It doesn't seem that long ago that I wrote my hello, and now here I am at the goodbye. To be honest, I should be sleeping instead of writing (especially after consuming my last taste of Tesco Choice Medium Sweet Red wine at my German friend's leaving party) but my mild state of OCD cannot leave the recording of my Europe adventures incomplete. I need closure.
I'm so excited to go home. I really am. But tonight I walked along the streets of London and realized just how much this city has given me. I'm going to miss it.
Things I have Learned while Studying Abroad:
1) Walk fast and for God's sake get out of the way.
2) The German derogatory term for the British is 'cliff-pissers'
3) The German word for 'cheers' is 'post.'
4) 'Post' is British mail.
5) Post is expensive to send from Britain to America.
6) Sometimes avoiding eye contact is the only way.
7) Not everyone hates America. Just the majority. And even then they hate America the country not necessarily the individual American (as demonstrated by the fact that I did make non-American friends here)
8) Americans really are loud.
9) Public transportation is amazing.
10) I can go exactly 4 days before a shower becomes compulsorily.
11) I can get by on a lot less that I originally thought.
12) I am a total pub girl.
13) (ooh my favourite number!) I can feel at home just about anywhere, but there are some places that never leave us.
I've been watching a lot of "How I Met your Mother"which is why there is one word that springs to mind immediately when I try to describe my time here:
Legendary.
Love, love, luv,
Sarah
Friday, June 3, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
A Very Potter Pilgrimage
So I don't know if you've heard, but I've been stalking the Chosen One. Here's what I got:
Let's start at......
Platform 9 3/4
Sadly anti-climatic to be honest. Kings Cross is the underground/ train station about 5 minutes from where I live, but though I go there pretty much everyday, I didn't actually try to find Platform 9 3/4 until Little Sarah visited at the end of April. They're doing a ton of construction on Kings Cross, though, (to get things spiffy for the Olympics) so platforms 8 and 9 were inaccessible. However, I knew there was a way to get to the platform because I had heard about other people seeing it even with construction going on. Sarah and I decided to go ask at Information, since it would be silly to come all the way to London and not see it. I approached the man at the desk feeling like an idiot.
"Excuse me, sir," I said. "I have kind of a stupid question..."
"Platform 9 3/4 is down that way. Turn left at the bike rack."
That obvious, huh?
Anyway, what they had done was put up a temporary Platform 9 3/4 which means it's just a plastic picture of a brick wall in a little nook. Sad days. They actually moved it now so it's outside of the station, probably in hopes of decreasing the urge of the staff to punch tourists in the faces.
Diagon Alley
Location: Leadenhall Market. I don't think they actually filmed here, but it was part of the inspiration for how they made Diagon Alley in the movies. I was hoping to buy my favourite sister something snazzy here (so I could say I bought something for her from Diagon Alley, thus making it the coolest souvenir ever) but it was more commercialized that I expected. It was definitely more magical from a distance.
Never fear!! Not everything was lame!!
The Great Hall and staircase
Oxford was used for a lot of Harry Potter filming including the library in the first film (we couldn't get in, though, because it was actually being used by students when we visited), the Great Hall, and the entrance staircase,
This was the most legit part of my pilgrimage. Especially as I stood in the stairwell in awe and someone started whistling the Harry Potter theme song down below.
Speaking of cool staircases, I can't find a picture from a movie, but you know you've seen this before:
It's in St. Paul's Cathedral and used as the spiral staircase coming from Trelawney's tower, and I think possibly in the fourth film when Neville is standing by the stained glass window after Moody teaches the class about unforgivable curses.
I was hoping to stumble upon Hogwarts when I was in Scotland, but alas, Alnwick Castle was nowhere near Edinburgh (where I was) and even though I would have loved to take a train specifically to go on Wizarding Day when people at the castle offer flying lessons (I'm not sure how) and the option to 'make-you-own-wand,' (I'd rather have Ollivander do it, thanks) circumstance didn't allow. If only I had a hippogriff...
I did see this though:
Cool, huh?
And last of all, Harry Potter himself when I ran into him at Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum.
Magical.
Yours nerdily,
S.M Kosch
Let's start at......
Platform 9 3/4
Sadly anti-climatic to be honest. Kings Cross is the underground/ train station about 5 minutes from where I live, but though I go there pretty much everyday, I didn't actually try to find Platform 9 3/4 until Little Sarah visited at the end of April. They're doing a ton of construction on Kings Cross, though, (to get things spiffy for the Olympics) so platforms 8 and 9 were inaccessible. However, I knew there was a way to get to the platform because I had heard about other people seeing it even with construction going on. Sarah and I decided to go ask at Information, since it would be silly to come all the way to London and not see it. I approached the man at the desk feeling like an idiot.
"Excuse me, sir," I said. "I have kind of a stupid question..."
"Platform 9 3/4 is down that way. Turn left at the bike rack."
That obvious, huh?
Anyway, what they had done was put up a temporary Platform 9 3/4 which means it's just a plastic picture of a brick wall in a little nook. Sad days. They actually moved it now so it's outside of the station, probably in hopes of decreasing the urge of the staff to punch tourists in the faces.
Diagon Alley 
Location: Leadenhall Market. I don't think they actually filmed here, but it was part of the inspiration for how they made Diagon Alley in the movies. I was hoping to buy my favourite sister something snazzy here (so I could say I bought something for her from Diagon Alley, thus making it the coolest souvenir ever) but it was more commercialized that I expected. It was definitely more magical from a distance.
Never fear!! Not everything was lame!!
The Great Hall and staircase
Oxford was used for a lot of Harry Potter filming including the library in the first film (we couldn't get in, though, because it was actually being used by students when we visited), the Great Hall, and the entrance staircase,
This was the most legit part of my pilgrimage. Especially as I stood in the stairwell in awe and someone started whistling the Harry Potter theme song down below.
Speaking of cool staircases, I can't find a picture from a movie, but you know you've seen this before:
I was hoping to stumble upon Hogwarts when I was in Scotland, but alas, Alnwick Castle was nowhere near Edinburgh (where I was) and even though I would have loved to take a train specifically to go on Wizarding Day when people at the castle offer flying lessons (I'm not sure how) and the option to 'make-you-own-wand,' (I'd rather have Ollivander do it, thanks) circumstance didn't allow. If only I had a hippogriff...
I did see this though:
And last of all, Harry Potter himself when I ran into him at Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum.
Magical.
Yours nerdily,
S.M Kosch
Saturday, May 14, 2011
The Countdown
So exactly three weeks from this very moment (in your time) I will be in America. Enjoying my five hour layover in Chicago O'Hare. Which I didn't realize I had. Strange how these inconvenient travel details always seem to come as a shock to me when I'm the one who booked the tickets. I guess in this particular case I was too focused on the London-ward part of the trip and not so much on the return. But the important thing is that I'll be stateside again!!!!!!! What that excessive number of exclamation points is trying to say is: I'm ready to be home.
I'm going to miss London. How could I not miss a place like this?
These last few months have been unbelievable, and I still have three weeks of amazing-ness to experience (DAVID FREAKIN TENNANT IN T-MINUS 3 DAYS!!!!!!!!!!), but lately, there has been a longing in my soul for a few of things that I can't get here.
I miss Netflix. And Hulu. And Java House. And Capt'n Crunch (peanut butter and/or berries). And the Diner. And being able to watch movies on a TV. And watching TV not in a communal kitchen that is always too hot and smells weird. And being able to have people over without having to check them in at a front desk (die, Nido, die!) And Herbal Essence Totally Twisted (they do have that here, I just couldn't justify spending 4 pounds which is like 7 bucks on shampoo). And having a casserole dish to cook in.And Panera Bread. And maple syrup. And Bluemoon. And SuperSaver. And Runza. And The Mill. And the Englert Theatre. And 318 Ridgeland #3. And Elvis.
And you all most of all.
