Loos & Lorries

Compilation of photos from Stonehenge, Bath and the Roman Baths.

Thu, 20 Oct 2011 12:44:30 -0400

Compilation of photos from Stonehenge, Bath and the Roman Baths.

Adventure Weekend

Thu, 20 Oct 2011 12:37:23 -0400

This past weekend, 14-16th October, I spent in the Lake District. The trip was part of my program’s included events. Adventure Weekend, as it’s called, is a time for active and adventurous souls to climb mountains, scramble gorges, and hike trails. Or, for the “literary minded,” there was a trip to Dove Cottage and Hilltop Farm to look forward to! Exactly right for me. Don’t get me wrong, I like adventure. Really, I do, it’s just… I’d much prefer to see where Wordsworth lived and wrote the best poems of his life! And Beatrix Potter is pretty neat, too. Or, at least, Renee Zellweger is… in that biopic with Ewan McGregor. And tell me, who doesn’t love Peter Rabbit??

So it was settled. I sighed and tucked away those intense desires of doing via ferrata and rafting, resigned to satisfy my desire to witness some literary history, instead.

Just wanted to see if you’d buy that! As if! I nearly choked in my relief after seeing the activities list. Thank GOD some poor kilt-clad highlander wasn’t going to have to rescue me from a mountaintop, though it would have made a romantic story to tell our grandkids. Besides, I was sick (and am still getting over) a sinus infection. No strenuous activities, and absolutely NO wetsuits.

Anyways, the adventure for me happened before I even got to Derwentwater, where our hostel was located, outside Keswick. Instead of going on the coach like everybody else on Friday, my friend Caroline and I decided to take the late train from London to Penrith. We had too many obligations we couldn’t get out of on Friday morning and afternoon, sadly. So I arranged for us to take the train into London, the tube into Euston station, and there to get our tickets to Penrith (on the train to Glasgow). Well…. we cut it close! We didn’t realize how long the… queue for the tickets at Euston would be, and we ended up running to catch our train. By the time we got on, there were approximately zero seats left! But, panting and relieved, we didn’t care. We made the train! That was enough adventure for us both!

We sat down in the small space between compartments, with two other people, both guys. One was a nice Asian boy who asked me to watch his bag, rather hastily, while he ran to the loo. The other was a really nice British guy, working on his masters in something or other, who ascertained that Caroline and I were Americans studying abroad. We had a nice chat before the conductor, really amicably, came round to offer us “ladies” real seats. I sat next to a good-looking, reticent man who spent the whole ride listening to strange and eccelctic music on his computer. I know it was strange and ecclectic because I could both hear it from his headphones and see it when he occassionally looked videos up on Youtube. Odd, but, there it is. I spent the ride sniffling and coughing, and to be honest, questioning my judgment in coming when I was so ill…

But the train was only three hours, compared to the coach’s seven, and I was grateful for that! We arrived very late, missed the pub quiz, but in time to catch up with everyone before bed. The next day we rose at 8, breakfasted, and separated to do our activities.

First was Wordsworth’s house, Dove Cottage. I was supremely eager to see it, as I have a newfound appreciation for Wordsworth. I think studying him while I am here has helped in that regard. My romanticisms class has proved to be the most inspiring for me. Wordsworth, though quite conceited, it would seem, was immensly talented and is capable, through all the old-timey-ness of his writing, to move me. The cottage was remarkable in that it was barely remarkable. Having been a pub, it dates to the 17th century, I think. I am very interested in the relationships of Wordsworth’s. Between himself and Coleridge, his wife, and most of all, his sister. I think Dorothy is somewhat overlooked. Wordsworth and Coleridge took things from her diaries for their writing! How unfair! I wonder about how … close those two were (Dorothy and W. that is). Anything like Byron and his sister? The cottage piqued my interest. There was a great collection of stuff in the adjacent museum, including really fascinating journals and paintings. There was also an exhibit dedicated to the Shelleys and their people, namely Percy Bysshe, Mary Godwin, Mary Wollstencraft, etc. Superbly interesting.

