Wrinkles

Waking up (too early) on another beautiful day in England. Since I've officially run out of cereal in my room, I'm going down to a coffee shop for breakfast and to camp out doing homework basically all day. But I wanted to give a quick update before I sell my soul to fourteenth-century British literature.

Yesterday was, in a nutshell, a whirlwind. The trip has been organized so that if we want to go somewhere apart from the rest of the group, it's up to us to find transportation, things to do, places to eat, etc. That's a huge step in my independence, as most of my travelling has been with my family with my dad leading the way with his internal pilot GPS. But when it was suggested that we go to Bath for the day, we were responsible to figure out the train system, buy tickets, make the right connections, and remember where the train station was.

All of which we did pretty well. Win.

We left Saturday morning around 8.30 and walked (forever) to the train station, then successfully navigated the stations and switches to downtown Bath. It's an old spa town with Roman baths where people used to vacation and "take the waters" because of its health benefits. The Romans have gone but they've left a heavy Italian influence, so I had to pinch myself and remember that all of that beautiful architecture, gelato, and legit pizza was in the middle of England - we were nowhere near Italia.

It was about 11.30 when we got there, and the general agreement was that we search out FOOD. Because we are cheap (and very American), we checked out a pizza place and split two pizzas and some of the best garlic bread I've ever had. From there we hiked up to the Jane Austen museum. Darling Jane spent some time there in her youth, loved it, and actually set a few of her novels there (don't ask me to say which one because I haven't read any, I was with a lot of Austen fans and they were all geeking out over it).

Let me refer to a much older entry for a moment. I love literature. Like, LOVE IT. I will forego dinner if it means spending money on another book. And I'm alright with romances - I enjoy a good chick flick every now and then, and I've spent way too much of my lifetime watching "Say Yes to the Dress" and pinning wedding ideas on my Pinterest. But I despise....that doesn't even cover it: I abhor, detest, loathe, abominate, scorn Jane Austen's writing. I had to read Pride and Prejudice for a class, and literally it was the longest and most boring endeavor of my life. I don't have time to read about how Lady So-and-so and Mrs. So-and-so walked from this room into that one, then spent the next eighty pages in this room talking about men and money. I understand that this is a huge mark against my womanhood that I prefer Dickens to Austen, but I really don't get the warm fuzzy feeling that a lot of my friends have for Jane. I'm sure there's something to be admired in her back story, that she overcome horrible gender oppression to become this popular writer (yeah, after she died), that she's an inspiration to the hopeless romantic in all (most) of us. But I have completely missed the boat. I'll take a good comedy (Wonder Boys), adventure (Captains Courageous), romance (I appreciate Anna Karenina because it doesn't have a happy ending, it's more realistic - affairs tear families apart, that's just how it works). But I hate that description-driven, long-winded, have-some-tea-in-the-parlor-for-40-a-year nonsense.

All that to say, the museum was really cool, and we got to dress up in period clothing at the end of it. Because there should never be a point when anyone says, "I'm too old to dress up in a ridiculous costume."

This whole trip I've been dying for a milkshake (milkshakes and Reuben sandwiches are my go-to...oddly enough), so we hiked back down to the main part of Bath and drank milkshakes (actually a "gelatashake" make with gelato. Mine was tiramisu. And it made my heart sing) across from this big open square in front of a cathedral, where street musicians were performing. There was one lady singing opera a capella. To hear her voice reverberating off the walls of this massive cathedral, and to see a square full of tourists and locals sitting and listening to her...it was incredible, and I seriously could have sat there all day.

Except everyone else said "let's go look at this other Austen-related thing" and off we went again to this huge circle of apartments. Someone in a Jane Austen book ran up and down this road looking for her love, so of course we had to go see it. (My friend asked me, "So...we're going to look at a road?" For the sake of stinkin' Jane, of course we are!!) The circle was actually awesome, there was this massive grassy area in the center with trees literally as big around as a tractor-trailer. My friend and I sat looking out over this huge lawn while everybody else walked around the circle, then we sat for a while longer while half of them went to a fashion museum and the rest of us said, "No, that's alright, I'd rather not spend my money on seeing something else I hate."

