A Tale of Two Cities

I'm home now! I got in late Saturday night, but when the plane landed in Charlotte airport I cried like a little girl. Why!?!?! I guess I just realized I did not want to be here. Maybe it was a combination of too much flying and drugs and jet lag, but right then the last thing I wanted to hear was American accents. I didn't want to go back to a small town - or go back to not living on my own for that matter. I was really, really depressed and cranky and sad. It went away of course, because the second I drove through Old Greenwich and saw the Bagel Shop and Arcuri's Pizza and the Christmas lights they put up every year I felt very relaxed and happy to be here. Plus, I got such a great reaction from my little brothers it made me feel kind of loved ;-)
My best friend Thana (from Croatia trip) stayed over that night and we squeezed into my little twin bed for a sleepover like we were 12 years old. The next morning padded around in our slippers and made enough french toast to feed an army. Funnily enough, with all my brothers and parents and Thana's and my appetite - it disappeared within the hour. Then we stayed in our pj's and watched Harry Potter.
I loved being home and with my family and one of my closest friends. And to make it even more like home, it snowed! The weird thing was though, I felt like London had never happened. Home was so comfortable and so familiar it was like I had never been gone. I know that's a cliche, but that's because it's true. I miss the girls in my program desperately but for the first few days we were all back home we didn't really contact each other. And I'm almost positive the reason why was because it was like we had never met.
That sounds horrible and depressing, I know. But that's beause it is! However, I'm happy to be home, even more so because I didn't think I would be. I love everything about London and I thought it would be too much of a shock to come back here after making a life for myself across the world. Hearing so many American accents was a bit of a surprise, even though I did hang out with Americans in London. But here I'm not an outsider, which is midly comforting. Part of me though is not entirely sure that's a good thing.
I'm in New York now, helping my mom out with some work stuff, and coming into this city - well, I'm doing a lot of comparing. Plus, everyone here is now sick of me talking about London so I might as well write it down to spare them the pain of hearing me go on and on:
1. New York streets are wider. Good thing? After careful assessment I've decided yes. New York can seem big and daunting, but at least people can pass each other. I hate getting caught behind old ladies and couples making out and people with push carts. I mean, come on!
2. I love bagels. That is all.
3. I missed snow just a teeny bit because a) it's gorgeous and b) makes it feel more like winter. However, I didn't miss the cold at all. Or the ice.
4. I looked the "wrong" way when crossing the street on my first day and almost got hit by a car. Wouldn't it be funny if I got killed by a bus here, where I'm most familiar, and not in London where people drive like maniacs on the wrong side of the road? Haha. (That was meant to be read deadpan.)
5. New York smells. Not in a bad way (most of the time), but I didn't realize that London lacks the smells - hot dogs, coffee, Spanish food... urine, car exhaust, etc etc.
6. Points for London: no men (generally) who whistle obscenely on the street.
7. The subway system confuses me. I miss my Oyster card. Sometimes I take it out of its safe little cocoon in my purse and stare at it longingly; stroking its cover, wishing I could swipe it across that yellow circle... hmmmm. Well, maybe not. But still.

The End is Near!!!

I only have two weeks left in the semester! Where the hell did the time go? Seriously, I feel like I just got here yesterday. There has never been a better example of time flying when you're having fun.
I will be right back here on the 2nd of January '08, but if this semester flew by, there is no doubt in my mind that next semester will fly just as fast. Also, I've made some really good friends here and they have been a huge part of my experience. I love meeting new people but I really don't feel like going through the whole orientation/asking people their major/organizing my life again. And I know this is silly, but since my friends here have helped shape my life here, I'm scared maybe next semester wont be as fun. But again, I know I did all this on my own, etc etc, so I'm sure I'll be fine.
The thing with this program coming to an end is that I'm feeling like I got nothing done. I still haven't been to Westminster Abbey! I wanted to go for a run in Hyde Park, see the changing of the guards, go to Bath and Oxford and Cambridge... I'm looking back on the past 3 months and I think I just sat on my butt the whole time! So since classes are coming to a close and I've not a lot left to do I'm trying to cram in as much as possible into the next two weeks.
Last weekend my friend Marina from Davidson was here visiting from her study abroad program in Spain. She stayed with Suzanne, who also goes to Davidson, and the three of us hung out and cooked because that Saturday we had our own little Thanksgiving.
The real Thanksgiving came and went. I did some cool things with Marina and Suzanne --- we climbed to the top of St. Paul's cathedral and looked at the beyond amazing view, which thank God, was worth it as there were almost 500 stairs to climb to get there. One of the coolest things was the Whispering Gallery, where we pressed our faces up to the wall and whispered to each other and could hear each other perfectly even though we were over 30 meters away from each other. We also had high tea at a tea shop called, um... Tea (creative), eating cake and scones with clotted cream and jam, and then Marina and I took a ride on the London Eye! That was one touristy thing I hadn't done here yet and wasn't expecting to do because of the price. But it turns out that we got a huge discount with my student Oyster card and the line was miraculously short, so the end of my Thanksgiving was spent "flying" (as they call it - British Airways sponsors it) over London at night. We had two different panoramic views that day, one in the daylight at St. Paul's and one late at night on the London Eye.
Then we proceeded to cook. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday ever so I was really bummed I wasn't home, so I tried to make up for it by going all out. We spent three days cooking - Marina made amazing cranberry bread, I made three pies and we bought everything from turkey to stuffing to mashed potatoes and made cranberry sauce and candied yams. It was pretty delicious, actually. So we all piled in to Suzanne's flat, I had a few friends from my program come, Suzanne had some people from hers. I was with some of my closest friends and even though I couldn't be home this really was the next best thing. And mom, you're really going to love this - I made them all say what they were thankful for before we were allowed to eat ;-) (It's funny how true it is that we all grow up to be our mothers)
This past week I've had classes, and while they're not a joke, they definitely don't ask to be taken seriously. My favorite class, history, was spent at the Imperial War Museum where I stupidly went into the Holocaust Exhibit and making an idiot of my self by sniffling my entire way through. On Wednesday, my architecture teacher took us all our for a pint at the oldest pub in London. I really don't understand the drinking age in America, it is way too cool to have beers with your teacher to have our entire country pass it up...!
And in my quest to be getting out of my room and onto the streets of London before it's too late, my friend Aly and I went to go see Phantom of the Opera on Thursday night. We got super cheap tickets, and even though the seats were super close together and some lady behind us was fondling Aly's new Primark coat and there was a rail/multiple craning necks in front of us, the show really surprised me in being pretty fantastic. I've never heard the music or seen Phantom so the last 30 minutes of the show I actually was at the end of my seat (now I know why that's such a cliche), my hand pressed to my mouth, completely and totally involved in the show. Plus, I now have a huge crush on the Phantom and Aly and I couldn't stop humming on our way back home. That was until she got on the tube right as the doors were closing and I got left behind. Not a big deal since I know my way around but it was so funny to see her face that I couldn't stop laughing and since the theater had just gotten out, the tube was crowded and they pretty much thought I was a crazy person, smiling and laughing to myself.
Plans for the next two weeks? Class, finishing up my final papers, saying goodbye...
We take the Piccadilly line to school every day and since were stupid Americans that act like 10-year-old boys we think it's hilarious when the tube lady's voice says, "This is a Piccadilly line service to.... Cockfosters". Hahahaha! Get's me every time! It must be here calm British voice that cracks me up (I hope they really didn't fire here, that would be a tragedy). Anyway, our last weekend in Lodon we plan on riding the tube all the way to Cockfosters in zone 5, dressed in our Sunday best. Explanation: we were told to bring one fancy thing to London just in case - shows, events, whatever... most of us haven't worn our suit/tux/dress/ensemble so we will have one last big dinner together where we cook and sit in someones kitchen for hours, get all gussied up, and take our final tube ride to honor the infamous Cockfosters. Should be fun, can't wait! But it also means I leave the next day... Let's see if I can hold out on the waterworks until then ;-)

