Train travel itself isn’t bad. Taking the train from Paris to Florence was absolutely beautiful—cruising by small French towns beside deep blue lakes and autumnal mountains. The transitions are what cause enough stress to ruin your day and leave you completely exhausted by the end of it.
Because not only am I dragging myself onto the train, but myself and a huge backpack, which with the combined weight of my computer, large camera, books, journals, and whatever else won’t fit into my suitcase, adds about two feet of length to my body when I wear it on my back. Not only that, but I have my 50+ pounds suitcase to maneuver over the large gap between the platform and the train itself and then up the awkward stairs. We quickly learned that the best way to get over this hurdle was to toss our suitcases into the train ahead of us, then follow them up. Next, I had to fit myself down the thin aisles, backing up and dragging my suitcase sideways to find my seat, apologizing profusely to the innocent people I inevitably hit in the face with my backpack. Once I found my seat, I had to figure out a place to fit my suitcase—overhead compartment where I can keep an eye on it but where it may fall and kill someone, or in a storage place at the end of the car where it could be stolen? On the first train ride, we debated, while standing in all of the impatient French people’s way. A random Asian man appeared suddenly, and helped us hoist our impossibly heavy suitcases up into the overhead compartment. He then disappeared, out of our car, and we never saw him again. Train angel? Maybe.
Getting off the train is a whole other animal. First, we had to try and understand the voice on the overhead speakers, as it spoke in four different languages telling us which stop we were at. However, the voice happened to get quiet right when it mentioned the station, so we could hear, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be arriving at Genova Station in 5 minutes”, and just had to peer intently out the window to see the signs. Once we knew we were at our stop, the scrambling began again—get all pieces of oversized luggage to the door of the train without clocking anyone or getting in their way. Finally, I had to tackle the stairs again, learning quickly that to fit oneself, ones multiple handbags/backpacks, and ones suitcases out of the train door and down the steps all at once is disastrous and results in getting stuck. By the end of the day, I had it figured. Leaving the suitcase on the train right by the door, I move myself out of the train, down the steps, safely over the gap and onto the platform. Then reach back and hoist the dang thing to safety behind me.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Welcome to France?
We flew into Paris, then drove right back out of it to go to Bayeux, from which to take a tour of the beaches at Normandy. France greeted us with clouds and rain, dusty old cathedrals and a language barrier for the first time on the trip. Going up to order a sandwich for dinner, I’d forgotten that I had no idea how to say “I’ll take one of those” or “Can I have a water with that, please”?
Another thing that welcomed us to France was two of our group members having their passports and credit cards stolen from their hotel rooms in Bayeux. Not only did it create a lot of hassle—dealings with embassies and French police—but it made me feel unsafe and unsettled in this new country.
Touring the beaches at Normandy and the American cemetery there was a moving experience. It rained that day, fitting weather for reflecting on the battles of D-Day and the many men that died there. I learned that the Americans and British landed on those beaches expecting to lose more than half their men—but went in anyway. It’s that kind of bravery that blows my mind—I wonder if I have anything like that inside me, and what kind of people do.
That night, we had a banquet at a restaurant in Bayeux, a birthday celebration for one of the girls and also a kind of closing to the first half of the semester with Dr. Ritchie. We all said nice things about him and his wife and snapped photos with each other, and I felt the community that this group has developed over the past two months. It was hard to say goodbye to him as he was such an integral part of this trip for me.
From Bayeux, it was on to Paris. My first vision of the Eiffel Tower was on the bus as we drove along the Seine, and the sun shone through the clouds in rays. I didn’t think Paris would hold much sway over me, but that first sight of the Eiffel Tower stirred up the feeling of excitement and romance of a new, historical city.
The time in Paris was spent writing a paper, eating at sidewalk cafes, touring the Lourve (the Mona Lisa and many others), taking a bus tour, and stressing out about planning free travel. The last day in Paris, we were on our own, and literally spent the whole day dragging our luggage across the city on the Metro, staying in a crappy hotel, and running around figuring out our train tickets for the next day. Though the city had it’s allure, I was so relieved to sink into my seat on the train to Florence and say goodbye.
Another thing that welcomed us to France was two of our group members having their passports and credit cards stolen from their hotel rooms in Bayeux. Not only did it create a lot of hassle—dealings with embassies and French police—but it made me feel unsafe and unsettled in this new country.
