London: Monday-Wednesday

1/7/10 12:34 am
where to begin!?
I guess I’ll start from the beginning

On Tuesday Bradders dropped me off at Newark. After checking my bag and realizing I had to buy cigarettes (during which I was on channel 9 news for new jersey..just in the the background) I went through security and was headed for my gate. On the way I saw a group of people, but after deciding to walk past, heard someone mention new paltz. Lo and behold, it was the group, waiting on Andrea, our professor, to arrive. So we sat and talked and bought some fruit and ate, and finally Andrea arrived. We moved to the gate, only to learn that our flight was delayed by about half an hour due to security checks on the plane. Then we boarded. Of course, we had to walk through first class, which has an air bar which serves as “a place where travelers can meet and greet with other travelers”. Then upper economy, which got purple blankets and had purple lights over the windows. Then us. Not too bad at first; red blankets and pillows on each seat. Then we took off. It was intimidating, and by far the largest plane I’ve been on. I guess it’s inertia that makes the heavier planes shift side to side on take off and landing, but it was bad… anyways, so we took off. There were tvs in the backs of each seat, and we were able to pick from a plethora of movies or television series to watch and hopefully enjoy. I was about to watch something, but our first meal was being served. I got the chicken, which came with green beans and potatoes. The potatoes were awesome, the green beans: horribly bland, and the chicken…well, I took one bite (didn’t spit it out because I was in public) and didn’t eat the rest. I watched Julie and Julia, as Brad had enjoyed it so much and highly recommended it do the same. And I did enjoy it, except the person in front of me pushed their seat back so, just like on laptops, the screen was kind of dull and I couldn’t see the full picture. While the movie was playing, I checked the “time remaining” as I was already becoming restless. Wow. A whole five and a half hours remaining. So when the movie was over (which was fabulous, by the way) I picked another. I was tempted by “cloudy with a chance of meatballs” but chose “the hangover” instead, as I figured it’d be a good sleepy-time movie. Half-way through, I was so agitated I cut it off.. and there was still four hours remaining. I was so agitated, in fact, that I considered, taking off my bra, and even taking off my pants and wrapping my blanket around me, but I did neither. So when I checked the time remaining and there were still four hours, I decided to go the restroom for a change of scenery and a chance to stretch my legs. I tried to pull on my boots, but my feet would not fit; they were literally three times my normal size. But I went to the bathroom anyways. I must admit: I considered pulling out the smoke detector, not necessarily because I was craving nicotine because I wasn’t, but more because with each slow minute, I was becoming more and more agitated. Needless to say, I’d like to live my life without committing any felonies, so I went back to my seat. I tried to sleep, I really did. It just wasn’t happening. My agitation had created such a burning in my chest I knew it was best to accept that I wouldn’t sleep and just sit and take it. Finally, and I mean FINALLY, the lights came on for breakfast. After a blueberry muffin and about another thirty minutes, we began our descent. Looking through the gray clouds, I saw the ground, and just like I thought, everything kind of looked the same.
And we landed, with just as much wobble as we had in take off, but we were on the ground. Surprisingly, the plane cleared out quickly, but maybe it wasn’t such a surprise. I mean, I couldn’t have been the only person to have absolutely hated the flight. So the group made its way to baggage claim. We got our bags and made it outside to wait for our bus, which would pick us up and take us to our flats. It was a wonderful ride with lots of sights on the way. I took the pictures I could, but of course, the glare from the bus window played with my patience. And thank God I had brought my Nalgene bottle. I was completely dehydrated, running on no sleep, and had the beginnings of a migraine. But we got to the flats. I pulled my thirty-six pound bag off the bus and we headed to the flats. The boys stopped on the second floor. The girls however made it all the way to the top floor. Oh, and by the way, we’re in London, and the buildings are so old there are no elevators. So we lugged our bags up 8 sets of stairs.
