penguins for her, and Maltesers for me. Penguins are a chocolate sandwich biscuit with chocolate cream. Kind of dry, like a rectangular all-chocolate Oreo. I'm not that big on chocolate cookies, so I got a bag of Maltesers, which are malted milk balls. Our "Whoppers" have a thin chocolate-flavored candy shell; Maltesers have a thick milk chocolate coating.
Maltesers are reminiscent of the good-quality maltballs that you used to be able to get at Knott's Berry Farm's candy shop. (Which I was told came from Cameo Candies, in Richmond, California, who also sold chocolate raisins to Price Club once upon a time; but the last time I was in Richmond visiting my sister Elaine I couldn't find any sign of Cameo Candies. A mystery yet to be solved; they may have gone out of business, or changed their name and relocated. And now I'm sure all of the chocolate-covered raisins at Costco are marked with their house brand, making it even harder to pick up the trail again.) And Trader Joe's once sold chocolate malted milk balls, until they discontinued them and only carried chocolate peanut butter maltballs. But the maltballs at Knott's tend to be covered in a darker chocolate than the Maltesers; if you like maltballs, and you like milk chocolate, the Maltesers are the ones for you. I doubt they'll get much of a toehold in the American market with Whoppers sitting in the product niche, though.
We passed "Max's 2" -- a chip shop. I think so, anyway. The windows advertised fish and chips, sausage and chips, hot pies and chips, and chicken and chips. Sit in or takeaway (it was a good-sized place), kebabs, chicken, pizza. We didn't make it back there, though; we found a few places that were non-smoking in High Street, but this was an alley (excuse me, lane) a block away.
We also saw more cryptic traffic signs. Traffic signs in UK follow the european conventions, I understand. Lots of white backgrounds and red borders; they don't use solid-yellow signs the way you see in California. A circular sign, often smaller than the standard sign, with a red border and a black number in it indicates a speed limit. (In mph. The roads aren't metric.) The two most opaque signs we saw were, an empty red-bordered circle, i.e. just white inside; and the "no blue" sign, a red-bordered circle with the red slash for "NO", and the inside of the circle was otherwise plain blue. No words, no symbols, just a prohibition against blueness.
I posted an LJ entry with a Proclaimers song. Our landlord Kieron told us that the song was almost the unofficial Scottish national anthem, and they played it at ball games (such as football) when the Scottish side scored a goal. Which was rare enough for it to be something of an event.
Lynn was looking for James Pringle Weavers. She found a James Pringle Weavers shop along the River Ness, near the High Street, closer than the shop she was looking for. It was frustrating because they kept calling her "sir." They told her the larger store was further along, about a mile, or 30 minutes walk. She wanted the exercise anyway, and figured she'd give it 35 minutes before giving up and taking a bus or taxi the rest of the way.
After walking and walking, almost exactly half an hour, she got to Pringle Weavers. On the way she saw moss on a stone fence. The big James Pringle Weaver was disappointing in a way, because there wasn't more cashmere and woollens -- there was more non-woolly stuff, such as lingerie and t-shirts and button-down shirts and pants. Even though they weren't polyester, she just got the impression of a sea of polyester. They had a large menswear section, which she wasn't interested in. The purple jeans she tried on didn't fit; she tried on a bunch of cashmere sweater and one cotton sweater, and picked one to buy -- didn't want to overdue it. She got a scarf that turned out to be only 8 pounds, and postcards and stamps, and came very close to buying the hand-knitted Arran sweater (it was 85 pounds, which was a fantastic price, we don't get them in the states for anything like that, but it was still out of her budget). Then she found machine-knit hand-embroidered Arran sweaters in the menswear section, for about 35 pounds, but she didn't find a color she'd wear.
On the way back home she stopped at Leakey's Used Bookstore, then continued on home, and we set out in search of dinner. We didn't really want to go into a smokey pub again; we thought perhaps some take-away would do. We crossed the river, went to High Street which is mostly peds-only and definitely the crossroads of Inverness. We heard more languages there... There are a couple of youth hostels in High Street, and there were political activists collecting for this and that, and it seemed like the sort of place that Maria would enjoy visiting if she gets the hang of packing light and exploring Europe with a backpack for her gear.