Touring the beaches at Normandy and the American cemetery there was a moving experience. It rained that day, fitting weather for reflecting on the battles of D-Day and the many men that died there. I learned that the Americans and British landed on those beaches expecting to lose more than half their men—but went in anyway. It’s that kind of bravery that blows my mind—I wonder if I have anything like that inside me, and what kind of people do.
That night, we had a banquet at a restaurant in Bayeux, a birthday celebration for one of the girls and also a kind of closing to the first half of the semester with Dr. Ritchie. We all said nice things about him and his wife and snapped photos with each other, and I felt the community that this group has developed over the past two months. It was hard to say goodbye to him as he was such an integral part of this trip for me.
From Bayeux, it was on to Paris. My first vision of the Eiffel Tower was on the bus as we drove along the Seine, and the sun shone through the clouds in rays. I didn’t think Paris would hold much sway over me, but that first sight of the Eiffel Tower stirred up the feeling of excitement and romance of a new, historical city.
The time in Paris was spent writing a paper, eating at sidewalk cafes, touring the Lourve (the Mona Lisa and many others), taking a bus tour, and stressing out about planning free travel. The last day in Paris, we were on our own, and literally spent the whole day dragging our luggage across the city on the Metro, staying in a crappy hotel, and running around figuring out our train tickets for the next day. Though the city had it’s allure, I was so relieved to sink into my seat on the train to Florence and say goodbye.
Monday, October 12, 2009
TO ARTHUR!!! *Ireland*
I’ve been putting off blogging about Ireland because I just don’t know how I can possibly
express all of the things it was to me, all of the things that happened there. But it is the next place on my journey, and it’s about time. We went to three main places—Dublin, Sligo, and Belfast—and each place was completely different from the last but all so intrinsically Irish.
Dublin
We began the stay in Dublin, staying in a nice hotel off of O’Connell Street, north of the Liffey around where James Joyce, one of the writers we are studying, lived during his childhood. I got a different sense in Dublin than any of the other cities visited so far. It was more gritty—the people had a sort of hardened look around their eyes, which makes sense. Irish history is very confusing, but to sum it all up, they’ve had a hard time of it. The political, social, and religious history has been riddled with violence and turmoil since the late 1500s, and it is that history that the Irish people have struggled through … and it has made them tough.
The first day there, I went to the National Gallery (how many of those have I been to now?), and saw an Edvard Munch exhibit there that was very moving for me. From there, me and some friends saw the Oscar Wilde statue and walked up Grafton Street, which is the main shopping area. That night, four of us girls went out to a nice dinner with our professor and his wife, who have been so great to get to know. We split from them afterward and walked down Temple Bar, which is the main pub area in Dublin. Throughout our night, I came to find that Dubliners (ie people from Dublin) are some of the most friendly people I’d encountered so far, and also the most convicted on political and social matters. They are more informed on American and World politics than I am! I met some really wonderful, memorable people, with strong philosophies about life. These people really made my time in Dublin.
The second day, our group actually left the city to go to Glendalough, a lovely old monastery set on acres of mountainous green land in the Irish countryside. I went off by my myself for much of the time, walking and writing and taking photos. We got back in the city to find that it was “Guinness Day”—the Irish celebration of the 250th anniversary of Guinness beer. The tradition is that at 5:59 PM, everyone in Dublin is supposed to raise a pint of Guinness honor of Arthur Guinness, the inventor. Then they spend the whole rest of the night drinking Guinness. At 5:59, I was in my hotel room with the windows open and heard a huge cheer throughout the whole city. It was a pretty cool, Irish moment—even if it was just all about beer.
Many members of our group chose this night to go on a Literary Pub Tour—where these actors lead a group of people to 4 different pubs that were once frequented by Irish authors of old. Of course, since it was Guinness Day, the pubs were very crowded. It was a fun time though, and the actors did a great job adding a literary flair to a pub tour.
The last day in Dublin, I headed to the Irish Writers Museum and walked around a bit more. That night was “Culture Night”, so a few friends and I went to an outdoor music and poetry performance for a little while.
