Valpo Voyager

Student Stories from Around the World

Tag: Cambridge (page 4 of 10)

Visiting Friends and Valiant Intentions

Two days after Julia and I returned from our trips to Barcelona and Paris, one of our best friends Sam came to visit us for a week. It had been two and a half months since we had last seen her (over 7 months for Bryn), and it seemed that we could talk of nothing else in the weeks leading up to her arrival. Over text and Facebook, we had raved to each other about the impending reunion and inadvertently crafted a tower of expectations built on a foundation of shimmering, yet freaking unstable sand. Here were some of those unrealistic expectations paired with what actually happened:

1. Epic Reunion: We were fully ready to embarrass ourselves in front of the general British public. Originally, I had pictured meeting Sam at the airport with Bryn and Julia. As she rolled her swanky Vera Bradley suitcase through customs to the arrival area (and hitting baggage claim sometime around there too. I admit, I didn’t have all the kinks worked out), the three of us would mob her in a huge hug that encompassed all the hugs we didn’t get to have during the months we were apart. Squeals, laughs as our collective lack of balance would have imminently led to toppling over, and tears (mostly on Sam’s part) would all have been part of this experience. It would have been a hug to end all hugs, with the least appreciative audience to witness it: tired British people in a hurry.

Out beloved Crepe Cart

Our beloved Crepe Cart, this picture becomes relevant later

Reality: Well, if you have an incredible memory, you’ll remember that as soon as Julia and I got back from our break, we had a 10 page paper due for our art appreciation class that Monday. Being the two go-getters that we are, neither of us started until Sunday afternoon. When I woke up the next morning to print my paper out, all the photos I had were out of order, and it took a couple hours to fix. We also had class that morning, so we couldn’t pick up Sam from the airport with Bryn. We were also going on a trip to Ely Cathedral, and because of the paper mishap, I hadn’t showered. Or brushed my hair. Or done anything to make myself look in any way presentable. As the taxis were pulling away from the house, I saw Bryn and Sam walk in front of the car. I screeched, “Wait, stop!” I then proceeded to kick the car door open (because apparently too much excitement leads to a loss of hand mobility) and half tackled Sam, twisting her ankle in the process. Two seconds later, I was back in the car. Julia managed an enthusiastic wave from her taxi. It was magical.

2. Adventures Worthy of a Movie Contract: I’m going to admit something that I feel comfortable sharing with you, now that we’ve gotten to know each other over the past few months. I was pretty sure we were going to meet One Direction on this trip. Not positive, but, like I said, pretty sure. I had no plan of action, no schemes or strategies. I was just confident that since Sam was able to come here at all, a miracle in itself, more miracles were bound to ensue. Then we and the boys of 1D would become best friends and get up to all kinds of British mischief. I’m just saying, I didn’t think it was entirely out of the realm of possibility.

That could have been us.

That could have been us.

Reality: Turns out that this goal was safely nestled within the realm of impossibility. Honestly, having one of my best friends visit us was such a surreal experience that I never really felt the need to do anything particularly daring. I was so happy to just wake up and see Sam snoring away on the top bunk or to hear her cracking up to one of Julia’s “jokes” in the other room. I just wanted to spend time with her, and it didn’t matter that we weren’t living it up with famous British pop stars. It was paradise just sitting around, having a movie marathon and pigging out on anything that had a dangerous amount of carbs in it. Twist: When Sam was leaving for the States, she was at the airport the same time as two of the members of One Direction. She didn’t find out until the next day. Oh, the bitter taste of irony.

3. Showing off: Because we had been here for two and a half months, Julia and I considered ourselves to be posh Cambridge experts. We were planning on showing her all the sights of our beloved town: the colleges, the parks, a bunch of really old stuff, a haunted pub here and there. We would be her tour guides, pointing at old buildings and rattling off the half-remembered facts that a tour guide gave us our second day here. She would gasp and be in awe of our vast knowledge (or at least appreciate our abilities to completely make up a believable history of the town), and be quite envious of the convincing British accents we would undoubtedly be putting on for the entirety of the tour. In addition, we would introduce her to all of our British friends, impressing her with our ability to successfully charm the haughty natives.

At the Botanical Gardens

At the Botanical Gardens

Reality: Our idea of the best of Cambridge turned out to include only two things: the Crepe Cart and the Botanical Gardens. No regrets on the Crepe Cart. That place is happiness on wheels. Regarding the Gardens: let’s just say that Sam took around 500 pictures during her time here, and 250 of them were dedicated to our trip there. Being a biology major, Sam is instantly interested by all things leafy. Most of our time in the Botanical Gardens was spent sitting on a bench and watching Sam run around in front of us raving about some rare tree bark or a species of bird that she had to know about for a test. Although Sam did meet our British friends, we all much preferred to spend our time gossiping about them instead of actually socializing with them.

Sam fit right into our house dynamic, and I wish we could have somehow made her stay for the rest of the semester (I tried to tempt her with stories of magical trees only found in Cambridge, but she didn’t go for it). However, in three weeks we will be back home, and I’ll get to see her and all my friends and family again. Thinking about it now, I realize that I need to take advantage of the time I have left, meaning making a lot more stops at the Crepe Cart before I leave.

 

Danielle

PS: Shout out to Brooke, Julia’s best friend, who graced us with her presence for a few magical days as well before heading off to Scotland! Tune in next time for my next blog, in which we join up with Brooke in Edinburgh!

The Old Capital

So this semester has been a little different for me. First off, I came back from Germany and almost immediately had a house full of new people from Valpo who I didn’t really know very well. That was a bit of a shock, because those of us from the previous semester may have started out the same way, but we became very close in the four months we had together. Second, I wasn’t technically a part of the Cambridge Program anymore, despite the fact that I live in the house. I’ve been going to Anglia Ruskin full time this semester, which is pretty fun and interesting, but kind of makes me feel a tad left out of house activities. This did, however, mean that I had a full month after the house was filled before I had to go back to school (Anglia Ruskin’s classes didn’t start until February). Third, my cousin came over to England to study in Winchester, a city southwest of London and the Anglo-Saxon capital of England. So, naturally, I decided that visiting her was the best course of action.

Winchester Cathedral

Winchester Cathedral

Because I had basically nothing to do, I showed up at the train station in Winchester at a time that worked for Cora (that’s my cousin). She greeted me with Starbucks, which I appreciated, because I had gotten up pretty early to make my trains. We spent that first day wandering around the cemetery that separated her campus from the town and the area around the big cathedral in town.  We did a ton of exploring that first day, walking up to a lookout point that boasted a gorgeous view over the whole city–it wasn’t lying. We headed back down the hill after climbing a few trees and seriously contemplating rolling down the grassy slopes. To be honest, the only thing that stopped us was the fact that it had rained earlier and the ground was a bit muddy. We wandered around town a bit more, and found the old town walls from Anglo-Saxon days. There was an overflowing river and a ton of mud, as well as fun bridges and supposedly a castle, although we didn’t see it at that point. We continued wandering until we came upon what looked like a hiking trail up something called St. Catherine’s Hill. So, naturally, we decided to go up it.

