There Ain't No Devil, It's Just God When He's Drunk

Travelling always leaves me shattered. I think I mentally think about how travel tires me out, and voila, I bring it on myself.

Yep, I am back from a WONDERFUL mini-holiday. On Wednesday, I took the train south of 4.5 hours and arrived in the bustling city of London where I met up with a pal from my post-grad course. After a delicious (and big and $14) banana and nutella crepe and a cup of tea, I headed even farther south to the beach side towns of Brighton and Hove (mainly Hove) where my super wonderful friend Kiki (as she is nicknamed) and her husband live for a fabulous Thanksgiving long weekend.

I've had Thanksgivings in the UK before, but nothing has been as delicious or authentic as what we had. 4 years ago, when I was in Edinburgh studying for the year, the abroad office put on a little shindig Scottish style, complete with turkey (the stuffing was ham and stuffed inside the slice of turkey breast like an embedded medallion of meat), kilted sausages (tiny sausages wrapped in bacon), and brussle sprouts.

Then, of course, there was the ceilidh and everyone ended up getting even more pissed at the pub down the street.

Also that year, my fellow American flatmate decieded to share Thanksgiving with the Brits of our flat. Unfortunatley, unable to find the turkey, Virginia (so I label people from where they're from...so what) bought a ham that ended up being too big for our small University issued oven and ended up being a half cooked half burnt to death lump of pig flesh. Also, the sweet potatoes and marshmallows were too bizzare for the Brits to comprehend and remained mostly uneaten, as did the collared greens. But she got an A for effort!

This Thanksgiving was great. We had turkey, corn bread (made with Polenta meal as it is known here), green beans, cranberry sauce, stuffing, and mince pies for pudding. And delicious Scrumpy, a cloudy apple cider that is apparently pretty prevelant in the south of England. Also, good banter, good music, and good company...it couldn't get better. I think the British guests found it to be nothing more than a large version of a Sunday Roast, but I for one, in the Thanksgiving tradition, was extreamely thankful for my friend for hosting such a great meal and for putting me up for 4 days and 3 nights.

It's the holidays and traditions away from home that remind you the most that you're not home, and being able to share Thanksgiving with another ex-pat helped to re-create that bit of home that was missing from those past Novembers, no matter how fun, strange, or memorable they were.