A Foreigner ION BJ GLEBE etn re Ce UM MTT ta)\ Foreigner in Britain Ramé6n Ybarra Rubio and Fiona Smith B Burlington BooksA Foreigner in Britain by Ramén Ybarra Rubio and Fiona Smith Burlington Books P.O. Box 54411 Fai ter 1; Traditional London Burlington Books is an imprint of Danos Books Ltd, IBhapter 2: Cosmopolitan London 14 The publisher gratefully acknowledges the following for providing . 20 Photographs: © AP: page 11; © Image Bank / Getty Images: page 51; © Getty Images / Photo Disc: Page 67; © Shutterstock, Inc: Pages 6, 26 7,9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 19, 21, 22, 24, 25, 27, 28, 30, 31, ter 4: Oxford 2235, 38, 40, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 60, i 32 61, 62, 64, 65, 66, 76, 77, iebapter 5: A Country Christmas 37 Chapter 6: Cardiff The publisher would like to thank the following people: Be 7 Cornwall 41 Castellano: Elena Terén Herranz Catala: Maria Esteve Serravifials Chapter 8: Manchester 2 Euskara: Joan Ignazio Bereziartua Iraola a Galego: Ramsn Nicols Rodriguez Chapter 9: Edinburgh A f Scotland ee, }: More of Sc All rights reserved by the publisher. No part of this publication may sabe peer. 10: Moy be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any F 65 form or by any means ~ electronic, mechanical, photocopying or Epilogue otherwise — without permission in writing from the publisher. 68 Glossary 76 ISBN 978-9963-51-025-2 porter Cueteaier Pome Copyright © 2013 Burlington Books Burlington Reader No. NB1.04 Oo. 8 Ol oad ese] 22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 tsINTRODUCCION Antonio es un joven espafiol al que le encanta ir a Gran Bretaia con frecuencia porque tiene muchos amigos alli. En este relato le acompafiaremos en varios viajes para recorrer sus lugares preferidos de Inglaterra, Gales y Escocia, recopilados en un libro en el que descubriremos el mundo de las costumbres y tradiciones briténicas, Ademés, conoceremos a sus amigos y compartiremos con ellos divertidas experiencias de lo més variopintas: desde un partido de faitbol de primera hasta la tradicional celebracién de Nochevieja en Escocia. Este libro nos ofrece la posibilidad de adquirir una vision mas amplia de Gran Bretafia, especialmente de los briténicos, a los que conoceremos més a fondo. INTRODUCCIO 1’Antonio és un jove espanyol a qui li encanta anar sovint a la Gran Bretanya perqué alla té molts amics. En aquest relat 'acompanyarem en alguns viatges per rec6rrer els seus locs preferits d’Anglaterra, Galles i Escdcia, aplegats en un Ilibre en el qual descobrirem el mén dels costums i tradicions britanics. A més, coneixerem els seus amics i compartirem amb ells divertides experiéncies molt diverses. Des d'un partit de futbol de primera fins a la tradicional celebracié de la nit de cap d’any a Escdcia. Aquest llibre ens ofereix la possibilitat de tenir una visié més amplia de la Gran Bretanya, especialment dels britanics, els quals coneixerem més a fons, SARRERA Antonio espainiar gazte bat da, biziki gogoko duena Britainia Handira sarri joatea, han adiskide asko baititu. Kontakizun honetan zenbait bidaiatan lagunduko diogu, Ingalaterrako, Galesko eta Eskoziako Iekurik gogokoenetan barrena ibiltzeko. Leku horiek biltzen dituen liburu honetan, britainiar ohituren cta usadioen mundua ezagutuko dugu. Gainera, haren adiskideak cre ezagutuko ditugu, eta esperientzia dibertigarriak biziko ditugu haickin batera, arras askotarikoak: lehen mailako futbol-partida batetik hasi eta Eskozian Urtezahar gau tradizionala ospatzeraino. Liburu honek aukera emango digu Britainia Handiaz ikusmolde zabalagoa izateko, batez ere britainiarrez, sakonkiago ezagutuko baititugu. Limiar Antonio é un mozo espafiol a quen Ile engaiola ir a Gran Bretafia adoito porque ten moitos amigos alf. Neste relato acompafiarémolo en varias viaxes para percorrer os seus lugares preferidos en Inglaterra, Gales ¢ Escocia, recompilados nun libro no que descubriremos 0 mundo dos costumes e tradiciéns briténicas. Alén diso, cofeceremos 08 seus amigos e compartiremos con eles divertidas experiencias do mis diverso: desde un partido de fiitbol de primeira ata o tradicional festexo de Noitevella en Escocia. Este libro ofrécenos a posibilidade de adquirir unha visién mis ampla de Gran Bretafia, de xeito especial dos briténicos, aos que cofeceremos mais a fondo,1 Tick the things you think a foreigner in Britain might see. Antonio os PY ae a foreigner in Britain M. eae Cy>~- a : ENGLAND | WALES 2 Imagine someone is visiting your country. What things would you suggest he / she sees? Make a list and tell the class.iti My name’s Antonio and I’m Spanish, but my father is American. I've just finished my degree. I studied English at Salamanca University, probably the most popular Spanish university among foreign students. Sometimes, there were somany British people around me that I almost forgot that I was in Spain! I made some good British friends there and I love going to visit them in Britain. One day, I was sitting in a café in Madrid with my English friend, Mark. We were drinking cold drinks and eating tapas. “Britain’s a funny place,” I said. “what do you mean, funny?’ Mark asked. Well, it’s ... different,” I said. “There are so many contradictions about Britain — the British people, for example. Sometimes, they're cold and distant. When they sit on buses or trains, especially on the underground, they don’t usually look at anybody and nobody talks. But they like travelling to different countries and meeting different people. Also there’s their appearance — the young people have red or blue hair and some of their clothes are ... well ... strange!” “You're generalising,” said Mark. “Not all British people are reserved and not all young British people have red or blue hair! And are you talking about the British or the English? Because we're not all English, you know. It’s called Britain for a reason. It includes the Scots and the Welsh as well.” “Yes, I know, and I am generalising. But I've seen some strange things in Scotland and Wales as well,” 1 explained. “Antonio, what are you trying to say?” Mark asked, with a smile. “ym trying to say that Britain is a fascinating place. The Engli Scots and Welsh are fascinating people and Britain has a wonderful culture and history. Every time I go there, something surprises me.” “Well, you said you wanted to be a writer. Perhaps you should write about Britain,” laughed Mark. “Yes, pethaps I should. That's a good idea,” I answered. And that’s exactly what I did! I wrote about my impressions as a foreigner in Britain ~ the country, the people, the culture, the food and, of course, the weather! Here’s the book — I hope you enjoy it! CoN ie Traditional London I love visiting London. It’s one of the most exciting cities in the world. There’s something for everyone — a rich history, wonderful museums, great theatre, innovative music and an incredible variety of ethnic food. Recently, I visited London for the New Year with Pablo, a Spanish friend of mine. He had never been there before. At the end of our first day, we went toa pub. Like many pubs in Britain, it had a very relaxed atmosphere. There were comfortable chairs, a carpet on the floor, and the beers, which are usually served in pint glasses ~ a pint is approximately hting wasn’t very bright. It also had an enormous selection of half litre. We got a couple of pints of beer and sat down to talk, but the barman soon interrupted our conversation. “Sorry, gentlemen,” he said. “We're closing in 20 minutes. Can I get you anything else?’ 1 ordered two more pints and promised the barman that we would finish them before closing time. At the end of our first day, we went to a pub.Britain’s most distinctive tradition — afternoon tea “He's joking, isn’t he? It's only 10.40!" exclaimed Pablo, as the barman went to the bar to get our pints. “"No, he isn’t,” laughed. “That's what happens here.” “Then let’s finish our beers quickly and find another pub that doesn’t close so early,” said Pablo. “You don’t understand,” I explained. “Most of the pubs in Britain close at the same time - 11.00.” “That's crazy!” exclaimed Pablo. “There are bars in Spain that don’t open until 11.00!” “Well, maybe that’s the reason why British people drink so quickly!” I said. As we walked out of the pub, I asked Pablo what his first impressions of London were. His answer surprised me. “| think it’s a very traditional city,” he said. “The buildings, the way of life - even the time that the pubs close!” I had never thought of that before. He was right! London’s a very modern and cosmopolitan city, but itis also very traditional. “Well, Pablo,” I said. “Tomorrow, I'll take you for what I think is Britain’s most distinctive tradition ~ afternoon tea.” “But the British drink tea all the time. Why is drinking tea in the afternoon so distinctive?” asked Pablo. “You'll see tomorrow,” I said. “Trust me.” The next afternoon, I took Pablo to a good hotel in the centre of London. We sat at a table in a beautiful room enjoying the tea and the atmosphere. Everyone in the tearoom was nicely dressed. “Everything is so civilised here, isn’t it?” Pablo exclaimed. “Yes, it certainly is,” I replied, smiling. “You see, tea in Britain is a light meal, often eaten around 4 o'clock.” The tearoom was full of people sitting at tables, drinking tea and talking quietly. Many of the people were eating small cucumber sandwiches, cake and scones. Scones are a type of sweet bread that you eat with jam and cream. I don’t like cream, so I ate my scone just with jam. “It's difficult to believe that I'm in the largest capital city in Europe in the 21st century,” said Pablo. “It feels like I’m in one of those old British films!” On New Year's Eve, Pablo and I went to Trafalgar Square, which is the traditional place to celebrate New Year's Eve in London. It is an cnormous area quite near Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, and there were more than 20,000 people in the square! Almost everyone was wearing funny hats and there was a very festive atmosphere. Midnight finally came and we waited to hear Big Ben announce the New Year. The countdown began. “Ten! Nine! Eight! ... Three! ‘Twol ...” Suddenly, people began to shout, “Happy New Year!” We couldn’t hear the bells because there was so much noise. Aman turned round to wish us a Happy New Year and saw that we looked disappointed. “what's wrong?” he asked. “It’s New Year's Eve! It’s time to have fun!” “1 didn’t hear the bells,” I replied. “I thought that people came here to listen to Big Ben at midnight.” The man smiled and said, “Well, I've been here many times on New Year's Eve and I’ve never heard them. There are too many people here. You need to be next to Big Ben to hear it.” Pablo and I were completely confused. “Then, why do you come here?” asked Pablo. The man didn’t hesitate. “Because it’s tradition, mate,” he said. Trafalgar Square, LondonThe new Globe Theatre One of London’s greatest traditions is producing some of the best theatre in the world. I don’t think a visit to London is complete without going to the theatre. There are 60 theatres in London, most of them in the West End, London's theatre district. 