sundries - #ashtag, celiac, doctor who

Airports are now shut until 1am tomorrow, at the earliest. The Met office is also working to move to give further ahead closing notice, so we can anticipate better, as opposed to viewing this in six hour chunks.

25% of the particles are apparently falling to ground in much of the UK. Whether this is a health risk depends on which agency is talking. The thing about being in the EU is that there are a lot more authorities than in US, and so there are more contradictions, and, more importantly, a greater sense of when people are lying just to maintain order.

The Met office says conditions are getting worse and that we should expect this to go on for days. Our flight is still listed as Wednesday, but since they expect the ash cloud to go on at least that long, honestly, I'm not sure we'll get out before the weekend.

Today we move to a guest room offered by friends of a friend. And if I told you some of the people involved in getting that sorted: a) you wouldn't believe me and b) fuck the epic Internet drama.

I have, of course, been linked to the HuffPo piece on surviving the apocalypse. I've got that last one down, kids. Although as several people noted, this shit is probably all my fault in the first place.

Despite contradictory information from everyone, it seems Patty and I will be able to get some compensation from the airline when this is over. We could actually apply now, but I don't think we should -- I don't want to look like the problem customer until they get us out of here.

Emotionally, I'm sort of all over the place. On one hand, adventure! and I do love it here. And I can more or less work remotely here, although some things are difficult. On the other hand, I hate not having control, I miss our bed, and this is all very frustrating. And it feels harder to deal with, you know, pretty much anything. Which brings us to some non-#ashtag news.

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Last night I had one of the worst experiences I've ever had with celiac disease in a restaurant, where waiters lied to me about my food. I wound up not getting glutened, because I put my foot down. But when I ask if something has gluten and you tell me it's just stuffed with cheese and then it comes and it looks like it's stuffed with bread so I ask you to double check the correct answers are not:

- to agree to go check and then never return to the table
- to send a different waiter over to point at it and say it's cheese (I'm Sicilian, fuck you)
- to suggest I try it when I say it's not cheese after I've already informed you I have a severe allergy (excuse me, would you like me to need to be hospitalized)
- to leave it on the bill
- to grudgingly take it off the bill and then say it was just chicken and mushrooms -- if that were true (and I really, REALLY don't think it was) why couldn't we have least gotten that answer at the beginning?

Pretty much every meal we've had here has ranged form good to spectacular and I did not need this shit while stranded here because of a volcano. It was extremely upsetting, and made me doubt the legitimacy of my concern. Because they are the restaurant, they must be right. Who am I to not believe them? But there was NO WAY, that food wasn't potentially dangerous, especially after I was lied to whether it was bread or not. It really shook me.

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Everyone is noticing different, seeminly intentional, arc-specific, echoes from past Doctor Who and Torchwood episodes in the Moffat season so far. Add yours in comments below (BEWARE, spoilers through 5.3) -- I'd like to get a full list, and I know I've tweaked to totally different things than others.

because i can't stop bringing the funny

So we're packing the suitcases earlier to move on to our new hosts and what do I find in my luggage _again_ but the vortex manipulator that's been floating around in there since Gallifrey One.

Let's recap:

I am stuck in the UK due to a volcano with a non-working vortex manipulator. Doctor stuck in the US. Dead Ianto blablahblah.

#ashtag update

We're now ensconced in the guest room of our LJ rescuers. It's a lovely room, in a lovely flat, with lovely hosts, and we can see Parliament from the window, and it's all quite grand. There's a cat nosing at my toes. Yay.

Meanwhile, the news says that test flights trying to determine the safety of flying through the ash have found NO IMPACT from the ash on the planes. And I just don't know what to think, or how to process that emotionally.

On one hand, we know ash is dangerous to planes. If you've ever seen a Discovery Channel thing on this, you know, YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE IN A PLANE FLYING THROUGH ASH, because all your engines will shut down until you're clear of the ash, and you'll be lucky not to die.

On the other hand, seriously? Might it be that this ash is different? That the governments are being too cautious? THAT THIS HAS ALL BEEN FOR NOTHING? That we are trapped in the UK for no discernable reason?

And do I trust the airlines that are demanding that flight space be reopened because their test flights were safe and they are losing money? Not at all.

While our flight remains rebooked for Wednesday, the news is now saying that it is unlikely British airspace will reopen before Thursday, meaning we do not expect to get out until the weekend, although all of this is a theory right now. With the airlines exerting pressure and an emergency ministerial meeting called by Gordon Brown, I suspect anything could happen at any time.

