Autumn 2017: Sheffield Adventures

Winter 2017

Janae, Jenessa and I became great friends, and began tuesday night dinners at Jenessa and her awesome husband Darryl's flat - this became a tradition for the rest of the year. Often we went for a cuisine theme, for example Greek night, with homemade pita!




















This became a highlight of our week, knowing we would cook epic food, drink wine and watch movies together at least once a week! Homemade pizza, pho, we made all sorts of things!
It was during these tuesday sessions we also discovered our mutual love of ABBA music. For the first time in ages, I had a solid community and place of abode, and it was awesome.

We attended an excellent beer festival with thousands of beers from all over the world! How to choose...There were even New Zealand beers I had never even heard of! You purchased beer tokens and then were able to use them as you wished, to try lots of quarter glasses, or a couple of pints. I opted for the former, to try as many as I could!

And of course my birthday! This was exciting, as I finally wasn't in Europe alone for it. I invited my new friends plus Joy to a girls getaway to a cottage in the Peak District, and we picnicked on the floor and had a grand old time.

Halloween was another excellent event, and I had a go at pumpkin carving! We also watched the dated but brilliant Halloween movie Hocus Pocus, which I had never seen - I was missing out, it was hilarious! One guess as to which pumpkin I carved...

 I had interesting (stressful) studies, my own little room, and an awesome group of friends. And pubs. Lots and lots of pubs. Life was good!

Staying late in the lab after class some nights, Janae and I would often find ourselves at the Beehive, a local pub which just happened to be close to university and on my walk home...the perfect place to relax after some hard studying.

I also took a day trip trip to York in October, using the (not so) trusty trains to get there and back. I tried to make the most of my weekends (when I wasn't studying) by going on little day trip adventures whenever possible. York was ridiculously picturesque.

York was founded by the Romans, and retained its importance intermittently throughout history, becoming a hub for wool trade in the Middle Ages. Although it was bombed in the war, it wasn't too badly damaged and remains one of the coolest medieval cities I have seen. It's small, but awesome. The emperor Hadrian even hung out here at one time!
You can still walk the city's medieval walls, which are the most complete defences in England (I therefore assume this must be Yannick's favorite city in England. So many wall-walking possibilities!) The interesting thing is these walls are part Roman, part medieval and part 19th century reconstructions.
 However the coolest thing about York? The narrow passage ways leading to the Shambles, a fully medieval street. Those passageways are called Snickelways! I am not even making this up, though they have only been known as such since the 1980s, so it's more an adorable word than anything else.


The name York (Jorvik in old norse) replaced the original Roman name Eboracum, which meant something to do with Yew trees (though the exact wording is debated) when the Vikings invaded in the 9th century. One of their leaders was called Ivar the Boneless which I thought was an amazing name, through probably not very complimentary.
On a side note about Viking names, here is a fun fact: Ever thought about the runic looking B you have on your phone for bluetooth? Apparently It's named after King Harald Bluetooth who united Denmark and Norway! Why? I have absolutely no idea, but it's some fun etymology. Anyway, the name Jorvik slowly changed over time, becoming York in the 13th century - though not before it was known as Yerk for a time first (heh).

University Life

Autumn 2017

Classes were hard. I soon discovered I was about the only person who didn't have a background in osteology, whether that be in pre-med, previous archaeological osteology classes, or zooarchaeology. This was somewhat terrifying, especially as the amount of information being dumped on us (that for most were simply a nice refresher) was staggering, complex and confusing to someone without the first clue about human anatomy.
 I ordered some extra textbooks, happily instantly hit it off with another american girl called Jenessa in my class that hadn't been on the field trip, and thus picked the brains constantly of two extremely intelligent individuals who already knew all this stuff - win! If nothing else, I made two amazing friends that year.

















I also spent an inordinate amount of time in the lab, using the reference collection to try and learn my stuff. Osteoarchaeology requires a lot of knowledge, and thus theory, however first and foremost, it is a hands-on class. To really know bones, you have to hold them, study them, turn them over, look at different examples as the range of differences within each element (bone) is surprising. Here's one example I prepared earlier!