1 try to go to the theatre at least once when I visit London. My most memorable theatrical experience in London was two years ago and it wasn’t in the West End. It was in an area called Southwark (pronounced “Suthark’) on the south bank of the River Thames, at the Globe Theatre. The original Globe Theatre was where most of Shakespeare’s plays were performed for the first time. It was built in 1599 but unfortunately, burned down in the middle of the 17th century and was destroyed again 30 years later. The new Globe Theatre was finished in 1997, only 300 years later! I had studied Shakespeare at university and was excited about seeing one of his plays in the theatre where they were originally performed. The Globe has the shape of an ‘O’ and plays are only performed from April until October because there isn’t a roof over the centre of the building. If it rains, you get wet — and it rains a lot in London! I went in August and it rained both before and after the performance, but fortunately not during! The theatre has seats for over 1,000 people and another 700 people can stand in the centre of the ‘0’, The people who stand are called ‘groundlings’. I had a fantastic time at the Globe. 1 bought a groundling ticket for the afternoon performance. Nearly everyone had an umbrella and the ground was wet and muddy from the rain. 1 was quite cold at the start of the play, but soon forgot about it because I was having a great time. The actors made some of their entrances and exits by pushing through the audience. I almost fell into the mud when one of the actors pushed me as he was leaving. Luckily, a young man behind stopped me falling. I took advantage of a five-minute break between acts to thank him. His name was Mike and he was a lighting designer from a theatre in the West End. “This is incredible,” I said. “Except for the fact that everyone is wearing modern clothes, I feel like I’m back in the early 1600s.” “Well, there are a few other differences,” said Mike. “Really? What are they?” I asked. “Well, one difference is that today, women play the female Toles,” Mike explained. “Women weren't allowed to be actresses in Shakespeare's time. The female roles were played by teenage boys.” “Yes, I know. I must admit that I prefer seeing real women on stage!” I said. “So do I, mate,” agreed Mike. “What are some of the other differences?” I asked. “Probably the biggest difference between Shakespeare’s time and now is that then the ‘groundlings’ ate, drank and talked during the performance,” he explained.“But then they'd be too distracted to watch the play, wouldn't they?” L asked “Believe me, they paid attention,” Mike assured me. “As a matter of fact, if they didn’t like an actor's performance, they shouted at him and even threw their food at him!” “It's a pity that modern audiences are much more polite. It would be fun to feel like a real groundling from Shakespeare's time,” I said with a laugh. “Listen, I've come to the Globe many times,” said Mike. “The audiences are more polite, but I've seen some strange things happen here.” Before I could ask him to give me some examples, the next act began and we both started to watch the performance. About ten minutes later, Mike whispered in my car, “Do you want to sce something strange?” “Of course,” I answered. “Then look to your right,” Mike said. I casually looked to my right and was completely surprised by what I saw, There was a girl standing a few metres away from me feeding a small dog she had under her arm! It was definitely the first and only time I’ve seen a dog in the audience at the theatre! Mike and I went for a coffee after the performance. He told me that he could get me free tickets to the theatre whenever I visited London. He's certainly a good person to know! Cosmopolitan London London's ethnic diversity makes it a very special city. People from almost every part of the world live here i + This was obvious to Pablo and me when we took the underground from the airport to the centre of the city. People of every nationality were travelling on ‘ the train and it was nice to see that everyone seemed accustomed to the great variety of races and religions in this city. We stared at an orthodox Muslim woman who was sitting opposite us. Only her eyes were uncovered and we couldn't stop looking at her because we don’t often see a woman dressed this way. No one else paid any attention to her. If you're a person who likes eating different types of food, London is the place to go. I've eaten food from many parts of the world here and most of it has been excellent. Indian food is especially popular. When we arrived back at our hotel on the afternoon of our second day in London, I asked the lady at reception to recommend a few good restaurants in the area. She said that there was a very good Indian restaurant close to the hotel. Pablo shook his head. “No, Twant to eat something that’s typically British,” he said. The lady laughed. “You don’t understand,” she said. “Indian food is typically British.” “Oh, I see,” replied Pablo. When we got into the lift, he looked at me and said, surprised, “Perhaps London isn’t as traditional as I thought.” I laughed and decided to take him to places that showed London’s ethnic diversity, like Chinatown. A parade in ChinatownChinatown is in the middle of the theatre district and it feels wonderful to cross a street and enter a completely different culture. There are lots of excellent Chinese restaurants there, as well as many Asian supermarkets. We especially liked walking through the Chinese fruit markets. “Look at this!” exclaimed Pablo. “Look at what?” I asked, “This fruit,” he said. “I've never seen most of this fruit before. It’s so exotic.” “There are lots of exotic things in London if you know where to "I told him. “Like what?” Pablo asked. “Well, London has a Caribbean carnival. It’s a huge annual carnival and it takes place towards the end of August, in an area of London called Notting Hill. My friend Mike took me to the carnival a couple of weeks after I met him at the Globe,” I explained. London’s Caribbean carnival “That sounds interesting. What happens during the carnival?” asked Pablo. “Well, Notting Hill has a big West Indian population and thousands of people go to the carnival to eat West Indian food and dance to Caribbean music. Mike and I walked through the streets and there were people of all cultures celebrating together. At one point, I closed my eyes and it felt like I was in the Caribbean instead of London! I was surrounded by West Indian accents, music and smells.” “It sounds fantastic!” exclaimed Pablo. “It was ... oh, and I remember another interesting thing that happened that afternoon,” I told him. “What was that?” he asked. “Well, from the carnival, we went to Mike's flat in one of London’s famous black taxis. After a few minutes, the driver began to talk to us. He was speaking English but I couldn’t understand him! He was using Cockney rhyming slang!” “What's that?” Pablo interrupted. “Luckily, Mike explained it to me. He told me that the driver was a Cockney and that Cockneys are traditionally from the East End of London. They have a very strange way of talking, called Cockney rhyming slang. For example, “When my friend called me on the ‘dog and bone’ (phone) last night, I ran down the ‘apples and pears’ (stairs) to answer it.” “That's incredible! surprises!” exclaimed Pablo. “London is full ofACTIVITIES PROLOGUE & CHAPTERS 1 Circle the correct word in the sentences below. 1. The stage / shape was ready for the play. 2. The building burnt down / surrounded to the ground. 3, The girl was uncovering / feeding the dog some meat. 4, There are a couple of / wonderful weeks in August when I can visit you. 5. We didn’t enjoy the play because it was a terrible square / performance. 6. On New Year’s Eve, there is a fun atmosphere / appearance in the streets of London. 2 Match the word closest in meaning to the bolded word in each sentence. The city of London was founded by the Romans, who invaded Britain in 43 AD and then built a bridge across the River Thames. The Romans decided it was a good place to build a port, so merchants built a town by the bridge in 50 AD, and that's how London was born. 3 Match A to B to form true sentences about the story. Antonio loves visiting Britain . At the pub, Pablo was surprised . On New Year’s Eve, people go to Trafalgar Square . There are no performances in winter at the Globe Theatre . Antonio couldn’t understand the taxi driver . Antonio nearly fell in the theatre AavpWNE smu. it closed so early. b. there isn’t a roof. .¢. itis the tradition. vw, he was a Cockney. ¢. he likes seeing his British friends. f, an actor pushed him. 4. A stereotype is a fixed idea of what a person or thing belonging to a certain group is like. What stereotypes did Pablo have about the British? Which did he find were wrong? Write the answers in your notebook. 5 Answer the questions. Write the answers in your notebook. Where did Antonio meet his British friends? What did Antonio and Pablo haye for afternoon tea? What happened to the original Globe Theatre? What differences are there between today’s Globe Theatre performances and performances in the 1600s? . Why do you think there is a Caribbean carnival in Notting Hill? BR ‘www. burlingtonbooks.es/actread aNYork When tourists visit a place or a country alone, I think they see more. They watch and observe things more closely because they're not distracted by their companions. It can sometimes be lonely, but most of the time they experience more, mect more people and make new friends — like the weekend I was in York. 1 didn’t know anyone in York, but I really wanted to go there. It's only two hours by train from London, so when Pablo went home after the New Year, I decided to go to York on my own for a weekend. On Friday afternoon, I went to King’s Cross railway station by underground. It’s the most crowded place on the planet on Friday afternoons! On the train, 1 got out my guidebook and found the section on York. I wanted to read the information about this famous historical city again before I arrived. I read that King George VI (the father of Queen Elizabeth II) once said that the history of York was the history of England. The Romans were in York, as were the Saxons and the Normans, but I wanted to go to York because the Vikings had been there. I still remembered the cartoons I used to watch when I was a child. 