My eyes opened as the alarm went off at 7:46... and three seconds later I was hit by a pillow from Ashley's side of the room. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"....
Oh yeah!... (Somehow I managed to forget. Again.)
In fact, at this very minute, 19 years before, I had been born! (It worked out sort of perfectly with the time change between London and Utah).
I laughed at Ashley, and threw a pillow back in her direction. And then I hopped off to the shower. Little did I know the shower was bipolar. I ended up waiting to catch it between the freezing cold and scalding hot phases... there would be about twenty seconds of average temperature water in between, and I'd get my hair wet as fast as I could, and then wait again. Ashley didn't even bother with it and washed her hair in the sink. Probably the wiser woman.
Anyway, after that adventure, we went downstairs for breakfast. The girls sang happy birthday, and I laughed, and sat down. Much to my surprise, there was a familiar looking envelope and a box covered in scrapbooking paper... I looked at Robyn, and said "oh, you shouldn't have!", but she just shrugged her shoulders and said "don't look at me!"... I looked at Ashley questioningly,and she shook her head.
I carefully peeled the envelope apart, and found, very MUCH to my surprise, handwritten letters from each of my family members, and heart shaped confetti to boot! (Which Dexter called graffiti.)
I was so excited I could hardly contain myself, and I just kept squeeling like a little girl, and thinking, "I don't know how they managed this... I didn't even tell them I would be in Stratford!... My mom is amazing."
I opened up my little box and found some candy from my candy stash, (which was certainly welcome), and a little paper airplane with the words "so you can fly home" penned unmistakably in Riley's hand.
I smiled as I ate my breakfast, and marveled at the mystery of my mother's far reaching hand. Even when I was across the Atlantic Ocean, she managed to reach me on my birthday.
After that we all piled into the bus. I sat in front of Robyn and Rachel, and one of them pulled something out of her backpack. They grinned, and said proudly "happy birthday!" as they handed me the gift wrapped in a grocery bag... I laughed, and unwrapped it.
I don't know what I was expecting, but what I found was a little wallet I had been fingering weeks ago in TKMaxx. It was adorable, brown and white and orange and teal, with little swirls and flowers, and a snap to keep it closed. I remembered lingering near it, sighing and saying, "I'll be fine. I don't NEED it. I'll just get a wallet America when we go home"...
I gave them both gigantic hugs, and started switching my money and things from the little notebook I'd been using, to the wallet. And as I did, Elise gave a little speech, starting with "Ahem!! 19 years ago, the world was blessed"... and then conducted the bus in singing. I laughed at the big finish... "haaaaaaappy biiiiiirthdaaaaaaay, toooooooo youuuuuu!"
Once the bus finally started moving, we headed toward Blenheim palace. Once there, Lancelot distributed maps, and tickets for the tour,and then set us loose.The place seemed very impressive, as we walked through the huge front gate. But we headed immediately around the back towards the sprawling gardens. We took pictures frolicking in the fields, found a waterfall, and side paths, and a lake, (complete with swans). And we made up stories about "Capability Brown", the man who had lived in solitude on the land for years, as he designed and molded the landscape.
We made it back just in time for the tour, and ran into our bus driver as we walked up the last of the garden steps. We asked if he was enjoying the scenery, and he replied, completely dead pan, "These? Oh, I have gardens much better than these at my house. You can all come! I invite you!"... and then he winked, and walked away. Oh, Ted. What a guy.
The inside of Blenheim was beautiful. Tapestries, sculptures, paintings galore. I couldn't believe the number of rooms! And I could understand why they used to call rooms by their color-- each was distinct and different from the others. There was a green room, a red room, a yellow room, a blue room... And the change from color to color was unmistakable. Everything down to the rugs and the furniture was in complete synchrony.
However, the man giving the tour was... ah... long winded. Extraordinarilly so. In fact, he'd spend 15 minutes in every room, looking at each individual painting, telling stories, even dating the furniture! And though I can't say it wasn't interesting, we had a bus to catch, and more to see! Needless to say, I began getting a little restless. I looked at Jill, she looked back... we searched for Christian and Annie and Jason... and finally we slid towards Lance and whispered, "Can we go? We've got to see the maze!" And much to everyone's surprise, he said "Well, sure."
And so, with that, Jason, Jill and I led the way, weaving in and out of tour groups, glancing at the rooms we rushed through, and broke into a run as we reached the light of the outdoors. You see, the train only ran every half hour, and it was about 5 minutes till.
We ran, and ran, and ran... and as we rounded a corner, we saw the mini train, just getting ready to leave. We ran even harder, and jumped onto a seat, with no time to lose. We panted and laughed and whooped- and then realized we'd lost Christian and Annie. We waited, squinting to see them, and then the train began to move... just as they appeared around the corner, walking at a leisurely pace. Ah, well... they could walk.
We got to the other end of the gardens in about ten minutes, and headed immediately for the famous yew tree/hedge maze. It was totally awesome. We ran right in with all the ten year olds, and got completely lost. The bushes were trimmed immaculately, and rose far above our heads. Eventually the others made it, and we directed them from atop one of the high wooden platforms. They lifted a waterbottle above their heads so we could see their progression. And then we met them in the middle.
It was seriously cool. I want a maze when I grow up.
Then we went over to the butterfly house, which was a little bit of a disappointment at first, seeing as how they weren't flying all over like we had expected. But if you paid attention and looked a little closer, there were butterflies everywhere: hiding under leaves, camoflauged against the wood, sitting quietly on the brick. A gigantic blue butterfly landed on my knee as I was bending down to get a closer look, and it perched there for at least a minute, slowly opening and closing its wings.
Gah! Awesome!!
After that it was time to head back to the bus. (But not before grabbing a Ribena blackcurrent popsicle, on account of it being so beautifully hot outside). We passed a few gigantic, hollow trees on the way, and I thoroughly enjoyed the grass beneath my feet.
Then it was off to Oxford.
First item of business? EAT SOME FOOD. We found a Wagamama's and decided that it sounded like as good a time as any to try the famous noodle place. Jill and Jason got giant bowls of soup, with huge ladels to drink the broth. Annie got a plate of thin delicious noodles, and I got some rice and gyoza. Yum.
We moaned about the typical SLOWNESS of service, but enjoyed our food none the less. In England they won't split your bill, they've never heard of free refills,(or any other kind of refill, for that matter), and you NEVER hear the occasional "Hey, how's your meal?"... in fact, for the most part, you're left pretty much alone. Which is great for an Englishman I suppose, but for us Americans, well... it gets a little aggravating.
After that we went to the church where the Harry Potter scenes in the "great hall" were filmed. Of course, they charge you to see it, and none of us but Annie wanted to see it 5 pounds worth. So, we sat in the park and people-watched while we waited for her to be finished.
It was another gorgeous day, so we didn't mind lounging in the grass. We threw things at each other, and talked about everything from Jill's sister's wedding to Christian's camera.
And once Annie was ready, we consulted our maps, and headed toward the National History Museum. This particul museum is unique because it is a vast collection presented in the rather condensed Victorian style. Everythingw as shoved together in glass cases and drawers, which meant you didn't have to walk hardly at all. You just sauntered around the relatively small building looking at the cases filled with interesting, strange, or exotic things.
We saw a gigantic crab that had legs longer than mine, and the skeleton of a DoDo Bird, and a giraffe! They had a stuffed Ostrich, which was much bigger than I imagined. And a Leopard and a Cheetah you could touch! And an adorable little Kiwi bird, which is an awfully funny looking animal, and a WAMBAT! And even one of those Lizards with the stretchy neck part, like on Jurassic Park. And a rather large collection of gigantic/odd looking bugs, with horns and pinchers and stings and wings. It was totally awesome.
We took some pictures in the dinosaur footprints outside the building, pretending to be Raptors. And this very nice girl who worked at the museum volunteered to take the picture, admitting she had done the very same thing more than once.
And then we trudged back to the City Center, where we sat on some steps with the rest of the group, completely exhuasted and ready to go home, waiting for the bus to arrive.
When we finally got home, Jill said we had to do something awesome for my birthday, so a few of us girls decided to hop on the first bus that came, and see where it took us. (Of course, before we could do that, Cali insisted on making me a birthday crown. Possibly the coolest head ornament ever created. It was made out of lined paper and Miriam's shakespeare duct tape. And they wrote "Happy Birthday Shamae!" around the side).
We decided after several blocks that the Pizza Express we had passed looked like a good idea. We'd never been there, but heard it was amazing. So we hopped off at the next stop, and back tracked. Of course, when we walked in and realized that Pizza Express is in fact a very high class restaurant, we felt a little sheepish... (considering we were wearing jeans and t-shirts, and one of us was wearing a paper crown). But, despite the dissaproving looks we got from the English men and women looking all posh in their suits and fancy slacks, we sat our party of six right down, and took a look at the menu.
Elise had a little trouble communicating with the waiter. He just couldn't understand why she was asking what KIND of cheesecake they had... (apparently in England there is only one kind). We laughed a lot at her expense, but she was a good sport about it.
I ordered some mozzarella/basil/tomato pizza, which was delicious. And we all had a good time. (Don't worry, I removed my hat, for etiquette's sake). And after several minutes of trying to figure out how to get our bill, and how to pay for it, we decided that there are just some social cues, (especially in restaurants), that we don't pick up on because we don't know they exist. Somehow, everyone else knows what's going on, and we never do. But, no matter. We always manage to figure it out somehow.
And I guess that sort of defines this experience--a little awkward at times, but a growing experience none the less.
It's middle school. All over again. Only ... better.
6.03.2010
Day 36: Ice Cream Clouds
After a good night's sleep, we walked downstairs for breakfast. There was a table with a number 2 on it, (just for us), and each place-setting had a teacup on a saucer, and a cute china plate, and orange juice in a fancy wine glass. We got hot chocolate, and toast with jam, and sausage, and a fried egg, and tomatoes, and mushrooms, and bacon...REAL bacon. You know, the thick and delicious kind, that actually looks like it might have actually come from a pig instead of a processor. MM.Best breakfast in the last six weeks!! And I felt so fancy, pouring my hot chocolate from a teapot.
After everyone had finished eating and gathered outside the bed and breakfasts, we walked as a group over to Shakespeare's birthplace. Yeah. Cool right?
You konw, all of these Shakespearean tourist sites have this wonderful habit of saying, "maybe", "perhaps", "probably", and "we're pretty sure" an awful lot... And it became a sort of joke within the group...
We'd go to a park and say, "hey, did you know that this was Shakespeare's favorite park? (Maybe)."...
We'd eat a Magnum ice cream bar and say, "hey, did you know that Shakespeare actually invented Magnum ice cream bars? (Probably)."...
We'd use the toilets in McDonalds and say, "hey, did you know that Shakespeare actually used these toilets? And he put this wall paper up too. (Perhaps, possibly, we're pretty sure)." ...
Yes, well, we're a little immature. But, it's ok.
The Roses here smell so good, by the way. We couldn't get over them... every time there was a rose bush, we'd all run and smell the flowers vigorously. Because they smell SO DANG good! It's like, a candy shop on a stem.
We went to New Place, which is the site where Shakespeare lived later in his life with his wife and two (three?) kids. It's actually an archeological site, and we got to watch them dig (for buried treasure, and other cool things).
Then we went across the road to some gardens. Every garden I've seen here has one flower in common- bright orange poppies. Everywhere. They make me think of the Wizard of Oz. And this garden was no different.
We walked around admiring the strange statues, and snapping pictures of poppies, and having a grand old time.
And then it was time to go to Hall's Croft. Shakespeare's daughter's husband's house. (Yes, really. You see, they made as many tourist sites as possible in Stratfor-Upon-Avon, no matter how distant the relation or relevance to good old Bill.)
We had to do the tour in two shifts, because our group was so big. And so, we ended up sitting and talking on some benches for a good twenty minutes while the other half was inside. We read through the information pamphlets like it was sunday school, each taking a paragraph on the sheet. And we played with Christian's camera, and made Shakespeare jokes, and had a very lovely time.
The tour was fun... lots of rather frightening medical tools that made you grimace, and interesting facts about how ridiculous the medical notions were back in Shakespeare's time. And there was one activity where you got to write down your own recipe for a medical tonic! Jill and I made a recipe for Happiness... and it included, among other things, a red balloon, Johny Depp, Sheep's Wool, Smiles, Sprinkles, Love, Fluffy Clouds, Pizza, Raspberries, and Rainbows.
Right before we left, Christian, Jason, Jill and I did a Canga line through the top floor, and called it good.
Then we walked over to the Holy Trinity Church, to see Shakespeare's grave. Now THAT was cool.
*** say something else here!
After all that sight seeing, we had some free time. We walked through a park and found a small shop where we could buy Magnum Bars--the best ice cream bars on the planet--and then headed further up the narrow dirt path. We came to the banks of the Avon River where several little row boats were tied in a line, and sat debating over who would be in which boat. It was decided that Jason, Camille, and I would make up one crew. We paid our money, and hopped aboard our little boat Viola.
At first we had a little trouble getting anywhere... Jason was the man,(so naturally he was in charge of the oars), and lets just say he didn't exactly grasp the art of rowing all at once... in fact he ran into a large bush, and fell backwards into the bow. We were laughing so hard my stomach hurt, and he just kept saying, "gah!! don't laugh! I can do it!"...
Eventually he figured it out. And we whipped out a parasol and slid along the river. (Only running into one or two more bushes, and a boat, along the way). And we somehow created names for each other... I was Lady Willamina Cotswallow (or something like that), a rather posh lady who loved to go up and down the Avon on her boat Viola, with her Boatswain Charles (Jason) and her good friend Helga Beatrice (Camille), who, consequently, always went by her second name rather than her first.
Yes, we had a time of it. Let me tell you.And I'm afraid the names have stuck. Jason shall always be my Boatswain.
After that it was time for lunch. We found a little baguette shoppe called "Jester's", just down a little side street, and I bought a tomato, mozzarella and basil sandwhich. The woman at the counter laughed at how I said basil, and said "Basil. You say it so strangely! It's BAH-SIL!"...
We shopped around a bit, and watched the street performers painted gold and silver, bowing for a coin. We went to a little souvenier shop and bought a few nick nacks, and laughed over the Union Jack decorated Thongs. We looked into bakeries and sweet shops, book stores and boutiques.
We were supposed to have a tour of the RSC theatre at 3:00. Unfortunately, they decided to have an extra rehearsal. So, instead, we had a pretend tour. We sat in some chairs, and they told us stories and answered questions and let us try on a costume or two. I would have paid rapt attention, only some angel of a girl started playing with my hair, and I'll admit it... I was a goner. Lost any kind of focus, and pretty much fell asleep.
After that Jason, Christian, Annie, Jill and I decided it might be nice to just lounge around in a park until the show. We were all awfully tired, and it was an absolutely gorgeous day. You know the kind... when the sky is perfectly blue and the clouds hover like giant scoops of ice cream. We paid the 50p it cost to cross the Avon on the ferry, (which was just like the one in a Knight's Tale), and then we found a nice stretch of grass, with some trees, and settled in. We talked for a good hour... moving every now and then with the shade as the sun arched across the sky. And we even had a waving competition with a tiny little girl who was running around near us. It was perfect.
Then Jason happened to look back towards the Avon and announced, "uh, guys? The Ferry man is leaving"... Yeah. OOps? Apparently the Ferry doesn't run 24/7. We all responded with a, "huh. would you look at that", laughed, and decided we should probably start trying to find a bridge, (so that we would actually made it to the other side to see the show).
Antony and Cleopatra was... well, you know it was certainly... well, yeah. Ahem.
I mean that script is pretty boring as it is. And then you throw in Sean Connery as
Antony making love to a Cleopatra who was probably the inspiration for Esthma on the Emperor's New Groove, (complete with nobby joints and emaciated complexion...) and... well, you've certainly got something INTERESTING on your hands.
Lets just say that I fell asleep. I don't think I've ever actually done that in a theatre before. EVER.
Uhhgg. I can't even think about it.
Fortunately there was a McDonalds around the corner, and we got a McFlurry to cheer our little hearts. The McDonalds here are super classy. It's ridiculous.
And after our McDonalds pick me up, we began walking home. As the five of us were rather engrossed in conversation about the play we'd just seen, a rather frightening woman smoking a cigarrette came around the corner, walking toward us. Then we realized that it was Cleopatra. Scared the pants off me.
The boys bid us goodnight, and made sure we got into our bed and breakfasts safely.
And I sighed as I climbed into bed after a nearly perfect day. Despite the unfortunate theatrical experience and the run in with Esthma.
After everyone had finished eating and gathered outside the bed and breakfasts, we walked as a group over to Shakespeare's birthplace. Yeah. Cool right?
You konw, all of these Shakespearean tourist sites have this wonderful habit of saying, "maybe", "perhaps", "probably", and "we're pretty sure" an awful lot... And it became a sort of joke within the group...
We'd go to a park and say, "hey, did you know that this was Shakespeare's favorite park? (Maybe)."...
We'd eat a Magnum ice cream bar and say, "hey, did you know that Shakespeare actually invented Magnum ice cream bars? (Probably)."...
We'd use the toilets in McDonalds and say, "hey, did you know that Shakespeare actually used these toilets? And he put this wall paper up too. (Perhaps, possibly, we're pretty sure)." ...
Yes, well, we're a little immature. But, it's ok.
The Roses here smell so good, by the way. We couldn't get over them... every time there was a rose bush, we'd all run and smell the flowers vigorously. Because they smell SO DANG good! It's like, a candy shop on a stem.
We went to New Place, which is the site where Shakespeare lived later in his life with his wife and two (three?) kids. It's actually an archeological site, and we got to watch them dig (for buried treasure, and other cool things).
Then we went across the road to some gardens. Every garden I've seen here has one flower in common- bright orange poppies. Everywhere. They make me think of the Wizard of Oz. And this garden was no different.
We walked around admiring the strange statues, and snapping pictures of poppies, and having a grand old time.
And then it was time to go to Hall's Croft. Shakespeare's daughter's husband's house. (Yes, really. You see, they made as many tourist sites as possible in Stratfor-Upon-Avon, no matter how distant the relation or relevance to good old Bill.)
We had to do the tour in two shifts, because our group was so big. And so, we ended up sitting and talking on some benches for a good twenty minutes while the other half was inside. We read through the information pamphlets like it was sunday school, each taking a paragraph on the sheet. And we played with Christian's camera, and made Shakespeare jokes, and had a very lovely time.
The tour was fun... lots of rather frightening medical tools that made you grimace, and interesting facts about how ridiculous the medical notions were back in Shakespeare's time. And there was one activity where you got to write down your own recipe for a medical tonic! Jill and I made a recipe for Happiness... and it included, among other things, a red balloon, Johny Depp, Sheep's Wool, Smiles, Sprinkles, Love, Fluffy Clouds, Pizza, Raspberries, and Rainbows.
Right before we left, Christian, Jason, Jill and I did a Canga line through the top floor, and called it good.
Then we walked over to the Holy Trinity Church, to see Shakespeare's grave. Now THAT was cool.
*** say something else here!
After all that sight seeing, we had some free time. We walked through a park and found a small shop where we could buy Magnum Bars--the best ice cream bars on the planet--and then headed further up the narrow dirt path. We came to the banks of the Avon River where several little row boats were tied in a line, and sat debating over who would be in which boat. It was decided that Jason, Camille, and I would make up one crew. We paid our money, and hopped aboard our little boat Viola.
At first we had a little trouble getting anywhere... Jason was the man,(so naturally he was in charge of the oars), and lets just say he didn't exactly grasp the art of rowing all at once... in fact he ran into a large bush, and fell backwards into the bow. We were laughing so hard my stomach hurt, and he just kept saying, "gah!! don't laugh! I can do it!"...
Eventually he figured it out. And we whipped out a parasol and slid along the river. (Only running into one or two more bushes, and a boat, along the way). And we somehow created names for each other... I was Lady Willamina Cotswallow (or something like that), a rather posh lady who loved to go up and down the Avon on her boat Viola, with her Boatswain Charles (Jason) and her good friend Helga Beatrice (Camille), who, consequently, always went by her second name rather than her first.
Yes, we had a time of it. Let me tell you.And I'm afraid the names have stuck. Jason shall always be my Boatswain.
After that it was time for lunch. We found a little baguette shoppe called "Jester's", just down a little side street, and I bought a tomato, mozzarella and basil sandwhich. The woman at the counter laughed at how I said basil, and said "Basil. You say it so strangely! It's BAH-SIL!"...
We shopped around a bit, and watched the street performers painted gold and silver, bowing for a coin. We went to a little souvenier shop and bought a few nick nacks, and laughed over the Union Jack decorated Thongs. We looked into bakeries and sweet shops, book stores and boutiques.
We were supposed to have a tour of the RSC theatre at 3:00. Unfortunately, they decided to have an extra rehearsal. So, instead, we had a pretend tour. We sat in some chairs, and they told us stories and answered questions and let us try on a costume or two. I would have paid rapt attention, only some angel of a girl started playing with my hair, and I'll admit it... I was a goner. Lost any kind of focus, and pretty much fell asleep.
After that Jason, Christian, Annie, Jill and I decided it might be nice to just lounge around in a park until the show. We were all awfully tired, and it was an absolutely gorgeous day. You know the kind... when the sky is perfectly blue and the clouds hover like giant scoops of ice cream. We paid the 50p it cost to cross the Avon on the ferry, (which was just like the one in a Knight's Tale), and then we found a nice stretch of grass, with some trees, and settled in. We talked for a good hour... moving every now and then with the shade as the sun arched across the sky. And we even had a waving competition with a tiny little girl who was running around near us. It was perfect.
Then Jason happened to look back towards the Avon and announced, "uh, guys? The Ferry man is leaving"... Yeah. OOps? Apparently the Ferry doesn't run 24/7. We all responded with a, "huh. would you look at that", laughed, and decided we should probably start trying to find a bridge, (so that we would actually made it to the other side to see the show).
Antony and Cleopatra was... well, you know it was certainly... well, yeah. Ahem.
I mean that script is pretty boring as it is. And then you throw in Sean Connery as
Antony making love to a Cleopatra who was probably the inspiration for Esthma on the Emperor's New Groove, (complete with nobby joints and emaciated complexion...) and... well, you've certainly got something INTERESTING on your hands.
Lets just say that I fell asleep. I don't think I've ever actually done that in a theatre before. EVER.
Uhhgg. I can't even think about it.
Fortunately there was a McDonalds around the corner, and we got a McFlurry to cheer our little hearts. The McDonalds here are super classy. It's ridiculous.
And after our McDonalds pick me up, we began walking home. As the five of us were rather engrossed in conversation about the play we'd just seen, a rather frightening woman smoking a cigarrette came around the corner, walking toward us. Then we realized that it was Cleopatra. Scared the pants off me.
The boys bid us goodnight, and made sure we got into our bed and breakfasts safely.
And I sighed as I climbed into bed after a nearly perfect day. Despite the unfortunate theatrical experience and the run in with Esthma.
Day 35: Bed of Roses
Well, we got on a bus this morning. At 6:45. Uck.
But don't you worry, I got a window seat. And that's all you really need to have a good bus nap. (That and a leather jacket pillow. haha).
After bouncing around for a couple hours and looking silly with my head tilted back at an awkward sleeping-sitting-up angle, (and probably breathing oddly on my dear friend Rachel),I awoke to a very rainy day.
We alighted at Coventry Cathedral, and headed straight for the toilets. They were sort of sketchy and gheto, and the doors didn't actually lock... but when you gotta go, you gotta go. Turns out those were the wrong toilets. OOps. Anyway, Coventry Cathedral is adjacent to St. Michael's Cathedral--or the remains of what used to be St. Michael's Cathedral... a 900 year old cathedral that was bombed in one of the World Wars. (I honestly can't remember which, and for once google is failing me). The old walls and empty windows were gorgeous, especially in the rain. There was one window in particular that caught my attention. It had shards of yellow stained glass still sticking stubbornly in their iron casings, making odd angles
Of course, we got some excellent umbrella pictures, seeing as how is was awfully wet. You know everyone seems to be getting tired of all the "old stuff"... but I just LOVE it! No matter how many castles, and cathedrals, and old towns I've seen... I could never get bored with all that old architecture. Maybe I should have been an architect. It fascinates me.
Anyway, after walking around St. Michaels for a bit, we headed into the warmer, dryer Coventry Cathedral. And boy, ... it didn't didn't meet my expectations. But it didn't fall above or below them either. It... went around them.
The whole thing was very modern in style. Lots of metal. And though the stained glass window montage was beautiful, (despite it's unfamiliar shape and design), the rest was completely... unexpected. They had these giant wooden boards on the wall with scripture quotes etched into them in huge letters... and the glass at the entrance was covered in strange zombie like figures with wings and harps. (I learned later that this represented the resurrection, which made a lot more sense than anything I could come up with).
At any rate, we were all excited to leave when Lancelot started herding us back to the bus. And speaking of herding... I never thought in all my years that even as a college student, the Kindergarten herding laws would still apply. Oh well. At least we don't have to hold hands.
After that it was on to Kennelworth Castle!! Huzzah!
I have to admit, this castle was LIGIT. (And I don't even use that word.) Even though it was pouring rain, and my feet were totally soaked, and my pants were ripped and dirty and sopping wet, it was AMAZING.
The place was a total labyrinth.So many stairways and doorways and passageways and rooms! I spent a good fourty five minutes just wandering on my own, poking my head into old forgotten places... and wondering what they were for and who had lived there, years and years ago. I couldn't help singing and laughing out loud as I ran along the outer wall, and then up the hillside, into the long, wet grass. I admit, I had a momentary balancing issue, and slid all the way down on my rear end... but don't worry, nobody saw. ;) And then I just laughed and laughed at my wet jeans, and put my head back, and stared at the castle above me.
I found what felt like the secret garden...(I love finding openings in the hedge!!)... and I don't think I was actually supposed to be there. But, it's ok. I found my way out eventually. I was just blocked by a hedge and a wall for a while. And I felt like I was having a grand adventure...
During that hour of blissful play, I was transported to much younger days... when Riley and I would play in the trees and the bushes, make forts and houses. When we collected things, like bottles and keys. When we had special powers, and a million enemieswe could always fight with... against whom we would always win. For an hour, I played pretend. And I wished my dear friend could be there too.
There were sword fighting lessons, and helmets, and chainmail. And we all had a laugh in our ridiculous outfits.
And then, it was time to go.
We piled back onto the bus, too soon. And began driving, once again. This time towards Anne Hathaway's cottage. (Not THAT Anne Hathaway, the other one. You know, William's wife. The bard.)...
I admit it was becoming more miserable, as my feet stayed wet and got colder. But the site was interesting... and the bench whereon William sat too woo his Anne was still there, which, (allegedly), will tell you how good your love life will be, based on whether or not ir squeeks when you sit down.
I squeeked.:P
There was also a statue garden, with very strange figures from most of Shakespeare's more popular works. And there was even a giant maze made of hedges in the middle! We all ran around inside of it with our umbrellas, pretending it was the Tri-Wizard Tournament, laughing a lot, and getting our shoes rather muddy.
And then it was time to hop on the bus again. I tell you, the getting on and off and on and off again... it was becoming a hassle.
Our last stop of the day was the Mary Arden Farm. (I honestly can't remember if she was his mother, or some other distant relative. All the Shakespeare sites sort of melted together into one in my brain...) But it was very cool. It was an actual Victorian style farm, still in working condition, with people in dresses milking cows and feeding chickens! (Sounds like fun, right? Especially when it's raining...)
We saw a performance from the falconry... the falconness? The Falcon lady? Well, at any rate, the lady who trained the birds was there. She showed us first a little white owl who was supposed to fly silently, (because all owls do), but instead he just screached and screached and screached some more.
Then she brought out a European Eagle Owl named Tes, and it was GIGANTIC. And so gorgeous. It had these huge, orange eyes like a cat's, wings five feet wide, and feet as big as my hands! And sometimes it would nuzzle up against her chin and she'd squeeze that big beautiful bird like it was a baby. She asked for our professors afterward, and said "I'm a Mormon too!" ... What are the chances that the bird lady would be LDS? Small world.
We also met a horse, who was big and black and white, with a long ruffly main and feathered hair over his hooves, and who would ram into you with his head from sheer excitement if you weren't careful. I named him bobby. Bob for short.
And after we'd wandered the farm, I bet you can't guess what we did!!... You got it, hopped back onto the bus. By that time, I was soaked in earnest. The rain hadn't let up all day, and even attempting to blow dry my shoes and socks in the bathroom before we left didn't help.
Not a moment too soon, we reached our far off destination... The land of The Bard, of good old Bill Shakespeare, the one, the only, Stratford-Upon-Avon!
We scattered to our various bed and breakfasts, (Ashley and I heading to the Aiden B&B). We found our adorable hostess, Evan, ready with keys and instructions, and we marched up the stairs to Number 2. We opened the door and found an absolutely delicious room. The long, gauzy curtains matched the wallpaper on the left--big pink flowers on a white background--and there was purple trim around the top of the room. The beds were made up perfectly quaint with two or three attractive throw pillows, and the whole place smelled like a bushel of roses.
I threw my things in a corner, and went to the first item of business... testing the bed. Soft? Check. Bouncy? Check. Perfect? Check.
Next item of business? Find some scissors.
When Ashley tracked down Evan and asked her if we could borrow a pair, she looked at her sceptically and said... "well, as long as you don't cut up the curtains... (?)"... After being assured this was not in our plans, she brought them to our room. I promptly cut off the bottom three inches of my jeans, which had been folded up, and looked as though I'd dragged them through water and sand repeatedly. (Which I had, in fact, done). And then, after a few moments rest, we headed out into Stratford.
The next thing on the list of things to do was definitely to EAT. It was dinner time, and the rather inadequate lunch of crisps and digestives was really starting to wear off. We walked as I navigated, almost pretty sure I knew where we were going. Evan had given us a map, but those things are often little good if you aren't sure where you are or where you're going.
We finally asked a man on the street where he might eat, if he were hungry, and he pointed us in the direction of some pubs and restaurants. We chose the Rose and Crown, which is, (not surprisingly), a popular pub name. I ordered a burger at the bar, and was proud at how quickly I counted out the change... Of course, the bar tender laughed at my obvious smugness over my ability to count out coins.
One thing I love about Europe is that you're liable to be called darling, love, dear, or pet at least 10 times a day. After receiving my food, I went back to the bar to grab a glass of tap water. And the bar tender called me darlin' at least five times while he asked if I wanted ice and a lime. Yes please! I love ice. And limes. And the country where I'm always darlin'. ;)
We got to the RSC theatre 15 minutes before Romeo and Juliet started. Only we didn't, because it actually started 15 minutes earlier than we thought. So... we were right on time. Only... a little late, by the time we got to our seats.
The show was excellent, and the concept was intriguing. Romeo and Juliet were in contemporary clothing, while everyone else was in period dress. This was the case all through the play, until the very end, when the lovers are discovered, dead. At this point, everyone was suddenly in modern dress. And it was as though they had been brought into Romeo and Juliet's world... and perhaps suggest that the story was timeless and could be a part of any place or period.
Mercutio was hilarious. If... inappropriate. But, he had bleached blond hair, so I'll cut him some slack.
After that it was time for BED. We walked back to our Bed and Breakfast, and jumped under the covers. And as we were falling asleep, I couldn't help asking...
"Ashley, does your bed smell like flowers? Cuz mine totally does."
But don't you worry, I got a window seat. And that's all you really need to have a good bus nap. (That and a leather jacket pillow. haha).
After bouncing around for a couple hours and looking silly with my head tilted back at an awkward sleeping-sitting-up angle, (and probably breathing oddly on my dear friend Rachel),I awoke to a very rainy day.
We alighted at Coventry Cathedral, and headed straight for the toilets. They were sort of sketchy and gheto, and the doors didn't actually lock... but when you gotta go, you gotta go. Turns out those were the wrong toilets. OOps. Anyway, Coventry Cathedral is adjacent to St. Michael's Cathedral--or the remains of what used to be St. Michael's Cathedral... a 900 year old cathedral that was bombed in one of the World Wars. (I honestly can't remember which, and for once google is failing me). The old walls and empty windows were gorgeous, especially in the rain. There was one window in particular that caught my attention. It had shards of yellow stained glass still sticking stubbornly in their iron casings, making odd angles
Of course, we got some excellent umbrella pictures, seeing as how is was awfully wet. You know everyone seems to be getting tired of all the "old stuff"... but I just LOVE it! No matter how many castles, and cathedrals, and old towns I've seen... I could never get bored with all that old architecture. Maybe I should have been an architect. It fascinates me.
Anyway, after walking around St. Michaels for a bit, we headed into the warmer, dryer Coventry Cathedral. And boy, ... it didn't didn't meet my expectations. But it didn't fall above or below them either. It... went around them.
The whole thing was very modern in style. Lots of metal. And though the stained glass window montage was beautiful, (despite it's unfamiliar shape and design), the rest was completely... unexpected. They had these giant wooden boards on the wall with scripture quotes etched into them in huge letters... and the glass at the entrance was covered in strange zombie like figures with wings and harps. (I learned later that this represented the resurrection, which made a lot more sense than anything I could come up with).
At any rate, we were all excited to leave when Lancelot started herding us back to the bus. And speaking of herding... I never thought in all my years that even as a college student, the Kindergarten herding laws would still apply. Oh well. At least we don't have to hold hands.
After that it was on to Kennelworth Castle!! Huzzah!
I have to admit, this castle was LIGIT. (And I don't even use that word.) Even though it was pouring rain, and my feet were totally soaked, and my pants were ripped and dirty and sopping wet, it was AMAZING.
The place was a total labyrinth.So many stairways and doorways and passageways and rooms! I spent a good fourty five minutes just wandering on my own, poking my head into old forgotten places... and wondering what they were for and who had lived there, years and years ago. I couldn't help singing and laughing out loud as I ran along the outer wall, and then up the hillside, into the long, wet grass. I admit, I had a momentary balancing issue, and slid all the way down on my rear end... but don't worry, nobody saw. ;) And then I just laughed and laughed at my wet jeans, and put my head back, and stared at the castle above me.
I found what felt like the secret garden...(I love finding openings in the hedge!!)... and I don't think I was actually supposed to be there. But, it's ok. I found my way out eventually. I was just blocked by a hedge and a wall for a while. And I felt like I was having a grand adventure...
During that hour of blissful play, I was transported to much younger days... when Riley and I would play in the trees and the bushes, make forts and houses. When we collected things, like bottles and keys. When we had special powers, and a million enemieswe could always fight with... against whom we would always win. For an hour, I played pretend. And I wished my dear friend could be there too.
There were sword fighting lessons, and helmets, and chainmail. And we all had a laugh in our ridiculous outfits.
And then, it was time to go.
We piled back onto the bus, too soon. And began driving, once again. This time towards Anne Hathaway's cottage. (Not THAT Anne Hathaway, the other one. You know, William's wife. The bard.)...
I admit it was becoming more miserable, as my feet stayed wet and got colder. But the site was interesting... and the bench whereon William sat too woo his Anne was still there, which, (allegedly), will tell you how good your love life will be, based on whether or not ir squeeks when you sit down.
I squeeked.:P
There was also a statue garden, with very strange figures from most of Shakespeare's more popular works. And there was even a giant maze made of hedges in the middle! We all ran around inside of it with our umbrellas, pretending it was the Tri-Wizard Tournament, laughing a lot, and getting our shoes rather muddy.
And then it was time to hop on the bus again. I tell you, the getting on and off and on and off again... it was becoming a hassle.
Our last stop of the day was the Mary Arden Farm. (I honestly can't remember if she was his mother, or some other distant relative. All the Shakespeare sites sort of melted together into one in my brain...) But it was very cool. It was an actual Victorian style farm, still in working condition, with people in dresses milking cows and feeding chickens! (Sounds like fun, right? Especially when it's raining...)
We saw a performance from the falconry... the falconness? The Falcon lady? Well, at any rate, the lady who trained the birds was there. She showed us first a little white owl who was supposed to fly silently, (because all owls do), but instead he just screached and screached and screached some more.
Then she brought out a European Eagle Owl named Tes, and it was GIGANTIC. And so gorgeous. It had these huge, orange eyes like a cat's, wings five feet wide, and feet as big as my hands! And sometimes it would nuzzle up against her chin and she'd squeeze that big beautiful bird like it was a baby. She asked for our professors afterward, and said "I'm a Mormon too!" ... What are the chances that the bird lady would be LDS? Small world.
We also met a horse, who was big and black and white, with a long ruffly main and feathered hair over his hooves, and who would ram into you with his head from sheer excitement if you weren't careful. I named him bobby. Bob for short.
And after we'd wandered the farm, I bet you can't guess what we did!!... You got it, hopped back onto the bus. By that time, I was soaked in earnest. The rain hadn't let up all day, and even attempting to blow dry my shoes and socks in the bathroom before we left didn't help.
Not a moment too soon, we reached our far off destination... The land of The Bard, of good old Bill Shakespeare, the one, the only, Stratford-Upon-Avon!
We scattered to our various bed and breakfasts, (Ashley and I heading to the Aiden B&B). We found our adorable hostess, Evan, ready with keys and instructions, and we marched up the stairs to Number 2. We opened the door and found an absolutely delicious room. The long, gauzy curtains matched the wallpaper on the left--big pink flowers on a white background--and there was purple trim around the top of the room. The beds were made up perfectly quaint with two or three attractive throw pillows, and the whole place smelled like a bushel of roses.
I threw my things in a corner, and went to the first item of business... testing the bed. Soft? Check. Bouncy? Check. Perfect? Check.
Next item of business? Find some scissors.
When Ashley tracked down Evan and asked her if we could borrow a pair, she looked at her sceptically and said... "well, as long as you don't cut up the curtains... (?)"... After being assured this was not in our plans, she brought them to our room. I promptly cut off the bottom three inches of my jeans, which had been folded up, and looked as though I'd dragged them through water and sand repeatedly. (Which I had, in fact, done). And then, after a few moments rest, we headed out into Stratford.
The next thing on the list of things to do was definitely to EAT. It was dinner time, and the rather inadequate lunch of crisps and digestives was really starting to wear off. We walked as I navigated, almost pretty sure I knew where we were going. Evan had given us a map, but those things are often little good if you aren't sure where you are or where you're going.
We finally asked a man on the street where he might eat, if he were hungry, and he pointed us in the direction of some pubs and restaurants. We chose the Rose and Crown, which is, (not surprisingly), a popular pub name. I ordered a burger at the bar, and was proud at how quickly I counted out the change... Of course, the bar tender laughed at my obvious smugness over my ability to count out coins.
One thing I love about Europe is that you're liable to be called darling, love, dear, or pet at least 10 times a day. After receiving my food, I went back to the bar to grab a glass of tap water. And the bar tender called me darlin' at least five times while he asked if I wanted ice and a lime. Yes please! I love ice. And limes. And the country where I'm always darlin'. ;)
We got to the RSC theatre 15 minutes before Romeo and Juliet started. Only we didn't, because it actually started 15 minutes earlier than we thought. So... we were right on time. Only... a little late, by the time we got to our seats.
The show was excellent, and the concept was intriguing. Romeo and Juliet were in contemporary clothing, while everyone else was in period dress. This was the case all through the play, until the very end, when the lovers are discovered, dead. At this point, everyone was suddenly in modern dress. And it was as though they had been brought into Romeo and Juliet's world... and perhaps suggest that the story was timeless and could be a part of any place or period.
Mercutio was hilarious. If... inappropriate. But, he had bleached blond hair, so I'll cut him some slack.
After that it was time for BED. We walked back to our Bed and Breakfast, and jumped under the covers. And as we were falling asleep, I couldn't help asking...
"Ashley, does your bed smell like flowers? Cuz mine totally does."
5.31.2010
Day 34: A Day in The Life
Today I had to buckle down and get things done. With the Stratford trip this week, and homework piling up, and an empty refrigerator,I dedicated the day to being TOTALLY productive.
So, after class, I went straight to metrogate, pulled out my computer and my complete works, and started typing.Apparently I wasn't the only one with this idea, because the pc lab was full of people from the program with The Tempest on their laps. I wrote the paper in an hour flat, printed it, and headed home.
And on the way, I ran into Katie! Lugging her suitcase full of dirty clothes to do some laundry... so I handed her the paper, and kicked up my heals because I was rid of it!
The stretch home from metrogate is very familiar these days. There are towering trees without leaves lining the walk, and many cars parked in rows down the middle of the street. The houses on the left are all white faced, with black doors, some with a little black and white checked tile on the stairs. And the houses on the right are all different--some red, some white, and still others a combination of the two, striped, or trimmed in either color. There are wrought iron gates and fences, all intricate and different, and potted plants and ivy on the steps.And the scaffolding thats covered one house since the beginning of the trip is slowly disappearing.
Once at home I had a quick chat with the girls in the commons, and then dropped off my things. I hopped down the stairs to the second floor, poked my head in, and said hello to Rob and Rach, (who'd just come from Tesco, and were settling down to write their papers), and then I headed down High Street Kensington.
The Park on my right side, the many colored flats on my left, I walked past the first bus station, past the gentleman's club, past the stick and bowl restaurant, past two food, news, and wine shops, past the unisex salon, past the Goat Tavern, and the Giraffe, the Pizza Hut, and the McDonalds, the open air flower shop, and on into the strip of clothing stores... H&M, American Apparel, the Top Shop, TK Maxx, Jigsaw, Monsoon, (where this beautiful red ruffly dress in the window always calls my name), and then of course, Whole Foods, which is smack in the middle of all of them... And then past the High Street Tube station, and finally to Tesco.
Grocery shopping is easier now, partly because I know what I like, and partly because I know where it is. You know that the breads are on the left as you walk into the store, and the dairy is at the back. The fruit and vegetables are immediately to your right, and in the middle are the prebaked meals. Downstairs is tricky, but in the far left corner there's the medical/hygeinic stuff, and in the middle are the cookies, crackers, crisps, biscuits, and candy. You've got cereal along the wall near the lift, and jam or nutella right next to it. And then soup and pasta are in a corner in the back.
You get pretty good at walking in, grabbing a basket, navagating the crowd, getting your food, getting in the queue, and getting out. It's usually a good idea to just be quiet when you're shopping. If you don't say anything, they assume you're English, and they treat you better. But as soon as you open your mouth, well... your social status drops WAY down.
I hopped on the number 10 bus with my bag of groceries, and muched on some crunchies I'd bought on sale. Cadbury chocolate covered toffee and corn flakes... the best thing that ever happened to cereal, I think.
And then I hopped off at the Queen's Gate Bus Stop, and J-Walked across the street to the flats. I pulled out my keys, hanging on my BYU landiard, along with a red jump drive and a 50p London telephone booth souvenier keychain... and trudged up the four flights of stairs, getting slower and slower as I reached the top.
I put my groceries in their proper places, in my fridge in the dining room, and then I settled into a couch, with a computer, snacks, and a lot of blogging to do. The commons room is awfully comfortable... always just the right temperature, huge bay windows at one end, and three comfy couches to choose from. I'll put my feet up, look out the window, and fight the urge to fall asleep.
We had planned to make our weekly trek to My Old Dutch, but these plans were foiled due to exhaustion... and, more importantly, a rather lengthy protest outside our flat. Streams of people with signs and blow horns walked up and down High Street Kensington for a good hour. And the police blockades were rather discouraging... So, we opted out of braving the masses (who were adamantly shouting "Free Free Palestine")... Pancakes weren't quite worth the risk.
Instead I ate crisps and cheese and olives. Mom, can we have steak when I come home?
Around 6:00 we left for the Apollo Theatre, to see All My Sons. The space was amazing- we were in the balcony, and it was so vertical in nature that I could have actually reached out and touched the ceiling, if I'd had a hankering to do it. And you felt as though you could fall onto the stage at any moment... But nobody did. ;)
And the best part was the set. It actually looked like someone's backyard, complete with lawn. The grass grew taller around the edges of the furniture in the yard and the edges of the house and trees... and there were a couple of old apple boxes discarded against the stairs, and an old baseball glove forgotton in the weeds. There were weeping willow branches cascading over the white washed house, and a swinging screen door. The set was perfect. And the lighting!! My goodness... It was perfectly warm, like a summers day... and then again perfectly red and orange, casting long shaddows, like a summers sunset... and then again perfectly green and blue and black, like a summers night.
The artistry of the piece was breathtaking. And, I'll admit it, I cried at the end. But so did everyboy else. So I wasn't alone in that.
We walked to the tube station, and I sat wearily as the train bumped along... watching the people around me.
I walked back down High Street Kensington... past all the restaurants and clothing stores... and then I walked up the four flights of stairs, to the fifth floor, at 37 Hyde Park Gate, in the Borough of Kensington, in London, England.
And so ended another day in the life.
So, after class, I went straight to metrogate, pulled out my computer and my complete works, and started typing.Apparently I wasn't the only one with this idea, because the pc lab was full of people from the program with The Tempest on their laps. I wrote the paper in an hour flat, printed it, and headed home.
And on the way, I ran into Katie! Lugging her suitcase full of dirty clothes to do some laundry... so I handed her the paper, and kicked up my heals because I was rid of it!
The stretch home from metrogate is very familiar these days. There are towering trees without leaves lining the walk, and many cars parked in rows down the middle of the street. The houses on the left are all white faced, with black doors, some with a little black and white checked tile on the stairs. And the houses on the right are all different--some red, some white, and still others a combination of the two, striped, or trimmed in either color. There are wrought iron gates and fences, all intricate and different, and potted plants and ivy on the steps.And the scaffolding thats covered one house since the beginning of the trip is slowly disappearing.
Once at home I had a quick chat with the girls in the commons, and then dropped off my things. I hopped down the stairs to the second floor, poked my head in, and said hello to Rob and Rach, (who'd just come from Tesco, and were settling down to write their papers), and then I headed down High Street Kensington.
The Park on my right side, the many colored flats on my left, I walked past the first bus station, past the gentleman's club, past the stick and bowl restaurant, past two food, news, and wine shops, past the unisex salon, past the Goat Tavern, and the Giraffe, the Pizza Hut, and the McDonalds, the open air flower shop, and on into the strip of clothing stores... H&M, American Apparel, the Top Shop, TK Maxx, Jigsaw, Monsoon, (where this beautiful red ruffly dress in the window always calls my name), and then of course, Whole Foods, which is smack in the middle of all of them... And then past the High Street Tube station, and finally to Tesco.
Grocery shopping is easier now, partly because I know what I like, and partly because I know where it is. You know that the breads are on the left as you walk into the store, and the dairy is at the back. The fruit and vegetables are immediately to your right, and in the middle are the prebaked meals. Downstairs is tricky, but in the far left corner there's the medical/hygeinic stuff, and in the middle are the cookies, crackers, crisps, biscuits, and candy. You've got cereal along the wall near the lift, and jam or nutella right next to it. And then soup and pasta are in a corner in the back.
You get pretty good at walking in, grabbing a basket, navagating the crowd, getting your food, getting in the queue, and getting out. It's usually a good idea to just be quiet when you're shopping. If you don't say anything, they assume you're English, and they treat you better. But as soon as you open your mouth, well... your social status drops WAY down.
I hopped on the number 10 bus with my bag of groceries, and muched on some crunchies I'd bought on sale. Cadbury chocolate covered toffee and corn flakes... the best thing that ever happened to cereal, I think.
And then I hopped off at the Queen's Gate Bus Stop, and J-Walked across the street to the flats. I pulled out my keys, hanging on my BYU landiard, along with a red jump drive and a 50p London telephone booth souvenier keychain... and trudged up the four flights of stairs, getting slower and slower as I reached the top.
I put my groceries in their proper places, in my fridge in the dining room, and then I settled into a couch, with a computer, snacks, and a lot of blogging to do. The commons room is awfully comfortable... always just the right temperature, huge bay windows at one end, and three comfy couches to choose from. I'll put my feet up, look out the window, and fight the urge to fall asleep.
We had planned to make our weekly trek to My Old Dutch, but these plans were foiled due to exhaustion... and, more importantly, a rather lengthy protest outside our flat. Streams of people with signs and blow horns walked up and down High Street Kensington for a good hour. And the police blockades were rather discouraging... So, we opted out of braving the masses (who were adamantly shouting "Free Free Palestine")... Pancakes weren't quite worth the risk.
Instead I ate crisps and cheese and olives. Mom, can we have steak when I come home?
Around 6:00 we left for the Apollo Theatre, to see All My Sons. The space was amazing- we were in the balcony, and it was so vertical in nature that I could have actually reached out and touched the ceiling, if I'd had a hankering to do it. And you felt as though you could fall onto the stage at any moment... But nobody did. ;)
And the best part was the set. It actually looked like someone's backyard, complete with lawn. The grass grew taller around the edges of the furniture in the yard and the edges of the house and trees... and there were a couple of old apple boxes discarded against the stairs, and an old baseball glove forgotton in the weeds. There were weeping willow branches cascading over the white washed house, and a swinging screen door. The set was perfect. And the lighting!! My goodness... It was perfectly warm, like a summers day... and then again perfectly red and orange, casting long shaddows, like a summers sunset... and then again perfectly green and blue and black, like a summers night.
The artistry of the piece was breathtaking. And, I'll admit it, I cried at the end. But so did everyboy else. So I wasn't alone in that.
We walked to the tube station, and I sat wearily as the train bumped along... watching the people around me.
I walked back down High Street Kensington... past all the restaurants and clothing stores... and then I walked up the four flights of stairs, to the fifth floor, at 37 Hyde Park Gate, in the Borough of Kensington, in London, England.
And so ended another day in the life.
5.30.2010
Day 33: There is somebody I'm longing to see...
I hope that he turns out to be
someone who'll watch over me... I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood.
I know I could always be good To one who'll watch over me...
someone who'll watch over me... I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood.
I know I could always be good To one who'll watch over me...
This song was stuck in my head all morning... I kept humming it, and singing little snatches... but I couldn't remember any of the words! Or the actual tune, for that matter. It was just floating around on my lips, in my mind, driving me mad, because I knew I loved it! If I could only remember the darn thing! I just couldn't put my finger on the song.
I woke up around 7:30 and began working on my talk for sacrament meeting. I've never given a 10 to 15 minute talk before today, and I was a little on the nervous side. But did you know that the church website has absolutely amazing resources for that sort of thing? All you have to do is click on the "prepare a talk" tab, and you're golden! Anyway, I worked on that, and hummed little pieces of the song I couldn't remember.
"da da da da da da, doo doo, da da... "
I ate breakfast-- some cereal and toast with jam-- and continued singing:
I went back to my talk... and hummed some more.
"da da da da da da, doo doo, da da... "
I jumped in the shower... and tried to think of another song I actually knew, but I just kept going back to that same tune.
***
On the tube I read through some old journal entries, from just before I left for London. It was interesting to see how I've grown. Small things, mostly. I'm not afraid of airports anymore. And I've come to appreciate life back home... the every day, in and out, boring, same old same old, life. This town is so busy, so full of things to do, you wear yourself out just deciding what to do with yourself! And it will be so nice to know how to cross the street again.
The Victoria line was quick today, so Miriam and I got off at Walthamstow Station and to the chapel with plenty of time to put a musical number together. (Ha. Yeah). A lot of good that extra week did us! We decided to sing, "There is Sunshine in My Soul Today". Happy, upbeat, and easy! Miriam sang soprano, and I sang soprano, alto, and tenor... (though not all at once). Miraculously, it came together. Thanks in great part to Debbie's excellent piano skills. THANK YOU Debbie. ;)
The talk went very well, actually... And afterward our adorable Bishop told me he was very impressed. And that my talk had shown great maturity, and that he was touched by what I had said. (Hooray! ...It is always good to get a hand shake and a heartfelt thank you). And the song went just swimmingly as well...
The Victoria line was quick today, so Miriam and I got off at Walthamstow Station and to the chapel with plenty of time to put a musical number together. (Ha. Yeah). A lot of good that extra week did us! We decided to sing, "There is Sunshine in My Soul Today". Happy, upbeat, and easy! Miriam sang soprano, and I sang soprano, alto, and tenor... (though not all at once). Miraculously, it came together. Thanks in great part to Debbie's excellent piano skills. THANK YOU Debbie. ;)
The talk went very well, actually... And afterward our adorable Bishop told me he was very impressed. And that my talk had shown great maturity, and that he was touched by what I had said. (Hooray! ...It is always good to get a hand shake and a heartfelt thank you). And the song went just swimmingly as well...
Primary, on the otherhand, was a little bit of a mess...
Today I realized that every time I thought my parents were being "mean", they were really just doing me a favor. So, thank you mom and dad! Thank you for yelling every now and then, and saying "no"... because, my GOODNESS... some of those kids need to learn how to take "no" for an answer!
... "No, Sean! You may not hit Holly!"
... "No, Merchant! You may not put chalk on your face!"
... "No, John! You may not eat your scriptures!"
... "No, Tiko! You may not run around the room screaming about how you hate the song Book of Mormon Stories!"
... "No!!!..."
Luckily I got to hide behind the piano and play Do as I'm Doing... over and over again... as Adam bawled, and Tiko yelled, and the poor primary president tried to keep the rest singing.
Yes, well... we have our off weeks....
I was the impromptu substitute for the 8-11 year olds sunday school class. You see, their teacher Esmerelda failed to mention that she was getting married... and that she wouldn't be around to teach anymore...
I entertained the idea of created a lesson on the spot, and thought better of it... and instead, we invited Merchant, Tiko, Nathan, Jemma, Jade, and Christina to ask whatever questions they had, about anything they liked.
Well, for fourty five minutes, we sat and talked with those nine and ten year olds about life... music, America, school, food, and any number of other things. And for the first time, Nathan became involved and animated in class... we talked with him about Harry Potter, and movies, and he just lit up all over. Jemma, who usually sat quietly in the corner, became excited over Taylor Swift, and other artists. Jade explained the school system in the UK, (which confused us to no end), and we described the things we'd done in high school, and college. For the first time, I felt as though they wanted to be friends. As though we were getting somewhere! And it was the best 45 minutes I've spent in that ward.
To end the class, we sat on the floor and played telephone. (Only here they call it Chinese Whispers). And we laughed ourselves silly, and had a grand old time. And I'm sure that will be one of my favorite memories from these last few weeks... playing with my Primary kids... and being their friend.
... The steps of Saint Pauls Cathedral are always covered with people... sitting, enjoying the weather, or just having a rest. And as we walked up them, we smiled triumphantly, knowing we were right on time to see the Evensong. ...
We sat down and listened to the organ, sounding ominous and strange in the high vaulted ceilings, and watched the funny little man direct the onlookers. He had dark black hair, and a thin pointy face. His lips pursed in a mousish manner, and he stepped on his toes, as though he were stepping on very small stones. He'd hop, from one place to another, shh-ing, and smiling, and blinking his eyes. And every now and then he'd stand very still, and importantly, and nod his head as though he knew something nobody else could ever know.
The organ faded, and we stirred in our seats expectantly, as the arms on the clock hit 5:00pm. But much to our surprise, the people surrounding us began to stand and exit slowly... and then we heard the usher say that was the end of the organ concert, and Mass would be at 6:00. Well... oops.
Turns out Evensong is at 5:00 on WEEKDAYS, but 3:00 on weekends. And so, we sat and stayed for Mass.
Saint Pauls has a surprisingly small amount of stained glass. It's mostly stone and light and space. The far end has lots of gold and green and purple and red--all colors of the liturgical calendar. And there is a beautiful, sprawling, black and white checkered tile floor. Th huge dome above you reveals a small dome above IT, and the sun sends a sharp ray of light through just one window at a time, leaving a streak across the emptyness above you. And the mosaics shimmer and dance as the light catches on the edges of each tiny tile. There are chandaliers, and trees outside the windows, and individually carved flowers on the high ceiling, and round all the high, sloping walls...
And during Mass, smoke pours out of a bowl on a metal pillar, adding a haze to the air, like gauze on your eyes...
It was an interesting experience, to be sure. We stood, and sat, and stood again. And listened to the words of the priest in cream and pink robes. And at one point, when we were invited to "give a sign of peace" to our neighbors, we turned and gave hugs and handshakes all around.
After Mass, we headed home. But not before walking past the London Eye, and the Thames, and across the bridge. ... I couldn't help it! It was oh, such a glorious day! Such a fabulously blue and sunny day! And the Thames was so lovely, and the sky was so pretty, and the breeze was so soft... the only flaw was all the tourists, who were, unfortunately, everywhere.
I used a pay to pee at Gloucester, because everyone else was too chicken, and we wanted to try it, at least once!
And then I ate some dinner, (for once!)... and I don't think I've ever been so full on a Sunday here.
***
I finally found the words to the song, and the tune, for that matter, (with the help of Annalee). We figured I'd heard it first on the movie Fame, and somehow, it just stuck in my head all these months, and finally resurfaced this fine Sunday morning. Of course, you'll never guess who sang it first... Ella Fitzgerald. :) I'm so predictable.
But I want all of you to know that I do miss you dearly. This has been a wonderful, amazing adventure... But it just isn't the same without you. And I can't wait to come home.
But I want all of you to know that I do miss you dearly. This has been a wonderful, amazing adventure... But it just isn't the same without you. And I can't wait to come home.
There is somebody I'm longing to see...
I hope that he turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me...
Someone who'll watch over me...
Day 32: Being a Londoner
Today was the second adventure in Portobello Road, and heavens to Betsy, did I get WET! It was only drizzling when we left, but by the time I'd made it halfway to the booth with the one pound scarves it was really coming down. Unfortunately the brelly I purchased my first week here was utterly useless, and broke the second time I used it. (Though I had attempted once or twice to carry it at the top when it was raining so it wouldn't collapse, I gave that up quickly, and stopped bringing it altogether). So, I was quite forced to buy another. I hopped into a tourist shop and bought a cheap union jack brelly at the front for three pounds, and headed back into the pouring rain.
I am convinced that Portobello Road actually contains magical properties. Yes, I may be biased or brain washed because of Bed Knobs and Broom Sticks, but I tell you, no matter WHAT you are looking for... no matter HOW specific... you can always find it there.
I've been looking for plain gold earrings since about the second week here. No designs, no paint, so intricate holes... Just plain, solid, gold, teardrop shaped earrings. And heck if I could find them anywhere! We looked everywhere! Every day Rob would say, "today we're going to find your earings moo!" And every day our plans were frustrated. And then, I took a second trip to Portobello Road...
Well, I'm sure you can guess what happened. Just like my vintage leather side satchel, there they were, all of a sudden... the PERFECT earrings... just waiting for me to stumble upon them. And they were only 3 pounds!!
That's twice now that Portobello Road has fulfilled my little girl dreams!... how I will miss it when I'm gone!
On the way out I grabbed falafal for lunch... and my goodness, that was the BEST falafal I've had yet. Roasted eggplant, and hummus, and olives... MMM! So good.
Only trouble was, I had lost my dear friends Robyn and Rachel... and I didn't exactly know where the National Theatre was--which was where we needed to be in half an hour. So, I chewed on my falafal, and stopped some nice looking coppers to ask for directions... they whipped out their maps, and just as they sat debating whether I should go to embankment or some other station, Rob and Chach appeared! And all was well.
We had a backstage tour of the place, and it was excellent fun... even though we were a little on the late side, and sort of winded. Walking through the scene shops and prop shops and backstage areas made me think of home. It made me think of all the hours I spent rehearsing, and playing, and working, and laughing, and sweating in other theatres... It made me miss the stage.
I was able to grab a quick drink of water before the matinee, which was a very good thing, seeing as how I was totally parched. They don't believe in drinking fountains here. So it can be tricky business, staying hydrated. But, se la vi. (How on earth do you spell that anyway?) ...
The matinee of London Assurance was delightful. And it certainly helped that Miriam had cadbury caramels shoved in her bag to share... mmmmm... I don't know why all their chocolate is better than ours, but it isn't fair. And I shan't ever want to eat chocolate again, in the states. Even cadbury. Because it isn't the same.
One of the members of the cast played Roland in a Knights Tale, and one of the leading ladies played Aunt Petunia in Harry Potter. And she was DANG funny. Everything she did made you laugh... She could sit and do nothing, and you would laugh. Believe me. Miriam and I... we laughed. A lot.
After the show, Rob and I walked the streets near Embankment and Charring Cross station... feeling quite at home. We stopped off at Cranberry's, to get a few sweets--yogurt covered coconut, dried mango, and chocolate covered nuts... We watched people. We talked. We wandered up and down, enjoying the foggy day in London Towne, and as we sauntered slowly in our leather jackets, I felt like a Londoner.
It was a good feeling. Just... living.
We stumbled upon a place called the Somerset House, and knew it must be famous, but couldn't think why... There was a bride with a wedding party, getting ready to leave in an old red minicooper, covered in white streamers...
We stumbled upon a man in a dress...
We didn't QUITE stumble upon an open bar for dinner, as Lauren (Rob's sister) and her friend took us there. And for once, I didn't worry about how to order or whether I looked silly or out of place. We sat on the couches and ate a good meal. I watched people live their lives, talk to their friends, drink their beer... and wondered what they would do with their life...
And then I went home, and got in bed at 10:00.
Being a Londoner is exhausting. ;) Believe me. I know.
I am convinced that Portobello Road actually contains magical properties. Yes, I may be biased or brain washed because of Bed Knobs and Broom Sticks, but I tell you, no matter WHAT you are looking for... no matter HOW specific... you can always find it there.
I've been looking for plain gold earrings since about the second week here. No designs, no paint, so intricate holes... Just plain, solid, gold, teardrop shaped earrings. And heck if I could find them anywhere! We looked everywhere! Every day Rob would say, "today we're going to find your earings moo!" And every day our plans were frustrated. And then, I took a second trip to Portobello Road...
Well, I'm sure you can guess what happened. Just like my vintage leather side satchel, there they were, all of a sudden... the PERFECT earrings... just waiting for me to stumble upon them. And they were only 3 pounds!!
That's twice now that Portobello Road has fulfilled my little girl dreams!... how I will miss it when I'm gone!
On the way out I grabbed falafal for lunch... and my goodness, that was the BEST falafal I've had yet. Roasted eggplant, and hummus, and olives... MMM! So good.
Only trouble was, I had lost my dear friends Robyn and Rachel... and I didn't exactly know where the National Theatre was--which was where we needed to be in half an hour. So, I chewed on my falafal, and stopped some nice looking coppers to ask for directions... they whipped out their maps, and just as they sat debating whether I should go to embankment or some other station, Rob and Chach appeared! And all was well.
We had a backstage tour of the place, and it was excellent fun... even though we were a little on the late side, and sort of winded. Walking through the scene shops and prop shops and backstage areas made me think of home. It made me think of all the hours I spent rehearsing, and playing, and working, and laughing, and sweating in other theatres... It made me miss the stage.
I was able to grab a quick drink of water before the matinee, which was a very good thing, seeing as how I was totally parched. They don't believe in drinking fountains here. So it can be tricky business, staying hydrated. But, se la vi. (How on earth do you spell that anyway?) ...
The matinee of London Assurance was delightful. And it certainly helped that Miriam had cadbury caramels shoved in her bag to share... mmmmm... I don't know why all their chocolate is better than ours, but it isn't fair. And I shan't ever want to eat chocolate again, in the states. Even cadbury. Because it isn't the same.
One of the members of the cast played Roland in a Knights Tale, and one of the leading ladies played Aunt Petunia in Harry Potter. And she was DANG funny. Everything she did made you laugh... She could sit and do nothing, and you would laugh. Believe me. Miriam and I... we laughed. A lot.
After the show, Rob and I walked the streets near Embankment and Charring Cross station... feeling quite at home. We stopped off at Cranberry's, to get a few sweets--yogurt covered coconut, dried mango, and chocolate covered nuts... We watched people. We talked. We wandered up and down, enjoying the foggy day in London Towne, and as we sauntered slowly in our leather jackets, I felt like a Londoner.
It was a good feeling. Just... living.
We stumbled upon a place called the Somerset House, and knew it must be famous, but couldn't think why... There was a bride with a wedding party, getting ready to leave in an old red minicooper, covered in white streamers...
We stumbled upon a man in a dress...
We didn't QUITE stumble upon an open bar for dinner, as Lauren (Rob's sister) and her friend took us there. And for once, I didn't worry about how to order or whether I looked silly or out of place. We sat on the couches and ate a good meal. I watched people live their lives, talk to their friends, drink their beer... and wondered what they would do with their life...
And then I went home, and got in bed at 10:00.
Being a Londoner is exhausting. ;) Believe me. I know.
5.29.2010
Day 31: Afternoon Tea and Tinkerbell
Today Robyn and I got up bright and early... (ahem, 10:00.... )... and headed to Primark! I don't know that I've discussed Primark much, if at all, but here's a quick recap: Primark=English Walmart, (only... lower priced, better quality, and no food or electronics... just clothes).
Primark just so happens to be the best place in London if you're a poor college student with a very limited wardrobe and a relatively limited residency. The stuff is cheap and cute, and if you don't love it, you don't have to feel badly about tossing it when you come home... (and this is helpful seeing as how your luggage can't be over 50 pounds, or whatever the weight requirement is).
However, there is one downside to this glorious store. It is in a state of absolute CHAOS whenever you go. And if you go on the weekend, well, then you're really in for it. The store actually looks as though it's being looted. (And to be honest, I'm sure it is being looted. I can't imagine that there aren't at least a few items that walk out of the doors unpaid for). At any rate, it took a little longer than originally anticipated. And this sad fact, combined with our HUGE underestimation of the size of Hyde Park, we were rather late for our afternooon tea!
Yes, afternoon tea. What a lovely thing that is! I believe that this is one thing that the English have absolutely right, and the Americans have absolutely wrong. Sitting down at two or three with a good cup of tea, jam and biscuits, finger sandwiches, and eclairs is quite possible the BEST thing you could ever do with your time at that particular hour. You are able to take a moment to BREATHE, just at the busiest time of day... And then begin again, more refreshed.
Yes, afternoon tea at the Orangerie was a huge success. We girls were absolutely giddy, all dressed up and straight backed and pinky extended. It was rather reminiscent of my 5th birthday party, which was, indeed, the best birthday party of all time. I had a princess dress, played croquet, and had tea and crumpets with all my little girl friends. What could honestly be better? I ordered fresh mint leaf tea, which was absolutely delicious. And just at our table there was cinnamon, orange, rosehip and hibiscus tea to boot! (Which, of course, I took the liberty of sampling).
Unfortunately we looked rather ridiculous, counting out our change at the end, and failing miserably because noone seems quite able to master the coinage in this silly town. There are just too many sizes and shapes and numbers to keep track of. But we were successful... eventually. And managed to escape relatively unscathed by the glares of high nosed Englishmen and women. ;)
There was a ten or eleven year old boy sitting next to me on the tube all decked out in his football garb, (soccer, in the states), and it made me miss home. Especially my darling brothers... who I beleive deserve a shout out!... Zander, you're my favorite little stud in the world! Dexter, I can't wait to come home and give you a hug! Riley, I wish you could be here to play in the castles with me! ... I love you all!!!
Anyway, I suppose another reason I might be thinking of you is because I saw Peter Pan tonight. (Not the real Peter Pan, but the show Peter Pan)... It was absolutely phenominal. I mean, WOW. One of the best shows I've seen in London.
It was over at the Barbican Center, and the space in and of itself was fantastic. The theatre is very modern, and gorgeous in its own way... and it lent itself to the fantasy and imagination of the piece. I could have simply sat and looked at the set, it was so beautiful. And the LIGHTING! ... (sigh)... All those reds and greens and blues and purples... It was really just a beautiful piece of art on the stage. And there was one underwater scene that absolutely took my breath away, because it was so PRETTY, and so real...
But it was also a very intriguing interpretation. It was set in Scotland, with traditional Scotish music, and history woven in. Hook even wore a black kilt! (I admit I'm a sucker for anything
Scotish... I mean the accents alone pretty much killed me...) But the whole thing had this dimension of ... reality. It was uncanny. And it was not just a happy little disney fairytale. Which I very much appreciated.
Tink was an actual ball of fire that they somehow tossed around the stage. And people appeared in beds, where there were only sheets before. And later, when we asked how these illusions were performed, they wouldn't tell us! (Apparently they'd been sworn to secrecy!)
Well, at any rate, I loved it. And I think I shall be very disappointed if I ever see Peter Pan again without Kilts, Bagpipes, and gruff Scotish "R's"...! ;)
Primark just so happens to be the best place in London if you're a poor college student with a very limited wardrobe and a relatively limited residency. The stuff is cheap and cute, and if you don't love it, you don't have to feel badly about tossing it when you come home... (and this is helpful seeing as how your luggage can't be over 50 pounds, or whatever the weight requirement is).
However, there is one downside to this glorious store. It is in a state of absolute CHAOS whenever you go. And if you go on the weekend, well, then you're really in for it. The store actually looks as though it's being looted. (And to be honest, I'm sure it is being looted. I can't imagine that there aren't at least a few items that walk out of the doors unpaid for). At any rate, it took a little longer than originally anticipated. And this sad fact, combined with our HUGE underestimation of the size of Hyde Park, we were rather late for our afternooon tea!
Yes, afternoon tea. What a lovely thing that is! I believe that this is one thing that the English have absolutely right, and the Americans have absolutely wrong. Sitting down at two or three with a good cup of tea, jam and biscuits, finger sandwiches, and eclairs is quite possible the BEST thing you could ever do with your time at that particular hour. You are able to take a moment to BREATHE, just at the busiest time of day... And then begin again, more refreshed.
Yes, afternoon tea at the Orangerie was a huge success. We girls were absolutely giddy, all dressed up and straight backed and pinky extended. It was rather reminiscent of my 5th birthday party, which was, indeed, the best birthday party of all time. I had a princess dress, played croquet, and had tea and crumpets with all my little girl friends. What could honestly be better? I ordered fresh mint leaf tea, which was absolutely delicious. And just at our table there was cinnamon, orange, rosehip and hibiscus tea to boot! (Which, of course, I took the liberty of sampling).
Unfortunately we looked rather ridiculous, counting out our change at the end, and failing miserably because noone seems quite able to master the coinage in this silly town. There are just too many sizes and shapes and numbers to keep track of. But we were successful... eventually. And managed to escape relatively unscathed by the glares of high nosed Englishmen and women. ;)
There was a ten or eleven year old boy sitting next to me on the tube all decked out in his football garb, (soccer, in the states), and it made me miss home. Especially my darling brothers... who I beleive deserve a shout out!... Zander, you're my favorite little stud in the world! Dexter, I can't wait to come home and give you a hug! Riley, I wish you could be here to play in the castles with me! ... I love you all!!!
Anyway, I suppose another reason I might be thinking of you is because I saw Peter Pan tonight. (Not the real Peter Pan, but the show Peter Pan)... It was absolutely phenominal. I mean, WOW. One of the best shows I've seen in London.
It was over at the Barbican Center, and the space in and of itself was fantastic. The theatre is very modern, and gorgeous in its own way... and it lent itself to the fantasy and imagination of the piece. I could have simply sat and looked at the set, it was so beautiful. And the LIGHTING! ... (sigh)... All those reds and greens and blues and purples... It was really just a beautiful piece of art on the stage. And there was one underwater scene that absolutely took my breath away, because it was so PRETTY, and so real...
But it was also a very intriguing interpretation. It was set in Scotland, with traditional Scotish music, and history woven in. Hook even wore a black kilt! (I admit I'm a sucker for anything
Scotish... I mean the accents alone pretty much killed me...) But the whole thing had this dimension of ... reality. It was uncanny. And it was not just a happy little disney fairytale. Which I very much appreciated.
Tink was an actual ball of fire that they somehow tossed around the stage. And people appeared in beds, where there were only sheets before. And later, when we asked how these illusions were performed, they wouldn't tell us! (Apparently they'd been sworn to secrecy!)
Well, at any rate, I loved it. And I think I shall be very disappointed if I ever see Peter Pan again without Kilts, Bagpipes, and gruff Scotish "R's"...! ;)
5.27.2010
Day 30: You've got a friend...
Today the stars were against us... the tube was running slow, the train was delayed... we waited at the station for a good fourty five minutes, and when we finally hopped aboard, we had to get off again, due to the fact that it was actually the wrong train. But, no matter, I had a play to read! And friends to keep me company.
You know, this was my first time on a London train. As mr. Brower would say, they are "smooth like buttah!"... at least in comparison to the jostling experience you get on the tube.
Anyway, it was well worth the travel time, the sitting time, the waiting time, and the reading time... we alighted at Shoreham Station, and headed out on our country walk!
The English countryside was breathtaking from a tour bus window. ... But that view was nothing compared to what I saw as I spent the day walking through it. Somehow the addition of the cool morning air, the sound of birds, the water in a brook, and wind in your eyes, made a world of difference.
We stopped first at a small church cemetary. The headstones covered in lichen and moss, all grey and green and yellow... and the grass growing wild and thick. The wooden walls of the little church were old and cracking, and the trees all swayed silently to some unheard rhythm in the air.
For the first time in the last month, I could breath! You never realize how dirty the air is, until you get outside it. And let me tell you, the air in good old London Town is outrageously difficult to breath... But not out there, in the country. It's beautiful... and clear, and clean.
We walked out of the churchyard, and onto a little path. It led us slowly past rolling hills filled with tall, wet grass, and blue, burning skies. You'd see a row of poplars going off at an angle in the distance, separating this field from that, or perhaps standing sentinel over a small country lane. And then there'd be one lone tree: big enough, thick enough, that you could spend forever reading a book at its base. Branches spread low over the earth. It would stand there, dozing in the bluish, foggy mist. And I'd watch, and wonder how many picnics it had sheltered, or how many children had skinned their knees trying to scurry up its trunk.
There came a break in the endless hedge on our right, and the path led us through the opening. The clouds billowed and bloomed above me, and the earth swelled up and down like waves, and it was so wet, and quiet, and filled with sound. There was a little white bird that flew from one tree to another. And great stone bridges that crossed the stream we followed from time to time. Brick walls, yellow and red and brown and green and purple, all at once: as though daring a rainbow or a painter's pallet to rival them in color, or texture, or interest.
We stopped at a place called the "Hop Stop". Did you know that a "Hop" is actually the part of the grain that is used to make Beer? Well, it is. And I saw them. Though I'm sure it would have been more interesting if I drank every now and again. ;) Though part Brewery, the Hop Stop was also a Lavender Farm. They sold lavender bread, lavender cookies, lavender ice cream, and lavender extract. We had a hay day, sharing our purchases, and trying new things...
A home made HoHo--which was gigantic and covered in sugar.
Victorian Lemonade--which contains only .5% alcohol! ;)
Ginger Beer--which burns your throat on the way down.
Cheese Straws--which were crispy and delicious.
Pistachio Ice cream! Lavender ice cream! Rum cake! English Crisps! Dried butter beans! And lavender shortbread!
It was one of the few times I've really felt like all of us were... friends. Talking and laughing and sharing and eating. Spending the day in the English Countryside.
Later as we continued our walk, we came across some horses grazing near the road. There was one little foal in particular, who was getting a lot of attention, and giving no notice. Everyone sat there and clucked and called, but to no avail. I walked up, and said "hello! is your name Joey?", and his little head shot up, and he walked straight to my beckoning fingers. Well, we laughed quite a lot at that. It was almost an exact reproduction of a scene in War Horse, where Albert names his horse. Anyway, I guess that means I'm Albert.... hmm... haha
We visited an Archaelogical site for some Roman Ruins... which were quite educational. But the best part was the lift. (Jill and I discovered it, and had a party). See, you had to push the button the whole time, and if you stopped, the lift stopped. So you could be stuck, halfway between floors, and since it was glass, you could see into both the one below, and the one abve. It was totally AWESOME.
Unfortunately Lancelot gave us a parental glare.
Anyway, after that, a lot of the group headed back to the train. But a small bunch of us went on to see some castle ruins. And, of course, I'm always up for castles.
We jumped around for a while, exploring the ancient walls... And then we all slowly congregated in a loose circle in the shade, some sitting on the grass, some leaning aginst the stone, all talking and laughing. The sun was shining, and the sky was blue, and we were just... basking in the English Countryside, without a care in the world. We played some games, quoted some movies, and even made our own! (A new episode of "Sassy Gay Friend", starring Christian and Paige!)...
It was so wonderful to just sit there, and know that we were friends. I mean, REALLY friends. Even if we didn't know a lot about each other. Even if we hadn't spent more than a month in one another's company. We were friends.
We took the train home and chatted the whole way. We played a ridiculous game at the station, where you say a word, and the other person has to say it backwards immediately, without thinking about it. (Most of the time your replies make absolutely no sense at all, but it makes you laugh till your sides hurt, and it's a good way to pass the time).
"Pickle!".... "Icklicklip!"
"Education!"... "Nickelubedid!"
"Horseradish!"..."Sishdiserish!"
... As we walked home... our friend, the man in the red sleeping bag, lay snoring in his usual place--by the brick wall, near the tree, at the corner, a block from our flats. And he was familiar. And the street was familiar. And the bus stop, and the lamp posts, and the black gum on the cement was all familiar... And the people I walked with were familiar. And I thought... How good it is to have a friend.
You know, this was my first time on a London train. As mr. Brower would say, they are "smooth like buttah!"... at least in comparison to the jostling experience you get on the tube.
Anyway, it was well worth the travel time, the sitting time, the waiting time, and the reading time... we alighted at Shoreham Station, and headed out on our country walk!
The English countryside was breathtaking from a tour bus window. ... But that view was nothing compared to what I saw as I spent the day walking through it. Somehow the addition of the cool morning air, the sound of birds, the water in a brook, and wind in your eyes, made a world of difference.
We stopped first at a small church cemetary. The headstones covered in lichen and moss, all grey and green and yellow... and the grass growing wild and thick. The wooden walls of the little church were old and cracking, and the trees all swayed silently to some unheard rhythm in the air.
For the first time in the last month, I could breath! You never realize how dirty the air is, until you get outside it. And let me tell you, the air in good old London Town is outrageously difficult to breath... But not out there, in the country. It's beautiful... and clear, and clean.
We walked out of the churchyard, and onto a little path. It led us slowly past rolling hills filled with tall, wet grass, and blue, burning skies. You'd see a row of poplars going off at an angle in the distance, separating this field from that, or perhaps standing sentinel over a small country lane. And then there'd be one lone tree: big enough, thick enough, that you could spend forever reading a book at its base. Branches spread low over the earth. It would stand there, dozing in the bluish, foggy mist. And I'd watch, and wonder how many picnics it had sheltered, or how many children had skinned their knees trying to scurry up its trunk.
There came a break in the endless hedge on our right, and the path led us through the opening. The clouds billowed and bloomed above me, and the earth swelled up and down like waves, and it was so wet, and quiet, and filled with sound. There was a little white bird that flew from one tree to another. And great stone bridges that crossed the stream we followed from time to time. Brick walls, yellow and red and brown and green and purple, all at once: as though daring a rainbow or a painter's pallet to rival them in color, or texture, or interest.
We stopped at a place called the "Hop Stop". Did you know that a "Hop" is actually the part of the grain that is used to make Beer? Well, it is. And I saw them. Though I'm sure it would have been more interesting if I drank every now and again. ;) Though part Brewery, the Hop Stop was also a Lavender Farm. They sold lavender bread, lavender cookies, lavender ice cream, and lavender extract. We had a hay day, sharing our purchases, and trying new things...
A home made HoHo--which was gigantic and covered in sugar.
Victorian Lemonade--which contains only .5% alcohol! ;)
Ginger Beer--which burns your throat on the way down.
Cheese Straws--which were crispy and delicious.
Pistachio Ice cream! Lavender ice cream! Rum cake! English Crisps! Dried butter beans! And lavender shortbread!
It was one of the few times I've really felt like all of us were... friends. Talking and laughing and sharing and eating. Spending the day in the English Countryside.
Later as we continued our walk, we came across some horses grazing near the road. There was one little foal in particular, who was getting a lot of attention, and giving no notice. Everyone sat there and clucked and called, but to no avail. I walked up, and said "hello! is your name Joey?", and his little head shot up, and he walked straight to my beckoning fingers. Well, we laughed quite a lot at that. It was almost an exact reproduction of a scene in War Horse, where Albert names his horse. Anyway, I guess that means I'm Albert.... hmm... haha
We visited an Archaelogical site for some Roman Ruins... which were quite educational. But the best part was the lift. (Jill and I discovered it, and had a party). See, you had to push the button the whole time, and if you stopped, the lift stopped. So you could be stuck, halfway between floors, and since it was glass, you could see into both the one below, and the one abve. It was totally AWESOME.
