Coming Home

Well readers, I am returning to America tomorrow after nine weeks of being away. Jon and I have been having a great time this week and I can't wait to let you all know about it. However, the time is not now as I am quite exhausted and have to catch a plane from Heathrow tomorrow in the morning. I will have a grand conclusion post once I am stateside again. I am really excited to be returning to Indiana especially as summer is not over yet and I have the beach with my mom's family, a week at my Dad's, Jon's sister's wedding, and Jon and I's one year anniversary all to look forward to before dreary old school starts again. I'll see you all in the States!

Gutentag!

Jon and I are now in Cologne, Germany and our hostel has free Internet so I thought I would have a quick update. After a morning struggling with two large suitcases and various buses at early hours, I stored my bags and got to the airport. Jon's flight didn't show up on the arrivals board and so, being my mother's daughter, I assumed it had crashed and panicked. Luckily, the case was not so and he and I had a disgusting Love Actually reunion I will not recount here.

I immediately took him to the Tower which we both thoroughly enjoyed despite large numbers of tourists. Seriously, the most concentrated area of tourists since I have been here. We also went on Tower Bridge before leaving for the airport for Amsterdam. This drunk guy with a dog wouldn't stop talking to us on the train to Stansted but other than that, all went fairly well.

We loved Amsterdam. We went to the Sexmuseum, walked all over the district, took a paddleboat on the canal, went to Anne Frank's House, and shopped for prostitutes in the Red Light District. Not really, but we did walk through the Red Light District, seeing as that was where our hostel was. Our room was also a stainless steel bachelor bad circa 1970, pictures to follow when I return to my laptop. Amsterdam is a beautiful city besides all the sin and smoke, so we had a really great day there.

We are now in Cologne about to go off to the Chocolate Museum (!) but I wanted to let you all know we are OK and having a great time. Aufwiedersein! (I know, not how you spell it, give my apologies to Heidi Klum.)

Going Offline

I am about to leave Palace Court and thus leave Internet access. I don't know when I will have it again or if I will get to an Internet cafe but I am hoping that I will. I can share Jon and I's adventures with all of you plus have some sort of blog closure to my whole study abroad experience. So keep watching for an update my loyal readers.

Last Week of the Program

Sunday I slept until noon after the debacle that was Fabric and was awoken by Molly coming to get me to go to Spitalfields Market, yet another open-air market with stalls of clothing, jewelry, ethnic food, and various other goods. We had a late start since we were waiting for two girls who had partied pretty hard at Fabric and thus were not the quickest to revive but set off we did. Spitalfields was definitely the least crowded of the markets I have been to and had a lot of really cool stuff but once again, nothing really caught my fancy. Well, except for the most beautiful vintage dress I have ever seen, but it was 250 pounds so that was no use. I am just really bad at shopping, especially in a different currency system, so came away without anything again. It was a fun trip anyway and turned out to be my only venture away from Palace Court that day. I needed the rest of the time to continue recovering from Fabric and to get things left undone accomplished.

Monday I resolved to get back out there and get things done. I left in the morning for the Museum of London which is exactly what it sounds like, a museum about London and its history. Snore. Seriously, I love history, but this was without a doubt one of the most boring museums I have ever been to in my life. Not well laid out and very dry. Plus a large section of it was off limits due to construction and there was a large group of schoolchildren. Shudder. Schoolchildren. Shudder. It had some items of interest such as an ancient lion skull (yes, there used to be lions in Britain, who knew?) and Oliver Cromwell's funeral mask but it looked like the best stuff was in the under construction portion. Lametastic. After that disappointment, I headed for the Monument to the Great Fire of 1666. Then when I got there, I decided I didn't really want to pay the 2 pounds to go up to its balcony and thus I looked, took a few pictures, and then left. I had some time until my oral exam at City but I got turned around a bit trying to reach my next museum so I ended up foregoing anything else and going early to print train tickets and such for Germany. The exam was basically just me talking to my academic adviser and internship coordinator about my internship and academic paper. No big deal at all. Just chit-chat really. I headed home for a quick dinner before heading to the Regent's Park Open Air Theatre where I had tickets for The Importance of Being Earnest.

I immediately fell in love with Regent's Park as I walked through it to the theatre. It has a boating lake and gazebos. I have a thing for gazebos. I also loved the theatre when upon entering it was decked out in twinkly lights. I also have a thing for twinkly lights. It reminded me so heavily of the Tippecanoe Amphitheater that I got nostalgic for bygone summer days at Civic. The show was very good too. Well, Act I not so much. I didn't think much of the actors playing Algernon and Jack and they were the vast majority of the first act so I didn't enjoy it much. Everyone in the first act just seemed to know they were performing Wilde and that it should be funny so they played everything more over the top than was necessary. They seemed to be telling us the audience how we should react rather than letting us react how we pleased. Luckily, the second act, really Act II and III, introduced Cecily who was my favorite performer of the evening. She overdid nothing and was a breath of fresh air to the proceedings. She and Gwendolyn also had great chemistry together, bouncing off of and complementing each other well. I don't know what it was but everyone seemed to do better in the second act than in the first, even Jack and Algernon, so the evening ended with delight rather than boredom. Though I still had qualms about the scenic design. Who thought it was a good idea to require the crew to "plant" dozens of roses on the stage floor during intermission and then take them up again between Act II and III without an intermission? Seriously, it was like the painfully long scene changes from Number the Stars all over again. The theatre also made us exit a different way than we came in so I had no idea how to get back to the Tube station. Luckily, I just followed the crowd and ended up back there anyway. Yay for lemming logic!

Tuesday was bad. I slept until 4 pm. I know, shameful, I agree but I swear it felt like I had mono again I was so tired and lacking in energy. I tried to wake up at 8 am and noon but both attempts were miserable failures. My body just gave out on me and would not let me do what I wanted until it had its proper rest. I felt much better when I finally did get up and shower and grocery shop. Plus people were going out that night and my intense sleep session left me ready and raring. We went to Sports Cafe because it was student night so we got in for free and got really cheap drinks. Some people chose to join a beer pong tournament but I opted for the dance floor instead. I had the time at Sports that I expected to have at Fabric. Great music, enough room to breathe and dance, and company to keep away the creepers. Unfortunately, a few unavoidably got in but they were dispatched as quickly as possible. I also had an interesting conversation with a Brazilian through my notebook and pen since we couldn't actually hear each other. Poor Tiago could hardly speak or write English anyway but he was nice and not creepy. It was 2 am before the others decided we needed to leave. I could have stayed and danced longer but having traveled back alone in the middle of the night before, I did not wish to repeat the experience. Really fun night at Sports and way cheaper as well.

Wednesday sucked because it was our final exam day. Everyone was studying or attempting to study all day because of course none of us had before then. This being the last hurdle to complete freedom made it all the harder for us to complete. By 8 pm, it was indeed done and time to sleep to prepare for...

CHAWTON!!!!! For those of you who don't know what Chawton is, it is the location of the Jane Austen's House museum where Jane lived when all of her novels were published and where she wrote my personal favorite, Emma. I have been looking forward to this trip since before the program even started. I missed the 10 o'clock train by a few minutes (FML) so I had to wait in Waterloo station for the 11 o'clock. Tres boring seeing as the only thing to do was go into the 50% off sale at Monsoon and marvel at how 50% off can still be so expensive. Then when I went through the ticket gate the guy asked me where I was going. I said Alton (the nearest train station to Chawton) but I said "al-ton". The ticket guy gave me a dirty "you American" look and snootily corrected me that it was "uhl-ton". What the fuck ever dude.

An hour later, I was in Jane Austen country. The Jane Austen's House website said to take a bus and then walk but after picking up a map, I figured I would just walk since it really wasn't that far. This meant I got to walk through Alton town and I liked it. It felt somewhat like Penzance in that it was small town and pretty but minus the ocean. I found Chawton with little difficulty and came upon Jane Austen's House before I even knew that is what it was. I entered through the shop, though nothing caught my fancy, and watched the intro video surrounded by stills from Jane Austen films. Jane Austen's House is a nice sized cottage with a courtyard, garden, and bakehouse. It was gloriously sunny so I sat in the garden for a bit before entering the actual house. I got to see the table where Jane Austen wrote all of her novels. I about hyperventilated with excitement and coolness. It was a very interesting place with costumes from Jane Austen film adaptations, Jane artifacts, and displays about her novels as well. You really could imagine her life even if being surrounded by senior citizens and wall plaques dampened the effect somewhat. Feeling I had paid proper homage, I decided after leaving the museum to not go to Winchester, where she is buried, but rather explore Alton further before boarding the train.

This turned out to be an excellent idea as I had a delicious meal and found an awesome secondhand book store. My late lunch was a farmhouse burger (a burger topped with a fried egg and bacon), chips (with salt, pepper, and vinegar of course), and a chocolate milkshake (my first since coming to Britain). Well worth the splurge of pounds for it. Thanks to the Alton Secondhand Bookstore, my collection of Charlotte Bronte novels is complete as I purchased The Professor there in addition to Child Star, the autobiography of Shirley Temple (50p!), and Classic Victorian and Edwardian Ghost Stories.