My girly weekend in Paris :-)

Since the beginning of the semester, my friends from Davidson and I had planned meeting up at some point during our time in Europe. Five of my closest friends from school are all in "the area". So, months ago my friends Alea, Kelsey, Suzanne and I planned a girly weekend in Paris. I know even as we age, women meet to talk inappropriately, eat cookies and paint each others nails (well, maybe not). At Davidson we make sure to get together as often as possible, and sometimes plan little get together we call lingerie parties (you can do what you want with that). Being abroad though means we haven't been in close contact for months and we desperately needed a reunion. But in PARIS? It doesn't really get much better then that!
This past Friday, the 16th of November, was they day and I took a day off work and left for Paris at 6 in the morning. I've found that leaving super early is a good idea because it's become a habit of mine to get lost and confused when I travel. But I swear this time it wasn't my fault! There was a transportation strikes in Paris so when I got to the airport, it was impossible for me to actually get anywhere. The plan was to stay at an apartment my two aunts rent out, which is in a really lovely part of the city. But I had no way of getting there! I was told there was a bus service working but since that was the only transportation available, the line was complete madness. I stood there about 15 minutes, not having moved an inch, when I realized I was wasting my day (despite leaving early - best laid plans and all that). The woman behind was English so I asked if she wanted to share a cab and thank God she said yes because it turns out I would have been at the airport for hours before ever meeting up with my friends. I accompanied her to the Arc de Triumph where I figured I could find my way to the apartment from there. Why did I think that was a good idea? I know I get lost easily and I had already spent 20 euro getting to the city center and the extra 10 would have been worth it because as I walked I got further and further away from where I needed to be.
It was FREEZING. I mean, the weather isn't all lovely and sunny in London, but the cold in Paris was much, much different. And it was windy. And I left my gloves on the plane. I wandered around aimlessly (and probably in circles) for a while until I found a metro. I was really happy at this point, thinking I did a damn good job of getting there. But sadly, I counted my chickens too early because the line I needed? Closed. And of course I found this out after sitting in the damp and smelly metro station for an hour listening to that stupid song they play in their stations over and over again (if you've been to Paris you know that annoying noise they play before some French person talks over the loudspeaker). Then I tried to walk above ground, figuring it would be a long walk but that it didn't matter. But I hadn't brought a map with me and in the end took a cab to the apartment for far more than I would have paid otherwise, and then gave the driver a ridiculous tip because I was so thankful I was finally there and out of the cold (phew!). The apartment was perfect! I've never been though my aunts have owned it for years. It's small and cozy and quiet. So while I waited for Alea (who is studying in Paris) and Kelsey (Florence) I snuggled up on the couch with some tea and a trashy magazine. And as soon as they arrived we screamed and hugged and just talked and talked and talked. It was so amazing to see them, and being in Paris on top of all that was kind of unreal.
The three of us went to dinner that night at this adorable hole-in-the-wall restaurant that Kelsey knows from having lived here. It's one of the few surviving family run restaurants in all of Paris, cozy with homemade food and waiters who actually wanted to be there! A woman played Spanish guitar and sang in this beautiful, guttural voice serenaded us all night. The girls at the table kept making fun of me because I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I think by the end of the night though we all had crushes on her. She wasn't beautiful - she was missing some teeth, actually - but she sang with such emotion and passion it was hard not to get wrapped up in it.
And speaking of crushes - our waiter was AMAZING. Not only did he give us free wine and serve us the most delicious food, but he called us "darlings" and "beautifuls". My personal favorite though, was when he asked what the exact color of my coat was. "Lavender", I said. "Oh! Lavahnder! You are mah leeeteel lavander lay-deee!" I think that's probably the greatest term of endearment of all time? From now on, please call me Little Lavender Lady, thank you.
Then came dessert... Now, I don't want to get graphic, and it's probably only funny to the people who were there that night... but the cobbler, oh, man. We were eating with two friends of Kelsey's from Florence, and one of the girls (I wont mention her name to protect the innocent) had gotten apple and berry cobbler. I wont write out her whole quote (because it was so funny at the time I wrote it on my napkin and I do in fact have it), but it started like this, "Oh my God, I don't think I've ever been turned on by something that's not a person before!" Classic.
After dinner, Alea, Kelsey and I went back to the apartment to meet Suzanne (she's also studying in London), who was the last to arrive. She was waiting in the foyer and the look on her face when we came in was priceless. We all got kind of choked up, hugging and crying and kissing each other because we were finally here! We'd been planning this trip for so long it was amazing that it had all worked out. And basically, the rest of the night was just us. You can't understand unless a) you're a girl and b) you've had incredibly close girlfriends - but it was just such a comforting feeling to be together and cuddling on the couch and catching each other up on the past few months of our lives.
A brief word on my friends: I'm not really a fan of "girls". Yeah, I study gender and I love being a woman, but I've had too many experiences of snooty girls who are confusing and gossipy and bitchy. I've had a few close girlfriends in my life (who are still my best friends today), but I've never had a group of them before. This semester we all got tested in our personal lives and we were all there to pick each other up and be there for each other. You know who your real friends are when you're a mess on the floor and can talk about the same things over and over again and are absolutely no fun to be around but they still come over to laugh with you. So nowyou can understand my excitement at seeing them together again...
Okay, on with the story: we spooned. Yup, it was a chain of spooning in a queen size bed and we all slept like babies. It was pretty great ;-) Refreshed the next morning we walked around Paris in the unbelievable weather. We started off at the Rodin Museum where I got to see my favorite statue of all time (and they let me stand there for 15 minutes while I stared like a kid in a candy store). And then we were off to the Eiffel Tower! This will be the third time in three months I've seen it and it still just gets me every time. We took lots of funny pictures in front of the tower (which I can put up once Suzanne gives me her photos) then went to a cozy little French cafe where we talked some more and took more funny photos. We stopped by a market to buy lychee nuts. We walked across the Seine. We took more funny photos, walked past the Arc de Triumph, went into Louis Vuitton to laugh at prices we will never be able to afford. And we bought macaroons, which were the most amazing things (next to the cobbler, of course) ever (I realize now that's less impressive to say because I've been saying that a lot, but this time it's true!) I mean, come on, I had a rose flavored macaroon in a fancy French restaurant. Kelsey showed us all her favorite haunts (the macaroon place being her all time favorite) from when she was here over the summer, and Alea, who's been here now for two months, showed us hers. Paris is amazing, but to be perfectly honest it really took a backseat to the weekend itself. We ended the day cooking dinner and snuggling (again) on the couch and watching a movie, but not really paying attention.
Sadly, Kelsey left early the next morning and Suzanne and I had to catch our flight back to London in the evening. We walked around some more went into Notre Dame, walked past the Louvre, and ate delicious crepes from a stand on the street. We worried about getting back to the airport though, because the strike was still in full swing. Our endevour to the airport was really awful. At the time it wasn't, but I promised I would tell this story with some form of lightheartedness to take some of the sting away...
Okay. Suzanne and I decided to take a working metro line as far north as we could, to the station Gare de Nord then take a taxi from there so it would be less expensive. But we didn't realize that not only would everyone be having the same idea but people would be arriving by train and needing transportation to other places in Paris as well! We were running late and there was nothing we could do so we waited in a disgustingly long line in the cold for an hour to get a cab. Let me tell you, French cab drivers are insane, it's like they don't want the business! We tried waving them down and knocking on windows, and even when we got in line one only came along about every three minutes. You'd think they'd be taking advantage of the strike, but noooo! They just sat there eating their sandwiches, driving aimlessly and being oh-so-French. And as we waited Alea went to every person in line (as our flight was leaving in an hour and a half), asking in French where they were going (to see if we could share a car, and maybe jump the line?!). We couldn't find anyone for awhile, but at the last second a hugely tall German bloke asked if he could tag along as his plane was taking off in an hour. So he got in alongside Suzanne with his huge legs pressed awkwardly up against the passenger seat, sitting very quietly and politely. He was lovely, and I think even more lovely because he was so nervous about catching his flight he practically paid for the whole cab ride. Yeah for Germans!
So that's that. We were in such a rush I didn't get my tearful goodbye with Alea, but it's probably for the best because the weekend was so wonderful it had me thinking twice about staying in London. Luckily, Suzanne is right around the corner and her roommate from Davidson (and my nose piercing partner), Marina, is coming to visit tomorrow for Thanksgiving. We'll be doing it on Saturday because we actually have classes and work to go to, imagine that, but we'll be doing it right - lots of people and food and fun!
So Happy Thanksgiving! I am insanely jealous...

