Posted in Bar, books, Events, Free, Pub, Singapore, Uncategorized, tagged Bar, book, book exchange, book swap, books and beer, events, free, pub, Singapore on May 11, 2016|
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Books and Beer has been on my radar for a while, but I only finally made it to their event this past March. Turns out my suspicions were right, I DO love this concept! Between my mother and I (she happened to be in town so I took her along) we came home with a pretty good load of reads.
What: Books. You bring up to 10 books and in return (ideally) take home the same number of books you brought
Where: At a pub! Or bar! The last one had happy hour $7 glasses of wine!!
Who: Book nerds. Mingle with other people, ask them what they are reading, start conversations, OR put your nose in a book and be alone among other people like an introvert’s dream. But with beer.
When: Next meetup is June 11, 2016. That’s a month out, so it gives you time to sort through your collection of books and decide which ones are worth sacrificing. You can always check their Tumblr here for the next event.
Oh and did I mention the event is absolutely FREE? Well, except you are going to need to buy your own beer.
Here they are on Facebook if you want to keep up with them.
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Posted in Abbey, British History, Day Trip, Flowers, Landmark, Parks, Ruins, tagged Abbey Woods, Architecture, bluebells, British history, day trip, Flowers, Landmark, Lesnes Abbey, london, park, pub, ruins, the old mill on April 25, 2011|
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After my post about bluebonnets and daffodils, I was pointed to this Guardian article on bluebells in Southwest Britain. Seems like the UK has it’s own spring time sea of blue. In the past few weeks I have started to notice blue flowers in small and large patches of green around town. For an excursion, a friend recommend I check out Abbey Wood.
A walk through the ancient south east London woods did not disappoint.
Bluebells at Abbey Wood
Bluebells in Abbey Woods
As we wandered through the woods, we eventually came up on Lesnes Abbey. The abbey, now in ruins, was founded by Richard de Luci in 1178 as penance for his involvement in the murder of Thomas Becket. In 1524, Lesnes was closed by Henry VIII along with scores of other monasteries in England and Wales. The ruins make an interesting backdrop for picnics and the like. The proximity of the woods and abbey to London makes it an easy place to visit.
After our outing, we stopped by the Old Mill, a converted 18th century mill with a large beer garden. The locals were on good form and so was the owner, so we ended our day in Southwest London with a few real ales. I am embarrassed to admit that real ale tastes like flat warm beer to me. Perhaps I need to spend more time at the pub to develop a true appreciation.
Authentic Real Ale at the Old Mill
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Posted in Accents, Airport, Being American, Immigrant Life, Pub, Stereotypes, Transportation, Travel, Waiting, tagged accent, airport, Bar, being American, drinking age, immigrant life, pub, stereotype, Texas, Transport, Travel, waiting on March 2, 2011|
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Photo not mine.
I have two modes when it comes to making it to the airport for a flight. I am either extremely early or barely make it. The other weekend I happened to be extremely early.
Husband and I went to our usual Gatwick pub for a pre-flight beverage and sub-standard reheated frozen snack. I approached the counter and made my order. The bartender squinted. “Um, can I see some I.D?”
The legal drinking age in the UK is 18. I am no longer anywhere near 18. I call bullshit on anyone who wants to tell me I look younger than 18. Nonetheless, I’ll take this as a compliment. I know bartenders in the UK are trained to I.D. anyone who doesn’t look 25. I like to believe that I can pass for 25.
I go to retrieve my passport and make it back to the counter. “Ah, American” he says when he sees it. “You know, I love some American accents. Some of them are really nice. Yours is really nice.”
“Thank you,” I reply. This is a nice surprise. I usually get told that American accents sound like a British person with a mouth full of bubble gum.
He feels the need to go on. He’s compensating with friendliness for having asked for I.D. “Some of them are really bad. Like Texas accents. I hate Texas accents. They are awful.”
I thank him again as I grab my beer.
“Where in the U.S. are you from?” he asks.
“I’m from Texas,” I reply as I prepare to walk away.
His face goes blank and he lets out a stutter.
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