Next we went to Hilltop farm. It was very quaint, and very British feeling. There was an expansive, hilly green across the road from the cottage, dotted with the most adorable sheep. Oh, the sheep!!! All the American girls were in love, for what ever reason, myself among them. I’ve always had a fondness for dumb animals. The gardens and fields that were part of Hilltop Farm had a few sheep in them, as well as bunnies, and I got to pet one of the sheep. Too exciting, really, rather shameful, how happy I was to pet the tufty wool. The sheep had no idea what was going on, with us all twittering around the fence. Sort of dumb animals ourselves…

The cottage was overseen by a group of rather pinched old ladies. They let us in at precisely two o’ clock, and we wandered around the rooms. All of the furniture belonged to Beatrix, and it was mainly arranged the way it would have been when she lived there. Exquisitely preserved. I even saw a copy of the original letter where Ms. Potter came up with the ideas and illustrations for Peter Rabbit.

Then we wandered around the village, stopping by the real life places mentioned in the stories. There was a wonderful tea room that had commanding views of the country. We debated going to the nearby gallery of Beatrix Potter’s work, but eventually decided to head back to the hostel.

We arrived around an hour ahead of the other groups, so while Caroline took a nap, I decided to take advantage of the free time and walk around. There was a beautiful waterfall behind the hostel, and I soon found a trail leading up to it and beyond. I must have been in the woods for over an hour or so, all by myself, taking in the beauty of it all. I stopped by the stream and attempted to skip stones, but failed, and just rested by its banks, on a plush mossy boulder. I enjoyed the tranquility.

I came upon two women on my way back down the path, and was thankful I had had so much time to myself. I then made my way down to the gorgeous lake, Derwentwater (for which our hostel is named), directly across the road from the hostel.

I moseyed my way down the long path leading to the road, and I remember being passed by an officious-looking girl in strange getup, what seemed to be leggings or possibly a wetsuit, covered by a bright red windbreaker. She seemed to be a rush, somewhere to go. This was why I was really surprised to see her when I got the lake, just crouching on its banks, picking up stones. I felt like I was intruding, and rather hoping to continue in my solitude, I made for the public footpath, and she, perhaps hoping for the same privacy, began walking in the opposite direction.

By this time, the sun was setting, and let me just say, the color of the sky reflected in that water, the clouds behind the mountains not too far off in the distance… breathtaking. It was too massive a view, too beautiful to really take in at once.

It was also pretty frigid at this time, and my nose was running but I didn’t care, my hands freezing and no tissues with me. None of it mattered. I encountered a few people, coming the opposite way on the footpath, but mostly I was alone. I took loads of pictures, and found the perfect stones to skip in the lake, flat, smooth things that skipped wonderfully. I felt I had redeemed myself in the eyes of the stone-skipping gods and just relished the clean, refreshing air. That feeling was worth everything.

The next day we rose early and walked around the town of Keswick. Really charming little place, perfectly ensconced by mountains. Lizzy, Caroline and I had discovered earlier in the weekend that Keswick is home to a pencil museum, and though joking at first, we later became seriously resolved in visiting it. We’d never heard of such a place. It was the tinest museum ever, clearly intended more for children, but we didn’t mind in the least. It was wonderful. I didn’t know pencils could be so interesting. It sounds so dull when I write it down, but it really offered quite a bit of relevant history. The display case that struck me most explained how the factories, during WWII, hid silk maps of Germany and little compasses inside the pencils and then dropped them from airplanes over enemy territory, so that POWs could find their way! So cool. There were also really early examples of pencils, and… to top it all off, the museum houses the longest colored pencil in the world! It was ENORMOUS. And yellow, curiously enough.

The ride home wasn’t quite painless, but definitely worth the experience of the whole weekend. This coming weekend I’m headed to Wales!

A Summary, and a Plea for Pardon

Fri, 07 Oct 2011 22:07:04 -0400

Forgive me! I keep meaning to update on here, but it just keeps getting pushed to the wayside. As it is, since the last time I’ve written, so much has happened! I’ll most likely write things chaotically… a bit out of order. I’ll do my best to be as organized as possible about it!