1 enjoyed the images of the Viking invaders, who were fierce and strong, with big beards and horns on their helmets. The real history of the Vikings was sometimes violent and terrible, but I also think that these men were braye to go to sea in their longboats more than 1,000 years ago, to look for new lands and adventure. My guidebook said that the Vikings built the city they called ‘Jorvik’, or York, as it is called today. They were in York for almost 100 years after that, from 866 AD to 954 AD. I read in my guidebook about the museums in York. It said: ‘The Jorvik Viking Centre is unique. Archeologists found part of the Viking town preserved in mud under the modern town. Experts have recreated the sights, sounds and even the smells of Jorvik in 948 AD.’ The Scottish lady next to me saw I was reading a guidebook and asked, “Have you been to York before?” “No, this is my first visit and I'm really looking forward to it,” Ttold her. “Well, I think you'll like it. 1 remember when I went there with my daughters. They were about 14 and 17 at the time. My elder daughter was learning about York in her history classes. We went to York Minster, the famous cathedral, climbed up to the top of the tower and then walked round the city walls. | remember that my younger daughter loved the Jorvik Viking Centre, especially the toilets!” “What do you mean, the toilets?” “You'll see,” she smiled. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise.” “Do you live in York now?” I asked her. “No, I go there to visit an old school friend occasionally,” she answered. “Barbara and I have been friends since 1950. She has a small B & B in the city centre which she has owned for the last 20 years.” “What's a B & B?” I asked. “It’s a type of guest house. B & B stands for ‘Bed and Breakfast’. She has four rooms and cooks breakfast for the people who stay there. Are you looking for somewhere to stay?” “Yes, but I don’t have very much money to spend,” I told her. “1 think it’s quite cheap!” she said. “Tl write down the e-mail address and telephone number and you can call her now, or book a room online.” I found a piece of paper and a pen and she wrote down all the details. Iwas lucky to meet that lady on the train. I called immediately and booked the last available single room. Green Guest House was cheap and Mrs Green was very kind. It was like staying with my own grandmother! At 8.00 am, she cooked me a traditional English breakfast of bacon, sausages, fried eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms and toast! It wasJorvik Viking Centre enormous! It’s lucky that most British people only eat this huge breakfast occasionally If not, they would all be really fat ~ and late for work! After breakfast, she gave me a map of the city and showed me how to get to the Jorvik Viking Centre. I decided to go there later in the morning. Tbought my ticket at the door and then Vikings (actors, of course!) took a group of us down the stairs into their town. We walked down, deep under the ground, to the level of York’s streets as they had been in 948 AD, before they were buried under all the layers of the next 1,000 years. We got on alittle car, which took us back in time, closer and closer to the world of the Vikings in York. We travelled down a corridor, past models of people from the 1960s. Next, we saw models of soldiers from the Second World War (1939-1945) and then the First World War (1914-1918). After that, there were people from the 1800s, the 1600s ... further and further into the past. Finally, we arrived at Coppergate Market in October, 948 AD. There were the old streets and scenes, and there was a soundtrack of people shouting, laughing and talking. Our little car stopped and we watched the animals, the people in the market and the children playing. There was even a strange smell. I can’t describe it ... it was ... different, a smell from another time. After the market, we went down a hill and past a river where there was a boat and two fishermen. The fishermen were sitting on the bank next to their boat and they were telling a little Viking boy about their adventures. He was sitting on the ground and was clearly fascinated by their stories. “T tell you, Toki, we've had a rough sea for the last few days. Ivar nearly drowned!” said one of the fishermen, who was holding a net. “That's not true! I was only trying to see the fish in the water,” said the other fisherman, laughing. “There was Ivar, with his head under the water. We pulled him into the boat by his boots!” exclaimed the first man. “Did I tell you about the time ... 2” Our car continued on its journey. We stopped outside a house where a Viking family was making dinner. There were herbs drying above the fire and animal skins on the bed. Chickens were running around the house and you could smell the food. You could also smell the toilet! So this was what the lady on the train was talking about. There was a toilet ~ with the original seat — behind the house, with pieces of old clothes next to it, for toilet paper. There was even a model of an old man on the toilet!York ‘The visit was incredible because it wasn’t just old things in a museum, it was the recreation of a real town. The characters had Viking names like Eric Blood Axe and Ivar the Boneless. With the sounds and the smells, I felt 1 really was in a Viking town. There should be more exhibitions like that - learning history would be much more interesting. When I left the Jorvik Viking Centre, it was a lovely sunny day. It was cold, but the sky was blue and I decided to go for a walk around the city. The weather in Britain is generally so bad that when there’s a nice day, you really appreciate it! There were lots of people in the streets. The people who lived in York were walking quickly, but the tourists like me were walking slowly, looking at the old city walls and the buildings and sometimes, stopping on corners to look at their maps. On one corner, someone stopped me. “Excuse me,” he said, “could you tell me the way to York Minster?” I laughed and explained to him that I was also visiting York, but that I had a map if he wanted to look. “Are you here on holiday?” I asked him. “Yeah, I'm from Chicago and I came to Britain for Christmas to see my cousin,” he said. “Where are you from?” “Ym from Madrid. I’m Spanish, but my father's American,” 1 answered. “He's from New York.” “Nice to meet you. I’m John,” he said. “I'm Antonio, pleased to meet you.” We both looked at the map and decided to go to see York Minster together. York Minster is the biggest Gothic cathedral in Northern Europe and it is very impressive. It took more than 250 years to build and was finished in the 1470s. The stained glass windows tell a story. The Great East Window is the largest medieval stained glass window in Britain and shows the beginning and end of the world. We climbed up to the top of the central tower and there we could see the whole of York. The city centre is quite compact and is still enclosed by the old walls, like Avila in Spain. I got my guidebook out and we both looked at the map. We tried to name the places we could see below us. It was fun spending time with John. He was so surprised and impressed by everything he saw. It was his first trip to Britain and he wanted to see and do everything. Everywhere we went, he wanted to know if there were ghosts! We visited the Castle Museum and the guide told us that at night, people sometimes hear the ghosts of former prisoners, crying and pulling their chains across the stone floors. John wanted to stay the night in the castle and listen to the ghosts! Fortunately, I persuaded him that his hotel room would be much more comfortable! The next day, we decided to take the same train to London. On the train, we exchanged e-mail addresses and we still write from time to time. He says I must go and visit him in Chicago when I go to the States. “In Chicago we've got gangsters, not ghosts!” he laughed. “They're even more frightening!” York MinsterCHAPTER 4 Oxford A few years ago, I had a girlfriend called Lisa who was studying at Oxford University. I say ‘had’ because she isn’t my girlfriend any more. I won't explain the reasons for the end of our romance here. After all, this is a book about Britain and not about ex-girlfriends! One of the positive things that came from my relationship with Lisa was the opportunity to visit Oxford. I had wanted to go there for a long time because it’s one of the most historically interesting towns in Britain. Oxford University is one of the oldest and most prestigious universities in the world. Twenty-six British Prime Ministers have been educated there as well as many other famous people like Oscar Wilde, the playwright, poet and writer, and Bill Clinton, the former president of the United States. The university is also known for preserving traditions that are centuries old. Unfortunately, I was immediately disappointed when I arrived in Oxford. I got off the bus and found myself in the middle of the town’s shopping district. There were modern shops, Burger Kings and Pizza Huts everywhere. When Lisa arrived to meet me, she saw my disappointment. “What's wrong?” she asked. “This isn’t what I expected,” I replied. “I expected a town that’s full of history, not pizzerias.” Lisa laughed. “There is a lot of history here,” she said. “You just have to look for it.” ‘The next day, Lisa had classes all day, so I went for a walk to find the ‘real’ Oxford. It didn’t take long. I soon found all the different colleges that form Oxford University. I walked past buildings that were centuries old, all with beautiful gardens. 