goodbyes.

I'm dreadfully behind with blogging...but then, what's new, right? I'll catch up eventually.

However, today actually IS the day I'm saying goodbye.
This is my last full day in Cambridge.
My plane leaves 24 hours from now. Literally.

It hasn't sunk in yet that I'm leaving--but every time I think about it, my stomach drops about 2,476 feet and I feel slightly sick. I don't want to leave.

This study-abroad experience has been unreal. I've made some amazing friends here and have created some amazing memories.Cambridge has taught me a lot about learning; perhaps most importantly, it's made me rediscover how much I love it. Cambridge has also taught me a lot about me. This entire summer has been me learning about who I am and who I want to be. The funny thing is, that doesn't mean I have myself all figured out. Perhaps more than anything, I've just realized how much I don't know and how much I still have left to experience. Anyways, I'll leave that for another time.

Goodbyes are funny things. Here's the thing: school starts at BYU on Monday. That means I could see most of the people I've hung out with here in less than three days if I wanted. So it's not really a sad good-bye in the sense of I've made all these great friends and now I won't ever see them again type of way. It's a sad goodbye in the sense of I'm leaving Cambridge and this amazing two-month experience is OVER.

But life goes on. And you keep having to say hello and then goodbye. Goodbyes suck, but at least they also forcibly kick you out the door to do some more learning and to experience life from a new perspective.

Goodbyes force you to say new hellos.
And hellos are something I do like.

New adventures await me, even in Provo, UT.

 

The Cam, a punt, and the King's College Chapel.

Paris - à nouveau!

The weekend of August 5-7, I went to Paris. Again! As soon as Jacqueline started reminding me about how good the pain chocolat and nutella crepes would be, I knew that I would be on that bus heading to Paris.

Friday afternoon, Jacqueline and I left for London. We did a bit of shopping and looking around. Then we went to Wagamama. We weren't sure what we were getting into, but man, am I glad we went. Wagamama is a Japanese restaurant--with delicious food and huge portion sizes. Jacqueline and I both got different dishes and split half and half. Rob joined us half way through. While he ate, we finished off our meal with one of the most delicious cups of hot chocolate I have ever had.

my food. jacqueline's food.
deliciousness.

We finished eating, and then headed off for the Victoria station to take the overnight bus to Paris. Jacqueline and I had a great sleeping arrangement going on...and then we were rudely awoken by the presence of light. Everybody had to get off the bus while we were on the ferry. We got on the ferry, found some couches, and tried to sleep some more. We couldn't. It was desperately uncomfortable, and furthermore, it was freezing.

horribly uncomfortable on the ferry.

We got to Paris, bought our metro passes, and then went to our hotel to dump our luggage somewhere. We freshened up in the lobby bathroom. Needless to say, the pictures taken this day were not our most flattering.
But it was okay, because we were heading out to conquer Paris.

It was a lovely morning. Cool and just a little brisk. Paris was as wonderful as I remembered. Ahhh. We went to a bakery to get breakfast. Pain chocolat....mhmm. French pastries=unbelievable. Lauren said, "I think I just cheated on my boyfriend...with a pastry." I'm telling you, it's possible.

After we'd eaten, we walked to the Louvre, taking the scenic route--past Notre Dame, next to the Seine, through the city streets. Once we got to the Louvre, we split up because we all had different things we wanted to see. Because I'd already seen most of the highlights of the Louvre last time, I just visited a couple of my favorite pieces...and then just wandered down the galleries, taking my sweet time and having a lovely time. Just like last time, I could have spent all day in that museum.

lots of art.
special mention: Dum dum want some gum gum.

We did a lot of walking around, just experiencing the atmosphere. As far as new things go, I caught a glimpse of the Parthenon and walked through the Luxumbourg gardens...good stuff. But mostly...we didn't do lots of tourist-y things.

We did some shopping, lots of browsing, some eating, lots of close-your-eyes-and-smile-ing. It was great. It felt good. Even being on the metro was good. Felt like real Paris, ya know?

That night we went on a bike tour of Paris. Definitely an adventure and definitely worth every euro. It wasn't so much a tour as it was an experience. The tour guide didn't talk that much, just showed us around. And that was fine--I liked it better that way. We did make a stop for some ice cream. I'm not kidding when I say the ice cream was delicious. It was so delicious that Brendan and I went to get some again the next day. Then it started to rain. And Parisian raindrops...like I've said before, they don't kid around. We got soaked.

