Learning to Fly

I would like to start by saying that I just glanced at the date of my last entry and cannot believe it has been two weeks since I last updated!  Days have been flying past as of late and there has not been a great deal of excitement worth mentioning.

The week following my last post, I spent working on an essay for my Reading & Writing Poetry course - which I received the grade for just this afternoon actually, and am not terribly happy with.  The professor for the course meets with each student to discuss the essays, which allows for a bit of clarification on the student's part and a bit more understanding on her's, and I find that very helpful.  Fortunately, for this course, there's a bit of room for improvement as students get the option to turn in a second essay and she uses the higher of the two scores, along with the exam score, for the final grade.  However, now that I've been hit in the face with how strict the grading really is in this country, I'm a little terrified for the outcomes of my other two modules, as I only get one shot at the essay grade.  My dear GPA, I apologize for the harm this year will bring to you - you've been so good to me these last few years.  Sigh.

I have found it to be a major struggle to put forth my best efforts in school - for various reasons.  First of all, I did not consider that living in a foreign country would feel like a vacation even after two months in.  While I attend classes and do a bit of studying, as well as make my deadlines for meetings and essays, school tends to be on my mind much less than future travels and adventures.  Even last week, as I woke planning to start research and outlines, I found it more important to soak up the Autumn sun and gallivant about town to watch the buskers, browse the markets, and marvel through the gates at St. Augustine's Abbey.

Also, due to the approaching winter and daylight savings, the light of day is gone by 4:30 in the afternoon - and it often never gets very light to begin with.  This, accompanied by a warm bed and book of my choosing, makes it nearly impossible to want to do anything but be lazy and lie down for bed at impossibly early hours.  I hope to snap out of this but am afraid that, unless something sparks my interest enough, my best performance won't come until the Spring.  Hopefully in time for exams!

As I mentioned, there are a select few things that will get me out of bed with my full attention.  Take, for example, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.  After learning that England does not do midnight showings, Leigh Anne and I booked tickets for the following morning's (Friday, November 19) first show.  Up and in town by 9 a.m., we were some of the first outside the cinema's doors.  It was quite an experience just standing in the lobby - an entire wall of candies to choose from on one side, ice-cream, cotton candy, and chocolate on the other... sweet or salted popcorn, hot drinks or cold, and just about everything in between.  Fortunately, Leigh Anne's become an expert at making puppy chow and brought that instead so we were able to proceed straight into the theater, where we were greeted by a lady who walked us to our amazing seats, right in the center.  We were floored that we, along with about ten other people, were the only ones to show up.  Apparently the British are better about waiting things like this out than Americans.  As the movie ended and the credits rolled, I was already ready to see it again.

At 4 a.m. the next morning, after a Skype date with Demetri that lasted until 2 a.m., I easily hopped out of bed for another piece of excitement... London!  My mom's best friend from her elementary and high school days now lives in Munich, but planned to see a rugby match in London for her husband's birthday and invited me along.  Although the match didn't start until two-thirty and they planned to leave somewhat early on Sunday, I decided to make a weekend of it and arrive early Saturday and leave late on Sunday.  I began getting ready just before I left, writing down the names of a few tube stations that I might want to hop off at while in the city and quite wisely packing only my point-and-shoot camera, coach tickets, and a few pieces of fruit.  Visits into London are starting to seem best when there's no plan in mind, everything always seems to work out perfectly.

The coach made its way into London a little after seven in the morning and the beauty of its skyline nearly moved me to tears (cheesy, but true.)  I had been talking with a guy on the coach who grew up in the city's outskirts and seemed totally unmoved by the picture perfect scene just outside the window... the golden glow of Big Ben and Houses of Parliament, the changing lights of the London Eye, and a slow sunrise that made it all come to life.  I thought about it then, how taken for granted hometowns are.  I wish I could find the beauty in moments like those everyday, no matter where, because it seems that those are what make life worth living.

After finding my way to the nearest Underground station, I hopped a tube to Westminster as I wanted to continue taking in that scene before beginning my day.  I was able to walk along the River Thames and watch electric lights fade as daylight grew stronger.  For awhile, it was almost surreal that I was in London.  Aside from an occasional jogger or taxi, the streets were rather quiet and empty.  I had the town to myself for awhile.  Big Ben chimed eight and things began to get a little busier.

I made my way to Westminster Abbey and spent a few moments pondering the idea that such intricate architecture could be built so long ago.  I do this almost daily here.  I then stumbled upon St. Margaret's Church which was surrounded by the Field of Remembrance, full of thousands of remembrance poppies for those lost in the armed forces.  This was a rather moving part of my day as well - seeing so much red, knowing there were more than I could possibly count.  Just across the road, a war protest was set up, with loads of signs and pitched tents.  Unfortunately, I believe that I left before any sort of action took place.

I continued to wander about, hoping that I'd end up in a place that sounded at least somewhat familiar.  I decided to follow the signs towards St. James' Park and proceeded to spend about thirty minutes in one small area talking to and laughing at the curious, chubby squirrels.  Perhaps a solo trip wasn't the best idea for my social life?  Although a few people did join me and we all got our fill of amusement watching them chase each other and, eventually, bully the pigeons.