Didn’t really matter to us that the sky was getting progressively darker withDSC05616 rainclouds, or that the wind was picking up a bit. Or that climbing a decently steep hill would be kind of difficult given the mud content of the area. Nope, we wandered right up the hill anyway. And it was pretty fun, we ran into a few cows and a couple other people who were playing with their kids in this copse of trees at the top of the hill. The rain, however, did get to be too much eventually. I didn’t let that stop me from trying to pet a cow that appeared to be sleepy, although the part where it stood up and glared at me was scarier than I’d anticipated. Cora laughed at me for a solid five minutes and swore up and down she wished she’d caught it on camera. We did realize, however, that we’d been walking around for a very long time and headed back to her dorm. I even got to meet a few of her new British friends.

jane austenThe next day was much sunnier than the previous one  had been. We started out by exploring the University of Winchester campus, which is pretty modern looking. Surprised me a bit, because it is one of the oldest cities in England. Also one of the hilliest, which led to a lot of stair climbing, something I’m not used to as a resident of Cambridge. We then wandered downtown to see the Great Hall, which is where King Arthur’s Round Table is displayed. Unfortunately for us, it was closed for restoration work when I came this time (which just meant that I showed up a month later and saw it then!). We then headed back toward the Cathedral, because it’s where Jane Austen is buried. With the both of us being avid Austen fans, this was definitely a must-see. Even better, the Cathedral was free to get into that day, because it was a Sunday. It took us quite a while to find the grave marker, but when we did, I’m pretty sure we spend a good 20 minutes freaking out over it. It was certainly a powerful moment. The only sad thing about the Cathedral is that we were unable to go into the crypt due to flooding.

After our celebrity encounter at the Cathedral, we wandered around the town ofcemetery Winchester for a while again. I got to see the big statue of King Alfred, the last important Anglo-Saxon king who made his capital at Winchester. We also meandered back through the cemetery, and because it was such a nice day, we spend a good hour or so sitting at the top of the cemetery, just looking out over the town. It turns out chilling in the cemetery is not such a strange thing to do, because there were a few people doing the same thing. There was even one guy playing frisbee with his dog between the gravestones. We got some food at the cafeteria and watched a movie, then crashed because walking all over town can exhaust a pair of 20 year old girls.

wadingThe next day we did even more exploring, heading off in the opposite direction this time. We found another park on the other side of town, one that led to some great hiking trails. Unfortunately for us, most of these trails were flooded from the excessive rainfall of the winter. Even more unfortunately for our shoes, the two of us didn’t care much about the flooding. We decided to go ahead and walk through the puddles… which kind of turned into glorified wading by the end of the walk. The area was gorgeous, though, and so was the day, so we didn’t mind too much, despite the fact that it was January. We ate our makeshift lunch of nutella and croissants while sitting on a bench waiting for our shoes and socks to dry, before heading back to town. On our way back, though, Cora misjudged thechurch distance between herself and a pair of swans and was almost eaten by one of them–a funny story that is much better in person than online. After that, we explored this new side of town that neither of us had really been to yet, and discovered a much more modern side to the old city. We ended up at the train station after a little bit, a place we definitely knew how to come back from. As we headed back to her dorm, the sun was setting and it cast these gorgeous shadows over the cemetery, and made for a pretty impressive backdrop to the church steeples of the town.

That was our last night in Winchester… this time. I did come back a month or so later to see the Round Table, which was admittedly really really cool. I’m really glad I got to see all of these great things in this ancient city, but I’m even happier to say I got to see them with my wonderful cousin. We’ve been partners in crime for a long time (…sometimes literally, whoops) and the fact that we got to be over here together was pretty much a dream come true. I wouldn’t trade her, or this experience, for anything.

With nostalgia, happiness, and much love,

Bryn

Paris: Surfing and Skimping

Whenever I travel with my family, my mom always insists that we get to the airport at least 3 hours before our flight. This almost always results in us sitting at our gate for two and a half hours. “It’s better that we wait now than get here late and miss our flight,” she always said (and always will say). When I travel on my own, I thought, I will never take such superfluous precautions. I will cater to my impatience and make sure I’ll only have to do the least amount of waiting possible.

I was wrong (cue Mom’s smug look).

As close as we got to the Arc de Triomphe

Julia and I had a flight out of Barcelona that left at 9:45 AM. We left the hostel at 5:45, and got through the empty security and to our gate before 7. We were one of a dozen people in the whole area. On the bright side, we were one of the first in line to get on the plane. Also, general advice: make sure that the airport you’re arriving in is actually located in your end destination. Case in point, while in line for the plane, we discovered that this Parisian airport we were going to wasn’t actually in Paris, but actually over an hour outside of the city. A bit loopy on the bus ride into Paris, Julia and I entertained ourselves by pretending to be French tour guides, pointing out popular sites like the Bridge de Croissant. And I wonder why the French don’t like Americans.

Eiffel Tower

After getting dropped off in the giant city, we hit two monuments that are perpetually littered with tourists: the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower. Since we are both extraordinarily cheap, we didn’t pay to go up close to the Arc or to go up the Eiffel Tower. Although both sites were incredible, the random lurking homeless guys were a bit off-putting, as were the countless old ladies that all seemed to have crafted the same sign exclaiming they had 17 children and 3 dogs and therefore obviously needed spare change.

Aurelien's flat

Eventually, Julia and I made our way to where we would be staying that night. We were using Couchsurfing for the first time, and we were honestly a bit worried about the whole ordeal. For those who don’t know, Couchsurfing is a website that promotes cultural exchange by acting as a hub for travelers and willing hosts. You create a profile (trying to be as thorough and likeable as possible, since this is what possible hosts look at before responding to your request), then Surf for hosts depending on the city you’re traveling to as well as the time and duration of your stay. You want to find hosts that have similar interests as you and, more importantly, have positive reviews from people who have hosted or been hosted by that person. When you find someone you think you want to stay with, you send them a request, telling them about yourself, your plans for your visit, and why you would like them to be your host. I wholeheartedly recommend this website for anyone who wants to meet people who are a part of their destination’s culture as well as anyone on a tight budget (the stay is completely FREE).

