Saturday, January 12
Thursday, January 10
Tuesday, January 8
Catz Meow
Eesh. Sorry for the pun. Had to. I have to keep the family heritage alive and well while abroad. But seriously, folks, I'm finally in Oxford.
After a few hours of not-packing this morning (I compulsively repacked everything yesterday), we jumped on a bus for about an hour's ride into Oxford. Dara and I sat in the back like the cool kids we are, and listened to my iPod speakers. Her iPod mostly, and now I have Fleetwood Mac stuck in my head. But like I said, the ride wasn't too long, and before I knew it, we were pulling into some modern-looking building complex. We left our bags outside, got our room assignments and ID cards, and started dragging our crap to our staircases.
For those of you who don't go to Yale (or some comparable school), staircases are like mini buildings all squashed together, so there are four doubles and four singles on the top two floors, and I think one or two of each on the ground floor. As it turns out, all of the abroad students are housed together, and I'm rooming with Laura, who goes to Johns Hopkins. We got into the room and found a tiny double bedroom and a common area, and (once we determined that there were ethernet jacks in both rooms) quickly claimed one room each. I took the inner room, knowing from my Gund-dorm days that I do better with the inner room (especially as Laura, like my first-year roommate, is early to bed and early to rise, and apparently sleeps like a rock). Pros: bigger than the other room, comfy chair, and nightstand; cons: absolutely NO storage. I have one drawer under my bed. That's literally it. However, Laura's room has tons of shelves, half of which she graciously donated to my stuff. I figure, if I'm getting up later than she is, it's not a big deal to go grab clothes from her room. There's also no door between our rooms, something we hope to remedy with some kind of curtain in the future.
Again, the first few hours were kind of lame. A bare room isn't exciting for me, so I threw posters up as quickly as possible, before unpacking (as much as possible, (as I said, no storage space means my shirts live on the floor for the moment). But we were invited to the dining hall for coffee and sandwiches, which we pounced on, and one of the abroad coordinators from Catz was wandering around, asking if we had any questions; she seems extremely nice.
We then had a meeting with the academic director for the abroad students, who was just SO enthusiastic about the school, she infected us all with it, and the mood noticeably lifted. Two things learned: Oxford has the oldest museum in the world, and every ten minutes, there's a coach (bus) to London from Oxford. Also, there are just so many resources for us to take advantage of here, and I do plan on getting my (parents') money's worth.
First thing on the list of things to send me, mom and dad: a comforter cover. Seriously. Any one will do. The quilt I have on my bed is beyond ugly. See Figure 1.
After a few hours of not-packing this morning (I compulsively repacked everything yesterday), we jumped on a bus for about an hour's ride into Oxford. Dara and I sat in the back like the cool kids we are, and listened to my iPod speakers. Her iPod mostly, and now I have Fleetwood Mac stuck in my head. But like I said, the ride wasn't too long, and before I knew it, we were pulling into some modern-looking building complex. We left our bags outside, got our room assignments and ID cards, and started dragging our crap to our staircases.
For those of you who don't go to Yale (or some comparable school), staircases are like mini buildings all squashed together, so there are four doubles and four singles on the top two floors, and I think one or two of each on the ground floor. As it turns out, all of the abroad students are housed together, and I'm rooming with Laura, who goes to Johns Hopkins. We got into the room and found a tiny double bedroom and a common area, and (once we determined that there were ethernet jacks in both rooms) quickly claimed one room each. I took the inner room, knowing from my Gund-dorm days that I do better with the inner room (especially as Laura, like my first-year roommate, is early to bed and early to rise, and apparently sleeps like a rock). Pros: bigger than the other room, comfy chair, and nightstand; cons: absolutely NO storage. I have one drawer under my bed. That's literally it. However, Laura's room has tons of shelves, half of which she graciously donated to my stuff. I figure, if I'm getting up later than she is, it's not a big deal to go grab clothes from her room. There's also no door between our rooms, something we hope to remedy with some kind of curtain in the future.
Again, the first few hours were kind of lame. A bare room isn't exciting for me, so I threw posters up as quickly as possible, before unpacking (as much as possible, (as I said, no storage space means my shirts live on the floor for the moment). But we were invited to the dining hall for coffee and sandwiches, which we pounced on, and one of the abroad coordinators from Catz was wandering around, asking if we had any questions; she seems extremely nice.
We then had a meeting with the academic director for the abroad students, who was just SO enthusiastic about the school, she infected us all with it, and the mood noticeably lifted. Two things learned: Oxford has the oldest museum in the world, and every ten minutes, there's a coach (bus) to London from Oxford. Also, there are just so many resources for us to take advantage of here, and I do plan on getting my (parents') money's worth.