From there, I followed a path that led me to Trafalgar Square and passed through to end up at the British Cavalry.  I watched the guards march for a few moments, and joined the other, obviously tourist, people getting pictures with the soldiers.  I ended up passing by several monuments dedicated to WWII, eventually got to the British Ministry of Defence building, and then ended back up where I'd started.

I crossed over the bridge to the London Eye and after passing about three shops that taunted me with breakfasty smells, caved and tried a "Wonder Waffle," a very popular treat in that area of London.  I've had a lack of strawberries and blueberries, two of my favorite fruits, while here... and certainly got my fill.

 

I continued walking along the opposite side of the River Thames in hopes of seeing Tower Bridge.  I'd learned that due to work on the Underground during the weekend, no tube stations near it were operating, but I never reached it... next time!  Instead, I made my way to Waterloo Station and boarded a train to meet my mom's friend, Shari, and her family in Twickenham.  Having only met Shari once, when I was a few months old, I was quite excited.  My mom has not been in touch with her for nearly twenty years, but told me loads of stories as I was growing up about their shenanigans - and there I was, on my way to hang out with her in a different country.  Funny how things work out.

I met Shari at the station and we greeted with a hug instead of words... such a great feeling!  The family and their friends were the most lovely, lively, and hilarious bunch of British I've spent time with thus far.  I cannot get over how welcoming people are here.  It was noon, and because the rugby match did not start until 2:30, there was plenty of time for drinking beforehand... of which there was much.  The group drank from noon until bedtime and were sure to keep a drink in my hand at all times.  Shari and I were able to share stories and laugh about a certain few that mom had forgotten to share.  The party, most of whom had rugby shirts on (I know for next time the appropriate attire), made our way to the stadium.  The atmosphere of a rugby match is very comparable to a football game in the states... lots of drinking, cheering, chanting, and celebrating, all within a similar type of stadium.  England won over Samoa and by the end of the game, I understood most of what was happening on the field.

We returned to the hotel pub for dinner and drinks, where I learned even more British slang, laughed over stories, surprised mom with a phone call from Shari, was invited to Stratford-upon-Avon (!) and began to think that maybe the solution to my sleeping issue is alcohol.  I slept like a rock!

The next day, we said our goodbyes and I joined Shari's family for a quick trip into London since they had to buy a suitcase before catching their flight back to Germany.  I am now on a mission to convince mom to visit so we can travel to Munich!  I'm so grateful to have met everyone, it was a wonderful experience all around!

After they left, I visited a few more well-known areas of London that I had not yet seen.  I worked my way down Regent and Oxford Streets (full of big-name companies like Burberry, Seven for All Mankind, H&M, etc.)  and saw a bit of Piccadilly Circus.  I am happy to report I got the majority of my holiday shopping done in those couple of hours!

I accidentally ended up in Leicester Square, where the red carpet is rolled out for many movie premieres.  There were lots of cinemas and restaurants surrounding the area and I sat down for a hot chocolate and listened to a few buskers before making my next move - which ended up being Hyde Park.

I say Hyde Park not because I'm certain I was there, but because that is where I believe I was.  When I got off of the tube, I was was surprised with a "Winter Wonderland."  No part of the park was really visible... not just because it was getting dark, but because every inch was covered with Christmas themed amusement rides, booth after booth of woodwork, jewelry, baked goods, crafts, souvenirs, German food, French food, beer, hot cocoa, hot cocoa with shots of your choice of alcohol and various other things.  Imagine a huge festival with every single bit of it having a Christmas theme.  I spent about an hour, unsure of whether or not I found this exciting or absolutely ridiculous, making my way through the crowds of couples and parents and children screaming that they wanted just one more ride on Santa's Rockin' Sleigh.

Finally, I headed back to where the whole weekend began, because I wanted to see London lit up at night.  I attempted to take a few pictures (click here for pictures) of the main attractions and realized I hadn't eaten during the day, so carefully inspected each food booth along the river... all sorts of food was offered, and I can safely say that one of my favorite smells now is that of roasted chestnuts which were available just about everywhere.  The idea of getting something nutritious battled around in my head, and I decided on a chocolate cupcake with white chocolate icing.  As I walked back along the riverside, I saw an empty bench with an amazing view.  I thought, "I want to sit on that bench and eat this unhealthy cupcake and enjoy every minute."  So I did.

I have no idea how long I sat on that bench overlooking the River Thames, savoring every bite of that cupcake, but I do know that the thought of how lucky I am to be here ran through my mind again and again.  I have been thankful for many things in my life, and I have tried to take time out to just appreciate the moment before, but my time on that bench was seriously different.  I am the kind of girl who needs plans, who makes lists and freaks out when things go astray.  I am the kind of girl who insists it is brains and personality that matter but stands in front of the mirror before bed and convinces herself the diet has to start in the morning.  I am the kind of girl who cannot go places alone because she worries about what everyone else will think of her not having any friends by her side.  It was in that small amount of time that I laughed at myself and realized I'm not really that girl after all.  I was perfectly happy, not worried about time or things I hadn't made it to, not counting calories, enjoying the place to myself, unconcerned with the thoughts of anyone else.