Hall of Mirrors in Palace of Versailles

Julia and I had two different hosts in Paris. Our first night was with a guy in his early twenties who lives in the south of Paris named Aurelien. We met up with him at the underground station a few minutes from his flat and then, after dropping our stuff off at his place, went to the grocery store to buy food for dinner. We cooked pasta and garlic bread together and had apples drizzled with chocolate for dessert. Aurelien was really kind and interesting; we had conversations about our travels, reggae music, and s’mores (he didn’t know what they were. We introduced him to pure magic that day). He had a futon that Julia and I shared, and he let us leave out stuff at his place the next day so we didn’t have to lug it around Paris all day.

The weather was less than pleasant

Our second day in Paris was admittedly miserable at the start. We got up around 8 and headed off to Versailles, which is only half an hour from Paris by train. But it was rainy. And cold. And very windy. And I didn’t have an umbrella. See where the situation gets tricky, here? I was able to buy an umbrella from one of the street vendors, though it broke within 30 minutes of purchasing it. The Palace of Versailles was gorgeous, ornate, and full of history. However, we were only able to go outside to see the famous gardens for five minutes before feeling that we were in serious danger of losing some appendages due to the cold weather. As soon as

Maeva and Julia in the dorm

we left Versailles, the sun came out (typical). We ventured to a place called the Anticafe, a cafe that charged you based on how long you stayed, in order to meet our Couchsurfing hosts for the remaining two nights. They were two roommates who lived in a building owned by their engineering university, and all their friends were on their floor. After grabbing our bags from Aurelien’s, we went to the girls’ dorm room (Virginie and Maeva) and spent a fun night with them and their friends. They had a student-run bar on the ground floor, so we were able to score a couple free drinks as well (seriously, Julia and I are all about the free things).

The Notre Dame

Our final day in Paris was spent hitting some of the sights close to our hosts’ dorm, like the Pantheon, the Notre Dame, and the Lovelock Bridge. The Notre Dame was amazingly beautiful and did I mention completely free? Julia had a lock that we were going to use to secure our bags at the Barcelona hostel, but we hadn’t needed it. So we wrote our names on it and the date and added it to the bridge. It was a pretty cool moment, adding our friendship to a bridge thousands of others had utilized—next to a grim Scottish guy complaining about the irony of having his picture taken alone on a bridge symbolizing everlasting love.

Our lock for the Lovelock Bridge

We had both grown quite hungry at this point, which is a dangerous situation, since we also both suffer from high irritability when our blood sugar is running low. Thankfully, a small sandwich shop saved our friendship (and, more importantly, saved the integrity of our lock). We had big toasty subs with a large chocolate crepe for dessert. It’s the only crepe I’ve had that compared to the those at the Cambridge Crepe cart.

Selfie with the Mona Lisa (don't judge)

After regrouping at the dorm for an hour or so, we headed off to the Louvre, since you get in free after 6 on Fridays. It was the perfect mix of interesting and fun. We were surrounded by thousands of art pieces crafted by some of the world’s most brilliant minds. Julia and I got to experience first hand what the Mona Lisa and Venus looked like; we learned a lot about foreign and ancient cultures through their art. However, that did not stop us from making fun of a few of the paintings’ subjects or adding stupid captions to some portraits or fist bumping the occasional statue. In the end, I was with one of my favorite people in the world at the most famous art museum in the world. How could it not

Fist bumping the statue

have been a blast? Three and a half hours later, we dragged our tired butts back to the dorm, where we cooked pasta and spent the night without our hosts, oddly enough (they had gone back home for the night).

Julia and I on the bus back home!

The next morning was very stressful because we had realized the night before that we had to print out our tickets for the bus ride home. The only problem was that no one had a printer, and our hosts weren’t there to help us. An incredibly nice friend of theirs offered to take us to his university that morning (a Saturday) to print out the tickets, but all the printers were jammed. Thankfully, the bus driver accepted the confirmation email on our phones as tickets and let us on.

It was a long bus ride back to London. At one point, our bus was put on a train that rode under the channel (and under the Chunnel). After a 6-7 hour bus ride, an Underground ride to King’s Cross, a train to Cambridge, and a 40 minute walk back home, we were more than ready to flop onto our beds and not move until Monday.

Until we remembered that 10 page art paper due Monday that we had neglected to start all break.

Dun. Dun. Dun.

These are the cliffhangers of my life, people. Exciting stuff.

 

Danielle

Barcelona: Gotta Strut Like You Mean It

We all know those people who go on some exotic excursion to, like, Texas or something and return as though every other experience of their lives (and your lives) should kowtow to this divine trip.

We all hate those people.

Over the past few weeks, it has taken a lot of self control for me not be one of those people.

We had our one week break recently, in which a group of us flew to Barcelona, and then Julia and I went up to Paris while the rest went to Madrid. Now, I didn’t pray with an ancient Guru or find my true love or really do anything too jaw dropping (or anything out of Eat, Pray, Love). But for the first time, I traveled to and navigated around a foreign country without adult supervision. I had to take on the responsibility of booking flights, reserving bus seats, planning an itinerary, researching hostels, etc. I had the freedom to choose what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it. Which turned out to be a blessing and a curse, since my characteristic laziness kept surfacing. But in the end, I grew up a bit and learned a lot about independence (and overspending on hot chocolate and churros).

Inside of RyanAir airplane

Our flight to Barcelona left on a Friday evening, and the ten of us had gotten through check-in and security with a lot of time to spare. It was only a 2 hour flight to Barcelona, and the blindingly yellow interior of the plane kept me conscious until we landed late that night. In broken Spanish, I asked for directions to our hostel, and we found it tucked in a quiet street. It was a nice, relaxing evening, except for the 13 year olds partying and making out in the lobby. That was admittedly very uncomfortable.

The next morning, I experienced a combination of things that are rarely found in England during the winter:

Sagrada Familia

sun, warmth, and no wind. It was only February, and I didn’t need anything more than a light jacket, if that. I got a tan, guys. Kind of a big deal for my rapidly paling skin. So, that day we took a bike tour, which turned out to be a fantastic idea. Our tour guide, Paula, was hilarious and laid back, and she took us to the big and

Arc de Triomf

beautiful staples of Barcelona, like the eccentric cathedral Sagrada Familia, the red Arc de Triomf, and the grassy park outside the city zoo. We wound up eating lunch at the beach, and it amazed me that two hours away from London via plane there was such a balmy paradise.