.....Maybe that was just me but I may speak for some of their thoughts.

It was going on 5pm so we decided to wish Bath farewell and head back to Cheltenham. We all survived another trip on the trains and a hike back to the dorm. I think we're all pretty much unscathed, except I'm sporting a beautiful sunburn on my chest with a white stripe where my purse strap sat all day. (Ma, it doesn't hurt, it just looks bad.)

I have an exam to take tomorrow so the rest of the day will be spent reading and writing in preparation for that. Happy Sunday to my readers, love to my family, and hopefully I'll talk to some of you soon!

Bronchitis

DISCLAIMER: I don't actually have bronchitis - it just seemed to be the word of the day today.

Can you say "whirlwind." It was actually kinda nice after a few days of downtime, classes, and walking around. This morning at 10.30 we were told to meet outside our dorm and board a bus, which would take us the hour-and-a-half to Stratford-upon-Avon.

A.K.A. Bill Shakespeare's stomping grounds.

We stopped at Anne Hathaway's famous thatch-roofed cottage. No, not that Anne Hathaway, not the one that "dreamed a dream." This was also the name of Shakespeare's first wife, and her family home still stands, mostly unchanged from its original construction (minus the room additions and huge garden put in front of it).

A brief note about the British museum association: In America, most historical sites are supplemented by tacky photo ops, those machines that squish pennies for you, and gift shops. Mind you, there are a ton of gift shops here as well, but someone in charge of the British historical locations believes that the best way to add a little flair to an old dusty house or monument is to throw a garden in front of it. "Here's William Shakespeare's birthplace- Oh, and have you noticed the sprawling gardens?"

I digress.

We were cautioned not to eat a heavy lunch since we had early dinner plans in downtown Stratford, so after eating our meager granola bars and sandwiches (garnished with a ridiculously-spicy mustard - people who talk about bland English fare have apparently never had their sinuses evacuated by the mustard), we got back on the bus and drove a little farther to the Holy Trinity Church, where William Shakespeare and Anne Hathaway are buried.

Let me ramble for a second. If you've never read Ken Follet's Pillars of the Earth or Worlds Without End, or never seen the TV drama versions, you need to. Pillars of the Earth - the first in the series but the one I watched most recently - focuses on the building of a cathedral in a small English village. It covers all areas of life during the 1100s: the clergy, royalty, merchants, builders, politics - seriously, everything. Raw? Yes. Intense? Most definitely. But if you can get past all that - or even if you want to avoid the story altogether - watch the parts where they're building the cathedrals, or talking about the logistics involved. At one point, the master builder explains his beliefs to the priest he's building for:

A cathedral is God's anteroom. It's halfway to heaven.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I watched the series in awe of the masons, the men who dedicated their very existence to creating these symphonies of stone. There was no promise of them every being finished: though it was prevented by raids and disease and poverty and scant employment, the Kingsbridge cathedral ended up taking thirty or forty years to build. But they worked anyway. They spent the whole of their days, their years, sometimes their lives constructing these monuments, many of which remain to this day.

 

As I stood in the chancel of the Holy Trinity Church, I looked at the very stones that held the walls together, the statues that looked as if they would get up and speak to you, the details on the ceiling tiles that were each handcrafted and unique. I couldn't help but think that this - this dedication to building a cathedral you may never see finished for a God that you've never seen in person and, in many cases, may not have seen His Hand at work - the building of these cathedrals was and is the highest form of worship and reverence in human history.

 

Seriously gave me chills to stand in there. Again, if you haven't interacted with Pillars in some way, do it - time well-spent.

 

After we left the Church, we were able to spend a few hours doing basically whatever we wanted around Stratford. Most of our group spread out to find shops, food, and souvenirs; but my friend and I found ourselves standing in front of the birthplace (like, original building) of William Shakespeare. After a little prodding regarding finances, we both went in, and it was considered an afternoon well-spent. When we exited the house (once again, into the garden), there were three workers dressed in period costumes, and we sat for half an hour watching them perform selections from Shakespeare's works.

