Back in the US of A

Well, my wonderful semester abroad has come to a close.
I arrived back into the US on Saturday, and I already miss London. I've already noticed some little differences since coming back - everyone here is "right" centric. All of the doors are opened on the right, and people walk down streets on the right. People even circle the grocery store in the opposite direction than in England! (It's weird to think that I've subconsciously picked up these "left" centric habits while abroad, and that I'm only realized it when everyone else moved in the opposite direction.)

To show how at home I was becoming - after going to the pub quiz at ISH for many weeks, Andi and I finally placed second, winning £10 for our knowledge of British culture and general knowledge. I've made a list in my head of my favorite pubs and spots in the city, and have recommendations for anyone who is going to London. I've ranked all of the major parks in/around London. I even miss reading the London Evening Standard when I catch the tube from class!

On a personal side - this semester has been great for my health. Since the city is so expensive, especially with the exchange rate, I barely went out to eat. England doesn't really use preservatives, which makes the food last shorter, but makes it healthier. I also didn't always want to use the buses to get around, so I clocked around 20 miles of walking each week. All together, I was burning calories and intaking healthy food. I'm feeling good.

My last days abroad were relatively uneventful, as I was studying for my finals and finishing off essays. However, on the last nights, our entire program bonded together through both studying and preparing to say goodbye to the semester. I can't wait for next year because I have a bunch of new friends that I haven't seen yet in College Park. For the last night, we all went out to a club in Piccadilly (Tiger Tiger), and I stayed up to watch the sunrise in Regent's Park. Our celebration had a sense of finality to it - when people left back to their flats, we hugged goodbye because we realized that our magical time was over. While I will see a lot of the people on this trip later on, the setting will be completely different. But no matter where we all end up, we'll always have London.

The Humdrum London Life

Since returning on my trip across Europe, I have settled back into the London lifestyle.
Literally after getting off the plane from Venice, I felt at home again. Waiting in line at customs, we ran into other UMD students returning from their travels. We were an hour away from London, but were still local enough to encounter people we knew. Took a bus to Baker Street and arrived to the flat around 2am. Dropped my bags and gave my bed a great bear-hug.

I've spent enough time here now that I've got a great sense of the area. Everyday when I walk to class, I pass the same construction workers, give a head nod to the guy who always holds the traffic signs, and catch the same train on the Tube. Not only have I figured out how the public transportation works, I've got a routine. I'm no longer a lost tourist - I live here. People ask me for directions, and I don't hesitate to answer (Buckingham Palace, you say? I recommend you take the Westminster stop to see Big Ben, and have a nice walk through St. James' Park.)

A funny thing that's happened since I've come back - London has started to live up to the stereotype. It's rained almost every single day for the last 10 days. I guess the drought was too good to be true, and now the clouds are catching up for lost time. One unfortunate component of being familiar in the city is that things aren't as novel. I don't try to plan trips to go see some museum or monument, because I've already seen them! London just feels like "another place" to be in.
Until I get down to the Thames. It always is a sharp reminder that I'm not an a few hour away from my hometown.

As the semester winds down, I am being piled on with work again. I'm glad that I had the tourist experience already, because I would regret not having enough time to do it now otherwise. The majority of my time recently has been work-related, and little exploration.

Went to a pub quiz last Tuesday. Got third to last, but was only separated by 6 questions from the winner. The first time we went, we got second to last (what a shame for the last team - we didn't know a thing about British pop culture!), so we're slowly working up the ranks. I predict victory in only..10 weeks. Too bad I only have 3. (oh dear lord, has time really flown by so quickly?)

Culture - What is it?

I have returned from my whirlwind two week trip of Europe!

Cities visited: Barcelona, Milan, Catania, Rome, Venice

I've talked about my time in Barcelona a little bit, but to summarize – I loved the casual atmosphere, the wonderful weather and location, and can't wait to go back again.

I went to Milan for a day and a half, and even that felt a little too long. The main tourist area was the Duomo, which I covered in a few hours. However, I did befriend a local restaurant, and we talked about where I was from (Washington DC, since it's the most recognizable thing from Maryland) in stilted Italian and English. Milan had a strong tourist presence, so people were quite open in trying to speak English with me. However, this changed as I moved to my next location.