After the tour, we wandered around the city for awhile before heading back to the hostel to get ready for the Magic Fountain show that night. Unfortunately, I was pretty dehydrated, so I chugged a ton of water and subsequently became too nauseous to go see the amazing

Fountain outside of zoo

light and water show. Good decision making is not my forte, apparently. Thankfully, some of them came back after the show, and we all went out to an authentic Spanish dinner, where I insisted to the waiter that we order in Spanish. At first the waiter was less than excited by this, but when Julia attempted to order in English, our waiter was like, “Nonono, I do not speak English. I only hear the Spanish names of food.” To be fair, all Julia had to say was hamburguesa con queso. Like I said, authentic Spanish dinner.

Sunday and Monday, Julia and I embraced a Barcelona mentality called Mañana. Our bike tour guide described this as accepting that you don’t need to run around like a sweaty blur in order to accomplish everything quickly. You should move slowly and not care if you’re not busy every second of the day. Romanticized laziness, basically. So Paradise for me. While the rest of our group sped around finding breathtaking sights, Julia and I spent most of our Sunday lying down in the gorgeous park outside of the zoo, talking and watching

Park outside the zoo

Spanish families enjoy their weekend. When I was Skyping my dad the next week and telling him about my trip, he marveled at the fact Julia and I had over three hours of things left to talk about after being roommates for a year and friends for almost tw0. In reality, most of our time in that park was spent laughing uncontrollably and garbling through bad jokes between fits of giggles.

The entirety of Monday was spent at the beach. God must have given the sky a good scrubbing that day

Me being a goof on the beach

because it was spotless. I had a kilo of strawberries and bare feet, and it was sensational. The only flaw in our day was this guy who gave us pieces of coconut and told us to eat them, then asked us to pay four euro for each for them. In confusion Hannah and Kelly each gave him the full four euro, while Julia and I weren’t having it and gave him some change. This marked the beginning of my enthusiastic vendetta against coconut.

On Tuesday, everyone left for Madrid, leaving Julia and I to explore Barcelona on our own for an extra day. We went up to Park Güell, designed by the famous architect Antoni Gaudí. Since we were too cheap to pay to

Me being a goof on a hill in Park Guell

get inside, we roamed the free outer half of the park. Eventually we climbed to one of the higher parts (the park is set on an incline), and I saw a hill and thought, “We can definitely climb that.” I sort of forgot that I was wearing ballet flats and Julia was wearing sandals, not to mention that the path was unpaved and rocky. After about 10 minutes, she and I finally reached the top, and the view was breathtaking. We got a 360 view of Barcelona, from foothills to skyscrapers to the Mediterranean Sea. We stayed up there a long time, since no one else was around, and just took in Barcelona (as well as took embarrassing pictures). Barcelona, where no one ever seemed to be working yet everything was always open, a place that slowed my walk and lightened my heart. I was reluctant to go. But I remembered after dinner and gelato that night (we did not choose the coconut flavor) that we were headed to a city equally as beautiful the next day: Paris!

 

Danielle

PS: Yes, the title of this post is a reference to Cheetah Girls 2.

5 Reasons to Stay in Cambridge on the Weekend

Since we’re only here for a semester, a lot of us feel the need to take every opportunity to travel. Because none of us have classes on Friday, every weekend is a three-day one, so many people in the house go away every weekend. This could mean a series of day trips around the UK—Laura and Madalyn stumbled across a carnival last weekend on their spontaneous adventure!—or a trip to continental Europe that lasts from Friday to Sunday—a group went to Berlin a couple weekends ago and Edinburgh before that. Julia and I, on the other hand, have been staying home so far on the weekends. This is partly because we’re on a budget and partly because we didn’t want to activate our Britrail yet (Britrails allow you to travel via train anywhere in the UK for free for a period of two months). Although traveling every weekend obviously has its benefits, I have really enjoyed staying in Cambridge these past few weekends. And because I’m a mediocre writer and don’t like coming up with interesting transitions, I have just compiled into a list my top reasons why it can be great to spend a few weekends in the city where you’re studying abroad.

5. It doesn’t drain your money.I understand that everyone has different budgets and that some people can afford to go away every

Downtown Cambridge

weekend without batting an eye. Others, however, need to watch their money a bit more closely, and as glamorous as it sounds to pop into Belgium for the weekend, the cost can pile up, especially because the US dollar here isn’t very strong here. I am definitely not saying that you should never travel on the weekends. Because that’s one of the best reasons to study abroad in Europe: you’re just a 2 hour flight away from dozens of other countries, a luxury we don’t have in the States (that’s something you pick up here, constantly referring to the US as the States. England is so posh). But going away every weekend, especially toward the beginning of your stay, can be tricky. It’s easy to overestimate the amount of money you have, so accidentally overspending during your first month could mean a very tight budget in your last month.

4. You can actually relax. Although we only have classes until 11:45 every day, the afternoon can easily fill up with naps (because you stayed up too late the night before jamming to The Proclaimers with your roommate), grocery shopping, weekly papers due Monday (which no one does until Sunday, or Monday morning if you’re traveling), cleaning, planning your itinerary and booking hostels and activities for your next trip, and other random errands. And as fun and thrilling as traveling is, it is also stressful and exhausting. Sometimes using a Friday to recharge can be very healthy for your mental state. And by recharge, I mean sleep in, watch a movie while eating chocolate and pizza, and taking a walk, during which you may or may not buy more chocolate. Once again, this does not have to be every weekend or even every day of your weekend. But we all know that having a whole day to yourself is usually needed and welcomed with open, chocolate-bearing arms.

One of the many colleges in Cambridge

3. You can get to see your city. By staying home on some weekends, you can really get to know your temporary hometown. Getting to know the general layout of the city you live in sounds like knowledge you will naturally acquire just by living here. But if you don’t take classes at the local British university, all of the classes you take will be inside the house. I know there have been a few times here when I didn’t leave the house all day. If you don’t make an effort to explore your city, it will never become your city, but merely a city you eat and sleep in, and you will only know how to get to Aldi, Domino’s, and maybe a close-by pub. If family or friends visit you for a week, you will want to be able to show them the best parts of where you live. You will want to know where the crepe cart is or what the names of the colleges are or which shows are playing at the local theatre. Spend time in Cambridge or wherever you study abroad. Because don’t you want to be able to talk about it with some authority when you get back home?

2. You can experience your city. Now, this ties in closely with the last one. As the previous reason

Janet Devlin concert in Cambridge

explains, it is crucial to know your way around the city you live in. You want to be able to actually help a tourist when they ask you for directions (we all know that superior feeling we get when we can give directions with confidence). But there’s more to your city than simply knowing where everything is. There is plenty to do in Cambridge, and I’m sure there is just as much to do and see in the other study abroad destinations. Instead of knowing where the pubs are, discover which have the best atmosphere or the most reasonable prices. Figure out which clubs play the best music on which nights. Go to a museum or two and find your favorite exhibits and artists (and all British museums don’t cost a thing, so enjoy your learning free of charge). In Cambridge, there are the Botanical Gardens, which is a beautiful place to take a walk, write, or listen to music. Additionally, go to more than just places all tourists visit in your city. I’ve been to a pool and snooker bar, a Janet Devlin concert, a bowling alley, and to a protest (the last one was the result of a detour we took on the way to the bowling alley, but still). Experience your city. Fall in love with it so you can miss and remember it when you’re back home with your Netflix and peanut butter.