 

By request.

 

Like, "Do you know Twelfth Night, why yes I do, let me start here."

 

As I said: an afternoon well-spent.

 

At 430 we were corralled for our first English high tea, which was fantastic. Sandwiches (smoked salmon is interested, yet glorious), scones with clotted cream and jam (I was told that I ate it the "right way" because I put on the cream after I put on the jam - I felt so legit), and little slices of what looked like raisin bread but were actually cakes. And, of course, tea.

 

It was a good thing we were warned not to eat a lot beforehand. It doesn't sound like a lot, but we were all stuffed afterwards.

 

The evening ended with a performance of "Hamlet" at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre Company. I swear, I've seen the most (and best) theatrical performances of my life in about a week - that doesn't normally happen but I'm so glad it's happening now! It was set in maybe the 1960s or 1970s, and it was seriously so well-done. I can't even begin to describe it, this entry would go on longer than it already is.

 

So here I am back at the room, really tired but like a "today was full and awesome" tired. Tomorrow is a homework day, because on Saturday we're heading to Bath to "take the waters." (Actually we were warned not to take the waters there anymore, so we're just going to look at Jane Austen stuff inside. Huzzah Jane.) A pip-pip-cheerio to all you back in the States, much love to my family, and hopefully I'll be able to post more when something else awesome happens. : )





 

Attempt

I don't typically write poetry. I tried it a while ago, but it all sounded stupid, so I gave it up. But this hit me a little while ago, since I've been thinking about this a lot. There's no England update today, so I thought I'd post this instead.

Oh, by the way, there's no title to it. I've found that picking a title for a piece is twice as hard as actually writing the thing.

You're doing it again.
That thing that I always hate -
When you creep into my head
And take up all the space I could be using for something else,
Something more productive,
Something less silly.

Sometimes it's the laugh I haven't heard,
Sometimes it's the smile I haven't seen,
Sometimes it's the way your fingers will link with mine.
But whatever it is -
Whenever it is -
It still unearths the same question:
Who are you?

I wonder if I've met you.
I may have known you forever and not known who you were -
What you would mean.
Or maybe you're still waiting,
Trapped in the page of the story that I haven't read yet.
In my head I imagine
What I will say when I realize
I've finally met you as you.
Probably something stupid - I usually do.

But probably I will just hold your hand,
Put my head against your shoulder.
It will be such a comfort to know you've found me.
But for now, I still sit and wonder,
Comparing everything to that thing a long time ago.
Don't judge me for that:
It seemed great at the time.

Will you watch happy movies and not find it weird when they make me cry?

Will you admit that the way I load the dishwasher is better?

Will you cry when our kids are born
And appease my late-night cravings for sandwiches?

What will make you happy?
What will make you sad?
What will make me rub your back and tell you that tomorrow is another chance?
Will you let me say that I'm terrified
Of the future - it has so many grottos and hollows
For tragedy and pain to hide.

Will you let me give up the biggest brownie,
The last slice of pizza,
The comfiest pillow in the house,
The first place in a line -
Just because I'm tickled to death
To have someone to share all that with?

Will you keep arguing with me even when I shut up?
That's the only way that we'll keep going, you know.

My world is full of mysteries right now.
I don't pretend to have everything figured out
And I won't act like it doesn't scare me.
But as far as you're concerned,
Know that I think about you a lot.
And I can't wait to meet you.

Whoever you are.

Nix the Days

I don't actually know if I should be writing, as I'm not exactly coherent. I'm currently sitting on top of my desk listening to Billy Connolly, and I'm seriously more tired than I have any right to be - today was the lightest day we've had so far. I've also lost count of what day we're on, and I don't feel like going back over and fixing the entries that I've titled wrong (...ly). So we're ditching the day numbers, combining two days, hopefully catching up on writing, and halting my lazy streak.

....Hopefully.

Friday was another orientation day, and after our two-hour session we were allowed to walk back to the dorm through the town of Cheltenham. First off, it was a BEAUTIFUL day: the sun was shining pretty enthusiastically for the first time since we'd arrived, and it was around 70 degrees.

