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Travel Diary

Study Abroad - London

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  • Sep 02, 2002 - Overview and Week 1
  • Sep 17, 2002 - Week 2
  • Sep 23, 2002 - Week 3
  • Sep 27, 2002 - Week 4 - A Weekend in Paris
  • Sep 30, 2002 - Week 5 and 6
  • Oct 11, 2002 - Amsterdam
  • Oct 14, 2002 - Oct 14
  • Oct 28, 2002 - Oct 28
  • Nov 04, 2002 - Nov
  • Nov 21, 2002 - Scotland
  • Nov 25, 2002 - Nov 25 - Nov 28
  • Nov 29, 2002 - Normandy Trip
  • Dec 02, 2002 - Penultimate Week
  • Dec 10, 2002 - Last Week
  • Monday, Oct 28, 2002

    Monday, October 28, 2002

    Ah, a break from school. It's not terribly necessary since the classes aren't too overwhelming. Still, it's nice. It was a quiet day with lots of studying. At night, I had another rehearsal. But before that I decided to travel around town and take some pictures. The best shot was Tower Bridge at night. I'll have to post that online soon.

    Tuesday, October 29, 2002

    I slept in. No need to wake up too early if it's going to be cloudy outside. I enjoyed the afternoon and worked on my school presentation. I even went down to a bookstore to buy a book on Sir Francis Drake. This made the presentation much easier to prepare.

    Wednesday, October 30, 2002

    The Dilke house has quieted down quite a lot from the lack of students. I spend a little time there and then head off to the library for studying. I went to the Reading Room of the British Library.

    Inside London, we have one of the great museums of England, the British Museum. It's well worth exploring and even more worth the price: free. Most of London's museums are free in an effort to restore the arts to the people. Hey, I can understand that. Viva la people! Viva la beer too! Now if we can just get that to be free as well.

    Inside the great British Museum is the reading room. It's essentially a library and study room, but is the finest I've ever seen or used. A great dome is above. It's painted light blue (possible purple) and gold. All around the circular room are books. They go three stories high. But most amazing is the history here. For in the past, many famous people have deep thoughts and studied here. To name a few: Samuel Morse, Bram Stoker, Oscar Wilde, Virginia Woolf, Mark Twain, Robert Browning, Charles Dickens, Charles Darwin, Robert Frost, and Karl Marx. And adding to the list...me. Yeah. Okay, so maybe the only way my name is going up on the famous people wall is if I write it on tape and then quickly post it up there when no one is looking. I'll then have to race out of here, and hope no one notices the discrepancy.

    By the way, if you don't recognize most of the names I wrote down; then it's time for you to visit this library (or any library) and do some reading. Reading is fun.

    Thursday, October 31, 2002

    It's Halloween! At least I think it is. It's not a holiday much celebrated in England. I saw almost no one in any sort of costume. Yeah, there were a couple of people in strange outfits, but that's seen every day over here, so it's difficult to distinguish the difference.

    Fireworks have been going off frequently during the evenings. It's all due to Guy Fawkes Day. Legend says he was a terrorist many years ago and tried to blow up Parliament. I guess they hanged the guy. Now, to celebrate the event, fireworks are lit off during the week leading up to November 5. On that day, bonfires are lit and effigies of the guy are burned. Sure, it's a very odd tradition. But so is having kids dress up like strange creatures and go house to house begging for food that is bad for them.

    Friday, November 1, 2002

    The week has gone by fast. My presentation is due Monday. So much needs to be done. The time is moving too fast.

    Saturday, November 2, 2002

    Today, I headed into town to walk all over London. The rain was insistent on coming along. I first headed to Waterloo station to walk along the river Thames. The rain was light at that point. It would soon change.

    Since I was passing by the Tate Modern Museum, I decided to check the place out. After all, the price is free. I was mainly interested in using the bathroom, but why not get some culture at the same time. The place was different than all the other museums I had been to. I examined a few rooms and found out that what I had assumed the place to be was correct. Modern art just doesn't interest me. And these people did everything short of just placing and empty frame on the wall and calling it "Creative Air." Really, the talent is severally questionable. Some examples of "art" were: a box with mirrors on it, a bookshelf with nothing on it, and a couple pieces of steel (one on top of the other).

    I then noticed another collection of art and head through a doorway. I'm stopped by a watchman and he says that it's a paid area to see. I check the wall and sure enough, they want 7.50 pounds to enter the Herman Bennett gallery. Uh...no. I mean you could even offer me 7.50 pounds to go in there and I'd still have to give it some thought. Really, this art is very subjective to opinions. Some would argue that it's "ahead of its time" and all that. I disagree. I feel that even if you sent these works forward 100 years in the future, those people would just say, "Uh...thanks, but it's uh, it's...ahead of OUR time too! Yeah, that's it. We'll simply send it forward another 100 years. Bye! Whish! Whew! Close call."

    Oddly enough, even with 8 million (+/- 1 million) people, London can be a small place. During my walk around the gallery, I bumped into Dorris, my homestay lady. She was there with an art appreciation class (Side note: even she feels that a lot of this "art" is questionable and that it's similar to the Emperor's New Clothes story). We chatted briefly and headed in different directions.

    I left the gallery and went along the Thames some more. It was raining steadily now. Finally, I reached the main goal of my day--the Golden Hind. I would take pictures of it to use in my presentation. But alas, the crew wasn't on the ship. There was a note on the gangway saying "Kaylyn's Birthday Party." Oh no! A private party was happening that day. Arrr! Shiver me timbers. I would be getting no tour today, Matey. From the belly of the ship, I could hear kids laughing and screaming while they ran around and played. Yeah, I was thinking I was possibly too old to try and pass off as one of Kaylyn's friends. Plus, they'd probably figure out that I was an imposter once I said, "Sure, I'd love some more cake and ice cream, but do tell me where on board this ship Drake had his friend's head chopped off?" It wasn't a good day to be walking the plank. No, Sir, not in this weather.