After unpacking, we had the rest of the day free. A group of us went to explore. First we wanted to exchange currency. We shopped around and finally settled on a place that didn’t have the best currency exchange rate. So I changed a bit of my monies, and next we were off to the tube to pick up an oyster card. I bought a card for three pounds, and put seventeen pounds for travel on the card. After a quick sandwich for lunch, one of my roommates, Erica, and I decided to explore while pretty much everyone else went to do their own thing. So Erica and I went to Starbucks and got our three pound coffees, and then went to explore. We walked and walked and walked, and most importantly, we laughed and laughed and laughed. One lady actually came up to us and asked us for directions, but after hearing us speak, went her own way. But at least four people over the last couple days thought we were locals or from Wales or Scotland (and don’t worry I didn’t voice my distaste for Scotland). After losing our way, we stopped three police people, two men and one woman, asking about how to get to Baker’s Row, to which they replied they had no clue where that was. In fact, it wasn’t listed on their booklets, and even the post office had never heard of it. We were definitely not near the flat, and supposedly in the heart of the real city of London. So after making about four huge circles around the hospital, Montague Square Road, and St. Paul’s Cathedral, we figured it out. So instead of making it home at 5, we made it home at 7, which was good because we wanted to meet our flat mates at 7 anyways to go out for dinner and drinks.
Erica and I had spotted every pub, bank, and tube station within three miles of the flat. So when everyone was discussing where to go, we knew we wanted to go to Gunmaker for dinner and drinks, and then head to The Coach and Horses for drinks, as this particular pub is literally 100 feet away from our front door. So at Gunmaker, Racheal and I split fish and chips (six pounds each) and I had a half of cider. After dinner, we went to the second pub where I decided to have a pint of cider. This cider, on tap as it usually is, was much much better than the first cider. Officially my favorite drink in London. After a few drinks and a few laughs, we came back to the flat, washed our faces, brushed our teeth, and hit the hay.
The most interesting thing about the day was that time seemed to pass normally, but when we would find out the time it was at home, we could not get over how early it was there. It felt like for every hour here, only fifteen minutes passed in America. I kept saying, “I cannot believe this. My boyfriend is probably just waking up” or “Oh my, Brad is just now finishing his first appointment”.
Wednesday we woke up at 8, as our group was meeting at 8:30 to be to school at 9. Unfortunately, ONE person made us late. I mean, 17 girls were outside waiting, and one boy held us up. But after a brisk twenty-minute walk, we arrived at school, on Great Russell Street. We had picture IDs made, a quick orientation about the group that’s responsible for the classrooms and flats, and then real class started. My roommates and I were not finished about talking to this lady who gave the orientation, though. For 6 roommates, there are only 5 keys. No one knew how to set up the internet, our landlines do not work, and our shower seems to only understand the concept of hot or cold, nothing in between and nothing that lasts more than 15 seconds. Don’t get me wrong. I could live in a tent and be fine, and by no means am I trying to whine or complain, but at the price my family paid for this trip, I expect the basics to be covered.
What really concerned by Tuesday night was that no one even knew where our professor, and her husband, were staying. No address, no telephone number… nada. I mean, I get it: she wants us to be independent and figure things out on our own and become knowledgeable travelers and that’s great. I didn’t sign up for this trip to be hounded. But at the same time, I felt like it was a bit of a safety issue. But luckily there were no issues, so it didn’t really matter.
Class was great. We talked about being theatre critiques and went over an itinerary with our local helper and all of the questions we had about transportation and locations of events and places.
Here’s what did bug me. Out of, I guess, 25 people, I am the only smoker. As I’ve told Erica, I’m extremely insecure about it. I think cigarettes are completely nasty. They taste gross, the smell even worse, they’re expensive, and the habit is not at all attractive. But it’s a habit I picked up early, and continued as a way of holding on to my past, and I DID become addicted, and it’s unfortunate. But the last thing I need is people, especially the ones I don’t even know and vice versa, to make comments about it. A couple were made at the airport, but I was so tired and craving one so badly I didn’t even care. But today during class, we were given a break because “a couple of [us] look like we need to use the restroom and a couple of [us] look like we need a cigarette”. First of all, I don’t need a cigarette after a two hour class. Yes, I do want a cigarette after not smoking for ten hours (including security, boarding, and flight). Secondly, what exactly is the look for wanting a cigarette. I mean, if I have to pee, I guess I’ll do a pee pee dance or grab my crotch. But if I want a cigarette, which mind you I didn’t, what would I do? Pretend my pen’s a cigarette or start rabidly biting my fingernails? Well, I just bought brand new pens, so I definitely didn’t do the first, and my manicure from Christmas still looks nice, so I’m definitely not chewing on my nails. So, if you think of it, please let me know what looking like you want a cigarette looks like.