Class usually went like this: The first part was a lecture, for my human osteology class this involved an all to brief run down on the part of the skeleton we were focusing on that day (for example, legs and feet) we would be given the name of each bone, and then the name of each part of the bone we needed to know (for some such as the humerus, there were perhaps only ten, for others, such as the cranium, there were well over a hundred).
Then we were let loose on the reference collection, pull out drawers full of each specific element. Adolescents were kept in separate drawers due to the fragility of their bones, but variation was still pretty obvious between examples, due to age, sex, illnesses or breakages.
This, for example is a sternum which felt abnormally light, the lack of bone density may have been due to osteopenia - this could be due to malnutrition, however due to a number of other indicators from this individual, I eventually concluded the most likely diagnosis was Tuberculosis.

Bioanthropology ran along the same lines, except the lecture would focus on things such as osteological sex, age-at-death, or pathologies. Each table would then be given a full (real) skeleton in a box to assemble onto the table.
 This was helpful in two ways, firstly, it was brilliant practice at how to correctly assemble a skeleton, especially for practicing which bone is the left and which is the right (difficult). Each box we were given was specially picked as a good example of whatever we had discussed that day, so for example if we had discussed leprosy, tuberculosis and syphilis (it was a good day) we would have to do a differential diagnosis on our skeleton to try and find physical evidence of pathologies and diagnose the possibilities of what it could be. (Pictured, a naturally healed rib break)

This, it was stressed to us, is not an exact science and one should never say it is certain that the individual had a specific disease. Instead, we rule out every disease possible, then analyse what evidence there is for whichever pathologies left are possible, and indicate which is the most likely based on the specific indications (and of course, people often suffered from multiple problems at once, just to complicate the picture).
To make it even more difficult, most pathologies don't even show up on skeletal remains. The pathology must be chronic so that the bones have enough time to be altered (such as in this case, where the individual suffered from angular kyphosis (just look at that bent spine).


























And then there were the bone tests, my most hated enemy, and the reason I spent semester one genuinely terrified I was going to fail. It didn't help our professor specialised in primates, and it was her favourite thing to mix both primate and human bones into the test, to see if we could tell the difference (they are more similar than you might expect). I would enter the room and a large table would be set up, with 20 'stations' each one holding a single bone. I had exactly 1 minute to look at the bone decide if it was human, and if it was human was it an adult or an immature, whether it was the left or the right bone, name the bone, and then often name the labelled element on the bone (so for example, I might have to write adult left humerus, the label is pointing at the lateral epicondyle) and then move on to the next bone.
 The last bone on the table was in a bag, and no, you couldn't look in the bag. You had to reach your hand in, and feel the bone, and try and work out what it was simply by touch, because you know, if I ever go blind and still want to be an osteoarchaeologist.. (I never managed to get the correct answer even once). It was pure evil I tell you, the suffering was real. Did I mention these tests made up half of our grade?
But to cheer you up, I've included this snazzy photo of some poor soul who lost three of their teeth antimortem (before death) and had advanced caries and abscesses (nasty nasty things). It would have hurt. A lot .












And that's not even mentioning the zooarchaeology component, where ALL THE BONES WERE DIFFERENT. Is it surprising to now tell you I actually enjoyed all this, in a I-had-breakdowns-every-week-for-the-first-month sort of way? But there were good things too - more on that in the next post!

Reflections on a year in Sheffield

Reflections

Home is a particular feeling I think. 

I'd been travelling so long I'd forgotten what it was like to make a new place your home and all the little intricacies that come with it. Spend enough time by your cosy desk staring out the window (when you should be studying) at the street below, and it becomes your street.

Sheffield is known in England as an industrial city, an idea which, until recently, would be completely accurate. Sheffield Steel, they make good knives. That was all I knew about this place; a name on a map, somewhere in South Yorkshire. But of course, home makes it so much more than that. All the tiny details that make up your life in that place, the things you learn that are unique to it, it is these things which turn a place from strange to familiar. 

Sheffield is one of the eight largest cities in England, it's known as the steel city, the largest village in England, and it was heavily bombed in World War II. None of these facts make it stand out, but perhaps they help to explain the gritty realness of this city. It is solid, it endures. And it does so with grim, northern cheer. The centre has little personality beyond the city hall, one of my favorite views in the city.

It is lacking green spaces in the centre, but possibly makes up for this with parks on the outskirts, and of course, backing onto the beautiful Peak District. It has hipster neighborhoods, Crooksmore (fondly known as Crooks to all the students who live there - though don't mention Conduit road, the worst hill to walk up in all of Sheffield) and Kelham Island, an up-and-coming neighborhood full of 18th century factories, urban decay and the beginning of the reuse of these spaces for quirky cafes and the infamous pub the Fat Cat (it's becoming gentrified). This is my favourite neighborhood, home to cafes like The Depot, and the Daily Grind.

























