I'm off to London for a semester of new faces, new places, rain clouds and coats, tea and crumpets, fish and chips, and of course, finishing up school.
With only a few days remaining, I feel as though I did when we (the study abroad students) took our "flight" in the London Eye: here I am, in London, and it's beautiful...yet the more I try to enjoy it, the faster it keeps spinning by. It was stunning to see the city all lit up at night. It made me realize how "homey" London has become, yet at the same time, seeing this sea of lights beneath me made me strangely homesick for the softer glow of a distant farm town.
I shall be there soon enough. Yet in the meantime, Pam and I are trying to make sure we have covered all of our bases. This morning we took a break for cramming for our last test and venture up to Abbey Road. Check (see picture above). Tomorrow will probably entail the British Museum, laundry, and some last minute Christmas shopping.
Today I finished my last ever undergraduate test (hopefully). To celebrate, Pam and I came back and took the most glorious nap. Now it is snowing/sleeting out, and making my mind drift towards the Midwest. Christmas Eve is only a week away!
Well, Mom and I "trotted" over to Paris this weekend via the Eurostar. Yes, I know, we're world travelers. The first thing that must be said is that Paris in the middle of December, like Minnesota, is freezing. I thanked God that I was from the Midwest and could handle it, while Mom put on 7 layers of clothes. Then, with our "Lonely Planet" guide book in hand, we were off to see the city.
I won't even try to recount the entire weekend, b/c we really did see the city. So, as Mom tries to stuff more treasures into her already +50 lbs. suitcase and I further procrastinate my final papers, we will make a list of some of our top observations/memories of our Parisian adventure:
1) It's true: if you don't know French, don't expect a warm welcome. My attempts to learn the basics did not even suffice. 2) Paris, like any big city, has many different faces. From the small, twisted streets of the Latin Quarter to the extravagant boulevards such as the Avenue des Champs-Elysees to the hilly paths of Montmartre (to the more "colorful" area near our hotel)...we saw them all. 3) The French know how to make pastries...and crepes. 4) It's expensive. However, one can save 30-40 euro a meal by purchasing some cheese, fresh baguettes, wine, and grapes - bon apetit! 5) Mom still does not have an appreciation for nude art, but this is not from lack of studying it. 6) The Eiffel Tower is beautiful. However, if you actually want to go up it, either pre-order your tickets or be prepared to wait in line for several hours. 7) The art scene is still alive and well: although Manet, Degas, Renoir, Picasso, and Van Gough are memorialized in the numerous museums, check out the Montmartre square to see masterpieces being created. 8) If you don't have a significant other, don't be deterred...it's just as romantic w/ your mother.
On Monday afternoon, I found Mom sipping a hot chocolate in the arranged meeting cafe. It was somewhat miraculous, yet so commonplace at the same time, to see such a familiar face so far from her usual habitat. But wonderful all the same.
Since then, we have been busy, busy. Monday we went to the British Library, one of the first things I had first explored. The rain prevented any further excursions except for grocery shopping. Ah, I love grocery shopping, especially w/ Mom. We picked up some crumpets for breakfast (Mom was not a fan, however).
Tuesday we toured the east side of London, including St. Paul's Cathedral, the Millenium Bridge, and some other cool neoclassical buildings. Then we met up with my art class to explore some independent art galleries. Mom really liked the first one, a fabricated WWII bunker. After class, we went to Harrod's department store w/ Pam and picked up some Christmas gifts in the famous food stalls. Mom got some good pics of the pretty food displays, as well as the boy behind the counter selling us our Belgium chocolates - so good!
With our feet beginning to drag, I prodded her onto the Albert and Victoria Museum. I hadn't been there yet, so we had a good time oohing and ahhing over the 1000 yr.-old articfacts. Highly recommend it. After that, we stopped off at the Hummingbird Bakery for a chocolate cupcake, then sped back to Nido on the tube.
We rested our feet while watching "Notting Hill" in preparation for today. This morning we had breakfast at a very chic cafe that I've passed every Wednesday on my way to class and always say to myself "I'll take Mom there when she comes." I left her to entertain herself while I went to class, then we shopped the cute botiques and gift stores on the way back to my dorms.
A power nap later, we were refueled for a trip to Notting Hill. We were very successful in our trip down Portobello Road, lined with antique shops and their owners waiting to tell a story to anyone with a wallet.
The highlight of the day was dinner at the Norwegian YMCA w/ Anja. Turns out it was Christmas card and gingerbreak making night. So, this evening we decorated Christmas cards to the smell of baking gingerbread and hum of Norwegian chatter in Notting Hill. Very pleasant day.
I will try my best describe how perfect this weekend was, but I doubt I will do it justice. This is the trip that Pam and I waiting in line for two hours at the International Student House to make sure we got. On Saturday morning, Pam, Anja, and I, along with a bunch of other international students (from Germany, Switzerland, Turkey, S. Korea, China, and America) took the mandatory trip to Stonehenge, where we took the mandatory photos. The English clouds never cease to amaze me.
