Oxford

We arrived in Oxford today and neither of us seemed to take any photos, so you'll just have to check out my big set on flickr for a visual update (check back a few posts). Oxford is just as I remembered it, snarling traffic, pretty pedestrian unfriendly even right in the center; loads of rusty bikes and bad cycling. BUT - The History of Science Museum and the Oxford Museum are out of this world still.

We're off to Birmingham tomorrow, and then back to Oxford after that for a few days, I promise more photos and a more interesting update.

Winchester, all day

One of the reasons I, personally, was very keen on coming to Winchester is because Matilda of Flanders, on whom I will eventually write 30,000 blood-stained words - or "Your Girl," as James insists on referring to her - was crowned here. O! such a connection!


We like fancy ceilings

Yeh, right. Turns out she would have been crowned in the Old Minster, which was demolished to make way for the new, present cathedral in about 1093. Normans and their determination to have shiny new-fangled things, I say. She wasn't even mentioned in the City Museum! Nor anywhere in the cathedral! Humph. Just because basically no one has heard of her...


13th century tiles, upon which visitors are asked to 'tread with care'

We liked the cathedral nonetheless, attending Evensong twice and going once to gawk as tourists. It has a mighty impressive stone screen, with lots of statuary in it, at the end of the quire; Jane Austen has a plaque somewhere in the place, but I never found it. There's a little section off to the side with the Winchester Bible - glorious illuminated pages; most of the pictures in the New Testament aren't finished, probably because they ran out of money, and maybe nine of the picture-capitals have actually been cut out at some stage: possibly for well-to-do ladies to put in their scrapbooks. There's also a Triforium - in what's basically a mezzanine level - with bits and pieces of statuary that was largely destroyed thanks to the Reformation and Bully Boy Cromwell.

We also visited the City Museum. We're big fans of this sort of museum, by now: it's free; it's not very big; objects have been carefully chosen to give a good overall impression of different stages in the city or county's development; there are little hands-on activities for kids; and it's not overwhelming. To get a sense of the development and achievements and history of just one are is incredibly valuable, I think. Even if they neglected Matilda. Winchester, of course, was the site of an Iron Age settlement - there's a nice river nearby - and also a Roman settlement:


A mosaic discovered basically intact, just out of Winchester

The rest of the day was spent organising the rest of our trip, lazing around, and then drinking beer on a patio next to the river. Delightful.

The Giants Causeway (More Photos)

The Giants Causeway, originally uploaded by Third Glance.

Thanks to MG's efforts back in Australia I have another batch of photos - This set covers quite a bit more time than the last lot, most of Northern England, Scotland, Ireland and the very top of Wales.

Click here to see the second batch.

We must be near London

Everything has got more and more expensive recently, plus the cars have got bigger and flasher... We seem to be squeezed off the road here a bit more by Ranger Rovers, Audi Hummers (Q7s) and Jeeeaaaaggggsss (You'll have to wait until you see this seasons top gear to understand that one - or click here and watch it). Still this is the very bottom of our loop, next we turn North up towards Oxford.



30 miles or so from Salisbury to Winchester, and sadly no funny stories to recount apart from the cute duckies at lunchtime oh and the point where our route just stopped ... That was hilarious.

Salisbury

The whole purpose of coming to Salisbury was to visit the cathedral:



And St Jude's Carlton thinks it has problems... the work here began maybe 10 years ago, and won't be finished until 2015

We got ourselves a B&B just outside the cathedral close, which was awesome. The first thing we did once we were in was head over for Evensong, which was delightful even though it wasn't the usual cathedral choir (it's holiday time). Apparently, some of these guest choirs rehearse all year for their week's appearance here. As you would, frankly. Also, some of the choristers were so little they could barely see over the rail of the seats.

The next morning we headed back to the cathedral to be tourists:



This font was consecrated on the 750th anniversary of the cathedral, last September. One of the very awesome things about this place is that it was the only medieval cathedral built all in one go. There had been a cathedral at what is now called Old Sarum - but it was apparently quite a windy spot, and when it got hit by lightning the diocese grabbed the opportunity to build a glorious new building in this new-fangled style called Gothic. Et voila - new cathedral in just 38 years. Amazing! As the font testifies, it's still a living building in many ways - see also this window at the eastern end:



It's dedicated to prisoners of conscience, and there's a huge Amnesty candle in the corner too. The window is only about 20 or so years old; not sure what happened to the glass formerly known as...