I caught an earlier train back to London, got myself an enormous Diet Coke from McDonald's, and then perused ANOTHER discount bookstore until it was time to enter the Old Vic for The Winter's Tale. The Old Vic is an excellent theater and one of the few that has managed not to burn down at some point or other. My seat in the dress circle was 19.50 because a safety rail was partially in my sight line. This safety rail was a skinny bar of metal that obscured my view not a bit. The people right in front of me had to pay 45 pounds for their seats and we really had the same viewpoint. Even the pillars I doubt would have obscured a view too much considering how small they were. So the lesson is, when going to the Old Vic, always pick a seat with something "in your way" because it likely will make no difference and you get a cheap ticket. Yay!

I had never seen The Winter's Tale performed but I knew the story and had used a monologue from it to audition on several occasions. It was very good, as evidenced by my tears at the end of the first act and the second. It takes good theater to make me cry whereas any old film or TV show can manage to do it. The cast was made up of a company of British and American actors, including Ethan Hawke, all of whom are distinguished in the profession. For all this, I was not as impressed by some as I would have thought. Leontes was not very good in my opinion nor was Perdita, Florizel, or Polixenes. Paulina was truly amazing as was Hermione and Ethan Hawke was hysterical besides apparently being able to sing country music well. The most exciting thing for me though was Antigonus who turned out to be played by none other than Headmaster Charleston from Gilmore Girls! I was probably the only one in the theater whose celebrity awe was for him rather than Ethan. All in all, a most enjoyable evening at the theater, even if it was 3 hours and pouring rain when we exited the theater.

Today is not really worth mentioning beyond that I fruitlessly went shopping and packed. For most people, today is their last day in London or their families are here, so I was in a rather interesting spot. Perhaps I should have done something more notable than visit two Primarks and various too-expensive vintage stores but really I am so tired of touring and especially on my own as most of mine has been. I am SO ready for Jon to be here so I will have someone to tour with me and I can see London afresh through his eyes. His week here will be intense so perhaps I am just resting up for that rather than wearing myself out before it even starts. It is just getting to that point where you know it is time to go home and you are ready for it. I am ready, after Jon and I's week, to come home. I love America. I love Bloomington. I love my mom. I love my pets. I love London too but it isn't home, though someday I do hope to make it so.

Last Week Recap

Last week I spent Monday and Tuesday finishing my enormous academic paper and then Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday were my last days of work. It was an intense week, let me tell you. I had to work for 10 hours on Thursday because we had the get in for the kids' show and then the dress/tech rehearsal that night. I got to learn how to use the BAC's Ion light board which is beautiful and far more advanced than anything I ever ran at Civic. Though running the lights comes down to the same thing really no matter what: pressing the Go button. The kids were still predictably unfocused, most especially a few of them, but the show went off without too many problems Friday night. I stayed after to have a pint with the director and two other helpers and we had some good laughs about beatboxing and George Lucas. I got more emotional than I thought leaving that night knowing it was the last time. I was sad to not be able to say good-bye to any of my co-workers because none of them were working that day and my manager Luke had already left as well. The BAC wasn't exactly what I had had in mind for my summer but I did learn things and got to work with some fun people.

The Saturday following work was the Arcadia day trip to Brighton. I was really excited to go because Mom and Maddie had a great time there 7 years ago before I arrived and have been raving about it ever since. The day was like all other days on Arcadia planned trips: cloudy, chilly, and wet. Not the best weather for exploring a seaside town but I was determined to to be optimistic. After 1.5 hours in a freezing cold bus, we alighted right by Brighton Pier but made our way to the Brighton Pavilion to collect our group tickets. The Pavilion looks like an Indian palace from the outside with onion domes and such and then is decorated inside in a Chinese style. George IV built it when he was regent as his opulent seaside retreat and continued to use it until his death where it was then used by his two brother successors but Victoria didn't like it and sold it to the city council of Brighton. It really is remarkable inside, though for one who has been to China, it is obviously a very British interpretation of Chinese style. The dragon chandelier was my favorite thing, naturally, as it was very shiny.

We breezed through the Pavilion, seeing every room but not listening to the extensive audio tour commentary (not all of the buttons on my handset worked too), and then went to lunch in The Lanes, Brighton's main shopping area of very narrow alleyways. We ate at this amazing Italian restaurant with 8.95 three course lunch but it took 2 hours to get out of there and we were seated in the family section and thus had screaming children to put up with. My mushrooms cooked in butter, garlic, and parsley made up for it though. Oh my god amazing. After lunch we wandered through The Lanes some more, attempting to shop, but nobody really buying anything. Eventually Nori and I decided we wanted to check out the pier so we left the others to go do that. I love Brighton Pier; it is like King's Island on the Water. Fried food stands, henna tattoos, psychic readings, thrill rides, arcade games, etc all await you on the pier. We had limited time so unfortunately could not partake in any of the trashy chic enjoyment and we also only got to spend about a minute on the pebbly beach before taking off in the coach. I definitely want to return to Brighton someday and do it right, hopefully when the sun is out.

This day was followed by the biggest FML night I may have ever had. Against my better judgment, I decided to get dressed up and go out to a club with people from the house. I hadn't been to one my entire stay so I thought it was about time. We were supposed to leave at 11 but it was actually midnight before we left. This meant we missed the last tube and had to take a cab. Now, 8 people had tickets to the club, meaning they could go straight in without waiting in the line. Three of those girls were in my cab, however when we arrived at the club, it was discovered that three girls in the other cab that arrived before us had taken their tickets. This made the three girls incredibly angry and upset, making them call people inside to rant and talk of going home. I, who was going to have to wait in line anyway, didn't mind but I wanted to get in the line due to it being very chilly and raining. We got in the line and almost immediately got moved to the front of it because we were four girls on our own.

16 pounds (I know, too expensive, but I hadn't gone out before and figured it wouldn't hurt that much) later and we were inside Fabric, apparently London's hottest club. Yeah...it was like being inside an aneurysm. There were strobe lights, flashing lights, and fog, so that you couldn't see anyone around you and always felt somewhat off balance. It was also extremely crowded making dancing an uncomfortable invasion of personal space and the only music playing was very bad techno. I ended up with two girls and our three guys, none of whom really seemed interested in dancing, the whole reason I came,and all of whom were trashed while I was stone cold sober. Needless to say, the night was tedious and I wanted to go home but none of them wanted to come with me. I checked my phone at 3 am and saw I had missed a text from two girls who were leaving at 2 and wanted to know if I wanted to come with them. This made me angry at the world and so when my group moved to change locations again, I refused to come and instead left to go home.

So there I am alone in London at 3 in the morning when its raining and having no idea where I am. An enviable position to be in, I know. Still, I know enough about how to navigate London to not panic and walk until I find a bus stop. Of course, one is just down the road and I hop on the first bus that comes. On that bus, I figure out I need to take the 390 back to Palace Court, so I get off at the first stop where the 390 stops. However, since it is the middle of the night, the 390 wasn't scheduled to come for 20 minutes. This meant I had to hang out at the bus stop freezing cold and wet, tired to the core, surrounded by drunk/creepy people also waiting for early morning buses. Fun. The bus was late, which freaked me out for a bit, but I got on without any trouble and made it home fine. I got in bed at 4:30 and slept until Molly came to get me to go to the market at noon. Needless to say, I have been effectively turned off clubbing and will not be attempting another such night the rest of my sojourn in London.

At last, I am now caught up to this week which really hasn't been all that exciting but that entry will follow this one and then I will be completely caught up. WOO! Let this be a lesson to never get behind on ones blog; it is quite an effort to catch up again and your loyal readers become frustrated with you. I am sure there are many things that I forgot, especially pertaining to work, but I have always been of the mind that if you forget something then it was never really all that important to begin with.

Caty Turns 20 in Wales

My co-workers and I spent four hours talking about cultural differences between the US and the UK while also looking at funny websites. I also witnessed two of them, grown men, enthusiastically playing Cat's Cradle. Class was about immigration and we got a simple math worksheet to determine who did or did not have enough points to become a citizen. Ok, now that is out of the way, the fun stuff.

The weekend of July 3-5 was Arcadia's Adventure Weekend in Wales which I had been looking forward to ever since Arcadia sent us the activities list way back in May. My love for outdoor adventure is well-documented plus I really wanted to go to Wales plus it was the 4th/my birthday. Awesome. The 9 of us going from Palace Court set off together to Paddington Station which is about a 20-30 minute walk as it turns out. We were all in high spirits for our weekend away from London and academic paper stress.

We took a train to Swansea and then changed to a train to Haverfordwest, the nearest train station to Preseli Venture. It was uneventful, as most train travel is, except for the amusing Bunny Suicides that Stacy and Phil drew and shared with me. If you don't know about the Bunny Suicides, go look it up now, so funny. Preseli Venture, the name of the company who arranged the weekend and owned the lodge we would be staying at, sent people to meet us at Haverfordwest and take us in their van/jeep vehicles. I thought they were cool because they had such high ceilings that you could stand up inside the van and not hit your head. However, the ride was rather turny and twisty and 25 minutes long and I hadn't eaten in awhile. Not fun but I survived with minimal sickness.

