...The story of a girl in London, England


4.30.2010

Day 3: Getting wet.


As I settled into the couch, I was interrupted by an ear splitting alarm. Yes... the fire alarm. I looked at the girls across the room, raising my eyebrows. They shrugged their shoulders, so I picked up my bag, my laptop, my bagel, and walked down the stairs in sweat pants and no shoes, into the pouring rain...

***

London in the rain is glorious. I walked home tonight on cobblestones glistening from the wet reflecting the street lamps and headlights. Granted, the umbrella I bought at Tesco is less than efficient; it has this tendency to collapse perpetually, and then blow inside out at the slightest gust of wind. But it's better than holding a newspaper over my head- and it's cuter too.

Today was busy, but the rigor didn't seem to wear me out like it has the past few days. (The jet lag is finally starting to wear off!) Class was easier to stay awake in, though I'll admit I haven't done hardly any of the homework, so I didn't add much in way of intelligent insight or conversation. Don't worry, we're dedicating tomorrow evening to Macbeth, and other readings.



We took a little detour on the way home, in search of a subway (you know, sandwiches) the missionaries had pointed us to, and found a little street with countless eating venues instead. Robyn and I got italian paninis. Mm! Delicious. After that, we stopped at the flats for about half an hour, and then headed out to see the city.


London is busy on Fridays. We got used to the less crowded, slower paced city that we found when we arrived. But today the tube was JAM PACKED. And let me tell you, if you are unfortunate enough to get stuck with your head in the armpit of a very smelly man while in the tube on a Friday (like Rachel), there's nothing you can do about it. We could smell him from four feet away! That poor girl. I'm surprised she survived.

After seeing the exterior of Westminster Abbey again, (deciding we didn't want to pay the 15# entrance fee afterall, preferring instead to attend a service someday for free), we headed to the Tate Modern. It took a little time, but we found it. (after finding these gorgeous orange flowers, which I totally trespassed in to get this picture).

That part of town was... sketchy? Though no ghetto, it was certainly a little less classy than our own Hyde Park Gate. (except for the flowers). But the trip was worth it. We thoroughly enjoyed the exhibits- Robyn, Rachel, and I.


We even saw Monet's The Water Lillies in person! And then we stopped off for a quick dinner at the Tate Cafe. Excellent! Mushroom soup, complete with bread and tap water. (yeah, we're cheap).


But after this, the real adventure began. We had to get to the Rose Theatre in Kensington. The first leg of the trip was by tube, the second by bus, which (supposedly) would drop us right across the street from our desired venue. In theory, this would have been a great plan, had we not been kicked off the bus early. Twice. Now, before you get to thinking it was because of our own bad behavior, let me tell you it was no fault of our own. They just decided they were running late, so they were going to skip a few stops at the end of their run to make up for it. WHAT?? I wanted to stomp my foot and say I had rights as an American Citizen, (just to be funny), but I decided they wouldn't appreciate that. Needless to say, we BARELY made it to the show. And we only found the theatre because one woman we asked for directions happened to be going there. London is an absolute MAZE. Lucky chance.

Can I just say that drivers in London are insane? First of all, driving at all is kind of risky business here... The roads are about three feet too skinny and they don't have stop signs, the roads are hardly ever labeled, there's no rhyme or reason to where they go or how they connect, and the roundabouts have a dot in the middle about the same size as the bottom of your garbage can. And here, you not only drive on the wrong side of the road, but often switch lanes when oncoming traffic is only seconds away, take corners at alarming speeds, AND don't yield to pedestrians. The bus drivers are no acception to the crazy London driver stereotype. In fact, they're worse. I'm surprised we didn't hit at least 14 cars and 28 people on that one journey. Seriously.

This doesn't do it justice... of course I only video during a straigh stretch. bah.


But I'm not going to say that riding at the top of a double decker bus isn't fun. IT'S AMAZING. It feels like a ride at disneyland... you think you're going to hit stuff everytime you turn a corner or skid into a bus stop... but miraculously, you don't!

Finding a subway home was ridiculous, because everybody had different ideas about which platform was right, and which train to take. But, we made it eventually. And I walked home with my broken umbrella in that glorious rain.

***

My toes were definitely cold from standing in the rain without any shoes. We had congregated at our designated meeting place, if there were ever to be a fire. ... No flames... No police... No firetruck... No professors... No phones... Interesting predicament really.

Not to worry. We got hold of the landlady eventually. She checked everything out, and let us back in. We still don't know what made that fire alarm go off. But we're all alive.

What an adventure, this.