PAUSE: We were taught to Celsius to Fahrenheit ratio. If you want to convert C to F, you take the C and divide it by 5, then multiply that number by 9 and add 32. Example: 15*C divided by 5 is 3, times 9 is 27, plus 32 is 59*F. Just in case you were curious.

Anyway.

The other bonus of Friday was that it was the once-every-fortnight (fourteen days - another English thing we've picked up) open farmers market in the middle of the promenade. There was one point when we were approaching a fruit stand and I could smell the fresh fruit before I saw what it was. HOLY COW.

The rest of Friday was spent just poking around Cheltenham: taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi in Starbucks, getting used to looking the opposite direction than the American way when we cross the street, getting sausage and mash for lunch for less than a pound, checking out the incredible three-story bookstore, picking up enough food to feed six people seven meals for less than 20 pounds. In theory we would work on homework last night to give us some time to travel and explore during the weekend, but I wound up Skyping my family and my roommate for almost four hours. Which was still pretty grand. : )

We were instructed by our professor to get out of the dorm and see things this weekend, but we started freaking out about how much homework we're facing down and how we couldn't plan a trip anymore in only a few hours to be ready to leave by this morning. So three of us chose the best of both worlds and took homework into town, starting at a small coffee shop for an English breakfast. I got black coffee, a scone, and clotted cream and jam.

It literally made me want to sing. I have never tasted anything like the cream before, and it was fantastic - combine the texture of melted cheese and whipped spread (a.k.a. fake butter), and that was the consistency of this thick cream. And the coffee was so rich on its own without any kind of added flavoring. It was, I venture to say, a beautiful breakfast.

In the middle of High Street (a major shopping street downtown), there's this awkward triangle area with a fountain next to a Starbucks. This was decided to be our study hub, and we camped out there for a few hours to do homework, get a little sunshine, watch the people, and hack the Starbucks' free internet. We went back to the dorm after a little while to do laundry and presumably get more homework done (guess how that worked out), then grabbed some really interesting smoothies for dinner. Mine had oatmeal, a banana, honey, and cinnamon. Interesting texture, but surprisingly filling and wonderful.

At 6.15 we headed out again, this time heading for one of the coolest theatres I've ever been in for its closing performance of "Beauty and the Beast." I've seen it twice before in small local theatres, and another girl with me had seen it on Broadway. But we all agreed that it was well worth the 15 pounds for nose-bleed seats. My gauge is tears: if I cry during a show, whether it be "oh my word, that's so sad" tears or "oh my word, that's so awesome" tears, it's done its job.

I cried a couple times. Mission accomplished.

When we were leaving, I realized that this was one of those rare unplanned moments that will stand out as a highlight of the trip. This morning we didn't even know that the show was being performed - we just noticed it as we were walking past the theatre after breakfast. And we debated whether or not we wanted to pay 15 pounds for a seat of a show that could be hit or miss, judging how some community theatres go. But we figured that we didn't have anything else to do for the rest of the day, it was relatively cheap for a ticket, and it was less than we were told it would be. And I realized also that if we had super-quick whipped a trip together, been gone this morning, and probably straggled back later all frustrated that we didn't plan far enough ahead of time, we completely would have missed it! Tonight was the closing performance - we wouldn't have had another opportunity to see it! It was so worth it: I would definitely count it as a highlight of the trip so far!

Tomorrow is another sit-around-and-maybe-think-up-something-to-do-but-probably-sit-around-and-do-homework day. I'm looking forward to my first official day to sleep in, and if it's open I might head downtown to a music shop where I saw a "sheet music for one pound" sign.

Because there's no such thing as too much sheet music. : )

Day 5 - Catching Up (Cheltenham Edition)

A free day in Cheltenham, so I'll try to post a few different entries about the past few days.