First thing on the list of things to send me, mom and dad: a comforter cover. Seriously. Any one will do. The quilt I have on my bed is beyond ugly. See Figure 1.
London Pre-Trip
I'm now in Oxford, but here's a quick recap of the London leg of my journey:
Thursday
After stressing for the last few days before my departure about Virgin Atlantic’s (frankly, preposterous) baggage requirements, among various other (and equally inconsequential) things, I finally set off at a little after 4AM from my house to SFO. I slept for most of the first leg of my journey, dreaming about not being able to speak coherently (undoubtedly connected with my non-ability to keep my mouth from gaping if I sleep upright). When I finally got to Newark early in the afternoon, I was told that I couldn’t even go through security until a few hours before my flight (which was delayed by two hours by the time I arrived). Obviously, this was a bummer, as there aren’t many cushy places to hang out in outside security at that airport.
Resigning myself to my fate, I settled down next to an ATM and plugged my computer in, and started to watch an episode of Battlestar Galactica. Within the first few minutes of this, though, I was approached by a young woman about my age, who asked if she could share my outlet. Her face looked vaguely familiar, so I asked if she was going to Oxford. As it turns out, she was, and on her way to St. Catz as well. We chatted until the time we’d heard Virgin employees would be at the kiosks out front. As I’d checked my bags through back in San Francisco, we split up so she could check her bags, and I proceeded to the already-checked line, trying to appear as if I was hoisting my “thirteen pound” carry-on bag as if it were actually under the weight limit. Things went more or less without a hitch, as a group of us ate dinner together, then chatted in the hallways until security decided we could come through.
As we were walking through security, the fire alarm started to go off. No one was madly running anywhere, so we all just sort of assumed it was a drill. While there was indeed no emergency, the alarm continued to go off for the better part of twenty minutes. Eventually, we all filed onto the plane. Happily, the travel company had not only placed the abroad kids together, but in alphabetical order, which turned out to surround with me with a pretty awesome selection of peers.
The plane was LOUD. There were about forty of us chatting merrily along, nevermind that it was past 12AM. As the plane got up in the air, however, we all realized just how much media was at our fingertips (something like fifty movies, tv shows, games, etc.), and we all shut up and put on headphones. I managed to get through an episode of Doctor Who (“Blink” – HIGHLY recommended) and all of “Run Fatboy Run” (a Simon Pegg movie directed by David Schwimmer – I think) before passing out for a few hours. When I woke up, I gratefully used the world’s tiniest tube of toothpaste (provided by Virgin) and made myself a bit more awake before watching as much of 300 as I could before we started to descend into Heathrow.
Friday
We were all pretty empty-eyed and burned out as we stumbled off the plane. Customs was more or less a joke (I thought it might be more serious in Europe than Mexico. Nope.), and before long, I had my luggage, which miraculously was not lost, though some kids weren’t so lucky. After literally running to keep our carts in control, we were met by abroad people, who directed us to a few buses waiting to take us to our hotel.
I’m guessing because we had so much luggage, we were split into two buses, which let us stretch out after the cramped plane, and get to know each other a little better. After getting on the bus at the St. Giles Hotel, I was happily surprised by the hotel lobby. However, the small elevator and narrow halls upstairs aptly foreshadowed the confirmation my fears. My room was pretty grim. Two twin beds with predictably nose-wrinkling comforters. Side note for family: this room is actually larger than the one in Italy, but you CAN shower and wash your hands at the sink at the same time, which is novel, if nothing else. Upon arrival, I found that a shampoo bottle had leaked in my bag, lucky, only on other toiletries.
We arrived around noon, but had nothing to do until 5PM. This was bad planning on the part of the abroad group, I think. While I did appreciate the time to shower and get my life in order, I then had several hours in a strange city, with no real connections yet. This was tough, and the jetlag didn’t help my mood. I tagged along with some colleagues to a pub for lunch, and watched them eat (a real rarity for me). I also didn’t have any British currency with me at that point, so it was a moot meal. Eventually, we trudged back to the hotel, and walked down for our first meeting, which was about general similarities and differences among Americans and Brits. Basically, what I got from this meeting was that British people tend to wear very muted colors (black) and that Americans tend to be loud. I was quite literally nodding off by the end of the meeting, at which point we were ushered upstairs for a truly bland dinner.