I love traveling with other people and sharing amazing moments in equally amazing places, but there is something about being seated in a place like London alone for awhile, surrounded by all kinds of movement from everyone else, and realizing that you're perfectly content, that there's nowhere else you'd rather be and nothing else you'd rather be doing, and that nothing needs to be said and that there's no use in trying to describe it afterward, as I am to you, because those moments are for you and you alone and no one else could feel the same even if they tried.

The trip had to end shortly thereafter, and I couldn't help but think that I had just handled one of the world's biggest cities on my own and had learned from it - even if I can't explain in words.  I guess it's more like a feeling, one of growing up.

Well, there you have it, deep thoughts and life lessons provided by Aly Hess.  I hope you are healthy, happy, learning and growing, wherever you are...

xo,
Aly

P.S.  I know it's extremely cliche to use a song to describe life's best moments, but I couldn't help thinking about this one during the whole trip and how it relates to not only this weekend, but this entire experience - perfectly fitting and my favorite artist.  I can't resist:

"Learning to Fly"
Tom Petty

 

I started out, down a dirty road

Started out, all alone

The sun went down as I crossed the hill

The town lit up, and the world got still

I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings

Coming down is the hardest thing

The good old days may not return

The rocks might melt, and the sea may burn

I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings

Coming down is the hardest thing

Some say life will beat you down

It'll break your heart and steal your crown

So, I started out for God knows where

I guess I'll know when I get there

I'm learning to fly, around the clouds
What goes up, must come down
I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings

Coming down is the hardest thing

November & Senioritis: We Meet Again

Readers,

[Insert looooong sigh of relief here.]  Unfortunately, this post will likely be one of my least interesting thus far.  For the last week, I've been cooped up in my room without proper amounts of human interaction and exposure to sunlight in a miserable attempt to write the first of my last few papers as an undergraduate student.

One would think that as an English major, I'd be able to fly through papers like it's nobody's business - and with many, I can.  Aside from the fact that I haven't written a paper since May, this paper falls into the social sciences and while I've done a few before, I've never done one UK style - not to mention, it's an upper level course!  The professor has been quite vague, both in class and in her assignment sheet about what it is she expects from the essay, and when a student asks for clarification, the expectations ironically become even more fuzzy.

The essay is due tomorrow by 4 p.m. so I was quite impressed that I had finished a draft last Thursday, after days of reading books and articles, analyzing, brainstorming, drafting and pulling my hair out, and was very pleased with the outcome.  I made an appointment with the learning center on campus to review it today before handing it in tomorrow, just to make sure I was on the right track.  I decided to come up with a list of questions for today's appointment yesterday afternoon, and when I re-read the essay question, "Critically assess gender as an explanation of social inequality," it dawned on me that I had not done one bit of critical assessing!  Over 3,000 words and excellent sources, but no answer!  Oh, how I miss working in the Writing Center and being surrounded by essays that keep me focused!

I rushed back to my room in a state of panic, scolded myself and glared at the stack of books, the worthless essay, and my laptop's blinking cursor on the empty white page... my enemies of the week greeted me again, and started from scratch.  Around two in the morning, I went from zero words back up to over 3,000 and begged my tired fingers to stop typing nonsense and just relay what was in my head.  I wrapped it up and after some editing and the learning center appointment today, I can thankfully say that I've saved the final draft and will hand it in tomorrow.  I wish I could say I have never let an essay take over my life before and that I'll never let it happen again, but during the school year it usually happens on a monthly basis.  The reason I'm so concerned about this one is because A.) It is my first essay in a different educational system & I've no idea how it will be graded, B.) It's worth 50% of my final grade, and C.) I have a thing for worrying.

Anyway... that's behind me and now onto 3,000 words comparing poems - tone, idiom, metaphors, and the like will keep me company this week... joy!  Senioritis is certainly creeping in and with so many amazing places to see and things to do so close by, it's even more of a struggle!  But I'm confident that I can handle this and get things done while still having fun.

So, let's rewind to before the essay crisis of November 7th.  Last Saturday, still catching my breath from our trip to London, I made the effort to scrounge up a few leftover coins and go into town to purchase a Halloween costume for a house party in the evening.  I found a witch's hat, some red lipgloss, and red fishnet tights all for under three pounds and - voila! - I was a witch.

The party was originally going to be hosted by a group of Spanish students, but the common room they had reserved in Parkwood was locked and the group kind of split up into the Spanish, who went off to another house, and the rest of us, a mix of American, French, British, and others.  We sat around and drank for awhile, then various people took turns on an acoustic guitar and we all sang Bob Marley and Rolling Stones tunes for a bit.  After awhile, a portion of the people who had purchased advance tickets to the university's dance club Vampire Ball left and the rest of us decided to jump on our 2 a.m. pizza craving.  As soon as the pizza arrived, a massive amount of people crowded into the kitchen -- The Venue had turned away everyone who showed up after 1 a.m., even with pre-purchased tickets!  I was quite sleepy but managed to nearly finish an entire large pizza by myself and attempt to engage in conversation until I just couldn't process anymore before calling it a night.