Other things we did around Salisbury:
walked along the river in the sun to have a pint and a Pimms&lemonade in a pub that used to be a mill;
visited the Salisbury and Wiltshire museum, which has a cool exhibit on Stonehenge - including the bones and artefacts of the Amesbury Archer, whose burial had the most impressive set of archery paraphernalia of any neolithic burial - and who apparently came to Britain from the Alps;
finally got my hands on Pride and Prejudice and Zombies;
wandered the town centre, much of which is pedestrianised - it's really lovely.

Back to the cathedral for Evensong again the second night... this section of our trip really deserves the name Cathedral Crawl.

Glastonbury to Salisbury

49 miles (79km)

Sun, Rain, Sun, Rain, Sun, Rain ... The trip across from freak town to spire town is pretty uneventful, takes a while by bike though. We're staying almost on top of the Cathedral in the center of town, spire view out our window. Looking forward to exploring tomorrow, more photos then !

Glastonbury

Things we did not do

Get our auras read
Attend a psychic healer
Have our tarot cast
Get our fortunes told
Go to the crop circles symposium
Buy a wand, or crystal, or a £329 cashmere dress

Things we did do

Attended a service at Wells Cathedral - here's another picture, just because:



Climbed Glastonbury Tor:



It's a hill rising some 150m or so above the plain, capped with the tower you can see here that's part of a medieval church. James mentioned yesterday that Glastonbury attracts a certain amount of nuttiness... this website about the Tor will give you a better idea of what that's actually about. It makes me giggle every time I look at it. What I loved was that people hike all the way up... and then there's cow pats everywhere. Doesn't do a whole lot for the place's atmosphere.

Things we didn't do: Glastonbury Tor edition
Invoke the King of the Fairies
Form a Deep, Personal and Emotional Bond with the hill
Participate in, or witness, any neo-pagan nuttiness
Get blown off the Tor
(One of these things actually did nearly happen. I leave it to you to figure out which.)



Went to Glastonbury Abbey:



... sadly, in the rain. The Abbey is another reason for a certain degree of nuttiness in the town. Legend says (and isn't that just a loaded term) that Joseph of Aramethea visited, possibly bringing Jesus as a lad; then came back after the crucifixion, maybe bringing a certain item... (we stayed on Chalice Hill, if a bigger hint is necessary). Add to that the medieval monks who claimed to have dug up Arthur and Guinevere's graves - oh, did I forget to mention that traditionally Glastonbury is the Isle of Avalon? - and there is THIS MUCH potential for crazy-ass trinket shops.

It really is an impressive set of ruins, though; it was one of the longest monastery churches in Britain in its day, and at the Dissolution was second only to Canterbury in dollar value. I really hope wise heads prevail and they don't put up an Arthur statue...

Had pizza at a Lygon St-esque joint:
again.

Bath to Glastonbury

30 miles (48.3km)

I hadn't really considered that this southern part of the UK would be hilly, in my mind, Scotland was hilly, Wales was hilly, the Pennines were hilly but not boring, flat old southern England. Whoops, the first mile of the day was a 10% climb and that was a pretty good indication of things to come.

Up, down, up, down, long up, long down - Oh look, the Glastonbury Tor in the distance, and a 30 miles per hour descent for the last couple of miles in to Wells. A quick lunch stop at the Cathedral to have a look around and chat to my bike nerd buddies in Melbourne (who were all partying/watching the last mountain stage of the tour, and some what incredulous that I'd not timed the day better to be watching as well). We raced to Glastonbury to try and catch the end of the race, which we managed, the last 6km anyway. Turns out not much happened up Mt V anyway, the three leaders were split by too much time and Armstrong was never going to take Andy Schleck.





Glastonbury is eeerrr, different. If anyone needs me to pick them up a spare wand, a new spell book or perhaps a template for 'make-your-own-crop-circles' just drop me an email today. We finished up the day with wonderful Italian pizza made by a small army of elderly Italian gents in a bustling little pizzeria.