However, dinner did wake me up a bit, and it was decided that despite the lack of sleep for all of us, we would go to a pub and have a drink. Again, I still only had American dollars, so I hung out with a group of about eight, while we talked and drank. The pub was a really interesting experience for me, because I have rarely seen a bar exclusively populated by neither college binge drinking nor depressing older men. Rather, the pub was filled with attractive, mid-twenties people, all seemingly having a great time. It was actually a really fun evening, and afterwards we all went home and passed our (from lack of sleep, not alcohol, silly).
Saturday
Saturday was literally filled with meetings, from end to end. We talked about the academic system here (no babying, lots of independence), had a brief government primer (apparently, nobody really liked Margaret Thatcher), were lectured on safety by an ex-cop (if you get into a bar fight, stand at three quarters so a shove won’t send you flying), weekend trips available for abroad students (“free” until you realize they all leave from London), and an individual meeting for our college (our rep didn’t show up, so we’re going to be surprised by whatever we’re met with when we get there).
After this block of information was poured into my ears, I finally got some money out, went to an internet café, and experienced the glory of Internet Explorer 6, which crashes if you have more than one window open. Plus, it was about 8AM on the west coast, so no one was online anyway. From this experience, I’ve learned that I highly resent having to pay for anything I don’t usually, ESPECIALLY internet service.
Later that night, the whole group of students went to see Tom Stoppard’s The 39 Steps. Say what you will, friends, I loved it. Its self-consciousness reminded me of an, um, better funded Gone to Swell. It was also good to hear British people laughing at the same things as American college students were. The show was at the Criterion theatre, which is in Piccadilly Circus. Oddly, our bus parked in exactly the same place as the bus we had on chorus tour ’02 did. By the time we got back from the theatre, I was exhausted, and decided that bed, not beer, was the best remedy.
Sunday
Sunday morning, kids started leaving for their respective programs. The kids who hadn’t left yet went on a bus tour of London. This was surprisingly fun and informative, as it was led by a guy who runs a hostel and abroad student trip company, and reminds me of the guy from the Gambier Deli, only slightly more jolly and less creepy. Highlights: mafia assassination stories, lots of pub advice, some pooch cuties on the lawn behind the Tower of London. Our tour guide kept offering to buy pints for kids who got trivia right, and I ended up spotting a statue of Abe Lincoln across from the Houses of Parliament before anyone else.
The tour ended up at a favorite pub of the tour guide, The George and Dragon. We all ate traditional Sunday roasts, and of course, I had my winning Guinness with my roast beef. The pub had a slanted floor and was dark wood (like most pubs I’ve seen so far). Lunch was surprisingly good, and as the driver mentioned, contained “the last fresh veg” we’d see for awhile. I fear he was right.
I rode the bus back to the hotel with a friend of Sarah Carter’s, Dara, and then met up with another friend of Sarah’s, Marion. Marion’s been in London for months, now, and is shockingly sure of her bearings. We went to a few outdoor markets before heading back to the hotel with dinner plans. However, we all passed out and decided that just this once, convenience outweighed authenticity, and ate Subway for dinner, while watching the Spice Girls top 40 songs ever on E!
My final triumph of the night was enlightening both Dara and my roommate Rachel to the wonder and cinematic masterpiece of The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift. By the time it was over, we were all pretty tired again, so we all went to bed.
Monday
Today was completely free, but yesterday we all had to stand outside and wait for the breakfast place in the hotel to empty out a bit before we could go in, so we got up and ate a little earlier. Our hotel is right around the corner from the British Museum, and amazingly, all the museums in England are free admission. Dara and I had strolled through a few rooms to kill time yesterday, including some of Egypt and the “money” room. Today, we were at the museum before most of the rooms were open, but one that was open, and really caught my attention was dedicated to everyday life of people around the world.
Huge class cases held various topics and regions, maybe it was the variety or extreme vividness of the colors used (especially in South America), but I was pretty enraptured by the whole room. Eventually, Dara and I made it to what I really wanted to see; the Elgin Marbles. Essentially, pieces of the Parthenon pillaged from Greece, and brought to England, they contain a frieze thought to have inspired Keats to write the line in Ode on a Grecian Urn about the “heifer lowing at the skies.” I was surprised by how moved I was upon seeing this piece.
Dara and I went back to the hotel for a bit before meeting up with another friend of hers for lunch at a Mediterranean restaurant with the world’s most judgmental waiter, raising his eyebrows at us after we asked for tap water. Sheesh. After this, I gave in and bought a phone. I guess I just forgot how convenient they are for coordinating with people. Another lesson about myself: I’m way more demanding when I’m paying in pounds.