I took a 20 hour train ride from Milan to Catania, effectively covering the entire length of Italy. I was in a car with an Italian couple, and neither of us were able to converse. All communication resulted in charades. They seemed quite friendly. In the morning, the train was put on a ferry and we arrived in Messina just after the sun rose. The train wound its way down the Sicilian coastline, passing lemon groves and beaches. It was beautiful. By that point, I was alone in the car, so for the last few hours of my travel, I had my head practically out the window. I caught up with my friends in Catania, and began the second half of my spring break. For the first week, I scraped by with rudimentary Spanish and Italian, and having little plans. I would wake up, point at the map and decide to go wherever my finger landed. The second week, we all had to be a little more accommodating to fit everyones' plans.

Catania was not a big tourist area, so we had to rely on our Italian much more. As the week went by, I definitely picked up some phrases (“Scusi, Grazie, Tutto, Si” etc.). The main struggle for me was to not speak in Spanish, as they are so similar, that I can't separate them in my head. Oh well.

There are a lot of things I could talk about what I did over the week, but one of the most poignant things that will stick with me was when we went to Taormina for a day. You had to take a cable car from the bus station to the beach, and on our return trip up the hill, we were in the car with an Italian family. We were talking amongst ourselves, and the father turns to us and says (paraphrased roughly) “Americans? No culture. You only have McDonalds, Burger King and Coca Cola.”

To be honest, we were so in shock (and his accent took a second to understand) we didn't know what to say. But it really put a sour note on the rest of our stay in Sicily, and little bit of Rome. As rudeness goes, that's possibly one of the most insulting things I've heard. He effectively said “everything you do, have done, or ever will do is stupid and had no value.” On the bus ride home, and whenever we had some down time, my mind would always come back to what he had said.

At first, I felt shaken because when I thought about it, I couldn't figure out if he was right. I mean, he was factually correct, we do have McDonalds, Burger King and Coca Cola. But what was “American” culture? It's such a notoriously diverse country that you can't generalize our culture. I couldn't ascribe what my beliefs and traditions were to a larger scale, so maybe we really don't have an sort of identity that all Americans can agree with. (Man, if only this had happened earlier, I would have had so much to say during that online discussion on culture). As I became more distanced from the conversation, I realized that Italy has adopted quite a lot of American culture. There is a great irony for an Italian to mock the lack of culture in America while wearing a Nike tracksuit. But I still felt that was a petty victory for me, so I continued to reflect deeper. (I'm not getting into the pedantic fact that Americans have “no culture”. By definition, everyone who has grown up in any society has culture at some level). Looking around at the people walking by while we sat in cafes, I noticed that everyone was very similar. The hairstyles, clothes and other obvious external features were uniform. People go to cafes for hours to talk with the locals. With these basic observations, I can almost agree with his poorly-formed thesis. Italy, in contrast to the US, has a very well defined culture. Their traditions are much more prevalent and strongly followed, and therefore by his definition “Italy has culture.”

The diversity of America, and the difficulty in defining American culture is a component of the culture itself! Just amongst my friends I was traveling last week, we all had different tastes in clothes, hair, music, books, religion – pretty much anything that could be put as a subset of culture. Just because the culture is more amorphous or liberally-spread, it doesn't mean that doesn't exist.

To culminate my reassurance that I had some sort of culture (whatever that word means, anyway), I went to meet my friends' uncle in Rome. He lived in Rome for the year studying at the American Academy in Rome. (If you don't know what that is, look it up, read about it, and be amazed).

To be honest, it was one of the most eye-opening things I've seen before. It makes me want to take back all of the times I had described something as “incredible” “amazing” and other superfluous words, so that I could use them now for greater effect. He is a landscape architecture who is able to brush shoulders with poets, composers, musicologists, classicists and many other renowned people of their field. As we sat at lunch, he would talk about his work and who was sitting nearby. I felt as though this was the equivalent of going back to the 1920's and drinking with Fitzgerald, Hemingway and all of the artists of the time. The Academy is an intellectual haven that I hadn't realized could still exist. So sum up, one of the most famous grounds for cultural and intellectual genius to flourish in Rome, the capital of Italy – is American.

Thoughts From Places: Barcelona

This week is the first week of my spring break.
Last week, I had a lot of deadlines for work to meet, so I didn't have too much fun exploring London. Luckily, I have the time now!

I flew to Barcelona on Sunday morning, and will be here until tomorrow. I booked my flight here on Friday, so this entire week is complete improvisation. I don't know when I'm going to go tomorrow - I just have to be in Sicily on Saturday to meet up with friends. The lack of a schedule, and lack of my surroundings is really invigorating. Unlike London, where I was familiar with before arriving, I had no idea what Barcelona is like.
I flew into Girona Airport and took an hour bus ride to Barcelona. And while it may sound stupid to say, Spain is completely different from England. It's like it's a different country or something. The ride brought me through farmland with rustic terracotta houses. While there is countryside in England, it is not farmland and is covered in hedgerows. I noticed some graffiti on some abandoned farmhouses saying "Catalonia Spain", which is pretty indicative of the sentiment of the area. (Look into the distinction between Catalonia and Spain and the history - quite interesting).
Upon arrival to the city at 1pm, I grabbed my bags and headed off in a random direction. I had to check into my hostel at 4pm, so I had some time to explore. The weather here is fantastic - sunny and 68 degrees. I walked by many outdoor seating areas for restaurants, full with people clearly enjoying the outdoors. While I'm obviously in a city, it somehow feels like it is a quiet village.

The stereotype of Spanish "calmness" is quite prevalent. People move around without a rush, and the food service is much slower. Not that I don't like it, it's just a marked difference from London. I went on a tour yesterday around the Gothic section of Barcelona, and I could hear the pride the tour guide had of the area. Saint Maria del Mar (A massive, beautiful cathedral) was built in 54 years - quite quickly for a cathedral of that size. She pointed this out to compare it to how long other buildings in the area took to construct, noting "We're in Spain, so it makes sense" when it took over 100 years for another cathedral. This sort of liberality with time is quite a crucial component with the area. I woke up this morning around 7am to the sunrise, and found that the street were almost completely empty. The only other people moving around were tourists as well.

I still haven't seen a lot of the businesses near my hostel, because they are quite frequently closed. Some cafes open from 9-11, then close until 5pm. I don't know how they can make money with those hours, but somehow they do.

For the first time on this semester, I've encountered something that is out of my previous comfort level. I'm surrounded by people speaking Spanish or Catalan, and I don't frequently hear English. My Spanish is quite rudimentary, so I feel a bit isolated. Because I've never been here before, I stare at the map for quite a while to figure out what direction I want to head next. But there is something exhilarating by traveling alone, having no set plans, and being completely anonymous in a city. I literally woke up this morning and decided to stay in the city for another day instead of hopping on a bus or train to another city. The lack of responsibility is fantastic, especially compared to last week when I had multiple essays and presentations to do. I suppose you need the lows to fully enjoy the highs.


Some Things I saw yesterday:
La Rambla
Parc de la Ciutadella
La Pedrera
Saint Maria del Mar
Carrera d'Avinyo
Barcelona School of Fine Arts (Picasso)
Piccasso's art school
SPACE INVADER paste
Banksy stencil
Placa de George Orwell (aka Placa Tripi - previously notorious for addicts)
2000 year old walls of the original city
Placa St Felip Neri (Spanish Civil War)
Cathedral de Saint Eulalia

In Which I Feel a Bit Foolish

As the title says, I feel a little bit foolish.
I went on a hike yesterday around Battle (as in Battle of Hastings) with my Hiking club. As I was saying in previous posts, I was really looking forward to becoming more involved in my club, so that I could start to meet British people and branch out. I've been to some of their social events earlier, and was a little disappointed that a lot of the members were international students.
Yesterday, I got up at 6am, got on the coach at 8am and started talking with some fellow hikers. The first couple I talked to were from outside Philadelphia, and were literally from rivals of my high schools. I've encountered this pretty frequently, I've met people who are friends with some of my best friends back home without even trying. At this point, it's almost unnatural to not meet someone who has an inkling of other people that I know. A bit frustrating, as I'm a quarter of the world away from home and still am surrounded.

2 hours later, we arrive in Battle and being to hike. We cut through the back of a churchyard, and enter the fields. I haven't hiked for a while, and I felt like I was struggling on the hills. After the first 20 minutes, I remembered that hiking is maybe one of my best skills, and subsequently dominated.
We meandered through many fields where unknown plants (tiny grassy shrub things? probably carrots, I don't know) were being grown. Since we were in the countryside, we literally ran into every kind of farm animal. Horses, chicken, geese, donkeys, dogs, the works. It was so relieving to wander through the fields, getting muddy and damp from the rain. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed of the outdoors - London is huge, but it's urban. The only grass I see there is in the manicured lawns of Regents Park.

We ended up walking on a field which was labeled "Airplane Crossing Footpath" much to our amusement. As we continued crossing, we realized that it was a grass runway. Very quaint. For the last 45 minutes of the hike, the rain steadily increased, and conversations diminished. This was my place to shine - I love the rain, and I've hiked through all weather types before. I ended up leading the group up and down muddy hills for a while until we hit the main road back to town.
Total mileage - about 7 miles in 3 hours.

Back in town, we had 3 hours to wander until our coach left. I separated from the group to explore - I love walking around effectively anonymously in an unknown town to observe people. Battle is a tiny town, but is steeped in history. The Abbey in the center of the town is a remnant of the aftermath of the Battle of Hastings. The high altar was placed King Harold was killed during the battle.
After walking around for an hour alone, I met back up with some of the group and had tea in the Pilgrim's Rest. The place was built in 1420, and is an authentic inn/lodging. Incredible.

Resting by the fire, we all got talking about our lives.
Back to my foolishness - This entire time I've been looking for the "real" experience of London and England. Whenever I talk to anyone from America, I feel like I'm wasting my time (not really, everyone has been lovely) by not conversing with the locals. During our discussion, I figured out that of the group of 9, only one was actually from England. Our group was comprised of Canadians, Dutch, French, Finnish, Chinese, and Argentinians - that's when it hit me.

I'm living in London. The city is notoriously international and diverse. I was talking with people who were from all over the world, living in London for school (mostly Masters degrees) and all had their own story to tell. Instead of living in the countryside where the "real" English live, I'm surrounded by a diversity. If I was in a smaller town, the culture may be easier to define, but also much easier to get bored of. With a city as dynamic as London, I can go to different boroughs and encounter completely different styles of life. There isn't a true English feel, because it's not entirely English. New York City is not fully representative of the US, but it does contain Americans.

So upon reflection of the conversation, I began to feel foolish. I didn't know exactly how to define my expectations of this semester excursion, and so I felt pressure that I was doing it incorrectly. But now I know that I'm definitely not.

The RAF and Intelligence

I went for a walk around the Royal Courts of Justice earlier in the week. That area is amazing. The Royal Courts are used for civil cases (criminal cases are at the Old Bailey), and there are always news vans outside for any live coverage. My professor recommended that we go in to watch a court proceeding at some time. I find it quite interesting that something that I would probably find boring in the US, sounds novel and enjoyable in London. I've walked by the BBC building every week, and I always see people lining up with tickets to go to live tapings of different televisions shows. And once again, I'm interested in going even though I probably wouldn't back home. But I digress.

Near the court is Australia House (representative of Australia in British soil - an embassy, from what I can tell). I wanted to pop in, as I heard that the scenes of Gringotts Bank from Harry Potter was filmed there, but I got distracted by an amazing church. St. Clement Danes is a church right next to the Royal Courts that is the Central Church of the Royal Air Force. It was originally founded back in the 10th century, and then rebuilt in the 1680s century by Christopher Wren after the Great-Fire-of-London-rebuilding-frenzy Wren had. During WWII, the church was bombed (May 10th,1941) (You could still see the shrapnel in the walls! Is that weird to find that incredible?) and rebuilt once again in 1958.
Interestingly, the church received funds from families of the RAF - it became a central hub for RAF related facts of interest. The interior is covered in crests honoring the RAF, and other air forces who fought with them in World War 2. There are books filled with names of airmen who were killed during their missions from the US, Poland, and Britain. Look up the story of Polish Airmen - it's astounding. I can't summarize it well, nor will I have all of the pertinent facts.
The crypt has plaques to the Danish (?) Underground civilians who were killed helping downed pilots return to England. I struggle to imagine the situation they were put in, and actively worked to fight against. (Ditto with the Polish. And everyone else alive during that time.) Having been defeated and occupied by German forces, instead of being obsequious, people decided to rebel. Reading about and witnessing evidence of it raises so many questions. How did ordinary people organize an underground spy network to undermine an organized military? How strong they must have been! A point that I keep belaboring, but still not enough - people are amazing.

Outside are the statues of Sir Arthur Harris (bombing of Dresden) and Hugh Dowding (Battle of Britain) and Samuel Johnson. Yes, the first two men did much more than just those two things, but once again, this post isn't about their life story. Look it up! Learn!
Over to Samuel Johnson and speaking of intelligence! (Get it? Maybe.) The area is full of old pubs such as the George, Cheshire Cheese and Devereux Chambers (now a law firm). The pubs used to host the intellectuals of London of different eras, including Samuel Johnson, Mark Twain, Alfred Tennyson, Charles Dickens, W.B. Yeats, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Sir Isaac Newton. So in short, I geeked out about all of them.
After seeing the tribute to the RAF, and being inspired by ordinary people, to move on to seeing local hangout spots of some intellectual heavyweights, I felt that I had reached my capacity of amazement that day. Imagine walking barely 100 yards and encountering completely different aspects of London's history. If I hadn't done some prior reading and scoping of the area, I would have missed all of the subtle beauty of the area. It makes me wonder whether people who have lived here long term don't know what they're missing. I also wonder what sort of history (I'm sure it's not as nuanced or old) I'm missing back at home.


Fun fact- in the novel 1984, Winston Smith sees a picture of St. Clement Dane (not specified, but we all know it's supposed to be) and is told how it once stood in the area in front of the Palace of Justice (Royal Courts of Justice, anyone?) before being demolished in the revolution.

Embankment and the Human Experience?

For my History Class this week, we walked around near Embankment. For those not in the know, Embankment is a Tube stop right near the Thames. In fact, the name "embankment" is because the area is an artificial bank over the Thames. In 1862, Embankment was built by architect Joseph Bazalgette. This was installed to create a sewer system for London, which in turn narrowed the Thames River. By shrinking the width of the river, the current became deeper and flowed quicker, which changed the topography of London from then on.
From the1608 to 1814, Frost Fairs were held occasionally on the frozen Thames during the winter. Because the water flowed so slowly, it was able to freeze and solidify enough for people to open a marketplace and hold celebrations. With the reconstruction of London Bridge and the development of Embankment, the Thames' current increased and was no longer likely to freeze over again. It's amazing to how our involvement and development can alter nature. Looking across the Thames, seeing London Eye and Westminster Palace and other iconic buildings of the skyline, it's breathtaking.
I never lived in a city before this semester; I lived in the countryside when I was young and suburbs more recently. The swell of people moving all around at all times of the day, having their own individual dreams and plans they are trying to fulfill is just amazing. I remember one of my first "epiphanies" was that everyone has their own story, and London is the best example I've found. I walked around Embankment with my class, appreciating the majestic buildings and old churches - but I was more appreciative of the experience in of itself.
We cut through the "Legal" District of London near Lincoln's Inn and was immediately transported back into a different world. Barristers and Solicitors walked around with their subfusc on, wigs in the windows. The park area was isolated from the city completely, it was almost silent. Old men walked in suits, putting their tattered briefcases in their extravagant cars. I felt completely out of my element - there was no way we blended in. I found myself wondering whether or not even they took their pomp and tradition seriously. Either way, it was an incredible experience to witness another component of a life I have never seen, nor will live.

Samuel Johnson on London

“Why, Sir, you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.”

Continuation of the Excursion (Might get heavier than expected?)

After Windsor Castle, we headed to Stonehenge. I'd been to Stonehenge years before, and surprisingly enough, it hadn't changed. The weather got dreary as soon as we arrived, rainy and cold. The area is quite flat, so standing on the top of the hill is quite windy. But we had a good time walking around talking with Tony about the possible theories of Stonehenge.
He mentioned Woodhenge (a henge made out of wood, easy enough to imagine) which was located nearby and its' significance.
Just how people are buried with a gravestone, and how in Jewish culture it's customary to leave stones at a burial site, stone has always been a symbol of death. It highlights the permanence of death, or rather the impermanence of life. (I'm all about permanence today, apparently). Likewise, wood is a living entity, which grows, feeds and can die. Between the two henges is a river. Reminiscent of the Ganges River in India, the River Styx in Greek mythology, Viking crematory practices (Ichabod Crane - Headless Horseman?) , water is a visible barrier between two worlds. Spirits/Undead?Evil forces cannot cross it. One interpretation of Stonehenges' existence is that it is a memorial to the dead. Woodhenge was a celebration of life, and where people may have the ceremony (funeral wake?) for the dead. The body would then be floated down the river and buried around Stonehenge.

I personally love that explanation. The symbolism of death is intrinsic to human nature - stone is a stark, desolate material that will outlast us all. While the fear, or at least thought, of death resides in everyone's mind, it is not necessarily faced daily. Instead of pushing the foreboding thoughts aside, we construct ceremonies and structures in our life to compartmentalize the fear. We have cemeteries, funeral homes and crematories. We have traditions of a wake, seeing the casket, offering condolences and sharing memories of those who have passed.
The idea that humans in 2000 BC had the same respect and reverence towards death really speaks volumes. Humanity has a collective consciousness, and there are universal principles that guide us. We may not have the same language, technology, or social constructs as people around the world or from different eras, but we are still mortal.
With such an overwhelming concern at the back of your mind, it's comforting to realize that no matter where you are, people are people. Grandly exaggerated and simplistic, sure, but it's still a good thought to hold on to. I may be thousands of miles away from my family, but I'm still surrounded by humanity.

Since it was raining heavily, we stayed for only twenty minutes before boarding the bus again. Once you see the group of rocks, you've seen them all.

Reflection - One Month In

I've been in London for just over a month now (Since Jan 18th), and it's incredible how fast the time has flown by.
When I first landed, I was staying in a hostel with a multitude of international travelers. Every night, I would hang out in the lounge area and chat with people from Australia and Brazil and all over the world. We could bond over the fact that we were all out of our element, and could ask "stupid" questions about the area. I remember that one Australian I met was looking for a job, and was wondering if I had any input about where and how to look. I had been in the country for a total of 18 hours, and I was "more experienced" than he was. The impermanence travel brings makes people much more open and willing to talk.
Later in the week, after everyone else in the Maryland program flew in, I was glad to have people I knew, or at least had a stronger connection to, to talk to. I could bond about the specific difference of American and English culture. There was a sense of familiarity, and we all huddled together to face the strange, unknown world of London.
At this point, I long for more. I enjoy being with Maryland friends, and I can tell that after this trip is over, those friendships will carry on. However, I haven't done enough exploration on my own yet. In my classes, they are predominantly Maryland students, so I struggle to find people of my age to branch out to.

My excursion last week was precisely what I needed. The night before, I was anticipating a horrible time, the weather forecast called for rain, and the departure time seemed so early for a Saturday morning. But as I continued to think about it, I realized that I was aching to move about. When I move about on weekends in London, I primarily hit the highlights -museums, and tourist attractions. I love seeing them, but it's not the true culture of London. (Ironic - I avoided it this weekend by going on a tour.)
Being able to take a bus around the countryside of England with tourists from other parts of the world was exciting. The locations were gorgeous, and I even imagined coming back to live in Bath (if only I had the money and flexibility!) later. But the real thrill for me was sitting next to an mid-20s Australian guy. He was working in London at PWC, and had his own experiences in the city. I could talk to him both about what his home in Australia was like, what he did in the London, and what he wanted to do.
In comparison, with my Maryland friends, I know where they're from, what they do - they're with me when they do it, and we make plans for the future together as well.

I can't wait for this weekend, I'm going on my first official trip with the Hiking Club from UCL to Waltham Abbey for a nice 7 mile stroll on Sunday. The last two weekends have really opened my eyes to how much country-exploring and culture-embracing I want need to do.

Saturday Excursion to Windsor Castle

Today I had my excursion trip to Windsor Castle, Stonehenge and Bath. We had to meet at 8:30 outside of ISH, so needless to say, it was a dreadful morning. Kidding.
Our tour guide/driver was Tony, who was originally Irish but had lived in Connecticut and San Diego for most of his childhood. He was great, because he both had experience and knowledge of the US, but still was much more of an insider than we were. He also mentioned that he had his Masters in History, and he clearly knew his stuff.

Our first stop was at Windsor Castle, arriving precisely when it opened to the public at 9:45am (random time, right?). The Queen was residence, which could be seen by the Royal Standard being flown. Windsor Castle is her "weekend" home, and she stays in her private quarters while tourists wander throughout the more public exhibits. Any attempt to describe this place would fall short, but I'll try anyway.
I had been to Windsor when I was much younger, so I recognized the layout of the keep and where the guardhouse was. However, the most impressive part were the State Apartments. Aka, the extravagant places that the King and Queen would host banquets, dinners, and other fancy soirees. There were rooms decorated in homage to the "art of war", with busts of famous generals (the Duke of Wellington, Winston Churchill and his predecessor John Churchill, etc.) and were covered in weapons taken from rulers the British Empire had conquered.

There were rooms for the Queen to grant audiences to people who would petition for her help, and the rooms were completely gilded in gold and paintings. The dining room had paintings on the ceiling and a frieze depicting Greek Gods surrounded by food. Every piece of furniture was either commissioned by master artisans of the time period, or were historical in another context. Every single room had a different theme and purpose, and it was incredible to realize that almost any object you saw was among the most valuable things in the world.

After walking through the State Apartments, we luckily caught the Changing of the Guard. The guards marched in while playing drums and flutes, and was very serious business. Although I have to add, the guard playing the bugle wasn't very good. Alas.
Right before we left to catch the bus away from Windsor, we popped into St. George's Chapel. It was also heavily ornate with high arched ceilings. The seats were roped off in most sections, which indicated how prestigious the people who were allowed to sit there must have been. Around the chapel were tombs to previous Kings and Queens. I also noticed that there were some markers on the walls and floor that were to commemorate people who were "benevolent and dutiful" to the monarchy in some way or another. As we entered the more private-looking sanctum in the front of the church, I remarked that I wondered where King Henry VII was buried. Without moving my feet, I looked down and realized that I was standing over him. The marker was part of the floor, like other "lesser" nobles had been. His grave/tomb/burial site also contained the remains of his wife Jane Seymour and Charles I.  How interested that someone as famous and notoriously egotistical wound up being buried in a (relatively, of course, it was still in a chapel inside of a castle) such non-descriptive way, and not even with his most recent wife.  There's definitely some good back story that I haven't heard yet that may explain this.

More on the rest of my trip later!

Walking around the Tower of London - History Class

For my History of London class, we went walking around the City of London. We met up at the Tower Hill Underground Station and walked from there to other monuments and buildings in the area. We stopped by the monument to the Merchant Marines who died in WWI and WWII. It was right next to the Tower of London, which has an interesting historical context. The tower was built in 1066 by William the Conquerer, and the areas around it were known for both public executions and being a "free" area of the city. People who would run to certain areas of the city to avoid being arrested or to avoid debts. Near the water was known for ruffians and other scandalous sorts of people. Interesting enough.

The memorial to the Merchant Marines was impressive, as there were wreaths of poppies (a tribute from the Battle of the Somme and later Armistice Day) everywhere. At the Vietnam Memorial, I haven't noticed such a prevalent presence of people paying tribute, merely tourists.

We then went to the Church of St. Olave - a Norwegian church that had an integral position in organizing the Norwegian rebel underground during WWII. It was amazing to walk in, realize that all of the statues to ships in the church was because Norwegian shippers were part of the rebel underground. During the Great Fire of London in 1666, there were so many people who died that the cemetery was overpacked with people. There were steps from the church up to accomodate for the number of bodies buried there.

It's incredible to me so walk around the City and realize that almost every building has its' history. Anything that was built before, and is still standing 1666 (Fire) was related to something that shaped London's future. We also went to the first synagogue in London, and the Guildhall. The synagogue provided refuge for immigrants during the 20th century. The guildhall allowed for different craftsmen to unite and provide support for each other. Later, the different guilds gained enough power to challenge the monarchy.

Unlike my personal history of the churches in America, the churches in England all have their unique and influential history. They can be tied to different pieces of European history. While the churches in US can be styled off of traditional Victorian or Tudor architecture, the English churches are the original.

There are ruins of Roman walls that surround the original City. I love Roman ruins and history, and seeing actual evidence of them juxtaposed with the modern buildings like the Gherkin and Lloyds was incredible. Overall, the depth of history in London is mind-blowing and I can't wait to explore more.

First Encounters at London Met

On Monday, I went to my first class at London Met. My campus is City, which means that it's based in the official "City" of London, not Greater London where my flat is. Moorgate is surrounded by business offices, and it's a really interesting dynamic. Instead of the more casual people I've seen walking around Regent's Park, everyone is in suits and look quite official.
Only 4 other people showed up to the seminar for my class (Industrial Economics), out of an expected 16. My professor was a little miffed about that, but carried on with the discussion at 12:00 promptly. I can't place her accent. She ran over the syllabus, and I'm really excited for the semester. We have a big coursework project where we have to analyze the market concentration of Hollywood, and the competitiveness of the market. (Yes, it's nerdy. It's also awesome.) My grade is determined by only two grades, the coursework and a final. I'm leaving early, so I'm going to have to take an alternative assessment for the final. I'll talk to her about that next week.

