Of Going There and Coming Back Again

Well, now that I've been home for a week, I think it's time to fill you all in on my travels to Rome, Paris, London and home!

My friend Tom arrived on Tuesday the 22nd, and the next day we set off for Rome. It was absolutely miserable hauling two and a half months worth of my life all the way up St. Aldates to High Street and down to Queen's Lane, even with his help, but we managed it and took the bus to the airport. We were on separate flights (since Tom booked earlier and managed to get a cheaper-but-indirect flight on Swiss Air that stopped in Zurich,) so I waited around at Heathrow for a few hours longer than I really needed to and went on my way!

I actually ended up in Rome more than three hours before Tom did, because his flight was delayed and he missed his connection in Zurich. Thus, I set out alone to find our hostel, which involved a train ride and short walk. I arrived before it got fully dark and settled in. The hostel was nice: it had decently comfortable beds, cheap wifi, and a bar area where you could purchase drinks and watch the World Cup, if so desired. Tom had a few more adventures on the way, but he arrived safe and sound sometime during the night and we met up at breakfast the next morning to explore.

We had two full days in Rome. The first was spent on the Colosseum, lunch, the Roman Forum and the Spanish Steps.  The Colosseum is quite large, and in the middle of the modern city.  There's a busy road that surrounds it, with cafes and shops on the other side of six or so lanes of traffic.  The Colosseum, while really impressive in an intellectual sense, didn't touch me on a more emotional level; it mostly just felt big and hot and touristy, and I didn't get much sense of its history.  The Roman Forum was much more emotionally expressive.  There are these beautiful pines that have incredibly tall trunks and only branch out at the top, and just the prevalence of the ruins with the maintained gardens and vistas was really lovely.  My main impression of the Spanish Steps is that there were a lot of them, and that it is delightful to eat gelato and watch the police chase off the counterfeit purse vendors.

The second was devoted to Vatican City, including St. Peter's basilica and the Sistine chapel, accessed via the Vatican Museum.  Tom and I opted to climb all 551 steps of the basilica to reach the cupola, rather than pay two euro extra and cut out 221 of them.  By the time we reached the top, we were absolutely exhausted, but the view of the city was lovely, and the light breeze refreshing.  This wore us out, and we only had energy to go on the the museum and attached Sistine chapel before returning to the hostel.  Tom went on that evening to do a bit more exploring, but as I had the following morning to explore as well, I stayed behind and watched Italy's final world cup game in the bar of the hostel with a Canadian and some Australians I'd met the night before.

In the morning, Tom and I parted ways, and I went on to explore the Pantheon and a few of Rome's famous fountains.  It was a leisurely sort of day; my flight for Paris didn't leave until around 6, so I had plenty of time to explore before making my way back to the airport.  The Fountain of the Four Rivers was particularly impressive, and I had a nice lunch right in front of the Pantheon.  I actually managed to have a nice, abridged sort of conversation with a pleasant older Italian lady on the train to the airport; she spoke no English, and I the most minimal Italian, but we made ourselves understood well enough with snippets of language, pantomime and facial expressions.  All the Rome pictures can be found here.

Paris was next.  Rather than staying in a hostel, I decided to stay in a real hotel for added security and privacy while I traveled alone in a country where I speak the language only falteringly.  The hotel was cheap and the room small, but it was clean and everything worked like it was supposed to, internet and television included, which gave it a special place in my heart.  It was a good 12 kilometers outside of city center, which made for a lovely quiet area, but meant that getting there from the airport involved a shuttle, two trains and a half mile walk.  The train into central Paris was at least half an hour to the nearest sites.  I only had one full day in Paris after arriving at around 8 in the evening, so I spent the day seeing as much as I could.  I did the Eiffel Tower first, and went up to the second deck, the top being closed for "congestion."  It was probably not worth the hour-long wait in line, but it's nice to say that I did it, and the view of the city was lovely. After, I saw Notre Dame, where there are the most charming birds living in the hedges which will perch on fingers to eat bread out of your hand, and the outside of the Louvre, which I didn't go into because I knew I didn't have time to do it right.  Rather than speed through, see the Mona Lisa and leave, I decided to leave the whole thing for another, better time.  Soaking one's feet in the fountains outside the glass pyramids, however, is absolutely delightful.  Last, I saw the Arc de Triomphe, and returned to my hotel tired but feeling as though I'd made the most of my one day in Paris.  I took plenty of pictures which will be linked below.

I had a little extra time in the morning again before I had to fly to London, so I spent a few hours at the fountains by the Louvre and had lunch in a famous cafe, Angelina's.  It's famous for its hot chocolate, which I did try and enjoy, but the star of the show was the quiche Lorraine, which was indisputably the best I'd ever eaten.  Angelina's was also conveniently right next to Galignani's, the first English-language bookstore in Paris, where I picked up some light reading to keep me company at lunch.  After that it was off to London.