Finally, we went out to dinner with the new batch of students that arrived today for orientation. We ship out to Oxford tomorrow. Who knows what we’ll find. Cheers.
Thursday
After stressing for the last few days before my departure about Virgin Atlantic’s (frankly, preposterous) baggage requirements, among various other (and equally inconsequential) things, I finally set off at a little after 4AM from my house to SFO. I slept for most of the first leg of my journey, dreaming about not being able to speak coherently (undoubtedly connected with my non-ability to keep my mouth from gaping if I sleep upright). When I finally got to Newark early in the afternoon, I was told that I couldn’t even go through security until a few hours before my flight (which was delayed by two hours by the time I arrived). Obviously, this was a bummer, as there aren’t many cushy places to hang out in outside security at that airport.
Resigning myself to my fate, I settled down next to an ATM and plugged my computer in, and started to watch an episode of Battlestar Galactica. Within the first few minutes of this, though, I was approached by a young woman about my age, who asked if she could share my outlet. Her face looked vaguely familiar, so I asked if she was going to Oxford. As it turns out, she was, and on her way to St. Catz as well. We chatted until the time we’d heard Virgin employees would be at the kiosks out front. As I’d checked my bags through back in San Francisco, we split up so she could check her bags, and I proceeded to the already-checked line, trying to appear as if I was hoisting my “thirteen pound” carry-on bag as if it were actually under the weight limit. Things went more or less without a hitch, as a group of us ate dinner together, then chatted in the hallways until security decided we could come through.
As we were walking through security, the fire alarm started to go off. No one was madly running anywhere, so we all just sort of assumed it was a drill. While there was indeed no emergency, the alarm continued to go off for the better part of twenty minutes. Eventually, we all filed onto the plane. Happily, the travel company had not only placed the abroad kids together, but in alphabetical order, which turned out to surround with me with a pretty awesome selection of peers.
The plane was LOUD. There were about forty of us chatting merrily along, nevermind that it was past 12AM. As the plane got up in the air, however, we all realized just how much media was at our fingertips (something like fifty movies, tv shows, games, etc.), and we all shut up and put on headphones. I managed to get through an episode of Doctor Who (“Blink” – HIGHLY recommended) and all of “Run Fatboy Run” (a Simon Pegg movie directed by David Schwimmer – I think) before passing out for a few hours. When I woke up, I gratefully used the world’s tiniest tube of toothpaste (provided by Virgin) and made myself a bit more awake before watching as much of 300 as I could before we started to descend into Heathrow.
Friday
We were all pretty empty-eyed and burned out as we stumbled off the plane. Customs was more or less a joke (I thought it might be more serious in Europe than Mexico. Nope.), and before long, I had my luggage, which miraculously was not lost, though some kids weren’t so lucky. After literally running to keep our carts in control, we were met by abroad people, who directed us to a few buses waiting to take us to our hotel.
I’m guessing because we had so much luggage, we were split into two buses, which let us stretch out after the cramped plane, and get to know each other a little better. After getting on the bus at the St. Giles Hotel, I was happily surprised by the hotel lobby. However, the small elevator and narrow halls upstairs aptly foreshadowed the confirmation my fears. My room was pretty grim. Two twin beds with predictably nose-wrinkling comforters. Side note for family: this room is actually larger than the one in Italy, but you CAN shower and wash your hands at the sink at the same time, which is novel, if nothing else. Upon arrival, I found that a shampoo bottle had leaked in my bag, lucky, only on other toiletries.
We arrived around noon, but had nothing to do until 5PM. This was bad planning on the part of the abroad group, I think. While I did appreciate the time to shower and get my life in order, I then had several hours in a strange city, with no real connections yet. This was tough, and the jetlag didn’t help my mood. I tagged along with some colleagues to a pub for lunch, and watched them eat (a real rarity for me). I also didn’t have any British currency with me at that point, so it was a moot meal. Eventually, we trudged back to the hotel, and walked down for our first meeting, which was about general similarities and differences among Americans and Brits. Basically, what I got from this meeting was that British people tend to wear very muted colors (black) and that Americans tend to be loud. I was quite literally nodding off by the end of the meeting, at which point we were ushered upstairs for a truly bland dinner.
However, dinner did wake me up a bit, and it was decided that despite the lack of sleep for all of us, we would go to a pub and have a drink. Again, I still only had American dollars, so I hung out with a group of about eight, while we talked and drank. The pub was a really interesting experience for me, because I have rarely seen a bar exclusively populated by neither college binge drinking nor depressing older men. Rather, the pub was filled with attractive, mid-twenties people, all seemingly having a great time. It was actually a really fun evening, and afterwards we all went home and passed our (from lack of sleep, not alcohol, silly).
