When you think of British traditons do you think of tea and crumpets? Of course you do! But do you know what crumpets are? You will now!
I am here to tell you, Crumpets are best described as pure British deliciousness! They're nothing fancy, really just a type of bread or muffin that are readily available in packages at every grocery store I've been to so far. But for a carb fiend like me they are an oh-so-tasty treat!
Fancy a cup of tea and a crumpet?
I bought a package from Sainsbury's on a whim the other day just because they're so darn British and I'd never actually had a crumpet before. The package recomends browning them just a little more than they already are on a hot skillet, presumably to make them a little bit toasty. Honestly, if this were America and there was a toaster in the near vicinity I'd probably be very inclined to pop them in there. I, however, don't have a toaster or a skilet so I usually just put them in the microwave for a second to make them all warm and steamy (though this step is completely optional). Then I like to pour a nice layer of raspberry jam on top which I'm pretty sure is not at all what they are intended for because the package says something about greens and goat cheese... plus, the jam sort of leaks through the bottom and always ends up getting my hands all sticky. Not the classiest method of crumpet preparation, I'm sure, but it gets the job done!
MY crumpet and PG Tips... Mmmm!
Secretly, I think crumpets might actually be the same thing as english muffins. They are very similar in size, shape, and possesion of nooks and crannies. And doesn't it just seem like and American thing to do to adopt another nation's treat and then forget the name and just call it an English muffin when trying to decribe it to our friends? British biscuit anyone?
Regardless of what they are or how you are supposed to serve them, crumpets are definitely my favorite British thing for the day and I may very well go eat (another) one! Now if only I could get my hands on some devonshire cream *swoon*!
I had an amazing weekend adventuring with Sarah and I can't wait to tell you all about it! We did and saw a lot of really great things so that post is going to take me a little while to write and put together. Until then I thought I would share with you my mini-adventure from today!
I planned for today to be kind of a lazy day to recover from all of the walking of the weekend and general insanity that was last week. I let myself sleep in nice and late then lazed around my room for even a while longer. When I felt good and rested I decided to set to work on getting a few supplies that I would need for the first day of classes tomorrow (that's right, I don't have class on Mondays!). So I walked to the stationer (basically an office store) to get a very few basic things like notebooks and envelopes with the guidance of Yelp and the map function on my trusty iPhone. After missing at least half of the streets I was supposed to turn on, spending a lot of time back tracking, and finally finding the store and getting only the most bare bones supplies I headed for home already yawning and ready to go back into lazy bum mode.
When I arrived at my street I randomly decided that it was the right time to finally take a look around the other side of the street and see what things lay the in opposite direction of my school and the shopping district. I am so glad I did because look what I found!
p.s. you can click on the pics to see them bigger
As it turns out, just behind the building across from mine is Regent's Canal. That explains why I can see a sign for the Isligton Boat Club from my window. The canal isn't much more than a wide, probably deep, slow moving river but in a place that is all city it's a lovely change of scenery.
Just a little further down the road I found the Graham Street park. There is a little patch of grass, a wonderfully scented garden, a modest playground, and lots benches looking out onto the canal and the little row boats moored outside the boat club (apparently it's closed on Mondays). It is so much quieter here than it is at my building which is right off a busy street. I will definitley be spending some lunches on these benches!
Feeling pleased with myself at having found such a quaint park (sorry, there really is no better word for it), I headed out and decided to just walk up to the next street before turning back for my own building as the only thing I saw any further was residential areas. At the very next cross street I noticed that you could go down to a path right next to the canal a lot like at Cherry Creek back in Denver. However, unlike Cherry Creek, here, the canal was lined with an array of beautifully painted wooden boats that appeared to be house boats of some kind. Can you imagine what a lifestyle that must be?! I'm really happy to have found such a calm, secluded area so close to home!
And that is the story of today's mini adventure. Stay tuned for a much longer story about this weekend's much bigger adventure!
Where am I? Where are you? And where are all the street signs???
Welcome back to the final installment of the story of my journey to London. When we left off I had just ended the most terrifying, exhausting, and overwhelming travel experience of my life and had made it to my new residence, Liberty Hall. Here's what happened next:
When I arrived at Liberty Hall it was nearing midnight, I fumbled my two heavy bags out of the cab and dragged them up to the door which was apparently locked. The man working at the desk buzzed me in and when I told him I would be living there and needed to get signed in he honestly laughed, not in a mean way at all more out of shock I think. I told him that I had had several travel issues and didn't mean to arrive so late and luckily he decided that he would open my room for me so I could sleep there for the night. Thank goodness because I really had no back up plan. Sleep on the bench in the lobby until morning?
