Post 2 from England

Second Day in London

After I posted that last entry, everything basically went downhill. When I'm tired, I have a very fine line between still being able to function and hold myself together, and breaking down completely, and instantly transforming onto a 3 year old who missed her nap. We all fell into bed, and not even the screaming police sirens bothered me for the next 10 hours.

Britain doesn't have have rooms designed for 4 people to be in, so our room is a queen bed, a couch thing made into a bed, and something that feels like a set of box springs covered with a sheet on the floor. To my sadness, I found out last night that particular bed is much more comfortable after I'd been awake for 38 hours. Since Aimee happened to pick the more comfortable bed, we decided that I get dibs in Canterbury when we move there on Sunday.

We started out early yesterday morning to make our way through the tube station to get to Westminster pier where we were meeting our boat to Greenwich. The subway is wonderful, and crazy. I've never really had much experience with it so I was really unsure of myself at first, but now that I've acclimated my self, I love using it.

Once we finally got the whole group to the pier (which took awhile as most people were late coming down to meet in the hotel lobby, which drives me bonkers), we boarded the boat (after waiting for the next one, since we missed the first one, sans the late people) and headed down the Thames.

My first amusing experience took place in that boat.

I can now officially say I was hit on in London.

It actually was a pretty funny story, but the kind that, once it's written down, loses all element of humor. All I can say is that he was our tour guide/captain, and quite bold and persistent. Quite amusing.

We spent the rest of the morning and afternoon at Greenwich; we wandered around the Royal Navy College. The only parts that were open to the public were the chapel and the “Painted Hall” which was a dining hall where every surface was frescoed. After that, we climbed (literally) up a very tall hill to the Royal Observatory, and the place where the prime meridian is marked. It was cool, but not necessarily worth the amount of people there. Around 3 we headed back to the pier to wait for the boat. Turns out that we ended up back on the same boat with the dude who hit on me, which I thought to be a weirdly ironic. He didn't say anything else to me, which was smart of him.

Once we got back to the dock, we decided to go see a show. I really wanted to see Wicked, but as it's still the world's #1 selling show, I was pretty stupid to think we night be able to get day-of tickets. We ended up seeing Oliver!, the sets and lighting were spectacular, although the voices were a little weak. Except the kid playing the Artful Dodger. He was awesome.

Day 4 of London

I ventured out on my own today, proving to myself that I'm a very big girl. I've never been in a big city, and they frighten me a little. But I was fine, no one picked my pocket or tried to catch me, so everything was lovely, and I felt very proud of myself.

This morning, Aimee, Bekah Baird and I had our token traditional English breakfast, while mom and dad left early to scope out the British Library. Mom came hurrying back to the room saying that the library was really, really cool, and we should all come.

It was amazing.

I saw original, handwritten manuscripts by Mozart, Beethoven, Hayden, Elgar, Purcell, and Jane Austin's Persuasion. And the Magna Carta. And the Codis Sinacticus.I wanted to cry. It was unbelievable.

Dad was in absolute heaven; he actually got a library card, and he spent the rest of the day there, looking at and studying original copies of the Tyndale and Erasmus bibles that he never thought he'd ever be able to even see, let alone handle and study. It made my heart ridiculously happy.

While we were there, I decided that I wanted to go to the Tower of London after all, so we (minus dad, obviously) jumped back on the tube, with really no idea where we were going. We were told to get off the tube at London Bridge stop, but that ended up being quite a ways from the Tower, so we finally found the Thames, and just started walking down in until we ended up where we wanted to be. Turns out the lines were so ridiculously long, we didn't go. So much for that. It was an adventure anyway.

We're leaving London tomorrow for Canterbury, and I'm really looking forward to having some quiet time on the bus to really write about these last few days. Now in our room there's either the TV on (we're watching Flipper at the moment; British TV sucks), or Aimee and Bekah playing rowdy games of cards, or other noisy things, and I can't concentrate. Ah well, tomorrow...