The rest of the week, seriously, was spent working on the essay we shall no longer speak of.  Aside from that, I occasionally found the time to ponder what on earth I'm going to do once I have my degree in June.  I thought that after four years of school focused in a specific area, my career choices would be narrowed... but now I feel like I have so many more options to weigh!  This is both brilliant and horrible, especially since I'm the most indecisive person I know.  I'm strongly considering teaching English abroad for a year, but graduate school and a year or two in journalism are equally appealing.  I know it's very last minute to be considering grad-school, but a few of the places I am interested in have rather late application deadlines and I could probably make it work if I start now.  Mom, how do you feel about Boulder, Colorado?

Friday was the 5th of November.  According to Facebook statuses that day, a large majority of my friends know the rhyme "Remember, remember the fifth of November," likely from V for Vendetta?  I felt so lucky that I was able to celebrate the holiday that this originated from, where it originated from: Guy Fawkes Night or "Bonfire Night."  Basically, on November 5, 1605 a group of thirteen men wanted to overthrow the King and a guy named Guy Fawkes was one of them.  They planned to do this by blowing up the Houses of Parliament in London, but Guy Fawkes was caught with loads of gunpowder underneath the building before they could carry out the plan.  The English celebrate, in a kind of Fourth of July style, by burning a "guy" (scarecrow) on a huge bonfire and lighting off fireworks in a carnival-type setting all across the country.

The fireworks display was actually bigger and better than any I've seen in the states (that's likely due to the fact that I'm from Indiana) and it was a totally different kind of experience.  So glad I was here for it!

Yesterday, Leigh Anne and I met up to start off our health-kick together (and yes, to avoid our essays.)  As she exclaimed, "I've resorted to exercising to put off this paper!" Equally true for me.  We planned to high-speed walk around the campus and a bit of town, but Mother Nature told us that we had to stop avoiding our inevitable schoolwork by first spitting rain, and when we didn't get the hint, pouring it down.  By the way, she's apparently still telling us not to go outside until it's all done - it has been raining off and on since yesterday morning!  At least when it stops for awhile it makes for some beautiful scenery:

 

I was quickly reminded that running never has been and never will be my sport as I was only able to jog a couple of short lengths back to my flat without wanting to collapse.  After changing into dry clothes, we went on a quest for a place to eat lunch on campus, which also failed because everyplace was closed.  We took this as another sign and ended up in the library, where this whole blog began.

The mention of the word "blog" reminds me of one last thing from this week - a member of staff from the university's International Office is starting a student blog page on the university's website where international students journal about their time in Canterbury... I sent him a sample of my work and after meeting up with him, he asked if I'd be interested in blogging for volunteer credits.  Of course I accepted!  I'll share the link when the site is up and running.

Also, it's hard to believe November is already upon us, but it is. And that means a new photo album.  Click here to see what Canterbury is like at this time of year!

I hope everyone is well and stress-free... if not, take an hour or two break.  You deserve it.

All for now,
Aly

A World Outside Of Kent

It seems unreal that exactly one week ago at this time, I was hastily stuffing the last few "necessary" odds and ends into my backpack and making my way to the bus stop to meet Leigh Anne and hop a coach to Liverpool.  If you recall, the prior weekend, we befriended Jonny, the street musician ("busker.")  On our first night hanging out with him, he extended the invitation to crash at a place he rents in Liverpool while he plays there.  People are like that here, offering accommodation within minutes of meeting you, which is both strange and wonderful to me as a small-town American.  Anyway, as we had just been pondering visiting the hometown of The Beatles earlier in the day, we jumped on the opportunity immediately - knowing we had a week-long break from school coming up.

Over the next few days, we made a very simple outline of how our journey outside Canterbury would go.  It went something like this:

1. Purchase affordable tickets from Canterbury to Liverpool, from Liverpool to London, and from London back to Canterbury.
2. Travel to Liverpool.  Stay three days at Jonny's and hope for the best.
3. Book a cheap hostel in London.  Stay three days and hope for the best.
4. Return to Canterbury alive and, preferably, not broke.

As a person who is obsessed with planning almost every activity down to its tiniest detail, this was quite a leap for me.  I am used to making plans to make plans, scribbling out lists, altering lists so that they are more sensible than the first, and researching copious amounts before I feel comfortable enough to make anything official.  Needless to say, this was a nice change.

With the only weight on my shoulders being that of a ridiculously obnoxious military bag and purse (at least I know how to pack for next time), we made our way onto a coach bound for London's Victoria Coach Station.  The coach tickets were much, much cheaper than train tickets, and we thought that a little extra travel time would not be a huge deal.  The two-hour ride there was a breeze.  Leigh Anne and I watched a movie and were giddy with excitement.  I kept thinking about how odd it was that this would be my second time in London (the first being landing in Heathrow in September) without being able to see it, as we were leaving straight to Liverpool after we arrived.