Or if it's a stronger drink your after, Kelham Island wine bar is lovely though pricey, and my all time favourite place, the Stew and Oyster is just down the road.

The funny thing about Sheffield, is that the locals are damn proud of their city. All these little factors add up, and give this place character (and there's always something likable about the underdog) until one day you find yourself defending the place; "I know it doesn't look like much, but..."

Reflecting back upon my first day, on my way to my flat, I saw a homeless person dead with seemingly unconcerned medics standing around. It wasn't an auspicious start to my stay, but in a way, that's Sheffield. Maybe you wouldn't call it exactly nice, but it grows on you.
There are lots of homeless, my experience of them was that they were pretty harmless, but there is a big a drug problem. Their local haunt in front of the cathedral became a norm for me as I saw some of them there every day (they seemed to have big congregations and discussions here every Sunday - for their weekly committee meeting, we used to joke). 

At the beginning every street looks the same, and I relied on Google Maps almost constantly, except to get to the Tesco express, a four minute walk away (not three, not five, but exactly four. I took so many trips there over the year I knew every step).

The first time I recognized somewhere, and realized I'd been there before, back before I knew this place. A connection made. The short cuts home, cutting down an alleyway by the cathedral.
Slowly I discovered the city, and grew to love the places and all their idiosyncrasies.



















The cathedral square, the pavement littered with gravestones people never bother to pause and read

The Red Deer, a pub taken over by all the archaeologists, from undergrads to professors (that's what happens when the pub is a two minute walk from the faculty). If there are two general rules about archaeologists, it would be these: they have no dress sense, and they are all functioning alcoholics (along with the geologists). I suppose if you go on enough archaeological digs with no pay offered (but free wine provided) its happens!

The Frog and Parrot, one of my favourite places for hanging out, with a good soundtrack and cheap bubbly

Tamper, the tiny NZ cafe that made the best coffee in Sheffield, and sold L&P.















The man that wandered down my street some weeknights (always at dusk) playing the harmonica and bellowing out piano man happily to himself.
How every Thursday evening the cathedral bells toll non stop for hours, to the point where I would wander into the kitchen, hear them, and instantly say 'oh it's Thursday!'  Once they tolled on a Monday and I spent an hour thinking it was Thursday.

These are the tiny fragments that made this place home. But now I'll backtrack, to before I knew all this, when I was still fresh and new to this place, and all the noteworthy events that came after.

September 2017: Sheffield beginning

My flight was taking off at something crazy like 5AM from Athens to London (hurrah for travelling on a budget!) so we had decided to have a lovely dinner out in Athens and then I was dropped off late that evening, to spend the night waiting for my flight at the airport.
Unfortunately, our accomodation had only street parking, and that evening the car was broken into, the window smashed, and Christophe's suitcase taken!! (Thank goodness for travel insurance but what a nightmare!) For once I was almost glad to leave that headache behind, though I felt awful for the others needing to deal with making a police report, getting the window fixed, and filing an insurance claim, all at 11PM at night in Greece!
Feeling rather guilty about all this, I said my farewells and then enacted my cunning plan to buy a coke from mcdonalds, and then hide out in a booth for the rest of the night, napping on the comfy cushions (it was large enough that I could actually lie down and pretend it was a bed!) Somewhere around 2AM I noticed others had followed suit and people were littered around booths, dozing away. My fears that I would be kicked out were thus allayed, and I continued snoozing.

Arriving in Sheffield (taking the train from London) was stressful, but exciting. A new adventure!

Using google maps to find my way around, I made it to my apartment, picked up my keys, and realised I needed a lot of stuff. Namely, bedding, a lamp, kitchen stuff, and all the basics that comes with moving into a flat.















Introducing Primark. Super cheap, super store, this place has everything from bedding to bathroom bits to lamps to clothes, and I was able to purchase most things here (a quick trip to Wilko's -sort of like the Warehouse - and a Tesco Extra megastore, left me with everything I needed). Feeling exhausted, but pleased with the result (note the happy poster I purchased in Greece and took with me above my bed) I bought a bottle of bubbles to celebrate and lay on the couch for the rest of the evening.