So he lets me into my room which is actually rather nicely appointed, perhaps a bit smaller than those at DU but it has a huge desk unit and it's own bathroom and shower! I took a few of the essentials out of my suitcase and tried to plug in my computer and phone to charge so I could let everyone back home know I made it. I had bought a UK to US power converter before I left but it turned out to be the wrong kind some how and doesn't even kind of fit into the outlets in my room. With my phone almost dead and in desperation for contact I tried my power converter in the outlets above the sink in my bathroom labeled "shavers only". It sort of almost kind of fit and if I held it just right and put my laptop in the sink and plugged my phone into that it charged a little bit. I only got it to charge about a quarter of the way before I had to give up on that and try to get things a little bit organized so I could get to sleep, it didn't really work but I did get my bed put together. So with piles of stuff all around me and my only connection to home losing battery I plopped down and tried to get to sleep on my new, very firm mattress. Unfortunately, I'm feeling totally overwhelmed at this point and even though I'm dead tired from the traveling, the stress has gone to my head and I can't sleep. I tossed and turned for a while and finally fell asleep despite the noisy neighbors in the hallways. At least tomorrow I would have orientation and get to meet some people....
Wrong again!!!
I vaguely remember my alarm going off at 6:00 the next day. I didn't need to be at my orientation until 10:00 but I really wanted allow myself lots of time to get all checked in and find my way to the meeting place. I was actually sleeping fairly soundly so I decided to roll my alarm over for another hour, still plenty of time! I may have actually done this twice, I was way too groggy to remember much of anything (expect I do remember my door being open at some point because the cleaning staff didn't know anyone was in the room yet... there was a vacuum involved?) Either way apparently something went wrong in one of my bleary-eyed alarm adjustments because the next time I woke up it was 11 freaking 30, I was supposed to have been at my orientation and hour and a half ago!!! With my stomach in a knot at yet another problem to attend to I scrambled to get dressed and ran out the door. I decided that even if it meant being even more late to orientation I had to check into my room officially before I left, I was afraid that if I didn't they would have thrown all my stuff out by the time I got back that evening. I went up to the desk and tried to act like I wasn't a hysterical mess while the nice lady working that morning gave me some paperwork to fill out and went over a few room related basics. Luckily, it only took a second and the desk lady gave me a map and directions to my school.
Now, remember that when I arrived the previous night it was completely dark so I had no orientation to anything at all. What's more, I was looking for the street signs on posts on the corners rather than haphazardly affixed to sides of buildings and fences as is more common here. And that my friends is how I found myself spending my first waking hours in London wandering around lost, determined, and a little frantic. The block my dorm is on (no one calls them blocks here by the way, that's purely American) is sort of a funky little triangle shaped thing and the main intersection is about 6 streets all coming in and turning at unusual angles. This is where I got confused because instead of turning slightly right onto the road that was marked Moorgate (even though I never saw that sign) I barged straight ahead onto what I now know is Central street. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I got tragically turned around and had to consult 3 or 4 roadside neighborhood maps but eventually I saw a sign pointing to City University shortly followed by a large brick building with the City University crest. I was so happy! Now to find the door...
When I finally made it inside I was a solid 2 hours late. It's orientation week for all the incoming students at City so there were student volunteers on nearly every corner to help those of us who looked lost... like me! They very kindly helped me to find room A130 but, lo and behold, when I got there it was completely empty. According to my orientation schedule they were on the campus tour, something that a person of my navigational prowess really would have rather not missed. I decided that it would probably be best just to wait for them to come back because the schedule said they should return to that room in just about an hour and all of the info people I asked agreed. So I sat there and sent out a few facebook messages asking for pity from those back home. I found my way to a little university food stop and was able to get an orange juice and a bottle of water which tasted like the fountain of youth and would have to be my lunch since I missed the orientation lunch. By the time I got back the rest of the international orientees were heading back in and I found Dr. Julia McDonald, the study abroad adviser, at the front of the room. I introduced myself to her and apologized for being so late explaining that I had experienced just about every travel problem you could think of.