After contemplating why there were several-ton rocks in the middle of nowhere, we loaded ourselves back into the ISH minibus and made our way into Salisbury. We grabbed a quick lunch (which entail "pasties" = delicious pot pies of a sort) and then took a tour of the Salisbury Cathedral. The most wonderful old man showed us around this magnificent monument, which boasts the highest spire in all of the UK. It really was one of the most beautiful cathedrals I've been in. We also got to see one of four copies of the MagnaCarta; on the way out, two old men were joking about how awful it must have been to have "smudged-up" while making of copy of that. I love old men humor.
The next stop on the agenda was Bath. It quickly became one of my favorite UK cities. The whole town was very orderly and all made of the same cream-colored stone, paralleling Milwaukee in a way. We checked into the White Hart, which is, coincidentally, mentioned in Jane Austen's "Persuasion," then went into the city center to elbow our way through the packed Christmas market. We warmed up with some mulled wine, which was not quite as wonderful as I was expecting, but warmed me nonetheless.
The Bath Christmas market at night was absolutely story-bookish, with Christmas carolers singing in front of the Abbey, stalls selling all sorts of crafts and baked goods jammed into the town square, lights twinkling...you get the picture. After purchasing some Christmas gifts, we went to a local pub for a group meal. The food was delicious, but surpassed by the company; we laughed and joked about all the different British quirks we had encountered, made fun of our own cultures, yet defended them when necessary, and realized how similar people really are, regardless of place of birth.
This morning was the highlight of the trip: a thermal spa session. It was the perfect boost to prepare us for the last few weeks of the semester. There were steam rooms w/ different scents, from mint to lavender to chamomile; a hot minerva bath surrounded by an indoor swimming pool; foot baths, and best of all, an outdoor hot bath on the top floor overlooking the city. As I floated around in the heated, bubbling water, the December sun glittering off the ripples and the town of Bath basking in its ancientness all around us, I was just waiting for someone to wake me from this dream. Perfection.
We finished the trip with a tour of the actual Roman baths, which included "taking the waters" (warm, coppery tasting), then a full English tea at the famous Sally Lunn'sTeahouse. As I chatted with some girls about regional accents, an eavesdropping woman on the way to the restroom corrected us on our pinky angle and scone-eating manners...I am now a professional tea-taker.
On the ride home as everyone dozed, a slideshow of my life passed before with each passing song on my iPod and I couldn't believe how good God has been to me. And I daydreamed about what will come after the next two weeks fly by - hopeful, world-changing dreams that only a 22-yr. old can entertain. How much happy is one person allowed to have? B/c I felt like I was hogging it all at that moment...here's me trying to send some back to you all.
But now it is late. And tomorrow Mom comes! Off to bed!
Since I wasn't able to make it to Switzerland, my friend Marie (aka Mahee) came with a friend to visit me in London. She was a foreign exchange student at my high school when we were juniors, and when I said good-bye 5 years ago I really didn't think I'd see her again...what a small world :)
So, this past weekend was a test of how well I really know London. I think we were able to see all the big tourist draws in two (exhausting) days: Portobello Road Market in Notting Hill, St. Paul's, Tate Modern, National Gallery, Westminster Abbey, Houses of Parliament, some parks, Natural History Museum, attempt at Harrods, Oxford Street and Primark (not once, but twice!...think Wal-Mart fashion store).
In exchange for tube/underground lessons, they helped me with my French for when I go to Paris: "J'aimerais une table pour deux, s'il voux plait." She also brought me some Swiss chocolate, and I took them to get fish-n-chips.
It was a fun weekend, and I think I passed the tour guide test, so if anyone wants to come over, I'm your girl!
This past week Pam and I actually set aside our homework for some night outings, namely Wicked on Wednesday and a stand-up comedy club on Friday. Wicked was just as wonderful as the last time I saw it in Chicago, even though this Fiyero wasn't as good. I love how common going to the theater is here; I feel like back home it might be one of those once every 5-yr. "special treats," but w/ how affordable and prevalent it is here, it's no wonder going to the theatre is the same as going out to eat.
Friday night Pam took me with her GSE program to the FmyFyg Bar for a comedy night...my abs are still a little sore. I love British humor. None of us admitted to being Americans, so we were able to sit back and laugh at the American-targetted jokes w/o being put on the spot. However, the comics' favorite source of humor was making fun of themselves. After actually experiencing how they do seem to be less streamlined and more patient w/ doing things the most difficult way possible just b/c "that's how it's always been done," we all thoroughly enjoyed the bit about how they are bound to screw up the Olympics. Also, one of the comedians highlighted how heartless he finds Brits b/c whenever we hear of a train delay due to someone falling on the tube tracks, anger seems to prevail over sympathy: "What? How dare someone throw themselves on the tracks when I have work to get to? He better have died!"
It's nice to have so many after-dark options, especially since dark has started coming before 4 pm.
My first Thanksgiving away from home was a wonderful as it could be...instead of family, I was able to share it with new friends and improv foods. Pam and I went to the American service at St. Paul's this morning - who knew there were so many of us over here? It was packed, and comforting in a way, to be surrounding by so many other people who were thinking of loved ones back home.