So mark your calenders, kids. I shall arrive in Nebraska at 7:15 PM June 4. I shall linger in Lincoln until the 11th or 12th. Then I shall be in Iowa City until the 22nd. Then I shall be drinking in country music (and other delicious substances) for 4 days at Country Stampede with the Forever Loves until the 27th. Then I'm back in IC for the rest of the summer to try and pretend like I can replenish my bank account if I work hard enough.
You guys, I am so excited to see you.
Yours with so much love my heart might explode,
Sarah
I'm going to miss London. How could I not miss a place like this?
These last few months have been unbelievable, and I still have three weeks of amazing-ness to experience (DAVID FREAKIN TENNANT IN T-MINUS 3 DAYS!!!!!!!!!!), but lately, there has been a longing in my soul for a few of things that I can't get here.
I miss Netflix. And Hulu. And Java House. And Capt'n Crunch (peanut butter and/or berries). And the Diner. And being able to watch movies on a TV. And watching TV not in a communal kitchen that is always too hot and smells weird. And being able to have people over without having to check them in at a front desk (die, Nido, die!) And Herbal Essence Totally Twisted (they do have that here, I just couldn't justify spending 4 pounds which is like 7 bucks on shampoo). And having a casserole dish to cook in.And Panera Bread. And maple syrup. And Bluemoon. And SuperSaver. And Runza. And The Mill. And the Englert Theatre. And 318 Ridgeland #3. And Elvis.
And you all most of all.
So mark your calenders, kids. I shall arrive in Nebraska at 7:15 PM June 4. I shall linger in Lincoln until the 11th or 12th. Then I shall be in Iowa City until the 22nd. Then I shall be drinking in country music (and other delicious substances) for 4 days at Country Stampede with the Forever Loves until the 27th. Then I'm back in IC for the rest of the summer to try and pretend like I can replenish my bank account if I work hard enough.
You guys, I am so excited to see you.
Yours with so much love my heart might explode,
Sarah
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Two-fold Epic-ness: Spring Break Madness and I crash Kate and Will's Wedding
A word of warning: This is going to be the longest blog post ever. I have a week and a half of adventures to relay to you, so make a cuppa tea, sit back, and let's go back in time to April 17th at 7:48 PM in Dublin, Ireland.
From the journal of Sarah M. Kosch (just an fyi: the 'We' in Ireland equals myself and my fellow study abroaders Meghan, Kait, and Nikki along with my visiting friend and coworker at the Englert, Kristal. Kristal was only with us for the Ireland leg, though [because she went home, not because she got lost]):
Day 1:
Well, our hostel is pretty shitty, but I guess that's what hostels are good for, eh? But otherwise Ireland has been phenom. This morning was a little nuts trying to catch our bus by bus at 4:30 AM to get to the airport, but we made it a-okay. Our first stop after dropping off our bags at the hostel was to hit up the Jameson Distillery where we had a tour and quite a bit of whiskey. I was in a good place. We then proceeded to the Guinness Factory where we walked around, pulled our own pint, and then checked out the Gravity Bar with its 360 degree view of Dublin. By this time we were starving and pretty exhausted so we had dinner at a pub and now we're back at the hostel laying low. Tomorrow is our Galway bus tour and it's Kait's birthday! We will be going out fo sho!
Day 2:
Wow, so Galway stole my heart. Breath. Taking. We stopped at a Bronze-age tomb and a little town called Doolin (our awesome bus driver PJ's hometown) for lunch, then onto the Cliffs of Moher. Goodness is was easily one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. The misty Atlantic stretching into infinity past the towering cliff faces. So grand. So awe-inspiring. It's nominated to be one of the Seven Wonders of the World, and it's got my vote hands down. We stopped at another cliff without barriers so we could get right to the edge. I could've stood in one spot for hours. Last we stopped at a fairy castle, and with the oncoming twilight and high tide, it was a legit Kodak moment. When we got back to Dublin we had dinner at an American style diner (which I did not choose, thanks - I hate going to places like that when we're in EUROPE) and my chicken basket made me sick or the water here or something, but the point is that our crappy hostel ran out of toilet paper and I had to use paper out of this notebook. I think I've gotten as low as I can go. Anyway, Meghan and Nikki came out with Kait and I while Kristal rested with a migraine and we heard an Irish man sing Galway Girl. What better birthday present than that?
Day 3:
This morning was slow-going, but we finally got on the move and took a peek in Trinity College, but people were graduating so we felt like we were intruding. Now we are sitting in Saint Stephen's Green and soaking in the sunlight. It's beautiful weather once again. Ooh note to self: Buy leather jacket. I borrowed Kristal's last night and it was way bad ass. Ooh another note: I keep thinking about how Oscar Wilde and Bram Stoker lived here and walked these streets and maybe even sat in this green! It's making me want to write poetry. (note: the version appearing here was later revised on the flight to Berlin)
To Dublin
First things first-
The hostel smells like piss.
The key: Don't stay.
The promise: The grass is greener.
I sit in damp earth and pick clovers.
I feel sunshine and sweat and let the green soak into my unwashed and will stay dirtied body
(when showers are dirtier than me what's the point?)
The point is I met an old man at the pub and he told me he saw an American woman drink four pints of Guinness and walk across the river Liffey. "Right over the water," he said. "Then she walked back and had four more." He said he didn't know what happened to her after that. "She probably walked home," chimed in his friend. I laughed with my pint in my hand and loved the twinkle in their wrinkled eyes. Later, my own chime sounded but it was too late for puns. Still - stout floats eternal.
Secondly, minute details and our vision is stolen by misty ocean days and cliffs that plunge my stomach just by looking.
You say breath.
I say taking.
Whiskey warm and a bus driver named PJ. We bounce down narrow roads and take pictures to try to hold onto the shifting landscape. No matter, something always eludes us - Illusions in digital - the blue is never quite right.
Third night in the hostel I dream about Nebraska kisses and the way the stars look above a campfire. I'm not homesick, just homebound with familiar videos on repeat in my head. I dream of hot showers and clean hair and fall asleep in somebody else's blankets.
In the morning, I go out early and buy water just to have an excuse to say good morning and smile and hear the cashier say, "Have a good day, love," and I love this place with the dirt and the train tracks and the alleys of broken glass and the silver knots that mean eternal love.
I slip it on.
I make it a part of myself.
The film reel rolls on and shifts to open hands on my heart.
Later: After the park we wandered to Saint Patrick's Cathedral and the Dublin Castle, both of which weren't all that spectacular. Kristal kept saying how she told us Dublin could be explored in half a day. I guess she's right, but I'm glad we spent all day there today. Kristal, Kait, and I split off to see the Writer's Museum, though Kait ended up not wanting to pay so it was just Kristal and I. It was sooooo neat though. There was a first edition of Dracula and a ton of stuff about Oscar Wilde and I learned a lot about other Irish writers like Joyce, Yeats, Beckett, etc. Note to self: I really need to read Ulysses. After that we wandered around sort of shopping until we met up with everyone for dinner at O'Neil's where I had Irish beef and Guinness stew - omg so good. I need to find the recipe when I get back to the states. We hung out at the pub and watched a football match for a bit, left to do a bit more shipping and then came back to the hostel to figure out how to pack everything that we've bought. Tomorrow - Germany!
Day 4:
(on the plane) I must mention what a lovely morning I had in Dublin. I woke up earlier than everyone else and didn't want to just lay there so I got ready for the day and went on a walk. I was just in such a wonderful mood soaking in the morning. I talked to the cashiers when I bought some water and snacks for later and tried to get one more fix of Irish accents, walked along the River Liffey and sat on a bench thinking for while, then decided to stop at a souvenir shop I'd passed (there aren't a whole lot of them in Dublin, but I sort of wanted to get a legit Claddagh ring). The shop I saw didn't have any, but a little jewelery store down the way had some decently priced ones. The shopkeeper was so charming and helpful and we chatted about my travels and I told him I knew you weren't supposed to buy Claddagh rings for yourself but he said that's just an old wives' tale. I ended up getting a Trinity Knot which means eternal love. I guess since I got it for myself it symbolizes eternal love for myself, but it could also represent that I believe eternal love exists. I'm thinking the latter. Anyway, it was the perfect way to say goodbye to Dublin and probably my second favorite thing that's happened this trip after the Galway tour.