And this is where things finally start getting better; Julia was incredibly nice about the whole thing and made me feel better about missing orientation right away. I then settled in and listened to speeches from representatives from security, the library, sports, etc. After those, we broke into 3 groups and went on a mini walking tour in the area right around our school campus. We didn't see too much but one thing that stands out in my mind was a memorial for William Wallace near the place that he was apparently tortured to death but is now a cute little park. We got back to the Uni (as the Brits say) about 2 hours later and I mingled a little while they set up a nice wine and cheese reception for all of us. You know I was stoked to see cheese! And before you ask, no I didn't have any wine. I know that I don't have to be 21 to drink here (even though I'll be 21 in 2 days :) ) but having never even had a more than a sip of wine before I decided that now, with my nerves more frayed than a shoelace with the plastic tip cracked off, was not the best time to have a whole glass not knowing what it would do to me (Ha!). From there I was able to walk back to Liberty with some fellow orientees who helped me not get lost. I was still wiped out and didn't even consider going to the house party that a lot of other people were headed to in favor of getting some food, taking a shower, and hitting the sack. I was still feeling very stressed, homesick, and lonely and wishing that my first solo plane trip and first time out of the country had gone better at that point.
Though it is still a little hard to get to sleep some nights this trip is getting exponentially better every day. I am currently in the middle of a weekend of London adventure with my good friend Sarah who I had been looking forward to seeing ever since I crossed the boarder (and before). I'll report in on that part in the near future but for now I leave you with the knowledge that I am in fact still alive and I haven't gotten lost, mugged, or killed yet! And this:
My first meal in London wasn't the traditional pub meal I
had hoped for but shepherd's pie is very British... even if
it is frozen.... right?
Thanks for following my harrowing tale of survival all the way from Denver to London! Stay tuned for more stories of adventure!
Hello again my friends. I know that if you have been reading this blog for any length of time at all you will have expected me to update with tales of my journey to London much sooner than this. Due to a host of unforeseen complications, the least of which being having no Internet connection, I just couldn't... until now!
Actually I wasn't even going to do it now, I was going to take a very much needed nap before having to venture across town to go to an audition but the fire drill (which we apparently failed and will have to do again) ruined that plan... I wasn't even wearing pants!
A lot has happened in the past 4 days since I left for London so I think it will be best to split it all up into two separate posts to get caught up.
Part 1:
Getting There
Flight 110 Direct from Newark to Chaos!
I had booked this plane trip literally months in advance. I followed all the guidelines in my trusty study abroad hand book to make sure I arrived a day earlier than my orientation started to give myself a little time but not too much, to arrive early in the day so I wouldn't be disoriented trying to travel to my destination in the dark, and even to have a decent sized layover between flights so as to be sure I didn't miss any connections. It's too bad basically none of that happened.
The original plan was to fly out of Denver at 10:00 a.m., arrive at Newark Liberty International Airport at 3:45-ish then fly out of there to London Heathrow airport at 6:25. That had me set to arrive in London at 6:45 the next morning. Then, my dear friend Sarah who is also studying abroad in London right now had graciously agreed to meet me at the airport and ride the tube with me to my dorm and hang out for a bit. It was going to be a perfect and low stress day of adjustment. If only...
I left my house a little after 7:00 that morning after tearful goodbyes with my parents and my pets. I have honestly never left them for anywhere close to this long! Then Mike drove me to the airport and tried to make me feel better in the car by repeatedly assuring me that it was all going to be fine. It didn't really work because I was still a weepy mess when we said goodbye outside of the security checkpoint an hour later.
There's cliff waiting to board the first plane and looking
nonchalant as ever.
From there I made a quick top at a Jamba Juice that was absolutely beckoning to me and found my gate. I waited there and texted back and forth with a few people until the plane left right on time at 10:00. Now you see, I don't deal with stress well and even though I was really more nervous than sad I just couldn't stop sniffling. It's just my body's natural (and obnoxious) response to 95% of all feelings. As the plane took off the wing dipped just enough to show me a beautiful view of the Denver skyline and our wonderful Rocky Mountains through the widow that I had traded my aisle seat for with a girl who apparently didn't take to flying well. That was the moment I realized that not only would I miss all the people there, I would also miss my beloved hometown tons!
That was a 3 and a half hour trip that went as smoothly as anyone could hope but I guess that is where my luck began to run out. When we got off in Newark I decided to find my next gate just to be on the safe side and then go get a snack. When I got to my gate it said it's next flight was for Amsterdam, wrong, don't want to go there. So I checked the departure boards and found the new gate and checked with the man at the desk there and even though he confirmed it I'm paranoid so I asked the airline representatives too. Yep, got the right gate. I then circled way back to the other end of the airport to get a soothing tea and maybe a snack for the plane from Starbucks. By the time I got back to my gate I just had a few minutes to text out my last goodbyes and board the plane.