Saturday
Saturday was literally filled with meetings, from end to end. We talked about the academic system here (no babying, lots of independence), had a brief government primer (apparently, nobody really liked Margaret Thatcher), were lectured on safety by an ex-cop (if you get into a bar fight, stand at three quarters so a shove won’t send you flying), weekend trips available for abroad students (“free” until you realize they all leave from London), and an individual meeting for our college (our rep didn’t show up, so we’re going to be surprised by whatever we’re met with when we get there).
After this block of information was poured into my ears, I finally got some money out, went to an internet café, and experienced the glory of Internet Explorer 6, which crashes if you have more than one window open. Plus, it was about 8AM on the west coast, so no one was online anyway. From this experience, I’ve learned that I highly resent having to pay for anything I don’t usually, ESPECIALLY internet service.
Later that night, the whole group of students went to see Tom Stoppard’s The 39 Steps. Say what you will, friends, I loved it. Its self-consciousness reminded me of an, um, better funded Gone to Swell. It was also good to hear British people laughing at the same things as American college students were. The show was at the Criterion theatre, which is in Piccadilly Circus. Oddly, our bus parked in exactly the same place as the bus we had on chorus tour ’02 did. By the time we got back from the theatre, I was exhausted, and decided that bed, not beer, was the best remedy.
Sunday
Sunday morning, kids started leaving for their respective programs. The kids who hadn’t left yet went on a bus tour of London. This was surprisingly fun and informative, as it was led by a guy who runs a hostel and abroad student trip company, and reminds me of the guy from the Gambier Deli, only slightly more jolly and less creepy. Highlights: mafia assassination stories, lots of pub advice, some pooch cuties on the lawn behind the Tower of London. Our tour guide kept offering to buy pints for kids who got trivia right, and I ended up spotting a statue of Abe Lincoln across from the Houses of Parliament before anyone else.
The tour ended up at a favorite pub of the tour guide, The George and Dragon. We all ate traditional Sunday roasts, and of course, I had my winning Guinness with my roast beef. The pub had a slanted floor and was dark wood (like most pubs I’ve seen so far). Lunch was surprisingly good, and as the driver mentioned, contained “the last fresh veg” we’d see for awhile. I fear he was right.
I rode the bus back to the hotel with a friend of Sarah Carter’s, Dara, and then met up with another friend of Sarah’s, Marion. Marion’s been in London for months, now, and is shockingly sure of her bearings. We went to a few outdoor markets before heading back to the hotel with dinner plans. However, we all passed out and decided that just this once, convenience outweighed authenticity, and ate Subway for dinner, while watching the Spice Girls top 40 songs ever on E!
My final triumph of the night was enlightening both Dara and my roommate Rachel to the wonder and cinematic masterpiece of The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift. By the time it was over, we were all pretty tired again, so we all went to bed.
Monday
Today was completely free, but yesterday we all had to stand outside and wait for the breakfast place in the hotel to empty out a bit before we could go in, so we got up and ate a little earlier. Our hotel is right around the corner from the British Museum, and amazingly, all the museums in England are free admission. Dara and I had strolled through a few rooms to kill time yesterday, including some of Egypt and the “money” room. Today, we were at the museum before most of the rooms were open, but one that was open, and really caught my attention was dedicated to everyday life of people around the world.
Huge class cases held various topics and regions, maybe it was the variety or extreme vividness of the colors used (especially in South America), but I was pretty enraptured by the whole room. Eventually, Dara and I made it to what I really wanted to see; the Elgin Marbles. Essentially, pieces of the Parthenon pillaged from Greece, and brought to England, they contain a frieze thought to have inspired Keats to write the line in Ode on a Grecian Urn about the “heifer lowing at the skies.” I was surprised by how moved I was upon seeing this piece.
Dara and I went back to the hotel for a bit before meeting up with another friend of hers for lunch at a Mediterranean restaurant with the world’s most judgmental waiter, raising his eyebrows at us after we asked for tap water. Sheesh. After this, I gave in and bought a phone. I guess I just forgot how convenient they are for coordinating with people. Another lesson about myself: I’m way more demanding when I’m paying in pounds.
Finally, we went out to dinner with the new batch of students that arrived today for orientation. We ship out to Oxford tomorrow. Who knows what we’ll find. Cheers.
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