Sligo
At Sligo, which is on the west coast of Ireland, we stayed in rural self catering cottages at a beautiful bed and breakfast. It was set in the woods and basically a few hundred meters from the ocean (Sligo Bay). I walked that beach many times, and never saw another soul, so it was like my own private beach. Since we were back out of the city, it meant more schoolwork and classes—we wrote two papers in our time there. The rest of the time was spent hanging out with great roommates and friends, walking on the beach, climbing another mountain (not nearly as big as Snowdon, but still cool), reading W.B. Yeats, and cooking meals together. Also, it was my 21st birthday while in Sligo! My friends and I had dinner together, and then the whole group learned traditional Irish dancing from this great Irish couple. It was a perfect birthday activity—Irish dancing was complicated at first but we all caught on and laughed pretty much the whole time. Afterward, some of us went for a quick swim in the Irish Sea to cool off. It worked.
Belfast
Belfast was completely different from any other place since instead of being together with the whole England Term group, we split off to stay with host families. We were connected with families who go to Fisherwick Presbyterian Church in Belfast, and I, along with my friend Katy, stayed with the Kennedy family. The parents were probably in their early 40s, Peter and Carolyn, both doctors, and the kids were Adam, 12, and Juliette, 9. They had such a nice house, in a little more suburban area. Katy and I had our own room that smelled wonderful, and Carolyn did so much to make us feel at home and give us everything we’d been missing—warm meals, tea all the time, long showers, huge fluffy towels, and hot water bottles to sleep with. The kids adored us and we adored them, and hung out with them the whole time. Peter took us on a driving tour of Belfast, we watched one of Adam’s rugby games, and played outside with the kids in the glorious, windy fall weather. It was refreshing to interact with a family and ask cultural questions we couldn’t ask else where. For example, I kept finding people in Ireland and sometimes England would, as a greeting as, “Are you alright?” To me, that sounds like “Are you Ok??? Is something wrong?” so I would always answer, “Um, yeah?” but figured it must mean basically “How are you?” I asked my host dad, and he said the proper response is “Grand!” So, there you go.
I also got a few more lessons in Irish history and am slowly putting the pieces together of what happened between the Catholics (marginalized and put in lower-class) and Protestants (elite), those who wanted Ireland to rule themselves and those who wanted to be united with England. It’s all very complex and I don’t think I could ever understand all of it.
All in all, the best thing about Ireland was the people. Out of all the places I’ve been so far, they were the most apt to strike up conversations, the most hospitable, and the most memorable. On this trip, we’ve been moving so much it’s been hard to have good conversations with people from these places. In Ireland, for some reason, it happened so easily and its something I’ll always remember about the Irish.
express all of the things it was to me, all of the things that happened there. But it is the next place on my journey, and it’s about time. We went to three main places—Dublin, Sligo, and Belfast—and each place was completely different from the last but all so intrinsically Irish.
Dublin
We began the stay in Dublin, staying in a nice hotel off of O’Connell Street, north of the Liffey around where James Joyce, one of the writers we are studying, lived during his childhood. I got a different sense in Dublin than any of the other cities visited so far. It was more gritty—the people had a sort of hardened look around their eyes, which makes sense. Irish history is very confusing, but to sum it all up, they’ve had a hard time of it. The political, social, and religious history has been riddled with violence and turmoil since the late 1500s, and it is that history that the Irish people have struggled through … and it has made them tough.
The first day there, I went to the National Gallery (how many of those have I been to now?), and saw an Edvard Munch exhibit there that was very moving for me. From there, me and some friends saw the Oscar Wilde statue and walked up Grafton Street, which is the main shopping area. That night, four of us girls went out to a nice dinner with our professor and his wife, who have been so great to get to know. We split from them afterward and walked down Temple Bar, which is the main pub area in Dublin. Throughout our night, I came to find that Dubliners (ie people from Dublin) are some of the most friendly people I’d encountered so far, and also the most convicted on political and social matters. They are more informed on American and World politics than I am! I met some really wonderful, memorable people, with strong philosophies about life. These people really made my time in Dublin.
The second day, our group actually left the city to go to Glendalough, a lovely old monastery set on acres of mountainous green land in the Irish countryside. I went off by my myself for much of the time, walking and writing and taking photos. We got back in the city to find that it was “Guinness Day”—the Irish celebration of the 250th anniversary of Guinness beer. The tradition is that at 5:59 PM, everyone in Dublin is supposed to raise a pint of Guinness honor of Arthur Guinness, the inventor. Then they spend the whole rest of the night drinking Guinness. At 5:59, I was in my hotel room with the windows open and heard a huge cheer throughout the whole city. It was a pretty cool, Irish moment—even if it was just all about beer.