We are now on our flight to Berlin and I'm trying to get over my anger at Ryanair after they made me check my backpack, claiming it was too big to be a carry-on, even though it wasn't any bigger than Meghan, Nikki or Kait's. Plus I watched so many people with way bigger carry-ons board the place. (insert profanities) 35 euros down the tube.
Later in Berlin in the evening:
Showers, showers, showers! Praise the good Lord Jesus I'M CLEAN!!!!!!!!! 36 Rooms Hostel is so much more legit than the Dublin hostel. During the taxi ride from the airport we listened to the cab driver's Johnny Cash CD the whole ride. Lolz.
Yet later:
We walked around and looked for food and ate at a pizzeria. They guy didn't speak English so I had to try to pronounce zupa di broccoli and explain I wanted soupen. Then we went for a walk and found a place with 3.50 euro cocktails. It was a Mexican cantina. In Germany. We are unbelievably diverse. It was called Que Pasa and we drank yummy drinks. And I did drink German beer at dinner so don't worry, I'm not missing the true German experience.
Day 5:
Went on a free walking tour and gained a new and expansive appreciation for Berlin and its history (see facebook album for further info). After the tour we went to see a part of the Berlin Wall that had the two walls and the death strip in between. It's something I never fully understood the significance of until I saw the way the wall could divide even a neighborhood in half, cut through a graveyard, make a church inaccessible because it was in the death strip, and just change people's lives and separate them from loved ones for decades. After the wall we made our way to meet Meghan's friend Shannon who works in Berlin. We ate dinner at a sandwich place that had these sort of paninis with cabbage - it was so good and now I'm craving anything with sauerkraut. We chatted with Shannon and her roomies for a bit - poor girl had re-torn her acl after having surgery - and then went to Que Pasa for another round of cheap, fruity drinks. "Give me two pina coladas, I gotta have one for each hand"..Done. In German.
Day 6:
I'm currently on the U ban (German metro) headed towards the last stop on the line which is where Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp is. I'm very excited to experience this. I keep thinking about the Holstein classes I've taken, and I can't believe I'm physically going to visit a place that we've talked about. I feel like I used to have such a prejudice against Germany, but I'm so glad yesterday I got to hear their story. I'm realizing how much they've taken responsibility for what happened in the Holocaust and how they are doing so much to make sure people never forget the victims. There are so many memorials here and I think it will at least help to prevent history from repeating itself again. And I think it's quite respectable that they're trying. Obviously, not every individual in the country feels the same way, but then again, not every individual was guilty in the first place. It's easy to blame, but hard to accept blame especially when there can never be one clear answer about who's really responsible. It's also amazing how recent all this history is. 1945 was not that long ago in the grand scheme of things, and the Berlin Wall has only been down for twenty years. Reconstruction in Berlin from WWII was still being finished 3-4 years ago. It's easy to think that all this is dry words for the history books, but people are still living through the effects. Alright the U Ban's getting bumpy. More after the Sch. visit.
Later:
I'm too exhausted to talk about the camp right off the bat. We toured it, came back to the hostel for a siesta, and then went to dinner at an Indian restaurant with Hindu Buddhas out front. Then Nikki and I wandered around looking for ice cream and I said 'hallo' and 'danka' (hello and thank you) to the clerk and felt accomplished.
Anyway, the camp. I wasn't affected as much as I thought I'd be. The tour was a bit rushed and I didn't get to really spend time at the exhibits. I was struck by how lovely and calm the scenery was in comparison to the history. One thing that scared me, though, was the extermination bunker because this camp wasn't a death camp so they wanted to keep the other prisoners from knowing people were being killed. They disguised the extermination bunker as a doctor's office complete with a waiting room playing classical music. There was a hidden room and when the prisoner went to have his/her height measured against the wall, they were shot in the back of the head. There was a small gas chamber where about 30 women were killed and an infirmiry and morgue where autopsises and experiments took place. The morgue was the part I really felt the weight of those who had laid there - probably because I managed to get away from the tour group for a moment and have some time alone.
I was sort of bothered by our tour guide's way of talking about the camp and making it seem melodramatic - yes it was horrible, horrible, horrible but there's so much more to it and so many angles to consider. To say the Germans were sadistic (as the tour guide kept emphasizing) is too easy. Obviously, we all have some sort of capacity for darkness. How much of an effect does the environment and situation have? What would I have done in the place of a German wanting the best for my family and friends? I don't think there's any answer but that just proves we can't make blanket statements about everyone. Or can we? The doctor's office extermination bunker was sadistic, no way around it. The things that happened are beyond words. I don't know what to feel or how to respond. It's just too bug. Too, too, big, like the overwhelming height of the stones in the Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe. Big and cold and rough and impossible to get ahold of.
Day 7:
Slept in, took a shower, got ready and started of to enjoy our last day in Berlin. We went souvenir shopping, I ate a real bratwurst from a street vendor (mmm), more shopping, and ate a last meal at a fancy German restaurant. Now we're back at the hostel repacking. We'll pay Que Pasa a farewell visit, and we have to be out of the hostel tomorrow by 4 AM. Whew, Barcelona here we come! They better let me take my backpack on as a carry-on or imma start throwing punches.
Day 8: Easter Sunday
Note to self: Never, ever fly at 7 AM again. A) I looked blankly at the security clerk and asked her to speak English and she laughed at me and told me 'laptop' was English. Fail. B) I got through security and faced a glass wall and asked a guard where to go. He pointed at the green arrow above his head. I'm glad Berlin's last impression of me was that of stupider than usual American. Eventually we made it to Spain, found our hostel after a scare of not being sure it existed (google maps actually failed us and gave us directions to the hostel's old location). Our hostel is amazing. The guy who runs it is named Hugo and he's so nice. He's making everyone paella for dinner. We took a bus tour of Barcelona, but I kept dozing off so I missed a few key aspects. And by a few I mean a lot. The city is extremely pretty, though, and has a distinct vibe. I found a cathedral for Easter mass, but I had to stand in the back because the security guard couldn't understand I wanted to get in for mass and I didn't know how to say it in Catalan.I got so homesick there because I just missed being with the fam on Easter and it sucked feeling unwelcome at church. I love all this traveling, but I'm ready to be home. I miss the people I can spend forever with and not turn into a rabid bitch around. Constant time with my traveling companions is driving me bonkers.
Day 9:
Kait and I went to a cafe down the street for breakfast. I was loving my huevos, tocino, papas fritas, y cafe con leche until something dropped from the ceiling onto my arm and started crawling. I started shrieking and flailing but I didn't know how to say 'cockroach' in Spanish to explain my crazy behavior to the confused-looking waiter. (shudder) Thank God I was wearing long sleeves.
We took the metro to find a tram and go to the top of Mount Tibadabo. The view was gorgeous! There's an amusement park at the top, and even though we didn't ride any rides, it was such a fun atmosphere. From here we separated and Kait and I went to go find the Pedrero and Sagrada Familia, both designed by Gaudi. Kait and I stopped for a crepe and took pictures of a church we assumed was the Sagrada Familia before we realized it was just a random, pretty church. We then found the real Sagrada Familia (beautiful) and then wandered our way past the Arc de Triomf, Zoo, Parc de la Ciutadella, and a maze of narrow alleyway markets to the Museo Picasso which was amazing and now I want to learn more about Picasso. We wandered around the streets after and eventually got dinner at the same place we had lunch at yesterday. I had paella and this crazy delicious pork dish, and we shared a jug of sangria. Much great conversation ensused, as to be expected. It was pretty much the perfect day.