A night of someone who lives here

I had forgotten I was here.
I came up the steps and walked out of Westminster tube station on the way to see a friend and was greeted with a spectacular view of Big Ben and Parliament lit up in all their glory. I've seen these two quintessential London landmarks many times now. I can see the tips of Parliament from where I work, the London Eye from the top floor of my building. I have been a tourist here more than once. This evening, as I have before, I walked past these monuments trying not to look up so as not to be mistaken for a tourist. And as I walked towards my friend's office I turned my back on Parliament (this can be a deep metaphor or not - I really did turn by back because that's where my friend works).
I stopped by the ATM, picked up my friend and her coworkers, and went out to a pub nearby. Basically, it was an average, low key Friday night. Not the kind of night a tourist has, but the night of someone who lives here: getting out of work, winding down with a pint in a crowded pub filled with Londoners in suits with their ties loosened and their briefcases forgotten. But as I walked back home later on and once again face Big Ben I allowed myself a brief glance up. It's a pretty amazing site - glowing gold against the black sky, framing the rushing Thames, and the London Eye moving every so slowly in the background.
I ended up standing there for a while; head up like your stereotypical tourist and right up close to this postcard view with all of London continuing to go on around me. And that's where it hit me that I'm here! Since I was a kid I imagined living an exotic life in foreign cities and those fantasies always included me strolling past the Eiffel Tower, the Colosseum, Big Ben. And there I was doing exactly that! But I'm not a tourist here (thank God). I get on the packed tube every morning to go to work or school. I travel to places like Oslo and Paris on the weekends. I do stroll past Big Ben on my way home after drinks (and I have those drinks with real live British people!). I'm not saying I don't stop to smell the roses but the fascination does eventually wear off. London has changed from a strange city across the Atlantic to my city across the Atlantic. My home, actually.
I had forgotten I was in London. I'm not sure if that makes any sense, but red phone booths and double-decker buses are not tourist attractions for me anymore.They are where I can call the States or how I get home. I don't look down at the pavement anymore to check which way to look when crossing the streets (or think those cars are driving themselves when I don't see anyone in the "drivers" seat). I say things like "rubbish" and "brilliant" (completely unconsciously because I know my family will make fun of me when I go back to the US).
I am in love with London. It is fully and completely my home, more than any place has ever been. But sometimes it's nice to remember my childhood fantasies, to crane my neck like an idiot tourist so I can enjoy this other side of London in order to remember how far I've come.