After class, we made some chicken, pasta, instant tators, gravy, another girl made corn, another brought cheesecake, and we found some strange room w/ beanbag chairs and a projector, where we feasted and watched "Friends." Very American. To any NF readers: so glad I loaded up on turkey and pumpkin everything this summer :)
At any rate, this seems like the opportune time to tell you all how thankful I am for all of you. I'm so blessed to have this opportunity, and even more so to know that in a few weeks, I have such wonderful family and friends to welcome me home. Thanks for your prayers and support, and I hope you all had a wonderful day w/ family. Love you!
This was supposed to be my "homework weekend," since many things are going to be due soon and I will have little time to do them. Yet Sunday night has rolled around, and I'm sure every college student can identify w/ the "shoulda, woulda, coulda, but didn't and now I have a fun Sunday night ahead of me" position I find myself in. I guess my art and developmental psych papers are "done enough," and a few other things got checked off the list, but making excuses is much easier when "I'm in London - when else can I do this?" skips into your head whenever anything exciting comes up.
So, today I went to Harrods - a ridiculously overpriced department store - with Anja and her parents. We wandered around the food stalls for a long while, admiring the beautiful tarts, pastries, chocolates, posed fish, imported cheeses, etc., before moving on to gawk at the Vera Wang dresses and Juicy Couture hand bags to pass some time (as well as escape the tourists packing being packed in like cattle).
After that we went to St. Paul's Cathedral for an afternoon mass. The little choir boys with their ruffled neck fixtures filled that place like I couldn't believe. After the service, we stayed for an organ concert. It was breathtaking being inside - the architecture, murals, detailing, huge space being filled w/ blasts from the organ pipes...one of those things you can't really describe, just have to experience.
Her parents treated us to some delicious burgers and milkshakes, and then I made my way back to finish up some homework. Alas, I got sidetracked by my newest procrastination fetish: stuffwhitepeoplelike.com. Hilarious, especially considering the other two topics in the title can be included in this list.
I realize that my blogs make it seem like all I do is go gallivanting around the UK, but be assured fellow students - I, too, have homework. Luckily not as much as I do at home, since figuring out a new system (which includes processes like submitting assignments to a register rather than in class, running around to 4 different campus locations and libraries, no office hours, very little guidance and even less feedback, etc.) is work enough.
Rather than posting a picture of this less-than-glamorous part of my life abroad, I will briefly describe today's series of events. Pam and I took the Tube to North Campus to check out some books for an art paper we have coming up. After that, we went to class across the street, which entailed a "workshop" on what "good essay writing" means, a five minute meeting w/ the professor to go over our comparison/contrast papers, and lots of waiting (accompanied by complaining about how confused we all were).
After class we hopped back on the Tube (which involved one transfer stop and one "oops, we got off at the wrong place") to City Campus and found our way to the art building, which the professor instructed us had better resources than the other 4 libraries. Then came the highlight of my day: Pam and I were both sitting between rows of books on the third floor reading about Impressionism, Romanticism, and Rococo for our papers when we hit gold. "Here there's a bunch of stuff about how Renoir was highly influenced by Fragonard!" said Pam, reading from her ten-pound book. "And I just found out that Monet had studied Turner's oil painting technique and his use of color!" said I from behind my ten-pound book. Again, the highlight of my day.
Apart from doing laundry, which is just about done. In another half an hour, my clean laundry will be strung from the clotheslines Pam and I installed to save money on not having to use the dryers. Again, I love my roommate.
London is currently hosting a huge jazz festival, with dozens of big-name performances each night. Tonight, I met up with my flight buddy (a nice gent from Macalester) to see Marcus Roberts at Wigmore Hall. Roberts - a blind pianist from Jacksonville - put on an amazing show, accompanied by Jason Marsalis and Roland Guerin.
I realize this sounds like a newspaper review, but I just had to put it up to showcase the joys of being in a city. Granted, it was no USC jazz band rocking out to '25 or 6 to 4', but it was one of the best shows I've been to in awhile...I seriously don't know how his fingers stayed on.
But that's all for tonight, folks. I'm off to prepare an art history outline!
This past weekend I escaped the storm scheduled to hit London and went on an overnight trip to Statford-upon-Avon and Warwick. Statford is where Shakespeare was born (saw the house), lived for part of his life, and died (saw the grave). We walked around the town, touring a few of the houses (distantly) related to him; they were all of Elizabethan architecture, made of huge timbers and wattle and daub. Again, another character-filled town, this one quite literally: costumed guides everywhere and actors of the Royal Shakespeare Company near-by, but under low-profile. The whole weekend I felt as though I had gone back in a time capsule, occassionally replacing me and you with thee and thou.
Saturday night we (the other 14 international students on the trip and I) ate at the local pub before settling into our seats for Shakespeare's "Twlefth Night." It was an excellent show, much easier to understand than the last one, relatively speaking of course. Afterwards, since the pub where the actors usually go was packed to bursting, a few of us wandered down to the river to keep the swans company. This led to a photo shoot (led from a girl by China and one from Taiwan...) and ended in a foam fight. Why there was a pile of foam on the sidewalk is a mystery to me, but it was a great bonding experience: I can now say I've flung foam at Austrians, Australians, a Syrian, and some Asians.