Day 10:
Hit up la playa for some fun in the sun, and had a little too much fun because we are now all quite crispy, but the beach was lovely minus the annoying hawkers wandering around repeatedly trying to sell massages and sandy coconut. We applied aloe vera and continued our day with shopping on La Rambla. I miss British sales people who ignore customers until we approach them. The shop keepers on La Rambla made me not want to buy anything because they were all up in my grill and some were incredibly creepy. Hugo made dinner for us again (seriously, this hostel is too good to be true). We're getting all packed up (well, I'm not because I'm writing) and tomorrow I want to buy fresh strawberries from the market and walk to a park in honor of Adam Winters and his past adventures to Barcelona. :)
Day 11:
Woke up, packed, wandered down La Rambla, shopped at the market, bought fresh (non-sandy) coconut, had lunch sitting under palm trees, wandered to the docks, wandered to Parc de la Ciutadella, wandered to buy helado, wandered to dinner, wandered to the hostel to pick up our bags and bid Hugo goodbye with heavy hearts, wandered to the airport, long, long, long trip home. So tired.
Present day reflections: If I were to put a soundtrack to this trip, it would switch back and forth between Dashboard Confessionals 'Everybody Learns from Disaster' and Garth Brooks 'Two Pina Coladas'. It was definitely a whirlwind, definitely exhausting, but definitely worth it all.
And now ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for: Let's talk about the Royal Wedding, yeah?
I had one day in between getting back to London and the wedding, and that was spent in the company of my friend Sarah Albert, visiting from Edinburgh, Scotland, where she has been studying all year. Friday, Little Sarah, my roommate Kari, Meghan, Nikki, Kait and I made our way to the bus stop at 4:30 AM, got to Victoria Station and walked to Buckingham Palace. I estimate we got there by 5:30, and there was already a crowd gathered - early birds like ourselves, over-nighters, and the crazies that had been camped out there for days. Sarah and I got separated from the pack early on because I had no desire nor will to fight for a place up front. We instead settled in a nice spot pretty close to the mall behind a group of 4 mums, 1 grandmum, and 13 children who had spent the night there. The mums reminded me of Jackie Tyler from Doctor Who and were entertaining to watch as they donned Union Jack wigs and scarves and defended their circle of lawn chairs and yoga mats with immovable strength. I felt very safe, even when the ever-moving crowd threatened to flip me over one of the lawn chairs and snap my legs in half. The Jackie Tylers yelled at everyone to stop pushing and I was saved. It was my honour to return the favour when some sassy loud mouth behind me talked about pushing through their circle. I was set to defend those thirteen children like my own. The kind/sane people in our section (myself and Sarah, the Jackies and kids, two Canadians behind me, and a mum, daughter, and boyfriend to my left) joined forces to protect each other from the baddies (the sassy loudmouth, other shameless shovers, and a drunk American woman) and keep our hard earned places from being stolen.
At 9 AM things started happening. Cars came in and out of Buckingham Palace, and even though we didn't know who was in them, we cheered and waved anyway. As it got closer to 11, the excitement intensified. One of the Jackies had someone on the inside and a headset, and she reported to us when Kate got into the car 'looking radiant.' I was able to catch a glimpse of white as she drove past. Last the Queen drove through and the sight of her bright yellow dress cheered me to the core.
I bought a program for 2 quid and followed along as the wedding was broadcasted from loudspeakers. Miraculously, the loud people around me shut up for the 'I will's' (after much aggressive shushing from multiple parties) and as we cheered from the street, I felt so happy to be able to share in this with the British. I don't think I'll ever be able to sing 'My Country Tis of Thee' again without switching to the words of the English national anthem. God save the Queen.
When the ceremony was over, we waited for the wedding procession to take their loop around London and return to Buckingham Palace. I had a perfect view of Kate and Will's open top carriage, and the rest of the Cinderalla-esque carriages of the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh and the other members of the wedding party.
The crowd then began shifting for the balcony kiss. They barricades where to be taken down so people could get closer to Buckingham Palace, but some barricades weren't and in the mad rush of the crowd, Sarah and I leapt over a fence and barricade and joined the queue, getting separated in the process. We waited in eager anticipation and when one of the curtains on the door of the balcony rustled, everyone freaked out and soon the newlyweds emerged, smiling and waving. The rest of the royal family came out as well and we all watched as William kissed Kate. More smiling and waving ensued, then another kiss, and then there was a flyover by the air force.
Getting out of there was a nightmare, and I was sure I was going to pass out, but I eventually made it to open space and was able to breathe and move normally again. Now that I'm no longer sick to my stomach, sore, and utterly exhausted I can easily say I'm glad I went. It feels pretty good to be present for a fairy tale come true.
From the journal of Sarah M. Kosch (just an fyi: the 'We' in Ireland equals myself and my fellow study abroaders Meghan, Kait, and Nikki along with my visiting friend and coworker at the Englert, Kristal. Kristal was only with us for the Ireland leg, though [because she went home, not because she got lost]):
Day 1:
Well, our hostel is pretty shitty, but I guess that's what hostels are good for, eh? But otherwise Ireland has been phenom. This morning was a little nuts trying to catch our bus by bus at 4:30 AM to get to the airport, but we made it a-okay. Our first stop after dropping off our bags at the hostel was to hit up the Jameson Distillery where we had a tour and quite a bit of whiskey. I was in a good place. We then proceeded to the Guinness Factory where we walked around, pulled our own pint, and then checked out the Gravity Bar with its 360 degree view of Dublin. By this time we were starving and pretty exhausted so we had dinner at a pub and now we're back at the hostel laying low. Tomorrow is our Galway bus tour and it's Kait's birthday! We will be going out fo sho!
Day 2:
Wow, so Galway stole my heart. Breath. Taking. We stopped at a Bronze-age tomb and a little town called Doolin (our awesome bus driver PJ's hometown) for lunch, then onto the Cliffs of Moher. Goodness is was easily one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. The misty Atlantic stretching into infinity past the towering cliff faces. So grand. So awe-inspiring. It's nominated to be one of the Seven Wonders of the World, and it's got my vote hands down. We stopped at another cliff without barriers so we could get right to the edge. I could've stood in one spot for hours. Last we stopped at a fairy castle, and with the oncoming twilight and high tide, it was a legit Kodak moment. When we got back to Dublin we had dinner at an American style diner (which I did not choose, thanks - I hate going to places like that when we're in EUROPE) and my chicken basket made me sick or the water here or something, but the point is that our crappy hostel ran out of toilet paper and I had to use paper out of this notebook. I think I've gotten as low as I can go. Anyway, Meghan and Nikki came out with Kait and I while Kristal rested with a migraine and we heard an Irish man sing Galway Girl. What better birthday present than that?
Day 3:
This morning was slow-going, but we finally got on the move and took a peek in Trinity College, but people were graduating so we felt like we were intruding. Now we are sitting in Saint Stephen's Green and soaking in the sunlight. It's beautiful weather once again. Ooh note to self: Buy leather jacket. I borrowed Kristal's last night and it was way bad ass. Ooh another note: I keep thinking about how Oscar Wilde and Bram Stoker lived here and walked these streets and maybe even sat in this green! It's making me want to write poetry. (note: the version appearing here was later revised on the flight to Berlin)
To Dublin
First things first-
The hostel smells like piss.
The key: Don't stay.
The promise: The grass is greener.
I sit in damp earth and pick clovers.
I feel sunshine and sweat and let the green soak into my unwashed and will stay dirtied body
(when showers are dirtier than me what's the point?)
The point is I met an old man at the pub and he told me he saw an American woman drink four pints of Guinness and walk across the river Liffey. "Right over the water," he said. "Then she walked back and had four more." He said he didn't know what happened to her after that. "She probably walked home," chimed in his friend. I laughed with my pint in my hand and loved the twinkle in their wrinkled eyes. Later, my own chime sounded but it was too late for puns. Still - stout floats eternal.
Secondly, minute details and our vision is stolen by misty ocean days and cliffs that plunge my stomach just by looking.
You say breath.
I say taking.
