Surbiton High Street, Kingston-Upon-Thames, England

Surbiton in London

 

Date: December 15, 2010

Drink: Venti Quad Vanilla Latte plus two Chocolate Chip Cookies and a chicken and brie sandwich.

There are a couple of London Starbucks that are our usual haunts. Our choice of them usually has to do with not only their location, but also the parking costs. We spend a lot of time taking lessons in Kingston, but parking in the Kingston city centre is extremely expensive; either that, or we park far away for much cheaper and burn off all our caffeine just walking back to the car. Because of the cost of parking in Kingston, we decided to stay away from the Starbucks in the Kingston High Street (of which there are two cafés within a short walk of each other). Instead, we found the Surbiton High Street, about a 10 minute drive from Richard and Janet Gleave’s studio in Kingston, as well as a 10 minute drive from “Kelly’s School of Dance” in Hampton Wick, where Anne Gleave currently teaches. Often, we can get parking right out front the café; even better, Boots Pharmacy and Superdrug, two drug stores where I buy all of my beauty supplies while in England, are a short walk across the street.

It’s not the most comfortable of Starbucks. I generally prefer to spend more time in the Sutton High Street Starbucks (more to come on that location in the future), but it’s warm in the winter and, more importantly, the walls are cluttered with outlets, which is a definite plus. Out of all the regular Starbucks we go to, this is the one where we spend most of time; especially this trip, when we were taking 90% of our lessons in Kingston. In October, we came here so often that one of the baristas got to know us; unfortunately I don’t see her here this time. Maybe she got a new job? Moved to a different location? Or she could’ve gone home to visit her family for the holidays; I think she is from Poland. Anyway, hopefully she’ll be back in January, when we’re back as well.

Normally we don’t order food when we go to Starbucks. Actually, when we travel, we very rarely eat out. It will come as a surprise to our friends, many of whom join us for happy hour food 3 or 4 times a week when we’re home. But honestly, I think Bellevue (in Washington state) must be the Happy Hour capital of the world. I don’t see so many restaurants with late night happy hour, especially with such good food, anywhere else in the world (at least, I haven’t found them yet). But Bellevue Happy Hours serve high quality food at such low prices that it’s difficult to justify going to the store for dinner. I mean, what you get for the price you pay is simply that cheap.

Today, however, was a special circumstance. Our lessons this morning were at 9:00am, which meant we had to leave very early. And considering I had been awake the night before until 1am sewing my Showdance costume (go to http://blog2.emotionsdancesport.com/2010/12/19/pictures-of-my-showdance-look.aspx for pictures of the dress), I simply didn’t have time to make lunch today. So here was our schedule today: 5:30am, wake up. 7:00am, leave for Kingston. 9:00am, start two lessons with Richard Gleave. 10:30am, run errands. 1:00pm, go back to Kingston Dance Studio for practice. 2:30pm, go to Starbucks to do online errands. 4:30pm, leave Surbiton for Cheam, eat on the road. 5:45pm, start two lessons with Denise Weavers at Dance Options Studio in Cheam. 7:45pm, finally go home and collapse, exhausted, on the couch. Being that we ate at 6:00am, we were starving by the time we reached Starbucks, nine hours (four of which, dancing) later. Simeon ate a cookie while I ran to Superdrug to buy myself some more hair dye. I didn’t want to eat the cookie, My Showdance outfit shows my midriff and I wanted to look thin! I resisted. I seriously resisted. But finally I gave in to my urges, and ate a cookie just before hopping in the car. And by the way, that chicken and brie sandwich we shared a half an hour before starting our lessons with Denise was really good.

Surbiton High Street, Kingston-Upon-Thames

Wimbledon Train Station, Greater London, England

Wimbledon, in London

Date: December 14, 2010

Drink: Venti Quad Vanilla Latte

This Starbucks was unexpected. Normally we don’t use public transport in London, since our days are filled with driving from one studio to the next in order to take our lessons. However, when we were originally making our plans for London, we decided to use public transport during the second leg of our trip, because we were only going to be in London for 3 days. At the beginning of our trips to London, we only used public transport, one because we thought it was cheaper, and two because we were apprehensive about driving on the other side of the road. Well, we soon discovered that the opposite is true. Renting a car, even with the price of gas, is much cheaper than the public transport, especially if you take into account how many trips we would need to do each day; and driving on the opposite side of the road is not so bad after all. But we thought, this time, we would return to public transport. Unfortunately, to get from Carshalton, where we live in London, to Hampton Wick, where our first set of lessons that day were, it meant we had to go up and over the A3, a highway that runs north-south through southern London, instead of simply cutting across it like we do in car. And we had to make 2 changes….