Sunday morning I walked through the early-dawn light to the 8:00 church service at Holy Trinity, where Shakespeare is buried. Again, much easier to understand than the last mass I was at, largely because it was in English this time. The girl from Taiwan also showed up, and so afterward, we strolled along the river Avon as rowers glided past and the morning joggers came to life. When we got back to our adorable bed and breakfast, my first full Enligh breakfast was waiting for me - fried eggs, toast, bacon, sausage, baked beans, and tomatoes, and tea, of course.
After a quick stop at Anne Hathaway's cottage, our minibus took us to the town of Warwick, which boasts a beautiful old castle. This was officially my first castle visit! We explored for about three hours, learning about everything from falconry to built-in lines of defense, parties thrown by rolaty to preparing for battle. The view from the top of the lookout tower was gorgeous: to the east, green grass and rolling hills dotted with grazing sheep as far as you could see, the small town of Warwick nestled to the west. One of the best weekends here so far...
Sunday was a day of rest; Frances, her friend, and I decided to go to an English mass at one of the churches nearby. 9:00 found the three of us sitting in a dimmly-lit side chapel of the church of St. Francis with no one else around except for a cute old man reading his Bible in the back. At 9:15 it became obvious that we were the only people that were going to show up. The old man came over to us and asked if we were here for the English service. In response to our excited head bobs, he glanced at his watch, sighed and said "Alright, quickly then," and went to the front to light some candles. Kira decided we should tell him that we weren't actually Catholic and wouldn't be taking communion. In response, he stopped lighting candles and told us the Italian mass would be at 10:00.
We stuck around and it was worth the wait. Even though I speak very little Italian and was lost for most of the service, it was beautiful to watch and listen to the small group's well-rehearsed Sunday ritual. The songs and readings and recitations flowed seamlessly in rapid Italian, with us rising and falling to our knees with the rest of them. It's true that there is no better way to experience a culture than by participating in their religious rituals.
After church Frances and I went to one of her favorite cafes to do homework. Over the best (and only) banana cappuchino I've ever had, she told me interesting tidbits as she studied for her Italian culture test: 95-98% of the country is Catholic, yet abortion is legal and they have one of the lowest teen pregnancy rates. We had dinner at her place and talked w/ one of her Italian roommates who warmed up some roasted chestnuts for us to taste. It was nice to experience the everday side of Italy...it was a homey day.
Monday Frances and I said our good-byes and I got on the bus back to Florence. I spent the day wandering around snapping pictures of statues, the Renaissance in the making, the leather markets, etc. I went inside the duomo and teared up. See video.
On the plane ride back we flew over Paris at night - it was beautiful, all lit up. I sat next to Luca, an interesting guy w/ dual citizenship (Italian and American) who guessed that I was from MN. We chatted about how much we loved Boulder and San Fran, and how both of us grew up on farms...except his grew grapes. To Annie's question, I would say that yes, people kind of are all the same no matter where you go.
As I got on the tube back in London, "Mind the gap" floated like familiar music to my ears. It was nice to discover how much like home London has become.
Photos: Bambini chasing birds on the campo; Gumdrops?; After lunch in the Fortezza.
Saturday morning we got up early and went wandering. Frances is officially the best Sienese tour guide: not only did she promise to fill me with a month's worth of gelato in four days (little did I know that the gelato stores close for the winter and this is the last weekend many of them will be open), she's taking an art history class so could fill me in on the important stuff, plus she's one of those people who just loves life, especially her life in Sienna.
We walked and talked and gawked for hours through the tiny town; she told me all about the separate contradas (which are like little boroughs), casa torres (towers), the fortress the Medecci family built, etc. I love Sienna - it has a small town feel, a much slower pace than London, laundry hanging from windows, and best of all, Italians. London, I've discovered, is really only half British; the rest is tourist/visitors like myself, so I never really feel like I'm completely submerged in another culture. In Italy, that was not the case, even though it has it's share of tourists, too.
Frances is not only a good tour guide, but a wonderful shopper. We went into hat stores (and tried on every type of hat imagineable), olive wood stores, candy stores (loaded up on gum drops and chocolates), leather stores (tried in gloves), an antique store (where the ancient owner gave us antique lessons in Italian), scarf stores, vintage stores (where, after trying on tons of belts, Frances talked me into buying the coolest one ever), and, of course, gelato stores. The best things about all these stores is they each had their own distinct smell, each one magnificent in it's own way.
In the afternoon, the sun came out and we basked out in the campo. Little Italian bambini chased pigeons and lovebirds strolled about. It was lovely, no other word.
That night, Frances took me to this family run restaraunt off the campo. She ordered for us: the house wine, which came w/ bread; the best tortellini of my life; a salad of fresh vegetables; and finally, chicken, which I enjoyed as I watched Frances try to debone her fish :) I came the closest to tipsy I've ever been in my life. It's true that the Italians definitely know how to eat.
Friday, I got up at 4.00 am to catch a bus to another bus to Stanstead Airport to Pisa. In Pisa I had one of my smoothest travel transitions: within 10 minutes of stepping off the plain, I was in a train to Florence. My eyes wouldn't let my body fall asleep; I was in Italy!!! This was verified by the tiny towns nestled into the hilly countryside zooming by and signs I couldn't read everywhere.