At first I was like "Bummer. Oh dang it. Ah, why?"
And then I decided I was going to love it. So I gave up with trying to keep my poncho hood up and just got wet and liked it. And you know, it made the experience 100x better.
Not to sound like a total Les Mis nerd...but you know how Eponine sings,

In the rain the pavement shines like silver
All the lights are misty in the river
In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight...

Well, it really was like that. We were biking along the Seine River, and the sidewalks were glistening with rain, mist was rising off the river--and everything about it was just beautiful. Plus, I could pretend to be Eponine.

pit stop by the Louvre as the sun was setting.

Our bike tour also included an hour long boat tour. That was fantastic as well. We got a free drink, so I sat on a chair on a boat, surrounded by amazing people (Brendan, Jacqueline, Rob, and Allison), drank my Orangina, and watched the Eiffel Tower sparkle. Not to sound completely cheesy and sentimental...but...that was a good moment, and I wouldn't have had it in any other city but Paris.

on the boat tour.

Once we got to our hostel, we were completely and totally exhausted. Overnight busses sure are convenient, but they're not the best for a full night's rest. I could have been sleeping in a five-star hotel that night, for all I knew once my head hit that pillow.

--------------------------------------------

The next day was Sunday and we all met in the hotel to head for church. 

Before church though, we wanted to see the Pompidou Museum. Not only did the museum open later than we thought it did, there was also a line. We had less than a half hour in that place, and it was SUCH a COOL museum. If I ever go back to Paris, you can bet your bottom dollar that I'll be there again. At least it was free though, right? (Most museums in Paris are free the first Sunday of the month).

Church in Paris, France, was pretty legit as well. It was a neat ward--lots of cultural diversity, and it seemed to be very unified. Not going to lie though, I was still pretty tired though. Like...struggling not to fall asleep during church tired. I didn't fall asleep. Victoire. 

After church, we sat in a park next to a fountain and ate bread and cheese. Let me clarify, hot French baguettes and boursin. In other words, lunch was so so so good that each of us ate an entire baguette by ourselves in one sitting. 

Brendan wanted to spend a bit of time in the gay quarter. Almost everybody else wanted to see the D'Orsay, but since I'd already seen it, I hung out with Brendan. We went into a few stores and then dipped into a gay restaurant (gay bars aren't until nighttime) for an appetizer. Our waiter was perhaps the most flamboyantly gay man I have ever seen. He was wearing a bright purple tank under a zebra-striped onesie type deal. He was also super dramatic and very funny. Even though I was stuffed already from lunch, I thought the food was still good, and it was just kind of a fun experience. As we left, the waiter grabbed us both and said "Kisses, boys and girls, kisses!" He kissed both of us on the cheek. Super funny. 

inside the restaurant.

After that, Brendan and I took the metro back to the Latin quarter. We wanted to catch the organ concert at Notre Dame, but we were a little early. So we went back to the ice cream place we had discovered on the bike tour, and had an ice cream. It was perfect timing to head back to Notre Dame after that. We got inside just after the music had started. It was amazing. Something about an organ just belongs in a cathedral. It was so powerful that I could almost feel it resonating within me.

picture of Notre Dame--just because it's so beautiful.

We listened to the organ for a little over a half hour before slipping out again. We headed for Montmartre. We walked by Moulin Rouge. Oh, there's scandal in the house!

moulin rouge.

Brendan and I did a lot of exploring in this area. We knew that as long as we kept going uphill we'd end up at Sacré-Cœur. So we just kept walking and looking, and sure enough, soon enough we were at the top. We sat on the steps of the basilica and just looked out over the city of Paris.

wandering around Montmartre.

After a bit, Brendan had to leave to meet up with a friend, and I had to meet up with the rest of our group. I used the Paris metro by myself for the first time and survived just fine (it's actually really easy to use). I found everybody, and we went out for dinner. I ate some really delicious lasagna. Not French--I know--don't hate me.

dinner!

After dinner, we all got nutella banana crepes. I've decided this is the best possible combo for a Parisian crepe. It's incredible. Really. Tryyy it.

So good. So full. So happy. 