Bath

Bath achieves a remarkable sense of light through one main factor: the vast majority of its buildings are built from, or at least faced with, cream-coloured sandstone. This uniformity of colour can sometimes be bad - Edinburgh, because it's so grey, felt awfully gloomy when it was overcast. Here, because the colour is so light and because it's offset with darker roofs and dark roads and a variety in the cream - well, it's just stunning. When you add that it's a bit like Rome in that the town seems to be built on at least seven hills, and that more modern buildings still often follow the Georgian trends for terraced houses: Bath is a very attractive town.

Of course, the big attraction of Bath is THE baths, Aquae Sulis - the Roman bathhouse complex that I believe is one of the best preserved in the world.



The bath complex is a wonderful museum. It would have been so easy for it to be either overwhelming, with too many artifacts, or entirely cheesy. It's neither. There is a good, relatively small, selection of things to look at: reconstructions of mosaics, and the Gorgon pediment, were my favourites. I also like the tiny little gems which may have been offerings, but were more likely lost by their owners because the glue in the setting was loosened in the water; many of them have tiny pictures etched on them, like a discus thrower or animals. Then you go out and through the different sections of the bathhouse itself: massage rooms, the cold-plunge room, etc. Of course, the centrepiece is the grand pool itself:



Tourists get an off-kilter view of the site, really, because the pool would have been roofed, for the Romans - there's a bit of the arch left, at ground level - and part of the museum which shows the courtyard and main temple area, which is now contained within the building, would have been exposed to the elements. Still, it's another occasion where you get to see something that's survived - in some form or other - for 2000 years. The other thing that makes a visit to the baths very special is the audio guide. We've eschewed the guide everywhere else, but there's a good reason for getting it here: the Bill Bryson commentary. Which he clearly recorded as he walked around himself, because you can hear background noises like the springs in the recording as well as right where you are.

Interestingly, we think that the experience was somewhat better in winter. This is partly because in winter it's easier to see the steam rising off the water; it's also because there were fewer people. Having said that, we were amongst the first people through the doors this morning - it was only as we left that there were lots of people crowding around.

The other thing I loved about Bath is the Abbey.



That previously mentioned sandstone helps here, too, because Bath Abbey manages to evoke an immense sense of light and majesty, for me anyway, because the flying buttresses and soaring columns seem somehow lighter in weight because they're lighter in colour... something like that anyway. It's aided by this incredible window:



... which has something like 56 panels showing seems from the Bible.

And of course, we love ceilings:



Finally, I tried really, really hard to buy Pride and Prejudice and Zombies here, because I've found it nowhere else. Sadly, here too it was sold out. Darn it.

Two days in one: Abergavenny-Chepstow-Bath

Abergavenny to Chepstow: 34 miles (54.4km)

A final hurrah through Wales that included one massive climb, with a section at 16% incline for what felt like a very long time (me, I piked early and walked). Perhaps the coolest thing we saw was the view out over the Severn inlet. It's incredible tidal, and the tide was well out as we looked down on it. The bridge is an amazing structure... but more on that later. We also saw a castle in Chepstow, which was much more impressive than I had expected; it looked from the outside like just a single section of a keep, but it turned out to be about three times longer than it is wide. I also got the chance to get a mad picture of the spiral stairs:



OK, so this was actually taken by James, leaning out and endangering my camera. Whatever. The other cool thing about Chepstow Castle is that they stage Shakespearean plays (and hopefully others) in the grounds.


Chepstow to Bath: 46.5 miles (74.4km)

Actually, to say we were in Chepstow itself is somewhat misleading; we were staying in St Arvans, about 2 miles out of Chepstow. But that's ok, I won't hold it against James; these mistakes are easy enough to make.

Our journey today would have been 8 miles shorter had we not recklessly decided to visit Tintern Abbey as well. Tintern is north of Chepstow, so we sweet-talked our (Irish) hostess into letting us leave the bags there while we zipped up and back. We took back-roads to get to the Abbey; we took the A road back, which was faster, and not as steep to climb, and didn't have mossy sections nor wet leaflitter to negotiate. Tintern Abbey itself was incredible, and worth the extra 8 miles:



After we reclaimed our luggage, we headed out through Chepstow and threw ourselves across the Severn. There are two bridges over it (it's weird they have a website for that, yes?): this is the one we didn't ride across.



Fortunately there is a dedicated, barricaded-from-the-cars cycle path; otherwise this would have been a decidedly hairy ride, since it was a bit windy. It's nearly a mile from end to end. And there were blokes out painting it while we rode... Paul Hogan, anyone?

