It's all in the way you loppet...

Yesterday we went to spectate at a loppet on the Lake of Isles in Minneapolis. It consisted of lots of sporting and bearded types (yes women too!!... well not really) racing eachother in various ways upon the frozen lakes south of downtown Minneapolis, which are actually in Uptown. 

Being childishly amused, the highlight for us was the 'Skijoring loppet' which is when human cross-country skiers pair up with their doggy friends in a race full of calamity and distractions. 

So really, what is going on inside those doggies heads'? The happy-go-lucky pup who thought it was going on some fabulous long walk (albeit at high speed) would often get distracted by more interesting things along the way, like spectators who smelt good, and would wander off course for a sniff and a jump around – much to the amusement of us, but to a curt reprimand from its human partner! Other dogs, chasing other dogs' tails, got so excited they decided to start the mating ritual en route... leading to a mass lead tangle with the ensuing threesome!! Some felt the cold and thus needed to pee in the middle of the track and others simply had had enough and wanted to sit down and have a scratch. 

There were however some highly trained canines who listened to their owners as they shouted: "hy! hy! hy!" to propel them forwards faster as their tongues lolled out the sides other their mouths with the sweet taste of victory in salivating reach. (That's the dog by the way, not the owner.)

Take a look at some of the pairs in action:

  

 Go doggy go!! (Nice booties!) The dog is actually supposed to be in FRONT of the person, pulling them along, this golden retriever looks like he's going for a walk in the park...

  

Atta boy!! That's the way you do it!!

 

See that tension?! A very well trained pooch, but perhaps not quite big or strong enough to speed them both up?

 

These hounds had to pull the man and the baby! Cool sled though!

For those who wanted to take it a step further there was bike racing on an ice track. It was full of pumped up tyres and egos and we watched them wiggle their way around technical sections and zoom along at dangerously high speeds while trying to precariously overtake the bloke in front. 

There was a fashion prize that went out to the man wearing an all-in-one tight lycra bike suit that was designed to look like he was wearing overalls with a flannelette shirt. It came complete with a hammer 'hung' on his thigh and a handkerchief coming out of his 'back pocket'. Stunning. Best hair went to Gramps with the longest flowing white wizards beard, he also managed to crack a good pace alongside the rookies!

  

Who's the daddy? The overall winner who beat the rest by a mile and lapped they guy in the 'overalls'... can you see him in the background?! 

Round and round we go!!

Best Hair.

 And whilst you were warming up with your hot cocoa or inhaling your Divine Swine Pulled Pork Sandwich, you could peruse the talents of the local snow sculpturers. They varied in subject and skill, but here's probably one of the best ones.

 

We missed the night loppet where they placed blocks of ice with candles in them around the lake lighting the way with a huge ice pyramid at the finish line... it would have been beautiful, but now we have something to look forward to next year!

Life in pictures: 01

Our block of apartments is the brown one on the left, we're on the 10th floor!

The first 4 levels have car parks as well as flats. Level 4 is little india and the whole floor smells of fragrant curries 24/7!!

 

The view from our apartment! Flat as a tack.

Also from our apartment, this building in front is the MN Convention Centre. 

The approach into the city... the big plumes of smoke which punctuate the skyline show how much heating is being used to warm us all up!

Mall of America's internal rollercoaster rides and amusement parks!! It's really empty because it's a Tuesday.

Guy's polish meal at Kramarczuk's in St Anthony Main... beef mince with rice wrapped up in a big cabbage leaf with sauerkraut and a big gloopy sauce!!

My polish sausage, with sauerkraut (of course!) cheese and pickle... came with a side of potato salad too!

Everyone's SO nice.

Yesterday we met a lovely guy called Birk [berr-k]. (Yes, we had to get him to repeat it twice. Birk. No, not Dirk. Not Gert. It was noisy, you see. Birk.)

And, he was a really lovely, helpful guy who worked at this great cocktail bar and gave us lots of handy hints and tips on the city. But, unfortunately his name fell into that category of names which Jane Walmsley, author of 'Brit-think, Ameri-think: A translantic survival guide', identifies as one that Brits (or Aussies for that matter) are never, EVER called. According to Jane it's similar to calling your little girl 'Candida' in the US, or nicknaming your best chum 'Randy' in England. It just doesn't work.

But, Berk was very nice. So nice, infact, that he halved our bill as a 'welcome-to-this-ridiculously-cold-city present'! Now that's NICE! 