Unfortunately Lancelot gave us a parental glare.
Anyway, after that, a lot of the group headed back to the train. But a small bunch of us went on to see some castle ruins. And, of course, I'm always up for castles.
We jumped around for a while, exploring the ancient walls... And then we all slowly congregated in a loose circle in the shade, some sitting on the grass, some leaning aginst the stone, all talking and laughing. The sun was shining, and the sky was blue, and we were just... basking in the English Countryside, without a care in the world. We played some games, quoted some movies, and even made our own! (A new episode of "Sassy Gay Friend", starring Christian and Paige!)...
It was so wonderful to just sit there, and know that we were friends. I mean, REALLY friends. Even if we didn't know a lot about each other. Even if we hadn't spent more than a month in one another's company. We were friends.
We took the train home and chatted the whole way. We played a ridiculous game at the station, where you say a word, and the other person has to say it backwards immediately, without thinking about it. (Most of the time your replies make absolutely no sense at all, but it makes you laugh till your sides hurt, and it's a good way to pass the time).
"Pickle!".... "Icklicklip!"
"Education!"... "Nickelubedid!"
"Horseradish!"..."Sishdiserish!"
... As we walked home... our friend, the man in the red sleeping bag, lay snoring in his usual place--by the brick wall, near the tree, at the corner, a block from our flats. And he was familiar. And the street was familiar. And the bus stop, and the lamp posts, and the black gum on the cement was all familiar... And the people I walked with were familiar. And I thought... How good it is to have a friend.
5.26.2010
Day 29: I just want to be ok...
Sometimes you have to take a moment to breathe in and out, very slowly, ten times.
It might be because of a deadline at work, a particularly naughty child, a stupid driver, or even a slight miscommunication. But whatever it is, you have to remember... patience, like any other good quality, is generally demonstrated in times of difficulty, rather than in times of ease.
We were also in the VERY FRONT ROW. I kid you not. We stood there, leaning against the gate in front of the stage, and chatted with the photographers. We struck up a particularly entertaining conversation with a larger, older man, who was rather experienced, and happy to talk. We talked about his family, and his kids, and his job, and his life... and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I am learning again and again that it is the PEOPLE you meet, not the places you go, that really matter.
It might be because of a deadline at work, a particularly naughty child, a stupid driver, or even a slight miscommunication. But whatever it is, you have to remember... patience, like any other good quality, is generally demonstrated in times of difficulty, rather than in times of ease.
***
Yesterday I was telling Cameron that I could walk around in a man's T-shirt, with a belt and tights, and be totally fashionable. I don't know that he actually believed me. But when I got on the tube this morning, there she was... standing just a few feet away, a girl dressed in a man's large blue and green striped polo shirt and tights. Case and point. (I'm not kidding).
We walked out of the station, towards the Unicorn Theatre to see The Tempest. We went as a group, right after class, because the theatre would only allow us to enter as a group. And as we walked down the street, I noticed a guy standing around on the sidewalk with his friend, smoking. As our huge group began walking by, he quite accidentally dropped his cigarette. He stooped rather awkwardly to pick it up, and as he rose, I heard him say, "that is a very long line of beautiful girls." Haha. Poor guy. ;)
The Tempest was an experience, to be sure. Our group of 40 college students was surrounded by junior high kids, all laughing and screaming uproariously as lightning struck and the ship wrecked in the first five minutes of the show. I looked around and noticed I was not alone in my staring... are all 12 year old children this... noisy? Or just the ones in the UK? ... I hope for my sake that it is a Europeon trend. ;)
Anyway, they settled down eventually. And the show was just lovely. The set alone was magnificent... it looked as though part of a ship wrecked boat had been plopped onto the stage. And the acting was good as well. Ariel was especially intriguing... he stood as though he were crushed or deformed-- and no one in the group could recreate his odd stance.
Now, Shakespeare's well and good... (and I know that I'll be blaspheming as I say this)... but his Tempest was nothing compared to who I saw later that evening!
You'll never guess... I nearly had a fit of convulsions due to excitement when we purchased our tickets the day before... .... and who was it?...
INGRID MICHAELSON!!!
Now, if you don't know who Ingrid Michaelson is....
1). Shame on you!
2). Find her on the youtube immediately. As in... now.
3). Ok, but really... stop reading this, and open another tab...
4). Let me help you! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJOzdLwvTHA
Anyway, it was absolutely AMAZING. Seriously. She is amazing.
And she reminded me of me in the studio. (Mom, you're probably the only one that will appreciate that statement). But really. There weren't any whale noises, but there was certainly random beat boxing (spelling??), punny jokes, and random stream of consciousness rambling. It made me SO HAPPY. She was so hilarious, and human, and sincere. And I think that she must be a very fun person to jam with.
We walked out of the station, towards the Unicorn Theatre to see The Tempest. We went as a group, right after class, because the theatre would only allow us to enter as a group. And as we walked down the street, I noticed a guy standing around on the sidewalk with his friend, smoking. As our huge group began walking by, he quite accidentally dropped his cigarette. He stooped rather awkwardly to pick it up, and as he rose, I heard him say, "that is a very long line of beautiful girls." Haha. Poor guy. ;)
The Tempest was an experience, to be sure. Our group of 40 college students was surrounded by junior high kids, all laughing and screaming uproariously as lightning struck and the ship wrecked in the first five minutes of the show. I looked around and noticed I was not alone in my staring... are all 12 year old children this... noisy? Or just the ones in the UK? ... I hope for my sake that it is a Europeon trend. ;)
Anyway, they settled down eventually. And the show was just lovely. The set alone was magnificent... it looked as though part of a ship wrecked boat had been plopped onto the stage. And the acting was good as well. Ariel was especially intriguing... he stood as though he were crushed or deformed-- and no one in the group could recreate his odd stance.
Now, Shakespeare's well and good... (and I know that I'll be blaspheming as I say this)... but his Tempest was nothing compared to who I saw later that evening!
You'll never guess... I nearly had a fit of convulsions due to excitement when we purchased our tickets the day before... .... and who was it?...
INGRID MICHAELSON!!!
Now, if you don't know who Ingrid Michaelson is....
1). Shame on you!
2). Find her on the youtube immediately. As in... now.
3). Ok, but really... stop reading this, and open another tab...
4). Let me help you! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJOzdLwvTHA
Anyway, it was absolutely AMAZING. Seriously. She is amazing.
And she reminded me of me in the studio. (Mom, you're probably the only one that will appreciate that statement). But really. There weren't any whale noises, but there was certainly random beat boxing (spelling??), punny jokes, and random stream of consciousness rambling. It made me SO HAPPY. She was so hilarious, and human, and sincere. And I think that she must be a very fun person to jam with.
We were also in the VERY FRONT ROW. I kid you not. We stood there, leaning against the gate in front of the stage, and chatted with the photographers. We struck up a particularly entertaining conversation with a larger, older man, who was rather experienced, and happy to talk. We talked about his family, and his kids, and his job, and his life... and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I am learning again and again that it is the PEOPLE you meet, not the places you go, that really matter.
***
I suppose you're curious as to why I said that bit about patience at the beginning...
Yes, well, I shan't be telling you! (haha)
Sometimes the lesson learned is more important than the frustration experienced. So just rest assured that everything worked out, and I am all the wiser because of it.
In the wise words of Ingrid Michaelson, "I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok... I just want to be ok today."
Yes, well, I shan't be telling you! (haha)
Sometimes the lesson learned is more important than the frustration experienced. So just rest assured that everything worked out, and I am all the wiser because of it.
In the wise words of Ingrid Michaelson, "I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok... I just want to be ok today."
5.25.2010
Day 28: A Beautiful Mess!
Rachel's sporadic laughter as she sits, reading on the couch; the sounds of sarah's fingertips clicking away at her laptop; the buzz of the cars passing below, and the occasional jet; the crunch of potato chips: an odd assortment of instruments, working together to create the luxuriously lazy tune of a tuesday afternoon.
Yes, well... wasn't that poetic?
Today has been glorious, (despite the early 7:00 start, which made me wary). We spent the morning at the Tower of London-- more of a museum than a fortress, really, but quite enjoyable still. One of my favorite features, architecturally speaking, were the windows. Now, I admit, that isn't surprising, seeing as how I've always had a fetish for windows. (Big windows, Bay windows, window seats, shuttered windows, and of course, stained glass). But these windows were intriguing. There were some very skinny, very tall rectangular ones, set back into deep crevices in the walls, which I suppose were constructed with defense measures in mind. And then there were great, massive windows with intricate moldings, and ivy encroaching on their view. I liked the wavy, hand made window panes. And the heavy, black iron latches and bars. I kept stopping to look out windows, and I'm sure I don't know why-- but that I liked to look at them.
Then there were the staircases. Big, spiraling things. I climbed up and down these tight curling steps, feeling as though I'd stepped into a sea shell. Someday I'm going to have a spiral staircase. And I'll dress up nights, just for fun, so I can walk down the stairs and feel my dress draping after me, sliding from step to step.
They have these gigantic Ravens there... I mean they clip their wings and feed them and everything. Why, you ask? Well, according to legend, as long as the Ravens are at the London Tower, England can't be conquered. The things are absolutely MASSIVE. They eat several pounds of raw meat every day, and a raw egg, as well as a rabbit once a week! Let me tell you, I sure wouldn't want to get into a fight with one of those birds. They're bigger than most cats.
We saw the crown jewels of England, which includes the biggest diamond in the WORLD. It's called the African Star. And it was very very... big. And sparkly. And quite nice. But it seems to me that the English have this awful habit of taking other countries things. ... I mean, there's that diamond from Africa. And I was looking at the coronation sword, and it's got thistles and clovers ALL OVER it. (Scottish? Yes.) They stole bunches of stuff from the Scots. (But ironically, they DIDN'T get the actual Stone of Destiny, which is a funny story, so you should ask me about it later). Anyway, you'd think the English could find their own cool stuff. But apparently not. ;)
Among other things, I saw this GIGANTIC shotgun... it was almost eight feet long, and I still can't fathom how anybody could have actually used it. And a real honest to goodness wooden lance... those things are also huge. Lots of armor... lots of swords... lots of guns... not a lot of torture stuff, strangely. Carvings on the walls from past prisoners, which was cool. And even an indoor toilet! Which was a bench, with a hole, that went straight outside. Gross. And can you imagine the draft you'd get during the winter??
Throughout the exhibits there were things missing, here and there, and we found out why at 12:00 noon. The Queen brought parliament into session today, and she had to use some of the things that were on display to do it. And, lucky for us, they did a 12 round salute at the Tower to signify the event! We got to watch those great big guns with their gaurds, firing huge blanks into the sky, making ear splitting, rumbling bangs, and spewing smoke into the air. Impressive? Quite.
Well after that was over, we headed to the British Library. The stacks at the Library are closed, so you must be a member to see any books, or check anything out. So, why even bother going? Well... it just so happens that the British Library has a treasure trove of special documents on display...
Today, I saw, with my very own eyes, in person...
*Jane Austen's writing desk
*The original manuscript of Jane Eyre
*The earliest surviving manuscript of Beowulf
*A handwritten Wordsworth poem
*Handwritten works from Oscar Wilde and Virginia Woolfe
*The original, handwritten manuscript to HANDEL'S MESSIAH
*Handwritten music by Beethoven, Mozart, Hayden, and Schubert
*Shakespeare's first folio
*The original Alice in Wonderland manuscript
*Pages from Leonardo Davinci's notebook
*One of the first Gutenburg Bibles
*The Magna Carta
AND....
*Handwritten Beatles lyrics!!!
AHHH!! I think that all of my wishes and dreams really ARE coming true! Portobello Road, and now this! ... I stood there, five inches away from John Lennon and Paul McCartney's own handwriting. Seriously.
A Hard Day's Night, on the back of a birthday card.
Michelle, on the back of an envelope.
Yesterday... Ticket to Ride... I Want to Hold Your Hand... Help!
Even unpublished songs, one of them by George Harrison, written on the back of a sheet with directions to their publisher's house in Sussox.
There they were. Just... sitting there. Under the glass. The actual pieces of paper where The Beatles music first found an outlet into the real world... where they first put pen to paper...
So. Freaking. Cool.
And you know what the best part was? They were just as messy and crossed out and written over and doodled on as MY lyrics! I noticed that with all of the handwritten manuscripts, notes, and music... from every author... there were always changes, scribbles, chickenscratch, and mindless drawings... One sheet of music was half completed, and then turned into pictures of a cartoonistic man in a hat... with the words penned at the bottom, "waiting for the third symphony..."
It was a bonding moment with all the artists of the ages. We're all messy in the midst of the creative process, but so is life! And in the end, hopefully, you can make something beautiful out of the mess.
Oh, and just a quick PS... A tree fell on our trampoline back home.
Yes, well... wasn't that poetic?
Today has been glorious, (despite the early 7:00 start, which made me wary). We spent the morning at the Tower of London-- more of a museum than a fortress, really, but quite enjoyable still. One of my favorite features, architecturally speaking, were the windows. Now, I admit, that isn't surprising, seeing as how I've always had a fetish for windows. (Big windows, Bay windows, window seats, shuttered windows, and of course, stained glass). But these windows were intriguing. There were some very skinny, very tall rectangular ones, set back into deep crevices in the walls, which I suppose were constructed with defense measures in mind. And then there were great, massive windows with intricate moldings, and ivy encroaching on their view. I liked the wavy, hand made window panes. And the heavy, black iron latches and bars. I kept stopping to look out windows, and I'm sure I don't know why-- but that I liked to look at them.