I was lucky in that my little room was almost a studio, it had its own tiny ensuite, and kitchenette with a mini fridge and sink, it was only missing cooking facilities (sadly). Therefore I only had to venture out into the rest of the flat when I needed to cook. This was just as well for me, as my flatmates were undergraduate students with whom it didn't really have anything in common, nor the time to - a year long Masters program (that really should have been 2 years to get through all the material) is no joke with the workload. Luckily I had a little desk in my room, and I pretty much lived here when in my room!

I was incredibly nervous to begin the program, meeting my professors, and fellow students, and seeing what the workload would like (and if I would even enjoy it!) Luckily, they eased us in with a field trip. I felt like I was back in highschool again! One of the best things about Sheffield is its location on the edge of the Peak District, a large national park (and the oldest in the UK!) Full of cute villages, interesting hikes and cool historical spots. Our field trip took us into the heart of the park, and was a great introduction to the area.

It was a rainy, extremely windy day (something I would become used to in England) and we stood huddled together straining to hear our professor shouting information above the wind. Magpie Mine is one of the best sites from the Industrial Revolution in the area, and is one of the best surviving examples of a lead mine in the entire UK. Thrilling stuff. 

Built sometime in the 1740s, the mine had a continuously turbulent history, due to disputes over who owned what lead vein, leading to miners lighting fires underground to smoke each other out - which is just as dangerous as it sounds - in 1833, 3 miners suffocated due to the smoke. This lead to the 'Magpie Murders' trial, (which didn't involve any magpies, and they were all acquitted, so is much less exciting than it sounds).

We also visited a much more ancient site which I can't remember anything about, but it had some snazzy stones! The trip also gave me the opportunity to get to know some of my classmates, and I soon hit it off with an American girl called Janae. It felt like I was off to a good start!

September 2017: Kos

September

Kos was our last true destination before we would all be heading our separate ways in Athens. It was bittersweet knowing our adventures would soon be over, but still having one last place to explore. 

We were lucky enough to stay in a truly unique accomodation - an Airbnb in a ruined village. Our host also ran a little taverna in the village, and the whole place was extremely atmospheric. 

Called Agios Dimitros (though once called Haihoutes, the name of the family who settled there in the 1800s). This village is considered a hamlet of the larger Asfendiou, and was very much off the beaten track (and up a dirt road in the mountains). 

Whilst highly populated in WWII, as many fled into the mountains to this village (and at one point, apparently NZ soldiers hid here) it became depopulated in the 1950s and 1960s as people moved away to the cities, and was slowly abandoned. 

Wandering the town as pretty much the only occupants was glorious, especially when eating breakfast outside, in the middle of a ruined village! Once or twice, adventurous tourists wandered by, eyeing us wonderingly as we casually dined in the sunshine as if we lived there!

Not having our fill of ruins yet, we visited what is catchily known as the Western Archaeological Zone of Kos town. My favourite part was this paved road dating to the 3rd century BC; it had a drainage pipe system running along one side, and grooves were visible on the road from long ago wheels. 

We also checked out the Odeon, an open air roman theatre in beautiful condition. Christophe kindly took a photo of me playing silly, while Yannick snuck up behind me, beautifully captured in this photo. There are so many wonderful ruins on Kos, it's well worth spending the time to wander them over a couple of days. 

We also checked out the castle and old town of Pyli and then feeling rather tired, later walked the two minutes down the road from our accomodation to the taverna. It was delicious - and interesting as the owner told us more about the village and his own life.

I don't know where this desert was eaten (somewhere on Kos) but I decided it deserves a mention because of how interesting it was. I suppose I'll just have to take a trip back to refresh my memory, what a shame. 

At some point during our Kos travels we were feeling a little ruined out, so we went for a spontaneous drive and happened past a winery (This seems to occur a strange amount when travelling with my family) Well of course we just had to stop..

..And taste the wine! And then buy the wine..I think you see where this is going. 

To clarify, no, we did not buy all the wines pictured below (sadly). In fact it is the array of wines we were able to taste (the dessert wine was especially excellent, though we would have bought one of everything if we were millionaires!)

One of my favourite memories from Kos was a quite spontaneous bar trip; we were going to head home from the beach one lovely evening, enjoying the beautiful sunset across the water, when we spied a rather epic beach bar and couldn't resist popping in for a drink.

Now that is how you have a beachside drink! I was rather gleeful and suddenly felt like I was on a caribbean island (it was all the palm fronds).

I took a last wander around our ruined village before we left it for good, spotting this goat wandering through the ruins as I did so. How very Greek!

