Cheese Overdose

Posting my scarce notes about my recent trip to the French Alps, I somehow managed to neglect the most important part of any trip to France. What comes as a next-to-last course of any distinguished dinner? When most of us will take time to answer this question, the actual answer is very trivial for any French person. Cheese, of course. Yes, cheese can be a separate course during a long dinner ceremony. It usually comes after a main dish and just before you are ready to tempt yourself with a dessert. You will most likely get a plate of various types to choose from. My curiosity always took a hold of me and I tried a little piece of everything that was offered... Tomme, reblochon, assortment of chevre, comte, vacherin mont d'or, Saint-Marcellin... just to name a few. Simply delicious! Just remember never ask anybody at the table how this cheese was made. Otherwise, when you are enjoying a bite of a particularly smooth and buttery texture and starting to appreciate that rich an unique flavour, you are risking to find out that, in fact, all the mentioned above qualities, you so much enjoyed,

are attributed to little warms that live on top of the cheese and can easily be seen with a help of a magnifier. Believe me, even though everyone around you will be very eager to share this information, you might not be ready for it, just yet. Save this sort of discussions for when you become a real gourmand and cannot imagine eating cheese if it does not stink or does not have a fungus growing inside it. It is like an aged vintage wine from a very good year. You need to appreciate it and once you do, it stays with you for ever...

Where from...

It is a holiday season in London... Streets are sparkling with myriads of colorful lights, Christmas trees are greeting you on every corner and store window are crying out loud with mega sales advertisements. I guess it doesn't matter if you celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah, if you are Muslim or Hindu ... you cannot avoid but join in on a holiday spirit that makes you feel so special, so much appreciative of everything you have...

During this time you more than ever feel how cosmopolitan, how diverse this city is. I was told that there are many people who live in London but there are actually very few people who are FROM London. Now it feels more than ever. It appears that this city is holding its breath as most of the places are closed for the holidays and streets seem to be empty even on a Saturday night...Everyone left to be with their families wherever they might be.

Have a wonderful and memorable holiday season!

*photo howstuffworks.com

Got milk? Welcome to Switzerland...

What is the first image that comes in your mind when you think about Europe's natural treasure, namely the Alps? Fashionable Sky resorts? Endless forests and snow covered mountain tops or, perhaps, Milka advertisement with cows that can talk and badgers offering you to try the latest products of the chocolate industry? Let me re-insure you, the Alps is all of the above and much much more, except maybe talking cows. However even that depends...but let me start from the beginning.

Your Alpine experience depends on the part of the mountains you choose. I will mostly talk about French and Swiss parts as they are best known to me.

This time I flew to Zurich to catch my connection to Geneva. Zurich airport looks like many others: shopaholic haven with the world premier brands and endless duty free offers calling for your Dollars, Euros, Pounds or whatever you have to spend. Surprises started when I got on the ultra modern airport train to get to the domestic terminal. I was deep in my thoughts starting to consider whether I really needed that new D&G underwear, so bluntly advertised on the train window, and staring at the train clock informing me how many seconds I had left before doors were closing, when I heard a loud moo coming from the speakers. For a moment i thought someone was making a joke and I was almost ready to go back to my fashion thoughts when another distinct moo was followed by a cheerful announcement "Welcome to Switzerland". Indeed...Who said cows don't talk? They do, at least in Switzerland! Image of this animal followed me throughout the entire trip. Cow is a symbol of Swiss extraordinary chocolate industry and every time I have a bite of extra dark chocolate or shopping for D&G underwear I now think about Alps and... cows...

*photo alpenschatz.com

What I like about London or experience with real estate agencies

London is a very big city and like any other city of the same size in Europe or North America can offer you anything you might possibly need. Any exotic food, any piece of luxirious Pret-a-Porte, any imaginable beauty product and, of course, any housing option one may consider depending on one's personal budget and desires.

I spent my entire last week in search of that one and only perfect apartment that I could call my home for the next few years or at least months of the wet and gloomy winter. I wanted to do my homework prior to coming to the U.K. and like any other person totally addicted to the Internet, I spent hours and hours surfing the net in Kyiv looking for locations, prices, agencies, offers, etc.

London is clearly divided in several zones by city underground. It is a very convenient way to decide what location you want to choose for your future home. Central London is zone 1 with all its Royal Palaces, historic monuments, overwhelming number of shopping and dining amenities, night clubs, fantastic parks and other endless possibilities. West End is historically one of the most afluentual areas in the city and thus one of the most expensive ones. If you are taking East bound Underground train leaving central London you are slowly finding yourself in less pretentious parts of the city, but I will save my intake on city districts for some other later posts.

Taking all that into account I most certainly reduced my search to zone 1. Hours of Internet research gave me an idea of the price I should expect and I was confident I was prepared for my hunt.