Day 5, leaving London for Canterbury

Right now, I am extremely annoyed. The only place I can get free wireless is here at the British Library, and for some reason, it's “having difficulties” today. Crap, and double crap.

I'm so glad we're leaving London today. I don't like huge cities, and deafening crowds, and dirty, cramped places. Being in Canterbury will be like a breath of fresh air before the crowd and confusion of Italy.

Being on the tube is a completely surreal experience, especially like last night, when it's 11 o'clock on a Saturday night. Everything glows kind of strangely in the lights, and the sound is both muffled and amplified at the same time in the tile-domed tunnels. There are musicians in random intersections down there, and the sounds carry for unbelievable distances through the maze of tunnels. One thing I will say for the tube though, is that it's incredibly well-marked. Basically, as long as you know the name of the place you're going, and the place you want to get back to, it's no problem finding your way around. The streets are a different story, however, with hardly any marking whatsoever. Ridiculous.

We tried to go to a concert at St. Martin In The Fields last night, but by the time we actually got the people that decided to come with us together, and finally found the place, there were no more tickets left. It took about an hour for all that, then took another hour or more for 7 people to decide where to eat, then another hour to get our food and eat. And then about 45 minutes to get home. It was epic.

I'm getting incredibly good at offensive walking. Basically, you keep one hand on your bag, the other free to ward off any objects in your way, your head down, and your eyes open, and forge ahead. Come what may, you keeping walking, bobbing and weaving between people, passing the ones too slow for you, and dodging the ones that want to run you over.

Crossing streets is an adventure too. Traffic barely ever stops; cars and taxis, and bikes, and bike-taxis, and double-decker buses, and extra-long buses, and mopeds all go as fast as they can from light to light. I had a guy in a bike-taxi almost run me over just for the fun of it. He looked back and laughed at me as he raced up the street. Jerk.

I had a very fun time while walking here to the library, standing pretty close to the edge of a crosswalk and feeling the force of the displaced air push me back as a double-decker bus sped by. I'm not as dumb as the guy doing that with the subway though...

There's no such thing as personal space here. I find it very disconcerting. I was sitting on one of the rare benches in the Euston subway station (which has become our hub-station) and a lady and her son came and stood next to me, trying to dig change out of their pockets for the restrooms (another thing I find disconcerting, having to pay for a place to pee), and her back, coat, and bag were literally 3 inches from my face. It was weird.

It made me think about the strange, understood barriers we have at home. There is a very distinct personal space/distanc when you're with a group or person, or when you're not with a group or person, just happening to be standing next to them. That does not exist here. It's a pushy, noisy, free-for-all, not-even-occurring-to-me-that-I'm-all-up-in-your-business kind of place.

But even with all that, it's interesting. I'm not used to hearing a different language for every person I pass. And other thing, I've started thinking in a British accent, and it's driving me insane. My brain has started filtering through all the sounds around me, trying to find the people with American accents, just so I can hear something familiar.

I'm not crying-myself-to-sleep homesick yet, but I am definitely missing home...

Bus to Canterbury

I must say, I”m already tired of all these people that we're traveling with. This is very sad, as I've hardly spent any time with them, and half of them aren't here yet. It's probably just because I don't really know any of them well, and they all know each other well. That's fine with me. I'm not a huge social butterfly. I like having the small group of people that I really care about, and being able to give all my social time and attention to them, and not worry about splitting it over a vast group of people. I guess that's one way I've changed. It used to bug me, not having tons of friends, but now I enjoy it, and deeply value and love the ones I have.

I'm feeling tired and uninspired. I think I'll go back to reading for awhile.

Post “awhile” reading

I wish we had the beautiful, wooded hills here. They're so verdant and lush, with fields tucked around little farms, and pastures for horses, and little gardens right by the highway; it's so English. It gives my soul the same stillness and rest that the rivers do at home. But...I miss the expanses of waving marsh grass, and seeing the sun set over the water. I miss home.