We waited around a bit at the station and boarded the next coach to Liverpool which, little did we know, would consume over six hours of our lives.  I can thankfully say that my motion sickness has, for the most part, been under control while I've been here.  The occasional bus ride makes me feel a bit nauseous, but they're typically short enough that I can deal.  Not this time.  We were stuck in London traffic for nearly two hours.  It was sweltering hot, sleep was impossible with all of the jolting about, and we were running about an hour and a half late.  I could not get over the fact that I was able to fly from Chicago to London in the same amount of time it took us to get from Canterbury to Liverpool!  And I'm not done complaining yet.  When we arrived in Liverpool, it was nearly midnight, pouring rain, and we had no idea how to get from the coach station to Church Street where Jonny was wrapping up for the night.  We asked countless people and got different directions every time.  When we finally found him, we could do nothing but half laugh, half cry for the next five minutes.  We helped him count his change and loaded into his car, where I happily sat in the backseat under a pile of bags and music equipment, with soaking wet flats and a great appreciation for simple car rides.

We had to quietly unload the car and make our way inside his place since it was so late.  The room Jonny rents is in a lady's home, which is cozy, but small... and the only thing separating his room from hers is a wall.  So, we tiptoed up the stairs, changed into dry clothes, and whispered our goodnights.

The next morning, we woke up and were in town by nine-thirty.  After getting Jonny and his equipment to a place just steps away from where he was the night before, Leigh Anne and I decided to explore the city.  We were a bit concerned at first because we were on the main streets and Liverpool was beginning to look like any other large city, with big, modern buildings and chain restaurants and cafes.  Fortunately, we spotted the Albert Dock, which is like an entirely different place altogether.  We admired the views and simplicity of it all before heading toward a few museums.

Our first stop was a house, preserved in the 1940s war-era style.  Each room had a little plaque that asked what you would do in a certain situation brought on by the war - "How many people would you share your house with?" "If your husband were forced to leave, how would you support your family and who would take care of the kids?"  We felt like trespassers since we were the only two in the building and it truly felt like we were in someone's home peering at their belongings, but it was nice to not be bumping into anyone or waiting to see the exhibits.

After that, we went to the Tate Museum, full of modern art.  We started out pondering not the art, but other onlookers who were standing in awe of the works, or having intellectual conversations interpreting a particular piece.  In an attempt to fit in, we strolled up to a few sculptures and the like, tilted our heads to the side, and pointing every so often to an area of the artwork, failed miserably to come up with our own interpretations.  It was on the upper floors that we began to appreciate the masterpieces a little more.  Leigh Anne enjoyed getting to dance to a Paul Simon remix on a disco floor in the middle of a room full of mostly naked statues, and I was taken with the art-inspired-by-poetry exhibit.

We left feeling content with the idea that we may have been somewhat enlightened and strolled along the docks, stopping now and then to read the menus posted in cafe windows and trying to discern whether or not we were hungry, but when we stumbled upon the Beatles Museum, decided food could wait.

The museum was full of all kinds of Beatles history, some of which is well-known and some that even a fanatic might not know.  Kudos to John Minton and his Social History of Rock and Roll course at IPFW, which I took this summer, for covering so many of the facts I came across in the museum in-depth!  I am always enthralled by original newspaper articles, actual handwritten lyrics and notes scribbled on napkins and hotel notepaper, first guitars and clothing belonging to the world's most famous musicians.  It always makes them seem more like real people and not just a voice on a record.

After the Beatles experience, we stopped at a tiny cafe along the dock and had a bite to eat before heading back into town.  We said hello to Jonny in between a few songs and he asked us if we'd made our way to the Cavern, which is a bar where The Beatles got their start.  He pointed us in the right direction and when we stepped into Cavern Quarter, Liverpool came to life.  Along the music-filled street, there was pub after pub and lots of homage to the Fab Four.  We popped into the Cavern for a moment, but it was packed from wall to wall, so we made our way back out onto the street and took it in for awhile before heading back to the main part of town.  We met up with Jonny and walked with him to get his dinner.

On our way back to Church Street, he ran into his friend Jack, an actor, and insisted that he show us the way to MelloMello, a laid-back pub and music venue that Jack and a few of his friends started up a few years ago.  We hung out for a bit there, and discussed philosophy, psychology, and the paranormal over strawberry beer.

With a an hour or two left before it was time to head home, we were back and forth between pubs and watching Jonny.  We had purchased blankets earlier in the day, knowing it would be cold if we decided to sit and listen to him.  Taking them out and using them resulted in about twenty people asking us if we were homeless, if we had a warm place to sleep that night, and if we needed money.  I now wish I had played this up because I may be a few pounds richer, but oh well.  It is quite ridiculous how people dress here.  Most of them who came up to us were girls in skimpy, sleeveless dresses and heels who were shivering to death, or men in sweatshirts whose breath you could still see in the chilly night air.  I asked a few if they weren't cold themselves and this typically resulted in a scratch of the head and an utter of agreement before they walked away.

Day three in Liverpool is quite likely one of the most memorable I'll have while in England.  We started off with a hot brunch which was the best meal I've had since I've been here.  After that, we set out on a quest to find the Eleanor Rigby statue, which we found with the help of a local couple who walked us there.  The woman gave me a bit of history on how things were when the Beatles were still around town and they gave us a bit of advice on the nightlife.

We then decided we wanted to head to the outskirts of town to visit the places that inspired so many Beatles songs - Penny Lane, Strawberry Fields, and Eleanor Rigby's gravestone - among others.  We thought going off of a map ourselves would save money over doing one of the bus-led tours, but could not find transportation to save our lives.  Finally, we decided a taxi would be worth it, and hopped in one with the cheeriest driver, Paul.  We felt lucky to have found him, since he was a local he gave us lots of history on the area unrelated to The Beatles as well.  We were able to visit Penny Lane (where I left a piece of myself forever - I lost a button to my boot there) as well as the barber shop mentioned in the song, Strawberry Fields, John Lennon's childhood home, and Eleanor Rigby's grave.  Paul mentioned that a lot of people are disappointed that the landmarks are so ordinary, but I believe their simplicity is what makes them so wonderful.

We were dropped off at the Liverpool Cathedral, where we attempted to find the gardens that Jonny told us were absolutely beautiful, but unfortunately had no luck.  I am always in awe of the greatness of cathedrals and churches in England.  It's sometimes difficult to remember that a structure so perfect and huge and astonishing was built by someone like you.

On our way back to the center of town from the cathedral, we ended up passing by Chinatown but weren't quite sure we wanted to visit, so we kept walking and stopped at a few stores before getting a bit of alcohol to start our pub-crawl night out with.  We stopped back at Jonny's place and all took a bit of a break before running to the train station.  We started the night off by meeting up with his musician friend, Jez, and heading to a pub where The Beatles would go to hang out after their shows in Liverpool.  After that, we went to a place called The Grapes, where there was live jazz music and a neat outdoor sitting area.

 If you'll notice, I'm a little less descriptive in this section and after this pub, I can tell you we went somewhere else, a club-type deal, but I was that person who fell asleep instantly and missed the whole thing.  We ended the night with a series of events that I won't publish here because it wouldn't make my momma proud, but can say that I almost devoured a delicious-looking cheese pizza that Jonny bought for us, however things went terribly awry and in the end, we took a taxi home and got the best kind of sleep.

The next morning, after taking a few aspirin and packing our things, we went to breakfast at a cafe in a cinema with Jonny and Jez, and tried our best to stay alert while they talked politics, then said our goodbyes to Jonny as he took off for Leeds.  We hung around town for a bit before heading to the coach station, ready for London.  A huge thanks goes out to Jonny for inviting us and having us stay!

The coach ride was not nearly as bad on the way back into London, probably because I found myself actually getting a bit of sleep here and there on the way.  We arrived around 10:30 p.m. and took a taxi to our hostel, which was situated right across from Hyde Park, in between a pizza parlor and a currency exchange.  When we got to our room, after battling three flights of stairs and a musty old smell, we were greeted by six Spaniards and two empty beds.  The room was probably four army crawls wide, and the beds all butted up against each other so that when someone rolled over and caused their bed to shake, it rattled the bunk bed next to it as well.  But sleep happily came after awhile.

The next morning we woke up early, got ready, and went to eat the breakfast provided by the hostel.  I am now a firm believer that if you are starving, the most bland, horrible food can taste delicious.  They had plain cornflakes and thin toast with tasteless butter and orange juice that could have passed as orange water.  But we scarfed down what our stomachs could handle.  With absolutely no idea of what we were going to do that first day, we caught a bus and got off at Buckingham Palace Road.  We gawked at the fancy, gate-protected palace for a few moments and couldn't believe it when a guard brushed up past us on his way through the gates.  There was a bit of commotion - police telling people to back away for a moment to let a car pass through - but we don't think it was anything too important.

We then proceeded to make a big loop around that part of town.  We were able to witness the changing of the calvary, Trafalgar Square, the National Gallery, and eventually, cross a bridge that gave us a breathtaking view of the London Eye and Big Ben.  I wish I could describe to you how magnificent this was to see, but I simply cannot find the words.  We passed a sign later in our journey that described going through an exhibit was "like falling into a fairytale" and I think this is the best possible way to sum up my first day in London.

We passed over Westminster Bridge and finally attempted The Underground.  The idea of the underground subway terrified me at first - being so fast-paced and massive, not to mention my fear of escalators.  But after a few trips, I began to fall in love with its convenience and the feeling of beginning to master it (although we did get mixed up a few times!)

We stopped to purchase discounted play tickets to "Dreamboats and Petticoats" for later in the evening, and sat down for the best 'hot chocolate' I've ever ordered.  It was actually just melted chocolate and gave us the energy we needed to proceed onto the British Library - but not before we stopped at the one and only Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross (only a few weeks until the new Harry Potter, by the way!)

The British Library was full exhibits and galleries open to the public, but access to rooms with reading materials required a "Reader Pass" which I was unable to get since I wasn't doing any real research at the time.  We spent ages in one of the galleries, however, full of original documents.  Among them were the first copies of works like Jane Eyre and Beowulf, the Magna Carta and so on.  They also had an exhibit solely for Alice in Wonderland which made my day!  They had the original copy, handwritten by Lewis Carroll, and all sorts of subsequent interpretations published over the years.

