It started with an LCD clock reading 7 a.m. and ended with a Pistons-Magic game on TNT.
These are my first and last official memories of London, the former being on the shuttle bus from Heathrow to the London Centre, the latter embedding itself in my mind as the JetBlue plane touched down in Rochester. A perfect four month separation strung together by countless memories and epic stories that are lumped together in a single hackneyed word used to describe every study abroad semester: an "experience."
True, that's about all it can be called since the perpetrators asking this question demand a concise ten second response before they move on in conversation. But there isn't much else that can condense a literal life-altering time in one's life and explain it. When you think it over, there are a myriad of things to consider about your favourite this and that, the best cities, the best food and so on and so forth. And when the conversations have ended and you're left alone to bask in the spring that May brings and the familiar scent of budding lilacs, mowed grass and unwashed dog, a deluge of London comes back without warning.
I have been drowned more times than I care to remember in the ensuing flood. The walks to class through Hyde Park, the taste of farafelle pasta with salt, pepper, butter and basil mixed with the musty scent of Arabic carpeting in Flat 95 and the shift of the sidewalk tiles on Edgware Road while walking toward Marble Arch still linger potently. Words are too cheaply used and yet they are all we have to convey our lives to one another. It's something I've tried to do ever since arriving in the States and have failed miserably at. Waking up in your own house and not knowing where you are for a full ten minutes due to culture shock can't be accurately portrayed with these simplistic utterances. Yet we still strive to encapsulate our lives, these moments, tragedies and comedies, sights and sounds, these...experiences into writing or oral presentations, knowing full well that most of it will never escape our lips and will remain locked in our souls for us to dip into eventually, much like the proverbial jar of sunshine saved for a rainy day.
Words may be forgotten, but London lives on subtle feelings and sensations; a collection of scattered sparks that will ever light the fires of my imagination. Yes, in case you can't tell, I miss London. And while this may or may not be the conclusion of my depiction of a semester spent abroad, it will remain something vivid and beautiful to me long after the writing ceases.
Thank you for reading this odd collection of writings about the past four months; your comments (and sometimes lack thereof) kept me creative and flowing. Cheers!
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
You Just Might Wave Hello Again...
Well, it's starting to set in now, that mildly depressing oh-my-gosh-I'm-not-going-back feeling. It's been six days since our flight from Heathrow to JFK touched down at 4:40 p.m. and thoughts, emotions and feelings have been mixed. The least I can do to distract myself, as well as you, the reader, from sinking back into a post-European funk is to fill you in on the trip back.
After snatching about four hours of sleep at Amy's apartment, its inhabitants packed up their belongings and turned in their keys before embarking on a trip to the Piccadilly Line, which took us to Heathrow. Along the way, the towing handle on my morbidly obese suitcase snapped off, which led to the acquisition of my latest skill: carrying 150 lbs. of luggage and three winter coats across multiple airports. We squeezed into the nearest car and Lauren, Amy, Casey and I rode the car for about 40 minutes before arriving at Terminal 3. I re-learned the lesson that God's got a great sense of humour by experiencing the 70-degree, blue skies and sunshine weather outside of the airport just as we arrived. After checking in and grabbing a quick bite to eat, it was time to begin the rounds of goodbyes. Saying goodbye to Tahleen and Greg was sad, but Sara's was the hardest. We ran a lot together and talked and hung out quite a bit, so even though we'll be seeing one another in the fall, it's still difficult not to be able to see people like her every day.
As we boarded, my mind was distracted from its wanderings by the guy in line in front of me. He happened to be carrying a guitar in a Taylor case, which is a legit guitar to be carrying around. But, in an effort to cut down on my awkwardness, I didn't make conversation. Turns out that it was Rob Thomas from Matchbox 20. Good one. Kudos, me. Alexa sat next to me on the plane and we watched Juno in unison so that we could laugh in the exact same parts at the exact same time. Two movies and an episode of The Simpsons later, we were touching down in JFK. Luke and I detatched from the rest of the group after saying a lot of farewells around the baggage claim and hit up the JetBlue terminal, where we waited until getting our flights back to our respective homes. Mom picked me up in Rochester around 10:30 and then it was time to sleeeep.
Sidenote: something I still don't understand is why my Spanish keeps surfacing in the most random places. In church this past Sunday, "hoy en dia" slipped out instead of "today." And just now, it was almost "equipaje" instead of "luggage."
In an effort to keep this shorter than usual, I'll save the reflective stuff for another post. But yeah, now I'm back on American soil. And it's still weird. Yeah.