1 walked through the gardens in Magdalen College, down to the river. Magdalen (pronounced ‘Maudlin’) has a very beautiful bell tower, next to a medieval bridge. By 1.00 pm, I was hungry and decided to have some fish and chips, a typically British meal. I walked back towards the town centre to find a traditional pub that served fish and chips, but it wasn’t easy. The centre of the town was full of restaurants and cafeterias that offered everything except what I was looking for. | continued walking until I reached a working-class neighbourhood that had a few traditional-looking pubs. | stopped outside one of them and looked at the menu. They had fish and chips! Success! But I was completely unprepared for the reception that I received when I walked into the pub. Everyone stopped talking and looked at me in silence. The barman took my order and walked away. He didn’t even say hello. I was confused by everyone’s cold attitude. Normally, British people are friendly in pubs. I tried to begin a conversation when the barman brought me my food. “Thanks,” I said. “This is a nice pub. It’s my first time in Oxford and I wanted to eat somewhere that wasn’t a pizzeria!” The barman looked surprised. “You mean you're not a student?” “No, I'm just visiting,” I replied. The barman smiled apologetically. “Sorry, mate,” he said. “We thought that you were a student from the university.” “T don’t understand,” I said. “Townspeople and university students haven’t got on well with each other for more than 600 years,” the barman explained. Then he told me that the problem began with the Scholastica Massacre in 1355. A sunny day cat Oxford UniversityOxford “QA fight began between two drunken students and a tavern owner,” he said. “Most of the townspeople and students soon joined in the fight and hundreds of people were killed. Since then, relations between the townspeople and the students haven't been very good.” “Really?” I replied. “I usually like tradition, but it seems a bit ridiculous to have a 600-year-old tradition based on bad relations between two groups of people, doesn't it?” On my way back to Lisa’s flat, I passed a sign marking the place of the location of the original tavern where the massacre had taken place. But when I got to Lisa’s flat, I didn’t have much time to think any more about the Scholastica Massacre. We had to get ready for one of Oxford’s more pleasant traditions, the May Ball and May Morning. This medieval tradition celebrates the arrival of spring. The May Balls are very elegant dances where the men wear dinner suits, called ‘black tie’, and the women wear formal dresses. T teally enjoyed the Ball. There was plenty of good food and champagne and I spent most of the night dancing with lots of different people. By 4.00 am, Iwas tired. I went and found Lisa, who was talking to some of her friends. “ym a little tired,” I said. “How do you feel? Do you want to go home soon?” “I'm quite tired too,” she answered. “But we have to stay until the Ball ends. We have to see the sunrise.” “why?” “Because it’s tradition, silly,” she replied. Again! Tradition! Just before sunrise, the Ball ended and everyone walked together to Magdalen Bridge. A large crowd of people was already there. At 6.00 am, a boys’ choir appeared at the top of the Great Tower of Magdalen College and began to sing hymns to the people standing on the bridge. It was one of those moments that you never forget for the rest of your life. The beautiful singing of the choir complemented the beautiful sunrise that we saw. It was magical. The sun, big and red, was rising on the horizon and illuminating the sky with a wide variety of colours ~ yellow, orange, red, blue and violet. Suddenly, a couple of people from the Ball jumped into the river from the bridge. “Are they mad?” I asked. “They’re jumping into the river, and it’s very dangerous!” “I know, and they could get into trouble with the police for it,” Lisa answered. “Once, all the students used to do it. But in 2005, about 40 people were injured when they jumped in. After that, the authorities closed the bridge to stop the tradition.” “I'm not surprised,” I said. “It sounds like a crazy tradition to me.” “They re-opened the bridge in 2011, but the police posted notices everywhere warning people not to jump,” explained Lisa. “Those guys are taking a chance.” British people never stop surprising me. Next, we went into the city centre. All the restaurants and pubs are given special permission to open early on that day. There were acrobats performing in the street and Oxford was one big carnival. I finally went to sleep at 1.00 pm! Lisa and I separated soon after my visit to Oxford. However, the best memories of my relationship with her are the ones that I have from my visit to this lovely old town.POSER TS 1 Complete the sentences with the correct adjective below. fierce lonely formal crowded deep drunken 1. You must wear ra dress in this elegant restaurant. 2. Many people came to the party and the room became very 3. The lion is a -ummeuun and dangerous animal 4, You can’t see the fish because they are in mn _. water. pine ee mene Man fell down in the street. 6. Limagine that living on a desert island with nobody around is very 2 Complete the sentences with a suitable word or expression to show you understand the word in bold. 1, He wasn’t wearing a helmet, so he hurt his... Pipleaseineam , Lwant to be alone! . Thave very old memories from when I was . Tlive in a small neighbourhood and we all BYeN each other. . There is a warning sign at the zoo: 6. the little boy drowned because he didn’t know how to 7. Llike waking up ... to see the sunrise. The Vikings were sailors from North Europe who travelled, explored, invaded and traded. They settled in different areas around Europe and Asia from the 8th to I Ith centuries. Although they were feared as violent pirates, they were also poets, lawmakers and great artists. 3. Answer the questions according to the story. 1. After breakfast, she gave me a map of the city. Which city? Mae wisi eee enia Nee ae was the recreation of a real town. WHICH VSI? men I expected a town that’s fall of history, not pizzerias. Which town? We had to get ready for one of Oxford’s more pleasant traditions. Which tradition? ... N » » v . They could get into trouble with the police. Who? 4: How did the barman’s behaviour to Antonio change when he discovered that he wasn’t a student? What was the reason? Write the answers in your notebook. 5 Answer the questions. Write the answers in your notebook. . Why did Antonio think the Vil . What makes the Jorvik Viking Centre different from ordinary museums? . Why is York Minster so impressive? . Why did Antonio want to visit Oxford? . Why did the authorities close the bridge in Oxford? gs were brave? VR UNCHAPTER 5 A Country Christmas In the United States when I was young, the same films were on television every Christmas. One film was my favourite and I watched it every year. It was called Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and it was about a beautiful old car that could fly and took the owner to a magic land. The story was great, but what I really wanted was that car. “Englands —_ Fifteen years later — last Christmas Eve — my dream had come true! green andy was driving (well, I was in the passenger seat) through the English countryside in a 1925 Bentley, a beautiful English car. It wasn’t the same car, but it reminded me of my favourite film and I felt like a child again. I was wearing a leather hat, a jacket and goggles. It was very, very cold and the sky was grey, but I was the happiest man on Earth. One of my friends from university, Nicola Caswell, who is English, had invited me to her parents’ house for Christmas. My parents were in the States and I hadn’t made any plans for Christmas. She told me her family liked celebrating the festive period ‘properly’ and would be happy to show me an English Christmas. “But 1 hope you won't be bored,” she told me. “Bored? How could I be bored?” I replied. “I've never spent Christmas in England before and I would love going to your parents’ house.” “My parents live in a little village in the country, a long way from the nearest town, which is called Stamford. It’s beautiful and there are lots of old houses and churches, but it’s not very exciting.” “Yd love to spend Christmas with your family. You've told me so much about them. I know I'll have a wonderful time,” I insisted. Nicola had told me about her family, but she hadn’t told me about her father’s old Bentley ~ it didn’t occur to her that I would be interested. She had grown up with it and for her, it wasn’t important. But going for a drive in the Bentley was the best Christmas present ’d had for many years, We drove through narrow country roads to a village where the members of the Bentley Drivers Club were having a Christmas reunion. We were the first people to arrive and we parked outside the pub, next to the village green, an oval area of grass in the middle of the village ‘There was a duck pond and old stone houses and suddenly, there were three more Bentleys coming down the road towards us. “Look, Nicola!” I cried. “I love all those Bentleys!” “Yes, I know,” she replied. “What would you like to drink?” How could she be so calm? This was all so exciting! “Quick, take a photo of me in the car,” I said and gave her my camera. “You're funny!” she said, as she took my photo. “You're like a little boy with a new toy!” “I don’t care! I'm having a great time — and you were worried that Td be bored!” I spent the next hour outside with Hugh Caswell, Nicola’s father, talking to the owners of the Bentleys and looking at the cars and their engines. Then, when we were all so cold that we couldn’t talk, we went inside the pub, sat next to a big fire and drank a pint of good British beer. It was like so many films I had seen about England, but this was real! It was dinnertime on Christmas Eve, but something was wrong. Where were the roast turkey, the roast potatoes and vegetables, the traditional food for a British Christmas? We had a nice meal, but I wasdisappointed because Nicola had told me that her family celebrated Christmas ‘properly’ While we were having coffee, I whispered to Nicola, “Listen. I don’t want to be rude, but doesn’t your family like turkey?” “what do you mean?” she said, looking surprised. “why didn’t we have turkey for Christmas dinner?” Nicola started to laugh and then she explained that in England, they eat the traditional meal on Christmas Day, not on Christmas Eve like we do in Spain. I felt so stupid! I had forgotten that. It was what we used to do when we lived in the United States. Of course, Nicola told her parents and her sister Claire, and they all thought it was very funny. “Don’t worty,” Claire said, “we've got a turkey for tomorrow and it’s enormou ‘After dinner, we all went to Midnight Mass in the village church, just like the Spanish tradition. I sat next to Nicola’s mother, Judy. “There are a lot of people here tonight,” she whispered to me. “Normally, on Sundays, there are only 30 or 40 people in church but it’s a tradition to come to Midnight Mass. Many people come who don’t normally go to church.” “This is wonderful,” I whispered to her. “Thank you for inviting me to spend Christmas with you.” “Tr’s our pleasure,” she said. “We're very happy that you're here. It’s lovely to see you enjoying yourself so much.” I was enjoying myself because it was different and because everything was new for me, Also Nicola, her parents and Claire made me feel like part of their family. I felt very lucky and when we stood up to sing Oh Come, All Ye Faithful, a traditional British Christmas carol, I sang with everyone else and had a big smile on my face. That night, Father Christmas came to the house and left presents for everyone. Obviously, it wasn’t really Father Christmas, but Nicola, Claire and their parents continued the tradition they had started when the girls were children. “Most families leave stockings for Father Christmas, but we always have pillow cases. We're lucky — our Father Christmas is very generous!” Nicola told me. “When we were young, we used to leave mince pies — the traditional Christmas pastries - for Father Christmas next to the fireplace. He could come down the chimney and have something to eat before he left our presents,” explained Claire. “One year, Claire left a carrot in the garden for the reindeer,” laughed Nicola, “and in the morning there was only half a carrot!” “Hmmm. I don’t normally cat carrots at 1.00 am,” said their father, “but then Christmas is a special occasion!” On Christmas morning, when I got up and opened the curtains, the whole world outside was white. It was snowing! How perfect! “After we've opened our presents, we'll go for a walk,” Nicola told me at breakfast. “But it’s still snowing, we'll get wet,” I protested. “1 know, but it will be fun!” she replied. “Everybody dreams about a ‘white’ Christmas.” A country Christmas‘We all sat around the Christmas tree and opencd the little presents from Father Christmas. He had left some traditional English mustard for me, made with beer! Then, the family exchanged their presents with each other, And they hadn't forgotten me either — Nicola’s parents gave me a bottle of Scotch whisky and Nicola gave me a book about Shakespeare. And then, as Nicola had promised, we all went for a walk in the snow. “We have to get some exercise before we have the turkey!” Judy told me, “After the meal, we won't be able to move!” We walked across the fields and through a wood to the next village and then home again. We got cold and wet, but we all had great fun in the snow. ‘At dinnertime, when we sat down, there were things called Christmas crackers on every plate. These crackers are cylindrical in shape and made of different-coloured paper. Two people have to hold each end of a cracker and pull. The cracker opens with a “Bang!” and inside there is a coloured paper hat, a joke written on a piece of paper and a small present. We all ate dinner wearing red, blue and green hats. At first, I felt.silly, but then J realised that it was part of the tradition of Christmas. And our Christmas dinner was exactly what I had hoped it would be. We had turkey, lots of potatoes and vegetables, good red wine (from Rioja!) and then we had Christmas pudding, the traditional Christmas dessert made with raisins and almonds. Delicious! ‘That night, I told the Caswell family that this had been a very memorable Christmas for me. “We like Christmas to be special,” said Hugh. “For Judy and myself, the religious side is important, but the opportunity to celebrate as a family is more important.” “| Jike coming home and having a day when we all enjoy being together. And 1 like the fact that Christmas is the same every year,” added Claire. “J like the tradition,” said Nicola. Exactly, the tradition. It was a Christmas that J will never forget. Cardiff One Sunday morning two years ago, I was at home in Madrid reading the paper in bed. As usual, I had started to read the travel section first because I love reading about different countries. I was imagining life on a small island in the Caribbean when my phone rang. “Hello?” I said, staring at the travel guide. “Antoni¢ ‘Hi, it’s Gareth.” “Gareth! How are you?’ I replied, happy to hear his voice. I've known Gareth since I was a child. Our fathers were university friends and our families always spent holidays together in Almeria. Gareth comes from a very old Welsh family and lives in Cardiff. Although Wales was a country I had always wanted to visit, [hadn't managed to go there yet. “Listen, I’m calling you to tell you that you must come to Wales at the end of July. This time, you have no excuse,” Gareth said. “Why?” I asked. “Because I'm getting married!” Gareth replied. “Congratulations!” I exclaimed. “I’ll be there. I can’t miss your wedding.” I was excited about finally going to Wales. The only thing that T knew about the country was that the people spoke a language called Welsh, a completely different language from English. In this sense, it reminded me of the different parts of Spain, which have their om languages as well. The fancy wedding invitation said that the ceremony and the reception would be held at a place called Castell Coch (Red Castle), nine kilometres north of Cardiff. 1 wasn’t prepared for what 1 saw when I arrived there. It was a fairy-tale castle like the ones you see in Disney films! The interior looked like Cinderella’s castle. During the reception, I took advantage of a moment when Gareth the voice saiCastell Coch, Wales was alone to ask him about the castle. “This place is incredible!” I exclaimed. “Can you tell me a little about it?” “Sorry, | don’t know much about it,” he answered. “But I know someone who can answer all your questions. Wait here. I'll be back in a minute.” He came back a minute later with the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. “This is my cousin, Angharad (pronounced ‘Anjarad’),” he said. “She's studying for her Master's degree in Welsh culture and history.” ; ‘Angharad had long red hair, pale skin, big blue eyes and an angelic face, When she smiled at me, my face went a deep red and 1 was in love! Angharad started to tell us about the castle, “Tt was built between 1875 and 1879 on the foundations of a 13th century castle by a local nobleman and his architect. They wanted to build a fantasy medieval castle . 1 wanted to listen to my beautiful new friend all evening, but another woman arrived and interrupted her explanation. “Angharad, the bride is waiting to have a photograph taken with you,” said the woman. Angharad excused herself and promised that she would return in a minute. I turned to Gareth. “Why didn’t you introduce me to your cousin before?” I asked, “Because you've never come to Wales before!” he replied. “You're absolutely right,” I said. “I must see her-again. Has she got... 2” “... boyfriend?” interrupted Gareth. “No, she hasn’t.” “Do you think I can convince her to have dinner with me?” Tasked. “I don’t know. You'll have to ask her and find out,” said Gareth. “However, I can show you something that will impress her when you ask. Do you see those spoons?” Gareth pointed to a table in the middle of the room that was covered with food and wine. The table was decorated with hand-painted wooden spoons. “Those are called ‘love spoons’,” Gareth explained. “There’s an old Welsh custom in which a young man gives a love spoon to the girl he likes as a symbol of his affection for her. Give one to my cousin before you ask her to have dinner with you.” Angharad returned and Gareth excused himself to talk to some other guests, leaving me alone with his beautiful cousin. British people are so discreet! As Angharad continued talking about the castle, I slowly walked with her towards the table. 1 put my hand behind me and picked up a love spoon. I gave her the spoon and asked her if she would like to have dinner with me. She was so surprised and impressed by my offer of the love spoon that she immediately agreed to meet me the following evening That was the beginning of a lovely romance between the two of us. We were together during the rest of my two-week stay in Wales and she was the perfect guide to show me the countryFirst, we went down to the south coast for a weekend, and Angharad tried to teach me to windsurf. She was not only very cultured, but she also loved water sports. There were lots of people in the bay who were experts, and it was fantastic to watch them race across the bay, jumping the waves. Angharad was a very good windsurfer. However, I had never tried to windsurf before and I must admit that I found it very difficult, especially in the cold sea! I picked up the sail and fell backwards into the water, Then I picked up the sail and fell on top of it. I think 1 spent 29 minutes out of 30 falling off the surfboard! I felt like an idiot and I’m sure that I drank litres of seawater. All the time, Angharad was very patient and tried very hard not to laugh at me! Eyentually, I decided to stay on the beach and watch her. It was much safer — and drier! Apart from my disastrous attempt at windsurfing, we had a lovely weekend, I preferred walking along the beaches; I could stay warm and dry and talk to Angharad. ‘The most enjoyable day of our time together wasn’t on the coast. It was my last day in Wales. On that day, Angharad took me to the Royal National Eisteddfod. The Eisteddfod (meaning ‘sitting together’ or Windsurfing in Wales “gathering’) is a modern version of the ancient competitions in which apprentice poets and musicians would compete against each other for a seat of honour in the households of noblemen. Today, it is one of the largest cultural festivals of Welsh language, art, drama, music making and poetry writing in Europe and it takes place every August for eight days. I was very impressed by the event. There were 6,000 competitors and over 150,000 spectators — and no one was speaking English. Everything was in Welsh! I had to rely on the simultaneous translation into English to understand what was going on. I heard that Welsh people love singing and that they have wonderful voices, and it was true. There were some children singing in the Eisteddfod who were only about 12 years old and they had incredible voices. I didn’t understand the words of the poems and songs, because they were in Welsh, but it wasn't important. I could hear so much emotion that I could imagine the meaning of what I heard. There were a lot of very talented people participating in the event and it was a wonderful way to spend my last day in Wales. I felt very lucky to have been to the Eisteddfod. There was real pride in the Welsh language and the tradition of poetry and song and I enjoyed sharing this special occasion. fol Nan iW Cornwall During my holiday in Wales, I saw a competition in a travel magazine. One of the categories was to write an article about a coastal area in Europe. I wanted to write about somewhere in Britain, so I phoned Gareth to ask him for ideas on where to go. “You could go to Cornwall,” he said. “It’s a remote area in the