I was more nervous this time because this was going to be a much longer flight, 6-7 hours, and we would have to fly over the ocean. But things seemed to be going well untill one of the flight attendants and the first officer started darting up and down the aisle looking worried. About 2 hours into our flight we got the announcement that one of the electrical heating elements in one of the emergency exits had broken and was now emitting the lovely scent of electrical smoke and leaving a scorch mark on the door. Thank you to the passenger who pointed that out. Since no one really knew what was wrong with it or if it would get worse somewhere over the ocean we had to turn back and land again in Newark. Then, shortly before we begin our landing descent, the pilot comes back on to tell us that our plane was carrying enough fuel to get us to London and we hadn't burned off or dumped much of it at all before we had to land again. Apparently planes aren't really supposed to land when they are weighed down with hundreds of gallons of highly explosive jet fuel that will put strain on the braking system and possibly cause the brakes to overheat and/or burn. So we had to have the full fire crew follow us down the runway just incase we turned into a firey death explosion. Comforting. I guess I wasn't the only one feeling a wee bit tense about the landing because whe we finally touched ground many of my fellow passengers even clapped.
So 4 hours from when we left we were right back where we started. We were told as we got off the plane that one gate over there was another plane that we would board as soon as it was checked and stocked. Well the plane was there but it turns out that there are rules about how long a flight crew can go with out rest so we were rescheduled yet agian this time not until 8:45 the next morning! Ugh, so while the crew went and napped in some special airport rest area we were given the option to stay and get a meal voucher or go to a hotel. By the time I got through the line it was already almost 1:00 in the morning and with a 30 minute shuttle ride to the hotel plus however long it took to check in only to have to leave by about 5:00 a.m. to get back in time to get through security and back to our gate. 3 hours just didn't seem worth it so that's how I ended up trying to sleep on the floor in an airport in between very sad and pathetic calls and texts to and from my mom. Floors are not comfy, airports are loud and every 15 minutes a voice tells you not to leave your bags alone, and airport gates are really cold. After tying to charge my phone and computer for a while at a charging station in another gate I finally stumbled back to the gate with my fellow flight 110 prisoners at about 2:00 a.m. and plopped down on the floor in between the last empty row of seats, there were bodies everywhere man! At some point in the night a nice airline lady covered me up with a blanket and left me a pillow, neither of which really helped anything but still... it was a nice gesture.
this is what Newark airport looks like in the wee hours
of the morning. The blur is pretty acurate because that's
about how well my eyes could see at that point.
I got up around 6 the next morning and waited for the shops to open again so I could once again seek comfort in a venti Zen tea. By this time my cohort of Flight 110 passengers had some kind of unspoken bond, we recognized each other and smiled. Even though there were the usual few dramatic outbursts at the desk attendants no one was too angry, just tired and a little edgy. The flight crew was going to have to be extra nice to us.
After what felt like forever we finally boarded the flight that we all sincerely hoped and prayed would take us to London at 8:45 that morning. Luckily that flight was about a million times better than our last try though everyone on board was clearly nervous and completely tired. I have aisle seats for all of my flights on the trip and though I was originally a little dismayed to see that I would be spending the 6 hours trying too avoid too much contact with the largish Jewish man sitting next to me. As it turns out, the woman who was sitting in the widow seat found a seat open near a friend a few rows up and so she didn't join us on the second flight allowing Mr. Wiess (I heard a flight attendant say it when they brought his kosher meal, what?) to have the window seat and a lot more elbow room for both of us. He and I made small talk a bit he was a nice guy and he turned out to be one of the very few people not completely ticked off about the whole delay, very zen of him.
I barely needed any of the multitude of things I brought to keep me entertained (which is regretable because I really hated lugging that carry on around) because they have spiffy little TVs in the back of each seat and you can pick and choose from a whole bunch of TV shows and movies, I watched Kung Fu Panda 2 and a few tv episodes. The coolest thing abot the screens was that they also gave you all the stats about your flight like where you were and how long it would take to get there.
It was about this point when I realized just how far away London really is.