Scotland: Part II

The weather for our third day in Scotland was even worse than the day before. The weather report warned us of gale winds which blew the rain sideways into our faces and under our tightly bundled scarves. I felt bad for the tortured trees which were practically horizontal to the ground. Fergus didn't think this would affect our plans at all, but saw the horror on our faces when he told us we were going to be walking around anyway. Because he's amazing at his job, he took on the responsibility of waking us up by blasting an annoyingly cheery song as soon as we stepped on the bus, at what I think is a disturbingly early time. He even flickered the lights and used the brakes to bounce the bus around so it was like our own mini club. It was pretty effective though because we did file off the bus when he told us he was going to tell us a story... outside on a bridge, over a raging river.
And we listened to his story! He's an amazing storyteller and we stood outside with our hands in our pockets while he told us about two warring clans who tried to make peace by arranging a marriage between them. But on the day of the wedding the beautiful bride falls off her horse, smashing her face on a rock (at this point Fergus acted out the scene busting out a plastic eyeball for added effect). She continues on with the wedding though, but when she reaches her husband to be he takes on look at her mutilated face and thinks the other clan is trying to trick him. So in a fit of rage he flings the woman into the river, supposedly never to be seen again. However, she emerges from the water, her face perfect again (and eyeball back in place). As Fergus concludes his tale this is when he tells us that the river has magical healing powers and if we put our faces in it we wont age for 10 years. We laugh, knowing he's kidding as the rain falls even harder. But no, he says, "I'm not opening the bus until every one of you sticks your face in the river for at least 10 seconds." And to our horror, he pulls of his cap, walks down to the muddy and treacherous bank of the river and proceeds to get on all fours, putting his face right into the rushing water! All the while, we're gasping in amazement while simultaneously trying to figure out a way of of doing it ourselves.In the end he didn't force us but I felt like doing something stupid that I would never normally do, so I did in fact put my face in the freezing water for 10 whole (long, everlasting, never-ending) seconds while trying not to slip on the rocks.
While a funny story and a good memory, my scarf got soaking wet and we all smelled like wet dogs for the rest of the afternoon. And Fergus continued to spice up our trip, taking us to a little town with a charity shop so we could buy costumes for a spontaneous Halloween party. The shop was in a very small, wee, Scottish town where the villages spoke both English and Galick, which was so much fun to listen to. The shop was wee too and we had a few choices ranging from long old lady skirts to ugly old lady hats. But the costumes that people came up with were incredible. I went with a too long soccer shirt which was pretty uncreative, but at the party that night a friend of mine used an ugly old lady hat to the be the Queen. Another bought some black shirts which she cut up to be a black cat. There was also a girl dressed as a lamp, an apple tree (or Eden, depending how you looked at it), a tacky tourist, a child, and lots of guys who bought skirts and came up with some pretty cool variations on the traditional Scottish costume. Typical Fergus though was the most creative of all, wearing an ugly old lady dress and wig along with some sort of knight's mask and called himself the Iron Maiden (get it? hahaha, funny)!
The hostel that we stayed in that night was on the banks of Loch Ness. Before we settled in Fergus turns the bus toward the lake saying, "There's a dance that my father taught me that was taught to him by my grandfather, and so on. I'm going to teach you this ancient traditional dance that's been passed on for generations. It will drive Nessie right out of the water." So we pulled up to the lake thinking we were going to learn something really old school, when Fergus emerges from the bus with a goofy green felt Loch Ness Monster hat. He proceeds to make us stand in line and make lassoing motions while saying "Monster. Monster. Monster. Come to me, come to me, come to me." We couldn't stop laughing and later that night at our Halloween party we taught all the other kids who weren't blessed with Fergus as their tour guide our "ancient dance" - but they didn't seem to get it and weren't too keen to learn anyways and basically walked away shaking their heads. But that's okay, they'll be jealous when Nessie comes out of the water just for us...

Nessie did not emerge for us. We stared at the water until all we could see were tiny ripples and white spots. However, Fergus told us some really interesting stories about what people have claimed to see in the mysterious waters of Loch Ness. Turns out there probably are sea creatures in the lake. It's incredibly deep and over 20 miles long. The legends most likely started over sighs of large animals seen nowhere else coming up from the depths. At risk of sounding all academic for a second, I think it's fascinating that our society knows more about outer space than what's underwater on our own planet.
The lake was beautiful on top of having so much history and speculation behind it, and looking back on my photos the scenery doesn't even look real. I was so impressed with my photos, thinking I was such a great photographer because they came out so good... but everyone's look that beautiful because Scotland was that amazing and no one could really ever go wrong.

Scotland: Part I

--- 26 October 2007 ---
Scotland so far has been absolutely wonderful. We spent the first day in Edinburgh which was lovely. I branched out and went with three girls who I had never spent a huge amount of time with before and they all ended up being really nice and a lot of fun. We went to the Whiskey Tour building for a delicious and surprisingly cheap lunch and then booed a tour. While we waited we walked up to Edinburgh Castle and it felt so familiar. I'd been before but it was so long ago I was surprised by my deja vu. Sadly, there were cranes everywhere and we didn't have the time or the money to go inside. But it is a beautiful and impressive castle, perched right up to the edge of a craggy cliff, looking over the rest of the city. Looking was all we had time for before our tour but that was okay because the tour was so much fun! Really interesting, plus, we got some free whiskey and a special glass that felt really smart.
After a little shopping in the "gift" shop I took off on my own for a little Marian Time. It's been nice having company but I've really come to enjoy the pleasure of my own company. Plus, it's hard to coordinate what everyone wants to do. So I really just walked around for an hour - god lost as usual but also sat outside a nice cathedral while listening to a guy on the streets play the bagpipes. I LOVE the bagpipes, they remind me of my dad. I normally don't give money to street performers mostly because I'm just as broke, but his playing made me feel like I was really in Scotland so I gave him as much as I could. He was also beautiful in his full Scottish costume, something about a man in a skirt just emphasizes the masculinity - makes them look so strong and regal. So that helped ;-)
The rest of the evening was nice and relaxing. The whole group had dinner together and then I just went back to the hostel to read and write a little and got to bed earlier than I have in months.
The next day was beyond incredible as we left the capital for the highlands. The day was raging and gray, and while that might be depressing in the city, on the miles of Scottish moors it was wild and romantic. So far, our tour guide Fergus has been hilarious. We were on and off the buss all day but I never fell asleep because he had so many interesting stories. And when he wasn't talking he was playing us Scottish music; from current pop stars to traditional bagpipes and flute which made the expanse of mountains and lochs that much more special. The best though was when he took us to the castle where Monty Python on the Holy Grail was filmed after playing us a clip from that specific scene. He also took us to the Braveheart site while playing us a Euro pop version of the theme song. This guy is just so clever! Everything a tour guide should be.
We saw so many gorgeous things today and learned so much about Scottish history - more than I could ever learn in a classroom. We saw a mountain called The Giant's Fist (because that's exactly what it looked like) and a loch that's shaped exactly like Scotland. We stopped a lot to look at the scenery - leaves turning and orange moors and "weeping mountains" and raging waterfalls. It was all beautiful even in the cold and miserable downpour, but at around 4:30 a small patch of blue sky lit up the mountains that had just before been haunted with mist. And then, right before we reached our final destination, we stopped the bus to watch the brilliant sun set over the Isle of Skye. The thing that really got me though, was the fleeting but deafening silence of 20 college students on holiday standing perfectly still, watching the most perfect thing we had ever seen.

Ode to London: You Are So Cheap And Warm!

The best part about living in the UK is the travel opportunities. Because my class and work schedule is busier than most I haven’t really taken full advantage of those opportunities. Last weekend however I had a 3 day weekend due to midterms and RyanAir having a special – London to Oslo. I had never considered Norway as a travel destination for me, but I’ve started to really enjoy those out of the way places more and more. Plus it was super cheap.

So at 2:00 am Saturday morning, my friend (and first real travel companion) Lauren and I set off to Oslo. 12:30 that afternoon we reached our hostel. It took and hour and a half to get to London Stanstead and another two hours to get from the “Oslo” airport to the city itself.