Then there were the staircases. Big, spiraling things. I climbed up and down these tight curling steps, feeling as though I'd stepped into a sea shell. Someday I'm going to have a spiral staircase. And I'll dress up nights, just for fun, so I can walk down the stairs and feel my dress draping after me, sliding from step to step.
They have these gigantic Ravens there... I mean they clip their wings and feed them and everything. Why, you ask? Well, according to legend, as long as the Ravens are at the London Tower, England can't be conquered. The things are absolutely MASSIVE. They eat several pounds of raw meat every day, and a raw egg, as well as a rabbit once a week! Let me tell you, I sure wouldn't want to get into a fight with one of those birds. They're bigger than most cats.
We saw the crown jewels of England, which includes the biggest diamond in the WORLD. It's called the African Star. And it was very very... big. And sparkly. And quite nice. But it seems to me that the English have this awful habit of taking other countries things. ... I mean, there's that diamond from Africa. And I was looking at the coronation sword, and it's got thistles and clovers ALL OVER it. (Scottish? Yes.) They stole bunches of stuff from the Scots. (But ironically, they DIDN'T get the actual Stone of Destiny, which is a funny story, so you should ask me about it later). Anyway, you'd think the English could find their own cool stuff. But apparently not. ;)
Among other things, I saw this GIGANTIC shotgun... it was almost eight feet long, and I still can't fathom how anybody could have actually used it. And a real honest to goodness wooden lance... those things are also huge. Lots of armor... lots of swords... lots of guns... not a lot of torture stuff, strangely. Carvings on the walls from past prisoners, which was cool. And even an indoor toilet! Which was a bench, with a hole, that went straight outside. Gross. And can you imagine the draft you'd get during the winter??
Throughout the exhibits there were things missing, here and there, and we found out why at 12:00 noon. The Queen brought parliament into session today, and she had to use some of the things that were on display to do it. And, lucky for us, they did a 12 round salute at the Tower to signify the event! We got to watch those great big guns with their gaurds, firing huge blanks into the sky, making ear splitting, rumbling bangs, and spewing smoke into the air. Impressive? Quite.
Well after that was over, we headed to the British Library. The stacks at the Library are closed, so you must be a member to see any books, or check anything out. So, why even bother going? Well... it just so happens that the British Library has a treasure trove of special documents on display...
Today, I saw, with my very own eyes, in person...
*Jane Austen's writing desk
*The original manuscript of Jane Eyre
*The earliest surviving manuscript of Beowulf
*A handwritten Wordsworth poem
*Handwritten works from Oscar Wilde and Virginia Woolfe
*The original, handwritten manuscript to HANDEL'S MESSIAH
*Handwritten music by Beethoven, Mozart, Hayden, and Schubert
*Shakespeare's first folio
*The original Alice in Wonderland manuscript
*Pages from Leonardo Davinci's notebook
*One of the first Gutenburg Bibles
*The Magna Carta
AND....
*Handwritten Beatles lyrics!!!
AHHH!! I think that all of my wishes and dreams really ARE coming true! Portobello Road, and now this! ... I stood there, five inches away from John Lennon and Paul McCartney's own handwriting. Seriously.
A Hard Day's Night, on the back of a birthday card.
Michelle, on the back of an envelope.
Yesterday... Ticket to Ride... I Want to Hold Your Hand... Help!
Even unpublished songs, one of them by George Harrison, written on the back of a sheet with directions to their publisher's house in Sussox.
There they were. Just... sitting there. Under the glass. The actual pieces of paper where The Beatles music first found an outlet into the real world... where they first put pen to paper...
So. Freaking. Cool.
And you know what the best part was? They were just as messy and crossed out and written over and doodled on as MY lyrics! I noticed that with all of the handwritten manuscripts, notes, and music... from every author... there were always changes, scribbles, chickenscratch, and mindless drawings... One sheet of music was half completed, and then turned into pictures of a cartoonistic man in a hat... with the words penned at the bottom, "waiting for the third symphony..."
It was a bonding moment with all the artists of the ages. We're all messy in the midst of the creative process, but so is life! And in the end, hopefully, you can make something beautiful out of the mess.
***
Oh, and just a quick PS... A tree fell on our trampoline back home.
5.24.2010
Day 27: Tap, Still, or Sparkling?
Today in class we discussed Brechtian Theory. Yes. Well. ... 'Nuff said.
We went to Tesco to pick up some groceries, (which were much needed after our weekend trapsing about the British Isles). And inside my basket, among other things... there was...
Dragon Fruit (check),
Cheese and Onion Crisps (check),
Corner's Yogurt (check),
Stir Fry Fixins (check),
Milk Chocolate Digestives (check),
Curiously Cinnamon Cereal (check),
Part-Skimmed Milk (check),
Sunflower Seed Bread (check),
Raspberry Jam (check),
Salami (check),
Mango OJ (check),
Pasta (check),
Mixed Nuts (check)
Bueno Bars (check)...
Yeah. Ok. I got sort of a lot of food. I know. But I was shopping while hungry, and you know that whenever that happens, you're bound to end up with a lot of food. But maybe that means that this Sunday I won't be eating beans! I love the bus when I have groceries. It makes the walk so much shorter. Thank heaven for the multiplicity of double deckar buses around here... even if it IS impossible to get a picture of anything without a great big red vehicle getting in the way. I suppose it's just a trade off... I don't have to walk all the way home with a bunch of groceries, and as payment, the darn things get to be in all my pictures.
Jill, Annie, and I walked over to Hyde Park with one of the blankets from the couches in the commons. The plan was to read London Assurance, (one of the plays for this week). Yes well, the day was simply GORGEOUS. The perfect temperature, the sun shining, just a touch of humidity, and a few gigantic white clouds in the sky... (All of you in Utah who are reading this and looking at the snow... I'm very sorry, I don't mean to rub it in... really.) So of course I got about thirty pages in and fell asleep. It was immensely difficult not to, what with the birds chirping, and the lush, green, ten inch tall grass beneath me... Hyde Park is beautiful. I misjudged it the first time, because of that crabby ginger lady and her dog. But the place is like a great big green safe zone inside the city. Everyone can just... relax. There were people climbing trees, reading, talking, playing music, tossing frisbees, kicking footballs, napping, biking, tanning in the sun... What a day!
There was one little girl, who was no more than 2, (like little cindy loo who!)... She was walking in the park with her mum and dad, who were dressed in fancy white tennis outfits, and she marched up to this guy playing the guitar like she owned the place, and starting dancing around... shaking her arms, bobbing up and down, movin' what her mama gave her... It was THE CUTEST thing I have ever seen. And boy was she a saucy little maid. (Oh and don't worry... I have a video)... I was laughing so hard. It was adorable.
Also, just for the record, I'm not crazy. Rob and Chach thought I was crazy because I said that I saw green birds in some of the trees by Prince Albert's memorial the other day. Well, turns out, there is a colony of Canaries in Hyde Park! Ha! I knew I saw them.
We went back to My Old Dutch for dinner for our 5 pound Moday pancakes... and I gave in and had peaches and cream again. I just can't resist a giant crepe with peaches and cream!
You know, restaurants hate us Americans because of our tap water. In Europe you just DON'T drink tap water at a restaurant. (Maybe that's cuz it's gross). But at any rate they think we're totally ridiculous. They ask, you mean still water? Bottled water? ... And you say no, just tap water. (Because THAT doesn't cost you anything). They roll their eyes and go to fetch your uncultured, unfashionable stuff from the tap... shaking their heads at our inability to just order a good wine or sparkling water. (Which, consequently, is absolutely horrid. I mean, I'm not saying that plain water is brilliant either. But sparkling water is just disgusting. If you ever have the chance to drink it, DON'T.)
We sort of had to run to the show tonight... the tube was absolutely jam packed. And muggy beyond belief. I was squashed against a wall by two, large, middle aged men. That was... ahem... fun.
And then we had to run up two escalators, and down several blocks, to reach the theatre... ironically enough, we were running with about half the group and BOTH of our professors. Apparently EVERYONE underestimated the ammount of time it would take to get to the National Theatre on time.
But, all was well, and we made it before the doors closed. We were hot and sweaty, but we made it.
And the show was absolutely phenominal! It was a West End show called War Horse, and... well... as Mr. Brower would say, "I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats!"
The puppetry was amazing. I hesitate in even using that word, because it has the wrong connotation. But, holy cow. There were so many little details that just made the animals REAL as anything you'd meet in a stable. They had everything, right down to the ear twitch and the tail flick and the pawing hoof in the ground. It was amazing. Not only the technical aspects of actually creating something that could move like a horse, but the ability of the actors to recreate those subtleties of another species using their own bodies, was incredible.
I couldn't believe the way they captured the brutality, and despair of war. My heart just ached for those people, and I kept thinking, Why? Why do we do this to ourselves?...
Though I came away a little depressed, the show was stunning. And I'm so glad I ran all the way to there to see it.
We went to Tesco to pick up some groceries, (which were much needed after our weekend trapsing about the British Isles). And inside my basket, among other things... there was...
Dragon Fruit (check),
Cheese and Onion Crisps (check),
Corner's Yogurt (check),
Stir Fry Fixins (check),
Milk Chocolate Digestives (check),
Curiously Cinnamon Cereal (check),
Part-Skimmed Milk (check),
Sunflower Seed Bread (check),
Raspberry Jam (check),
Salami (check),
Mango OJ (check),
Pasta (check),
Mixed Nuts (check)
Bueno Bars (check)...
Yeah. Ok. I got sort of a lot of food. I know. But I was shopping while hungry, and you know that whenever that happens, you're bound to end up with a lot of food. But maybe that means that this Sunday I won't be eating beans! I love the bus when I have groceries. It makes the walk so much shorter. Thank heaven for the multiplicity of double deckar buses around here... even if it IS impossible to get a picture of anything without a great big red vehicle getting in the way. I suppose it's just a trade off... I don't have to walk all the way home with a bunch of groceries, and as payment, the darn things get to be in all my pictures.
Jill, Annie, and I walked over to Hyde Park with one of the blankets from the couches in the commons. The plan was to read London Assurance, (one of the plays for this week). Yes well, the day was simply GORGEOUS. The perfect temperature, the sun shining, just a touch of humidity, and a few gigantic white clouds in the sky... (All of you in Utah who are reading this and looking at the snow... I'm very sorry, I don't mean to rub it in... really.) So of course I got about thirty pages in and fell asleep. It was immensely difficult not to, what with the birds chirping, and the lush, green, ten inch tall grass beneath me... Hyde Park is beautiful. I misjudged it the first time, because of that crabby ginger lady and her dog. But the place is like a great big green safe zone inside the city. Everyone can just... relax. There were people climbing trees, reading, talking, playing music, tossing frisbees, kicking footballs, napping, biking, tanning in the sun... What a day!
There was one little girl, who was no more than 2, (like little cindy loo who!)... She was walking in the park with her mum and dad, who were dressed in fancy white tennis outfits, and she marched up to this guy playing the guitar like she owned the place, and starting dancing around... shaking her arms, bobbing up and down, movin' what her mama gave her... It was THE CUTEST thing I have ever seen. And boy was she a saucy little maid. (Oh and don't worry... I have a video)... I was laughing so hard. It was adorable.
Also, just for the record, I'm not crazy. Rob and Chach thought I was crazy because I said that I saw green birds in some of the trees by Prince Albert's memorial the other day. Well, turns out, there is a colony of Canaries in Hyde Park! Ha! I knew I saw them.
We went back to My Old Dutch for dinner for our 5 pound Moday pancakes... and I gave in and had peaches and cream again. I just can't resist a giant crepe with peaches and cream!
You know, restaurants hate us Americans because of our tap water. In Europe you just DON'T drink tap water at a restaurant. (Maybe that's cuz it's gross). But at any rate they think we're totally ridiculous. They ask, you mean still water? Bottled water? ... And you say no, just tap water. (Because THAT doesn't cost you anything). They roll their eyes and go to fetch your uncultured, unfashionable stuff from the tap... shaking their heads at our inability to just order a good wine or sparkling water. (Which, consequently, is absolutely horrid. I mean, I'm not saying that plain water is brilliant either. But sparkling water is just disgusting. If you ever have the chance to drink it, DON'T.)
We sort of had to run to the show tonight... the tube was absolutely jam packed. And muggy beyond belief. I was squashed against a wall by two, large, middle aged men. That was... ahem... fun.
And then we had to run up two escalators, and down several blocks, to reach the theatre... ironically enough, we were running with about half the group and BOTH of our professors. Apparently EVERYONE underestimated the ammount of time it would take to get to the National Theatre on time.
But, all was well, and we made it before the doors closed. We were hot and sweaty, but we made it.
And the show was absolutely phenominal! It was a West End show called War Horse, and... well... as Mr. Brower would say, "I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats!"
The puppetry was amazing. I hesitate in even using that word, because it has the wrong connotation. But, holy cow. There were so many little details that just made the animals REAL as anything you'd meet in a stable. They had everything, right down to the ear twitch and the tail flick and the pawing hoof in the ground. It was amazing. Not only the technical aspects of actually creating something that could move like a horse, but the ability of the actors to recreate those subtleties of another species using their own bodies, was incredible.
I couldn't believe the way they captured the brutality, and despair of war. My heart just ached for those people, and I kept thinking, Why? Why do we do this to ourselves?...
Though I came away a little depressed, the show was stunning. And I'm so glad I ran all the way to there to see it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)