Playing pool

1. You can make friends. This one is the most important, in my opinion. Since most of us only have classes with each other (I’m the only person who takes a class at a British university), it can be challenging to meet people in Cambridge unless you stay home on some weekends. The group of people that I talked about in my last blog post are hilarious, interesting, and sweet, even when I ask strange questions and can’t properly navigate them through the city and back to the house (I didn’t realize there were so many streets cars aren’t allowed to drive on). They helped me understand what it’s truly like to live here as well as offered advice about true English norms and popular British recreational activities. We are so incredibly lucky to have met them. Like I wrote last time, we met them on a Friday night in a club, an experience we never would have had if we were traveling every weekend. Becoming friends with these guys has made me miss home a little less and has allowed me to truly take advantage of my time here at Cambridge.

 

I hope these reasons not only give comfort to those who know they can’t travel all the time as well as persuade those who can to stay home every now and then. That being said, I am currently writing this about 20 minutes before I have to leave for the airport. This next week is our one week break and we are flying to Barcelona! Julia and I are then going to Paris while others are headed to Madrid. Hopefully I will have some good stories to share when I get back!

 

Danielle

Bit by the British Love Bug

Just a quick clarification about the title of my last blog post. My mom, bless her aging heart, said the title “Tired of London, Tired of Life” sounded a touch depressing. It’s actually a paraphrase of a quote from Samuel Johnson: “When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.” It’s about the glamor of London, not my own personal exhaustion that I felt by the end of that weekend.

Moving on, Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody! I’m very sorry that I haven’t written anything for a little while (I know it’s been killing

Julia and I one night we went out to dinner, not really related to this post, but we're adorable.

you all inside). Honestly, it has just been a little quiet around here. But, in honor of it being, you know, the day of love and everything, I’m going to tell you a true story of budding love that has been going on here! And I’m going to do it without the explicit permission of the person who stars in it!

So, last Friday night, four of us went out to a club called Fez. In line for the club (or, as the British call it, “queuing up.” The Brits love queues.), we met some funny people, a couple of whom would probably fail the breathalyzer test, and we had some interesting/confusing/amusing conversation. But we separated from them when we got into the club (remember them, they’re important to the story). While waiting for our friend to get his drink from the bar, Angelina (name changed for obvious reasons) said to me, “Oh my gosh, Danielle, look at that guy over there, the tall, blonde one. I want to dance with him.” And because I was in a silly mood (translation: slightly tipsy), I pointed at him and went, “That guy?” He saw me, saw her, they locked eyes, bada bing, bada boom, ladies and gentlemen we have the first look.

The first time we went out to Fez

For awhile the four of us danced together, which was a ton of fun. We had gone to that club before, and the music had been really horrible. But Friday nights are Indie Rock nights, so we knew and could jam out to almost all of the songs. Then our guy friend left to go to the bathroom, leaving me, Angelina, and our awesome friend Hannah (name not changed because she’s awesome). All of a sudden, Angelina saw someone motioning her over and started dancing with Tall Blonde Guy (the dance). Hannah and I just kind of stared at her and then at each other. Then we saw Queue Guy (guy we met in line), who was with Tall Blonde Guy as well and some others, motioning us over, too. So we started dancing with them, which was pretty fun, especially Queue Guy because he kept booty bumping me into his friend who looked like the lead singer of Bastille (look them up and be prepared to fall in love).

For a variety of reasons, we ended up leaving relatively soon after. Angelina didn’t want to leave because she was having a very good time dancing with Tall Blonde Guy. But we dragged her away, not wanting to leave anyone behind, and she didn’t get the chance to get his number, this completing part three of any good love story: the abrupt departure. Angelina was pretty bummed about leaving, thinking she would probably never see this guy again, though she caught his name: Brad (name changed so that I could write Brangelina).

But Fate was not done with this story, no sirree. While Angelina was shopping in designer stores like Primark the next day, she ran into Queue Guy—aka Ash (I now realize that I am a horrible storyteller as now you will have to remember the actual names of these people halfway through the story). He gave Angelina Brad’s number, and she and Ash made plans to have his friends and her friends hang out a few days later. Angelina was so nervous that she could hardly eat anything for the three days between running into Ash and the night we all met up again. We even made Hannah reschedule her Skype date for this. Thankfully, she texted Brad, who was very sweet and said things like how could he forget her, and he was so glad she didn’t remain the mystery girl, and asked whether she would want to run off into the countryside to have little blonde babies (I may or may not have embellished/completely made up that last one).

On Tuesday night, Angelina, Hannah, me, and another friend went to this bar that had pool and snooker tables (snooker is a game I

Me playing pool very badly

don’t understand involving an over-sized pool table, lots of red balls, and humiliation). The four of us were hanging out when we saw Ash, Brad, and Simon (Bastille Guy) coming towards us. We all exchanged somewhat awkward greetings, since I don’t think there is any documented appropriate way to greet people who you’ve only danced with and never really talked to. This marked the fourth, perhaps lesser known, part of a typical love story: the anxiety-ridden and slightly uncomfortable reunion. We migrated from a machine that asked trivia questions to a snooker table to a pool table. Two more of Brad’s friends, both named Jason, arrived as well and we split into teams for pool. Brad was adorable, giving Angelina, his partner, a lot of help and advice when it was her turn. My partner also offered several gems of advice, such as “try and hit a stripe into the pocket.”

After a few embarrassingly bad games of pool, we finally left, still teasing each other for our weird pronunciations of words (It’s aluminum. You can’t just stick an extra syllable in there so it’s “aluminium”). Brangelina have been texting and flirting ever since. We all have plans to go out again; this time to go bowling. Another activity I am horrifyingly bad at. And they all lived happily ever after. Cue orchestral music, big fireworks that somehow spell out “The End” in cursive, aaaaaand end credits.

I’m incredibly happy that Angelina, who is notorious for losing interest very quickly, has found someone she likes. Admittedly, yes, there are a few snags in this little development, with the limited time we’re here and them living thousands of miles away and the fact I’m still not sure what his natural hair color is. But it’s Valentine’s Day, people. And today’s not a day to be cynical, but to cherish the people you love: family, old friends, crushes, boyfriends, sisters. Being an ocean away from most of my loved ones has truly made me realize their monumental importance in my life. So stick with love, because “life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead” (Oscar Wilde).