However, as soon as we got off the lane, the ATM decided to eat my debit card. Then, my emergency credit card was declined, my cell phone ran out of money, and I couldn’t refill it because I had no money plus they charge you to call customer “service”. And then of course Bank of America’s “free” phone number for international calls I in fact (gasp!)… not free. I freaked out for a second, but Lauren came to my rescue! Being independent and traveling alone is absolutely fabulous but you can’t underestimate the lovely convenience of a travel buddy. Lauren helped me out with all the money issues and gave me someone to bitch to instead of stewing on my own.

The problem did get sorted out and after finding our hostel (after getting lost) we explored Oslo. It’s a lot bigger than I expected and also less stereotypically Nordic. I guess I’m not sure what I was expecting, so there was no way I could be disappointed. It was a lovely city though. And everyone was so friendly and good natured and absolutely gorgeous. Even the children and stooped over old men were hot.

But it was cold (duh) and the most expensive city I have ever been to. The exchange rate is great but we paid $6 for water and the newsstand in the airport wanted $20 for a magazine! And I thought London was expensive…

That first day though, Lauren and I were so tired that we really just walked around and explored. We were dead by about 8:00 so we went back to the hostel to plan the next day. As we were sitting out in the hallway going over our guidebooks, an English girl called Sian came by and we ended up talking. Then she was joined by her travel companion, Sam, and just ended up bonding for who knows how long. It was one of those great times when you automatically click with someone and just never stop talking. I assumed that they would be two people I could write about in my journal and never see again, but have fond memories of. Turns out, they both work across the street from me in London! So we ended up going out with them that night to watch the Rugby world cup at a nearby pub. It was filled with British people, which was funny as we were in the middle of Norway. I know nothing about rugby but it was so much fun to cheer on my “home team”, and when they lost (miserably) I was sad. The plan was to go to bed early but the four of us ended up walking the streets of Oslo late at night, buying beers and kebabs, and retiring to the hallway with milk and Oreos back at the hostel. I loved every bit of it, and just further proves my point that you never have any idea what will happen and who you’ll run in to. The best nights are those that are unplanned and mostly likely you’ll remember than forever.

The next morning we got up to go to a ski jump we had read about. It’s a big tourist attraction because you can climb to the top and get a sprawling view of the surrounding countryside all the way to the city and beyond. It was a little out of the way but the train ride was incredible. Lots of pines and mountains and fjords (lakes, but I like that word, it sounds Norwegian). Basically a breathtaking day. The climb was intense and steep, but the view just let us look out for miles and miles. And the rest of our trip was just really laid back. We saw some museums – the ski museum, the Viking museum and my favorite, Edvard Much. We took the wrong tram into the middle of nowhere and had to wait outside in the cold (and yes! The rain!) in the suburbs. So we listened to music and Dane Cook and laughed our heads off while strange Norwegian people shared glances with each other over the stupid Americans. We went to the largest open air museum where we walked among old abandoned houses and churches from hundred of years ago. It was really scary as it was a Monday and no one was around, and we were convinced that ghost children were following us. Especially when in the middle of this old ghost town there was an elementary school or something with a creaky old playground. Since we act like ten year olds most of the time anyway, it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that we spent about and hour playing on the swings and see saw with our new “ghost children friends”. Again, another plus on the side of traveling with people.

The worst part though, was the regret (I know, I shouldn’t have any). The last day we realized that we were just hours from the Northern Lights, and if we had planned in advance we could have taken a train to the far north of Norway to see them. Of course, you can’t see them every day, and it’s still early in the year, but the Northern Lights! I feel like that’s part of the list of things we need to do before we die. So now I’m thinking about taking a separate trip maybe in January when I come back to Finland or something just to see them. But I can’t say I regret this trip at all. It was low-key, and Oslo is a weirdly quiet city, but I never thought in a million years I could just hop on a plane for a weekend in Norway. This whole experience just keeps getting more and more amazing and unpredictable and just makes me sit down and think every day how grateful I am to be here!

Leeds Castle

I haven't been doing a lot of traveling around England and going to Leeds Castle was mentioned in a book of day trips, listed as the "loveliest castle in the world". I haven't seen may castles, but this one was indeed lovely. It looked like it was from the pages of a storybook. It's the building version of the stick figure - even if I hadn't been I could have imagines it perfectly. Towers and turrets and a moat and a falconry! (Plus a dog collar museum but I have no idea why that was there.) Even the walk to the castle was lovely. It was a long one - about 15 minutes but we walked through the woods and a field and over a bridge with a lovely lake underneath that was overrun with ducks.
We leisurely walked through the castle which was just as beautiful and interesting on the inside. Lots of fancy rooms and old paintings, but this castle has been used much more recently than some other museum-like buildings. One of the bathrooms was something you would normally see in a big fancy house today.
The furnishings were much more modern than I would have expected, but I really enjoyed it because so much of what we know about royalty is through history, so it was new and interesting to see how they still must live today.
The best part of the visit though was wandering the grounds. It was a rare day of sunshine and warmth, and the leaves had just started to turn. It was so relaxing to be out of the city and we were there for just long enough so we weren't bored.
We took our food to sit and picnic on the huge expanse of bright green lawn, in another storybook cliche. I bought a bottle of wine that had been made in the castle's vineyards and we were all settling in on our jackets when I realized none of us had a corkscrew. We all had been looking forward to sharing a bottle of wine in the vineyards where it was made, so I figured we could just push the cork down into the bottle. But the only thing to do this with was my pen. Not sure why I thought this was smart because my incredible brute strength did in fact get the cork down, taking my pen with it! Being the classy college students that we are, just just shrugged, laughed it off, and drank it anyway - pen and cork bobbling as we passed it around (without cups of course). That's when the mother of all geese waddled over, most likely after our food (not that we had anything special - the wine was $7), but I swear I have never seen anything like it. It was easily bigger than us sitting down, huge and black and mean. We tried shooing it away but it kept slowly coming towards us like something out of a really bad horror film. We started getting a little nervous because those things bit! But even when the tall male in our group stood up, nothing deterred this goose from its mission. It even reared (do geese rear?) up and hissed and that's when we all fled the scene.
Embarrassed by being driven off by what was probably a lovely swan roaming the lovely grounds, we skulked off to the road, this being my third meal off the curb (not including the charity Harri Krishna food I get on school days, but that's another story). But being a beautiful day, even the devil swan couldn't ruin our picnic - or me spilling both win and ketchup on myself, or all of us having our teeth hit by the pen in the bottle (which really hurt by the way), or seeing another picnicker drive the goose off by simply clapping in its face.
So though we probably all poisoned ourselves with the corked and inky wine, it was a pretty amazing day.