Once I finally got on the ground it was a relatively short wait in customs where the man was clearly exasperated with a girl who had none of her things together and didn't even ask to see any of my extra documentation which I had so readily prepared. Miraculously, my bag was just coming around the corner when I got to baggage reclaim, I was sure it would be lost with all the flight issues! After hefting that crazy heavy thing out of the way I made my way to a kiosk where I bought a ticket for the Heathrow express for 18 pounds that would take me to Paddington station. There were people there to help me know which train to get on which was a huge help and the ride was really easy,about 15 minutes tops. Then I caught a taxi at Paddigton station (which was actually really cool looking and I should have taken a picture). That was about the point where I started to get excited because I was in a little black taxi and it was raining outside and the driver was a friendly guy with a cockney accent. I felt so British! He dropped me off at Liberty Hall some where close to midnight.
Taxi que!
I had finally made it.
Oh but the story doesn't stop there! Tune in next time for Part 2: Where am I? Where are you? And where are all the street signs???
My friends, the time has come... I leave for London tomorrow!!!
Thus, welcome the the official beginning of my travel posts in my same old blog!
Yes, in just about 12 hours from this very moment I will be taking off on my first of two planes en route to Newark then Heathrow! My eminent departure means that basically all of today was spent in a mad packing whirlwind. Of course I didn't start packing earlier and of course I didn't put any thought into the prospect other than to pack underpants... planning ahead, who does that?
This is how my day started, prospects looked grim.
This is no vacation I'm going on. No, I am basically moving to a foreign country for a few months and despite my mom's constant reminders that there are stores with things like shampoo and socks in London I couldn't help but feel that I need a solid supply of all the basics. It doesn't help that I am a sentimental person who derives joy and comfort from inanimate objects so I felt like I was dissing some of my favorite t-shirts when I had to leave them out of the suitcase... yeah, I know that's weird. I had to give myself a few sentimental allowances so I've got my crazy looking charming stuffed owl that my mom bought me just because she knows I like things that are borderline ugly because I think they're "charming" and owls. He makes me happy. I've also got a rock that I randomly picked up on the grounds at the Renaissance Faire one day during the parade, drew a face on, and dubbed Cliff MacLeod. He's coming with me to see the sights of London and report back to all of our faire friends.
Cliff is more ready to go than I am.
At first I thought I'd have plenty of room in the suitcase for all my stuff. For being away for three months and having to be prepared for all kinds of occasions and weather I thought I did pretty good at sticking to just the essentials... I was wrong. Mike was quick to point out to me that I had way too much stuff but I chose to not believe him and just keep going. In this particular case his expertise as a single suitcase wielding boy turned out to be spot on because with out him and my space bags my giant suitcase would still be 3.5 lbs. over the 50 lb. limit!
It doesn't matter if you have all the space in the world,
get some space bags just for the joy of watching your stuff
shrink into dense, misshapen blobs!
Good news, somehow I managed to fit it all in there with out even having to expand the suitcase to its full size! So now I'm officially done packing and all that is left is to heft my giant suitcase, stuffed shoulder bag, and bursting purse to the airport tomorrow morning and hope that I have enough entertainment to keep me alive for the 11 hour plane ride I have ahead of me.
Plus Angry Birds and a new movie on the iPod...
So with all my rocks packed and owls smashed flat I guess I am finally ready to go... in theory that is. Of course in reality I'm completely freaking out that I am about to leave my house and my family, pets, and friends for a very long time to be in a very far away place. But the thought of all the old rock stars that I will potentially get to stalk in London is good consolation!
I arrive in London at 6:45 a.m. Tuesday (their time) where my most amazingly wonderful friend Sarah is going to meet me at the airport and take me on the tube to my residence hall. From there I will have the rest of the day to get settled in and hopefully sleep off a bit of the jet lag that I am so dreading. Then, on Wednesday the official orientation activities begin and the rest will be history!
Thanks for reading and the next time I post it will be from Merrye Olde, see you then!
The attack on America, a decade ago today on September 11th, 2001 is most certainly the greatest tragedy I have ever witnessed. Undoubtedly, countless Americans feel the same way. Today is a day for all the people of this great nation to come together to share and grieve. While many will share memories and offer condolences, today I would like to simply put together a short list of the things that I feel shine a little hope on the shadows of that day.
1) FDNY
An iconic photo of courage
Hundreds of New York firefighters responded to the call and ran into the very thing that everyone else was running away from. 343 of them died that day while working to get civilians to safety. It's all part of the job that they committed themselves to. I know that my dad would have done the same thing had it happened in Denver. Despite having their entire department ripped apart in a matter of hours, those remaining worked tirelessly, seemingly driven on by their fallen brothers. FDNY is a stronger department today because of all they did that day. The same goes for NYPD and all the NY EMTs.