Our first change was at Mitcham Junction, a pretty sad looking station that was so quiet and deserted at 7:30 in the morning. Yet as we continued on the tram that we caught at Mitcham Junction, the car soon became so full that it was difficult to find a bar to hold onto. Finally, after twenty minutes of desperately keeping my spot, we arrived at Wimbledon Station. We found the correct platform (platform 8) and I was just beginning to read the monitors to find out when our train would arrive when an announcement came on for a train that was not going to stop. The train came thundering past, and in the reflection of the train’s windows, I saw her – the Green Siren. She called to me even through the reflection. I turned to Simeon as the train sped into the distance and said, decisively, “There’s a Starbucks here.”

He looked around but could see nothing. “Where?” he demanded. I pointed to a large concrete column and replied, “I think just behind there.” We rounded the column, and there it was, Platform 8’s coffee stand with a healthy line behind it. Simeon shook his head and laughed. “Seriously,” he said, “how do you find them?” He licked his finger and stuck it up in the air. “Can you feel the Starbucks vibrations in the air or something?” I shrugged and gave him a sly smile. After all, I wasn’t going to tell him my secret.

Platforms 7 & 8 at Wimbledon Train Station

I thought we had some time to order a coffee, so I got in line. I had just ordered and was taking out my credit card to pay when our train pulled up to the platform. Hurriedly I called to Simeon, “Should I cancel the order or wait for it?”

His answer was noncommittal, so I paid for it and watched sadly as our train pulled away. I figured, when I paid for it, that there would soon be another one. Simeon was angry with me. He thought I’d already paid for it, and therefore didn’t tell me to just cancel it. I told him I wouldn’t have considered cancelling it if I had already paid for it. My guess about another train was correct; the next train for our stop came only 10 minutes later, which meant we had a nice 10 minutes to enjoy our coffee on the station platform.

So if you find yourself at Wimbledon Train Station and fancy a Starbucks, just remember: Platforms 7 & 8.

St. Pancras International, London, England

St. Pancras in London

Date: December 13, 2010

Drink Ordered: Venti Quad Skinny Vanilla Latte

We had tickets for the 9:13 train from Paris Gare du Nord to London, which meant we had to leave Jossigny early… very early…. We needed to drive back to Charles de Gaulle airport from Jossigny to drop off the rental car, then get on a train going toward central Paris and get off at the Gare du Nord station, then board the speed train to London. We were up at 6:00am, and we had gone to bed at 1:30… it was a short night, but longer than other nights we’ve had….

Our windy path to the speed train actually went without any problems. We had a little trouble finding the correct train at Charles de Gaulle, but other than that everything went smoothly! We got on our speed train, settled in for the two hour trip; Simeon whined because his laptop battery had hardly been charged and I laughed at him because mine was and in reality, he had stolen mine in the first place! Everything went great until somewhere in the Northern French countryside.

Then the train ground to a halt. There was a problem with a broken rail. In all, we arrived across the Channel in the Foggy Town’s own St Pancras Station almost an hour late. We weren’t too worried, though. It wasn’t as if we had anywhere to go. Except home! And the problem was, it had been years since we had taken public transport in London. We always rent a car! We had forgotten which train to take into Carshalton (southern Greater London) and if there was even a direct train. Simeon and I were getting antsy at each other. We saw a Costa but no Starbucks. Costa Coffee is usually our backup. After searching for a little for some information, we halted to try to reconnect.

Simeon asked, “Isn’t there a Starbucks anywhere?” I was snappy with him, and rolled my eyes and sneered, “No, you saw it for yourself. There’s only Costa….” My voice trailed off. Simeon looked at me sideways, wondering why I had suddenly lost my voice. I gave him a crooked smile. “Never mind,” I continued. “There’s a Starbucks right over there.” He quickly looked over his shoulder, then looked back at me and grinned. “Wow,” he said, holding back his laughter, “wow. Weren’t you just telling me there wasn’t a Starbucks here?” I shrugged. “My homing device hadn’t been turned on yet,” I replied.

Unfortunately, the Starbucks at St. Pancras is open air, despite the roof, which meant it was cold! But the coffee and the people around us kept us warm. It was great being back in an English speaking country, and great being back with cashiers who don’t look at me funny when I order a quad-shot. He took my order, gave it to the barista, then flashed me a mischievous grin and said, “Egh, you don’t need a quad shot. You don’t look very tired!”