    I took the Tube up to Old Street Station. From there, I walked around trying to find a cannon ball from the Civil War. It wasn't a random quest. It's for history class. But the rain was really coming down. It was hard to know where to go. I soon found myself inside a very old cemetery. It looked like great weather for some creative pictures.

    Various headstones caught my eye. I noticed that Bunyon was buried there too. His writing credit of Pilgrim's Progress was also listed. Other well-known people were also buried at that cemetery. Yet, the sky was growing dark so I needed to begin walking again. I traveled down many streets until I entered the City of London. Forty-five minutes later, and I was finally at the British Museum to study. But oh no! It closed earlier on Saturdays. I would not be studying there. That was disheartening because I'd been walking for hours and my feet were really starting to hurt. My back hurt as well from carrying the heavy backpack all day. My arm wanted to hurt too from holding the umbrella, but frankly my brain was all out of "I'm in pain" space.

    I kept going though and wound up at the Internet café. There I met Heather and we chatted until she had to go to work. I then went home. Later that night, I got a text message on my phone from Kalaine. She was back from Italy. Yeah. This was great news. I called her up and chatted for a long while.

    Sunday, November 3, 2002

    I stayed home and studied. The hours flew by and soon enough, I was taking the tube to Goodge street station to meet Kalaine and Raquel for dinner. It was nice to see the both of them again. They shared stories of their travels as we dined at Café Uno. That restaurant was now our prime eating spot. Though, it's not cheap, but nothing in London ever is. Well, recently I did buy a cup of mash. It's a potato mush snack, which is very tasty and very cheap. Yeah, me like mash.

    Our dinner took a considerable amount of time but we were in no hurry. Dining in Europe is said to often be a three-hour event. I've learned that this is just due to slow service. Again, if you're not in a hurry, who cares? Restaurants are nice warm places to chat and hang out. Sure, the bill may spoil the conversation, but that's why they bring it out last. We did have a special weapon that night. During our last visit, we were given a secret envelope to bring back during our next dining experience there. The envelope would contain a coupon for anything from 15% to 100% off. We handed the waiter our envelope and hoped for the best.

    15%! Gee, what a shocking surprise. But hey, it was better than nothing. We would have eaten there even with 0% off. After dinner, we all went home.

    A few thoughts...

    Electricity -- they warn you not to plug your 110-120 volt appliances in over here. Yeah, like I needed someone to tell me that. I didn't bring a hairdryer anyway since I had the sides of my head shaved before I came over (I didn't intend for that to happen. I just wanted it "close." But after one pass of the shaver, I looked in the mirror and was quite aghast. "Looks good. Keep going," I said. Wasn't anything else to be done at that point. I couldn't exactly say "Oh no! Put it back. Put it back!")

    Yup. The voltage here is 220. That's a lot. I've been shocked several times growing up (Hey guys, let's divert this one electrical cord into 12 different directions for our clubhouse!) and I knew 110 was bad. I can only guess what 220 feels like. Though, I guess it's 50 hertz instead of 60 hertz back home. Either way, I'm sure it still "hurts." Ha, ha, ha. "Hurts/Hertz!" Oh gosh. Cabin fever must be setting in. I simply must get outside. Darn this heavy rain!

    The light switches are fun. They go down to turn on. I have no idea how this all got started. Maybe English people just have to be different. But that took some time to get used to. Many a light was left on due to this little nuance.

    Exercise -- well, I mostly report things are different, and this is pretty much the same as it is back home. Yet, I still want to mention it. People here have the same ideas that we do in the states, "I can only exercise at designated places of exercise." It's not that I expect people to be jogging in their three-piece suits while holding their umbrella heading to work. But if you take the Tube (and supposedly two million Londoners do each day), you've got this wonderful opportunity to fire up those leg muscles--steps. Oh the many, many steps. Steps to go up, and steps to go down. Certain Tube locations have elevators because they head so far down into the earth. Those places have around 130-200 steps. Yeah, that is a lot. It's about 8-13 flights of stairs. But what a great way to get stronger legs. Add that to all the walking, and one could have nice powerful quads after three months. Now, I don't always take the steps. Though, when I ride the elevator, it's due to me being engaged in a good conversation with someone, and not because I'm tired. If I skipped stairs when I was tired, I'd skip about every day. Honestly, I never really feel like walking up stairs. It doesn't even seem any easier after six weeks of doing so. But the thought of missing this daily (mini) workout does bother me. Tired or not, I always feel that my quads want to be worked. Who am I to say no?

    Crowds -- the people here are very nice. Sure, they're not extremely outgoing and many avoid eye contact with strangers, but I hear New York City is the same way. (I don't think it's because they fear becoming too close to their daily mugger). But ask for directions or help and most will be happy to oblige. (Actually, it could possibly be everyone. I haven't met anyone refusing to help yet.)

    It's a really good thing that people are generally nice, because there are so many people here. I've read that London has between 7-9 million people. That's quite an estimate, but yeah, I saw one sign that said London had 7 million people and another sign said 9 million. For the life of me, I can't fathom how a census could ever be off by 2 million! Maybe too much census taking at the pubs:

    Census taker: Let's see...your name?
    John Camden: It's John Camden.
    Census taker: Okay, that's John Camden and John Camden. Ah you two must be brothers.
    John Camden: Uh, there's only one of me.
    Census taker: Glad to meet you both. Have a nice day. I need another drink.

    I think all signs should read: London -- Population: 8 million (give or take a million)

    But again, it's crowded. If you're not claustrophobic, but looking to become, it's a great place to start. I guess it's just something you get used to after a while.

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