Chocolate Overdose

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.

Tonight: a ghostly Jack the Ripper tour!!

Jumpin' on a train...

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!"

Isle of Wight

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...

Mr. Percy's Ballroom Dance

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 :)

A Word About Telephone Booths...

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.

Brighton, then Girls Night!

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.

Waffle Quest

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.

"Notting Hill" in Notthing Hill

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.

Strikes and Shakespeare

Photo: Alyssa, Pam, and Anja at the Globe

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...

Potter Parallels

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.

School Bells

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."

Small World

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.

Portobello Road Market, Notting Hill, and Lost near the Circus

This was just an overall pleasant Saturday, despite a blustery morning. I went for a short run this morning, and much to my delight I discovered I live not more than ten minutes from a street market. The vendors were setting up their little stalls of fruit, flashy socks, cheap clothing, cat food, and lots of other good finds.

This afternoon, Pamela, Alyssa, and I went to meet Anja - who lives in Notting Hill - at the Portobello Road Market. It was jam packed with people browsing the antique/junk shops, overpriced vintage stores, quaint little bookstores like one would hope to find after watching "Notting Hill," and hoping to catch a glimpse of Hugh Grant - or at least a half-decent look alike.

After that Anja took us to her house; she lives with a bunch of other Norwegians students and short-term workers in a most lovely neighborhood...I was slightly green w/ envy when we arrived at her tree-lined lane, stately white townhouses rising up on both sides. Just a door or two down from the Arabian Embassy, she led us into a beautiful old house with a quaint little garden all decked out in autumn colours in the rear and an old-fashioned living room where photos of the Norwegian king and queen smiled down on us. Needless to say, I was very impressed. This was Notting Hill. I hope to go back often and have tea with Anja or meditate on their well-tuned piano.

From Notting Hill, we took the tube down to Oxford Circus (on the tube ride I learned how to count to ten in Norwegian). We found ourselves in the NYC-like heart of London. It was such a contradiction to see "Ripley's Believe It or Not" scrolled in florescent letters across the austere pediment of a building that - believe it - was probably older than the invention of the light bulb. People were everywhere, coming and going to the theatre, cinema, pubs, clubs, shops, tube, bus, and so forth. We then lost ourselves, along the way getting some pizza and ice cream. Now it's time I found my bed...

Out and About

Pamela and I found our class rooms today, then navigated the tube to Asda = pseudo-Wal-Mart. It was terribly exciting. We also found the British equal to Dollar General: Poundland! I feel like I'm getting much better with the tube, but here is a must see description of the Underground by one of Britian's best commedians: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Es2l4yUBY6M.

I visited the International Student House today and became a member of the Travel Club. I immediately booked a trip for Brighton 22 pounds. Can't wait!

Call me a tourist...

After a week of somewhat less-than-stimulating orientation sessions, the study abroad program treated us to a bus tour and boat cruise to get to see all the "must see's" of London. Sights for today included:
-Museum of London
-St. Paul's Cathedral
-Buckingham Palace
-Parliament
-Westminister Abbey
-Monument
-Big Ben
-Tower Bridge
-Tower of London
-Wren's Banqueting Hall
-Tate Modern
-tons of other beautifully ancient buildings in spectacular shape (they are always scrubbing the sidewalks and windows, so no wonder...)

Afterward, some friends and I (pictured above - my roommate, two friends from Norway, one from Japan, and one from Connecticut) got properly lost downtown trying to navigate the tube while finding food. We ended up at a hole in the wall diner enjoying relatively cheap food and good company.

Tomorrow's agenda: find out where our classes are, get a bathmat for our overflowing shower, and find the British equivalent to a Wal-Mart to find some clothes hangers.