On Thursday we were supposed to leave the hostel at noon exactly. Some of our group decided to go fit in a little bit of sight-seeing before we left, but the rest of us took the opportunity to sleep in and take our time getting ready for the day. Around 10.30 a few of us went downstairs to grab breakfast, only to discover that the hostel wanted us out of our rooms by 11. With only four of the ten inhabitants of our room in the hostel (everybody else had gone out, thinking they had that extra hour to pack and clean up), we ran back upstairs and did a whirlwind through the room, dragging luggage down the four flights of tiny little stairs, hauling sheets and towels off beds to be taken downstairs, grabbing the other people's things and taking them loose downstairs to be distributed later.

At exactly 11, we were out and sitting in the lobby playing cards.

An hour later, our bus arrived, and we rode the two-and-a-half hours to Cheltenham.

A word about the English countryside, because we saw a lot of it. A lot of the time, it's gray - yesterday was the first day that it didn't rain. But it's not a nasty, dreary, Ohio gray. The rain makes the flowers incredible - they're so full and pretty. The grass and trees are this lush green, and the sprawling fields of color are such a huge part of the landscape that it really doesn't make you depressed that it's cloudy or rainy.

 

When we arrived in Cheltenham, we dumped our stuff in our room and had a little orientation with our English contacts who have been so helpful in getting us settled, making sure we're in the right place, and teaching us a little about English customs and culture. They gave us a little while to chill, then took us to a specifically-English dinner, as was requested by one of our profs. It was at a little place called the Carvery, and basically it's just a buffet with meat, vegetables, and Yorkshire pudding.

 

Let me just say that it was the first time on the trip that we were full. : )

 

Wednesday night was the first chance I got to Skype my family, which was fantastic. I keep thinking about my sister through all of this - it's the first time in a long time that I've travelled without her, and I wish she could see all of it, she would absolutely love it. But I got to tell her all about what was going on, she caught me up on everything happening at home, and that was so good to do. : )



Day 4 - Catching Up (London Edition)

Yes. I know. My daily blog has been a "I'm gonna write once and leave everybody hanging" thing. I'm so sorry. Mea culpa.

BUT.

I've had very good reason to not write as we've been running for the past two days, and this is the first chance I've really had to chill. Since Tuesday we've seen a bit, travelled a little, and walked a ton. But for now, the London highlights. (I'm splitting up the past few days into two entries because it could get a bit lengthy.)

Wednesday was by far the coolest day I've had on the trip. Maybe, actually, ever. We left our hostel around 10, bought day passes for the Tube (which, by the way, we successfully maneuvered. #win), and made our way down to the Thames to the famous GLOBE THEATRE!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, I realize that it's not the same one that Shakespeare worked with - that one burned down quite some time ago. But nonetheless....still awesome. The whole group saw "A Midsummer Night's Dream" in the afternoon, and it was INCREDIBLE. I'd never read or seen in before, so to see it live on the stage of the Globe was seriously the chance of a lifetime.

For those of you who have never seen the interior of the Globe, photos or otherwise, it's a circular theatre with seats all around the outside and a huge open area in the middle (which has no roof...we were thankful to have seats for the afternoon show as it poured down rain on the poor souls in the middle). Way back when, the middle- and upper-class would have sat in the three levels of seats, and the poor people would have paid their penny to stand in the center. Near the stage is a prime place to stand as you can lean against it - standing for three hours on a hard ground is a little taxing on the lower back - but we were warned by our tour guide that this opportune place comes with a price: the nearer you are to the stage, the more you're fair game for the actors. Example: in the evening we stood through "The Tempest," and at one point a character says something about eating his dinner. The actor grabbed a cup of beer from one of the nearby audience members, drank some of it, spat it out over the audience, and threw the cup of beer along with it. Another watcher got red paint all over his clothes when the same actor ran into him on his way of the theatre. So we stayed well near the middle and away from the stairs leading from the stage. A little sore, but at least not wet.

 

We grabbed a cheap pizza dinner between shows-

STOP. I know what you're thinking: "you go all the way to England and eat pizza." But before you scoff at our unwillingness to try new things, let me explain. In England (maybe not all England, but at this place at least), unless you explicitly ask for cheese on your pizza, you won't get any. We ordered one pizza with cheese (three different types, and none of this bagged mozzarella pish. Think creamy, fresh, wonderful cheese slathered on a crust) and another with four toppings in four different sections, and the only piece on that one that had cheese was the one that advertised having cheese. The others were just straight-up toppings on sauce and crust.