Whiskey warm and a bus driver named PJ. We bounce down narrow roads and take pictures to try to hold onto the shifting landscape. No matter, something always eludes us - Illusions in digital - the blue is never quite right.
Third night in the hostel I dream about Nebraska kisses and the way the stars look above a campfire. I'm not homesick, just homebound with familiar videos on repeat in my head. I dream of hot showers and clean hair and fall asleep in somebody else's blankets.
In the morning, I go out early and buy water just to have an excuse to say good morning and smile and hear the cashier say, "Have a good day, love," and I love this place with the dirt and the train tracks and the alleys of broken glass and the silver knots that mean eternal love.
I slip it on.
I make it a part of myself.
The film reel rolls on and shifts to open hands on my heart.
Later: After the park we wandered to Saint Patrick's Cathedral and the Dublin Castle, both of which weren't all that spectacular. Kristal kept saying how she told us Dublin could be explored in half a day. I guess she's right, but I'm glad we spent all day there today. Kristal, Kait, and I split off to see the Writer's Museum, though Kait ended up not wanting to pay so it was just Kristal and I. It was sooooo neat though. There was a first edition of Dracula and a ton of stuff about Oscar Wilde and I learned a lot about other Irish writers like Joyce, Yeats, Beckett, etc. Note to self: I really need to read Ulysses. After that we wandered around sort of shopping until we met up with everyone for dinner at O'Neil's where I had Irish beef and Guinness stew - omg so good. I need to find the recipe when I get back to the states. We hung out at the pub and watched a football match for a bit, left to do a bit more shipping and then came back to the hostel to figure out how to pack everything that we've bought. Tomorrow - Germany!
Day 4:
(on the plane) I must mention what a lovely morning I had in Dublin. I woke up earlier than everyone else and didn't want to just lay there so I got ready for the day and went on a walk. I was just in such a wonderful mood soaking in the morning. I talked to the cashiers when I bought some water and snacks for later and tried to get one more fix of Irish accents, walked along the River Liffey and sat on a bench thinking for while, then decided to stop at a souvenir shop I'd passed (there aren't a whole lot of them in Dublin, but I sort of wanted to get a legit Claddagh ring). The shop I saw didn't have any, but a little jewelery store down the way had some decently priced ones. The shopkeeper was so charming and helpful and we chatted about my travels and I told him I knew you weren't supposed to buy Claddagh rings for yourself but he said that's just an old wives' tale. I ended up getting a Trinity Knot which means eternal love. I guess since I got it for myself it symbolizes eternal love for myself, but it could also represent that I believe eternal love exists. I'm thinking the latter. Anyway, it was the perfect way to say goodbye to Dublin and probably my second favorite thing that's happened this trip after the Galway tour.
We are now on our flight to Berlin and I'm trying to get over my anger at Ryanair after they made me check my backpack, claiming it was too big to be a carry-on, even though it wasn't any bigger than Meghan, Nikki or Kait's. Plus I watched so many people with way bigger carry-ons board the place. (insert profanities) 35 euros down the tube.
Later in Berlin in the evening:
Showers, showers, showers! Praise the good Lord Jesus I'M CLEAN!!!!!!!!! 36 Rooms Hostel is so much more legit than the Dublin hostel. During the taxi ride from the airport we listened to the cab driver's Johnny Cash CD the whole ride. Lolz.
Yet later:
We walked around and looked for food and ate at a pizzeria. They guy didn't speak English so I had to try to pronounce zupa di broccoli and explain I wanted soupen. Then we went for a walk and found a place with 3.50 euro cocktails. It was a Mexican cantina. In Germany. We are unbelievably diverse. It was called Que Pasa and we drank yummy drinks. And I did drink German beer at dinner so don't worry, I'm not missing the true German experience.
Day 5:
Went on a free walking tour and gained a new and expansive appreciation for Berlin and its history (see facebook album for further info). After the tour we went to see a part of the Berlin Wall that had the two walls and the death strip in between. It's something I never fully understood the significance of until I saw the way the wall could divide even a neighborhood in half, cut through a graveyard, make a church inaccessible because it was in the death strip, and just change people's lives and separate them from loved ones for decades. After the wall we made our way to meet Meghan's friend Shannon who works in Berlin. We ate dinner at a sandwich place that had these sort of paninis with cabbage - it was so good and now I'm craving anything with sauerkraut. We chatted with Shannon and her roomies for a bit - poor girl had re-torn her acl after having surgery - and then went to Que Pasa for another round of cheap, fruity drinks. "Give me two pina coladas, I gotta have one for each hand"..Done. In German.
Day 6:
I'm currently on the U ban (German metro) headed towards the last stop on the line which is where Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp is. I'm very excited to experience this. I keep thinking about the Holstein classes I've taken, and I can't believe I'm physically going to visit a place that we've talked about. I feel like I used to have such a prejudice against Germany, but I'm so glad yesterday I got to hear their story. I'm realizing how much they've taken responsibility for what happened in the Holocaust and how they are doing so much to make sure people never forget the victims. There are so many memorials here and I think it will at least help to prevent history from repeating itself again. And I think it's quite respectable that they're trying. Obviously, not every individual in the country feels the same way, but then again, not every individual was guilty in the first place. It's easy to blame, but hard to accept blame especially when there can never be one clear answer about who's really responsible. It's also amazing how recent all this history is. 1945 was not that long ago in the grand scheme of things, and the Berlin Wall has only been down for twenty years. Reconstruction in Berlin from WWII was still being finished 3-4 years ago. It's easy to think that all this is dry words for the history books, but people are still living through the effects. Alright the U Ban's getting bumpy. More after the Sch. visit.
Later:
I'm too exhausted to talk about the camp right off the bat. We toured it, came back to the hostel for a siesta, and then went to dinner at an Indian restaurant with Hindu Buddhas out front. Then Nikki and I wandered around looking for ice cream and I said 'hallo' and 'danka' (hello and thank you) to the clerk and felt accomplished.
Anyway, the camp. I wasn't affected as much as I thought I'd be. The tour was a bit rushed and I didn't get to really spend time at the exhibits. I was struck by how lovely and calm the scenery was in comparison to the history. One thing that scared me, though, was the extermination bunker because this camp wasn't a death camp so they wanted to keep the other prisoners from knowing people were being killed. They disguised the extermination bunker as a doctor's office complete with a waiting room playing classical music. There was a hidden room and when the prisoner went to have his/her height measured against the wall, they were shot in the back of the head. There was a small gas chamber where about 30 women were killed and an infirmiry and morgue where autopsises and experiments took place. The morgue was the part I really felt the weight of those who had laid there - probably because I managed to get away from the tour group for a moment and have some time alone.
I was sort of bothered by our tour guide's way of talking about the camp and making it seem melodramatic - yes it was horrible, horrible, horrible but there's so much more to it and so many angles to consider. To say the Germans were sadistic (as the tour guide kept emphasizing) is too easy. Obviously, we all have some sort of capacity for darkness. How much of an effect does the environment and situation have? What would I have done in the place of a German wanting the best for my family and friends? I don't think there's any answer but that just proves we can't make blanket statements about everyone. Or can we? The doctor's office extermination bunker was sadistic, no way around it. The things that happened are beyond words. I don't know what to feel or how to respond. It's just too bug. Too, too, big, like the overwhelming height of the stones in the Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe. Big and cold and rough and impossible to get ahold of.
Day 7:
Slept in, took a shower, got ready and started of to enjoy our last day in Berlin. We went souvenir shopping, I ate a real bratwurst from a street vendor (mmm), more shopping, and ate a last meal at a fancy German restaurant. Now we're back at the hostel repacking. We'll pay Que Pasa a farewell visit, and we have to be out of the hostel tomorrow by 4 AM. Whew, Barcelona here we come! They better let me take my backpack on as a carry-on or imma start throwing punches.