After snatching about four hours of sleep at Amy's apartment, its inhabitants packed up their belongings and turned in their keys before embarking on a trip to the Piccadilly Line, which took us to Heathrow. Along the way, the towing handle on my morbidly obese suitcase snapped off, which led to the acquisition of my latest skill: carrying 150 lbs. of luggage and three winter coats across multiple airports. We squeezed into the nearest car and Lauren, Amy, Casey and I rode the car for about 40 minutes before arriving at Terminal 3. I re-learned the lesson that God's got a great sense of humour by experiencing the 70-degree, blue skies and sunshine weather outside of the airport just as we arrived. After checking in and grabbing a quick bite to eat, it was time to begin the rounds of goodbyes. Saying goodbye to Tahleen and Greg was sad, but Sara's was the hardest. We ran a lot together and talked and hung out quite a bit, so even though we'll be seeing one another in the fall, it's still difficult not to be able to see people like her every day.
As we boarded, my mind was distracted from its wanderings by the guy in line in front of me. He happened to be carrying a guitar in a Taylor case, which is a legit guitar to be carrying around. But, in an effort to cut down on my awkwardness, I didn't make conversation. Turns out that it was Rob Thomas from Matchbox 20. Good one. Kudos, me. Alexa sat next to me on the plane and we watched Juno in unison so that we could laugh in the exact same parts at the exact same time. Two movies and an episode of The Simpsons later, we were touching down in JFK. Luke and I detatched from the rest of the group after saying a lot of farewells around the baggage claim and hit up the JetBlue terminal, where we waited until getting our flights back to our respective homes. Mom picked me up in Rochester around 10:30 and then it was time to sleeeep.
Sidenote: something I still don't understand is why my Spanish keeps surfacing in the most random places. In church this past Sunday, "hoy en dia" slipped out instead of "today." And just now, it was almost "equipaje" instead of "luggage."
In an effort to keep this shorter than usual, I'll save the reflective stuff for another post. But yeah, now I'm back on American soil. And it's still weird. Yeah.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Recap
Alright, let's clarify something here. There is no way that I could possibly be done with this blog after this update. Part of that is due to the stories, random memories and revelations that the summer is sure to bring and part of that is due to my own state of denial that I have been thriving in, telling myself that I'm only back in the States for a short period of time before heading back for another month or so of European glory. Yeah, I love it that much.
As for recapping, let's start with the last week of London/Lagos/Sevilla. Amy and I bumped out of London early, thus missing the end of term party at ISH, which was apparently a good time. I still wish we could have gone to it AND gone to the full Lagos trip, but when it comes down to it, I think Lagos had it beat. After nearly missing the flight and sharing a sweaty embrace in Stansted Airport, Amy and I flew down to Sevilla where we met up with Eric, Melanie and Norah to head over to the bus terminal. Our bus ride to Faro was three hours long, but the wait until our train was about five hours. We survived the night thanks to Eric's blunders with a reappearing black cat, some drunk Portuguese teens who we will remember forever and the Magical Portuguese Sleeping Grass that deserves capitalization. We got into Lagos around 9:30 and headed over to our hostel, The Rising Cock. The jokes that ensued over the weekend were...fairly predictable. The rest of the day was spent at the beach, where we all got burnt and headed back to the hostel resembling two-legged lobsters.
Saturday, we booked a boat tour of the grottoes on the surrounding coastline, which was great until we stepped onto the boat. The boat itself wasn't exactly what you'd call steady, so the rocking made even the most stolid of stomachs start to feel nauseous. This in turn meant that three people were blowing chunks over the side of the boat about 20 minutes into the two hour tour we were taking. Good times. The Mananita will forever hold great memories for us all. After that, we got a brief lunch and did some souvenir shopping before taking a walk on some of the other beaches on the coast and searching for seashells; Melanie, Norah and I were also the only ones brave enough to wade into the cold waters of the Atlantic. For dinner, I had squid rings, which are like onion rings, except with squid instead of onion on the inside. SO good.
Sunday and Monday can be lumped into one paragraph. Sunday morning, we cleaned up our room/apartment in the hostel, had breakfast and then left. Oh yeah, how could I forget?? For breakfast each morning, Mama, the cook/cleaner of the Cock, made us these amazing crepes that we filled with Nutella and all sorts of amazing goodness. By far one of the best breakfasts that we've had while traveling! We made it back to Sevilla around 8 or 9 and had ice cream at Rayas before walking around the city for a while; Amy and I eventually made it back to our hostel around 12:30 or so where we talked with this really nice Canadian couple who were backpacking around Europe for a month. The next morning, we met up with Eric and Norah to go into El Catedral (third largest cathedral in Europe) and La Giralda (the 36 story tower where they would ring the bell as a call to prayer back in the day). After that, it was back to CC-CS, their school building, where Amy and I sat in on Norah and Eric's Spanish-American Civilization class. It was really cool 'cause it was all in Spanish but my Spanish comprehension was good enough that I could understand nearly all of it. I was pretty proud of myself. From there, Eric, Amy and I took a three hour tour of the city on Sevici bicicletas, which is a public mode of transportation where you purchase a seven-day pass and ride the bikes from station to station. A bird pooped on my head at some point in the ride. We ate dinner and then headed over to Triana, where we almost went to a flamenco show, but ended up not going because Eric was feeling sick and Melanie had work to do.