In Flanders Fields

IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow

Between the crosses row on row,

That mark our place;

and in the sky The larks,

still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

-

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

-
Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

~Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)

I just got back today from a class trip to Ieper, Belgium; a town that was literally reduced to dust and rubble during the first world war. All of our classes are about British and London history, so the reason we went all the way to Ieper was because a huge number of British soldiers were killed there. Maybe it was the 7 hour journey, or the blistering cold, but I was strangely emotional during all our memorial, museum, and cemetery visits. This wasn't my war, my generation, or even my country! But the first memorial we saw - the Menin Gate - was right in front of our hostel and every night since the end of the WWI there is a memorial service at 8pm, wherethre is a bugle call (sometimes accompanied by a speech) and a moment of silence. Every single night, for almost 100 years. On the memorial are 55,000 names of soldiers who died between 1914 and 1918. But these were just the soldiers with no known grave. The names were so tiny, and covered every surface, it was impossible to take it in all at once. And then of course a lone bagpiper played Amazing Grace, which just gets me every time. So... I was a blubbering mess, but I was really moved by the fact that this small town in the middle of nowhere Belgium has hundreds (last night there were thousands) of people stand in silence in memoriam of British soldiers, not even their own countrymen! It was really was amazing, and I've never seen or heard anything like it.

As well as looking at the memorial, we went to the In Flanders Field Museum, which was an interactive-type exhibition where we each got to "be" someone involved in WWI, and kind of look at the stories through their eyes. I was Remi van Kemmel, an 18-year-old Belgian soldier who, oddly, survived and lived until 1978. He called himself "a lucky devil". Now that we're in the 21st century 1914 sounds so far away, like it's not even a part of our world anymore. But Remi lived until less than 10 years before I was born.

I've spent two days learning and breathing World War I. I've seen museums, houses, cemeteries, old trenches, and memorials. The last thing I want to do is think about the war, but now it's the only thing I can think about. Especially because we stopped by a German cemetery where we saw a photo of Hitler in the same spot we were, promoting his ideals right before the start of World War II. The last cemetery we went to though before leaving this afternoon was the Tyne Cot Cemetery, the largest of its kind in the world. 11,908 graves are registered 70% of which are unknown. Then, another 35,000 names are inscribed on the walls surrounding the cemetery - that's in addition to the 50,000 I saw earlier in the trip. The numbers are so huge I still find it difficult to digest, but looking at the sheer number of graves stretching before us made the horrors click. It's been a long time since we've had a war like that so now I'm just waiting with bated breath for all of us to get blown to bits.
HOWEVER - it was also the most beautiful cemetery I've ever been to. If I were ever to fight for anything I would want to be remembered the way these soldiers are. Poppies are everywhere, and even the graves that house an unidentified soldier, they are remembered as a soldier of the Great War, and they are known unto God. Letters and crosses are stuck in odd graves, notes from school classes thanking the soldiers, and long letters addressed to the wall of unknowns. Lovely ways to acknowledge a person no one will ever know. Basically, this afternoon was somewhat depressing, but fascinating and beautiful all at the same time. I slept the whole bus/ferry/bus trip home - from both physical and emotional exhaustion.

Another however - Belgium rocks. As a depart from my depressing rant on WWI, beer and waffles and chocolate and fries? As amazing as they say. Honestly. I'm not really a beer drinker but there's this pub our guide took us to his favorite pub (and treated the whole group of 50 to a round!). There was a catalogue of all the beers available - from cheery, to 12% alcohol, to barley, to those brewed by monks. While WWI still hangs over the whole of this town, beer is another huge part of the culture, and boy do they celebrate it! And, since I always talk about food, Belgium is no exception, especially because I had this amazing waffle cooked in front of me, handed to me in a napkin, and didn't even cost 2 euros! It was the best waffle I've ever had in my life. And, I learned French Fries are actually from Belgium, so of course I had to have those too! Then of course I spent about $15 on chocolate. Also pretty spectacular :-) And yes, I did buy an extra bar that I wont touch and send home to my family. Maybe.

I also did do my bit of learning some part of language. I thought they spoke French everywhere in Belgium but I learned that there is a French area and a Flemish area and Ieper is the latter. Flemish/Dutch sounds a lot like German, so I was good and learned, "Do you speak English?" in Dutch. My accent is atrocious but I was proud of myself for trying while other tourists walked up the locals and spoke in English or made huge hand motions like the Belgian people were idiots. Our group was pretty awesome and our teachers taught us (roughly) to say hello, goodbye, thank you, cheers (!), etc... I hope I will remember all of this later on because my vocabulary of European languages is growing and I love it!

While we were only in Belgium for around 24 hours it was a wonderful trip and I don't think I would have seen the country otherwise. I also would have never seen a town like Ieper. Tourists (myself included) tend to migrate towards the cities, the attractions, the monuments. But being forced out of my comfort zone, and put in a place I knew nothing about was such a wonderful experience. This was the first time I've travelled with other people on this trip, and while I now know I truly love being by myself, going to Ieper with a group, and guides, and a curiosity made it a trip I will most likely never forget.

So... Twee bier, alstublieft. And Dag.
(two beers please) (goodbye) hehe.
:-D

Kings Cross

Pure and utter joy. Has made my trip to London complete. Need I say more?

Fish and Chips. On the side of the road. In the middle of nowhere.

I think to be a "city person" you need to want one of two things: either to blend into the crowd, or to be part of something bigger. I'm definitely the latter, and while I've been to my fair share of cities - New York, Rome, Paris, Chicago - I have never experienced anything like London. And I've been here three times before! It's much, much different to live here. I hate to say this to New York, because I do love it there, but London is more diverse, more visually confusing, and more unique. The States will always be my home, but the best thing about London is its unparalleled diversity. I know I've said that there is no such thing as a true Londoner, but honestly, you hear so many languages, smell so many foods, see so many skin colors it should be overwhelming, but it's oddly comforting. On my walk to work through Piccadilly Circus on Friday I heard three different languages that weren't English in the two blocks it took me to get there. Every group of people I passed were tourists, immigrants, business men from God knows where, students... But today on the tube I saw a man wilding gesturing, flailing his arms around. I figured he was another obligatory City Crazy so I moved away, but when I looked closer at his reflection in the window I realized it was sign language. Yet another form of communication to add to the list I've "heard" in the past week. Maybe Geneva belongs to the world, but I think London is the world.

Example: I went to this crazy, colorful, ridiculous parade at the mayor's Thames Festival a little over a week ago. There was a lantern procession with dancing of every kind: African, Chinese, Bolivian, and so many different kinds of music they became this one big and wild blend of pure sound. The photo above left is a group of little kids from some organization or another holding paper flowers that they had lit up with Christmas lights. They ran by fast, dancing and waving their arms, creating what was like a fireworks display on the ground. The photo to the right is... I have no idea. There were these weird HUGE puppets (or something like a puppet, I'm sure it has a name but I would just embarrass myself if I pretended to know what it is). They must have been made out of something really light because people would wear them on their backs and they had these poles in their arms attached to the arms of the puppet, which they would wave around and either scare the little kids or thrill them. I'm not sure which emotion I felt to be perfectly honest. But it was a sight to see and lasted for hours. If you're ever in London in September I highly recommend going to this festival. I spent two days down at the Thames that weekend and couldn't have possibly seen a third of what was there.