2) The beautiful memorial and ceremony at Ground Zero.
Were you to fly over ground zero today, from above you would still see what may look like a shadow of the the Twin Towers which once stood there. Today, two enormous fountains stand in the exact foot prints of the two towers where thousands of gallons of water rush down two tiers and seemingly straight down into the earth in the center of the tower's foundation. All around this are carved in brass the names of the people who died there that day painstakingly grouped together with those of friends and family. This memorial is truly a beautiful sight where there was once only chaos and devastation and a testament to our country's strength and perseverance. For the tenth time in as many years the names of each victim were read aloud by friends and family, today was the last time this ceremony will formally take take place at Ground Zero. As three New York police officers played Taps in a perfect and pure chorus, families both present and around the world payed their respects.
3) The way a crisis can bring out the best in people
It was not just the professionals who went to the aid of the people who were injured or trapped. All over New York, people helped other people simply because they cared and they knew it was the right thing to do. I watched a short piece today on CNN that showed a great example of this called Boatlift. When the towers fell no one knew what was going on or how to handle it, all the subways and trains in Manhattan were shut down. This left a huge number of people literally trapped on the island and standing at the sea wall after fleeing as far as they possibly could. The regular ferry service was far from equipped to handle that volume of people so the call went out, "all available boats report." According to the captains of the first boats on scene the next sight they saw was a horizon filled with an army of tug boats, private boats, and party boats all speeding their way to the aid of the people who wanted nothing more than to get out of Manhattan. In what has been dubbed The Great Boatlift of 9/11, 9,000 people were rescued in 9 hours thanks to the efforts and quick thinking of "Regular Joes" and there are similar stories from nearly every facet of that terrible day.
4) The strength and bravery of the American people
Thousands of Americans lost loved ones that day and although the days and years that followed have been incredibly difficult, we as a nation have come out of it even stronger than before. The countless ways that people have expressed their feelings and reached out to others have built up over the past ten years like an invisible support system that we can all turn to when we find ourselves in need. One year after the attacks, an eleven-year-old girl named Brittany Clark wrote this poem for her father who was lost the year before:
I give you this one thought to keep/
I am with you still, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glint on the snow.
I am as sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not think of me as gone,
I am with you still in each new dawn.
I am amazed and inspired by the courage and strength (not to mention writing talent) such a young American could find in such a terrible time.
5) the overwhelming sense of patriotism that followed
Do you remember how for weeks after 9/11, everywhere you went you saw American flags and proclamations of "God Bless America"? I clearly recall a distinct and deeply rooted sense of patriotism throughout every community in America as we strangers came together as a nation to send a message of unity and strength to our attackers just as much as to ourselves. I wish that we could feel that sense of pride in our country more readily since that day, it shouldn't take an attack on our people and the deaths of thousands of innocent citizens to remind us how lucky we truly are to call ourselves Americans.
Did you know that the bones that make up both your fingers and your toes are called phalanges [fuh-lan-jeez]. Fun fact and fun to say! And here's another fun fact; you and I have 20... probably. And guess what else there are 20 of? There are 20 days until I embark upon an epic adventure! What adventure is this you ask? Let me give you a hint:
Hint #1
Got it figured out yet?
If you don't know by now... well there's just no helping you.
Did ya guess? Did you guess that my adventure will involve climbing to the top of that big pointy clock thingy to rescue that well dressed old lady who will then be so grateful to me that she leaves me her tea fortune? You did? Well then my friend, you have a very vivid imagination, congratulations!
That's not my adventure.
No, my adventure is more like moving to London all by myself and going to school there for three months!!!
*for those of you playing the home game those hints were actually tea, the Queen, and Big Ben thus... London*
Sounds like an adventure to me especially for someone who's never lived more than 20 minutes from home... ever. Am I nervous? Oh god yes! Am I excited? WAY BIGGER YES! And I leave soon, so very soon I can count the days on my phalanges!
I bet you were wondering where the phalanges thing was going to tie in, huh?
This post has been your first warning of the things to come. I am not starting a new blog strictly for my study abroad experience, that will all become part of this blog. On the other hand, this blog won't become all about my study abroad time either, there will still be plenty of pointless silly posts. With this new information in mind, I invite you to subscribe to follow me on this adventure or delete this blog from your favorites. Which ever will make you happy!