I don’t think I’ve told you about the British museum tour. That was a few weeks ago. I learned how all the national museums in London are free entry (awesome!!). I saw the Rosetta Stone (interesting) and some really wonderful Greek friezes and statues. Lizzy knows all about them, so we stayed after the tour left (they wanted to give us a very rushed hour in there—-not enough time, besides, we knew how to get home!) I decided that day I do not like mummies one bit. I understand they’re significance, I suppose. But they really freak me out in general. The one, Ginger, gave me chills. Ugh, don’t want to think about it. I liked filling my head with the things from the Enlightenment room. Spacious, library-type room with shelves of ancient books and cases with interesting instruments. The main entrance, though, is so breathtaking. All glowy and white. It felt religious. Which was ironic, when our guide pointed out that museums are free and that they have to pay to attend church! I’ll have to look into that more, I think. It doesn’t seem right. Besides, there seems more to admire in the British Museum than in a church service. The beauty of the history, the elegance, too much to be borne. Things in there are older than Christ!

I’ve been to London a bunch of times since, and while there I’ve seen the State Rooms of Buckingham Palace as well as the Mews. I had no clue what the Royal Mews were til I got there, and lo and behold—stables! Mostly empty, saw a few cars, one a lovely “royal claret” color (love the sound of that, delicious, no?) and a handful of horses. Sad-looking creatures. The state rooms were sumptuous. I’m not sure which I prefer, though, Windsor or Buckingham. I suppose there is more history at Windsor, something more remote and romantic. Whatwith all the dead royals below your feet and the old stones of the place. But Buckingham is terrific. I saw Kate Middleton’s wedding gown, up close! I really didn’t think I cared about that sort of thing, honest. But then I saw it. It is a work of art. And talk about art! The royal collection…. too much. Just too much. We saw the exhibit on the Fabergé eggs! Every room was perfectly arranged; the gold and white room might have been my favorite. Most of the windows looking out to the back gardens were open; a delicious breeze played about us. Walking through the garden path afterwards was a perfect way to end the tour.

Before all that, I’d been on the Eye of London, which was breathtaking. The view of the Thames from that high up is marvelous, with the sun shining all about the waters. I must’ve taken about 500 photos of Big Ben. It’s difficult to avoid being touristy… it’s fading though, the touristy giddiness, like a bad sunburn.

I’ve seen the closing performance of Much Ado About Nothing at the Globe Theatre, with an amazing cast! (I might post my review of it that I’m writing for the F&M paper on here… haven’t decided) The cast included Geoffrey, the butler, on that seminal cultural landmark (I am NOT KIDDING) The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. That’s right. Joseph Marcell played Leonato, with such conviction. Wonderful, wonderful actor. My friends Lizzy and Caroline and I got standing room tickets for five pounds the day of the performance. We were right against the stage. Had some disgusting prop water sprinkled (or, thrown, rather) onto us, but in the end we each snagged a rose, too. It was a feel-good play to end that day with.

Speaking of wonderful acting, the other day, I think it was this past Wednesday, I spent the day in London. I went to see a film quite cheaply as part of the annual Raindance Film Festival. I shopped around a bit with Lizzy and then, on a whim, we decided to try and get tickets to see Anna Christie. Starring that actor… Jude Law? You might have heard of him? He dabbles about in film sometimes… Well, the performance was at 7:30 and we got stand-by return tickets at 7:29 PM on the dot! It was an amazing experience. Law had such leonine grace and power in his performance. He would take these huge lumbering strides about the stage, dominating as much space as possible with his movements. And his brogue was superb. I was struck, by the whole damn thing.

Let’s see, tomorrow I head off to see Stonehenge and Bath! I am too excited. I keep thinking of Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbervilles and that final scene among the rocks… isn’t that supposed to be Stonehenge? Either way, I always think of that scene, with its dark, brooding, mystical feeling. I shall see it in the daylight tomorrow. Bath promises to fill that aching Jane Austen void I’ve felt for ages. Cannot wait!

I promise to keep better updates in the future! I shall post more pictures, too, from all this galavanting I’ve done.

Long-awaited Windsor Photos

Thu, 29 Sep 2011 16:34:38 -0400

Long-awaited Windsor Photos

Windsor Castle 20/09/2011

Wed, 21 Sep 2011 18:17:00 -0400

Yesterday was a beautiful British day. I found out my class times at a departmental induction for English, and then Lizzy and I took the bus to Windsor Castle!