The hostel in London was very comfortable.  Massive, it had over 800 beds (mostly in 8-or-10 bed mixed dorms, like the one I stayed in.)  It had a travel shop where you could buy towels, padlocks and other necessities, as well as a restaurant, snack bar, bar and numerous relaxation rooms.  It was also decorated in outlandish neon colors, and was all-in-all a funky, fun place to stay.  I again only had one day in London, though, and while I'd seen most of what I was interested in on my day trip during term, I wanted to make the most of my last full day outside the US.  As such, I made my way to the Tower of London on the Underground, and spent the majority of my day there.

The Tower of London is a large enclosed area almost like a city within London.  The crown jewels are housed there, which I saw (sorry, no pictures allowed and the guards seemed serious,) as well as different exhibitions on the Tower throughout history.  It was a really fascinating experience, and I enjoyed wandering around and having lunch in the cool green areas.  My favorite exhibition was called "Fit for a King," and showed armor from the history of the English kings.  At the end of my tour, something even more exciting happened.  Finding myself alone in the artillery room by sheer chance, I struck up a conversation with one of the guards/docents and chatted.  I moved on after our conversation ended, but I few minutes later he came and found me in the gift shop.  Taking me aside, he took me to a roped-off area where he pointed out some original stone masonry and woodwork, and actually gave me a tiny chip of stone from the original blocks of the Tower, dating something around 1077.  It was fascinating, and I was so pleased to learn more, not to mention take such a fantastic souvenir home with me.  I didn't manage to get a picture of the guard or learn his name, but he was very nice and made my trip even better.

In the evening, I went to the theater.  I saw Wicked at the Apollo Victoria, where I got front-row tickets for £25.  Front row tickets aren't usually considered desirable, but I had the time of my life and really enjoyed the whole show.  It was a fantastic way to end my time in London, and the show was incredible; I'd read the book, but seeing it onstage is a completely different experience, and I'm glad I got to do so.  In retrospect, I would have expected it to feel lonely going to a show by myself, but it didn't at all, and I'm very glad.  Much of this trip depended on me being able to do things by myself and enjoy them without sharing, and I really think I was able to do that.  I can't imagine how dull it would have been if I'd spent the entire time wishing I had companions.  That isn't to say that I wasn't ready to come home and have some friendship by the end; I just managed to enjoy myself very fully on my own as well.  All the photos from Paris and London can be found here. 

My next day and the flight home were uneventful.  I had no problems at any point, a perfect seat companion who both knew when to chat and when to shut up, and a varied selection of movies to keep me entertained while I crossed an ocean.  My mom and grandparents met me at the airport, and thus concluded a nearly three-month adventure in Oxford and surrounding bits of Europe.

This trip has been worth a great deal.  Oxford is an incredible place with a very different style of both learning and living, and I think I've gained a lot from my experiences there.  I managed to guide myself and a friend to Rome, explore Paris and London on my own, and cross international borders four times in a week without getting arrested even once.  While I think I'll always cherish what I did there, it also reawakened my excitement for things at home that I'd grown so accustomed to as to find boring.  I'm thrilled to start my senior year at William and Mary in about seven weeks, and it's nice to be under the wide, wispy blue American sky.

Thank you for following me through all of it.  It was a comfort and a source of perspective to realize that people at home were watching, waiting and rooting for me.  This will be the last post in this blog, but I'm sure that I'll have other adventures, and if any of them seem worthy of recording, you will all be the first to know.  Thank you again, and it's good to be home.

Of Birthdays

Well, dear readers, I am 21 years old, which means I can go home in a month and legally indulge in everything I'm already legally allowed to do here.  Huzzah?  I find it hard to believe that that baby in this picture ever actually existed, but I suppose both grandmothers would beg to differ.

Seriously, though, my birthday was lovely.  Sunday night the choir sang me happy birthday in full harmony at Formal Hall, and in my birthday itself TJ and my fellow William & Mary'ers surprised me at lunch in hall with a bottle of champagne, balloons and sweets.  I should have taken a picture, but honestly I was so surprised I completely forgot.  It was absolutely charming, and made me feel quite loved indeed.  Monday night TJ and I went out to our favorite restaurant in Oxford, the Riviera, which is run by a Lebanese family and makes the most excellent food if you order the right things.  They also have cheap takeout deals for lunch and are right across the street from my dorm, so I've gotten to know them quite well.

Wednesday TJ went home.  The process was quite smooth, and we got him there in plenty of time and with more than enough for me to get back to Oxford for my tutorial later in the day.  It's sad to see him go, but it was a fantastic visit, and I'm glad he came.  If anything, I think being able to share Oxford with him enhanced the trip for me, because I got to play the role of tour guide for once, and show him all my favorite things.

