Last weekend we ventured to the North East region of England to visit KC’s family.  The area has a hardy feel to it with chilly winds off the North Sea causing me to pull on my winter coat: in the middle of summer.   We spent a few hours site seeing and found a darn good espresso at the Captain Cook museum in Marton, the place of his birth.  The museum had so many Kiwi relics that I felt quite at home.  It hadn’t really sunk in until exploring this place how much of an incredible adventurer James Cook was to have sailed the seas and discovered so many countries, including my own, at the bottom of the earth.

It was also a good opportunity to play with my new gadget, an iPhone 4.   I love gadgets and while I resisted the iPhone for a little while the temptation was too great and all of a sudden the courier was knocking at the door.   After seeing Seamus’s great Hipstamatic pictures on his blog, this was one of the first applications I downloaded.   I love the vintage feel to the pictures making them look off colour, sometimes blurred, and sometimes random.   While I love technology I love the analogue look because of the dreamy results.   Sometimes we don’t need or want the stark sharpness of reality that digital usually provides.

One hour east of Manchester is Antony Gormley’s Another Place installation, at Crosby beach. One hundred cast iron figures, each 6 foot 2, stare out to see and are placed along the beach.  It is quite strange, intriguing and weird all at the same time.  On this day we were there during a spring ‘mini’ heat wave at 27 degrees so the beach was busy.  I would like to go back when the beach is empty, and the sun setting.  I imagine it would feel very different.

A few weekends ago KC and I ventured to Crosby beach, one hour east of Manchester.  Crosby beach is near Liverpool, and is famous for Antony Gromley’s iron men lining the beach.  More on that later.  Heading to unfamiliar ground is always a good chance to sample the local delights, which for me is coffee.  On our way back through the township we realised how many cafes the small town of Crosby had so pulled into a park and decided to wander into Moose coffee, which reminded me of New Zealand cafes.

KC asked for her latte, and I promptly followed with a macchiato.  I am always surprised when people quickly press a button, instead of asking what a macchiato is, and thought to myself wow, they know their coffee!  That was of course, until a big bowl of whipped cream infused with caramel was delivered to my table.  The waitresses’ social intelligence picked up on my look of horror asking “you wanted a macchiato?” It turned out Moose have their own version of a macchiato, very unlike the the classic espresso macchiato I know and love. When my version came out, it was exceptional.

This highlighted what I love about travelling: you never know what you are going to get, even when ordering a coffee.

Lanchester is one hour north of  Manchester and last month went there to have dinner with KC’s Dad.  We were running late, so by the time we got there and headed out the door, it was already 8.30pm.  The local idea was full and had a 30 minute wait.  The next idea was full, the next idea had stopped making dinners.

On our fourth, finally we found a table until KC asked “hmmm do they serve alcohol here?”  The reply was not conducive to dining out that night, so again we headed out into the night to continue to stumble door to door to full restaurants.

What recession?

Finally we came across 1725 Tapa’s after an hour of looking for somewhere to eat on hungry tummies slowly winding us all up.  1725 Tapas had a Jazz band playing – KC’s Dads favourite music, and served us with gorgeous food, and great service.   The tension built from the hour looking, quickly disappeared with our waitresses empathetic service, and a swift pint, giving us a lesson in, if you keep trying you will find somewhere perfect.

It was a late one, making a coffee tasting essential.  I asked for my usual macchiato but they did not know what it was, so a double espresso with a side of milk was agreed on, and it came out to wow my taste buds.  My espresso with a bit on the side may just be the best way to ask for my macchiato in future.  Especially after my Moose experience… coming soon.

“This is perhaps one of the greatest indictments of modern civilisation that could possibly be made – that we have no time to stop and look at anything.  This makes one wonder what this life, and this modern civilisation if ours, is worth if there is no time to look at things.”

- Sangharakshita

I get quite frustrated by time – of lack there of.  I know too well how precious this life is, and Buddhism reminds me of it every corner or path I take, urging me to make the most of my time here.  The frustration is rooted in Sangharakshita’s above quote.  Having no time, given 75% of our waking hours, five days a week are spent getting ready for work, being at work, and getting home from work.  This is ultimately why work should not be work, but something that has enough meaning that it is a hob: a hobby job you would do for free.  Then you would spent 75% of your waking hours, five days a week feeding your soul.  That is precious.