4.29.2010

Day 2: A Few Firsts


Today, for the first time, I woke up in London, England. I slept for ten glorious hours... from 10pm to 8am. (3pm to 1am Utah time). But it didn't exactly relieve my poor brain from the fog that's filled it the last 2 days. I got in the shower, and tried to wash my hair with soap. NOT shampoo. It appears the adjustment is going to take a couple more days... I'm still tired as can be.

Today, for the first time, I went to class around the corner, in the Hyde Park church building. We had a great discussion about the arts, and I was reminded again of an idea discussed in my World Religions class: Anekentavida. There are many ways to see the world, and often, there is no RIGHT answer. People have different eyes, so naturally they see things differently than you.


Today, for the first time, I rode the Metro. We had a few mishaps... including, but not limited to: Robyn getting on the train just as the doors closed, and whizzing away without us; getting on the wrong train, (more than once); and getting caught in the saloon style doors that let you into the station when you slide your card (oops).



Today, for the first time, I saw Big Ben, and Picadilly square, and the Thames, and Westminster Abbey. My feet hurt. But holy cow, it was fun. Robyn, Rachel, and I got lots of adorable pictures, and had a good time wandering the streets of London. I love those girls.

Today, for the first time, someone asked me for directions. I felt pretty cool, I'm not going to lie. Because that means somebody thought, "hey, she looks like she knows what she's doing. I bet she's local".... Too bad I wasn't much help! ;)


Today, for the first time, I had FISH & CHIPS! Just around the corner at the Goat Tavern, where you order at the bar, and sit in big comfy chairs. It was cozy and dim and definitely british.

Oh! I nearly forgot! Today I also went without a wallet. I seem to have... uh... misplaced it indefinitely. (AKA, I've cancelled my credit cards, I'm totally broke, my parents are sending a new BYU ID, a new debit card will be mailed to me by next week, I don't have a temple recommend anymore, I lost my tube pass, AND about 80# cash, in addition to my card for health insurance, and I'm sort of winging it, and crossing my fingers). WOHOO! :) Hopefully I've got my tragedy for the trip out of the way.

4.28.2010

Day 1: Love At First Sight


I am writing to the sounds of double decker buses and black taxi cabs as they pass along the cobblestones below me... the windows of the common room are open just enough to let a light breeze rustle around the room, tousling my hair now and again.

...London.

***

6:30am - Mountain Time
I woke up exhausted. Never a good sign. But, I knew I was headed for London, so I dragged myself from the comfort of the covers, dragged my eyelids open, and dragged my tired self to the shower.

8:00am - Mountain Time
Anxiety begins setting in. Yes, I am right on time. Yes, My flights have been confirmed. No, I haven't forgotten my passport, or my license, or anything else for that matter. ... But I hate airports more than anything. I'd rather eat soggy grapes than deal with airport problems. But this time I was lucky. Everything went smoothly. And once I reached the gate, I relaxed.

2:00pm - Mountain Time (5:00pm - Eastern Time)
"Seat Requested"... What does that mean?? Nobody else's ticket in my group says that. What's going on? The voice coming over the intercom in the JFK airport was telling me to be patient, and watch the screen. The screen said the same thing. "Just wait for your name. Don't worry. It will show up.... Maybe."

3:30pm - Mountain Time (6:30pm - Eastern Time)
I have a seat. (phew!) Next to an adorable couple and their little baby girl lauren. She didn't cry at all, and even gave me a couple smiles. Jolly Good.

5:30pm - Mountain Time (8:30pm - Eastern Time)
You know it's always been a secret life goal of mine to eat dinner on an airplane. Life goal #382... check! Vegetarian pasta, complete with gingerale, cheese and crackers, a roll, a limp green salad with one lonely grape tomatoe, and a brownie to boot!

7:30pm - Mountain Time (10:30pm - Eastern Time) (2:30am - London Time)
Wish I could sleep. This blanket is pathetic.

9:30pm- Mountain Time (12:30am - Eastern Time) (4:30am - London Time)
Will this never end???

10:30pm- Mountain Time (1:30am - Eastern Time) (5:30am - London Time)
How did it become dark so quickly, and then light again?? Oh right. We're flying towards the sun. I forget.

12:00am - Mountain Time (3:00am - Eastern Time) (7:00am- London Time)
Finally. Getting off the plane... But passport/immigration checks in the airport are even more anxiety invoking than normal security!! You wait in line forever, and then they grill you about what you're doing, and who you're with, and why you're there. And the fact that the man in the uniform has a funny accent doesn't help none neither. Because you're loopy.

... where the heck do we go?

... oh... yes... there.

... your credit card isn't working? blast.

... where is the heathrow express? what terminal are we in? which train is that? ...

... oops. wrong train.

... oh well.

... right train!