Canterbury, England

I feel almost like I'm home. As impossible as is seems, when were getting off the bus, and I looked over my shoulder to see the vastness of the cathedral rising over the rooftops of the town, I shivered with excitement for the first time. This is so much better than London. London was big and bewildering, Canterbury is familiar and beautiful. I love this town, with it's random pieces of ancient walls sticking up up out of the ground in random places. It makes me feel restful to know these stones have been here for over a thousand years, that storms, people, not even wars have managed to obliterate it entirely.

I could not be more pleased with my room here. We are staying in the King's College School dorms, although from the outside they look more like quaint little lodges...very English. I have my own room, which I'm praising God for. Overall, my family is incredibly easy to live with, but after 4 days in one hotel room, I was ready for my own space. I have a tiny little dorm room, just big enough for my bed, a desk, a standing closet, 2 little sets of drawers, and (best of all) my own sink and mirror. In my room! Unbelievable riches. I even have the “toilet” around the corner and the “shower” across the hall.

That's another funny thing. Running along every floor of the building are doors marked “shower” with a shower and a sink, “toilet” with a sink and toilet, and “bathroom” with a sink, shower, and toilet. I think that's incredibly smart in a dorm. Maybe all dorms are like that. I don't know.

I have a little window that folds out about 4 inches that looks out on a big grass field with a little garden on the ground beneath me. There are huge lavender plants there and I already went and picked some, whether I was supposed to or not. It smells heavenly.

We all went out to find dinner for ourselves before the kids first rehearsal with David Flood, who is totally non-gay, but had a man purse with him, which I thought was totally awesome. My family wandered around for a while and finally came on this quiet, really open-feeling pub, that was relatively cheap (especially compared to London) and delicious (meaning, it actually had flavor, unlike most British food). The two best things about it however, were that they have free Wi-fi (amazing and wonderful), and that since the drinking age here is 18, I ordered wine for myself for the first time. The guy didn't even card me. It was awesome. And yummy.

It seems funny that by age 19, I should feel at home in an ancient British cathedral town, 4000 miles from my home, but I do. The second I stepped off the bus, it was like my soul breathed a sigh of relief. Mom, dad and I walked through the town to go meet the choir post-rehearsal. It was perfect. I can't even describe how much I love it here. I don't know if you have to be here to experience it, or if it's just unique to me, but I love it. My walk gave me a nice preview of the shops and places to go.

So much to do tomorrow!

Day 6, Canterbury

It's pretty sad that my bed here in the dorms of the King's College School is more comfortable than my cot thing in London. Dad woke me up around 7:20 to get ready for breakfast which is served at 8 (in the oldest refectory [dining halls] in the England), which turned out to be awesome. There's also an amazing organist practicing in the chapel across the hall from us. It's all so surreal. And amazing. And wonderful.

It's wonderful to have my own room to sit in, and get ready this morning. Being over here is making me appreciate simple pleasures.

Dad has shoved about 8 pieces of fruit into my bag to to take back to our rooms for snacks, and I feel kind of like a bag lady, making me concluded that sometimes carrying a big bag all the time is good. Other times, you're the one that gets stuck carrying pilfered fruit from the dining hall.

It's misting rain here, kind of like the water fans they blow at you on hot days at amusement parks, which makes me glad I didn't do anything to my hair this morning except shove it all back in a clip. It's chilly, and I don't have many chilly clothes, but we're making do. Mom and I are planning to do some shopping this morning while the choir has it's second rehearsal, which I'm very excited about. I've only purchased one gift so far, and I'm hoping to find more things here where everything is more along the lines of me. I'm planning to stop at the pub we found that has Wi-fi and email a few people and post this while we're out. I'm so happy to be here.

Oh, and a correction to one of my first posts that my dad pointed out to me. On the plane, I was not 3112 miles above the ground, that would be feet. We ended up being somewhere around 16,000 feet up, but we were never close to 3000 miles up. Just thought I'd revise my statement as to not look like a total idiot.

Love to all!