I also had my second tutorial with David Wednesday, and that went very well.  He's not scary at all, really, and our conversations are very interesting, particularly because I know nothing whatsoever about drama, so I'm almost starting from square one.  He's very patient, though, and I feel like I've learned a lot already.

Thursday I received my birthday present from home!  It was the most ridiculous little package full of strange and wonderful things, and it made me happy.  Inside were three birthday cards, scrunchies, hair elastics, hair claws, Obama magnets, little pins with birdies on them, a set of Burt's Bees beauty supplies, and some lovely emerald earrings.  Emerald is my birth stone, and I don't have any, so I really like those especially.  Thank you, Mom, and thank you Nana for mailing it!  I actually like that it came a bit late, let me stretch out my birthday over a week instead of just one day.

Friday I finished up the first of my three tutorials, Victorian literature focusing on the detective novel.  For that tutorial, I read: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte, Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins, Bleak House by Charles Dickens, The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins, Lady Audley's Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon, The Sign of Four and The Hound of the Baskervilles, both by Arthur Conan Doyle.  That's rather a lot of reading for six weeks worth of work, and I'm proud of myself.  I'll miss my meetings with Helena, though. I think she's my favorite.

Lesbian literature is progressing apace as well.  Thus far our works there have been "Christabel" by Coleridge, Carmilla by Sheridan LeFanu, The Well of Loneliness by Radcliffe Hall, and The Rainbow by DH Lawrence.  We have two more weeks, focusing on The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas by Gertrude Stein and Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson.  David and I have only done Twelfth Night, The Merchant of Venice and Love's Labour's Lost thus far, but we'll have three more plays before the end.  We're planning on finishing up a week early, though, by doing a two-hour tutorial in 8th week rather than progressing through 9th.  That'll give him a chance to go on vacation earlier, and me a chance to travel more before I go home.

Speaking of traveling, I'm starting to solidify my plans for the end of term.  I plan on meeting up with two friends from William & Mary who are studying in Bath and London respectively.  Starting on the 23rd, we'll spend three nights in Rome together.  After that, though, I'm on my own, so I plan on spending two nights in Paris followed by two in London before I fly home.  Details are still being ironed out, but it seems like quite a ride.

Today I saw a one-man-and-dog band.  He was playing the guitar and the harmonica, singing, and beating a drum with his foot while his dog howled in time.  I didn't have my camera, which is something I think I'll regret for quite a while.   I gave him all the change I had.


That's all, I believe; to conclude, some more Things I've Noticed:

• British people love to congregate in doorways.  If they are in any open space that has an archway, door or passage, they will immediately flow toward it as if magnetically drawn and then block it as fully as they possibly can.  There are rarely exceptions.

• Apparently it's baby waterfowl season.  I saw 10 ducklings today of two different species.
•  Most people are really bad at punting (propelling yourself down a river in a flat boat with a long pole.)  There's usually a good deal of screaming involved.

Of Arrival, and the First Few Days

I had been waiting for my official college internet to be set up before posting an entry, but since it seems that IT guys are the same everywhere, (pasty, running out of the basement, and largely unhelpful,) that may be another day or so, and I don’t want to forget everything between now and then. 

The flight over was relatively painless.  Decent food, free wine, and a great selection of in-flight entertainment.  I happily chose the seat at the very front of economy class, so while my seat was still tiny, I had more leg room than I knew what to do with.  I slept for a few hours, but awoke at 6 AM BST (1 AM EST,) and watched the sun rise over the ocean.  Lovely, but didn’t really contribute to a feeling of being well-rested the next day.

Heathrow was oddly empty, which I realized later was due to the Icelandic volcano.  Apparently my flight was one of the last ones in; I arrived at 20 past 9, and the airport shut down at 11.  My experience, however, was completely unaffected by volcanoes or otherwise, and I made it through immigration and baggage claim with no difficulties.  I actually didn’t even have to pass through customs, as they took my word for it that I had nothing to declare. 

My friend Cassie and her friend Olivia were waiting for me outside; they had arrived two hours earlier, but had had to shuttle over from their terminal to mine in order to catch the Heathrow-Oxford express coach anyway.  We caught the coach just as it was about to leave, and sped on our way without incident.  We met a nice gentleman on the bus who had spent some time in the States, and was most interested to hear about William and Mary and to tell us about Oxford.

