Buxton!

Buxton!

Waking from a long and deep restful sleep to dawning 7am sunshine meant a beautiful day. Elena had bought some crusty rolls the previous day and offered me the extra one. I made mine up with gammon pate, lettuce and sharp Spanish cheese. We set off at 8:30am for the George and Dragon pub to meet Laura and Raquel. We met Marika and Maria along the way. We waited until they showed up at 8:45am. The train was due to leave at 8:55am and we still had a 15 minute walk down to the train station. Elena and I didn’t think we’d make it in time and that we should just wait for the next train to leave in an hour. The rest of the group didn’t want to miss the train and so we pretty much ran the entire way to the station, barely making the 8:55am train to Buxton. I felt like I was in Home Alone running through the airport-style.

Once at the station, we were hit up for 15p to get to Buxton; there we met a Spanish guy who joined our party. We all ran for the train and got on just as it began to leave the station. The seats were really comfy—cushioned with four sitting around a table. I pulled out my ipod and watched the scenery whiz by. We came to a halt about 20 minutes after we boarded the train at the station of Crewe. We had a half hour wait until we would change trains to take us to yet another station to change trains again. Just to let you know, if you ever find yourself in England at the train station of Crewe, the bathrooms are very nice and clean. We sat outside for a bit waiting; the station was almost completely deserted and there was a fierce wind that made the rusty signs swing and creak on the quiet platform. Suddenly we looked up and saw that snow was coming down in the bright sunshine onto the tracks. As quickly as it began, it stopped. Our train came and we boarded once again.

We arrived at Stockport station after 20 minutes of blurry scenery. We waited in a small waiting room for a half an hour for the final train to Buxton. The sun couldn’t make it any warmer and the wind cut through all of us. The temperature hovered around 34 degrees that day with a biting wind. On the train from Stockport to Buxton, 45 minutes, I showed Maria, Elena and Laura my fortune telling game with a Spanish deck of cards. Maria took over after I gave a reading to each of them and showed me another version similar to another fortune telling game I knew. On the way to Buxton it started to snow heavily and Laura was scared that the snow would delay the trains back home. It stuck to the ground enough to lightly dust the countryside.

Our train pulled into the station at Buxton around noon and as soon as we stepped off the platform I knew that the day would be cold, dreary and wet. The sun had completely disappeared and the wind was worse than ever. We were standing in a group just outside of the train station figuring out where to go; they were speaking in Spanish so I didn’t really know what was going on. An American came over and began conversing with them fluently in Spanish; I learned later that the guy helped us find the tourist information center.

We walked down cold wet streets to the city center which, thankfully, was only a block or two from the station. We found the information center and we had a look around. The Spanish girls asked the tourist information lady about the caverns. We filled out into a storm of tiny hail balls back towards the city center to the shopping mall. We huddled inside on benches and ate our pre-packed sandwiches. I went to a grocery to use the bathroom and bought a pack of dried fruit with blueberries, cranberries, raisins and strawberries! It was absolutely delightful. Across from where we were sitting eating was a chocolate shop; in the display window were chocolate eggs the size of my hand! The store was advertising that the eggs could be personalized with the name of the recipient on the outside written in colorful pastel icing. The eggs were 5.99p and looked absolutely delicious. I went inside after my sandwich and got two small bags of gold coins for 1p.

Once everyone finished with their lunch, we headed back outside into the cold and hail. We took our time strolling around the square and the Slopes near the Crescent. I’ll say this for Spanish students on a budget—no wind, cold, rain, sleet, or storm—will prevent them from taking their sweet time to explore a city. We stood around a lot and took a ton of pictures like it was a perfectly sunny 75 degree day; but it wasn’t and it was freezing. I don’t understand but if it cost 15p to get there, I guess they wanted to get their money’s worth no matter the weather.