From the Severn we rode to Bristol, which was an entirely uninspiring and basically boring ride through ugly countryside, boring suburbs, and hair-raising inner-city streets. Give me Newcastle any day. Or Glasgow. Fortunately, the last section from Bristol to Bath was along one of our favourite things: a disused railway. It was basically flat the entire way, so we managed to do it in decent time.

Ensconced in our B&B (Kiwi hosts this time), I'm really looking forward to tomorrow - Roman Baths! Woohoo! I can almost guarantee we will disappoint those Jane Austen fans in the audience; author-tripping is not something that appeals. And the Georgians are waaay too modern.

Finally, because I can never resist the Kates:

I also like puddles

By The Argo
Transcribed, and spelling corrected, by Alex

I do not like gravel paths;
I do not like not-flat paths.
I do not like mucky wet leaf litter on the path.
I do like smooth bitumen;
I also like puddles.

I do not like bridle ways;
I do not like A-roads.
I do not like bogs.
I do like little country lanes, especially with smooth bitumen;
I also like puddles.

I do not like steep ascents;
I do not like steep descents.
I do not like tricksy oh-you're-nearly-at-top-oh-no-you're-not corners.
I do like nice flat little country lanes, especially with smooth bitumen;
I also like puddles.

I do like starting out;
I do like finishing up.
I like following Henry,
And I like zooming past him.
I also really, really like puddles
(As long as they're not too deep).

Alex's view on Wales

Just call me Dory; it's a good thing I have a bad memory.

I love Wales. It really is a beautiful country. Even the riding has been... mostly ok.

Hay on Wye

This one is for Kate

As James said, Book Town: a big secondhand bookshop was opened here in the 1960s, I think, and in some way that I don't entirely understand the town eventually got itself a reputation as the secondhand book capital of the country. There are apparently over 30 bookshops here, and The Guardian Book Week (I think it's called?) floods the area in May each year. I was mildly paralysed when it came to figuring out exactly how to exploit the place without being sent mad. The answer turned out to involve basically ignoring the two really big places (especially the Hay Cinema Bookshop: imagine a cinema that's converted to holding books...), and having a deliberate section of books to look over thoroughly. Unsurprisingly, for me that was the SF section, and I picked up eight old paperbacks - mostly feminist SF I've been meaning to get for ages. This was good also because I arrived in Hay with no books left to read. The horror!

Brecon Beacons



We loved this area when we were here last time, so it was good to see it again. Even if, when we announced our plan to go this way, our hostess in Hay looked slightly alarmed on our account; looking at the graph in James' post below you'll understand why. However, hopefully my photos will give you some idea as to why it was (basically) worth it.


Llanthony Priory

This was our lunch spot on the way to Abergavenny. Feels like ages since I've seen something medieval!

Challenge the Dragon - Lon Las Cymru

We're back faithful readers, stymied by lack of internet and flooding for a while, we've emerged out of the electronic darkness and into the light. We've also challenged the dragon and won.

The major cycle route down the spine of Wales is called Challenge the Dragon - depending on exactly where you go it's about 300 miles. We've just arrived in Abergavenny which marks the last of the climbs (I'll include a couple of recent profiles for the bike nerds to enjoy).



Cwrt to Rhayader - This was without a doubt the hardest day in Wales, the major climb is 13km and just gets steeper and steeper as you go up. For us it also started raining at the bottom and just got heavier and heavier before it set in for the rest of the day. The last section of the big climb on the profile above is sort of deceptive, the reality is it's lumpier and steeper, so there are short 200 or 300m sections at 13 and 15% with shallower climbs between. Very hard on the legs and difficult to keep a rhythm.

From there it was a long undulating descent to our lunch stop at the 30 mile mark (49km), I don't think I've ever been so happy to see a hippy cafe. REAL FOOD, I had one of the best baked potatoes I've ever had in my life, and everything there (like all good hippy cafes) was CHEAP. We still can't quite get over just how expensive food is here, and normally good food is really expensive.

Onwards; as usual, if we've enjoyed a big lunch there is a large climb just to help it settle, today was no exception. We arrived pretty wet and tired after our 45 miles (72.5km).