By the time we dragged our luggage from the bus stop to the college lodge, (which only I knew the location of, by the way; a big thank you to my mother’s endeavors on the internet to ask for assistance,) it was about 11, and we all felt as though we’d already had a 30 hour day.  Which, in all honesty, we had.  Our two orientation aides, Dean and David, met us at the lodge, and David took us to our rooms via a taxi, which was driven by the most talkative, opinionated gentleman I think I’ve ever met.  In case you weren’t aware, he informed us that all Oxford bands are “crap” and that music has gone downhill since White Snake.  It may be advantageous to note that he had a mullet.

The rest of the first day was pretty uneventful; we were all so tired that it mostly consisted of wandering the city for food and internet access to tell our families that we were alive.

I live in the Graduate Centre, which is directly on the Thames, (at this point called the Isis, I believe,) and my window looks directly out onto the river, the rear of the Christ Church Gardens, and the port of a large steamer which ferries drunken tourists and student groups along the river at all hours of the night.  There are also a large number of extremely talkative swans.  Thankfully, I am a very heavy sleeper when I want to be, so none of this bothers me in the slightest.

Much of my time has been spent in meetings, and then wandering the city.  Oxford is much more of a real city than I was anticipating.  The entire place is choked to death with buses, all from different unregulated companies in different shades of bright colors.  High, St. Aldates and Broad Streets are all covered in shops, from high end book stores to pharmacies, and cheap clothing boutiques with flimsy summer clothes.  What’s really fascinating is the mix of old and new; there’s a 300-year-old Tudor façade on the building immediately next to the Burger King.  The oldest building in Oxford, over 1,000 years, is very near to a KFC.  I’ll have you know that despite the presence of a Cadbury Crème Egg McFlurry, I have not yet even touched American fast food here.  In fact, last night the other William and Mary students and I went to our first Oxford Pub, “The Turf.”  I looked it up online, and it’s a point of pride that I was actually able to find it.  One must walk onto a tiny winding lane under the Bridge of Sighs, then turn into a shabby alley no more than two feet wide called “St. Helen’s Passage.”  (For the nerdy among us, Cassie remarked, “I feel like I’m going to Diagon Alley!)  At the end, after a turn or two, you end up at The Turf.  This is where Bill Clinton famously “did not inhale,” and also where the Prime Minister of Australia set the world record for downing a yard of ale in 11 seconds as a student.  I had the fish and chips, and a pint of the Landlord’s Favorite, and it was quite a satisfactory experience.

You can find my photos HERE, including a few that I've included in this post.  Here are just a few things I've noticed:

• Everything food related is a few degrees warmer than I’m used to.  The beer, the refrigerators; they’re just a touch less cool than I expect.  It’s not a bad thing, it’s just different. I think I actually like beer a bit better when it doesn’t hurt my teeth to drink it.

• They say “take away” rather than “take out.”  I don’t know why that struck me.

• They really do say “cheers” to everything.

• Bags are not a given in stores.  You must request one, or look awkward until they take pity and give you one.

• It’s cool.  Everyone who lives here is running around in skirts and short sleeves, and I’m only comfortable in my fleece jacket.  Oh well; it should get a few degrees warmer, and I’ll adjust.

• It’s absolutely gorgeous.  Really.  I haven’t been a place this stunning in my entire life. 

I’m not homesick, persay, but there are people and things I miss.  Nonetheless, I’m having a fantastic time so far, and I actually can’t wait for my tutorials to start.  I have my first meeting with Helena, my Victorian Literature tutor, on Thursday.  Until then, it’s free study and free time.

Of Pre-Oxfordian Anxiety

So, here we are. Six days until my departure for the land of Eng, and I'm already at the too-anxious-and-excited-to-sleep phase. This isn't a bad thing entirely! I've already remembered several more things that I must retrieve from Williamsburg this weekend during my hours of non-somnolence.

I've also begun packing; the enormous, handily-wheeled suitcase provided by Aunt Karen should be large enough for all I need to bring, and hopefully I won't overweight it. An additional $40 for one more bag seems dreadfully imprudent considering my pending excursion to a country where my dollars will suddenly be worth 2/3 as much as I'm used to.

Honestly, I'm apprehensive; I've been waiting for so long at this point that it's a little intimidating to think of this actually happening. Don't get me wrong: there's no stage of the actual process that particularly frightens me, and I'm sure that I'll be more than able to handle each step of the traveling procedure. Just the reality of such a change looming so close is exciting and a little alarming.

The little powder-blue countdown clock that's been living in the bottom left of my computer screen reads 0 weeks, 6 days, 11 hours and some odd minutes. That's not a lot of time, and it's hard to pin down whether I'm thrilled or panicked about that.

Edited to add: Unfortunately, this blog allows one to select only one time zone for all of one's posts, and I found it to make more sense to set it to London time. It is most assuredly not 2 o'clock in the afternoon; I doubt I should complain of my sleeplessness if it were.