Before departure from Ukraine my deer friends gave me few names of the major real estate players and I decided to try my luck with them as well as some other smaller agencies once I land in the U.K. I very soon discovered that this city is just filled with real estate agencies offering their assistance. I decided to walk around and stop by several of them. That's when my real apartment search experience started...

When I mentioned that I knew rental prices prior to coming to London I did not know that I had to take what was available online, multiply it by two and add an extra hundred pounds or so on top... As much as I hate stereotypes, when they say London is a very expensive city I have to agree with this one. When I recovered from the first shock I experienced when I learned the price of the apartments offered by that particular agency I was actually able to produce some sounds that distantly resembled English language and explain in details what I really wanted. OK, maybe not what I really wanted but what I can settle for at the beginning.

After that first interaction with the agent I became much better. At least in my own eyes :). I was actually able to answer questions like: what attracted me the most in Bloomsbury neighbourhood or what I was really looking for in Soho (like I had any ulterior motive other than finding home :)). Why does it have to be that demanding? I felt I was participating in some sort of an essay competition called what I know and like most about London. Who cares what I thought about Bloomsbury or Russel Square.?!.. Why do I have to exercise my language vocabulary just to rent an apartment? Not to mention that I knew absolutely nothing about Bloomsbury or any other neighbourhood before coming to London...:)

So you can imagine that after five days of answering questions, completing the forms and talking to endless number of people I was very much relieved and happy when I did come across that one and only home.

The most interesting part is that after all these experiences and just one week in London I was no longer a stranger and felt that I belonged here. I am instinctively keeping to the left while walking and no longer surprised why some British apartments have two water taps in a bathroom sink instead of one. But that is an entirely different story I am very anxious to tell you in my next post.

I am almost ready to hit the town and check out some local pubs around Soho. Have a fantastic Saturday night and stop by my blog-discovery of the amazing city of London and such a homely place as United Kingdom.

Look Right... Look Left

First day in London turned out to be sunny and pleasant. I woke up to a blue sky and modest November sun was cheerfully poking through my hotel window. Whatever they say about weather in London, don't believe it. It can be sunny and it does not always rain here. The only thing is the weather can change between warm and pleasant to rainy and gloomy and back in a mere hour or so, but I can live with that, can't I?

As soon as I was done with my British breakfast that consisted of scrambled eggs, refried beans and bacon I did not want to waste any minute and ran outside to experience my new hometown.

The experience started on the first street light. Huge double-decker buses zoomed by me with a threatening speed and cabs seemed like they were trying to run over every pedestrian who dared to cross the road. All that was nothing for someone experienced with a chaotic driving in Ukraine. I merely laughed to myself and looked for a pedestrian light...Imagine my surprise when I discovered that there was none... I was standing on the crossing road marked for pedestrians, with lights for drivers and no lights for those walking. I am not talking about a tiny road with four stop signs somewhere in Fresno, California, I mean major intersection of central London with a non stop flow of vehicles and pedestrians...

I was lost for the first time in my life. I thought that after growing up in a big city and all the experiences in different countries, after surviving Kyiv drivers and New York cabs I was prepared for everything...Apparently I wasn't. The funniest part was that everybody else crossing that road seemed to have no problem at all. They all proceeded carelessly and I decided to do the same, as they say when in Rome... What happened after is a bit blurred for me now. As a matter of fact, my post yesterday could have been the last one if it was not for my friend who literally pulled me back to the sidewalk before another double-decker almost smashed your dedicated writer...I was standing there trying to comprehend what actually happened or almost happened to me when I realized that I looked left before crossing that road instead of looking right, like you are supposed to do in the U.K. But of course, they drive on the left side of the road! I have learned this lesson the hard way. I think I was not the only one and for many other it might not have ended the same way as almost every intersection in London tells you whether you should look left or right before crossing.

I am pretty sure I will get all these rules sooner than later and will be laughing at my current post, but so far I have not found an answer why to go through so much trouble as to write on the road where pedestrians are supposed to look and not to install a simple light... Of course not all intersections are like that, some of them are no different from what you can see anywhere, say in New York City but those that are different are still beyond my understanding, at least for now. I promise to learn and of course to report to you the outcome!

Earlier in this post I mentioned four stop intersections so common in the United States. When you arrive at such intersection you are supposed to stop, look around and whoever got there first has a priority over others to proceed. I find it truly amazing. One of those things that are possible only in America. I remember how surprised I was to find out that such intersections actually work and people do not end up in constant accidents arguing who had a right to go. Respect you show to others in a daily life is very well demonstrated by your driving habits. Similar respect but in a very different way you also have here in London. I guess it is all beyond the point of this post. The fact is we can still be surprised with such a small thing as road intersection and driving rules...

So, hurray to surprises, only pleasant, of course, and welcome to the United Kingdom!