After class, we had to go to a museum of our choice and get proof we went. Erica and I went to another currency exchange place which had a better rate and then went to lunch. I had a cheeseburger. It was thin, which is how I prefer them, and cheap. And when you order a cheeseburger, know two things: you don’t need to tell them how you want it cooked (it comes one way: cooked) and you’ll get exactly what you order (a bun, a beef patty, and a slice of cheese). I added mustard (which is very spicy, but delicious, in London), ketchup, and the lettuce from the salad that came as my side and had a nice Coke (which comes with no ice). Lunch was fabulous.
So we then made our way to the British Museum, which is free, as most museums in London are. This museum is absolutely huge. We found a map, and picked a specific gallery we wanted to see: Egypt and the Mummies. I probably took more pictures at the museum than I have in London altogether. Erica and I saw real mummies, mummified animals (like cats and birds), mummified babies, skeletons and individual bones, and even un-mummified bodies. We also walked through the Enlightenment gallery, which was a total letdown, and the Living and Dying gallery, which wasn’t what I expected, but was really cool in it’s own right. There was an extremely long tapestry that was full of prescription pills. I took a couple photographs, but they don’t even come close to capturing the length or impact of this particular exhibit. After the museum, we made our way toward the West End Theatres. After a brief but chilly walk, we were there. And, on a sidenote, have I mentioned that London is not, delightfully, what I expected at all? I expected a New York City, just more expensive. London is not crowded, except for rush hours or right before a performance starts. The streets are crowded with cars, the sidewalks aren’t packed with people, and the pubs close at eleven (but ten if they aren’t busy). But it’s quaint, and full of history, and it’s so nice to have to be a part of the hustle and bustle of a huge city. Anyways, we had a questionnaire with fifteen questions about the shows and theatres we had to fill out, so we walked around, learning our way and learning about West End through the questionnaire. When we finished, it was already a little after 5, and we were quite a ways away from the flat. So instead of returning home to shower and get ready for Twelfth Night at 7:30, we decided to stay and walk around. Best decision ever.
I knew I wouldn’t spend a lot of money on shopping on this trip, but when it’s cold and you run into deals, you really have no choice. I got a pair of leather gloves for five pounds, a purple plaid 100% cashmere scarf for 15 pounds, a super cute watch with a green sparkly wristband for fifteen pounds, and a pair of green shoes that almost look like Keds for ten pounds. Awesome. I got all of my shopping out of the way, and got it all at a really, really great price. I mean, leather and cashmere. Wa wa wee woo.
So at 7:20, Erica and I were making our way to the theatre. And what do we pass? St. Martin-in-the-Fields church, the entrance to the crypt, AND a bar with the name YATESs. First, I was so relieved to find where Trafalgar Square is. I had no clue where I would be going Saturday or what it looked like in person, etc. Now I know exactly where I’m going. And the bar looked awesome. I told Erica I would be going to have a drink after the show. Luckily, she’s such a great companion, she decided she would accompany me.
The show was great. I wasn’t sure how much I would get into it, but in real life, the complexity of the language doesn’t matter. You can see who’s who and who’s doing or saying what and who loves whom, etc. The acting was great. I think I kind of fell in love with Malvolio. The transformation of his character throughout the play was just amazing. I mean, at first he was just a stiff old man, and by the end you were laughing with him, or feeling bad for him. I won’t lie, I fell asleep for a second. I woke up and someone had gotten married, but thanks to highschool English it wasn’t too hard to catch up.