Many members of our group chose this night to go on a Literary Pub Tour—where these actors lead a group of people to 4 different pubs that were once frequented by Irish authors of old. Of course, since it was Guinness Day, the pubs were very crowded. It was a fun time though, and the actors did a great job adding a literary flair to a pub tour.
The last day in Dublin, I headed to the Irish Writers Museum and walked around a bit more. That night was “Culture Night”, so a few friends and I went to an outdoor music and poetry performance for a little while.
Sligo
At Sligo, which is on the west coast of Ireland, we stayed in rural self catering cottages at a beautiful bed and breakfast. It was set in the woods and basically a few hundred meters from the ocean (Sligo Bay). I walked that beach many times, and never saw another soul, so it was like my own private beach. Since we were back out of the city, it meant more schoolwork and classes—we wrote two papers in our time there. The rest of the time was spent hanging out with great roommates and friends, walking on the beach, climbing another mountain (not nearly as big as Snowdon, but still cool), reading W.B. Yeats, and cooking meals together. Also, it was my 21st birthday while in Sligo! My friends and I had dinner together, and then the whole group learned traditional Irish dancing from this great Irish couple. It was a perfect birthday activity—Irish dancing was complicated at first but we all caught on and laughed pretty much the whole time. Afterward, some of us went for a quick swim in the Irish Sea to cool off. It worked.
Belfast
Belfast was completely different from any other place since instead of being together with the whole England Term group, we split off to stay with host families. We were connected with families who go to Fisherwick Presbyterian Church in Belfast, and I, along with my friend Katy, stayed with the Kennedy family. The parents were probably in their early 40s, Peter and Carolyn, both doctors, and the kids were Adam, 12, and Juliette, 9. They had such a nice house, in a little more suburban area. Katy and I had our own room that smelled wonderful, and Carolyn did so much to make us feel at home and give us everything we’d been missing—warm meals, tea all the time, long showers, huge fluffy towels, and hot water bottles to sleep with. The kids adored us and we adored them, and hung out with them the whole time. Peter took us on a driving tour of Belfast, we watched one of Adam’s rugby games, and played outside with the kids in the glorious, windy fall weather. It was refreshing to interact with a family and ask cultural questions we couldn’t ask else where. For example, I kept finding people in Ireland and sometimes England would, as a greeting as, “Are you alright?” To me, that sounds like “Are you Ok??? Is something wrong?” so I would always answer, “Um, yeah?” but figured it must mean basically “How are you?” I asked my host dad, and he said the proper response is “Grand!” So, there you go.
I also got a few more lessons in Irish history and am slowly putting the pieces together of what happened between the Catholics (marginalized and put in lower-class) and Protestants (elite), those who wanted Ireland to rule themselves and those who wanted to be united with England. It’s all very complex and I don’t think I could ever understand all of it.
All in all, the best thing about Ireland was the people. Out of all the places I’ve been so far, they were the most apt to strike up conversations, the most hospitable, and the most memorable. On this trip, we’ve been moving so much it’s been hard to have good conversations with people from these places. In Ireland, for some reason, it happened so easily and its something I’ll always remember about the Irish.
Monday, October 5, 2009
High Leigh and Cambridge
From London, we headed back out to the countryside to a conference center, High Leigh, in Hoddeston. The location was prime for walking over the hills and laying out on the lawn journalling, and night games. It felt like a church retreat, in a way. During our time there, we had to write a paper and spent more time in class. We had beautiful weather and I enjoyed hanging out with my friends and learning.
For an idea of the schedule of the day at High Leigh, and the amount of time spent eating, here is an example:
Wake up
-Eat Breakfast
Class
-Morning tea and biscuits
Class
-Lunch
Break
-Afternoon tea and biscuits
break
-Dinner
break
-EVENING REFRESHMENT to cap it all off.
We left High Leigh after about 5 days and stopped at Cambridge for two nights to explore the university. We toured the colleges and had a birthday party that night.
For an idea of the schedule of the day at High Leigh, and the amount of time spent eating, here is an example:
Wake up
-Eat Breakfast
Class
-Morning tea and biscuits
Class
-Lunch
Break
-Afternoon tea and biscuits
break
-Dinner
break
-EVENING REFRESHMENT to cap it all off.