:)

Way from Heathrow or when to sms London Underground Authority

Everyone kept telling me that Heathrow is a nightmare and everything will only get better once I am done with it. I was excited as it could certainly give me enough material to write to you, but, somehow, Heathrow experience went really smoothly and uneventful. Maybe, it was just one of those easy days or so I thought...

British Midland Airlines (BMI) took me directly to good ol' terminal one. Easy airport signage lead me to London Underground and within an hour I was riding Piccadilly line all the way to central London. According to my perfect plan I was supposed to transfer to Circle line somewhere around South Kensington. That was when real fun started. On one of the transfer stations I got off the train, as planned, and followed very clear directions to Circle line. I had to go up and down the stairs, take long passages and even took an elevator... and finally I happily dragged my overstaffed suitcase and anxious myself to the Circle line stop only to discover a tiny postage above the metro map telling me that Circle line was not running on that particular day... I could not believe my eyes. Can anyone tell me the purpose of such sings at the end and not at the beginning of the transfer point? And when I was considering smashing ironic sing with my suitcase I heard a happy voice announcing that same message about the interruption of the Circle line service and offering me to contact station manager, read more information about London metro on the Internet or send SMS if I required any assistance. Damn I did. Was I tempted to send that SMS! I am just afraid that content of that message could not be disclosed on this blog...:) So I was left with no choice but to drag moody myself and my overstaffed suitcase up and down the stairs, along the never ending corridors back to Piccadilly line for a different transfer to get to Paddington- my destination...

My next day I spent apartment hunting and trying to stay alive crossing the roads or bumping into some remarkable animal monuments, but that is an entirely different story...

With this I'd like to salute to perfect signage and invite you to stay tuned to more discoveries.

World of Masks or Walking in Zig Zags

No matter what I will not, repeat will not write about A/H1N1 influenza. Seriously, how much news of that kind can one human being take? I do not want to be a guinea pig and discover it on my own. Thank you...but no... thank you!

Schools are closed, lines in pharmacies are getting longer and everyone is waiting for some sort of apocalypses. As far as I remember it is not 2012 when Maya predicted the end of times... We still have few years, guys! So, cheer up!

I have been through that sort of total hysteria only once before. It was back in Washington in 2003 when sniper terrorized local population. If you lived in DC at that time, you would remember. We started every single day reading Washington Post with headlines like:"sniper strikes again" or "going to a gas station makes you a next target", etc. Goes well with your peanut butter and jelly toast, doesn't it? My personal favourite was when one of the articles advised you to go outside only if you absolutely had to, and, if you did, you had to walk in zig-zags from tree to another tree in order not to become a target. Fancy that?

Now imagine all 600 000 of DC residents doing that... add Washington metropolitan area and you have over five million people running up and down the streets in zig-zags...You get the picture. ;)I am afraid if we had actually done that, they would have had much more work to do at National psychiatric institutions...

I also remember how we were afraid of white vans. Because sniper allegedly drove white van when he was in search of his next victim. Oh boy... that was really fun. I bet every white vehicle in DC area was reported to police as a potential suspect. Don't get me wrong, I was one of those people pointing to a white car and yelling to my friends: "here... here it goes, is it him?" It was usually followed by a discussion of where exactly he could strike next and whether NW Washington was a safe area at all... :).

I guess no matter where we are, we all react in the same way. We try to control our emotions, but deep inside we need a bit of drama to carry us through these short and chilly November days. And that is fine with me. Otherwise, I will not have anything to write to you on this unremarkable second day of November.

Stay warm, safe and happy regardless of anything they tell you.

*photo zazzle.com

Pumpkin Day

Here we are... 31st of October 2009. I don't know what it is about Halloween but this is one 0f the few holidays that truly inspire me.

Actually, it was the first American holiday I experienced on the other side of Atlantic. It was 11 years ago when on one particularly cold and windy day I was crossing Chippewa river to get to the other side of the University of Wisconsin lower campus and was totally mesmerised but an array of pumpkin faces looking at me from the colorful porches of typical Middle America houses.

That same day I was invited by one of my friends for a family dinner followed by a traditional trick or treat. Everything was about pumpkins that evening. For dinner we had some kind of soup baked in the whole pumpkin, followed by a homemade pumpkin pie and pumpkin candies for desert! After we were no longer able to consume anything that remotely reminded mentioned above vegetable we decided to go for a walk and watch kids in costumes and street decorations. And it was remarkable! Imagine everyone dressed in bright spooky costumes, thousands of candles burning all over the neighborhood, hundreds of deliberately carved pumpkins around the houses and overwhelmingly irresistible feeling of joy everywhere you looked... Speaking about a holiday spirit!