Danielle

A New Year

Getting to Germany was kind of a relief. Not because Portugal was bad or anything, but the ease of communication with people who can readily speak English is something I will not take for granted anymore. Of course, Marissa and I didn’t know how much of a relief it would be until we got there. It turns out Germany feels and looks quite a bit like Wisconsin, where we both

The river in Tubingen

grew up. We kept having strange deja-vu moments where we’d forget we weren’t actually in Wisconsin, actually. But, I digress. Hannah Heagy, a friend of ours who is another year-long person, met us at the airport and brought us back to Tubingen with her. Walking into her room made both of us a little jealous, because it’s much bigger than the rooms Marissa and I have in our respective cities. Much more conducive to hosting large sleepovers, which is basically what we did for a week. That night we pretty much crashed, because flying and making connecting flights and such is kind of exhausting.

The first day in Germany, Hannah showed us around Tubingen a bit. We walked down to the river and through the park on the island in the middle of it. We got doner kebabs from the corner shop, which were surprisingly good, and walked through the charming, winding streets of the German town. Hannah showed us all around the older part of the town, including a gorgeous church. Outside the church, there was a plaque to commemorate the discovery of DNA. I thought this was hilarious, because they tell us in Cambridge that DNA was discovered here. Turns out the molecule was discovered in Tubingen, but the double-helix structure was discovered in Cambridge. So, technically, it was both. There’s a fun fact for ya.

We also walked up the hill to the castle. (My time in Germany and Portugal reminded me that not everywhere in the world is as blessedly flat as Cambridge is. My legs protested. Loudly.) I probably will never get over being able to just like, walk up to these amazing structures that were built centuries ago. It was just up the hill. And apparently the University of Tubingen uses the rooms for classes and dorm space, so people even get to LIVE in the castle, which, not fair. Basically, seeing Tubingen was lovely and it felt a bit like coming home, because the atmosphere was just so homey. That night, Hannah’s mom and brothers (who had visited her for Christmas, lucky girl) took us out to dinner at a nice restaurant where I had extremely satisfactory soup and chips.

The University Library

The next day, we decided to be productive little college students. Hannah and I both had papers to work on, so we headed over to the library of the university. Along the way, Hannah pointed out a bunch of the university buildings, which were surprisingly modern. I guess at this point I expect everything in Europe to be old, but that’s not always the case. So, we were somewhat responsible on that particular day, and after the library we went to the grocery store to stock up on food for the week. We ended up having a fabulous dinner and wine while watching Frozen together. We didn’t know it at the time, but movie nights turned out to be a thing we did almost every night.

The day after that was Sunday, but Marissa and I slept through church… we slept pretty solidly until about 10:30, which had become pretty weird to me since being over here. But we grabbed the free day to take a hike up in the hills. The forests around Tubingen are lovely, and it was just cold enough to give the air a little bit of bite, and there was even frost on the grass where the sun was blocked by the hills (keep in mind that I’m a Wisconsin girl who hasn’t seen snow yet this winter… I’m going through withdrawal). We hiked through the woods to an old monastery in the hills, which was surprisingly large and surrounded by a cute little village. You’d think I’d get desensitized to gorgeous old buildings and massive stone churches with intricate stained glass windows, but it hasn’t happened yet. Walking those halls, and around those walls, is just an amazing experience every time. Being able to walk up the stairs and duck through tiny stone doorways, being able to look off of rough balconies and step over uneven cobblestone–it just doesn’t get old.

New Year’s Eve was a pretty fabulous day. We got a bunch of food and dressed up and had a fancy-ish dinner with a bunch of Hannah’s friends from the University. After dinner, we walked up to a meadow on the side of a hill where we’d been told a lot of the kids from the city gathered. We got up there, and the view was instantly amazing. We could see at least half of Tubingen laid out before us, all lit up with New Year’s revelry. It took us a little bit to find a spot that our big group could fit, and get settled in, but by the time we did there were already a few fireworks going off. Apparently, fireworks are only allowed in Germany for the four days around New Year’s, so people kind of go all out. I could barely see because of all the sulfur, or hear due to fireworks exploding all around me, by the time we got to the actual countdown part. But we did count down from sixty together, as a group of crazy Americans, and screamed ‘HAPPY NEW YEAR’ and shot off champagne as the clock struck twelve. Of course, that was also the moment where the entire city, our hillside included, basically exploded with the amount of fireworks that went off. It was nuts; it was amazing; it was one of the most incredible nights of my life. We lit sparklers and sang Auld Lang Syne and screamed when wayward fireworks exploded too close to our feet. You could say we started off the New Year with a bang.

On New Year’s Day, Hannah, Marissa, and I took the train into

The castle in the plaza

Stuttgart to visit the Art Gallery, because it was free for people 20 and under on New Year’s. This was pretty cool, even though I think we might have gone through it backwards. We started with the modern stuff, and ended up with Renaissance art. It turns out that we got there too late to get through everything though, because there was still a whole section of the museum we had to leave unexplored by closing time. Fortunately, Stuttgart was still lively and bright, despite the darkness that had already fallen. There was even a skating rink in the town square, along with the gorgeous fountains and castle. So we wandered through the people, and the big shopping district street, and eventually ended up back at the train station, and headed back to Tubingen.

My final full day in Germany consisted of a trip to the second most visited castle in Germany–Hohenzollern Castle on the edge of the Black Forest (The first most visited is, of course, Neuschwanstein). This trip involved train, then bus, than a nice steep hike up to the castle itself. Unfortunately, it was ridiculously windy at the top of this mountain, so we didn’t get to eat our well-planned lunch of nutella and croissants outside like we wanted to. But the beauty of the castle made up for it. Walking up the winding ‘driveway’ was an experience in itself. To get inside the rooms, you had to have a tour, so we ended up slipping and sliding on the polished floors with the ridiculously large slipper things they gave us to cover our shoes as we walked through. The coolest part of the tour was definitely the treasury, where we got to see the crown of the Prussian royal family, original scores by Mozart, and an amazingly embroidered dress that once belonged to Queen Louise.

The next day, Hannah and Marissa put me on a bus, and I headed to the airport to fly back to England. My holiday adventure was interesting and incredibly fun, but I won’t deny that I breathed a sigh of relief upon arrival in Cambridge. As much as I love seeing the rest of Europe, Cambridge is the place I clicked with the fastest, and it’s become my home over here. It was a massive relief to be back in this familiar space.