At the train station, I checked in my (Pam's) luggage and hit the streets with one simple goal: gelato! My navigational skills were put to the test like never before: not only were the streets smaller and more twisted than those in London, I knew little to none of the language and I didn't have a map (yet). However, 5 minutes later, I had a cup of gelato large enough to feed Iowa and was sitting on the steps of the San Lorenzo chapel.
I was feeling okay at this point, until I pulled out my phone to try to call Frances and realized that it wouldn't work outside of London. This is where you learn something about what kind of traveler you are: 5 hours of sleep, no concept of where you are in a totally new city, not knowing the language and unable to contact the one person you know within thousands of miles. I stifled the panic and hit the streets in search of a solution. I weaved through the leather markets (which smelled distinctly Italian), spotted a phone store which directed me to another store where, for one euro, I was able to call Frances and agree on a meeting place.
That dilemma being solved, I bought a map from a wrinkled old man who gave me a brief Italian lesson who also directed me to my final destination. My goodness, at this point it will take too many words to try to describe what it's like walking through the streets of your first Italian town: gelatarios every other shop, itty bitty streets, people on motorcycles...all the stereotypical stuff you would imagine. And then I turned a cornere and before me was, duh duh dun: THE DUOMO! In all it's splendor, just like I'd seen countless pictures in my architecture classes. It relieved me of all my traveler stress and fatigue. My jaw just droppend and my insides filled up with contentment.
Two hours later Frances found me dozing w/ my journal open on my lap on the backside of the Fountain of Neptune. Seeing her was goodness beyond words :) She took me around Florence, and just being with a familiar person, not to mention my dream city, was even better than gelato.
After a few hours in Florence, we took a train to Sienna where she lives, picked up a pizza on the way, and devoured it at her apartment. We talked for a few hours about things only kindred spirits can discuss, then passed out. It was a blissful first day.
Ahh, sorry again for the leave of absence. I feel like so much has happened in the last few days...let's see: On Halloween, we went downtown for a walking tour of all the places Jack the Ripper sliced open 5 helpless prostitutes. We (and a thousand other tourists) walked around the lamp lit streets of Whitechaple, one of the poorer areas of the city (coinicidently where the city campus for my school is), hanging on every fabled word of the cockney-accented tour guide. It was a spooky way to spend the evening.
Tuesday brought the next round of excitement. I was taking a nap while waiting for my laundry to get done, and the instant I awoke, Pam asked me if I wanted to see Jim Carrey turn on the Christmas lights. I was utterly confused, but an hour later I found myself downtown standing in the middle of Oxford Circus in the midst of a crowd to rival Times Square on New Year's Eve. Cameras, big screens, police, and people were everywhere, anxioulsy awaiting the sparklefication of the downtown.
The build-up to the level pulling included performances by the Sister Act nuns, Peter Andre, The Saturdays, Tayo Cruz (?), and Mayor Borris Johnson, plus that song from 'Love Actually' ("All I Want for Christmas") playing at every intermission. The British pop rock stars had taken the sleep haze off, and I was ready to get in the Christmas spirit...at this point Jim Carrey and the director of "A Christmas Carol" took the stage to pull the magic lever. Immediately, the streets were aglow w/ millions of lights in all colors and configurations - trees and presents, reds, whites, and greens.
I promise I will post one of Pam's videos of the ordeal later. Just know for now that it was wonderful.
Right now I am about to head to bed, because at 4 o'clock tomorrow morning I am making my way to ITALY!! I moment I've been dreaming of for, well, a very long time. Better yet, I get to see lovely Frances and have her show me the sights, streets, and where to get the best gelato in Florence and Sienna. Of course, I will let you know how it goes. For now, I'm going to brush up on my Italian and hit the hay.
The three hour bus ride to Birmingham was lovely; my bus left early, so the green green countryside was just waking up out of the morning haze as we cruised along. I made a vow to myself that I would eat nothing but Cadbury chocolate the whole day.
I love the slightly terrifying experience of arriving in a new place and having no idea where anything is. Under the direction of the information lady at the bus station, I found my way to the city center. Here I realized that the people in Birmingham love to shop. An old church split the city center into an upscale shopping mall on one side and a sea of markets on the other. I would come back to shop later; first on the agenda = Cadbury World!!
A series of helpful people led me through the bus system to the Bournville area. Imagine a 200-year-old Quaker village and you'll get a good idea of what it was like. Indeed, the Cadbury brothers wanted to locate their chocolate factory outside of the city, so they chose a spot 4 miles south of the city center to develop a live/work community, a place where their workers could stroll the parks after work or have get-togethers at the meeting house. The low-eaved brick buildings, manicured hedges, and fall colors created a rather idyllic atmosphere.
Cadbury World was, well, another world. I quickly overcame my disappointment over the absence of Cadbury eggs by the vast amounts of other chocolate products for sale in the gift shop: the original Dairy Milk, caramel, cranberry/granola, peppermint, orange, fruit & nut, white chocolate, Turkish (jelly), and dark variations of bars, buttons, and bricks. 10 pounds later (in both senses of the word), I was a happy camper.