Tuesday, Amy left around 11:15, so Norah was my tour guide for the day. We went into the Museo de Bellas Artas, a contemporary art museum and the Real Alcazar (pronounced ray-AHL AHL-cah-zar) and got paella at this restaurant called Los Angeles, where we were mistaken for two authentic Spanish people. Norah claims it was because of her skirt; I claim it was our mad Spanish skills. Then I sat in on the Spanish-American Civ class again, which was awesome again and eventually left for the airport. Norah and I said our goodbyes and I took the bus to the airport where I found out that Amy had missed her earlier flight and had been waiting EIGHT HOURS to get on this flight with. The rest of the flight and trip back to London was hectic and trying, but we made it back to her apartment around 2:30 a.m.
And that was the amazing five-day trip to Sevilla and Lagos. There will be a couple more posts that will hopefully be shorter about the trip back to the U.S. and random anecdotes about cultural differences that will be more interesting than they sound now, I promise. But I suppose that's all for now!
Pictures from the trip:
Lagos y Sevilla (Hombre, claro)
As for recapping, let's start with the last week of London/Lagos/Sevilla. Amy and I bumped out of London early, thus missing the end of term party at ISH, which was apparently a good time. I still wish we could have gone to it AND gone to the full Lagos trip, but when it comes down to it, I think Lagos had it beat. After nearly missing the flight and sharing a sweaty embrace in Stansted Airport, Amy and I flew down to Sevilla where we met up with Eric, Melanie and Norah to head over to the bus terminal. Our bus ride to Faro was three hours long, but the wait until our train was about five hours. We survived the night thanks to Eric's blunders with a reappearing black cat, some drunk Portuguese teens who we will remember forever and the Magical Portuguese Sleeping Grass that deserves capitalization. We got into Lagos around 9:30 and headed over to our hostel, The Rising Cock. The jokes that ensued over the weekend were...fairly predictable. The rest of the day was spent at the beach, where we all got burnt and headed back to the hostel resembling two-legged lobsters.
Saturday, we booked a boat tour of the grottoes on the surrounding coastline, which was great until we stepped onto the boat. The boat itself wasn't exactly what you'd call steady, so the rocking made even the most stolid of stomachs start to feel nauseous. This in turn meant that three people were blowing chunks over the side of the boat about 20 minutes into the two hour tour we were taking. Good times. The Mananita will forever hold great memories for us all. After that, we got a brief lunch and did some souvenir shopping before taking a walk on some of the other beaches on the coast and searching for seashells; Melanie, Norah and I were also the only ones brave enough to wade into the cold waters of the Atlantic. For dinner, I had squid rings, which are like onion rings, except with squid instead of onion on the inside. SO good.
Sunday and Monday can be lumped into one paragraph. Sunday morning, we cleaned up our room/apartment in the hostel, had breakfast and then left. Oh yeah, how could I forget?? For breakfast each morning, Mama, the cook/cleaner of the Cock, made us these amazing crepes that we filled with Nutella and all sorts of amazing goodness. By far one of the best breakfasts that we've had while traveling! We made it back to Sevilla around 8 or 9 and had ice cream at Rayas before walking around the city for a while; Amy and I eventually made it back to our hostel around 12:30 or so where we talked with this really nice Canadian couple who were backpacking around Europe for a month. The next morning, we met up with Eric and Norah to go into El Catedral (third largest cathedral in Europe) and La Giralda (the 36 story tower where they would ring the bell as a call to prayer back in the day). After that, it was back to CC-CS, their school building, where Amy and I sat in on Norah and Eric's Spanish-American Civilization class. It was really cool 'cause it was all in Spanish but my Spanish comprehension was good enough that I could understand nearly all of it. I was pretty proud of myself. From there, Eric, Amy and I took a three hour tour of the city on Sevici bicicletas, which is a public mode of transportation where you purchase a seven-day pass and ride the bikes from station to station. A bird pooped on my head at some point in the ride. We ate dinner and then headed over to Triana, where we almost went to a flamenco show, but ended up not going because Eric was feeling sick and Melanie had work to do.