south-west corner of Britain. It has a beautiful coastline, a lot of small seaside towns and very dramatic scenery. It’s also rich in folklore and myths. It’s a great place to write about and it will be an opportunity for you to see another part of Britain.” I was convinced. I bought a book about Cornwall and decided tostart my trip along the coast in a town called Bude. According to the description in the book, Bude was a small enchanting, seaside town. I hired a car and drove to Bude. I reserved a room in one of its little hotels and then, at 8.00 pm, I went to a pub to have some dinner. The inside of the pub looked as if it hadn’t changed for hundreds of years. The walls were stone and all the tables and chairs were made of dark wood. There was an empty table next to the fireplace and I sat down to enjoy a peaceful dinner. As I was finishing my meal, an old man approached the table and asked if he could sit there. I looked around and saw that all the other tables were occupied. I invited him to sit with me and soon discovered that I was very lucky to have met him. His name was Richard and he seemed to know everything about Cornwall, its history and its myths. “Most of the legends here are about Giants and Piskies,” he began. “Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “I know what Giants are, but what are Piskies?” “Piskies were little old men about two centimetres tall, with red hair, who were all identical,” said Richard. “They were cheerful people who helped the old. However, they also liked playing jokes on people.” Richard’s stories were fascinating and it seemed like only 15 minutes had passed, and not three hours, when the pub owner announced that it was closing time. “It’s been a pleasure talking to you tonight. Thank you,” I said to Richard, as we stood outside the pub. “Thank you for listening to an old man’s stories,” he replied. Richard smiled, shook my hand and walked away. Although I never saw him again, Richard and his stories accompanied me throughout the rest of my trip in Comwall. I remembered one of the stories when I arrived in Poundstock the following day. “There’s an old church in a little village called Poundstock,” Richard had told me. “In the 14th century, a man called William Penfold was the priest of the church. Although he was a priest, he was also a member of a group of pirates that attacked ships leaving the area. Eventually, William Penfold had a fight with the rest of the pirates and left the group.” “Js that the end of the story?” I asked. “No. A short time later, the pirates interrupted a Mass that William Penfold was giving in his church. They brutally murdered him on the altar.” “What a horrible story!” T exclaimed. “It’s so violent!” “There's more,” continued Richard. “People say that his ghost still haunts the church.” Words can’t describe what I felt as I walked through the empty church remembering Richard's story. It was very quiet and cold in the church and it was easy to imagine Penfold’s screams as he was being murdered. It was good to go outside again, into the warm sun. I sat down next to the car and looked at my map. I decided that the next day I would go to Tintagel Castle, home of the legendary King Arthur. I grew up reading stories and seeing films about King Arthur. There are many stories that describe him as a virtuous king who attracted the best knights in the Christian world to serve him. They were called the Knights of the Round Table and their mission was to fight against all the evil forces in England Richard had told me something about King Arthur that had surprised me. “You know that King Arthur was born in Tintagel Castle, don’t you?” asked Richard. Tintagel, CornwallBeautiful Cornish coastline “No, I didn’t know that,” I replied. “Actually, I've never thought about exactly where King Arthur was from. I just thought of him as English.” “Well, he was from Cornwall,” said Richard. “The legends say that Merlin, Arthur's teacher, lived in a cave below Tintagel Castle. When you get to Tintagel, stay at the Castle Hotel. It has a great view of the castle. The town is a few hundred metres away.” I did exactly what Richard had suggested. I arrived at Tintagel just in time to see the sun going down into the sea behind the castle. It was a romantic moment and it was suddenly very easy to believe that all the legends about King Arthur and his knights were true. T continued my journey early the following morning. The next few days were filled with beautiful views and the sound of the sea and the wind. And I wrote my article sitting in small hotels, on beaches, in pubs and in tearooms. As Lapproached Chapel Porth Beach three days later, remembered another of Richard’s stories. “There is a famous legend of a Giant named Boster. He was an evil man who terrorised the people who lived here.” “What happened to him?” I asked. “Well, he fell in love with the beautiful Saint Agnes. She saved the people from him,” he said. “How did she do that?” “She asked him to prove his love for her by filling a hole in the mountain at Chapel Porth. She knew that the hole didn’t have a bottom. Giant Boster didn’t know. He cut his arm with his sword and tried to fill the hole with his blood, but he died from the loss of blood. That’s why even today, the sea at Chapel Porth is red with his blood.” Istood on a mountain looking down at the sea at Chapel Porth and discovered that Richard was right. The sea did look red! The remaining cight days of my drive through Cornwall were full of Richard’s stories. 1 passed by towns like Zennor where the local legend tells of a mermaid who hypnotised a nobleman’s son. He followed her into the sea and drowned. I also passed Rill Point, where people first saw the Spanish Armada on its way to attack Britain. By the end of my trip, I had finished my article which was well received by the magazine. I didn’t win the competition, but they published my story and I have Richard to thank for telling me about the legends of Cornwall. They made the article much more interesting. I will always have a special place in my heart for that old man whose stories converted Cornwall into a mystical and magical land for me.JAPTERS 5-7 ACTIVITIES 1 Match each word to the correct definition. 3 Underline the mistake in each of the following sentences about the story. Then write the correct word next to each | sentence. 1, Antonio celebrated a wedding in a village near Stamford. 2. Gareth’s wedding took place in a cave 3. William Penfold was a giant. 4. Boster tried to fill a hole in a castle. 5. Merlin lived in Chapel Porth. 4. In what way did Richard’s stories stay with Antonio for the remainder of his time in | Cornwall? Write the answer in your notebook. 5 Answer the questions. Write the answers in your notebook. 1. What were the reasons Antonio enjoyed his first British Christmas? 2, In what way did Nicola’s family make Antonio feel like part of the 2 Complete the sentences with the correct words below. ; family? empty relyon managed scenery come true narrow ; 3. How did Antonio convince Angharad to have dinner with him? 1, There were many places to see but we...... wnimmnenen tO dO everything. 4. What did Antonio do on his last day in Wales? The tunnel was very .. and they couldn't craw! through it. 5. What were Piskies? on 3. They opened the treasure box but it WAS senna 4, David enjoyed looking at the beautiful . countryside. . Happy birthday! I hope all your wishes... He isn’t a responsible person — you can’t. in the According to the legend, King Arthur was a great British leader who led the war against Saxon invaders in the 6th century. He became king by removing a sword set in stone, which many other rivals had not succeeded in removing. On the sword were the following words: “Who pulls out this sword from this stone is the born king of all England.” vw 6.CHAPTER 8 Manchester It was time to visit my English cousin, Louise, who lived in Manchester. She had promised to be my tour guide during this visit, so early one morning we got on a tram to Old Trafford, the stadium of Manchester United Football Club. Louise is now a big fan of the team. but she wasn’t always a football enthusiast. | remember when we were young and I visited her from Spain and persuaded her to go to a match with me. It was my first visit to the Old Trafford Stadium to see Manchester United play Arsenal (a London team), and it was a total disaster. We were supposed to be supporting United, my favourite English football team, but Louise didn’t care who was winning. Every time either team scored, she jumped up and cheered, which didn’t make the United fans around us very happy! I tried to explain the rules to her and told her she should only cheer for one team, but she thought it was much fairer if she encouraged both sides! Eventually, I pretended that I didn’t know her until we left the stadium! Louise doesn’t like me to remind her of those days because now she loves Manchester United, too. She has even got her own brick, with her name on it, in the pavement outside the stadium. Several years ago, the club started to sell bricks outside Old Trafford to fans. Louise thought this was a great idea and she bought one. So the first thing we did when we arrived at the stadium was to go and see Odie her brick! There it was, with the name Louise Benton on it! 1 told my radium, Manchester cousin I was very impressed, and she was very proud! We didn’t go to a football match that day, but went to see the Old Trafford Museum and have a tour of the stadium. I wondered what could be so interesting about a football team. But when I started to go round the museum, I was fascinated. During the 1950s, the manager, Matt Busby, hired many young players, so the average age was 22, and the team’s nickname was ‘The Busby Bab crashed in Munich. Twenty-three people died in all, eight players and But then disaster happened in 1958, when the team’s plane eight sports writers were among the dead. This was a terrible tragedy and Busby struggled hard to rebuild the team after it. They changed their nickname to ‘The Red Devils’, as the Busby Babes didn’t seem appropriate any more. After the museum, we went on the tour of the stadium. It was great! We went right to the top of the Sir Alex Ferguson stand, named after United’s famous manager, then to the players’ dressing rooms and from there, we walked out of the tunnel leading to the playing field as if we were the players. It was quite an experience! I could imagine the fans cheering for me. “Isn't this fun?” Louise said. “Yes, iti ,” T said. Besides football, Louise also loves music, and Manchester is a great city for good music. She says that it’s one of the reasons she stayed in Manchester when she finished university. There's something for all tastes, and a lot of famous musicians came from Manchester like Liam and Noel Gallagher of Oasis and Gary Barlow of Take That Tt was a Friday night, and there was already a long queue outside a nightclub Louise wanted to go to in the centre of Manchester. I don’t like waiting in queues, but the British queue for everything — and they always stand in tidy lines, not like the big groups of people in Spain. British people are very patient when they stand in queues, but I'm not! “It’s cold waiting here,” I complained. “Why don’t we go somewhere else?”