Joy of Halloween stayed with me over the years. When I came back to the United States to live in Washington I was very much looking forward to October 31st to see how different it was on the East Coast. It was all I expected and more.

My cosmopolitan Dupont Circle neighborhood celebrated in its own way. Festivities usually started with the High Heel Race on the Tuesday before Halloween. It is a pretty funny event with dozens of drag queens racing down 17th street and fighting to win. If you combine competition and drag queens together you get the picture how it actually is.:)

Costume parade on M street is certainly a culmination point of Halloween celebration in Washington. Hundreds and hundreds of people in exquisite costumes march around Georgetown. If you like to be in the center of attention and you don't have a lack of imagination then that is the place to be.

Description of Halloween in Washington would be incomplete without mentioning an International Student House (ISH) party. ISH is a special place for me that deserves a separate post on this blog. Let me just say that there was nothing better than spending an enchanting night with your best friends making fools of ourselves and having a time of our lives!

Regardless of where you are and whether they grow pumpkins there or not I wish you a very colorful and happy Halloween to remember!

Joy of Packing

In this title there is only one word which is true and that is packing...I don't know if it is possible to use joy and packing in the same sentence...I can tell you for sure - not for me...Always the same routine. No matter how much I am trying to procrastinate unavoidable, there is always a moment when you just have to start folding and wrapping and ordering and measuring and stocking and more folding and piling and more ordering...I am not trying to sound negative, not at all. I am just stating a fact here:).

Well, that said, the expectation of a new adventure always serves as a remedy for the painful process of relocation. So far I did it about 5 times. I am talking about major move here. The first time I was going to the U.S. to study at the University of Wisconsin. I was about 19 years old back then...Most of my suitcases were not even done by me so, I guess, that first time does not really count. Other times were when I moved to Washington and back to Donetsk and, finally, when I moved to Kyiv almost six years ago.

One thing I have learned from all this process is that the older you become the more boxes you need to move. You just somehow absolutely cannot imagine your life in a new place without that special frying pan, that one and only sweater, so precious to you regardless of the fact that you did not wear it for about... well... 3 years...And let me tell you, all those things add up...
So in order to save some of my "or so fragile neurons'' I decided to go with professional movers. I thought all I needed to do was to go on my facebook while all those professionals loaded my belongings on one of those magic trucks or whatever they used to transport your things across the borders...Ha...I should have known better...

The movers arrived to estimate the quantity of things to be shipped. I left it up to them to go around my apartment and do whatever they needed to do. I was just about to indulge myself in life feed updates of the world wide addiction - THE one and only facebook, when I was totally thrown of the track by a question posed by one of the movers: "How many cubic meters of T-shirts do you have?"Ha? Here came my tranquility. I thought she was joking...I asked what she meant by cubic meters and she went into a long explanation: "well imagine one meter in height, one meter in length and one meter in width''...For one moment I thought poor lady needed a professional help herself... Honestly I was so startled that I did not know what to respond. I was just staring at her and evaluating in my mind whether she had any heavy or sharp objects in her hands and whether i could make it to the door...I guess my facial expression was somewhat alarming because she looked like she started to evaluate whether I had any sharp objects in my own hands and whether she should run for the exit herself...

Then it occurred to me that this poor girl was probably joking and I simply lost my sense of humour...Shame on me! So in order to reinstate that I was still capable of joking myself, I stated that I measured my T-shirts in square miles only... Oh boy... that did not help... I think it could have been the end of my contract with the movers... That was when my friend came to my rescue and calmly asked why they measured everything in cubic meters. Guess what the answer was? Because everything is transported in boxes and shipment is calculated depending on the size of the box (i.e. depending on your cubic meters)...Now I know how many cubic meters of T-shirts I have:).

I feel better because I've learned something new today:).

*photo twomenboxes.com

First Entry Ever

I feel such a responsibility now since I've decided to start this blog. I thought it could be interesting to share all the travel adventures and discovery of this tiny world as well as some daily blurbs of my mind. Actually I should have done it a long time ago... but you know how it goes. I needed to live with this idea for some time before going on the world wide web and creating something like that.... Anyways...

I also thought it could be a right time with all the changes in my life this year.
Today is exactly one month before a major move. Yes I am leaving Kyiv and soon will be calling London my new home. The countdown has started as well as all the bureaucracy associated with it. I have a feeling that my next post will be about apartment rental and job search in the United Kingdom... we'll see...

Now few words about the name of this blog- discovery. I think there is no better word that describes my constant curiosity in people, countries, languages and world in general. Last five years were filled with travel, meeting people and opening my mind about a lot of things. The bottom line is I don't want this blog to be all about me or my life I want it to be about sharing various experiences with my friends. Let's hope I will stick to my plan:).

With these few words that actually turned into a rather long post I'd like to welcome you to my discovery and thank you for sharing what you think about anything I post here.