It was only a fifteen minute bus ride directly from campus. Once we got there, we had only to walk two short blocks, if even that, to get to the entrance. It was absolutely gorgeous. The history was overwhelming. I think having taken medieval literature last fall really helped me appreciate the history of the place. It is hard to imagine something that was originally built a little after 1066… still standing! It’s older than my country! And can I just say St. George’s Chapel…. life-changing.

I stood right above where Henry VIII and Jane Seymour were buried. Words can hardly describe the experience.

Photos weren’t allowed in the chapel and state apartments, which was unbelievably tempting. Still, I think, especially in the chapel, the lack of camera usage added to the sober air about the place. I mean, it was already crawling with tourists. It would have been a bit tasteless to see people posing cheesily in front of tombs and such. Respect for the dead and all, you know? But I made sure to buy some postcards of the really lovely bits, like the image above, of Henry VIII’s burial spot.

The funny thing was, I had sat down on a pew right next to the spot without seeing what was on the ground next to me. Then, as soon as I realized, I nudged Lizzy, who shares an appreciation for good ol’ Henry (she’s a fan of The Tudors and we had just been talking about The Other Boleyn Girl the night before… so it was really fitting to be seated right by it), even though, as a classics major, her interest in history is generally thousands of years older than the castle, haha. Anyway, very shortly after I pointed it out to her, loads of people around us seemed to notice it as well. So she and I were lucky to have had this brief, private moment with it, before everyone and their sodding grandmother shoved us out.

We wandered the grounds, taking photos and listening to our amusing audio tour. Inside, we saw Queen Mary’s Dolls’ House as well as the Drawings Gallery.

I could have spent more time at the Gallery, poring over the works by Da Vinci and others. There was a special exhibit of the biography of Elizabeth II’s husband, Prince Phillip. The tour of the State Apartments followed.

I might have died and gone to heaven. The whole place was so sumptuous. The architecture, the furniture, the display cases of guns! And the art. Oh, the art. The Royal Collection is insane. There are simply no words.

The photo above is of St. George’s Hall, which was damaged in the fire of 1992. The ceiling is all new, but crafted with medieval techniques. Each panel has the crest of one knight of the Order of the Garter, though some of them are blank, to symbolize those who have, through some shame or another, been removed from the Order. The hall is towards the end of the tour, and right next to the room where it is believed the 1992 fire began. In the room is a plaque which states the repairs were finished five years after the fire, on the fiftieth wedding anniversary of Elizabeth II and Prince Phillip. In one of the rooms damaged by the fire, the floor boards were simply individually picked up and turned over, in order to preserve the original floor!

After frolicking about the state apartments, Lizzy and I ate a late lunch/early supper at the Drury House Restaurant.

We both had fish & chips, my first here in the UK. I had no idea of the history of the place til I looked it up just now. Apparently it was built in 1645! And there is a tunnel connecting it to the castle… as it used to be part of the property of Nell Gwyn…. “Charles II’s favourite Mistress; to accommodate their secret liaisons, a tunnel was built between the Drury House and the Castle, enabling Nell Gwyn to have a secret rendezvous with the King at a moment’s notice.”(http://www.druryhouse.co.uk/) How awesome is that?

We sat at the table near the back, left corner. It is a rather small place, but cozy, and the current proprietors were very nice to us.

We finished up our visit by wandering near our bus stop, which was right in front of the Parish Church of St. John the Baptist. We entered without really knowing any significance of the church. I just thought it was beautiful and open and we had a half hour wait for our bus, so… we ended up inside, where we (thankfully) saw a sign welcoming visitors to take photos. It was very beautiful, and I probably would have appreciated the inside a bit more had I not just been spoilt to death by the grandeur of St. George’s and the State Apartments. There was a huge surprise for me, though, when I happened to glance up, opposite the altar, at the wall on the floor above the entrance. There hung this painting:

Called, “The Last Supper,” it is ascribed to Franz de Cleyn (1588-1658), court painter to James I. It used to hang in St. George’s, but was gifted to the Parish Church sometime in the 19th Century. A national treasure, according to the church’s website, it is breathtaking to behold.

This weekend, I’m to go back to London, so I’ll keep you posted about that! Until then, I’ll probably post some photos I took of the grounds at Windsor and the surrounding area, the church, etc. I can’t wait to see London again and get a proper tour of the British museum!