I laughed. What a compliment! The day after the comp and a night of only 4 hours of sleep and he was kind enough to say I don’t look very tired! What a guy!

And by the way, in case you were wondering, we made it home via the train just fine after our coffee.

Starbucks at St. Pancras Station, London, England

La Vallee Village, Marne la Vallee, France

Val d'Europe, Marne la Vallee, France

Date: 12 December, 2010

Our first entry into the Starbucks Project is from France. Marne la Vallée is boony-land, a tributary of the Seine surrounded by far-stretching fields that, at this time of year, were muddy and covered with dirty, half frozen snow. Marne la Vallée’s only claim to fame is that it is home to Disneyland Paris Resort. On this weekend, WDC-AL held the Open World Amateur Championships at the Hotel New York at Disneyland, their answer to the terrible politic fighting that has been going on within the dance world. 2009 was the first year it was every held; we had meant to go last year, but budgetary concerns pushed us in the direction of the more local, and therefore cheaper, competition at Las Vegas. We went this year instead, but as professionals instead of amateurs.

Being that this was our first time at this comp, we had no idea what it would look like, how expensive the hotel would be, etc. In researching for the comp, we discovered that as far as our resources could tell, staying at the Disneyland Resort was cost-prohibitive. So, we decided to save some money and look for a budget hotel in the general area. It also meant we would need to rent a car, since the taxi cost to and from our hotel would be just as prohibitive. Everything worked out alright. We rented a room at a charming little hotel in Jossigny, a farming village in the Marne la Vallée. Of course, being that this was a tiny little village, it meant there was nowhere for us to eat. We asked at the reception and learned about a huge mall, near the Disneyland Resort, called Val d’Europe. Simeon went there Friday night to get some groceries.

On Saturday, we decided to drive out to Disneyland Resort to get an idea of the layout of the competition. We could only pay cash for the entry tickets, which meant we needed to find an ATM. We were told to walk into Disney Village. By this point, I’d decided I needed my coffee. Besides, we were in Disney Village. I knew there would be a Starbucks in here. My homing device was switched on.

I found the café within moments, which led us in turn to the ATM, which was ideally placed right next to Starbucks. Unfortunately, I had not brought my phone with me, and therefore could not take a picture in front of the café. And we didn’t go back the next day, because the normal coffee that Simeon and I order to share cost us $8 at this café!!! You read it correctly: $8. Or, €6 to be exact. We would go broke at that price. I gave up on having Starbucks the next day.

But when I awoke Sunday morning, I had a bright idea: we would spend the afternoon at Val d’Europe, where there would surely be a Starbucks! Off we went, trekking across the frozen flatlands of Marne la Vallée, searching desperately for parking at Val d’Europe. Once within the mall, I patiently waited while Simeon debated on whether he should buy the suitcase or not. Buy it, or not? Buy it, or not? Yes, buy it. No, maybe it’s not the right size. Let’s measure it with our phone. It was 5 ½ phones long, 3 phones wide, and 2 phones tall. What did that mean??

I told Simeon that we could find the Starbucks, which I was sure was hidden somewhere in this mall, where we could sit down with our computers and Starbucks’ Wifi, which has been a life-saver on multiple occasions, and look up the dimensions of the phone. Once we had that, we could calculate the dimensions of the suitcase, convert it all into centimeters, then look up the size requirements of the various airlines with which we travel and decide whether the suitcase is worth the €60 or not. We could do all of that while happily sipping our Vanilla Latte and checking our email!

My plan did not pan out. My homing device had led me astray. Despite the unmistakable surety of there being a Starbucks at the mall, we couldn’t find it anywhere. Finally, we sat down defeated at one of the French cafes and ordered the only thing besides espresso that they had on their menu – a cappuccino. It was a pathetically unsatisfactory end to our Starbucks quest, but I savored the cappuccino nonetheless. The espresso was good, and the dollop of whipped cream at the top added a nice temperature change. Meanwhile, Simeon was able to log onto the mall’s wifi and find out where the nearest Starbucks café was. The internet said central Paris (some 30 miles away) or Disney Village. I resigned myself to my cappuccino while he then calculated whether the suitcase was a good buy or not.

Renewed after my cappuccino break, I suggested we wander through the mall’s outlet shops, which was called La Vallée Village. Out in the winter sun, I felt my spirits lifting (by the way, anyone who wishes to challenge me by reminding me that winter does not technically begin until the 21^st, I have one thing to say to you: obviously, you have not been outside in Paris, because it is bloody freezing!). We were gaping at all of the designer outlet shops: Gucci, Prada, Emporio Armani, Valentino. Prices far above our dancers’ budgets. The sun was in my eyes. I was being blinded. I turned my head to the right to escape the glare of that low-sitting sun, and there it was – the unmistakable sign. The Green Siren herself.