Day 8: Easter Sunday
Note to self: Never, ever fly at 7 AM again. A) I looked blankly at the security clerk and asked her to speak English and she laughed at me and told me 'laptop' was English. Fail. B) I got through security and faced a glass wall and asked a guard where to go. He pointed at the green arrow above his head. I'm glad Berlin's last impression of me was that of stupider than usual American. Eventually we made it to Spain, found our hostel after a scare of not being sure it existed (google maps actually failed us and gave us directions to the hostel's old location). Our hostel is amazing. The guy who runs it is named Hugo and he's so nice. He's making everyone paella for dinner. We took a bus tour of Barcelona, but I kept dozing off so I missed a few key aspects. And by a few I mean a lot. The city is extremely pretty, though, and has a distinct vibe. I found a cathedral for Easter mass, but I had to stand in the back because the security guard couldn't understand I wanted to get in for mass and I didn't know how to say it in Catalan.I got so homesick there because I just missed being with the fam on Easter and it sucked feeling unwelcome at church. I love all this traveling, but I'm ready to be home. I miss the people I can spend forever with and not turn into a rabid bitch around. Constant time with my traveling companions is driving me bonkers.
Day 9:
Kait and I went to a cafe down the street for breakfast. I was loving my huevos, tocino, papas fritas, y cafe con leche until something dropped from the ceiling onto my arm and started crawling. I started shrieking and flailing but I didn't know how to say 'cockroach' in Spanish to explain my crazy behavior to the confused-looking waiter. (shudder) Thank God I was wearing long sleeves.
We took the metro to find a tram and go to the top of Mount Tibadabo. The view was gorgeous! There's an amusement park at the top, and even though we didn't ride any rides, it was such a fun atmosphere. From here we separated and Kait and I went to go find the Pedrero and Sagrada Familia, both designed by Gaudi. Kait and I stopped for a crepe and took pictures of a church we assumed was the Sagrada Familia before we realized it was just a random, pretty church. We then found the real Sagrada Familia (beautiful) and then wandered our way past the Arc de Triomf, Zoo, Parc de la Ciutadella, and a maze of narrow alleyway markets to the Museo Picasso which was amazing and now I want to learn more about Picasso. We wandered around the streets after and eventually got dinner at the same place we had lunch at yesterday. I had paella and this crazy delicious pork dish, and we shared a jug of sangria. Much great conversation ensused, as to be expected. It was pretty much the perfect day.
Day 10:
Hit up la playa for some fun in the sun, and had a little too much fun because we are now all quite crispy, but the beach was lovely minus the annoying hawkers wandering around repeatedly trying to sell massages and sandy coconut. We applied aloe vera and continued our day with shopping on La Rambla. I miss British sales people who ignore customers until we approach them. The shop keepers on La Rambla made me not want to buy anything because they were all up in my grill and some were incredibly creepy. Hugo made dinner for us again (seriously, this hostel is too good to be true). We're getting all packed up (well, I'm not because I'm writing) and tomorrow I want to buy fresh strawberries from the market and walk to a park in honor of Adam Winters and his past adventures to Barcelona. :)
Day 11:
Woke up, packed, wandered down La Rambla, shopped at the market, bought fresh (non-sandy) coconut, had lunch sitting under palm trees, wandered to the docks, wandered to Parc de la Ciutadella, wandered to buy helado, wandered to dinner, wandered to the hostel to pick up our bags and bid Hugo goodbye with heavy hearts, wandered to the airport, long, long, long trip home. So tired.
Present day reflections: If I were to put a soundtrack to this trip, it would switch back and forth between Dashboard Confessionals 'Everybody Learns from Disaster' and Garth Brooks 'Two Pina Coladas'. It was definitely a whirlwind, definitely exhausting, but definitely worth it all.
And now ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for: Let's talk about the Royal Wedding, yeah?
I had one day in between getting back to London and the wedding, and that was spent in the company of my friend Sarah Albert, visiting from Edinburgh, Scotland, where she has been studying all year. Friday, Little Sarah, my roommate Kari, Meghan, Nikki, Kait and I made our way to the bus stop at 4:30 AM, got to Victoria Station and walked to Buckingham Palace. I estimate we got there by 5:30, and there was already a crowd gathered - early birds like ourselves, over-nighters, and the crazies that had been camped out there for days. Sarah and I got separated from the pack early on because I had no desire nor will to fight for a place up front. We instead settled in a nice spot pretty close to the mall behind a group of 4 mums, 1 grandmum, and 13 children who had spent the night there. The mums reminded me of Jackie Tyler from Doctor Who and were entertaining to watch as they donned Union Jack wigs and scarves and defended their circle of lawn chairs and yoga mats with immovable strength. I felt very safe, even when the ever-moving crowd threatened to flip me over one of the lawn chairs and snap my legs in half. The Jackie Tylers yelled at everyone to stop pushing and I was saved. It was my honour to return the favour when some sassy loud mouth behind me talked about pushing through their circle. I was set to defend those thirteen children like my own. The kind/sane people in our section (myself and Sarah, the Jackies and kids, two Canadians behind me, and a mum, daughter, and boyfriend to my left) joined forces to protect each other from the baddies (the sassy loudmouth, other shameless shovers, and a drunk American woman) and keep our hard earned places from being stolen.
At 9 AM things started happening. Cars came in and out of Buckingham Palace, and even though we didn't know who was in them, we cheered and waved anyway. As it got closer to 11, the excitement intensified. One of the Jackies had someone on the inside and a headset, and she reported to us when Kate got into the car 'looking radiant.' I was able to catch a glimpse of white as she drove past. Last the Queen drove through and the sight of her bright yellow dress cheered me to the core.
I bought a program for 2 quid and followed along as the wedding was broadcasted from loudspeakers. Miraculously, the loud people around me shut up for the 'I will's' (after much aggressive shushing from multiple parties) and as we cheered from the street, I felt so happy to be able to share in this with the British. I don't think I'll ever be able to sing 'My Country Tis of Thee' again without switching to the words of the English national anthem. God save the Queen.
When the ceremony was over, we waited for the wedding procession to take their loop around London and return to Buckingham Palace. I had a perfect view of Kate and Will's open top carriage, and the rest of the Cinderalla-esque carriages of the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh and the other members of the wedding party.
The crowd then began shifting for the balcony kiss. They barricades where to be taken down so people could get closer to Buckingham Palace, but some barricades weren't and in the mad rush of the crowd, Sarah and I leapt over a fence and barricade and joined the queue, getting separated in the process. We waited in eager anticipation and when one of the curtains on the door of the balcony rustled, everyone freaked out and soon the newlyweds emerged, smiling and waving. The rest of the royal family came out as well and we all watched as William kissed Kate. More smiling and waving ensued, then another kiss, and then there was a flyover by the air force.
Getting out of there was a nightmare, and I was sure I was going to pass out, but I eventually made it to open space and was able to breathe and move normally again. Now that I'm no longer sick to my stomach, sore, and utterly exhausted I can easily say I'm glad I went. It feels pretty good to be present for a fairy tale come true.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Something in the Air
Brighton is a tease. One would think with the Atlantic Ocean pulsing a steady ebb and flow, it would be a committed place, decisive and true, but instead the combination of sea-breeze and sun is intoxicating, filling the heads of those who drink it in and causing them to, shall we say, lose their balance, especially when circumstance nudges them especially hard in one direction or another.
Or maybe it’s just me.
Whatever the case, my visit there this weekend was full of ups and downs, attraction and repulsion, but also an overarching giddiness of a sun-drunk lover stumbling past the shops, the lights of the pier, the smell of a carnival and the crunch of feet in the pebbles of the beach. It was a love/hate relationship, heavy on the love.
Love at First Sight
Friday had been grooming me for love with its continuation of a three day streak of sun and 70 degree weather. It just took one glimpse of the beach and its backdrop of unparalleled deep blue that can only be created by the kiss of sea and sky for me to be head over heels. Our hotel was called the King’s Hotel, and it was a friendly-looking white building only divided from the beach by a street. Apparently the hotel had originally been three private Regency residences which I only found out after our stay was over, but now I understand why we had to enter a maze every time when wanted to make our way from the lobby to our room and vice versa. However, I still have no explanation for why the beds were on wheels with no way to lock them, unless the owner just wanted to take rock and roll to a whole new level.
