Tired of London, Tired of Life

I don’t think I’m what any one would call “well-prepared.” Any suggestion to do anything early (getting up, packing, finishing homework, etc.) is usually met by my suppressed laughter. The night before we left for London last weekend, I was half-packed. But Julia had set her alarm for 5:45, which would give us a little over an hour the next morning to finish packing and get ready. Ample time. Looking back, it was stupid of me to think that, after 19 years of waiting until the last semi-possible second to finish anything, I would actually have enough time, perhaps even time left over, that morning. Personally, my theory is not that Julia accidentally set her alarm to 6:45, but, more plausibly, that there was some kind of intervention that I can only describe as supernatural sabotage (so ghosts. Or, like, gnomes. Maybe.).

Either way, we only had 15 (14 by the time Julia figured out what time it actually was) minutes to finish everything and get to the cabs. We channeled the villains in those old silent films, where they seem to carry out their plans in a constant state of fast forward. Somehow, we ran out of our house at 7:02, remembering nearly everything (I forgot an umbrella, Julia forgot pajama pants, and we both forgot towels).

The train ride to King’s Cross Station was gorgeous. I had Vampire Weekend singing in my ear, and a vast green landscape laid out before me. The sun finally began to peek its head out from under its dewy covers. Stamped across the sunrise were trees like veins, stretching toward the rosy sky. All the pictures I tried to take of this came out blurry—a speeding train can have that effect on photos apparently. When we got to the station, we found a wall that said Platform 9 ¾ with a trolley sticking out of it. We took advantage of the touristy moment while British commuters looked at us with a pleasant mixture of amusement and pity.

The weekend’s schedule was bursting with destinations. We first visited the Museum of London. It was very interesting except we had to stay on a set path through the museum, which I wasn’t a huge fan of (you know, free spirit and everything). After grabbing lunch at a cozy Italian place, we went to St. Paul’s Cathedral. Words really can’t describe how magnificent that place was. Trying to process the incredible detail, the sheer

size, and the religious significance of the cathedral was overwhelming. If I had had a touch more femininity in me, I definitely would have cried. Another moment that almost brought me to tears in the cathedral is when we all decided to climb to the top of it. The picture on the left is a simple layout marking points you could climb to in St. Paul’s. We aimed for the top, the tippiest top of it. About half way up (translation: 1/1000 of the way up), my body started to rebel against me. I mean, I understand. When your favorite pastime is being under a blanket in bed and your favorite food is anything deep fried, climbing stairs can be

considered somewhat foreign (No, I’m not ashamed [Fine, I am]). But I conquered those dizzying spiral stairs. And the view from the top of the dome was beyond worth it. You could walk in a circle and see everything: Big Ben, the London Eye, Globe Theatre, that bridge that the Death Eaters destroyed in Harry Potter. Unfortunately, both of the adults on our trip were afraid of heights, so the poor guys weren’t as excited about the hike up.

After St. Paul’s, we found our hostel and divided into groups for our rooms. The hostel was really nice, with a comfy lobby/bar and very cozy rooms. Saturday night, we were unable to stay in rooms with people from our group only. Julia and I ended up staying in a room with four women, one who was already asleep when we got there and who I thought was a child but turned out to be a very short Asian lady. It all turned out fine, despite the snorers and 5 am risers.

During the day on Saturday, we went took a tour of Parliament, went inside Westminster Abbey (beautiful and ornate, but for some reason did not have the same effect on me as St. Paul’s), and took a boat tour along the river Thames. Well, we thought we were on a boat tour, but it ended up being a boat shuttle that we

stayed on for 2 hours until it looped back to our original location. I loved it, though; it was relaxing and fun to get to know the people in our group better. Afterward, we had some free time. A group of us decided to find the theatre we had to be at by 7 and then go to a pub (We ended up at a Mexican restaurant). The night before, we went to see Billy Elliot, which was phenomenal, hilarious, and very moving. That night we saw The Mousetrap, the longest running play in history. It was a murder mystery by one of my favorite authors, Agatha Christie, and it was brilliant.

On Sunday, we went to see the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace and then to a place called Speaker’s Corner in Hyde Park. Honestly, it was a bit too cold out to thoroughly enjoy the changing of the guard, although I did like watching a video of our director Matt wading through the fountain to retrieve his wallet (confession: can’t remember if it was his wallet, but it was definitely something valuable). Speaker’s Corner has a really cool history. It was one of the first places where people could go in England to speak freely about any subject without fearing punishment from the government.

We then took the tube back to King’s Cross. Just a general statement: I really love the London Underground. The trains come every couple minutes, and I loved finding the fastest routes to the places we needed to go. As soon as we got to King’s Cross, we found a train heading to Cambridge, and right as we sat down, the train started moving. Talk about perfect timing.

Although going to London for the weekend was amazing, I really liked being back in the study center. The trip made this place feel more like home. This past weekend, everyone except a few of us went off to Edinburgh. It was pretty fun having the house to ourselves. We watched a ton of movies (good movies too: When Harry Met Sally, Pretty Woman, Clueless, Jerry Maguire), and on Saturday night, four of us went out. We went to this pub called The Bath House and then to a club called Fez. It was a ton of fun spending time with my friends and dancing and pulling each other away from weirdos who tried to dance with us.

Slowly but surely, I am getting used to living in this beautiful place. Julia and Bryn just made these desserts that are basically cookie dough inside a brownie dipped in chocolate, so I am currently in an artery-clogged paradise. Technology update: although I have successfully gotten my computer to connect to the internet, I dropped my phone in the toilet a few days ago. At the moment, it is acting totally fine, so fingers crossed it doesn’t decide to get moody on me. Expect more simple stories that I make unnecessarily elaborate soon!

Danielle