My new chocolate collection and I then qued up for "the Cadbury experience" - a two hour self-guided walk-around explanation of the origins and production of Cadbury chocolate, jazzed-up w/ workers in Halloween costumes, cartoon-like settings, free samples, and special effects to keep the attention of the large under 7 population. Halfway through, at the phase called "Cadabra!", I started feeling the effects of my large ingestion of cocoa-butter products: the nausea set in as a roller-cart guided me past singing cocoa-beans and photographing parrots in a rather psychedelic, fun-house atmosphere.
Yet I gallantly continued on, past the packaging line, past the women decorating chocolate stilettos, onto the playground where chocolate-faced masses of children were rehabilitating from their sugar overdose as their parents recuperated on the side benches. At this point, I felt well enough to accept the last sample thrust upon me - a heavenly cup of pure liquid chocolate.
After meandering through one of the Bournville Parks, I caught a double-decker back to the city center and did some shopping. I decided against the box of Lucky Charms (priced at 7.5 pounds = $12!!), but did purchase a pair of boots. At 7, I hopped back on the bus taking me back to London and 4 hours later passed-out on my bed. A very satisfactory day.
This is how the evening conversation went (I'll preface with the internal Kallie dialogue, just b/c I know it gives Rebekah a kick in the pants... :) ).
Kallie: "They always say Europe is so easy to navigate, you just jump on a train and take off." Kallie: "You should do it then." Kallie: "Yes, you're right, I should. I think I will." Kallie (out loud, to Pamela): "I think I'm going to hop on a train and go somewhere." Pam: "Go for it." Kallie: "I think I'm going to go to Birmingham." Pam: "Sounds like a nice place." Kallie: "Yes. They have a chocolate factory there." Pam: "Mmm, chocolate." 10 minutes later...Kallie: "Well, I've got my tickets. I'm off to Birmingham tomorrow." Pam: "Woo-hoo!"
It has been a simply pleasant weekend. I just finished reading "Cold Comfort Farm," and since it put me in such happy spirits, I decided I would blog (highly recommend the book, especially if you're taking bus trips around Great Britain). Friday night Pam and I went to the Alpha Course at a church down in South Kensington, where we discussed what exactly faith is while eating free food.
Saturday, my lovely roommate and I joined the Int. Student House trip to the Isle of Wight. After a two hour bus ride, then half an hour on a ferry (I love ferries!), we reached this small island, just off the southern coast. Unfortunately, it was a rather drizzly day. However, Pam and I curled up in the back of the bus and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly nonetheless; the tour guide - who I strongly doubt had ever done this particular tour before - chatted away on the microphone about the island's red squirrel population and the garlic festivals that took place there while we gazed out the window at the picturesque English countryside.
We made a few stops, one to snap some pictures through the rain of the coast, then another at a small village inland to get some lunch. It was such a quaint village, with narrow streets, cafes catering to peckish (hungry) tourists, 17th century thatched roof cottages, and a delightful 16th century church and poetic graveyard. Set on having at least one good fish-and-chips meal, Pam and I dined at a cute little tea room which did not disappoint.
Today, we met up with Anja and her boyfriend who was in town visiting. We strolled through Petticoat Lane Market, then wandered around the business district, stopping to sip some hot chocolate on the steps of St. Paul's Cathedral. The weather was beckoning that I go for a run through the leaves, and I could not resist...I jogged to Primrose Hill where the lovebirds were cuddled up watching the sky turn dark as the city lit up. Alas, now it is time to get ready for another school week...
Every Thursday night the International Student House offers ballroom dance class. This week was the first one we've been able to go to, but it was definitely worth checking out. Not knowing what to expect, Pam, Anja, and I found our way to a small room w/ full-length windows on the second floor, where a small man was waltzing around with an imaginary partner.
After shaking out his legs, he introduced himself as Percy. Percy was all business. He, along with the other older man he had brought with him, taught us and the 15 or so other girls present the basics of cha-cha, rumba, jive, "rock-n-roll" (aka swing), and - best of all - the RED HOT SALSA.
After getting back to our room, exhausted, Pam and I decided to practice a few more times so as not to forget for next week. The above video emerged moments later. For your viewing pleasure :)
Nobody actually uses these London icons except the occasional lost tourist, the posing tourist, drunks in need of a toilet and w/o the 20 pence it costs to use public loos, and, most frequently, "gentlemen club" advertisers (see photo).
While I have your attention, I will fill you in on some of the characters I have met: one of the first days here, while I was on a 6 hour walk, a guy in Hyde park asked me for the time, then 3 hours later I saw him again on the opposite side of town...coincidence? I think so. Today I was on a run and stopped to take a stretch break at the base of a huge obelisk in Trafalgar Square - a contradictory place to pause since there is a never-ending flow of action here - when an Indian man came over to ask me what type of yoga I practice. He then handed me his yoga business card. On the bus to Brighton, I sat next to an architect from Mexico who is in London doing his PhD in psychology...coincidence? I think not. We had a very interesting talk. In my cognitive psychology class, I have sat next to an Irishman, an Italian man, and a Slovakian man. For all of you reading this blog for the sole purpose of finding out if I meet some dashing European, don't get your hopes up. All very nice men, but not kindred spirits I'm afraid. That's enough for now.