Despite these oddities, our GSE crew was content with our living arrangement and set out to forage for food with a spring to our steps. We had Thai and I tried samosa for the first time. Mmmm. Deep fried deliciousness. Then Mike the program director pointed us in the direction of the clubs and left us to our own devices. As the night progressed, these devices evolved into wandering around Brighton, stopping at a convenience store and buying blue raspberry WCK, and skipping stones as we sat on the beach drinking in the sound of the waves and the feel of the night on our faces.
Trouble in Paradise
It started when a baby screamed in pain outside my window early Saturday morning. Oh wait, that’s just the seagulls. No, actually the day started off just fine. We went to explore The Lanes (a cluster of little shops and markets) and the Royal Pavilion (the exotic-ly furnished [as in from China, you pervs] palace of King George the IV) before eating lunch on the pier (a place complete with carnival rides, arcade games, food stands full of burgers, chips, ice cream, and every other food that’s probably super bad for you, and all those other things that go so well with sun and water).
Then Meghan and I attempted to sun bathe on the beach even though it was a tad chillier than acceptable sun-bathing weather. In the moments when the wind lulled and I had straight sunshine on me, it was quite nice. Unfortunately, these moments were so infrequent that we called it quits early and went to do more shopping (and flirting with an English skater-boy in the DC store we chanced upon). We had a GSE meal at a Mexican restaurant with warm conversation and a couple shared pitchers of margaritas. It should have been followed by a perfect evening of Brighton raging and the slim but existing chance of running into aforementioned skater-boy, but trouble had been brewing. All afternoon something had been a little off. The stupid roller beds combined with the location of the dresser and my natural gracelessness had caused me to give myself a bruised lump in my knee. My eagerness for a hot shower after being chilled by our sun bathing attempt had made me inattentive to which side of the tub the shower curtain was on, this leading to slight to heavy flooding and a call from reception because the room below us was getting leaked on. I was out of my zone and I couldn’t figure out why. I thought I recaptured it in my chicken fajitas and piña colada, but I was wrong. Oh so very wrong.
We left the Mexican restaurant. We parted ways with Big Mike for the night (resolved in our conclusion that we are his favourite GSE group ever). We found Club Audio and made our way inside cover-free. We waited in the bar for the club to open, sitting in a raised area with a table and large booth and debating if we should get drinks yet or not. We realized we didn’t know if the club part was upstairs or downstairs. I volunteered to find out. I stepped off the raised section. It was dim. The step was abnormally tall. I am abnormally uncoordinated. In half a second I was transformed from a vivacious prancing girl to a vivacious crippled girl laughing so I wouldn’t cry.
Needless to say, I did not go clubbing last night.
No, I hobbled back to the hotel with Meghan, reassuring two drunken men that ‘no, I was not a lesbian, I was simply holding my friend’s arm BECAUSE I COULDN’T WALK,’ and then talking with a group of native Brighton-ers, one of which was also limping, but she turned out to have high heels that didn’t agree with her feet. I reassured her that flats were just as dangerous.
My night of Brighton merry-making and been degraded to lying in the hotel bed watching the only thing on TV, which was, ironically, ‘The Idiot Awards.’
This morning we took the train back to London, and much hobbling later, I am now back in Nido using my unpacked backpack to elevate my foot and a bag of ‘Mushy Peas Cook and Serve’ from the 24 hour shop to ice my grotesque looking protrusion of an ankle.
(Sigh) I forgive you Brighton. It’s easy to hurt the ones we love. I’ll never know why you pushed me away, but I’ll never regret the times we had together. The blue bruising on my ankle is the same shade of your sea sky kiss.
XOXO
Sarah
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
I love Paris in the Spring (and probably always)
Bonjour!
This past weekend I had the privilege of exploring the beautiful city of Paris. I had heard some horror stories about the French and their disdain of American tourists, but luckily for us we were either ignorant enough to have no idea we were being mistreated or charming enough that the French were willing to give our attempts to fit in an 'A' for effort. Even now being back in London for two days, I can't quite break the habit of saying bonjour, merci, and pardon (with the accent on the 'o'). I'm a frightening out-of-control tri-lingual anomaly at the moment. I also had to adjust my pedestrian habits because French drivers actually stop for people crossing the street, while Londoners would rather kill you than be late.
On Friday, we walked to Kings Cross at 4:20 AM (coffee was soon obtained, thank God) and were in Paris by about 9 AM (mind you, France is an hour ahead of England). We proceeded to optimistically proceed with our baggage to walk to the Arc de Triomphe since we couldn't check into our hotel until 2. Unfortunately, we underestimated how the gap on the map translated to real life and with much pain in our backs and uncomfortably full bladders we got some pictures of the Arc and quickly moved on to find seats, food, and toilets. We ate 'The London Breakfast' (so, so, so ironic) outside at a cafe (the weather was gorgeous bt dubs - at least 75 degrees and sunny) where we had our first interaction with the French. Our waiter was beyond nice and seemed to be very excited to say 'cheers' to us on every possible occasion. I was immediately at ease with being an American in Paris.
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| The Arc de Triomphe |
From there we walked to the Eiffel Tower, which was not what I was expecting. Maybe it's because I've only seen it in the movies lit up, but the huge metal structure in the daylight was less glamorous than I expected. Still, the mall full of green grass and the chance to put my bags down and lay in the sun more than made up for any disappointment. I think one of the most important life lessons I'm learning over here is that sometimes rudeness is necessary. It sounds horrible, but with all the hawkers roaming around one moment of kindness can cost you three euro (as I discovered by making eye contact and smiling as I passed a man who then proceeded to force a string bracelet upon me and demand payment).
Then it was time for the most challenging part of the day: learning how to use the French metro system and finding our hotel. The map my flat-mate had lent me proved to be invaluable and I became a metro pro after a bit of trial and error. After much more walking and some directions from a man on the street we found our hotel. We had our own room but shared a toilet for the whole corridor, but overall I have no complaints. Even though it was a bit grimy, it was exactly what I imagined a cheap Paris room to look like - huge windows that opened to a balcony overlooking the street, charming little beds and a bureau, the feeling of comfortable wear and tear in the city. We dropped off our things and then went back towards central Paris to find a place to eat dinner. We found a little cafe/bakery and I ate a chocolate thing with a name I could not pronounce in the mall by the Musee du Louvre in the warm spring air before walking up the Champs Elysees (Shaump ee lee zay). As sleep deprivation and fatigue took its toil and tempers began flaring we called our wandering quits and went home to get a good night's sleep for the next day's adventures.
Saturday we took the metro to the Palace of Versailles, sampled hot chocolate at Angelina's, visited the Louvre, then rushed back to the hotel for a bite to eat and a change of clothes before our bus tour and Moulin Rouge show. At the bakery we stopped at for a quick sandwich an older gentleman engaged us in conversation seeming to want to practice his English and rather than give a bad impression of Americans, I let him ramble on to the point that we were almost late. We made it to the meeting point, sweating and panting in our dresses and heels only to find out that they had only booked us two spots by mistake. Thankfully, they fixed it and we went on an "Illumination Tour" of Paris's major landmarks by night. The Eiffel Tower was much more impressive when it was sparkling. Because they ended up having to wait until the later Moulin Rouge show, we then had a boat tour along the Seine in between which was perfectly awful because it was raining and there were too many people for the seats that were safe from the elements. I ended up sharing a random stairwell with an elderly German couple who redeemed the boat trip with how delightful they were. They only spoke enough English to establish that I was American and they were German and we both knew of Boston (where the husband's sister lived), oh and the wife offered me chewing gum. They were beyond sweet.