I stopped dead in my tracks, turned to Simeon, and said with a point of my finger, “My homing device was correct, after all.” He just laughed. I had found what the internet said didn’t exist, the Starbucks Café in the Val d’Europe shopping center. We had already had our coffees, and didn’t feel like paying €5 for another coffee when the mall itself offered free wifi. But that didn’t stop us from beginning our Starbucks Project with a picture of the Val d’Europe Starbucks Café. And yes, in case you’re wondering, my hair is done up for competition, although I haven’t done my makeup yet. There is just one thing that strikes my eye when looking at this picture… what the hell are those people doing sitting outside? It was frickin’ cold!!!

 

 

 

 

 

La Vallee Village, Marne la Vallee, France

 

And a map of its proximity to Paris:

The Starbucks Project

Some might call it a gift, others might call it a curse. I just call it my sixth sense. I seem to be able to find Starbucks cafes no matter where I go in the world. If Starbucks has a presence in the city, I will find them. Whether it’s the only coffee shop in the middle of the Parisian boonies, or a café lost amidst thousands of others in the capital of Bulgaria, I seem to be able to find them.

I like coffee. I enjoy the smell of it, the taste of it, the very act of drinking it. And maybe some people will give me a long schpeel about how Starbucks is not the best coffee in the world, how many other small cafes make much better coffee, how frou-frou drinks are not real coffee anyway. You know what? Shove it! I travel around the world constantly, I am on the road probably about half of my life, so excuse me if I like to spend time in a café that looks and tastes the same no matter where I go. Not to mention the fact that every time I step foot in a Starbucks café or stand, I feel an absolute sense of pride. Starbucks is from my home town, after all, and it doesn’t seem to matter which country I’m in, I always have to wait in line. Starbucks is busy, all day round, all world round. In reality, my habit of going to Starbucks is not so much about the coffee as it is about feeling at home. And I know from conversations with other dancers like us, it is the same for them.

My idea for the Starbucks Project came from a friend of mine. It was early – not for him, but for me – and we were driving together to a meeting. I didn’t have time that morning to make my usual cappuccino, and I wanted a latte. Not only that, but I had been pretty strict about my diet for about a week now, and I was seriously craving some eggnog. So, I informed him that we were going to stop by Starbucks. He didn’t complain. I knew exactly where I was going. I knew there was a Starbucks about two blocks away from where I was, and that I would only need to turn right to get into it. Even better, I knew this was a Starbucks Drive-Through. He didn’t know I knew this. When he saw the Starbucks, he quickly pointed and informed me, “Kora, there’s a Starbucks over there!” To which I coolly replied, “I know. Where do you think I’m going?” He only shook his head and laughed. “Oh that’s right,” he chuckled, “I forgot you have a homing device for them.”

That got me thinking: if I can manage to find Starbucks so often that my friend, who was visiting from California, says I’ve got a homing device, then maybe I am really gifted?? I’m just kidding. More likely, I just keep myself alerted to the sight of the Green Siren. But my idea of the Starbucks Project sprouted from that. If Simeon and I were to calculate how many hours abroad we spent in Starbucks cafes, it would probably match the number of hours we sleep; or even more impressive, the number of hours we dance in a day. I then started to think about all of the different places we’ve gone to Starbucks cafes abroad, and at home, and I realized that cataloguing our trips to Starbucks cafes is a great way to show our friends and family – and maybe even the company themselves – of the great diversity of places we have the fortune to travel to and see each year. So, we’ve started taking pictures of ourselves outside of every Starbucks café we visit. Only once, I think. You don’t need to see the same café more than once. And I’d like to post a picture of a local map of the area on each post, with a pinpointed dot of where the café is. That way, not only can we give everyone an idea of how much we travel, but we can also help others who are travelling and are craving a taste of home. Because, like I said, Starbucks is something familiar and warm, a sense of home no matter where I am in the world. A cappuccino in America is not the same as a cappuccino in England, which is not the same as a cappuccino in France or in Bulgaria. But a Starbucks Venti Quad-shot Skinny Vanilla Latte is always the same (except in Bulgaria, where the largest size for hot drinks is Grande; but I can handle that). In a world as chaotic as my own, that is a luxury of normality I am not willing to lose.