Yesterday was just a good day. I went with the International Student House Travel Club to Brighton, which was/is a seaside resort town where the wealthy would commonly go to "take the waters." First, our tour guide led us through "the Lanes," the twisty, narrow streets of the old fishing village now comprised of countless jewelry shops, bakeries, and cafes. After that, we toured the Royal Pavilion, built by Prince Henry to showboat his wealth. I enjoyed the tour more than I was expecting to: as I walked around engrossed in the audio guide glued to my ear, I did a bit of time-traveling and became a wealthy duchess feasting in the extravagant banqueting room, then a servant cleaning up after a party using stale bread to clean the (bright yellow!!) wallpaper.
I spent about two hours wandering the tourist-packed streets. There was a bustling street market, where I got side-tracked by the used book stalls and had to remind myself that I can only buy what I can take home. Sorry "Wicked," I will come back for you some other time.
The sun came out as I made my way down to the pier. People were strolling along, enjoying ice cream cones, fish and chips, and the pebbly beach. I walked out to the end of the pier to investigate the carnival, then got back on the bus to go to the Chalk Cliffs. They were beautifully white and breathtaking, daring you to jump off into the ocean and swim across the Channel. The openness of it was just what I need after being in the city.
When I got back, Anja came over to see Pam and I's room and to join us for French toast (to make up for the waffle incident.) We made her watch HSM3 w/ us. Sorry Anja :) It was a wonderful end to the day.
Generally, I adhere to the travel principle of "when in Rome...", but when all the Romans/Londoners offer for breakfast is a protein-heavy platter of greasy nosh - bacon, sausage, eggs, toast, tomatoes, mushrooms, beans, and the mandatory "chips" - one must take a different course of action. Breakfast, as many of you know, is my absolute favorite meal, especially when it consists of pancakes, waffles, muffins, french toast, cereal, and all of the other high glycemic carbs we Americans love. Pam, my all-too-adorable roommate (pictured above), shares these sentiments.
Thus, on Thursday morning, since we didn't have class due to a teacher's strike, we ventured to find ourselves some pancakes. (This was after attempting to make our own from the pancake mix we got at Tesco. Result = flatcakes w/ a rather gummy consistency.) After a mile stroll, which included at least 5 advertisements for "full English breakfast" specials, we saw a ray of hope: " Waffles, 1.40 pounds!" We dashed into the student cafe of the University of London, happily placed our orders for two waffles each, and were deflated moments later by the man taking our money and handing us four packages of plastic-wrapped waffles in return.
Admittedly, these waffles, where ever they came from, were not bad. But I guess we'll have to travel to Belgium if we really want the real deal. Dad, I will happily make you some waffles as soon as I get home.
Sorry it's been a while since the last update...you will be happy to know that I finally have homework. Yesterday my Art in London class met at the National Gallery, where our teacher took us through the highs and lows of Renaissance art, after which I had to "journal" about (aka: short essay). It was my first museum trip, though, and I was quite excited about it. I mean, I was three feet away from a 6' X 8' da Vinci "rough sketch" done in the 15th century!
Today I experienced a bout of culture shock. I will never again complain about organization problems within US universities or even American politics, for that matter. After waiting for the fifth lecturer in a row to try to figure out to how operate power point and collect attendance, the material itself - "Trends in Contemporary (UK) Society" - was disheartening to say the least. I have a tendency to stay out of political affairs, but from what I do know, I can say that I think things in the UK are even more ulcer-inducing.
After three hours of class, it took me another one and a half to get "home," b/c King's Cross tube station was suddenly closed and I got lost trying to take the detour. But, never fear: I realized my culture shock for what it was, got a chocolate bar, enjoyed my lost predicament, and finally made it back to my dorm. I even got to see a sign by a park gate that said "No unaccompanied adults. Must be with a child or dog." Love it.
Tonight, however, was absolutely delightful. Anja invited me to the Norwegian House in Notting Hill to watch "Notting Hill," one of my all-time favourite movies. After a bit of piano playing and Norwegian lessons, I joined the 20-some Norwegians living in there for some delicious hot cocoa and Norwegian sweet rolls as we dreamed of being in Julia Roberts' shoes.
In other news: tomorrow night we are going to the Novello Theatre to see "An Inspector Calls," the other day I gave some lost tourists directions, I booked tickets to Italy, and I've learned that tube etiquette allows for snogging after 10 pm.
I just got back from Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, when some other girls and I played the role of peasants, standing in the "garden" about two feet away from the actors. For 5 pounds, we got standing room only tickets for "Love's Labour's Lost," which was pretty funny when you could understand what was going on. This is the last week the Globe is open, so we were really lucky to get tickets, even if it did mean standing for three hours.
As I don't have class on Friday, my school week is officially over. The last important message my cognitive psych teacher left us with was that next week we would not actually be meeting, due to a teacher strike. Turns out London Metropolitan is in a bit of a financial squeeze due to faulty management, and to protest their proposed faculty cuts, the teachers are all going on strike next Thursday and Friday. Bizarre, I know. I was instructed to get my lecture on YouTube.