Preseli Venture Lodge is an isolated area of the Pembrokeshire National Park with a small village a 20 minute walk up the hill and a few farms down the road. Absolutely gorgeous green hills, wildflowers, and a peek of the cliff and ocean beyond. The lodge is made up of two connected buildings. One is for the rooms and showers and the other is for the kitchen, bar, and lounge. The rooms were actually very nice with comfy beds and plenty of storage space. I shared a 6 person room with Clare, Molly, and Nori, and got my always beloved top bunk so that was fun. We threw our stuff down and went to dinner. Preseli provides all your meals while there and it is all home cooked by their chef Jackie. Our first dinner was vegetable lasagna and I was so hungry by that time that I just started eating without thinking about the vegetables. Shockingly, it was really good and I didn't even have to pick anything out of it despite the presence of my least favorite veggie, zucchini. I liked the lasagna more than the dessert of apple pie and ended up trading Phil my pie for his leftover zucchini. I know, take a moment to recover from the shock and feeling of the world turning upside down on itself.

We had free time after dinner so we all decided to walk 20 minutes down the hill to the local beach. We got a map from behind the bar and Helen, the bartender, explained the route to us. It seemed easy enough: walk down the hill, turn left, go through the gate right past the houses, and just follow the path through some woods, a meadow, and some more woods. No problem. Most people brought booze with them too so we were a merry party setting off. The farmhouses along the way were adorable and the walk was just very picturesque. We ran into no problems until after the meadow. There was a path leading up stairs and one leading through mud into a semi-swamp. Helen hadn't said anything about stairs but she had said there would be lots of mud and we should remove our shoes so we went the way of the semi-swamp. Soon we were all over our ankles in the most disgusting mud contracting who knows what diseases from the multitudes of insects. Eventually we came to where there was no way we could walk farther, it was genuinely swamp and was covered with water. Phil climbed up the hill next to us and then shouted down to us that the beach was straight ahead that way. We should have taken the stairs and thus avoided the whole muddy mess. FML.

Abermawr Beach is my perfect beach and we were there at the perfect time. The sun was setting making the clouds yellow and pink and purple. There was a cliff on the right side and on the left side and the beach was rocky instead of sandy. I fell in love immediately. Those of us brave (read: stupid) enough stripped to our bathing suits and ran into the water. Let me tell you, if I thought the Channel in Cornwall was cold, the Irish Sea in Wales is even more so. After dunking my whole body under, I came up screaming. Your skin goes numb eventually but for a few minutes there, it is intense. After wave jumping and allowing our bodies to get used to the water, some of us swam over to some rocks and went climbing. Not the best idea in bathing suits and bare feet especially since the rocks were covered in barnacles and thus very sharp. It was really fun though and I got to sing "Part of Your World" from a rock similar to the one in the movie where the ocean crashes up behind her. We left the rocks and Phil and I stayed in the water some more before going and sitting on the sand right at the water line and just staring around us in wonder. The sky looked like a gorgeous still painting because there was no wind. At last, Phil and I left the water, the last to do so, and then everyone on the shore informed me I was bleeding. It was true, somewhere along the way, barnacles had sliced open my leg and my calf was covered in blood. Nothing serious, I just let it bleed and figured the saltwater would have done it some good. We sat there until the sun was close to down and then made our way back in near darkness. Somewhat disconcerting but we made it back fairly easily and got to see a beautiful moon over the meadow. A shower and then it was bedtime since we would be rising early to start our activities.

Saturday morning they had bacon. Not bacon strips like in America, but more ham-like bacon. Still it was bacon and I was REALLY excited about that. Made the lackluster other offerings of toast, cereal, and fruit all that much better. My morning was dedicated to sea kayaking but first we had to go to the shed and suit up. Let me tell you, wetsuits are the worst possible things for your self-esteem. They are so hard to get on your body that you can actually injure yourself in the attempt. Not that I did that. No, that was that other girl. Yeah. Anyway, I had so many layers on. Bathing suit, fleece jacket, wet suit, waterproof jacket, life jacket, and kayak skirt. Yes, you read that right. You have to wear a skirt that hooks around the opening of your kayak so excess water doesn't get in. I felt mega attractive, let me tell you.

After our struggles outfitting ourselves, fitting our kayaks, and going over kayak basics, we drove off for Fishguard where we would be kayaking. Fishguard is a very pretty seaside village with a calm harbor that is ideal for beginner kayakers even if it was the setting for first Moby Dick movie and thus made me twitch a little. Once in the water, our instructors gave us more information about how to manage our kayak and then made us play kayak polo with a tennis ball so we could figure it all out. Needless to say, I was completely useless at both the kayaking and the polo playing. We then set off for the open ocean and I discovered I had the kayak magnetically attracted to the rocks. At least, that is what I am blaming it on. I lagged behind until we got safely away from the rocks and from there I could more or less keep up with the group. Our instructors shared fun facts with us as we paddled such as when the women of Fishguard saved Wales from the French in around 1797 by dressing in their absent military husbands uniforms and standing on the cliffs so the French though there were lots of soldiers and surrendered. They also pulled up crab traps and I got to hold a velvet crab. We also explored a cave before heading back to the harbor where we had to paddle against the wind which proved extremely difficult. I was so hot and tired by the time we got back to the ramp that I capsized on purpose (It is really easy to get out of a capsized kayak contrary to popular belief) just to cool off.

Thoroughly exhausted and soaked, the lunch of delicious gammon (basically vegetable with pork) soup and bread was much needed. I took a quick rinse in the shower just to get the salt off because our afternoon activity was going to be a hike so showering would have been useless. I forgot to mention that the weather in Wales is even more schizo than in Indiana. It will downpour for five minutes and then the sun will come out for an hour and then it will downpour again and so on and so forth. I didn't mind the rain when we were kayaking because I was wet already but hiking is a different story. There were two hikes: one 7 miles and one 3.5 miles from the halfway point of the other hike, Abercastle. It was pouring rain when the van stopped and the Preseli lady asked if anyone wanted to just do the Abercastle hike. No one wanted to be the weeny who voted for the short hike so we continued on. The Preseli lady dropped us off, basically said "Have fun but be back by 6 or else we call the coast guard.", and then we were left on our own to follow the Pembrokeshire Coast Path. It poured through the first 15-20 minutes of the hike and then was sunny and beautiful the rest of the time but we were already soaked so it didn't count for much. The scenery was without a doubt some of the best I have seen with cliff after cliff after cliff, the clear blue sea spreading out to the horizon, and all manner of flora growing on long grass reminiscent of Little House on the Prairie. Had the lower half of my body not protected by the waterproof not been so wet, it would have been more enjoyable.

Now it is time for my rant about sheep shit. The path led us through pastures, as in we were in among the animals. This also meant we were in among their excrement. It was everywhere. Big poop, little poop, dry poop, wet poop, completely unavoidable. I stopped admiring the scenery and instead had to constantly look at the ground to avoid the biggest piles of poop all the time knowing I was stepping in smaller ones which made me very grumpy. They should have had an advisory or something to warn about the sheep shit or found some way of cleaning it up. Who likes to walk through fecal matter? Who?! Of course, after Abercastle, the path went through no more pastures and so if I had walked the shorter hike then I could have avoided the sheep shit altogether. FML. It also turned out that 7 miles was a bit too much for me and sometime after Abercastle, my muscles started a mutiny and I had to push myself to keep moving. All in all, the hike was a fairly miserable experience despite the amazing surroundings. I felt fully justified in scarfing down an entire tube of Pringles after finally getting back to the lodge. A shower and dinner of curried chicken and rice restored my spirits but I was still exhausted. After a game of Balderdash and a Vodka Blue, I couldn't make it even to the bonfire and went to bed early to soothe my aching muscles. Not a very exciting 4th of July but I enjoyed myself, minus the sheep shit.


HAPPY 20TH BIRTHDAY TO ME! Really, it wasn't a very birthday birthday since my friends said Happy Birthday to me and that was about it. Still, it was one of my favorites because I got to go coasteering. Coasteering is a mix of rock climbing, swimming, and cliff jumping, so obviously designed to be one of my favorite activities ever. After breakfast (MORE BACON FOR MY BIRTHDAY!), we had to climb into wet suits again. This is when I was worried my birthday was going to go horribly wrong. I couldn't squeeze myself into my first suit despite incurring multiple friction burns in the attempt and they had to get me a second bigger one which I required aid to get into. At this point, everyone else was not only in their wetsuit, but had their padding shorts, lifejacket, helmet, and wet suit socks on as well. I was holding up the van. Because I was too fat. On my birthday. Woo.

It all got better from there though. Martin, our native Welshman guide, took us to an old abandoned quarry right on the coast so we had a protected lagoon to start off in. The water was a shock again but winter wetsuits are awesome and really did keep us mostly warm. We bobbed about in the water for a bit before Martin led us to a rock wall and we all climbed up onto the plateau. He had us practice proper jumping technique there because it was not but a foot or two up from the water. After that, we climbed up to a ledge of the old quarry building and jumped from there. I wanted to go higher (when don't I?) but Martin wouldn't let me. I seemed to amuse him in my enthusiasm for jumping from high places and climbing up rocks. He pointed to a section of the rock wall and said "If you want to climb up the hardest way, that is it." So I proceeded to climb up that way. Twice. The only girl to do so. Leaping off a cliff into the lagoon was incredibly fun and posing for my waterproof camera while doing so was an interesting challenge. All in all, an excellent birthday activity on its own. After we were all jumped out, Martin took us out onto some rocks into the open sea. The sea was pretty rough that day but that just made it more fun. He let us bob in this "jacuzzi" between two rocks as waves came in and out which inspired much screaming and giggling fun. The only part I didn't like was the seaweed that tangled around my legs and made me feel like the Kraken was coming for me.

We returned to the lodge for a baked potato loaded down with cheese and sweet corn for lunch before getting driven back to Haverfordwest. We then spent the next six hour on trains getting back to London. I got home and immediately called Mom and Jon before going to bed. End of birthday. So like I said, not very much like a birthday, but a fun day anyway despite the obnoxious hours of traveling. I love Wales and would love to go back at any time. Being 20 is also quite strange I must say. It has been one week now and I am still not used to the idea of no longer being an adolescent and that in 10 years I will probably be married and having babies. Woah. Too much for me. But for now, I am just chilling and waiting to turn 21 since we all know that is the way more important and cool birthday, at least in America.

Dublinia

Skip and I didn't awaken until 10 the next morning. We hadn't gone to bed until 2 so cut us a break. After a breakfast of three slices of toast and milk, we made for the city. Santry, Skip's neighborhood, is about a 45 min-1 hr bus ride to the city center. You have to have exact change for the bus ticket too. Very annoying. The ride was interesting, as I got to see a lot of Dublin on the way and hear more about it from Skip.

We were dropped off at O'Connell Street which is the main thoroughfare of Dublin. It contains The Spire, a huge monument modeled after a knitting needle to commemorate the Aran sweater, one of Ireland's greatest exports. Take that Eiffel Tower, there's a new phallic symbol in town. We walked along a wide pedestrian shopping street before going by her work and then crossing the River Liffey. We encountered a creepy woman who tried to hit on Skip as we passed by and a bunch of guys dressed as fictional female characters before we saw the rainbow flags and realized the Gay Pride Festival was in town. We were super excited but didn't actually end up running into it which was sad. We didn't really go in any places but we walked by quite a few such as Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin Castle, and Trinity College. We went in the Trinity bookstore where Skip knocked over an entire row of books about Napoleon much to my amusement. Dublin Castle doesn't really even look like a castle but like any other Georgian brick building with a random medieval tower attached so we passed on that too. We walked around A LOT though so I saw a great deal of Dublin including some very non-tourist areas and being with Skip was enough to make it fun. We ended up at St. Stephen's Green, a gorgeous park, before deciding to head back to O'Connell Street and get ready for our night on the town.

Much to my delight, they have Tesco in Ireland so we walked to Skip's nearby branch and stocked up on food and booze, of course. She had discovered the deliciousness of Bulmer's hard cider, just as I had, so we bought a 12 pack for the two of us for the weekend. We retreated to her apartment to drink our Bulmer's, eat cheap pizza, and watch half of Confessions of a Shopaholic before the audio got off sync and highly annoying. Her friends returned from wherever they had been and preparations for going out began. I liked her friends, though it was a bit strange being the odd one out of all of their jokes. They seemed to be the same kooky kind of people I like to spend my time with. We went to a pretty cool bar that had dancing but no cover charge. The first song they played upon walking in was "Summer of '69" so I knew the music was going to be awesome. Skip, her friend Laura, and I danced the night away implementing our own unique system of pulling and turning each other away from any creeper who tried to dance with one of us. It was a No Boys Allowed party. Skip then took me to Temple Bar but at this point it was 2 a.m., everyone was smashed, and the streets were trashed. We headed back, getting Burger King for Skip on the way. Yes, she got us Burger King cardboard crowns, yes, we wore them on the street and in the cab, and yes, we had a photo shoot when we got back. That is why Skip and I are friends. I slept on the L-shape that night which worked out only slightly better than the floor but hey, it was free.

We slept in again since we had stayed up late again. Skip mocked me for having a Bulmer's with breakfast but it was the only beverage I owned in her apartment, I didn't want to waste what I had purchased, and the Irish have a pint with breakfast all the time. I was just getting in touch with my ancestry. We got into the city center at roughly 2 in time to meet my roommate Lacey at the hostel she and I had gotten for Sunday night since Skip had to work early on Monday. The three of us then went to the National Museum. This was really cool because it had dead people. Literally. Four bog preserved bodies and a Viking skeleton. Totally gross and creepy so I loved it naturally. They were definitely the highlight of the museum along with the random Ancient Egypt exhibit with mummies (hey dead people again) and jewelry. I was tempted to buy a genuine Irish newsboy cap at the gift shop but it passed when I saw the price. After the museum, we settled in a pub to watch what we thought was a football game. Well, it was...Gaelic football. Gaelic football is the oddest sport I have ever witnessed. It seems to combine every other sport known to man. I mean you can kick the ball, dribble the ball, punch it with your arms, and there is a goal AND goal posts. We simply could not figure out the rules but it was funny to watch as well as the attractive men playing. Skip and Lacey got Irish breakfast for dinner so I got to pilfer their unwanted sausage which made me happy.

Lacey and I bid Skip good-bye after a drink in Temple Bar. Lacey and I went to another pub to watch the Brazil-USA football game but got sidetracked by who else but creepy middle-aged men. I swear, I must project some kind of midlife crisis vibe or something because the only guys who ever talk to me, excepting UQ douchebag, are overly friendly middle aged men. We weren't in the pub five minutes before a group zoned in on us and wouldn't let us go. We spent the next three hours principally with this one guy whose name I either never learned or do not remember. He kept buying drinks which I refused but I had to sit there while Lacey got drunker and drunker, eventually lopsidedly line dancing to "Cotton Eyed Joe". At least she didn't shout "DOWN WITH THE BRITISH!" Finally, I peeled Lacey away from the cesspool and conducted her safely back to our hostel. Where she proceeded to vomit, only partially in the trashcan, waking up the three other women in our room and I had to run and get toilet paper to try and clean up. All in all, not my ideal evening in Dublin. I am just too serious, at least according to creepy middle aged man, but he gave Lacey his e-mail address and a room key so I don't really pay attention to his opinion.

Lacey and I were predictably tired after our long night/weekend so Monday was very chill. We went to the Carriage Office where I found out no one had turned in my cell phone and gave them Lacey's number in case some miracle happened and they got it before our plane took off. (It didn't and I looked up my account online and someone had used my phone after I lost it. FML.) We then bought our airport bus tickets, went souvenir shopping (none of my definitely Irish family names were present on the heredity key chains and mugs which miffed me), and walked along the Liffey. We found a series of the scariest looking sculptures I have ever seen. They looked as if they were made out of the scum that forms on ships and were excessively tall and skinny. They really resembled Redeads from Ocarina of Time and thus filled me with horror. The sculptures were to commemorate the victims of the Irish Potato Famine but we took inappropriate smiling and mocking photos anyway. I know, express elevator to Hell, heard it all before. We had no problems with anything at the airport so we had time to grab food and then I found my flight was delayed again. Ironically, Ryanair is the "on time airline". Ha. That is all I have to say about that. Ha. I had also forgotten my month unlimited Oystercard expired while I was away so I had to pay 2 pounds for a bus to get to a Tube station to start a pay-as-you-go account. Slightly annoying but nothing compared to losing my cell in the cab.

My impression of Dublin was not very favorable. Great nightlife, no doubt about it, but if you are like me and not very interested in that, it is a slightly underwhelming city. Admittedly, I didn't get to go to any of the renowned theaters which might have tipped my favor a bit nor did I see near everything but what I did see did not impress me. I enjoyed Ireland much more 7 years ago but then Ireland is really a lot about its countryside and that is where I went before. Getting to see Skip was really awesome though; we had so much fun and so many laughs that Dublin could have been Gary and I would have had a good time. So I am very glad I went but I don't really have a strong desire to go back. Sorry homeland, no good craic.

Catching Up

So my evil academic project is done, pause for a moment of celebration. This means that I actually have time now to update my blog. I really am sorry it has been so lax as of late but trust me, I had a lot of stuff going on that needed to be attended to especially considering how long my entries usually are (boring I know). I didn't want to half ass my entries and so I haven't had any. But enough dwelling on my tardiness, time to start the catch up.

I am not really going to bother a whole lot with work the week after I got back from my solo holiday. The only noteworthy event was me calling numerous prop hire companies trying to get as many fridges (yes, like refrigerators) as humanly possible. This was mostly noteworthy because as anyone who knows me can attest, I usually go into a panic at the thought of calling people I don't know. However, this was incredibly easy and even somewhat fun. My favorite moment was the following dialogue between me and one prop hire man:

Man: You're from Dallas?
Me: Um, no.
Man: Then where are you from?
Me: Indiana.
Man: That's the same thing. It's all cowboy country.
Me: Not really.