Question: Is there a single place in London where the plumbing works? During intermission, I, as well as a line of ladies, took turns using a stall that chose not to flush. The gag reflex I thought I didn’t have showed up and showed me who was boss. Not too fun, but I only had to deal with it for about 15 seconds sooo…
*
Twelfth Night
The playwright was trying to depict a story that the audience could relate to. Each person can relate to being in love, and the obstacles we must overcome and the lengths we’ll go to in order to be in love, or be around the person whom we love. He was successful in doing this through comedic writing and relatable characters. The playwright did this wonderfully. Shakespeare himself was always successful in his attempts in writing and then conveying his points. This play was absolutely worth doing. There’s no better place to see Shakespearian works than in London. We’re in Shakespeare’s stomping ground. The actors were able to convey the story and the emotions, despite the fact of the use of Old English language. Although we were seated in the top tier, the performers made efforts to still connect with the audience and were successful. Actors would look up or interact with the audience, lower and upper levels. And some of the props, like when the actors were hiding in the trees, brought the performers closer to (and higher up like) the audience. I thought the staging was good, although I would have preferred to see more of the entrances and exits utilized. The theatre wasn’t huge, so I thought that the performers and viewers had an intimate environment in which we could relate and been involved and relate to the story in an even better way. The only thing that distracted me was that the seats, although tiered which made for impeccable viewing, were close together, and my legs went to sleep or cramped easily and often. This play had a linear structure, so although the language was hard to follow, the story was not. Although the language was stylized the acting was naturalistic. The playwright was successful in manipulating my emotions. I found myself laughing at the jokes because they weren’t corny and seemed natural. I found myself empathizing with all of the characters in multiple ways, be it being in love and being rejected, being in love and doing anything to fight for it, or even the characters that were made fun of or lied to. I thought that Malvolio gave the most successful performance. He transformed from a curmudgeonly old man into an old man acting young and in love, and doing foolish things like dressing in yellow tights and crossed guarders for the woman he was in love with. The Fool was also effective because he didn’t try too hard for a laugh, and he didn’t act foolish or like a dope. He was the most natural character. The dynamic performers and characters stood out because they took risks. The Fool, for example, chose to be light-hearted and silly despite the drama around him. And Malvolio took risks, even by making a fool of himself, for the chance to be in love. Even though the actors portrayed their characters well, I felt that the production employed both non-traditional and traditional casting. One of the characters had tattoos, which was effective because he seemed to be a rogue, almost a bum. I agreed with the choices for the cast, and I liked that the brother and sister did look like twins. I did not think that the “spectacle” in this play was used to cover up flaws. The only spectacle I was aware of was the part of the stage that was built into a wave with a moving ocean projected onto it. There was nothing to cover up back there, and I thought it was used simply to enhance the scenery and make it more believe, and also to distinguish the castle from the beach, since none of the scenery actually changed. I didn’t particularly like the ocean because the projection wasn’t clear or bright, and it was hard to tell what it was. I particularly liked that the actors performed the music on stage. However, I thought the lighting design was poorly done. The cyc was under- utilized and either remained whit or a weird bright blue. I do feel that the design of the production supported the play, because it wasn’t overwhelming or too flashy and didn’t take away from the performance. The one thing that I will always remember about this play is when one character got mad and chopped off the top of the cone tree and the top flew about ten feet. It was funny, and I can’t figure out how the top flew so far. The trees were my favorite. I can’t figure out what they were made of and how the top that was cut off stuck back on with no problem, and when the three men were in the tree, they “came through” the branches and were able to go back inside the tree and didn’t create a whole in the leaves.
*
After the show, I was headed straight for the club. And boy were there clubs. Unlike the “historic” (aka rundown and dungy) pubs, the clubs in Trafalgar Square are bright and loud and stay open until 3 AM. Several promoters wanted us to come to their club, but with cover charges of twenty-five pounds, there just wasn’t any way I would go in. And I was on a mission. But I had to think “What if YATESs charges? Can I tell them it’s my last name and I just want a beer?” We got there at 10:45. Cover charge started at 11. We were fine. For 7 pounds Erica, Eric, and I split a pitcher of Sex on the Beach. The lights were cool, the music was awesome, and everyone was dancing. It was just a fun place to be. So for the second night in a row, I was happy; happy to be in London, happy to be making friends, and happy that I have been blessed with such a great opportunity. At quarter to twelve, we headed for the tube, and after one change in train, got off and walked a short distance back to our flat.
I had had such a great day, but I was still really stressed. I had intended on keeping my blog, but no one had internet access yet because we just found out how to hook it up today. Our phones in our flat don’t work, and I told my family to read my blog and I’d keep in contact with them through e-mail. I haven’t talked to anyone, and there’s no sign that I’m alive, and most importantly, having a blast. Thankfully, one of the guys let me use his calling card so I could just speak to my mom. After a phone call that was under two minutes, I felt relieved, and much happier. I’m not homesick. I mean, I do see things and think of certain people or wish certain people could be here and see and experience certain things with me, but I’m not pining to get home. I’m having a blast. But I didn’t feel good not having a way to keep in touch. I mean, I don’t even know how to call collect, and even if I did, the phones don’t work in our flat. I was ready to put on my new green kicks and find a payphone, but thanks to a kind classmate, none of that was necessary. I wish I had listened to God say “Linky, don’t get your panties in a wad”.
So, it’s 3:35 am here. I’m getting up at 8:20 to go … well I don’t even know where I’m going. But my blog is caught up, I talked to my mom, and I have some warm gloves. All is good in the world, but especially great in London ☺