And he hasn't been the only nice one. Sayed who runs a restaurant in the Warehouse district said we could ring him if we were ever lost; and Susan from a designer furniture store in Uptown said if there is anything, seriously anything, we needed help with – we should just to pick up the phone. (Hmmm, what about cleaning the apartment?) Ron from the best kitchen shop ever (which sells a megalithic barbecue for 9000 bucks) wanted to drink pints of Guinness with the husband; Grant, from a certain mobile, sorry 'cell', provider buried deep within a skyway mall, was so nice he chaperroned us all the way to where we wanted to go when we started to create a whirlpool in the skyway system; and Tim our bank manager said we could stay in his log cabin for a week and he'd take us ice fishing. (Sorry. That one isn't actually exactly true.)

So, is all this 'niceness' making us run for the hills? (We have been living in London after all, where a mere glance and nod from a stranger provokes thoughts of 'happy slapping' filmed on mobile phones.)

No! Of course not! We're going to happily keep on floating along this swell river of niceties. It's such a refreshing change. Plus, we figure if we can keep getting half the bill knocked off our final tabs for a while, then that would be terribly nice indeed!

Top tips: On leaving London and arriving in Minneapolis

1. Wear Chanel makeup
People, if you EVER need to make an anticipated teary farewell to friends (and a country) all of which you dearly love, look no further than Chanel. From their foundation to their powder to their blusher and mascara – with these on your quivering emotions' side, you will withstand the wear and tear of those big fat tears rolling down your cheeks and the multitude of (gentle) tissue dabbing by yourself and (more vigorous) dabbing by your partner. No red nose, no blotchy skin, no panda eyes – you will look a picture of perfect melancholy once you board the plane. This will avert any cabin crew's concern about a certain slightly crazed looking passenger (esp. when travelling to the US) and instead incite feelings of wanting to, say, bump you you up a class or something. (Alas, we clearly didn't look depressed enough, so had to make do with sympathetic offerings of extra pretzels.)


2. Although it's fun, do not follow the SatNav's drive simulator
So, you've arrived in the new country, it's about midnight your time, but 6pm local time and you've just hired a bigger car than you imagined you would. It has 4WD (for the snow, you know) and SatNav has also just been included into the package (just to avoid getting lost).  

With the car's engine purring and its heating pumping gently onto your slightly chilly feet, you drive around the rental car carpark a few (too many) times before you finally find the exit and are able to switch the SatNav on – carefully keying in the destination and then hitting 'GO' button! And seeing as you've never used a SatNav before it seems logical to also select the 'simulate drive' option and follow this as it gives you the instructions (in an Australian accent, how uncanny!) and seems to move along with the car. Plus, since it's dark and the car's a monster and you're driving on the wrong side of the road in the snow and you don't know really know where you're going and you're a bit tired – you take it sensibly easy. 

All seems to be going well, until, WAIT! the roads don't correspond, you seem to be in a big city with the same named streets but with the wrong layout. Everything seems familar (look! there are skyways!!). But not (I don't remember these buildings at all). And then you realise you're in the TWIN city of St. Paul and NOT in Minneapolis, but you never realised that 'twin' meant 'identical' in street names but all in the wrong orientation and that the drive simulator had driven faster than you. So, you'd been following the road turns and not the actual road names which meant you've ended up in completely the WRONG city.


You calmly pull over (swearing quietly) a few times after you finally realise your error, redirect the SatNav to the REAL destination in the RIGHT city and arrive with only minorly ruffled feathers and sweaty palms. And then, just to keep with tradition, you circle the block a few times to trying find the (damn) entrance to the resident parking in your apartment building, only because it's fun to drive in the snow.


3. Practice the 'when in Rome' theory

Do you remember those 80's American cop shows where some incredibly good-looking rookies sat around eating chinese takeaways late at night out of those fabulous folded white takeout boxes with little metal handles? Order them. It feels right... it might be only 9pm but with jetlag you've you've earnt it after a hard day on the beat chasing, err, the right streets. Noodles, chopsticks and the obligatory fortune cookie as you watch your new hometown football team fighting for glory on the TV. 

Congratulations, you're living like a local already. Now you can safely go and collapse into bed knowing that you've properly arrived.

Leaving on a jet plane

By the time you're reading this we'll be winging our way to Minneapolis with 5 bottles of wine smuggled in 4 suitcases and a pair of big snowboots on our feet.

It's really happening. And we're ready. It feels like we're going on a bit of a long holiday!

Au revoir Europa, bonjour Americana!

See you on the other side... we love you we love you we love you.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx