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.