Rhayader to Hay-on-Wye (Book Town) - A flat(ish) 40 miles (64.5km) down the river Wye to the town of Hay and we arrived in Book town. I think I'll let Alex write about that in another post lest this one become a book itself. Highlight for me though, seeing 1 day old duckling at the place we stayed on the river.



Hay-on-Wye to Abergavenny - Perhaps my favorite of the Welsh hilly days, only 23 miles (37 km) and most of that downhill. After leaving Hay the road turns upwards straight away for a steady 6 mile climb to the highest point in the Welsh part of the National Cycling Network at something over 500m high. It does get pretty steep in the middle, but then eases off again, so just when you think you might pop the road shows some mercy and up you go. The descent down the other side is a little hairy, for 25km it's a one lane road with 10 foot hedges on either side. I think quite a few people thought they would take the 'pretty' road to the Welsh Royal Show because we passed loads of cars coming at us, and only got passed perhaps once or twice all day. Now here we are, in Abergavenny which is a super little town having challenged the dragon and won. A rest day here and then we're off to England again.

Alex's Aborted Pilgrimage

Editors' Note: Events may have transpired some days previous to this post, however fickle internet in Wales along with some flooding has seen us silenced for a few days. But fear not loyal readers, today we have 3G again and will post with vengeance.

When we were enjoying the luxuries of our B&B near Pennal, it occurred to me that I should check the location of Bron-Yr-Aur. Bron-Yr-Aur is a cottage that Robert Plant and Jimmy Page lived in for some months, with their families, and wrote half of Led Zeppelin III. I knew it was in Wales somewhere.... When I checked, and discovered that it was just four miles from where I sat, I had quite a Moment. When I check our cycling map and discovered that our route the next day would take us past the track leading to it, I had another Moment. Seeing this, James had basically no choice but to agree to taking me "on my damned Led Zeppelin pilgrimage."

The turn off to the cottage had a sign announcing it as "unfit for motors." We walked up a hill, pushing the bikes, around a corner, and through a gate. At that point we ditched the bikes. We walked up another hill, around a corner, and at the point where Google Maps said Bron-Yr-Aur was, we found a little sign: "Bron-Yr-Aur" and an arrow, pointing up another track. We followed this sign up another hill, around another corner, and eventually we got close enough to see a cottage, which might have been Bron-Yr-Aur but also had a caravan, solar panels, and a Dalmatian.

As we left might-have-been Bron-Yr-Aur and the (now barking) Dalmatian behind, James sad gravely: "You know what that was, Lex ?

"That was experience."

(Experience is what you get, when you didn't get what you wanted.)

Good thing I have several hours' worth of Led Zeppelin on my phone, frankly.

Around the Welsh highlands

29 miles (46km) from Dolgellau to Cwrt (go on, I dare you to try pronouncing that in front of a Welsh person)

Today was perhaps the most consistently beautiful day we've had to date, in terms of the scenery. Leaving Dolgellau, we climbed up - fairly steeply at first (2km @ 10% average), then a bit more gradually with a few steep bits - for around 8 miles. This brought us up onto a ridge that we followed for a bit longer, and then eventually we plummeted into a valley. We wound our way in a fairly crazy loop around the valley, and didn't quite get to the coast; then we headed back up another hill, through a valley, and ended up at one of the nicest B&Bs we've stayed in yet.

For dinner, we walked to a nearby town - in the rain - and managed to score a lift in a very nice Jag with a very nice couple for the last quarter of a mile or so. It was an uneventful day, but a beautiful day, so why not a pictorial post to celebrate.

Common questions and comments

These are questions and comments directed towards us more than once in the last two months or so (with attendant answers... some of which have been sub-vocal).

Are you on a gap year?
No, despite looking 22 we are in fact 30 and rapidly heading for decreptitude.

Will you get to x, y or z?
No.

Despite knowing that you have maps showing the cycling routes, let me tell you how to get via a busy A road and in a really complicated manner.
Gee, thanks!

That's a lot of baggage.
We're here for five months.

That's not a lot of baggage.
We're here for five months by bike.

Addenda: ok, so it's now four months; but we were planning on it being five...

Did you hire the bikes here or bring them over?
We brought them with us.

You must be fit.
Yes.

You will be fit by the end of this!
Do we look crazy enough to plan something like this without already being a bit fit?!

Are you riding a tandem?
I'd like to still be married by the end of this trip, thanks.