With a bit of tiredness, nostalgia, and love,

Bryn

Christmas in Portugal

Okay, so I’m having a hard time starting this one. I spent a week in Portugal, so summing my experience up in one blog post is gonna be a little difficult without giving you guys more of a novel than I usually do. Okay, so first things first–background on why I went to Portugal in the first place. When my mom was in college, her family hosted an AFS student from Portugal named Adriano. Our family has kept in touch with him since then, and he’s been to the States quite a few times. I was thrilled to be coming to Europe for the year, because I thought it would be a chance to finally visit him for a change. However, he and his family moved out to California last August. He still wanted me to be able to see Portugal, though, so he set up a week with a family friend and his mother showing me around Lisbon and Cascais. My friend Marissa, also studying for a year over here (in Spain though, not England), decided to join us because we wanted to have friendly faces around us for the holiday season, since we couldn’t afford to go home. So, on December 19th, I flew to Portugal. This was a bit nerve wracking, because I didn’t know who was picking me up at the airport. Once I got there, however, I met Luis, a friend of Adriano’s. He drove me back to his place in Cascais, where I met his wife Helena and their two daughters, Rita and Teresa. These guys would become our very good friends over the course of the week. The next morning, we drove to the bus station to pick up Marissa, and our adventure was fully underway.

That first day, we did a lot of exploring the Expo area of Lisbon, where Adriano’s mother owns a restaurant. There are a bunch of pathways, gardens, museums, and even an aquarium in this area of town. So Marissa and I walked around for a bit, ate at the restaurant, and finally met Celeste, Adriano’s mother. She was a truly incredible woman, if a bit intimidating at first. We were lucky Marissa speaks Spanish, because Celeste didn’t speak English at all and we communicated in a hodge-podge of Spanish, Portuguese, and hand gestures. We slept at Celeste’s apartment that night and had the next day to ourselves in Lisbon.

We didn’t do too much exploring that day, because we were both pretty tired still from travelling and exploring the day before. We did, however, go to see the Castelo de Sao Jorge, which was absolutely gorgeous. We like to think that our laziness contributed to the awesomeness of our experience, because seeing the castle at sunset was absolutely gorgeous. The bridge at the mouth of the river looks kinda like the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, and there is a giant Jesus statue on the other side of the river like the one in Brazil. All of this we could see clearly from the old parapets, made of rough, cream-colored stone and glowing in the orange of the sunset.  Marissa and I had a blast running around the castle until it closed and we had to make our way to the subway to get over to Expo.

We had to go back to Expo because we had been invited to a Christmas dinner with Celeste’s family. This was a pretty amazing experience, not the least because I forced myself to try and finish almost all the food I was given (those of you who know me well know how amazing that feat was, and imagine I’m taking a bow). Luckily, we were seated among some of the young adults, most of whom spoke English. That being said, many speeches were made in Portuguese that we didn’t understand, and gifts were given out to everyone, including us! We were definitely not expecting that, and tried to thank everyone the best we could (‘Thank you’ was a phrase we learned in Portuguese pretty early).  Despite everything, dinner was still a little awkward until one of the kids brought over his iPad and we played a game involving matching logos to their brand names. Everyone got in on this game, and there was so much hilarity and fun that we didn’t even notice when Helena and Luis showed up to take us back to Cascais.

The next day, Luis, Helena, and Teresa took us to Sintra.

Cabo de Roca

Along the gorgeous coastal drive, we stopped at Cabo de Roca, the westernmost point of continental Europe. This was pretty cool, because it’s the closest I’ve been to America since I left in August. Not very close at all, really, but knowing that home was just across the waters I was staring at was kind of amazing. There was a kind of park area around it too, lots of grass and hills and paths along the coast. Of course, it was very high up as well, and the cliffs were incredible to see. We wandered up and down the coast for a bit, just to see as much of the shoreline as we could. Helena was snapping pictures like crazy the whole time, of the landscape and Teresa and Luis and Marissa and I. We kept telling her that our parents would be so happy because we keep taking pictures of what we see instead of us. Now we have plenty of pictures of us doing all these things, parents, so don’t worry! After walking around the point for a bit, and airing ourselves out (it was very windy), we got back into the car and drove the rest of the way to Sintra. Sintra was really interesting to see, especially with Luis as our guide. He grew up there, and so he knew the paths to the castles like the back of his hand. There are six castles in Sintra, by the way, but we only got to see three.

The first castle.

The first was in the center of Sintra, and involved some of the most beautiful tile work I’ve ever seen. I kept having strange flashbacks, because I’m nearly 100% positive that my grandmother has replicas of some of that tile work in  her house. The first palace also had these incredibly tall chimneys, stark white and enormous, that erupted from the kitchen. We could see them driving in to Sintra, and we saw them later from the Moorish castle.  After a tour of the palace, we got roasted chestnuts from a street vendor. And let me tell you, those chestnuts are one of my new favorite things, which is actually really bad because I haven’t seen them anywhere since Portugal. These roasted chestnuts were actually amazing, especially with the kosher salt that was put on top and the warmth and… basically it was delicious. We also went to have coffee in a famous shop called La Piriquita. The coffee was wonderful, and we ate some traditional Portuguese pastries (we ate a lot of Portuguese pastries on this trip).

Then we climbed the hill to the Moorish castle. The hike up from the parking lot was lovely, and the castle was even better. It was very old, dating back to when the Moors conquered Portugal, and the sturdy stone walls and tall parapets illustrated the warlike nature of that period very well. climbing up the parapets and walking the defensive walls was incredible, and we got amazing views of Sintra below us and the ocean just beyond. Plus, clambering around old castles, rocks mossy with age and walls haphazardly tumbling down, is just plain fun. I’m pretty sure I had a permanent smile on my face the entire day.

The last palace we visited was called the Palaisa de Pena, which was ironic because Luis’s last name is also Pena. Much of our visit to this colorful palace involved us cracking jokes about how Luis was finally coming home, and how everyone here knew him, and that was his bedroom and this was his personal balcony. The palace was incredible though, all jokes aside. Inside they had the first telephone in Portugal, as well as an early shower-like contraption. Walking around these castles was one of the most surreal experiences I’ve had thus far in Europe, and it was truly amazing to have people like Luis, Helena, and Teresa showing us around. After the palace, Luis and Helena took us out to eat at one of their favorite seafood places. I, being me, was rather nervous for this because I am a notoriously picky eater, and I didn’t want to offend anyone. But to everyone’s surprise, the clams, crab, and fish we shared was really fantastic. I ate my fair share of everything (I’m not lying, Mom, people took pictures to prove it!). It’s safe to say I was pretty proud of myself after that.