Other than that, typical BAC and I still want to kill the children. Class was about class (haha) in Britain. We learned that class doesn't matter but it does. Seriously. We also got to take a test to determine our class. Seriously. We were also told that you can go up to anyone in the UK and ask them about their class. My co-workers were appalled when I asked them if it was true. Way to go Arcadia, way to go.

Friday June 26th right from work I left for Dublin to visit one of my best friends from high school. Her name is Sarah but from here on out she shall be known as Skip since that is the unfortunate nickname our Honors English 9 teacher gave her to distinguish from the two other Sarahs in the class and somehow it stuck. She is also interning though at a law firm because she is hardcore like that.

The trip went easy enough at first. I got to the train station just down the hill from BAC no problem and after just a momentary confusion about how to get collect my tickets from the machine, I had time to browse the shops before going to my platform. I found US Weekly which brought on joy not seen since the Britney-K. Fed divorce announcement. I also got 50p off the magazine for taking the MJ memorial newspaper. Whatever, 50p is 50p. Gatwick was the second stop on the line so the ride was easy and quick.

A few words about the inefficiency of Ryanair/Gatwick Airport. My online check-in boarding pass said I had to get it stamped to prove I had all the necessary visa/passport requirements. This meant I still had to wait in this enormously long line at the Ryanair desk in the terminal with all the people who needed to check bags. Why there wasn't a special express line for visa check I have no idea but I got fairly irritated as I saw all benefit to online-check in slip away. Finally, when I got to security, I noticed no one was taking off their shoes so I just assumed for some reason you didn't have to. Wrong. There was a second metal detector for shoes after you went through the first one and thought you were going to be allowed to exit. Why they couldn't just have you put your shoes on the first belt with everything else, again I don't know.

My flight was delayed by 30 minutes which turned out to be good because it allowed me to find a Pret A Manger and get some dinner before boarding. For those of you who don't know, Pret is a somewhat upscale (by that I mean expensive) sandwich and coffee chain that is as omnipresent in London and the UK as Starbucks in America. I got the cheapie ham & cheese toastie and my new obsession, salt & vinegar potato chips. I got on the flight no problem, got a window seat, and only had one other person in my three seat row. All in all, a success despite the garish yellow decor of the plane interior.

Here is where the story gets really interesting. I had Skip's roommate's phone number, the address for her apartment complex, plus the various codes to get to her room if all else failed. I got into a taxi since it was too late for the bus to be running and handed him the address I had written down. He seemed confused so I tried to call Skip but it told me I didn't have the authorization to call the number. Great. The taxi driver gets me to the correct road and drops me off outside of what he claims are the only apartments on the street so they must be the right place. Greater. He drives off and I almost immediately come to the realization that I left my phone in the backseat. Greatest. There I am at 11 at night in Dublin without any means of communication and no idea where I was. I refused to panic though and found a pay phone to try and call the number again. The phone eats my money. Ok, still not panicking. He got me to the right road so I just have to pick a direction and start walking. I do and find a student apartment complex called Shanowen House. Not Shanowen Square like Skip said but I try the entry code anyway. The door opens though begrudgingly. It immediately becomes apparent to me I am in the wrong place since all the windows are open, thus allowing anyone to enter, and no lights are on. Hey, at least I could sneak in and sleep there if nothing else. I do however notice a great deal more activity from the apartments next door. Lo and behold, it's Shanowen Square and I find Skip's apartment with no more difficulty. She is thrilled to see that I am ok since when I didn't ever call her she got really freaked. It was a great moment of my life being safe with her.

We talked, catching up and laughing, for a few hours before finally becoming too tired to go anymore. I took her extra pillow out to the loveseat in her combined living room/kitchen and made myself an L-shaped bed with the aid of a chair. I was just laying down when in burst her extremely drunk roommates accompanied by friends. Immediately, they start screaming "WHERE'S CATY?!". Apparently, my coming was a highly anticipated event.I doubt in my exhausted condition and dying-my-hair pajamas shirt I lived up to the hype. I relocated to Skip's room to sleep on her folded comforter while the drunkies desecrated the living room/kitchen.

The rest of my Dublin story will follow in the next entry. Don't want to overwhelm you guys too much. The photos that go with this entry are meant to illustrate Shanowen Square where I spent two out of my three nights in Dublin.

Solo Holiday in Cornwall: The Second Bit

So I have to apologize for how long this entry has taken. My life has been work, travel, paper, sleep, and eat for the past few weeks and nothing else. I will catch up though, I promise.

I awoke early on Sunday to get the YMCA's cheap and rather pathetic breakfast before starting off for St. Michael's Mount. I had decided rather than take a bus to Marazion that I would hike along the Southwest Coast Path for two and a half miles to get there. After some initial hardship with actually finding the path, I set off on my way. It was a lovely, bright, sunny day so perfect for being on the sea. However, I ran into an issue. The path came to a set of stairs...that were blocked by bars. The group of people in front of me climbed around the door by climbing up the slope next to the stairs and then going back over the wall. I, however, decided to take a different route. I took off my shoes and socks, rolled up my pants, and set off down some stairs to the beach. In high tide, this area is completely covered with water, however at low tide, it is a wide expanse of sand and pleasant for walking. I got to squish my toes in the sand and walked in the water when my feet wanted some frigid cold refreshment. Low tide is apparently THE time to walk your dog as practically everyone I saw had one or two with them.

St. Michael's Mount is an island in the bay with a tall cliff at the top of which sits a castle. There is a small village of about 30 people at the base of the cliff but really the castle is the majority. Since it was low tide, I crossed to the Mount on the Giant's Causeway that is covered with water at high tide. The legend goes that the Mount used to be home to the giant Cormoran and that Jack, of course, had to slay the giant to keep him from eating the townspeople. I bought my ticket and after watching an intro film about the Mount, I made my way up. All the signs said that only those in good health should attempt the climb so I thought it would be very difficult. It wasn't. You just followed the path up the hill and it wasn't very steep or far up. Along the way there were excellent views of the bay, gorgeous flowers, and ruins of medieval military lookouts from when the Mount was a fortress.

The best part about the castle is the rocky sloped lawn in front of it when you reach the end of the path. There is a wall around it with cannons with a great breeze always blowing and lots of grassy spots to sit and enjoy the view which is one of the best I have seen. I sat on a corner of the wall and looked out to sea for a good while before I went in to the castle. Ok, so I had a photo shoot too because I liked the wind blowing my hair. Don't judge.

The castle itself is underwhelming. Of course, it couldn't help but be next to all the other castles I have been to but still I expected a little more. The same family has lived at the Mount since the 1500s but the conservation of the Mount falls to the National Trust aka the blue bloods can't afford their castle anymore. There was construction going on on the North Terrace but I fell in love with the South Terrace. It is the perfect place to have a party or a wedding with lots of space, castle architecture, and the previously mentioned beautiful scenery. The castle interiors were pretty standard and boring with the exception of the mummified Egyptian cat. Apparently, collecting mummified animals was an acceptable pastime in Victorian England. Who knew?

After spending a little more time on the castle lawn, I decided to descend to look for lunch. By this time, the tide had started to come in. At high tide, a ferry service starts to and from the Mount for 1.5 pounds. The ferry had already started by the time I got down to the causeway, however some people (in direct violation of the sign posted nearby) were wading across since the water wasn't too deep yet. I had the foresight to wear my bathing suit under my clothes, so I whipped off my socks, shoes,and pants, hiked up my purse, and set off down the flooded causeway. I was not going to pay 1.5 pounds when I didn't have to. It was remarkably simple with the water getting thigh deep at its deepest and I reached end of the causeway with no harm done. I was the last person smart enough or stupid enough to attempt the crossing, but since nothing bad happened, I say smart enough. I had a good laugh at the saps who took the ferry before moving on to find a pasty.

Cornish pasties are amazing. They are portable pies filled with all manner of deliciousness. The one I got had steak, potatoes, and carrots in it. Completely delicious, filling, and not to mention cheap. I also got some chocolate Cornish ice cream to top off the meal before setting off again. The beach was flooded with the tide, so I took the path this time. It was wonderful to be walking in the sun on the beach surrounded by the beauty of Cornwall. Other than the unfortunate sight of a naked bather, the walk back was pleasant and uneventful. By the time I got back to Penzance, I was so hot that I was totally ready to jump off the seawall into the English Channel.

Of course, when I got to my favorite section of the sea wall, there was a crowd of obnoxious teens, tweens, and families there. I tried my best to ignore them as I disrobed, hid my purse beneath my clothing, and without a word jumped into the sea. Let me tell you, it is as cold as you would think it to be. Also, make sure to hold your top and blow out your nose or else your top will come up and you nose fill with saltwater. Not that that happened to me or anything. Luckily, I fixed my top beneath the water before anyone noticed. I jumped off two more times but the water was so cold and my stuff so vulnerable that I didn't actually stay in the water very long. Plus the stupid teeny girls squealing about how high up it was (it was like five feet above the water) made me severely irritated. I set off back to the YMCA to shower before seeking food.