Would you like the full breakfast?
Hell no.

You should have an engine on the back wheel.
Cue crickets. And maybe a tumbleweed.

Comedy is tragedy that happens to someone else.

Today we rode from Porthmadog to Dolgellau - 33 miles (53km)

I have to say today has been one of the hardest days riding yet, but Alex tells me that tragedy is comedy when it happens to someone else, so I figure today must be hilarious for all you lot reading. Let's look at the challenges we faced, pictorially.

Hills



There were many hills, most longer, but none steeper than this one

Moss covered descents


These were not photographed on account of both of us being scared of stopping and moving out of the faint wheel marks on an otherwise SLICK road surface (thanks mostly to the mucky wet leaf litter).

Bogs



We turned off the 'main' road onto what could best be described as a farm track; the view at least was spectacular.



Then we came across the first of many bogs.



And another. Alex wanted to give up and walk through, I insisted on us keeping our feet dry. Which resulted in Alex having dry feet, and me ... not.

Rocks and a mountain bike park



I'll just let this section of the map speak for itself.

Update: It has been pointed out to me by a reader that this section, was clearly warned on the map, and is therefore our own damn fault. This is true, however I didn't read the warning until AFTER we'd ridden that whole section...

Wind

Now just when we came out of the forest and onto the open road, Al says, well at least this last section isn't bad, at which point we turned a corner and had to ride into a stiff headwind for the last 5 miles.

We made up for it with Indian for dinner though - Indian and Cobra beer - and now I'm watching new season Top Gear before all the rest of you, so I reckon it's still a pretty good day.


Alex says: hmmm. Good thing I have the memory of a goldfish. "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...". I ordered "Sag walla prawn," which would allegedly have king prawns in it. Not so much; they were more like mini shrimps. The riding was all right.

Trains and steam and mountains

Today we wandered into Porthmadog (we're staying just outside it, in Tremadog) and bordered the Ffestiniog Railway, heading for Blaenau Ffestiniog.

On the way up we rode the David Lloyd George; on the way back down, we rode:

... which is the Welsh name for Merlin Ambrosius, you unlettered people.

The train goes quite high into the mountains, I think; there were certainly some points where we could see out into the valley, and it looked a long way down. I'm fairly sure we saw a nuclear power station in the distance. We spent about two hours in Ffestiniog, wandering the main street and having lunch (as well as slate, I am now in love with Welsh rarebit).

Back at the station, James had the opportunity to chat with the driver and the fireman of the engine, and have a sticky at the (very small, exceptionally hot) footplate and firebox. It's unusual in that the footplate, where the fireman stands, is side-on: the engines on this line are all double-ended, which makes switching ends a whole lot easier, but it means the engine is split down the middle by the boiler. The engines are short, but they're powerful. The fireman has to shovel coal out onto the floor, then open the door of the firebox (without burning his legs), and then shovel in the coal. And I'm pretty sure that the guys running it today are volunteers. Also, the trains on the line - which was of course originally All About the Slate - were in the Olde Days pulled up by horses and then went down courtesy of Gravity. Then, a man whose name I have forgotten wanted to test out his new idea for engines - these double-ended ones - and because it worked so well, he let them make more for this line without charging royalties. Nice!

Anyway, we saw a lot of this:


This area is very different from the landscape we saw on the Welsh Highland Railway - this is much more lush, with very few outcrops of rock until you get right up to Ffestiniog... and even there the town is dominated by slate slag heaps, not by natural outcrops.

We opted not to take the rather expensive tour of a working slate mine, today, given how good the free one had been.

And finally, because I am proud of having taken them out the window and because Too Many Trains is Never Enough (right, Willski?):

Things you can do with slate

Roofing tiles
Fence palings
Fences
Drinks coasters
Earrings


Necklaces
Plaques of all different sorts
Gravel
Tombstones
Walls (on farms; for houses)
Castles
Churches
Clock faces
Pavement/flooring

James forgot to mention that we took a tour through the Slate Museum. The guide, Peredur, is a carpenter at the museum and had previously been a manager at a quarry, so he really knows his stuff. He was fascinating, and insightful, and exactly what you want in a guide; not a single "And we're walking..." was heard.

Also? I'm in love with slate. I want a slate roof. And slate floors. And slate coasters.