We saw "Ho Ho Hostel" and there was a towel draped over a windowsill upstairs. At ground level, the shops included the soap and cosmetic shop "Lush" -- Lynn and Maria had mail-ordered their products before, so Lynn definitely wanted to take some time to browse the actual store.
We ended up at "Kebab House" which was a chip shop. They had some lime soda but it wasn't cold, and nobody seems to believe in ice in these parts, so I didn't try it, but I had a single fish. Which in this case was actually one piece of fish -- a huge one, as big as two pieces in Glasgow or four or five pieces at a fish and chips place in USA. I ran into a fishbone, but only one. Lynn had a beef burger here, but it was too peppery for her.
Oh, and my Dr Pepper was from the Netherlands; we thought Lynn's Sprite was Armenian, but on closer inspection we figured it came all the way from Georgia. The east european Georgia, not the one Coca-Cola's based in.
On the way home, I looked up, and the sky was striped. Really. Sort of a dusty apricot and a slate blue. The heavy clouds were in parallel drifts, and the sunset shined on them making the thinner clouds glow, and the sky was full of stripes.
Terms that we learned in UK: Lemonade = lemon-lime soda, usually Sprite or generic. (Our lemonade would be called still lemonade, if they had it.) Salad = the lettuce and other garnish that comes with a burger. Sometimes variously includes tomahto (not tomayto), onion, peppers. Maybe carrots or a strawberry, even. We also saw Pitta bread, with two T's. And we bought Penguins for her, and Maltesers for me. Penguins are a chocolate sandwich biscuit with chocolate cream. Kind of dry, like a rectangular all-chocolate Oreo. I'm not that big on chocolate cookies, so I got a bag of Maltesers, which are malted milk balls. Our "Whoppers" have a thin chocolate-flavored candy shell; Maltesers have a thick milk chocolate coating.
Maltesers are reminiscent of the good-quality maltballs that you used to be able to get at Knott's Berry Farm's candy shop. (Which I was told came from Cameo Candies, in Richmond, California, who also sold chocolate raisins to Price Club once upon a time; but the last time I was in Richmond visiting my sister Elaine I couldn't find any sign of Cameo Candies. A mystery yet to be solved; they may have gone out of business, or changed their name and relocated. And now I'm sure all of the chocolate-covered raisins at Costco are marked with their house brand, making it even harder to pick up the trail again.) And Trader Joe's once sold chocolate malted milk balls, until they discontinued them and only carried chocolate peanut butter maltballs. But the maltballs at Knott's tend to be covered in a darker chocolate than the Maltesers; if you like maltballs, and you like milk chocolate, the Maltesers are the ones for you. I doubt they'll get much of a toehold in the American market with Whoppers sitting in the product niche, though.
We passed "Max's 2" -- a chip shop. I think so, anyway. The windows advertised fish and chips, sausage and chips, hot pies and chips, and chicken and chips. Sit in or takeaway (it was a good-sized place), kebabs, chicken, pizza. We didn't make it back there, though; we found a few places that were non-smoking in High Street, but this was an alley (excuse me, lane) a block away.
We also saw more cryptic traffic signs. Traffic signs in UK follow the european conventions, I understand. Lots of white backgrounds and red borders; they don't use solid-yellow signs the way you see in California. A circular sign, often smaller than the standard sign, with a red border and a black number in it indicates a speed limit. (In mph. The roads aren't metric.) The two most opaque signs we saw were, an empty red-bordered circle, i.e. just white inside; and the "no blue" sign, a red-bordered circle with the red slash for "NO", and the inside of the circle was otherwise plain blue. No words, no symbols, just a prohibition against blueness.
I posted an LJ entry with a Proclaimers song. Our landlord Kieron told us that the song was almost the unofficial Scottish national anthem, and they played it at ball games (such as football) when the Scottish side scored a goal. Which was rare enough for it to be something of an event.
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Date: 2005-08-17 03:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-17 10:55 am (UTC)