Wonky.

After dinner we booked it back over to the Globe for "The Tempest," which was pretty good but I didn't like it as much as the first show. To be honest (and probably to the chagrin of my English teachers) I didn't really understand most of the plot - I got the broad gist, but the details were a little fuzzy. But the costumes and effects were incredible, especially considering the simple set-up of the theatre. And one of my professors explained later that this play was Shakespeare's "farewell" to the stage somewhat; it was the last play that he wrote solo. Once we understood that, the final speech of the main character, the magician Prospero, became so much more impressive: Shakespeare was essentially giving up his art because he realized the power of his works over the common people, and he wondered if perhaps he had more power (potentially more dangerous power) than he should have. So cool, and a little chilling to think back about it.

It was about 10.30 by the time we finally got out of the Globe, and we successfully found our way back to the hostel via the Tube. We were all so exhausted that we went straight to bed, since we had another long day the next day, when we would leave London and head to Cheltenham.

And this, dear friends, is where I pause in this entry and go grab dinner. The next entry will pick up on our whirlwind exit of the hostel and our journey to the university in Cheltenham. Stay tuned - it's gonna be good. : )

Day 1 - Under the Union Jack

A lull. For the first time in twenty-four hours (I think....I can't remember anymore), I'm sitting. Not with somewhere else to go, not with something to worry about. Just sitting. In my pajamas. Nice and clean. On a hostel bed.

In London.

Today and yesterday have been on the longest combined days I've spent in a very long time. Monday morning we left our house around 10.30 to get to airport two-and-a-half hours before my departure. After a frantic "we might not make the early flight but we might if we run," we made it onto the early flight from Chicago to London. Nights on a plane being what they are, I am currently running on about two full hours of sleep. But that made no difference when we were dumped off at our hostel this morning around 10 and told to go explore.



So with no more guidance or direction than that....we went exploring.

You could really look at our day in two ways. First, you can argue that it was a really crappy first day. And you'd be perfectly justified. For one thing, the weather was ready to beat us when we arrived at the hostel this morning. It started raining around eleven and had just stopped when we got back around four this afternoon. This wasn't too promising when we yanked out our maps time and time again, only to have them completely fall apart under the freezing-cold rain. And though London doesn't seem that big, it can be fairly large when you walk past the same spot four times saying, "I'm sure this is the right way." By the time we got back to the hostel, we were soaking wet, frustrated, sore, exhausted, hungry, and wondering whose bright idea it was to turn us loose with a little map and a "have fun."

But then....

We sat on a ledge under an awning and had lunch across from Big Ben - we even got to hear him chime! We saw the Tate Gallery, Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, the House of Parliament, the London Eye, that gate that only the Queen can drive through, and the AWESOME fountain outside Buckingham Palace. We got seriously, SERIOUSLY lost (not "we were in danger and fighting off hoodlums" lost - just a "this is our first time in this city and we have no idea where the heck we are" lost), and through know-how, some very cute gentlemen who just happened to be around every time we decided to ask for directions (human. yes. I am human), and some inner Pocahontas blood that one of us possesses, we made it back to our hostel.

And get this: we walked. We didn't take the Tube, we didn't take a taxi (mostly because we didn't know how to call one and neither one of us wanted to look like an idiot by trying), and we didn't take a bus. We walked the whole thing.

And the only money we spent was on lunch.

WIN.

Tonight will be spent nursing blisters (not me) and catching up on sleep (that'd be me). In the morning we're heading to the GLOBE THEATRE!!!!!!!! to see "The Tempest" and "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Standing up. Potentially in the rain. Rockin' it Elizabethan style.

Because really: if you're gonna come all the way to London, why wouldn't you be epic? :)

I might not have a chance to write tomorrow - the internet at the hostel costs a pound for 24 hours, and it'll be free once we hit Cheltenham on Thursday. But we're all safe, happy, healthy, and excited for the days ahead! Much love to my family - we'll talk soon :)