Here again I ran into problems with traveling alone. After showering, I went back into town and spent an hour trying to find somewhere to eat. I can never make up my mind and being alone didn't help. Everywhere was too much of a bar or too expensive or wasn't clear about where to order. Finally, desperate, I settled on a Thai restaurant and had some fried rice that was supposed to have soy sauce but didn't. I was feeling down and slightly ill after my day and then the lack of sustenance so I went back to the hostel and went to bed. At 8:30. Even my middle aged Asian woman roommate was stunned I was going to bed that early. Whatever, I was tired and feeling lonely. I was also woken up a few hours later by fireworks for an unknown reason which made me incredibly cross as well.

I checked out right at 8 the next morning and set off for the bus station to explore the Minack Theatre and Land's End. I got on the special summertime only open top 300 bus and expected to enjoy the ride to Porthcurno where the Theatre is. Instead, there was severe wind, I got smacked in the face by tree branches, and the driver skipped Porthcurno and dropped us straight off at Land's End. Land's End town looked very pretty and quaint however the bus dropped us at Land's End complex which is a tacky tourist trap if ever I saw one. It houses 3-D attractions, much too expensive gift shops, and a few restaurants. It also wasn't open when we arrived and I hadn't had breakfast. I went and sat on a rock around the side of the complex to stare at the sea and cliffs until it opened.

Land's End is a lovely area. Gorgeous hills, cliffs, rocks, sea, and heath but the complex is just annoying. Once it opened, I could hear the 3-D shows going with their cackling witches and Knights of the Round Table battling. I got a cheese and onion pasty from one of the shops and then left the complex to walk along the cliffs. They have a spot where you can have your picture taken with the official Land's End signpost with the distance to your hometown but it was stupidly expensive so I passed. I was more interested in the plaques that had apparently been erected for the millennium with resolutions and promises by visitors to Land's End. The theme of most of them was to love as much as possible but there were a few interesting ones like the people who ran a home for retired show pappilons and the mother who wanted to take her family to Euro Disney.

This whole time I am surrounded by people there with their spouses, friends, children, etc. and I started to feel really alone. I saw the distance from Land's End to NYC, factored in hundreds of extra miles for Indiana, and freaked out a little about just how far I was from home and those that I love. I decided to skip the Minack, head back to Penzance on the next bus, and catch an earlier train back to London. I had had enough of being by myself plus my backpack was REALLY heavy. I still had two hours before the next bus so I wandered down to the metals craft shop in the farm right by the complex. There was a kitty outside so I stopped to pet it and got to talking with the man who made the crafts in the shop. His name was Edward and he was a very nice older man. He immediately, of course, ascertained that I was from America and started to ask me the requisite questions about how I came to be in the UK. Meanwhile, we had moved into his shop and I was looking at his rings. He told me he could custom make me any ring I liked so I chose a star ring.

I spent the rest of the time until my bus watching Edward make my ring at his work desk and talking about his days as footmen for the family living on the Mount, how he came to make silver jewelry, and the children's books he writes about Big Head the Pirate Cat. He was very nice, explaining everything to me as he did it, and just in general making me feel a whole lot better than I had felt the whole day. He also had a cat named Marley who had no fur on one of its ears so Edward coats it in suntan lotion every day to keep Marley from getting sunburn. I figure anyone willing to sunblock a cat's ear is my kind of person. I thanked him very much for the ring and talking to me and he told me I was wonderful and to have a good time the rest of my days in the UK. Feeling much better, I went to wait for the bus which came promptly and to my utter delight a train was waiting in the station to go back to London thus getting me home at 7:30 instead of 11:45. This also allowed me to relax, settle in, and put my stuff in order before going to bed which wouldn't have happened had I gotten home when I was originally supposed to.

Though the weekend ended on a somewhat sour note, I still thoroughly enjoyed the R&R. Cornwall is an absolutely beautiful place with so much to see and experience that I didn't even get to do. It restored my mind and spirits a great deal as well as teaching me that I don't like traveling on my own. It is alright during the day when there is plenty to do but once everything closes and you are left on your own, it gets kind of sad, at least for me. Activities such as a movie or the theatre are needed to prevent ennui from taking over. If ever I seek to travel alone again, I will be much more prepared, but really I would just prefer to have others with me. As long as they wanted to do exactly what I wanted to do of course :)

Solo Holiday in Cornwall: The First Bit

I awoke at 5:30 to shower, dress, and eat breakfast before catching the Tube at 6:30. I figured I'd need to be there an hour ahead of time to validate my BritRail pass and to board the train. Man, was I wrong. I got there, validated my pass, and then looked at the departure board. At London Paddington, they will only tell you which platform your train is boarding from after is has been completely cleaned and prepared for departure. This can mean you don't get your gate until a few minutes before your train is supposed to leave. I feel this is a stupid system that causes much needless stress as the clock ticks closer to your departure time and there is still no gate for you. So I had nothing to do but sit there in the freezing cold station on the frigid metal bench with all the other poor travelers hoping to get their gate in time. It was a fun time, let me tell you.

I, thankfully, got on my train in time and had two seats to myself the entire way minus about an hour when an obnoxious curly haired young teen boy sat next to me and slept on his tray table. The train took 5.5 hours and made lots of stops, so who was sitting around me was constantly changing as I was one of the very few to go all the way from London to Penzance. It wasn't bad really, very smooth with lots of gorgeous scenery to look at. I slept the first two hours laying across my seats and then read or listened to music the rest of the way.

We arrived in Penzance and I have to say it is a very nice town. It's main street is Market Jew Street which oddly enough has nothing to do with actual Jews but is taken from Cornish or something. There are lots of cute shops and bakeries and pubs and it was a straight shot down that street to my hostel. I couldn't check in until 5 so I left my bag in storage at the hostel and then took off to explore.

I made straight for the Promenade, a wide brick pedestrian thoroughfare right against the coast with benches for sitting and gazing at the ocean. I preferred to climb down some steps to the sea wall a few feet below the Promenade and sit dangling my feet above the clear water. I was shocked to see that I could see all the way to the bottom, being so used to the murky Atlantic of the Carolinas. Of course, this water was much, much colder, but that comes later. I just sat there for awhile taking in Mount's Bay and the surrounding cliffs and hillsides that contain the three towns of the bay Penzance, Newlyn, and Marazion. It was so stunning that i seriously teared up. I am getting so sentimental while I am over here.

After hanging out on the sea wall, I continued along the Promenade and passed the Jubilee Pool, an art deco enclosed seawater pool left over from the 30s. It cost to get in though so I just decided to jump in the ocean for free on my own, as is to come later. There was also the token war memorial right next to the Jubilee and a path leading down and around the Jubilee. I found my rocks on this path and sat there feeling like The Little Mermaid. I dipped my feet in the water and !@#$%, it was cold. It is just as cold as you would imagine it to be, much too cold to get in on the cloudy, windy day that it was. It was nice to just sit there on the rock and hear the sea crash around me and look out to St. Michael's Mount across the bay.

I eventually came to the quay and the end of the Promenade. There was a cafe and tacky beach shop called Buccaneers. I found it comforting to know that tacky beach shops selling overprices sea shells and pirate flags are international rather than being a solely Carolina thing. I then went to the cafe next door to get a snack. I picked up a Sprite out of the fridge and ordered a caramel slice, which is a shortbread cookie topped with a layer of solid caramel. The lady behind the counter looked at me funny and asked "Are you sure?" as if this was the strangest request she had ever had. I didn't know what else to do but say yes and pay. It was delicious but as my life would have it, I wasn't supposed to sit on the picnic tables outside because they had just arrived and weren't secure. I picked up my stuff to move inside only to have my caramel slice slip from my plate and drop to the floor. I took a moment to mourn my caramel slice before exiting the cafe to continue my walk.

Having walked the length of the water line, I turned uphill to explore Market Jew Street. I liked a lot of stuff I saw but it all was either actually too expensive or too expensive for my miserly taste which doesn't want to pay more than 5 pounds for anything. I also managed to find the cemetery and wandered about looking at interesting gravestones as we all know I like to do. Really, would a visit anywhere be complete without a trip to a cemetery? I think not. I turned back to the sea to make my "Yes Mom, I'm alive, No, no one has kidnapped me." phone call and then ate two jumbo sausages with chips at a seafront cafe for dinner. I had been fantasizing about sausage when I was hungry on the train so it was perfect. I have also discovered something rather odd: I like salt, pepper, and vinegar on my fries more than ketchup. Not something I would have expected of myself.

I then headed for my hostel to check in at last. If you need a hostel to stay at in Penzance, I highly recommend the YMCA Cornwall. The staff was extremely friendly and helpful plus students stay really cheap. A flash of the ISIC card and I got a bed for roughly $25 for two nights. The room itself was much cleaner than the one at Hostel Blue Planet and had a desk and a large armoire with lots of shelf space so I could actually unpack and arrange my stuff. It was a four person room with two bunk beds but I only had one roommate. She was a middle aged Asian woman who I never spoke to and who did nothing but chew loudly, belch, and mutter to herself. She also rose very early and went to bed very early which suited me since it meant less time with the two of us being awake in the room. We didn't have our own bathroom but the women's in the hall was clean so that was nice. I didn't have to pay for sheets and a towel was only 50p so again, it put Blue Planet to shame. I was very satisfied with my lodgings.