Strikes seem to be a pretty common occurrence over here. Not only are the London Met faculty on strike, but so are the garbage men (= stinky streets with heaping "rubbish" bins) and the postal workers (= delayed letters :( ). As long as the tube workers don't strike again any time soon, I should be okay.
I should mention, I had my first fish and chips experience the other day. It was satisfactory, but I think I'll try it again some place other than Chip Inn Fish...
For these first few days when I'm going through the mandatory frustrations that come with getting used to a new place, I've found it helpful to draw parallels with Harry Potter. When the room that should be right in front of me according to the map and the purple-shirt direction giving girl is no where to be found, I just imagine myself looking for the room that only appears when you really need it. Chances are it's right around the next corner! Or the staircases curiously shifted and you need to try another one.
When Pamela, my roommate, told me today that she just about got caught in the tube doors, yet the girl behind her was able to magically slip in, we decided that King's Cross station has more than one platforms 9 and 3/4...the key to not getting slammed between the merciless doors is to have faith that you won't.
It's not pickpockets grabbing at your purse, but mischievous boys hidden under invisibility cloaks :) J/k Mom and Dad, no one had tried to pick-pocket me.
Shopping for school supplies is a bit like I imagine Diagon Alley would be, where you have to go around to several stores when Super Target is nowhere to be found. It took me half an hour to get a notebook and a few folders the other day simply because the store was too small for the amount of people that were trying to cram in.
My umbrella is my magic wand: as long as I have it, it wards off the rain, but the day I forget it is sure to bring showers :)
If only I had a dining room being filled with house elves, the ability to apparate to avoid the morning and evening rush hours on the tube, and a dishelved British boy with unruly hair to give me chocolate frogs and teach me how to fly a broomstick.
Tomorrow night: a couple of us got tickets for 5 pounds to a Shakespear play at the Globe Theater.
First of all, thanks for reading my blog guys...good to know I'm not just keeping a private journal :)
Today will be the third day of classes, and so far so good. The biggest issue so far has been actually finding the class rooms; whereas the city is somewhat navigable thanks to the tube and proper signage, these pieced-together buildings either sculpted into the complicated street pattern centuries ago or else wedged back in after the war bombings are a different story. Usually I have some confidence in my way-finding abilities, but the other day I walked around for 40 minutes trying to find a "toilet" in one campus building. I followed the few signs that there were, all which just led me in circles. Toilets are just hard to find in general here; the other day while downtown, I eventually did find one, only they wanted to charge me 20 pence for using it. At this point, I have decided to stop drinking water until I am safely in my room, proximate to my own private lieu.
My developmental psychology professor is great fun. Turns out she is almost completely deaf, and can't really tell when we're talking, even though she promises us she has eyes in the back of her head and will randomly call people out for talking, most of the time if they are just turning away to sneeze or get something from their bag. She runs around like Oprah if anyone has a question to read their lips. I'm excited for that class, though.
Yesterday was the introduction to my Art in London class, which is just for study abroad students and will take us around to the different art museums. The required text was 35 pounds in terms of both money and weight. It should also be fun.
The rain has finally come. It was quite fitting for yesterday, which was my first bad day. On top of the rain, crowded tube, rude receptionist in student services, and not being able to mind my class or the bathroom, I finally did have a meeting with someone to figure out how to extend my visa to be able to work here. Bad news and long story short: I can't, which means I have to leave before Christmas and that I wasted lots of money and time and peace of mind applying for it. Luckily, I am an optimistic person and refuse to let bad moods last longer than 3 hours. So, on the bright side, I will be home to see everyone I love for Christmas!
For now, time to shower and get ready for "Trends in Contemporary Society."
Another sunny day in the cloudy city, my last real day of summer vacation (in the first week of October...). Sunday is a big market day in London, so Anja and I set off to explore the market scene. They were everywhere, and so packed! Some were vintage clothing and purses, others featured a variety of ethnic foods, others were like a street rummage sale where people would just put down blankets to get rid of stuff they no longer wanted, one had a rock band - they seemed to be collecting the most pounds, and others were just like a flea market.
After that we walked across Tower Bridge, London Bridge, Millennium Bridge, and some other bridge, so the River Thames and I are now well acquainted.
But here comes the real excitement for the day: Anja and I were slightly lost downtown, but it was okay b/c I was now trying to learn 11-20 in Norwegian and she was learning the difference between "on his own" and "by himself," when I heard "Kallie?" I looked up and there were a bunch of my architecture guy friends from Milwaukee strolling down the streets of London. They are over here in Rome and Spain studying and decided to take a vacation to London. I had no idea, and was completely floored. Crazy world.... It was so nice to see some familiar faces, though.
Tonight we went to the International Student House to watch "The Boat that Rocked." Hilarious, brilliant soundtrack. Now time to pack my bookbag.
Pictures are coming as soon as I figure out how to charge my camera.
With only a few days remaining, I feel as though I did when we (the study abroad students) took our "flight" in the London Eye: here I am, in London, and it's beautiful...yet the more I try to enjoy it, the faster it keeps spinning by. It was stunning to see the city all lit up at night. It made me realize how "homey" London has become, yet at the same time, seeing this sea of lights beneath me made me strangely homesick for the softer glow of a distant farm town.