The hour between the seminar and the lecture, I walked around the City. I was amazed to look at the people going to lunch. Compared with my personal experience of the "Business World", it was so low-key. I noticed that a lot of people were walking in pairs and absolutely no one was on their phones. It seemed that when they take a break for lunch, they aren't still tied to the office. They can actually take a break. It's amazing. I wish that I could have done that last summer, even as an intern.

Lecture was filled with people who knew each other (three years in an Economics program would do that to you), so I didn't have many people to talk to except for one guy from my seminar. My prof went over the syllabus again, and added that the coursework was an optional group project. This seems to be an amazing opportunity - I can meet with other people in my class, and also get a better feel for how work is done here. I am a little worried about how to write papers here, as the standards definitely seem to be different than in America.

She also added "You are all adults, you can decide how you want to approach the coursework, and who to work with." This was also amazing to me. In America, I feel like all of my projects were either individual or group - no exceptions. Having the ability to choose how you wanted to is awesome. Related is the reading list. They give you a list of books to browse, not specific chapters to read. It places the responsibility of working and how to study on the student, not the teachers' instructions. I love the responsibility that's been placed on me.

The rest of the lecture was pretty consistent with what I was familiar with, but I'm still so psyched about the chance to work in a class that I'm fully excited for. Also, I have the chance to meet British students in my class. How great could is this!?

Queen Anne Street

I love how there is a separation in architecture at the end of the road, from the older traditional style to a more utilitarian apartment building. Emphasis on the traditional buildings because, well, they're more attractive. Just to the right is Welbeck Street, which is pretty awesome as well, it has a more obvious difference at the end of the street, with modern-looking office buildings. I just couldn't get a good shot of it without getting run over by a car. I'll try again later.
Today was 10° C, or 50° F. Pretty fantastic, especially for January.

First Days Alone in London

Yesterday, I checked in to my hostel (while bringing my bag over to here via the Tube, I suddenly had a feverish heatwave and was pale and sweating. When I showed up, I was completely drenched. I looked like the silly American stereotype, lugging too much baggage.) I finished The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood in the lobby, watched some snooker and then decided to go explore a bit when I was feeling better. It was drizzling slightly, but I persevered to endeavor south. I walked through Covent Garden and down Oxford Street, stopping into a coffee/bookstore to pick up another book since I had just finished my last. However, I failed to notice that the quaint little nook I thought that would be perfect was Russian. As in, every single sign and label and word in the place was Russian. So much for finding a book to read. (I did consider getting the Hobbit in Russian for a funny memento). Continuing down Oxford, I found a Waterstones and popped in. I thought it interesting to see people holding To Kill a Mockingbird and saying "Mum, I have to read this for my class" (In accent, of course). I guess great books are great everywhere. I picked up the first book of the Mistborn series by Brian Sanderson.

I returned to the hostel and did not move off the couch for the rest of the night reading. I finished it around 11pm (Hard to tell without a watch, but I like it that way) and headed to bed. My room had the other 5 beds full at the time, and none of the guys spoke any English nor seemed interested in charades. So no bonding stories, sorry. I woke up at what I thought was around 12 noon, but it turned out to be 8:30. I slowly got up and ready, returning to the couch to read amidst the hubbub of people checking in and out in the morning. I jumped on my computer and made sure that I don't have any emergency emails. Also, my charger isn't going to work here, the plug socket for the converter is wrong. Then I went back south to Oxford Street. I caught my reflection in the windows of some stores, in my jacket I look really English. It's awesome. 

I walked into a big department store like a Nordstroms on Oxford Street. It was quite upscale, but my jacket helped me blend in. I strolled by a computer department, so I picked up a new charger for my laptop. It was silly, when I was talking to the salesguy, my words came out in an English accent. It kind of tripped me up for a second, and then I realized it didn't sound strange to him, so I continued on with it. I figured it would weird him out if I switched accent mid-sentence. After all of that, I walked over to Hyde Park and enjoyed the scenery before turning back to the hostel. I grabbed a chicken avocado sandwich from Pret a Manger which I'm about to eat. And here I am!

I believe that has summarized the fun I've been having in London so far. Also, notice I only mentioned the sandwich at Pret? It's because I forgot to eat yesterday/this morning, too excited. Silly Mark.