Tea with the Queen

London is the single best descriptor for what London’s like—a world all its own without any other place like it in the world. It’s interesting, because when I first ventured through London at the beginning of the program, I didn’t get nearly the glimpse that I got the second time around.

The first afternoon, a wet one, took me from the Cambridge train station to London King’s Cross, where I routinely took pictures of the legendary “Platform 9 ¾” like it wasn’t actually famous. I felt like such a tourist, but instead of trying to hide it under a fake British accent this time, I felt somewhat proud to be an American, and spoke with confidence.

After catching a train to Russell Square station, I walked with my friends Ben, Christina and Kyle to The Generator Hostel, where we would spend the night. It was eight in the evening and we were starving, so after putting down our bags, we walked to a fish and chips shop on the corner and ate the most delicious food I had eaten in a while. The fish and chips just keeps getting better and better each time I eat it.

We caught a train into town—Piccadilly Circus, the most Times Square-esque thing I’ve seen since I was last in New York City. It was beautiful. After getting hassled by club advertisers that would “only charge us a measly £10 quid”, we decided that a pub without a cover would be a better option. So we each drank a pint of beer and headed back to the hostels before the trains shut down for the night.

Upon returning, we spent some good time in the room together: new friends in a new place, and got late night sandwiches that were accompanied by late night laughs. And then we slept like babies.

Saturday was equally incredible in many different ways. Instead of meeting up with the PKP group that was coming that morning to take a walking tour of London (which we had already done twice), Ben, Christina, Kyle and I shelled out the £9 and spent a few hours exploring Westminster Abbey. It was incredible seeing a thousand years of history in one building, from the coronation chair of English monarchs to the graves of King Henry VI, Queens Elizabeth I and Mary. Even Charles Darwin and Isaac Newton are buried here. I think the highlight of the Abbey was seeing the grave of Oliver Cromwell, who was buried, excavated, decapitated for his atrocities, and then buried right back. It was brilliant.

At about a quarter till one in the afternoon, we finally met up with a portion of the group and took a boat to the Tower of London. We passed the London Bridge (quite plain actually), and the Tower Bridge (which is commonly mistaken as the London Bridge), which was beautiful. I fell asleep on the boat, which was sort of embarrassing, but it was nevertheless an incredible ride.



The Tower of London was okay, but there were more tourists in the way than there were things to see. Other than the crown jewels and a few sweet suits of armor in the White Tower (as well as a column with all sorts of guns, pictured), the attractions were standard at best, and scarcely worth the £15 we had to pay to get in. The soft cream at the tower did give a bit of a boost, however, and I ate it with such deliberation that my back actually stopped hurting for a moment whilst the cold memory of childhood touched my tongue and dripped down my hand.

After a few hours, we left the bloody tower and headed to the Globe Theatre (the home of Shakespeare) to watch King Lear. We got dinner on the way at Pizza Express, which was surprisingly delicious. The play was terrible for about the first hour. We were groundlings and had to stand the entire time, so although the acting was absolutely brilliant, my back and feet ached so bad that I couldn’t hardly concentrate at all on what was going on in front of me on stage. I grabbed overpriced lemonade from the concession stand and came back refreshed. When I got lost in the action of what was going on, I forgot about my aches and thought the play was fantastic. At its conclusion, about two hours later (three hours in total), I was so overcome by emotion that I nearly cried. I never liked Shakespeare, but when it’s performed well, it is actually pretty good!

So the group loaded the buses and we headed back to Cambridge for another week of buckling down and working hard, and the trip was over.

You know what? It's actually starting to hit me for the first time how much the United States have actually given me. As much as I wanted to come here this summer, I was worried about nothing more than being an American citizen. I didn't want to have that stigma on me. This administration, this war, this newfound American fear of terrorists and of the rest of the world, has really caused us to make fools of ourselves when going to other countries. The first thing I've been asked when talking to many foreigners is: "Does anyone in your country actually like President Bush?" But none of that can take away from the fact that apart from being much cheaper than Europe, America has a sense of friendliness that Cambridge just doesn't. There is a sense of pride and purpose in our nation, regardless of how much our government has botched up over the past eight (more like fifty) years, and we still have more liberties and power than any country on the globe. And even though the British joke about how our average voter turnout is the lowest in the free world at about 17%, at least we have the right not to vote.

So yes, I may be from a country of lazy, ignorant, egocentric isolationists, jumping at any opportunity to make the world a freer place for all while we give politicians the authority to enact things like the Patriot act and the National Security/ Presidential Directive number 51, but hey... we're freer than anyone else. We've got McDonalds, Walmart and Ford to keep us alive... Exxon, Nike and Starbucks.

But it's still home, and the great thing about our country is that when the people finally realize that they have the power to do something about the corruption at bay, we will stand up and turn this country back into what we hoped it would be all along--the land of the free, the home of the brave, and of course, the Big Mac capital of the world.

Two Weeks and a Vow to make this a more regular thing.