I love the UK, and when are arrived here I was like "oh, I want to stay," but I'm a creature of plans and expectations, and being delayed bothers me slightly and not even having certitude about that bothers me _a lot_. I'm doing my best with it, and that best is pretty good, but it is awfully overwhelming to me.

I will be able to work remotely from here, although it is unideal. Patty will be able to do more daytime tourism. And I'll be able to see more London by night. If we get stuck until the weekend we'll be able to go back to the St. Katherine's Dock market again, so that's nice, and I still haven't squeezed in seeing Canary Wharf yet, so I'll have time now, although admittedly that seems a little ominous.

So yeah. It's all really, really fucked up and stressful. And it all may be for naught. Or greedy airlines and frightened governments may be about to get us all killed.

less #ashtag and more what have you been up to in the UK then, rm?

Yesterday, Patty slept in and then had to go to the final day of her conference, which meant I was on my own in London. While there are a lot of things we've done that I want to go back to and write about (including my new best friends at the fudge and risotto booths at the Friday fair at St. Katherine's dock), yesterday was pretty full, so this is that.

First, I went to Harrod's. I was sort of reluctant about this, because I figured, how interesting could it be? It's a department store, we have those in New York. But then, in looking up how to get there, I discovered their lengthy code of conduct and in going there also discovered that the building is like a damn castle.

So I took the tube to Knightsbridge, and then of course, walked the wrong direction. Unlike other wealthy areas we have visited which felt very boring to me, this one felt a lot more comfortable -- the scale was right, and I suppose I felt comfortable between the Madison Avenue store vibe and the Embassy vibe. So I wandered around for a while actually stumbling on the Icelandic Embassy in the process. No one was protesting the volcano outside,in case you were wondering or anything.

Finally, I found Harrod's (although not before passing my beloved Zara -- their women's clothes fit me PERFECTLY and make me look like a movie star; also for Whoniverse fans not in the know, they are also the source of Ianto's suits). I felt really uncomfortable at first. My hair was poofy (I hate that) and I wasn't dressed well and I didn't feel like I belonged. But faking rich is as much about how you carry yourself as what you wear, so I got it on and got on with it.

Oh my god, the food halls. It's like nothing I've ever seen. I thought, at first, the tea and chocolate hall was it, but then there was the fruit and vegetable hall and the candy all and the fish and meats hall and it goes on and on and on and on and is just completely ridiculous. I got Patty and I a few small things, and then went on to examine other areas of the store.

I went up to the boy's department to see about ties. My god, if I'd had my bank card with me (yeah, that's still not resolved and may not be resolvable until we get home), I'd have bought at least one. But 40 quid for a children's tie? Ouch. On the other hand -- beautiful. Beautiful fabrics and patterns and colors and textures and so much more of a choice than in the US, and pink and purples and reds (Ianto cosplayers take note, what seems like Ianto's remarkable fashion sense seems to be quite ordinary men's fashion in the UK) and I wanted it all. Perhaps most bizarre however was the seven-year-old boy who was touching the ties and considering them with the same level of seriousness as myself while I was there. He looked at me as if I were very odd.

Next, I went downstairs to the stationers level. You know, because I need to look at pens that cost four figures and cufflinks and expensive gaming sets. Ah, the luxuries of men, and I do hate moving through such spaces by doing the "I'm shopping for a gift, don't you know" thing, even in my head. I never know if I am more afraid of being caught out as a boy or as not enough of one.

Finally, I managed to steel myself for walking through the men's fashion area. As I say above, these things are hard for me, but my god, I had no intention of leaving London without touching all the things that will never fit me. So I did that and it was, as you might expect, about a hundred thigns I'm not actually going to talk about here.

Then I did that thing I do, where I say, "well, let's just strike out in a different direction and there's bound to be a tube stop eventually." Emphasis on eventually, my friends.

Before finding one I managed to stumble into both the Victoria and Albert Museum, which has an exquisite courtyard (see photos below) and the science museum, which I went to solely because there was a picture of the plane (pictured below) on a poster in the window and it seemed like a decent idea to go sit under it for a while.

Most bizarre thing about the science museum? The very British guy wearing an American astronaut outfit from the moon landing era, explaining what it's like to be in space to kids. Yeah, no. So weird.

( a few pictures )