We left High Leigh after about 5 days and stopped at Cambridge for two nights to explore the university. We toured the colleges and had a birthday party that night.
London the first time
From St. Deniol's Library, we moved all too quickly into the big city of London. I had some apprehension about navigating the city and figuring it out, once things got going I came to love it.
The first full day, we went on a typical, touristy “Hop on, Hop off” tour of London on a double decker bus. On that tour, I viewed Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, and the London Eye. A friend and I took a cruise on the Thames up to the Tower of London, and walked over to the Tate Modern, where we saw many modern artists we’d studied in school.
The next day, I wandered through the British Museum and got to see the "Elgin Marbles"--famous and controversial grecian sculptures orginally from the Parthenon. I enjoyed them immensely--half of the figures were a play by play of some man fighting a centuar, and losing. Except none of them had heads. After this, I did a little shopping on Oxford Street and explored more on foot. That evening, our group went to the Agape Arabic Christian Center, a small Arabic bookstore in an Arabic Quarter of London. While there, we got to hear from several Christian Arabs about their lives and ministry to muslims around them.
I went to church the following morning at an Evangelical church, a very interesting service that reminded me of church at home. Afterwards, a few friends and I went to Hyde Park, a busy tree lined park in central London. With the sounds of an ABBA concert echoing through the green park, we enjoyed some time journaling and reading. Later that night, a bunch of our group went to the Thames Festival, an outdoor art festival along the River Thames. Outside the Tate Modern, they had created several art installations using fire, and had little fires around the yard and along the river. With the live music, festive food, arts and crafts, and cool dry air, it was a perfect night to be out.
The entirity of my day on Monday ended up to be trying to find a place to get a hip London haircut. And I did!
Tuesday was our day at the Globe Theater, starting with an insiders tour and class and ending with a performance of "As You Like It". It was pouring rain. The tour and class were interesting--we got to learn about how Shakespeare would have directed a play in his time. We had a break then, during which a few friends and I travelled across London to go to a cheap clothes store and buy Ben's Cookies--an england term legacy we are carrying on. Then we headed back to the Globe for one of my favorite nights of the trip. "As You Like It" was wonderful. The energy and talent of the actors, the way they interacted with the crowd, the atmostphere of the historic globe theater, and the story itself made for an absolutely fantastic performance and a wonderful night for our last one in London.
The first full day, we went on a typical, touristy “Hop on, Hop off” tour of London on a double decker bus. On that tour, I viewed Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, and the London Eye. A friend and I took a cruise on the Thames up to the Tower of London, and walked over to the Tate Modern, where we saw many modern artists we’d studied in school.
The next day, I wandered through the British Museum and got to see the "Elgin Marbles"--famous and controversial grecian sculptures orginally from the Parthenon. I enjoyed them immensely--half of the figures were a play by play of some man fighting a centuar, and losing. Except none of them had heads. After this, I did a little shopping on Oxford Street and explored more on foot. That evening, our group went to the Agape Arabic Christian Center, a small Arabic bookstore in an Arabic Quarter of London. While there, we got to hear from several Christian Arabs about their lives and ministry to muslims around them.
I went to church the following morning at an Evangelical church, a very interesting service that reminded me of church at home. Afterwards, a few friends and I went to Hyde Park, a busy tree lined park in central London. With the sounds of an ABBA concert echoing through the green park, we enjoyed some time journaling and reading. Later that night, a bunch of our group went to the Thames Festival, an outdoor art festival along the River Thames. Outside the Tate Modern, they had created several art installations using fire, and had little fires around the yard and along the river. With the live music, festive food, arts and crafts, and cool dry air, it was a perfect night to be out.
The entirity of my day on Monday ended up to be trying to find a place to get a hip London haircut. And I did!
Tuesday was our day at the Globe Theater, starting with an insiders tour and class and ending with a performance of "As You Like It". It was pouring rain. The tour and class were interesting--we got to learn about how Shakespeare would have directed a play in his time. We had a break then, during which a few friends and I travelled across London to go to a cheap clothes store and buy Ben's Cookies--an england term legacy we are carrying on. Then we headed back to the Globe for one of my favorite nights of the trip. "As You Like It" was wonderful. The energy and talent of the actors, the way they interacted with the crowd, the atmostphere of the historic globe theater, and the story itself made for an absolutely fantastic performance and a wonderful night for our last one in London.
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