The funny thing is that I have been writing every day--journaling when I wake up, writing down thoughts at the cafe or in class--whatever, and have so failed to keep this blog something I regularly update.

SO! Here's what you've missed if you're just tuning in, or have not been around to hear my excitement through all of the many posts I've made (just kidding).

So classes began On June 30, a day after everyone was to arrive at Cambridge. I am taking a Creative Writing course by a very qualified, Ms. Emma Sweeney, who has written a few books herself and has great things to add to our lectures and discussions. I am also currently taking a Natural Philosophy course taught by Dr. Richard Jennings, a professor whose brilliance can only be matched by one other man I know, Dr. Joseph P. Byrne. The first bit of the class is actually somewhat of a review for me because we talked in depth about many of the subjects in Dr. Byrne's class, but as the class progresses, we will be getting into the newer stuff in much depth. It's great. In the first week, we've already gone on three field trips to places all around Cambridge, visiting museums, galleries and taking the grand tour, seeing places such as Charles Darwin's old residence and Issac Newton's old office. It's amazing to know that you're in a place where some of History's greatest minds made their mark on society.

So after classes on that Monday, everyone got ready and we had a formal dinner in King's college--a full three course meal with free wine that could rival any high class steakhouse. I thought the food was fantastic. We learned a bit about the history of King's college and got to walk on the grass, something only allowed for Fellows of the college.

Class was pretty standard on Tuesday and Wednesday, but unfortunately, I was really starting to feel the jet lag, and had to work quite hard to keep awake in class.

Thursday (July 3), most of the students and myself got on a bus for Edinburgh, Scotland and took a long vacation for celebrating U.S. Independence. Scotland was absolutely beautiful. It was incredible seeing the land where my ancestors fought for freedom from England, as well as getting to see some of the most incredible views I've seen in a while.

Day one was hiking the Trossachs, the miniature highlands. My shoes got so muddy and wet that I was sure they wouldn't ever recover, but the hike was good and the pictures were better (see above). And yes, I did manage to get my shoes looking good again, but it took them three days to completely dry... And then we went on a scotch whiskey tasting experience, and I wasn't so bothered by the soggy shoes anymore.

Day two in Scotland was the Magnificent Mile. I got the chance to see the place where J.K. Rowling came up with the ideas for Harry Potter (left), scribbling them on a napkin, and also got to play in a pub quiz, where the Scottish announcer could barely be understood. Scottish beer is incredible!

And that was Scotland in a very brief, two minute blurb.

Coming up next.... Week Two and London.... Stay Tuned!

The Indigo Cafe, Cambridge, UK (brought to you by the Cinematic Orchestra)

This pen was lying on the table of the most incredible coffee shop I have ever visited. Barclays, a bank in the UK, provided this pen as a gesture of thanks to one of its customers who probably (after finding out it was virtually useless with a broken click-lock mechanism) deposited it (no pun intended) on a table here in the Indigo cafe off St. Edwards passage. In a couple of days, I will live RIGHT next door. How epic.

And speaking of EPIC, this latte is absolutely phenomenal. So smooth on the gulp, bitter on the swallow.. just the way a good one should be. And this pen, merely the stick, point and ink, having its dysfunctional blue sheath removed by my curious hands, brings me closer than I have ever been to the page, the word and the idea. I think we may become friends. To add to it, the music in here is putting me on the virge of happy tears.. The Cinematic Orchestra. I'm going directly after this latte to find a shop where I can get a copy, as well as the new Sigur Ros.

Tonight, I stay at the hostel near the train station. It's strange how different the city is than out there, and even stranger how different ALL of it is from London and Notting Hill. I've still got quite a bit of reading to do, and probably won't be able to finish but one book. But that's okay. And there's a book that I still can't find. It's called "Watch me Disappear" and is by a British lady named Jill Dawson.

I suppose it disappeared.

June 25- The Flight

So here we go... another flight, another city. A layover, a phone call, an intercom, a seatbelt and another bland ham dinner. It all just seems so routine, doesn't it? The airports look so similar, the food is all so overpriced.. And yes, there will always be at least ONE guy on every flight whose alcohol purchases keep the airline in business.

Men in suits board in irritation, silent and focused. Wall street journals and Business weeks outnumber fiction and popculture and they've all learned to skip the pretzels, skip the ginger ale and head straight to a dream world of frequent flier miles and paid vacations. Last names on cards and other men in suits wait to pick them up, and soon their bellies will be filled with hibachi steak or sushi or twenty-dollar sandwiches picked up from the "best in the town".

And yet, here I am... nervous... excited for all of these opportunities that await me. A new continent. A new place to see the sun rise. A world away from all of my friends that will just solidify our bonds. Self discovery, adventure and uncertainty.. and there's some sort of hole in my mind that I soon hope to fill with the knowledge of another culture. Welcome to London. And thanks again for flying United.

This is going to be fun.

I leave tomorrow. Be waiting. I love you all.