I've been so engrossed in London that after three weeks here I have yet to travel anywhere else around England. Besides learning about the country in my various classes, I don't think I've seen anything truly British. Some of the customs here reinforce the stereotypes - but only the good ones. For example, every day at work someone in the office goes around and asks if anyone would like a cup of tea. With just a spot of milk. During my lunch break, my boss asks if I'd like to "pop out for a bite", and the word "cheers" is thrown around with wild abandon. When I asked a coworker what it actually meant, she couldn't give me an answer. "You know... just, cheers!" I know there are a million words in the States that have "meanings" like that, but since I didn't actually know what cheers meant I thought it was very funny. Eventually I figured out its very loose definition is "thanks", which I like. What other country would have a hugely popular word be one of politeness?

Another truly English adventure I've had has involved fish and chips. London is very very expensive (don't even ask about my cell phone bill), so my friends and I had yet to try English fish and chips because all the pubs serve them for at least 8 pounds. That's about 16 US dollars. So one night we all pulled a Harold and Kumar and went out for a real meal of fish and chips, newspaper and all. Unfortunately it's no longer legal to serve it in newspaper as it's a health violation, but after about an hour we ended up riding the tube, getting off at Notting Hill Gate. My friend Rachel had seen, once upon a time, a fish and chips stand somewhere in the Notting Hill vicinity... I think. So we walked around for a while, and finally saw a beautiful, greasy, hole-in-the-wall fish and chips stand! The floors were a mess and it was completely empty except for the sketchy men who sit by themselves, but you could smell the chips down the street. And as an added bonus, they were 4 pounds for a huge amount of food :-) So the five of us all ordered our own serving, and even though there was no newspaper, we did get yellow half broken Styrofoam boxes which I guess in this day and age is kind of the same thing. With our food in hand we really had nowhere to go except back home but we really wanted that poor college student experience. So we headed next door to the grocery store, bought a six pack of beer for an absurdly low price, and parked ourselves on a concrete wall by the curb in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere to eat our hard-earned meal.

Besides classes, work, and fish and chip hunting (we did this one more time that week) I've also been doing some touristy things like St. Paul's Cathedral, the Gherkin and the Tower of London... I could list all the things I've done to give you a general update on my life here, but that would be boring and it's not the touristy things that have been defining my life at all. I finally feel like I live here. AND Davidson has officially given me permission to stay for the year! So I have so much more time to enjoy everything this amazing city (and country) has to offer....
... after, you know, I've found my way there ;-)

A couple fun experiences

I got my internship!!!

I interviewed yesterday at the Royal Academy of Arts and the head of marketing offered me an internship in the press department. It seems like I'll have a lot of responsibilities and it wont just be busy work. I'll be creating headlines, writing press statements, interviewing people, and yes, probably stuffing envelopes. But I'm really excited and today I went in after class to attend a press day at the academy just to see how it worked. It didn't seem that confusing and everyone seems really nice. I sat with two women most the time and we talked a lot and I think I'm really going to like it there. I'm already happy that I'm meeting actual Londoners and putting myself deeper into British society.

I also had my first class today which was also a success! The class was 300 Years of British Women's History and even though it was a two and a half hour class (it only meets once a week) I enjoyed every minute. The classes here don't seem too hard and it will be a relief to sit back and enjoy my classes rather than worry about all the work like at Davidson. I'm actually excited to start writing my history research paper. We have so many resources at our fingertips and I can tell I'll enjoy learning here a lot more than I have anywhere else. For my history class we really only have one writing assignment, which counts for a lot. But we can pick any aspect of British women in the past 300 years and study it. We have class trips to the Women's Library, the National Portrait Gallery, and to Ieper, Belgium where we'll study WWI. I have a lot of ideas about things to write about but I'm having a hard time choosing. I think what I'll do is head down to the Victoria and Albert Museum and look at all the women's clothing they have there because I'm considering writing about the evolution of women's fashion. Totally girly, I know, but I think it will be really interesting. And speaking of girly, there are two guys in the class which surprised me, but they seem to be taking it really seriously which is refreshing.

The other fun thing that's happened is yesterday I got a bunch of girls to walk with me to Big Ben and the Parliament building, which is about 45 minutes away. We also ended up accidentally seeing Westminster Abbey, St. James Park, and Buckingham Palace, which we saw by night and I highly recommend it! I've been walking around so much and seeing things because I haven't really had money for transportation and museums and such, so this is pretty comfortable for me now and I'm happy I got some other people to enjoy it too. By the time we got back we were exhausted but I felt like I got a lot done that day and now I'm just looking forward to tomorrow!

Arrival in London (orientation and otherwise)

'ello govna!

I've finally gotten to London! And I am officially and completely in love with this city. I already feel at home here. Our orientation period consisted of tons of paperwork and lectures, a bus tour, an intro to the London underground, a ferry ride to Greenwich, a theater (or theatre) performance at the Globe, and a market crawl at 8am this morning. Granted, I have seen a lot of London in the past couple days, but after the market crawl today it was sooo nice to get my room together - unpacking, buying groceries, etc. Despite being busy and very tired I wake up every morning in awe that I'm actually living in London!

I can already tell that I'm going to have an amazing time here. I've met some really wonderful people from all over the country. Funnily enough though, my roommate Anjali is from the town where I was born, and three students here I've never met before all known someone I went to high school with! There is so much to see in this world - I've been learning that more and more every day - but sometimes the it really does seem so small.

Everything we've done over the past five days has been a highlight, but my favorites have been seeing Shakespeare's Love's Labor's Lost at the Globe and the market crawl this morning. I'm not a huge Shakespeare fan, especially when I don't know the story line because I honestly can't follow the plot, but I really enjoyed last night's performance! Yeah, I didn't have any idea what was going on, but the actors were beyond incredible and even without a plot the show was one of the funniest I have ever seen :-D Also, since we are all poor students we paid 5 quid (ha! I'm getting the lingo down...) for a standing spot right below the stage. While we were tired from walking around Greenwich earlier that day and it was late and cold and damp it was the experience that was worth it. The original Globe burned down, but the new building is in the same place and is an exact replica so it was really like it would have been in Shakespeare's time. I felt like a peasant! And one thing I have always loved about London is it's history and watching the show from this angle was like stepping backwards in time...