After the library, we went back to the hostel to change into some warmer clothes and left for dinner and a musical.  We grabbed some takeaway Chinese food and after finishing, settled into our seats at The Playhouse, where I was excited to see that George Bernard Shaw had presented some of his plays.  The musical was set in the 1950s and was full of that era's rock and roll and what I found to be extraordinary lighting and acting.  I have never seen a play or musical on stage before - aside from the occasional local one - so I was impressed.  Might I mention we were the only two under the age of 60 there?

We left the theatre and found a little hole in the wall pub called the 12 Bar Cafe, which was exactly what we were looking for in terms of authenticity.  It was old, dark, and loud.  We watched a guy play a few folk-inspired songs, then, like the elderly ladies we were surrounded by at the play, decided to call it an early night.  We had to be extremely quiet in the hostel because all of our roommates were sleeping already (which makes me feel a little less bad about going to bed "early.")

Our second day in London started out exactly the same way as the first - with a horribly gross but hunger-satisfying breakfast and no plan of action.  We thought that since we were so close to Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, we should take advantage and walk through them first.  We ended up at Kensington Palace, which, even undergoing construction, was marvelous.  We came out of the gardens by Albert Hall and walked our way to Kensington High Street, where there was plenty of shopping to do.  I found it most exciting that there was an Urban Outfitters within my reach... because they don't exist where I'm from, so I'm always browsing online and never buying anything.  I found a pair of shoes on sale, which I purchased so that I could jump up and down and exclaim that I had just purchased a pair of shoes from Urban Outfitters.  Leigh Anne found an amazing orange vintage jacket/cape that truly looks Sgt. Peppers.

From there, we took The Underground to Camden Town, where we had heard there were lots of good markets and places to hang out.  We heard right.  Our first stop was for food at a cafe/bar where I got the best baked potato known to man and Leigh Anne had her first fish and chips in England.

We went through stand after stand at the Camden Market, where I splurged on a vintage, purple, silk dress and wished I was crafty enough to make jewelry and sell it at a market for a living.

The pubs began to call our names and we stopped in at a Cuban one for happy hour, worked our way to one we thought would be nice, but couldn't handle the smell, then were directed to an Irish "underground rock" place, went to a diner that served milkshakes made with bourbon (!) and ended at a place called The World's End.  It was an epic night in Camden Town.

When we arrived back at our hostel, we heard giggling coming from inside of our room and entered, stumbling around in the darkness since we weren't allowed to use lights once people were asleep, and joined in the laughter when loud snoring from two new roommates started up, back and forth.  The snoring was pretty intense and it took awhile to fall asleep.

Our final day in London, we woke up a little later and packed, put our luggage in a luggage room since we had to check out by ten, and basically just hung around town for a few hours.  We did go to the British Museum but were so exhausted that it was difficult to focus on what we were reading, so our stay was short.  We went through a few shops, got our postcards, had an amazing strawberry cake, and walked around a different part of Kensington Gardens, where we found the most beautiful tree in the world, until we had to leave.

The coach back arrived right on time and it was a glorious feeling to be back in my own place, with a real shower and clean bed.  Looking back, there are loads of things we did not do in London, but that's the beauty in studying here instead of visiting... it's so close that we plan to visit again next month!  No need to rush and no need for major planning.  I could not have asked more from this trip - even as I sit here wrapping up this blog, it seems unreal to me that it actually happened.  Those places one hears about in music and in movies, or reads about in books and magazines, or looks at in paintings and in photographs - they exist, and I am fortunate enough to be taking them in... in real life.

I have had so many wonderful experiences, met so many amazing people and learned so much in a month of being here.  My one request is that if an opportunity presents itself to you, one of any sort that may enrich you in some way, take advantage of it.  Don't hesitate.  You may have to alter it a bit to make it work, or save up, or be prepared to pay it off.  It is important to be careful and responsible, yes, but after twenty years of dreaming, I'm finally doing, and I could not be more in love with life than I am at this very moment.

What is it you want to do in your lifetime?  What's stopping you?  No excuses.

Always,
Aly

P.S. - For additional pictures, be sure to look on the left side of the screen under Photo Albums!

Exploring, Street Music, Hot Chocolate, Zero Sleep, Repeat

In order to further procrastinate on schoolwork, I have decided - what better excuse than a lengthy blog update?  I've also made it a goal from now on to start taking note of major events as they happen because there's simply too much to recall when I'm only updating weekly! We'll see how that goes.

In my last post, I mentioned the idea that we might return to Whitstable on a sunny day for a different experience and better pictures.  Well, the next morning a bright, blue and sunny sky taunted me as soon as I hopped out of bed... fortunately, Leigh Anne's housemates and a few of their friends had already planned at trip to Whitstable for the day and we decided to join.  Half of them walked there and the others planned to take a bus later.  We joined the bus group and, since it was a Sunday and buses begin running to and from the city to the University later than usual, decided it would be quicker to walk into town and catch a bus than waiting around on one here.  After thirty minutes of fast-paced walking and a near sprint at the end that left us panting and sweaty, we ended up waiting on a bus that not only left Canterbury twenty minutes later than scheduled, but also made a stop at the University before heading off to Whitsable! Our luck with public transportation the past few weeks has been off and on... ultimately there's a lot of wasted running which either results in us sitting and waiting on the bus anyway, or being left behind in diesel fumes because we're just not fast enough.  Scheduled times, for all things, are such a tease in this country!