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| The Palace of Versailles |
Then after waiting in line for ages, we took our (cramped) seats in Moulin Rouge with two English couples celebrating one of their 70th birthdays. We shared a couple bottles of Champagne and watched the most intriguing show I've ever seen. So. Many. Boobs. The French really are all about nudity. There was also a juggler, acrobats, and a really hilarious ventriloquist (all fully clothed), so overall it was pretty awesome. Afterwards, our tour bus took us back to our hotel and we passed out from an exhausting but epic day.
Sunday we started off with visiting the Musee D'Orsay, personally one of my favorite parts about the trip. I've recently become quite enamored of Van Gogh (cough, after watching the Doctor Who episode 'Vincent and the Doctor.' Don't judge me.) and D'Orsay had a pretty good-sized collection, along with some other really amazing pieces. It was much better than at the Louvre where everyone just wanted to see the Mona Lisa and therefore I was unable to appreciate it as a work of art because all I could see were peoples' heads as they jostled me in the ribs. The experience sparked a really interesting conversation between Kait and I about what makes art good. It seems to me the crowd around the Mona Lisa was only there because they knew of it, but there were tons of other paintings that I would saw were just as intriguing as a woman without eyebrows. Of course I realize it's completely subjective and people could say I only like Van Gogh because I know of him, but I actually was drawn into his work whereas the mass swarming the Mona Lisa made it seem like a cheap tourist attraction in my opinion. But perhaps this is a topic for a different blog post.
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| D'Orsay |
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| The Louvre |
After the museum we walked along the river towards Notre Dame, admiring the little street venders along the way. We popped in the Cathedral for a bit, did some souvenir shopping, and ended our adventures with sandwiches, cheese, and wine sitting outside at the Cafe de Notre Dame before making our way back to the train station.
On a scale of 1 to 'perfect,' I'd give the trip a solid 'pretty fricken fan-tastic.' Merci, Paris. Au revoir!
Monday, March 14, 2011
Air, Austen, Aliens, and Ale: Further Adventures to Acknowledge
Hey gang! It's been awhile hasn't it? In my defense, I think I'm in some sort of time warp where things go faster and slower at the same time. It doesn't feel like that much time has passed over all, but when I look back the gaps between weeks seem much longer than weeks. It's weird, I know. For both our sakes I'll just do a brief roll of the highlights:
1) Oxford University - gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. If I could go anywhere for postgrad studies, Oxford it would be. To add to the architectural beauty is the fun facts of how much Harry Potter was filmed there. I'm not going to go into details because there is the possibility (and by possibility I mean definite chance, but I want you all to still be surprised) of a Harry Potter special after I get a few more key photos. Check out this old time feel:
2) Hyde Park - the largest park I have ever been in. One of these days, I have to go running there. Alas, I forgot to take my camera when Nikki and I ventured there. Just picture a really pretty park that goes on for miles.
3) Edinburgh, Scotland - My study abroad group and I got to spend a weekend there. It was fabitty fab fab to the max. I thought bagpipes and kilts were just a stereotype, but I saw at least ten bagpipe players out on the street and countless kilts...even in the bar we went to. They rock it there, and I 100% approve. It was also a nice change from the fast-paced living of London, and there was a beautiful view from atop the Edinburgh castle:
Other perks of the trip included a visit with Sarah Albert, my University of Iowa friend who has been studying abroad in Edinburgh since September, a spiffy hotel room with real beds! (as compared to my student housing ones), and a surprise discovery of a store with Doctor Who merchandise. Needless to say, I now wake up every morning to David Tennant's foxy good looks sticky tacked to my wall.
4) This past Saturday was a bus trip to Stonehenge and the city of Bath. I literally had the perfect day. Not only did I get to absorb fresh air and sunshine and walk around in GRASS!!! (good God I didn't realize how much I missed it until I saw it stretching out in a gentle wave of green...this is how excited it made Meghan and I:
oh and this is Stonehenge:
)
but I also got to see a town where Jane Austen (author of Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion -- two of my all time favorite books) lived for some of her life. After seeing the namesake of the town (the Roman bath, a natural hot spring with supposed healing powers although now it's more harmful than helpful with all the lead and stuff in it
) we visited the Jane Austen Centre and had tea in a room decorated in the Regency style with a portrait of Colin Firth's Mr. Darcy on the wall. I had tea and crumpets. For real.
The crumpets are these bread things in the corner. They're English muffins with honey basically. Only better because they're not American English muffins.
And my latest adventures have been with the wonderful Kelsey Dallas and Adam Winters (roommate and replacement in #3 Ridgeland) who have traveled across the pond on their spring break. We spent yesterday roaming around Westminster after a St. Patty's Day parade and then indulging on a truly British pub experience at the Compass where I had roast chicken, mash, roast veg, Yorkshire pudding, treacle tart, and a nice mug o' ale.
During our Westminster adventures we wandered to Westminster Abby where we somehow got in even though it was closed. And we found Britain's oldest door. Can you spell E-P-I-C?
Ooh and this is the view from St. James' Park. One of my favorites. It's right near Buckingham Palace.
Today we woke up for a meander to the British Museum and ended up staying there for six hours. I don't think I've ever stayed in a single museum that long before. They had maps that led you to around the museum to find 100 objects that summed up the history of the world and we hit a good 70 of them at least. I got to see Olduvi handaxes aka the first human stone tools (I learned about them last term in Human Origins so that was especially cool), mummies, statues from the Parthenon in Greece, giant horse statues,
etc, etc, etc x 6 hours. Whew, I'm collapsing into bed as soon as I finish this post. Kels and Adam are off to Dublin until Thursday, but I can't wait to see what this weekend brings!
And with that, I...ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
1) Oxford University - gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. If I could go anywhere for postgrad studies, Oxford it would be. To add to the architectural beauty is the fun facts of how much Harry Potter was filmed there. I'm not going to go into details because there is the possibility (and by possibility I mean definite chance, but I want you all to still be surprised) of a Harry Potter special after I get a few more key photos. Check out this old time feel:
2) Hyde Park - the largest park I have ever been in. One of these days, I have to go running there. Alas, I forgot to take my camera when Nikki and I ventured there. Just picture a really pretty park that goes on for miles.
3) Edinburgh, Scotland - My study abroad group and I got to spend a weekend there. It was fabitty fab fab to the max. I thought bagpipes and kilts were just a stereotype, but I saw at least ten bagpipe players out on the street and countless kilts...even in the bar we went to. They rock it there, and I 100% approve. It was also a nice change from the fast-paced living of London, and there was a beautiful view from atop the Edinburgh castle:
Other perks of the trip included a visit with Sarah Albert, my University of Iowa friend who has been studying abroad in Edinburgh since September, a spiffy hotel room with real beds! (as compared to my student housing ones), and a surprise discovery of a store with Doctor Who merchandise. Needless to say, I now wake up every morning to David Tennant's foxy good looks sticky tacked to my wall.
4) This past Saturday was a bus trip to Stonehenge and the city of Bath. I literally had the perfect day. Not only did I get to absorb fresh air and sunshine and walk around in GRASS!!! (good God I didn't realize how much I missed it until I saw it stretching out in a gentle wave of green...this is how excited it made Meghan and I:
oh and this is Stonehenge:
)
but I also got to see a town where Jane Austen (author of Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion -- two of my all time favorite books) lived for some of her life. After seeing the namesake of the town (the Roman bath, a natural hot spring with supposed healing powers although now it's more harmful than helpful with all the lead and stuff in it
And my latest adventures have been with the wonderful Kelsey Dallas and Adam Winters (roommate and replacement in #3 Ridgeland) who have traveled across the pond on their spring break. We spent yesterday roaming around Westminster after a St. Patty's Day parade and then indulging on a truly British pub experience at the Compass where I had roast chicken, mash, roast veg, Yorkshire pudding, treacle tart, and a nice mug o' ale.
 |
etc, etc, etc x 6 hours. Whew, I'm collapsing into bed as soon as I finish this post. Kels and Adam are off to Dublin until Thursday, but I can't wait to see what this weekend brings!
And with that, I...ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
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