“please Antonio, be patient,” Louise told me. “But it’s starting to rain!” I replied. “Why do you want to come to this club when there are so many in Manchester?’ “Because this one is fantastic,” said Louise. “And it’s free. You have to pay to get into a lot of nightclubs in Manchester and some of them are quite expensive. When we finally got in, I saw that the club was very small and quite dark and parts of it had carpet on the floor, which was dirty from where people had dropped their drinks (I never understand why the Bri insist on putting carpets on the floor in places where people drink!). But the dance floor was well lit (no carpet!), the DJ was brilliant and Louise was right — it was a fantastic club. We both danced until 2.00 am when it closed. We decided to go home then. because the next day we were going back to Old Trafford, this time for a real football game. The following day, we met two of Louise's friends, David and Steve, at the stadium. Manchester United were playing Liverpool, their traditional rival. Thousands of people were crowding into the stadium. We got to our seats and waited excitedly for the teams to come out. “What's the capacity of the stadium?” I asked. “Over 75,000 people,” said Steve. “It’s the second-largest football stadium in England, after Wembley.” “Manchester United are one of the richest football clubs in the world,” added David. “And did you know that Manchester United have got their own TV station?” Louise added. “Look! You can see the cameras over there! They've got MUTV written on them.” “Will [be on TV?” I asked Louise, smiling at the cameras. “Err, [don’t think 0,” Louise answered. “So you can stop smiling, Antonio!” I watched the teams come onto the field and I could imagine how they felt because I had walked out of the tunnel the day before. The match was very exciting and we were all pleased with the result - the Red Devils won 3-1. The crowd cheered and shouted, “United! United! United!” I, of course, cheered and shouted as well. The Red Devils had won and it was the highlight of my visit to Manchester. Monday was my last day, so I decided to go and see some of the other things the city has to offer. I made my way to the canal and joined a boat tour. It was very interesting and I learned how the Industrial Revolution brought great wealth to the city and how the canals were used to transport merchandise to and from the factories. In the 20th century, the whole area around the canals became run-down because the factories closed down. But, today it is being renovated and becoming a very exciting area, Finally, I went to the MOSI - the Museum of Science and Industry. There's so much to see at this museum, but I didn’t have time to see everything. I did manage to see a replica of the first British plane with a British engine, which flew its first flight in 1910. I also went to see the underground sewage system. I learned all about Manchester's sanitation from Roman times until the present day and got to see lots of different toilets in the exhibition! While there, I walked through a Victorian sewer, built using original bricks from a Manchester sewer of the late 1830s. The next day, it was time to say goodbye to Louise and leave Manchester. 1 think it’s a great city and I can’t wait to go back again soon. Manchester United vs Liverpooloie Edinburgh Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland, is one of the most beautiful cities in Europe. Dominated by a medieval castle on a volcanic rock, the home it has a fascinating history and there is a lot to see. It’ of one of the best summer festivals in the world, the Edinburgh International Festival. It’s also the home of a very old friend of mine called Martin. Martin and 1 met at my school in Spain. We were both 14 years old and my family had recently returned to Spain from the United States. My English was better than my Spanish, so Thad problems at school that year. Sometimes, I didn’t understand what the teacher was saying or what I was supposed to do. I also felt isolated because | didn’t know about the same things as my classmates. I had different clothes and I liked different music. People were friendly, but I wasn’t happy. After Easter, my school had an exchange with a school from Edinburgh. Some pupils in my class didn’t know what country Edinburgh was in, so our teacher showed us on the map. “Here's Edinburgh, on the east coast of Scotland,” she said, pointing. “It’s the capital of Scotland and the country’s biggest tourist city. After London, more people visit Edinburgh than anywhere else in Britain.” ‘Twenty Scottish pupils came to our school for three weeks and stayed with our families. I was the only person who could speak English and Spanish. Suddenly, everyone needed me to translate and help them so that they could talk to each other. By the end of the three weeks, I had a lot of new friends, both Spanish and Scottish. Martin was the most popular person in his class. He was funny, intelligent and very good at sport ~ and he was staying in my house! We soon became very good friends. “It’s been great having you here,” I told Martin on his last day. “I like my school and Spain more now, because you've helped me to make new friends.” “Thanks,” he said. “I've had a fantastic time. You've shown me your city and you've taught me Spanish. One day, you must come to visit me in Edinburgh and I'll show you my city. Come in the summer, it’s the best time.” “TU definitely visit you,” I told him. “And that’s a promise!” Six years later, in the middle of August, I was finally here. 1 got off the train at Edinburgh’s Waverley Station and there was Martin! When he saw me walking down the platform, he shouted so loudly that everyone stopped and turned round! “Antonio! Hey, Antonio! It’s so good to see you!” He took me to his flat, which he shared with two friends, and told me all about his plans for my visit. “It’s wonderful that you're here for the Festival,” said Martin. “1 love Edinburgh all year, but during the Festival it’s crazy! There’s so much happening all day and all night. I hope you got lots of sleep before you came because we've got a lot to do and a lot to see. I know you're going to enjoy this city.” “So, what are our plans?” I asked “Well, I thought we could go and visit the castle this afternoon and go for a walk around the Old Town, the oldest part of Edinburgh, which is the area where I live. Then, tonight we can go and see a show at the Festival,” he began “Which show?” I interrupted. “There are a lot of shows that have good reviews. The local newspapers have a special section for the Festival and the Fringe ...” “What's the Fringe?” I asked.“OK,” he said, “I'll start at the beginning. But you must be hungry. V'lltell you about the Fringe while we're having lunch.” We had lunch with Paul and Alison, Martin’s two flatmates. While we were eating, they told me more about the Festival. It started in 1947 and every year, there is an official programme of classical music, opera, theatre and comedy. The Edinburgh Festival Fringe started the same year and is basically another unofficial festival that happens outside ~ on the “fringe’ of ~ the main festival “There are lots of free performances every night and hundreds more that you pay to see. You can pay anything from £5 to £10, but discount tickets are available. You'll see what the Festival is as soon as we go outside,” said Martin. “It's difficult to describe the Festival,” added Alison. “You have to live it. The atmosphere is like one big party, and everyone in Edinburgh is invited.” The Old Town is like a labyrinth with its narrow streets. We walked slowly up the High Street (also called the Royal Mile) past the beautiful Saint Giles’ Cathedral. This road goes to Edinburgh Castle The streets were busy and among the tourists and people shopping, there were clowns, mime artists, actors in costume and musicians playing alone and in groups. The city was alive and full of colour. The Edinburgh Festival Everywhere I looked, something fun was happening “This is great!” I exclaimed Just then, someone put a leaflet in my hand. “What's this? Lasked, looking at it. “During the day, actors advertise their show for the evening. By the time we arrive at the castle, you'll have Martin promised me. He was right. had 12 pieces of paper in my hand when we arrived at the castle, and all the shows looked interesting. “Choosing one show is going to be a problem,” I said to Martin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a few ideas!” he laughed at least 10 leaflets! About one million people visit Edinburgh Castle every year. There is a museum in the castle, but it is also an army base because the Scottish division of the British army is based here. From the castle, the view of the city, situated between the sea and the mountains, is lovely. Inside the castle, we saw the Royal apartments. There is a tiny room here, where Mary, Queen of Scots gave birth to the boy who became the king of both England and Scotland. “He became King James VI of Scotland and King James I of England in 1603, when Queen Elizabeth I of England died. It wasimportant because England and Scotland were separate countries then and they had different kings. James was the first ruler to be king of both countries. It was called the Union of the Crowns,” Martin explained. T must admit, I didn’t know very much about Scottish history, but Martin was an expert. He was studying history at university and was a very good guide. Martin and his flatmates were also good guides for the Festival. They had a surprise for me on my first night We went to see Rowan Atkinson perform in one of the theatres. He’s the actor and comedian who created the character Mr Bean, and his comedy act was very funny. I thought he was even better on stage than in the television programme. After the show, we went to Bannerman’s pub, near Martin’s flat. Paul worked there at weekends. He told me that a lot of the people who were performing in the ival went there. “Hi, Bob,” he said to the barman, “can we have four pints, please?” As Martin and Paul talked to the barman, Alison and I looked around for somewhere to sit. Someone standing at the other end of the bar looked familiar. “Alison, look at that man. Is it ... 