As for the market, I wasn't expecting to like it as much as I did because we had been running around since Wednesday morning and the market crawl was at eight o'clock this morning and all I wanted to do was sleep. But I begrudgingly got up and took the long and complicated bus ride to the Columbia Flower Market. As soon as I saw all the shops like little English tea shops and garden sheds I wanted to buy a little country cottage and grow herbs... Seriously though, I bought three pots of basil, lavender, and rosemary! I don't know, something about the atmosphere and English men shouting, "Three for a fiver!" got me in the mood! I'm sneaky though, the neighborhood I'm in is super expensive so I'm really saving money by growing my own basil! You know - because I use so much basil and rosemary in my college student life. Whatever, I feel English now. So we walked through the Columbia Market, then over to Brick Lane which is the Bangladesh community in London that has a great street market not unlike a huge garage sale on the weekends. Our last stop was Spitalfields, the biggest of the three even with the ongoing construction. The stands had lots of homemade jewelery, clothes, bread, and soaps. I had to restrain myself but I did make a great find! When I was little I had a pair of really pretty red coral earrings shaped like roses that I adored. If I remember correctly I bought them at a street market in Italy. When I eventually lost them I was devastated. Until today when I found them at this stall run by two old men! The markets are relatively cheap so I swept up the last pair as fast as I could. Honestly though, the thing I love about markets (and the thing that also frustrates me) is that everything is constantly bustling and changing and you never know what you're going to find.

I'm starting to feel more like a Londoner though. I have an Oyster pass, which is this weekly travel card that all the commuters carry that gives you unlimited travel in certain zones. Every time I go through the till to get to the subway - sorry, tube - I feel so cool and urban! I can now wander the streets of my new neighborhood, Chelsea, without getting lost, and slowly but surely I am training myself to look right then left before crossing the street in order to avoid getting hit by a big red bus.

As for my neighborhood, it is really "posh" according to the locals. A lot of famous people have lived and do currently live here. Hugh Grant actually lives a couple doors down from my residence hall! Johnny Depp is filming here (yeah I know, I've got my binoculars and lasso at the ready), and Prince Harry was at the bar down the road! I promise I'll invite you to the royal wedding... And for those girls my age, 7 Pembrook Lane from the Parent Trap (the mother's house) is on my way to the tube! I'm really lucky to be living in such a beautiful and safe neighborhood. Yet another reason to love the home I'm building here.

Tomorrow I interview for an internship my program set up for me at the Royal Academy of Arts. If I get it I'll be working two full days a week on top of my classes, but the RA is really prestigious and the internship sounds like a lot of fun and great way to really integrate myself into British society, so I really hope I get it. Then on Tuesday I start classes, all based on British society - British Women Writers, British Women's History, British Youth Culture, and British Architecture. I swear, when I'm done here I'll probably know more about this country than the locals...

Cheers!

Last but not least

Bonjour!
(Yes, again. I would say bon soir but I've learned not to say that before 3pm)

I swear I have no idea where the time went, but today is my last day before I leave for London! I'm back in France, having spent the last three weeks kind of travelling in a very floppy circle. This past Saturday I left Geneva to meet my good friend Alea in the south of France. We travelled by car along the French Riviera and saw the glass blowing town of Birot and climbed many (many) stairs to the top of an old medieval village who's view was breathtaking. Picture a huge expanse of Mediterranean, incredibly old fountains in the midst of gorgeous French gardens, stones so old they were shiny from all the years of walking, and masses of lavender. We spent our days exploring the smaller towns that all looked just like postcards. Markets with fresh food, spices, and handmade soaps made them beautiful and colorful and made our trips so cheery!

However, even when travelling with other people, the day still really revolved around food. I think two of my favorite experiences with Alea and her mother were two meals. The first was on our way back from Birot. We walked by some cafes but most weren't serving before 7:30 and all the others basically served the same thing for the same high prices. I think the French have caught on to America's fascination with cute cafes (and the strange idea of sitting down and actually... relaxing) and have jacked up their prices. So this meant the three of us had been out all day and couldn't find a place to eat and we were getting pretty cranky. But as we trudged listlessly to the car we noticed an outdoor Italian market in the middle of this little village. A long row of stands held everything from huge wheels of cheese to fresh bread and grapes. We spent the first fifteen minutes as our "appetizer" (a.k.a. hoarding the free samples), and then walked back to the car to eat our purchases on the road (funnily, a very American thing to do during our very European meal). My dinner consisted of fresh milk, hot bread with cheese, and grapes from the stalls. Basically the most perfect meal ever, especially when I topped it off with the biggest cream puff ever. We were pretty dairied out the next day so we searched the streets of our next stop, Aix-en-Provence, for some salads. As usual, it took forever but it was worth it when we sat down at this really great, and obviously popular, salad place. Our food was delicious and healthy and fresh and we could not have left more satisfied... except that we were blessed with two MORE delicious things: massive cream puffs filled with a weird (but amazing) cream-ice cream mix, topped with whipped cream and chocolate fudge, and a cafe solely staffed by young, beautiful, French waiters with abnormally deep voices. It was not unlike the magical door to Narnia, as I have never seen more yummy things in one room in my life, and only magic could have produced this feast. So that took up Sunday...

We did some more exploring and found our way to a great YMCA hostel in Avignon later on. Since I had to leave early the next morning for Paris we woke up even earlier to have a little French breakfast before my train left. Our €5 got us grainy powdered coffee, a relatively decent croissant and Tang, which can only be described as fluorescent. I don't think that glass had ever seen an orange in its life. I guess our luck had to run out at some point but no matter, the French can make even Tang classy.

So here I am, back in Paris, back in a smokey cafe. I cant believe it's been 21 days and I've seen 5 countries (6 if you count Vatican City), learned how to say "Do you speak English?" in French, German, Croatian, and Italian, met people from all around the world, and have gotten disastrously lost in every city I've been in. I don't think I've ever been so proud of myself and I can honestly say I've changed and learned more about myself in 21 days than I have all year. So here's what I've learned:

1. You're supposed to get lost. Getting lost is the best part and once you stop freaking out you can end up in the most interesting places.

2. People in train stations that ask for an "extra 50 cent to buy a ticket" aren't really buying a ticket. And don't hand them your Coke while you rummage through your purse for change.

3. Not having coffee to go is a blessing. Yes, it's convenient to grab a Starbucks for the car, but being forced to sit down for five minutes can be the best part of your day.

4. No matter how busy you are, stop and eat - real food. Food (especially gelato) can work wonders.

5. Eating alone is like a date with yourself! And don't talk on the cell phone to look busy because that's silly.

6. Sleeping on the dock of a boat in the rain really makes you appreciate a real bed. Hostels can also have that effect.

7. Charge your camera every night, even if you think you're fine.

8. Not speaking a person's language can make you good friends...

There you go! I love Europe, but I love my Americans more, so come visit in London. As for me, I'm looking forward to settling down in one place and maybe living out of some drawers and a closet for a while :-)Au revoir, auf wiedersehen, dovidenja, fino al nostro prossimo incontro, until we meet again...