The next day, Helena, Rita, and Teresa showed Marissa and I around Cascais and Lisbon. We strolled through Cascais at a leisurely pace, taking in the beaches and the houses and the tiled paths and streets. Helena was fabulous about giving us maps of every place we went so that I could tape them into my journal when I got home. We also got to eat ice cream at Santini’s, a famous ice cream parlor in Cascais. We stopped for more roasted chestnuts too, because by this time everyone knew I loved them. Then, Helena drove us into Lisbon. We were going to visit the monastery where Vasco de Gama is buried, but unfortunately it’s closed on Mondays. So instead we walked around a bit, saw the Monument to Discovery along the shore of the river and had coffee and some more pastries at a well-known cafe near the monastery. After that, Helena showed us around a twisty, cozy area of Lisbon called Alfama, and we had lunch at a cute restaurant deep in Alfama. It was, unfortunately again, raining for most of this, but we drove down to the main plaza and got a few pictures in anyway. After that, we went back to Cascais and had dinner, which was delicious, and spent our last night at the Pena’s. Marissa and I really didn’t want to say goodbye to them, because they really were a great family to stay with.

The next day was Christmas Eve, and we headed back to Celeste’s for the last three days of our stay in Portugal. We were shocked by the generous amount of food that greeted us when we walked into Celeste’s dining room that night. It was a full-on Christmas feast, and there were only three of us to eat it. Each and every thing we tried was delicious, but I’m a pretty light eater. Marissa managed to make a pretty good dent though. We just hope we didn’t offend Celeste by eating modest portions of everything. On the bright side, we managed to finish most of the food over the two days of our stay at Celeste’s. Christmas Eve was strange for the two of us, being away from our families. We both stated, multiple times, that it definitely didn’t feel like Christmas. The next day, we skyped with our families as much as we could, and Celeste took us out for Mexican food at lunch and fabulous Chinese food for dinner. It was a quiet Christmas day, but for my first away from my family, I think it was a good one. The day before we left was bittersweet, because we were really excited to go to Germany next, but Portugal had been amazing. We took a last walk around Alfama, and Expo, and packed our things. We had Celeste drive us to the airport around midnight, because our flight was really early the next morning and we didn’t want to wake her up early.

Portugal was amazing. It was not at all like I expected, but it was incredible for that. I’m so happy I got to go, and that I got to go with a great friend like Marissa.

With gratefulness, a smile, and much love,

Bryn

Friendly Faces

After everybody left me to go back to America, I had a trip booked to go see my friend Kate. Her husband had recently been stationed in the Netherlands, and they had moved out there about two months after I’d gotten here. I was desperately in need of friendly faces, and I think she might have been too. So I headed out to Brunssum to stay with Kate and Chris for the weekend (I unfortunately needed to be back by Monday, because my classes at Anglia Ruskin weren’t done yet). Luckily, my friends are the actual best, and picked me up at the airport. This is a luxury you don’t really appreciate until you travel a bunch of places without anybody waiting for you on the other end, and let me tell you, I seriously appreciated this. Even being in a car is somewhat novel to me at this point, because I’m so used to walking or trains or planes or buses. We stopped at a Christmas market before heading over to their house. This particular Christmas market was pretty cool because it was being held on base, and each country represented on the base was given a stall to make traditional Christmas dishes from their country. America had pie and apple cider, and I heartily approved.

yummm!The next day, I took full advantage of the fact that Kate has access to American foodstuffs by chowing down on some Eggo waffles and real bacon. We lazed around for a bit, because we’re mature 20 year olds who love not being told to do things. We did, eventually, decide to leave the house, after watching The Wolverine and talking to our mutual friends back in the States. We went for a walk around downtown Brunssum, called the ‘centrum’ there, kind of like downtown Cambridge is called the ‘city centre.’ We window shopped, laughed at how warm it was in December, and generally had a lot of fun being two American high school friends in Europe together. We walked up and down the main street, explored little stores that were kind of hidden away, and found a park to walk around. The park was actually pretty gorgeous, there was a lovely calm pond right in the middle and the day was so clear, it looked like glass. It was nice and sunny, and there were these weird duck-type things, and a little island we momentarily considered wading to. We, thankfully, thought better of that and just went back to her house instead.

Chandelier and ceiling of the hall. In the castle.

That night, we went to a military ball. In a castle. I know, it was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. Kate and Chris had pulled a few strings and wrangled me an invite, so I got to steal an old prom dress of Kate’s and have a bunch of fun doing my hair and make up and dressing up with her. It felt kinda like the old days of getting ready for dances in high school. Except our final destination was a castle, with a real life moat and courtyard and stone walls. We got our picture taken by the photographer as we walked in, and got to mingle with important looking people in military dress and fancy dresses while drinking flutes of white wine and champagne (well, Chris and I did. Kate’s not allowed). I met a few of Chris’s work friends and their significant others, and had the joy of explaining to everybody that I was just Kate’s tag-along friend, there for the fun. I did have a lot of fun though, and the food was fabulous. There was music and laughter and happiness, and I had a really great time.

The day after that was Amsterdam Day. We took a three hour train ride (that got kind of complicated because of train repair work going on outside of Ustrecht) to get to Amsterdam. We wandered through the streets, in awe of the canals and the buildings. We walked past the Anne Frank House, although we didn’t go in because the line was down-the-block long and Kate had to get to the Apple Store to get a new charger. I even went into a coffeeshop, just to see what it was like. I can’t impress upon you all the amazing beauty of this city. I guess I was even luckier than I knew, because the weather was fabulous and all the pictures I snapped turned out wonderfully. The canals in the middle of the streets were so strange and whimsical to me, but the nonchalance with which they were treated by the locals made them seem perfectly in place. Despite the lack of oddity that caused, I couldn’t help but be fascinated by the fairy-tale atmosphere that came from the cognitive dissonance. I wasn’t expecting these canals to be everywhere, and I certainly wasn’t expecting them to be absolutely gorgeous in such an urban setting, but they were and it kept taking me by surprise.

 

Getting back was a bit of an adventure, because it was much darker out and I was relying completely on Kate and Chris because I didn’t have a map or internet or anything. Also, I was so exhausted I fell asleep on the bus between train stations (the repairs weren’t done yet). But we did make it back eventually, and I can say with conviction that I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The next day was Sunday, and we had a nice leisurely breakfast before they took me back to the airport. This was honestly one of my favorite trips, because I got to be in a home again, with one of my absolute best friends of all time. There was an element of comfort that I wasn’t expecting, a sense of belonging that I hadn’t realized was missing. So basically, Kate and Chris, you guys are the actual best and I love you so much.

 

With happiness, contentment, and much love,

Bryn

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).

Me Posing Like a Tourist!

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

Cathedral Layout

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

View of London

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.

Big Ben

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

Julia and I in front of The Mousetrap sign

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.

The London Underground!

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

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