But so it goes... we spent a bit more time walking along the seaside Sunday than we did Saturday, after chatting for a bit at an outdoor cafe, and were lucky to have went on that particular day, as there was an open-air market with all sorts of fun things to look at.  I adore all of the vintage items one can find here and would love to start collecting something from each place I go... ideas?  Postcards are too easy, and bracelets too expensive!  In all it was a lovely and relaxing Sunday.

Mondays have become my designated day for errand running since I have no class and the stores are much emptier and less hectic.  I've been waking up much earlier than I'd like to and decided to take advantage of my spare time before getting groceries last Monday by making a stop at the Dane John garden grounds, the Canterbury Castle, and the cathedral since it was absolutely gorgeous outside and I've yet to share any of that with you.

The rest of the week consisted of school.  I've been doing fairly well keeping up with my readings, but need to start thinking about my papers that constitute half of my final grade and are due throughout November.  Each department is quite strict with their guidelines for papers and to simply turn in a paper is perhaps the most difficult part!  Most lecturers ask that you submit one electronic copy via e-mail, then two hard copies, which you have to take to the department's specific office at a specific day and time, where you complete a submission form and get a receipt of submission!  So tedious.

I went to my Reading and Writing Poetry class on Wednesday in quite a nervous state - it was a workshop day where we pass out copies of our work to the rest of the class and after you read your poem aloud, the rest of the class gets to critique it while you sit there and take notes... but my piece got a few laughs and an overall good review, which was such a relief, especially since I feel like I'm among professionals here :)

I made my way to my library a few times this week... I have a method now of finding books I want, since I still have no idea how they're ordered on the shelves.  I search the titles online and write down the codes, then wander about until I find the right section.  This doesn't always work, but I usually stumble upon something I like anyway.  My first trip, looking for Simone de Beauvoir, led me to William Blake and Sylvia Plath, which I thought would last me the week, but after finishing two days later I went back and came home with Pablo Neruda and Gabriel Garcia Marquez.  I love having time to read!

Craving our American food fix, Leigh Anne and I hopped a bus to town on Friday afternoon and went to a Kebab place, which was the absolute most awkward restaurant experience of my entire life.  This worker would NOT stop staring and even when he finally disappeared, we glanced out of the window and there he was, cigarette in hand, looking at us.  At one point, he was gawking, chin-in-hand behind the counter and I couldn't help laughing out loud. We have probably accumulated a hundred stories that involve Europe's strangest men and our unfortunate ability to catch the attention of all of them instead of the pleasant kind that make for a dreamy, storybook kind of study abroad adventure.

We got out of dodge and walked slowly, taking in the bustling city, stopping in at an antique sale and looking in bakery windows, wishing calories didn't exist.  My ears picked up on the sounds of an acoustic guitar and melodic singing in the distance and I insisted that we had to find its source before we left town... thank goodness we did!  In his bright red pants and hobo gloves, Jonny Walker won us over.  We kept staying for "just one more song" and eventually decided we would stay until he left.  In order to do this, we had to consume outrageous amounts of hot chocolate (this was seriously our diet Friday-Sunday) and keep moving around... it was unbelievably chilly!

We became quite fond of the Cafe Rouge, a little place just next to the area he was playing... it was perfect since it offers outdoor seating.  After wrapping up his Friday night, we helped him count his change and pack up, then went out for a drink there.  His music and humor are wonderful qualities, but the fact that he looks like Bob Dylan makes it even better.  He told us he'd be in town until Sunday and so, of course, we spent hours over the next two days parked under the tree where he played and hanging around after he was done.  Anyone who knows me knows that if there's music that I enjoy being played somewhere, I'll happily stay in that very place until it's gone.  It just doesn't get old!  Besides, being able to hang around someone who makes their living doing what they love and hear all about it in between sets is probably one of the most inspirational things that could happen while I'm here.

We were also lucky enough to be in town while the Canterbury Festival began... we saw lots of dancing and other musical acts, as well as the parade!

Last night was my first decent night of sleep in ages... the weekend had us up and going (searching for genuine pubs late at night, house parties with instrumental Beatles music in the background, unexpected conversations about life's most pressing issues, burning Jonny Walker CDs for some extra money) until 4 a.m. on average.  It's pretty wondrous what snoozing can do and I need more of it in my life!

Today, it's back to reality... while I was in town to run errands, I half expected to hear the folky music echoing in the streets and pass through crowds of out-of-towners, but it was rather desolate and quiet, save the crunching of leaves by people on their way to work and occasional gusts of wind.  I suppose I need the chill time this week though, to get things done.  I'd like to get ahead since next week is a break from school and Canterbury... we're heading to Liverpool and LONDON!

 I hope all of you are making beautiful memories and being inspired as well.

Until next time,
Aly