And THEN... after several minutes underground. After hours of airports and uncomfortable quarter size pillows and loud engines and cold air and wimpy blankets and fail reclining seats... there was LONDON!

Oh it's beautiful!!... It's just beautiful. The architecture is somehow more organic, it has more personality, more angles... more color! And they have trees here, everywhere! And vines, and flowers climbing the walls. Wrought iron gates, bridges, red brick houses, white collumned buildings... It's old fashioned. In an up-to-date sort of way.

Admittedly, after getting off the heathrow express, we got a little lost. But a very kind gentleman stopped to ask if we needed some assistance, and we gratefully took his advice on where to get a cab, since we couldn't even seem to find our way onto the street level.

It only took a moment, once we were in the right place, to hail a black taxi cab. We jammed three girls, four suitcases, and four backpacks into that taxi, and told the driver where to go. The whole way we talked and laughed with him- I grilled him for information on the things we were seeing, and he told me what he knew. I've decided that this is just how I'm going to have to be here... I have to get out of my comfort zone and talk to people. Because that is the only way to really live.

He dropped us off at the flats, marked with an obvious BYU so we could find them. And told us that we pay after we've got out of the car, not while we're inside it, because we trust each other. He knows we won't run away without payinng, and we know he'll get us where we need to go at a fair rate. Interesting. You always pay INSIDE the cab in America... I wonder what that says about our general moral standards, eh?

The flats. The flats are amazing. I squeeled like a little girl when I first began exploring them. I'm on the fifth floor, which is going to keep me nice and fit. Or exhuasted. Whichever. ;) They have so much character! No two rooms are the same... they are white and blue with tan and gold accents, and the view from every sinngle window is amazing. However, when I flushed the toilet for the first time, I nearly jumped out of my skin it scared me so bad. And the TP feels like sandpaper.

We ran some errands. Walked the streets. Ignored our jet lagged brains.

I may have indulged just a little on the groceries. Goat cheese, sesame seed bagels, fig yogurt, huge red grapes, a whole cucumber, kalamata olives. Ah well... I am what I am, and I like what I like. I just can't do peanut butter and jelly like everyone else.

Oh, and just so you know for SURE... London definitely exists. Thank heavens.

4.26.2010

Cross Your Fingers!

One more day.

Tomorrow morning, at 10:15am, I will be sitting comfortably (we hope) in a Delta Airplane, ready to fly across the Atlantic Ocean. In about 24 hours I will be on my way to London, England. And the reality of that statement still isn't setting in. Sometimes I feel like I'm playing house. London doesn't REALLY exist. And just before the plane is scheduled t0 leave, everyone will start laughing and say, "now wasn't that a funny joke?"... and we'll all go home.

I am seriously starting to get nervous. My stomach keeps tying itself in knots, and then untying itself, and then knotting up again. I have so much to do in the next 24 hours... I haven't even begun to pack. So many people to call. So many things to get done!! What if that blasted Icelandic volcano decides to erupt again? What if I lose my passport and they won't let me in?? What if I forget something? What if they don't believe I'm really 18?? (Lets face it, a girl at Timpview asked if I was new to the school last week when I was visiting Paul)... What if it's all just a cruel practical joke? What if ...

Well, I guess tomorrow I'm going to find out if London actually exists. Cross your fingers. I'm crossing mine.


4.19.2010

8 Days, And Counting...


It is sunday night, and I am sitting on the couch in my kitchen-Joy is texting, Melissa is cleaning up the dishes, Cassandra is eating one of the last cheese rolls... This small, cinder block and speckled carpet freshman dorm has become home to me...

But I'm beginning to learn that you can have many homes. They all have their own place and time, some may last forever, while others may last for only eight months. A home can be a house, one that is lived in and cried in and laughed in and loved in. A home can be a feeling, the sigh of relief and the smile that comes when your little brother runs to meet you in the driveway. A home can be a group of friends, with inside jokes and knowing looks and embarrasing stories they'll hold over your head for years, but never tell. It can be the smell of your mom's laundry detergent, or the keys of a familiar piano... And this particular home, in which I've lived for the last 8 months, in which I've passed cleaning checks, studied for exams, talked till the early morning hours, and laughed till I cried, will no longer be mine in just three short days.

It's kind of strange to think that a whole year of college has disappeared. I am a little older... I can see where the wrinkles will form in my hands... and I am, I hope, a little wiser too. Somehow the snow flakes that covered the branches of the twin trees outside my window have turned to blossoms. Things are different. People are moving on, and going places, and changing. And in 8 days, I will be in London, England.

And hopefully, I will find a home there too.

8 days and counting...

It's all rather bittersweet.