We strolled around the Pavilion Gardens, literally, took millions of pictures, and finally found our way out the other side. We followed signs to Poole’s Caverns about a mile from the tourist information center. Through driving hail and icy blasts of wind, we made it to the caverns. One thing I was confused about was the price for “concessions.” Usually at attractions or museums there are several ticket prices: adult, child, senior citizen, and concession. I thought to myself, how nice, they provide a coca-cola and a bag of candy or chips on the tour. Before I went up to purchase an adult ticket and a concession (with a sprite, not a coke please!) Laura flashed her student ID card and got the concession ticket price. Alas, dashing my hopes of a nice snack and refreshing drink, I offer this helpful advice, concession ticket prices is just the British way of saying ‘discount.’

It cost 5.50p (concession price!) to get into the caverns; we had a guide take us into the dank cave. It was about the same temperature as outside but there was no hail and wind. Our guide told us the history and showed us some special items of interest inside the cave. The Spanish group apparently didn’t want to listen or couldn’t comprehend what he was saying and they continued to take pictures of the cave and each other for the rest of the tour. I was a little embarrassed but whatever. We saw shapes in the cave that looked like Harry Potter’s broomstick, a gazelle’s skin (complete with veins!), a cat, a dragon, a wedding cake, an Orc from the Lord of the Rings, bacon, and a cauliflower (but I think it looks like a lump of sugar).

We finished with the cave and walked back to the city center. Along the way most of the group lagged behind, walking slow at their own pace in the bitter cold and hail. They were happy and made snowballs and threw them at each other. Laura, Maria and I walked ahead quickly because we were very cold and wanted to get something hot to drink from the mall. I saw three British teenagers in the park kicking back and forth a soccer ball…in 30 degree weather!!!! With hail! Without winter coats! Insane I tell you.

The mall closed at 4pm on Sundays and we arrived there at about 15 minutes before closing time. We all got hot drinks and slowly drank them until they kicked us out. We walked leisurely to the train station because our timetable said that the next train would be at 5.30pm. When we arrived, Maria went inside to confirm that the next train to Chester would leave at that time. The man told her that the train leaving the station in a few seconds would be able to take us back to Chester. We all rushed on board, thankful to be getting home sooner and out of the cold and hail.

We rode for awhile; the man had told us to get off at Manchester Piccadilly station to switch trains for Chester. Laura got up and went to the bathroom on board the train. The cabin we were in was deserted but a door next to the toilet opened and a young guy entered our train car. He tried to open the door to the toilet and almost successfully did so but Laura shrieked and pushed it shut. Only Elena and I saw what happened and we were laughing so hard. The guy stood near the bathroom and pulled his hood over his head until Laura came out. He quickly went inside and Laura told us what had happened. We were all laughing; it felt really good to laugh after a stressful day I had.

The train stopped at Manchester station and we got off. We asked around to find the train to Chester and we eventually had to trek into the main section of the train station to have a look at the timetables on the tv screens. We saw that a train to Chester was leaving in three minutes. Again, Home Alone style, we dashed through the train station, bumping into people, running up the moving sidewalk, down to the platform and almost onto the train except the train guy said that the train was not for Chester. We were stumped for awhile before we realized that he was lying and that was the right train and he just didn’t want to wait for us all to board.

We were stuck in Manchester Piccadilly train station for about a half an hour. It wasn’t bad; the station is huge and very nice, modern. I went to use the bathrooms but was confronted with a turnstile…apparently you have to pay to use the toilet….20pence. After the weird bathroom scene, I had myself some Burger King and then it was time to get back to the platform and return home.

At 6pm we boarded the train; we played the Spanish card game of Donkey, which is a combination of Spoons and Horse. We got back to Chester at 7.30pm in the dark, in the cold, and in the wet. It was snowing and raining and we still had to walk from the train station to the university. Laura and I were ahead of Elena and Maria and way ahead of the rest of the group. Laura and I walked arm and arm back singing. I used to wonder at why the Brit students had to sing late at night after drinking to wake up the whole neighborhood, but now I know why, cause they’re tired and happy. At least that’s what I was feeling. We sang AC/DC’s Back in Black, some Disney songs, she taught me the literal English translation for the Macarena and we sang the Ketchup song. When it was snowing I sang I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas. Elena and I got back to our res at 8pm where I ate an apple and peanut butter, loaded my photos and went to bed.