2” Lasked her. “Yes, Antonio! It’s Rowan Atkinson!” she exclaimed. “I'll go and ask for his autograph.” “Yes it’s me, Mr Bean!” That’s another thing about the British. A famous person is automatically public property. Bob (the barman) knew Rowan Atkinson because he had been in the pub before. So I met Mr Bean and you know, he looks completely normal when he’s not acting! We went to see lots of different shows while 1 was in Edinburgh. We went to listen to a choir singing Verdi’s Requiem at Saint Giles’ Cathedral. The s lovely and the cathedral itself was very interesting. We also had a picnic with Alison and singing wi Paul in Princes Street Gardens and watched a circus. The | circus was without animals, as many British people believe it’s cruel to make them ‘perform’ in circuses. There was wonderful music, | people who juggled with fire and talented acrobats and gymnasts. The Gardens were full and the performers moved amongst the people. I loved the music so much that I bought the CD after the performance. All the time I was in Edinburgh, I was lucky with the weather. Everyone I met said the same thing to me. “How long are you in Scotland?” they asked. “Ooh, it’s lovely, sunny weather for your visit. You are lucky!” Martin had decided to take me north for a few days, to see some more of Scotland. I hoped my luck would continue. aaa) More of Scotland Scotland is marvellous. It’s a country of mountains and lakes, and everything I saw in my few days there was beautiful. I am not exaggerating and I can say this even though, from the minute Martin and I left Edinburgh, the weather was terrible, It rained and rained, and then when the rain stopped, it rained again! As we drove north, Martin started to tell me a few things about Scotland to distract me from the rain. “Did you know that Scotland has over 790 islands, but only 99 of them are populated?” he asked me. “No, I didn't,” T answered, looking out of the window at the grey sky, the dark grey clouds and the rain. “yes, and only 62 of the islands are bigger than five square kilometres,” he added. “Hmm, do you think the rain will stop soon?” I asked. “| hope so,” Martin replied. “We'll go to Dunkeld first. They’ve got their Highland Games on at the moment.” The rain was getting worse and I couldn’t see the car in front of us. The mountains in the distance had disappeared. “Antonio, you're not listening, are you? Stop worrying about the rain! I was going to tell you about the Highland Games, but you're obviously not interested.” “I'm sorry, Martin. Of course I’m interested,” I said quickly. “What are the Games?” “They're a competition of the traditional Scottish sports,” he explained. “But you do sports outside. Won’t they be cancelled if it’s raining?” Lasked. “No. This is Scotland, not Andalusia! If we cancelled something every time we had bad weather, we'd never do anything!” Martin replied. Of course, Martin was right. The Games continued, despite the rain. We parked the car outside the pretty town of Dunkeld and walked out to the field where the competition was being held. There were hundreds of different-coloured umbrellas and everyone was wearing a raincoat — everyone except the competitors (who were mostly men). They were wearing kilts and T-shirts. “People really do wear kilts!” I exclaimed. “I thought the only people who wore them were the pipers who played the bagpipes as a symbol of Scotland. Isn’t it just a gimmick for the tourists?” “No! Of course they wear kilts, but not every day!” laughed Martin. “Men have worn kilts since the end of the 1700s. Women also wear them sometimes. I wear one on special occasions, for a wedding, or something like that.” “You wear a skirt!” I exclaimed, in horror “No, Antonio. I don’t wear a skirt, I wear a kilt. The kilt is a symbol of Scottish nationalism, the same as tartan.” “What's tartan?” I asked him. “It’s the special pattern in the material that kilts are made from — the material with the different-coloured squares. Nowadays, there are more than 3,700 different patterns recorded. Some of them are officially recognised and some aren't. Historically, every ‘clan’ or family has its own pattern. For example, the Gordon clan has a tartan, the MacDonald clan has a different one and ... Look!” pointed to the corner of the field.“Tossing the Caber” competition iy There was a man with what looked like a tree trunk in his arms! “What's he doing with that tree?” I asked. “It’s not a tree,” he said. “It’s called a caber and the competition is called ‘Tossing the Caber’. Imagine the face of a clock on the ground. Each competitor stands in the middle of the ‘clock’, lifts the caber vertically and puts it on his shoulder. Then he throws it so that it spins in the air and it must land in a straight line on the ground. The person who can throw the caber closest to the 12 o'clock position wins. Watch!” We watched several more competitions. Most of them consisted of throwing something heavy. There were also some women competing, but they didn’t have problems because obviously, these games require skill as well as strength. “Come on!” said Martin. “You have to try some haggis before we leave. It’s a typical Scottish food.” In the village, there was a little market selling local produce. There was honey and jam, cakes and biscuits. And haggis. “Yuk! What is that?” I asked, when Martin showed me the haggis. It looked like a plastic bag with something brown and lumpy inside. Was it really food? “It’s a sheep's stomach,” Martin told me. “And inside it is the liver, heart and lungs of a lamb with onion ...” “Oh! Sssh! Don’t tell me! I’d prefer to eat it without knowing. Why aren’t you having any?” “Oh, I've already tried it!” he laughed. The lady selling the haggis gave me a little plastic plate with hot haggis on it and I ate it with a fork. When I didn’t look at what I was eating, it tasted quite nice! i Hungry? That afternoon, we drove through the Grampian Mountains, How about some haggis? It was still raining, but I didn’t mind. The scenery was beautiful. In between the mountains, there were wide-open spaces and it was all so green. The hills seemed endless. We stopped and camped that evening outside a little village. It sounds crazy to camp in the rain, but it was wonderful. We had bought some tins of food and some bread and wine and we sat in the tent and cooked on a little camp stove. Then we played cards. Eventually, the rain stopped and we could see the sun through the clouds as it disappeared behind the mountains. It was truly beautiful. “Tomorrow, we'll go and look for Nessie!” said Martin. “Nessie, the Loch Ness monster?” J asked. “Yes. There will be a lot of people at Loch Ness, but you can’t leave Scotland without going to its most famous lake,” Martin said. “Somehow, I doubt you'll see it, but you never know! Did you know that the first recorded sighting of the monster was in 565 AD?” “No, that’s amazing,” I replied. “I thought it was a recent phenomenon. So is ‘loch’ the Scottish word for lake?” “That's right. There are lots of lakes in Scotland but Loch Ness is one of the biggest. It’s 37 kilometres long, 1.6 kilometres wide and the deepest part is 229 metres. There’s a lot of loch for Nessie to hide in!”That night, I dreamt about monsters. I woke up to the sound of rain at 6.00 am. By 6.30, the rain had stopped and I opened the tent. The sun was rising and there was white mist on the ground. I put on my jumper and boots and went outside. I walked up to the top of a hill and looked down into the valley. Everything looked very mysterious, quiet and calm. There was complete silence except for the birds. “It's perfect!” I thought. I stood there and watched as the sun came up. When the mist had evaporated, I saw the sun reflected on the water of a loch below me. It was a very special moment. Our next destination was Loch Ness, but when we got to Inverness, Martin turned right. I was looking at the map. “Martin, why didn’t we turn left to go to Loch Ness?” I asked him. “Because I want you to see something special first,” he said. “My parents live in a village not far from here. Cawdor Castle is near the village. It’s a beautiful place and it has an interesting history. “The legend is that in 1454, the Lord of Cawdor received instructions ina dream to build a new castle. He filled a bag with gold, put the bag on a donkey and said he would build the castle at the place where the donkey stopped. It stopped under a tree, so he built the castle around the tree. You can still see the tree in the cellar.” We stopped near the castle and got out of the car. Cawdor Castle, Inverness “Lusually spend New Year's Eve at my parents’ home,” said Martin. “When I do, I always visit the castle. It’s a special place, isn’t it?” “Yes, it is,” I agreed. “By the way, how do you and your family celebrate New Year’s Eve?” ‘ “Well, we usually have a big party with lots of people and then at midnight, we listen to Big Ben on the radio,” Martin answered. “After the bells, we stand in a circle, hold hands and sing a traditional Scottish song called Auld Lang Syne.” He sang some of the song to me and I realised that I knew it! We used to sing it in the States at New Year as well. “Does everybody kiss after that and say ‘Happy New Year’?” I asked him. “Of course! I think people kiss each other at New Year in most countries!” Martin exclaimed. “But you know, New Year's Eve is a very important celebration in Scotland and is called Hogmanay. And the traditional way of celebrating Hogmanay is very interesting. The tradition is that people stay at home until midnight and the first person to come into your house after that must be a man with dark hair.” “Why?” 1 interrupted. “Because that’s the tradition, I don’t know the reason!” Martin answered. “The man must also bring some presents to bring luck to the house. He must bring a piece of coal so the house will always be warm, a bag of salt so the family will always have something to eat, and a bottle of whisky so the family will always have something to drink. Anyway, my parents have an old friend who loves this tradition, He’s a dark-haired man and after midnight, he always comes to my parents’ house with these three presents. Of course, all the whisky is drunk that night!” “And then what happens?” I asked. “Well, then we continue with the party, like everywhere in the world at New Year!” Martin laughed. “But the tradition of Hogmanay makes Scotland unique,” I told him. “I like that.”