Tuesday, Amy left around 11:15, so Norah was my tour guide for the day. We went into the Museo de Bellas Artas, a contemporary art museum and the Real Alcazar (pronounced ray-AHL AHL-cah-zar) and got paella at this restaurant called Los Angeles, where we were mistaken for two authentic Spanish people. Norah claims it was because of her skirt; I claim it was our mad Spanish skills. Then I sat in on the Spanish-American Civ class again, which was awesome again and eventually left for the airport. Norah and I said our goodbyes and I took the bus to the airport where I found out that Amy had missed her earlier flight and had been waiting EIGHT HOURS to get on this flight with. The rest of the flight and trip back to London was hectic and trying, but we made it back to her apartment around 2:30 a.m.
And that was the amazing five-day trip to Sevilla and Lagos. There will be a couple more posts that will hopefully be shorter about the trip back to the U.S. and random anecdotes about cultural differences that will be more interesting than they sound now, I promise. But I suppose that's all for now!
Pictures from the trip:
Lagos y Sevilla (Hombre, claro)
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Beaches, Grass and Bicicletas
Wow. So the last week has been incredibly busy and there's not time for a proper update, so I'll just give you the highlights before writing more in-depth later.
Thursday night, Amy and I flew down to Sevilla and met Norah, Eric and Melanie in Parque de Maria Luisa and headed over to the bus station to get tickets to head to Lagos, Portugal for the weekend. We took the overnight bus to Faro, got there at 2 a.m. and by some miracle dubbed the magical Portugese sleeping grass, made it until 7 a.m. when we had to catch our train to Lagos. The rest of the time there was spent on the beach and taking this crazy boat tour of the grottos on the Portugese coastline. It was great until one of the families that came along with us started throwing up over the side...then we got queasy.
We left there on Sunday and came back to Sevilla in the evening, where we went out for delicious ice cream at this place called Rayas and then walked around for a while before heading back to our hostel. Monday was a jam-packed tour day starting with el Catedral, la Giralda and a couple of plazas before we headed back to CC-CS (the school in Spain) to sit in on the Spanish-American Civilization class with Norah, Eric and Melanie. It was all in Spanish, but Luis, the profesor, was muy facil to understand once you got into the rhythm of his speech. After that, we went to lunch and then Eric, Amy and I rode bikes around the city to a few different places like the Cristobol Colon egg statue and la Isla de Magica, which were pretty cool. We tried to go to a flamenco show that night, but sadly, Eric wasn't feeling that great so we couldn't go.
Tuesday, Amy left around 11:30 or so after we walked around the city for a bit and then I sat in on Luis' class again before heading out to lunch with Norah at Los Angeles which had this incredible paella. Sidenote: the postres (desserts) here are phenomenal. From there, the two of us went to the Alcazar, which has really nice gardens and also where a bird pooped on my head for the second time that weekend. Norah laughed hysterically...as did I. After that, I got my luggage and it was time to head back to London to catch my final flight from London to JFK...which leaves in about 10 hours, considering it's 4 a.m. right now. Yeah, I'm tired. I'll actaully update later.
¡¡Hasta luego!!
Thursday night, Amy and I flew down to Sevilla and met Norah, Eric and Melanie in Parque de Maria Luisa and headed over to the bus station to get tickets to head to Lagos, Portugal for the weekend. We took the overnight bus to Faro, got there at 2 a.m. and by some miracle dubbed the magical Portugese sleeping grass, made it until 7 a.m. when we had to catch our train to Lagos. The rest of the time there was spent on the beach and taking this crazy boat tour of the grottos on the Portugese coastline. It was great until one of the families that came along with us started throwing up over the side...then we got queasy.
We left there on Sunday and came back to Sevilla in the evening, where we went out for delicious ice cream at this place called Rayas and then walked around for a while before heading back to our hostel. Monday was a jam-packed tour day starting with el Catedral, la Giralda and a couple of plazas before we headed back to CC-CS (the school in Spain) to sit in on the Spanish-American Civilization class with Norah, Eric and Melanie. It was all in Spanish, but Luis, the profesor, was muy facil to understand once you got into the rhythm of his speech. After that, we went to lunch and then Eric, Amy and I rode bikes around the city to a few different places like the Cristobol Colon egg statue and la Isla de Magica, which were pretty cool. We tried to go to a flamenco show that night, but sadly, Eric wasn't feeling that great so we couldn't go.
Tuesday, Amy left around 11:30 or so after we walked around the city for a bit and then I sat in on Luis' class again before heading out to lunch with Norah at Los Angeles which had this incredible paella. Sidenote: the postres (desserts) here are phenomenal. From there, the two of us went to the Alcazar, which has really nice gardens and also where a bird pooped on my head for the second time that weekend. Norah laughed hysterically...as did I. After that, I got my luggage and it was time to head back to London to catch my final flight from London to JFK...which leaves in about 10 hours, considering it's 4 a.m. right now. Yeah, I'm tired. I'll actaully update later.
¡¡Hasta luego!!
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