It was strange to be saying goodbye, both to my travels and my family as I was at the end of my trip, and they were continuing on (the lucky buggers). However the upside was knowing I would see them all again in the not-too-distant future (spoiler alert, prepare for good wine and cheese in the coming months!) and I was excited to begin my Masters in Sheffield!

September 2017: Leros

1st-6th September 
Leros was a strange sort of place; we originally wanted to go to Tilos, but the ferry was irregular enough that we couldn't make it work with timings (and I, alas, was nearing the end of my trip, as I had a deadline back in England to begin my Masters program). According to myth, Leros was the island Artemis used to go to hunt, but historically, it has a darker past. Occupied by the Italians (along with most of the Dodecanese islands) in 1912, it was fortified and largely taken over by the military. It was bombed by both the British and Germans in WWII (as it changed hands from one side to the other).

We had chosen a lovely looking airbnb above Vromolithos Bay, with the idea that we could walk down to it for cheeky swims whenever we wanted. The airbnb itself was one of my favourites, with air conditioning, a big kitchen and a lovely deck with a view down to the beach. We ate our dinners out there often (and discovered that the bushes were infested with mice (or maybe rats, they looked pretty large) so we had to be careful not to leave food unintended, though they only came out at night, we didn't want to tempt them otherwise!

Our host was super lovely, and at one point his mum even brought us a cheese pie she'd made us! Score.















The first day of arrival, Christophe and Necia were understandably pretty tired, but Yannick and I were in an exploratory sort of mood, so we set off in the car for an adventure. It soon became apparent that at least half the island belonged to the military (Mussolini had at one point taken it over to build a huge naval base) this meant at what felt like almost every turn, we were blocked from going down that interesting looking road, due to the military signs forbidding us from going any further. At one point, following google maps towards something that looked interesting (our first mistake was trusting google maps!) we drove past a soldier on duty towards what looked suspiciously like a military camp, he didn't stop us but kept watching us suspiciously.















As it became more obvious that google was leading us astray and we seemed to be really heading into a military base we quickly reversed and ashamedly drove past the soldier again. I'm sure he was thinking oh dear, more silly tourists! There were also weird remnants of military activity from WWII, from old tunnels and crumbling buildings to tanks and planes in one place that we stumbled across!

The plans and crumbling buildings were rather interesting and atmospheric, whereas the tunnels with their dark gaping maws just creeped me out. I later found out that after WWII the army barracks were used to house internal political prisoners and then in the 1980s became well known as a mental hospital where patients were severely mistreated. Basically, Leros has a dark past, and, without trying to sound melodramatic, you can feel it. Funnily enough, the online tourist guides for the island mostly fail to mention all of this, focusing on the lovely beaches and villages instead. Hmmm. 

On our adventure that day, we also found an epic church on the water, and promised we would take the others back to it. Agios Isidoros is a little chapel, built on the ruins of a temple (people do love building things on top of other, older things don't they?).

The little chapel reminded me of the church at the end of the first Mama Mia movie, where they go to get married (c'mon, you know the one, don't pretend you don't!) If you just got rid of the hill. I wonder what the walkway looks like during a storm? The chapel itself seems to have weathered time well. 

One of my other issues with Leros was the fact that it seemed to have a rock shelf surrounding it, which was slippery and rather unpleasant to try swimming from beaches, especially after being so incredibly spoiled previously. We went on many an epic adventure looking for a decent beach, and eventually did find one, past the town of Lakki, well hidden and tucked away behind an abandoned building (also military looking) which seemed to only be occupied by goats. 

The beach didn't seem to be particularly well known, as we never had to share it with many people, which is always ideal!

In walking distance from our airbnb was the pretty Agia Marina, a cute as town with windmills by the water (one of which had been turned into a bar, tempting tempting!)

We also passed a lovely looking bakery, so of course had to enter and purchase some treats.

























The village was incredibly picturesque, and just like the stereotypical images you hold in your head for Greece.

























Also cats! Man I like this village.

























There were also windmills and a Kastro up on the hill (though these we drove to as they were a little high up!)

Overall we had a number of awesome experiences on Leros, but there was something about the island I didn't love. Maybe it was simply the feeling of being unable to access a lot of the island, trapped within set boundaries by the army, or its unhappy past. Whatever it was, I was excited to be heading to Kos next, though I won't soon forget the beautiful view from our balcony on Leros!