Photo

Sun, 18 Sep 2011 15:14:20 -0400

Photo

Sun, 18 Sep 2011 13:47:39 -0400

Back near Kingswood, a mile from RHUL.

Sun, 18 Sep 2011 13:40:31 -0400

Back near Kingswood, a mile from RHUL.

From Kingswood (& PA?!) to Wedderburn

Sat, 17 Sep 2011 15:20:01 -0400

So, I’ve finally moved into my study room, and met most of my flatmates. The last day we Americans spent at Kingswood, about a mile from the campus of RHUL, I went for a walk. I’ll post photos of that next. But anyways, now I’m settled into my absolutely gorgeous room and am only slightly disappointed to be living with freshmen, or “freshers,” as they call them. But so far they all seem to be very nice. The town of Egham is very quiet, but there is a high street in which we can get all our necessities, and, of course, visit a pub or two. Tonight we had a lecture for freshmen, which only grated the smallest bit, and have to look forward to a party of some sorts at the club on campus, called Medicine.

As for my flatmates, Lizzy and I are the only Americans, though we had an interesting encounter with one boy’s mother in the kitchen. She overheard our accents and asked whereabouts in America I was from. I told her, “Pennsylvania,” with the certainty that she would nod, but with that look of, “Well… I don’t have a clue where/what that is.” But she exclaimed that Pennsylvania is where she hailed from, some twenty years ago! She forced her son to introduce himself at that point, which wasn’t as awkward as it could have been, and then we had to explain that we were not, in fact, going to study there for the whole three years. Later, we met the French boy on our flat, Anatole, who apparently spent ten years of his life in, of all places… Philadelphia! So he’s actually heard of Lancaster! It is a small world… More updates and photos to come!

Photo

Fri, 16 Sep 2011 20:20:46 -0400

Photo

Fri, 16 Sep 2011 19:04:38 -0400

Photo

Fri, 16 Sep 2011 15:10:34 -0400

Founder's Building!

Path to the right

Whence we came

My school

Day 3! I finally got a chance to explore Royal Holloway!

Fri, 16 Sep 2011 12:43:00 -0400

The Road to Egham

Tuna & Sweet Corn & Mango Smoothie

I live in Wedderburn!

Walking around campus

First glimpse of Founder's Building

Beautiful

Day 3! I finally got a chance to explore Royal Holloway!

England, Day 2, South Bank at night. The London Eye was...

Fri, 16 Sep 2011 11:57:35 -0400

The London Eye

South Bank at night

Cleopatra's Needle

Incorrect Sphinx

England, Day 2, South Bank at night. The London Eye was absolutely gorgeous, the lights reflecting on the Thames. Cleopatra’s Needle is (according to our tour guide) the oldest structure in London. It was a gift, so it really is from ancient Egypt, I think. And the sphinx is incorrect, again, according to our guide, because they are supposed to face outward. But it is a pretty photo!

England, Day 2, After the play!

Fri, 16 Sep 2011 07:45:57 -0400

Downing Street!

A peek at the Eye...

Big Ben!

England, Day 2, After the play!

England, Day 2, Continued. The end of the Walking Tour of...

Fri, 16 Sep 2011 07:36:00 -0400

Near South Bank

Lovely quote by Oscar Wilde

The bus says where we are!

On good ol' Virginian soil... in London!

England, Day 2, Continued. The end of the Walking Tour of London.

England, Day 2, Continued. The Walking Tour of London.

Thu, 15 Sep 2011 20:08:00 -0400

Theatre Royal, Drury Lane

Walking towards Somerset House!

Our guide explaining something...

Admiring the architecture

To prevent cabbies from long pub stops!

England, Day 2, Continued. The Walking Tour of London.

Thu, 15 Sep 2011 19:59:00 -0400

Reminded me of Bleak House!

The guide raved about this play!

Headquarters of the Freemasons

Covent Garden Square

England, Day 2, Continued. The Walking Tour of London.

"Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your..."

Thu, 15 Sep 2011 19:11:09 -0400

“Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you - it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you… Hopefully, you leave something good behind.”

- Anthony Bourdain

(via hopelesslymg)

England, Day 2, continued. The last of the British Museum,...

Wed, 14 Sep 2011 19:09:14 -0400

England, Day 2, continued.

The last of the British Museum, before the walking tour.