Here is where I ran into the flaw of traveling alone. What do you do at night? I had been perfectly content during the day but what was I to do when everything was closed and the sun was going down? I didn't want to go to a pub by myself and I hadn't seen a theater or a cinema so I just headed back to the Promenade. I called Jon but my phone credit ran out since my calling card didn't mean free minutes on my cell phone which I had been unaware of. This meant I had to return to the hostel, buy 30 minutes on their Internet, and top up my phone. This really annoyed me since I wasn't expecting to have to top up the entire time I was here. Stupid 20p a minute calls and calling card that doesn't actually do what it says. I was pretty tired from my early rising, long train, and then hours of walking around so I decided to go to bed at like 9:30. I had no troubles falling asleep in my top bunk though the pillow was rather overstuffed.

My first day was pretty chill, as I had wanted it to be. It was nice to be away from the hustle and bustle of a big city like London or Paris. The scenery was breathtaking and it was nice to just wander and gaze. I will complete the story of my weekend tomorrow but now I must go and work on my evil academic project some more and shower and go to sleep. Work in the morning is going to seem so difficult after my lovely holiday.

Back to the Grind

Work days, oh work days, what to say about my work days? Wednesday was like any other day except for an interesting conversation I had with one of my co-workers. Basically he told me that this was the worst time for me to be at the BAC because no shows are going on, no one at the BAC has time to teach me anything, and it is just overall not a good place to put interns. Oh goody. Thanks for that. Really made the rest of the day feel great let me tell you. Thank goodness I got to leave early for class. Class was all about different management models and so on and then we watched an episode of the UK version of The Apprentice. Apparently everything you ever need to learn can be taught through a reality show as this is the second class where we have watched one. I am waiting for Paris Hilton's British BFF to come up on the schedule to teach us about British-American relations or something. As is our after class tradition, we went out to a pub, more specifically the Prince Albert, scene of my infamous Aussie run in. Luckily, this time there was no such activity. I discovered a great love for Pimm's, a liquor mixed with Sprite with slices of fresh citrus fruits added in. SO FREAKIN' DELICIOUS. I had like four glasses from our two pitchers. We got to playing Truth or Dare somehow and Lindsay was dared to talk to this balding man at the bar. He ended up being an extremely friendly and drunk Italian man who went on about how Lindsay was his favorite name and how sexy we all were. That was slightly awkward so we extricated ourselves back to Palace Court.

My grocery trip on Thursday was made a little more thrilling by the discovery of a 1.78 2 litre bottle of hard cider. I am in love with hard cider and now for much less than the price of a pint at a pub, I now have 2 litres. Being of legal drinking age here is awesome. Work was spent in setting up for the youth rehearsal I stage manage for and then the rehearsal itself. The kids were surprisingly more focused today so I didn't want to kill them quite as much as I usually do. However, the show doesn't seem to be any closer to being ready to rehearse than two weeks ago when I started, so once again I was pretty useless to the whole preceding besides setting up and taking down the equipment. Speaking of, when I was taking down the projection screen and putting it up, this other group came in to the space to rehearse. They all looked at me like I was some kind of obnoxious intruder who had no business being there and their directors asked me if I could move all the stuff. As if that wasn't exactly what I was trying to do anyway. They continued to look annoyed until I finally got everything out. Sorry if my cleaning up so you can work in a clear space is getting in the way but I think you would prefer I do that rather than leave it all there and not make any noise. Ugh, theatre people. (Yes, I see the irony in that statement)

Today was an extraordinarily light day. The only job I did in the morning was help my manager for the day, Rob, put up some drapes to black out a dressing room. This particular performance group had a large selection of food in the dressing room: biscuits, croissants, brownies, chips, Ritz crackers, fruit, etc. It was just Rob and I so Rob says "Do you think it would be wrong of me to steal a croissant?" and I replied "I was thinking the same exact thing." So job completed we nipped a bit of food from them and then stole down to the tech office (pictured above) to enjoy our spoils before they could find out. Sh, don't tell anyone. My afternoon was spent up many a ladder. I had to take down four drapes in the Grand Hall which meant going to the top of a very tall and rickety ladder that kept oscillating and making me fear for my life and limbs. I also got mocked by Rob and Matt for being concerned about breaking my nails untying knots but really I was concerned about it being painful, not the aesthetic of it. Easy to pick on the only girl in a boy's club. Jerks. Rob and I then put up some banners outside the building which brought us to about 5 and Rob sent me home early due to their not really being much to do, as had been the case the whole day. I took it as a good sign of things to come for this weekend.

I am leaving early in the morning for Penzance (yes, as in the Pirates of) to spend a peaceful weekend hiking along cliffs and lazing on beaches before I have to come back and really buckle down on the evil academic project. It is the first time I will be holidaying by myself and I will be in a hostel dorm, so I am a little uneasy about it all. Knock on wood and Drew, but I think I can handle myself for three days and two nights. I hope you are all breathlessly awaiting my return to regale you with my stories and photographs.

What's Wrong with London

Schoolchildren. Massive amounts of little children wearing Day-Glo vests to avoid getting lost/hit by cars walking around in swarms led by loud, obnoxious teachers desperately trying to corral the little monsters and failing. They are everywhere. They are one the Tube, in the Victoria & Albert, in the Natural History Museum, even on effing Earl's Court Road. There is nowhere to go to be safe from them and their annoying chatter about which of the Fashion exhibits they would wear if they were in "the old days" or their constant hogging of any hands on exhibits in Human Biology. I had to fight so hard not to carry one off by their braid and leaving them to rot in the middle of a busy street. When did so many children appear? Why must they all wear matching uniforms and walk around in large groups? Don't they have anything better to do than go on field trips? Shudder. Ok, rant over.

So today I returned to the Victoria & Albert and Natural History Museum since I had the whole day and didn't have a companion who needed to be somewhere. I immediately made for the Fashion exhibit at the V&A since it was what I most wanted to see. It was a great exhibit with both historical and more modern pieces. I, of course, most enjoyed the evening gowns and wedding dresses, but the evolution of underwear through the years was also interesting. I definitely found several dresses I really wanted to own myself. I then went to the Jewelry exhibit to admire all the sparkly things and even got to design my own ring on one of the computer terminals though adiamondisforever.com is much better for that. Hey, shut up, I like sparkly things. The next stop had to be the Theatre & Performance exhibit. The first thing you see what you walk in is an uber-realistic rhinoceros costume from some play where becoming a Fascist is represented by becoming a rhino. It was really scary to look for too long at the costume because you seriously expected it to come to life and start charging you. I kept a safe distance just in case it decided to go Jumanji on me. It was a really interesting exhibit with all manner of items from promotional posters to scale model sets to costumes (my favorite of course) to photos of famous thespians to footage of actual performances. I totally geeked out and basked in the love of theatre. I also saw the Paintings and though the collection was small it was some of the best stuff I have seen and I've been to the Louvre and the National Gallery. I prefer paintings with stories behind them and most of them were like that so that probably accounts for it.

I finally got museum fatigue after realizing I had been in there for about 3 hours so I popped over to the Natural History Museum for a quick look around the Human Biology exhibit. And there I encountered something even more terrifying than the rhinoceros. In fact, it may been one of the scariest things I have ever seen and I will probably have nightmares tonight. Naturally, Human Biology starts with explaining conception, pregnancy, and birth. Gross, but whatever. So I am just innocently walking from one room to another only to come face to face with an enormous fetus. Seriously, a 7 months along fetus 8 times larger than an actual 7 month old fetus. It was this huge alien looking thing on the wall accompanied by a loud heartbeat meant to simulate how the baby hears its mother's heartbeat. I was just in shock for a good 10 seconds, staring in horror before I finally managed to take a picture and then flee for my life. Who thought that was a good idea? WHO?! I had to skip the rest of that part of the exhibit so I could stop having heart palpitations. Luckily everything after that was fairly mundane stuff about how we move, memory, hormones, learning, etc and I was able to put the terror behind me. I briefly ventured to the Minerals exhibit to find more sparkly things and then went into "The Vault" where they have the really good sparkly things including the Star of South Africa diamond. I seriously stood there for two minutes just moving my head back and forth to watch it sparkle.

Since I was in the neighborhood, I set off for Earl's Court to see if I could find the pub Maddie and Mom frequented the summer we lived here. I didn't end up finding it (Mom and I later Google mapped it and realized I just didn't go far enough down the street which yet again proves my lack of looking skills) and instead bought a 75p baguette and noshed on that as I window shopped. I went into two secondhand clothing stores by Notting Hill Gate on the way home but I have never really liked shopping by myself so I didn't look hard or try anything on. Will have to get someone to go back to Portobello and Camden sometime so I buy awesome London clothing.

Well tomorrow I have to return to work after 5 days off and also go to class straight from work. This will be much better than last week since there is no Tube strike but I still don't much like Wednesdays with constantly being on the move from 9 in the morning to 9 at night. I anticipate my third week of work being much the same as the first two so I see manual labor and brat teens in my future. I also realize that I haven't updated on my summer goals in two weeks so I will close this time with just that.
1. Stop biting the inside of my lip (Trying so hard but still not there)
2. Beat my dependency on daily diet soda (Accomplished, I am going to strike this from the list from now on)
3. Make friends despite my socially fearful nature (Accomplished, have lots of friends though not at the level of my friends at home yet)
4. Go for a jog/walk in Hyde Park every day that I am not touring (Starting tomorrow I am going to try to jog every day because it has either been touring or working so I have not done this yet)
5. Take full advantage of my 18 days working at Battersea Arts Centre (I do want I'm told, does that count?)
6. Try new foods that I ordinarily wouldn't, especially British Isles specialties (Chicken tikka masala is excellent but other than that I don't go out to eat enough)
7. Acquire a working knowledge of British slang much like Australian last summer (Say Cool or Cheers or Aces a lot. My co-workers do.)
8. Go to Paris, Dublin, Cornwall, and Chawton (Paris is a check. Plans in place for Cornwall and Dublin. Chawton TBD.)
9. Keep a private journal in addition to this blog (Haven't felt the need to write so I haven't. I think this is a fail besides recording expenses, bus routes, and things I want to remember when my blog is not handy.)
10. Have the time of my life (Been having a good time lately)

C'est Paris! Part Deux

Now to finish my story while sweating it out in my incredibly hot room which shouldn't be so hot considering it is only about 68 degrees outside. Ah the joys of top floor rooms with no air conditioning.

I was the first to wake up the next morning so I got in the shower. It was actually bigger than the ones we have at Palace Court but it had a weird feature. You pushed in the knob to get the water but after a few seconds it popped back out and the water stopped. Thus you had to restart your water countless times during the shower which made it quite annoying and seem very inefficient. I have to say when I stepped out it was much like showering in China where you didn't actually feel cleaner but just kind of hoped you were.

After the other girls plus Adrian showered in our shower, we set off. Another strange feature of this hostel is you can't take your key with you when you leave but must leave it at reception to retrieve when you return. I suppose this makes sense if you are staying with strangers and don't want to have to wait for them to get back in your room but since we were all together I didn't think it really had a point. We left our keys and went for breakfast. It was omelettes all around and Molly got laughed at for requesting ketchup. Not really in a malicious way but laughed at all the same. Then we made for the Eiffel Tower.

I hate beneath the Eiffel Tower. I really do. It completely destroys any kind of romance Eiffel may have had at one point but really doesn't now. First of all there are about a bazillion people all waiting in horrendously long lines for the various elevators. It didn't help that when we were there only two of them were working. Then there are the armies of gypsies going around asking "Speak English?" and if you are gullible enough to say yes they hand you an index card with some sob story written on it in English and they won't go away until you give them money. Thanks to Jamie Goedde's Facebook note on just this subject I knew not to mistake them for lost tourists needing directions and to just ignore them. Still they were extremely annoying. Lastly, there are the armies of black/middle eastern men (this is not racism it is true) jingling illegal Eiffel Tower trinkets and asking you to buy them. Then a police officer will come up and they will run away halfheartedly but the police officer never even tries to catch them. All of this combined makes underneath the Eiffel Tower a less than exciting experience.

The monster lines made us decide to take the stairs since that line was significantly shorter than the ones for the elevators. So I ended up climbing 700 stairs up and 700 down and here is the scary thing: it wasn't hard. I know, I know, me, Caty Natt, who was constantly being yelled at in gym class for not doing anything had no problems climbing 700 stairs. I blame climbing up six flights of stairs every day to my room plus the manual labor I do at work plus all the walking I do to various sights around London. This was when I fully realized just how good for me London has been the past 3 weeks. I have to say it felt kind of cool.

The views from the Eiffel Tower were of course beautiful and I could pick out most of the other major landmarks such as Notre Dame and Sacre Couer. You had to pay extra to go up to the third platform and the line was heinous so I along with Molly, Lindsay, and Jin decided that the 1st and 2nd were good enough for us and we would go wait for Phil and Adrian at the bottom. We sat on some steps next to one of the four pillars and people watched. Really this meant watching naive tourists get swindled out of money by the gypsies and harassed by the illegal Eiffel Tower trinket sellers. It was kind of amusing to watch the trinket sellers run away from the police but eventually that too wore out. We were also cursed by a gypsy when we ignored her "Speak English?" which made us somewhat uncomfortable especially in the wake of Drag Me to Hell . We then decided to head to the Champs de Mars, the field right in front of the Eiffel Tower, to wait for Phil and Adrian and take pictures. Sadly, I didn't get the stereotypical picture I wanted with a guy twirling me around while the camera is slightly tilted and black and white but then again it has to be raining too and it was a beautiful day out. So no obnoxious L'Amour Paris or whatever poster picture for me.

We were then supposed to check out the catacombes, which was my pick on the itinerary. Well, after having an enormous chicken lunch, we got to the catacombes entrance and there was a long line. No problem we thought, it was 3:30 and it didn't close until 5. However, the line doesn't move. Literally in 20 minutes we moved maybe 3 feet. Then this guy who works at the catacombes comes up and says they stop letting people in at 4 and we won't make it through the line in time. Great. I was pissed. Not at anyone but just at the world for denying me what I had most wanted to do in Paris. So we had to move on to the Pantheon and not get to see tunnels of dead people's bones. The world is cruel.

The Pantheon was pretty as most churches are, though the Pantheon is no longer a church but a national monument or something. The most interesting part was the large number of notables that have tombs in the crypt. Rousseau, Voltaire, Zola, Dumas, Hugo, Curie, Braille, all buried there. Rousseau and Voltaire had the grandest tombs even the architect of the Pantheon didn't get as ornate a tomb as them. Somehow I missed the commemoration plaque to Antoine de Saint Exupery, writer of Le Petit Prince , which kind of made me angry once I found out it was there.

When we left the Pantheon it was still early so we headed for Sacre Coeur and Montmartre. There were probably hundreds of people on the Butte Montmartre basking in the sunshine in front of Sacre Coeur. After climbing the various stairs to reach the top of the hill and Sacre Coeur itself, we came upon two street performers. They were basically French Budapi Brothers except they didn't juggle but messed around with cups on strings and a crystal ball. Hard to explain really. They captivated most of the crowd being somewhat good-looking but I was fairly unimpressed.

We went inside Sacre Coeur which was beautiful like all churches, especially Catholic ones, are. This one was notable though because we came in during what I presume was a service and nuns were singing our entire visit. No hills were alive however. There was also a huge painting on a dome above the altar of Jesus that was made up of a large amount of gold paint. It was pretty incredible. Though I admit this visit also made me sad because I saw all of this beauty and work dedicated to Christianity but there are so many other religions with equal beauty and work and yet some or all of them have to be wrong. That made me sad thinking about which ones were wrong and if any of them were right. Really deep philosophical stuff. Perfect to prepare me for our next stop at the Pigalle red light district.

Pigalle was ostensibly for the Moulin Rouge but then we came acress Sexodrome. Seriously, that was what the store was called. It was a massive three story building with mannequins performing sex acts in the window displays. We all laughed and took pictures but then Jin decided to go in. So Phil, Adrian, and I followed suit while Lindsay and Molly went to find the Moulin Rouge. Sexodrome was a disappointment. It seemed to be like any other adult shop you could find in America except much more expensive. The boys and I indulged our inner immaturity for a little while, pointing and laughing at the various toys and DVDs for sale, and then went to find Lindsay and Molly. We found the Moulin Rouge and then went to eat a few blocks away. I decided to get a banana split for dinner since I really hadn't had any ice cream in a good while and thoroughly enjoyed it. This was one of the best meals we'd had with everyone enjoying their pasta, French bread, and wine.

At last, we were ready to head back to the hostel. We stopped for a few more drinks at a local sidewalk cafe where I enjoyed some delicious hard cider from a very pretty green jug. Then we, of course, got crepes again. The crepe seller loved that we were American and kept going on and on about Obama and how awesome he was. We all played along with his enthusiasm until we got our crepes and then we took off fairly quickly. Another full day of touring meant we were all asleep within an hour, though our neighbors were even louder and more obnoxious than the ones the night before.

In the morning we simply woke up, went to the train station, got breakfast, and left. CGT was still there making noise to see us off and I once again fell asleep against the headrest and really can't tell you anything about taking the Eurostar except you will in all likelihood pass out for the entire journey. My overall impression of Paris is that it is highly overrated and overhyped but then again most places are. Of course I was only there for a weekend nor did I have my significant other with me so maybe that is the key to finding the true beauty and romance of Paris. I was really glad to be back in London in fact we all were. We all talked about how we felt like we were truly coming home after being on vacation when really London is our vacation too. It is just different when you live, work, and study somewhere rather than just sightseeing. I do feel very comfortable and at home in London and should I ever get the opportunity I would live here in an instant.

Here I have caught you all up with my weekend. Yesterday after returning and today are probably going to be spent playing catch up with work I haven't done and making the most of time to myself since Lacey won't return with her group from Paris until late tonight. Maybe I will do something worth talking about on Tuesday but for now it is just chill time.