Afterwards, we booked it to the metro in a mad rush, desperately trying to make it to the Arc of Triumph. We finally made it to the right stop, got on the escalator, and headed upwards. The escalator was uncovered for the last half--and we were shockingly and instantly drenched in less than five seconds. It was raining ridiculously hard. We couldn't take the escalator back down so we just had to keep ascending the escalator in the pouring rain, desperately trying to find our umbrellas. It was a struggle. I'm pretty sure we looked really dumb. I don't know though, I'm just judging from the muffled laughs coming from the Parisians who passed us. Great moment. 

We decided the Arc of Triumph wasn't worth it, so we headed back into the metro station and RAN to catch the next train. We didn't catch it. We were running late for our overnight bus, so we were beginning to sweat it a little. We got on the next one, made it to the bus station, stood in the longest line, and boarded our bus in the nick of time. 

We couldn't sit together because we were so late...so we sat wherever there was an empty seat. I got to sit next to a savory French character. His friends told me I shouldn't sleep while I was sitting next to him. I laughed (ha ha...ha?). Although he cussed out the man in front of him for leaning his seat back, he didn't bother me at all though. If you don't count the fact that he kept up a very lively, rather loud conversation with his friends until the wee hours of the morning. 

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't too bad. Especially when you consider the fact that four of our friends got stuck in Paris when their bus left without them...and had to buy new tickets. Good bye 150 euros, it's been nice.

Or the fact that two more of our friends were delayed for 2.5 hours when somebody on their bus got caught up in customs. 

As it happened, we got home with plenty of time for me to get to my 9:00 class. 

I stayed awake in said class. 

I'm still proud of that one. 

Report: Formal Hall (2)

Formals are one of my favorite things here in Cambridge. It's an excuse to get all dressed up. Then you get to walk on the grass and engage in polite conversation while elegantly holding a glass of wine (aka apple juice). Finally, you sit down at a beautifully set table and eat a three-course dinner.

Quite posh, don't you think?

Forget posh. It's just fun.

Mim let me try on her Cambridge robes. :)

A long time ago (okay, like two weeks long), I went to a formal in the Old Library of Pembroke College. It was a beautiful building and a delicious meal: melon soup with melon caviar as an appetizer, some kind of fish for the main course, and creme brulee for dessert. 

being silly.

Cheers!!

shoes!
mine, tanya's, manana's, and becca's.

After the formal, we were still feeling lively. We ran home to change and put on our dancing shoes, and then we went clubbing. Lola Lo's. We partied until the club closed at 3:00. It was a good night.

I also went to a formal in King's College. I'd been looking forward to this formal for a long time...aka I've (really really really) wanted to walk on the grass at King's ever since day one of this Cambridge experience.

WHAT we're on the grass.

some of the studs i get to hang with on a daily basis.
jack, brendan, me, chris, and matt.

more pictures.
that's king's chapel in the background of the middle one.

our three-course meal at kings.
honestly, this meal was a little strange.
tasty, but yeah...a little strange.
maybe i should just blame my uncultured-ness.

papers out of my ears

I wrote a 12-page paper yesterday.
I read it and all I see is 12 pages of word throw-up.
I'm leaving it for tonight.
I'll read it tomorrow, and hope it sounds better.
I really don't want to have to rewrite the entire darn thing.

There were four of us at the library last night until 2:30. We had a study/snack break a little after midnight. We went through an entire can of pringles, a package and a half of cookies, and an entire bag of gummies.Yeah...let's not talk about that. There's something about late nights at the library that just mandates food. When Katelyn and I were at the library until 3:00 a couple weeks ago, we went through a large package of chocolate and lots of nutella and crackers.

Funny youtube videos are also a necessity. When Katelyn and I were at the library, Chris was showing us British comedy shorts. Last night, Matt showed us an awful rendition of O Holy Night. Both nights everybody concerned was shaking from contained laughter and tearing up. Hysterical.

Tonight, I'm hoping to write about seven pages on a separate paper.
I want to hopefully have them both done by Friday.
I need them to be done by Friday.
I'm leaving for Amsterdam on Friday.

I have an exam on Friday.
Oops, guess I should find time to study for that too.
90% of my grade for my Shakespeare class rests upon this week.
45% of my grade for my History of the Reformation class. 

If I can make it through this week of Cambridge-ness, I can make it through anything.

P.S. Secretly, I'm going to miss these late nights at the library. I'm going to miss being with these amazing people who listen to me complain and complain with me. I'm going to miss walking around Cambridge at night. I'm going to miss all the raw learning I'm doing here. I'm going to miss collapsing into bed and waking up four hours later for an early class--especially when I know that everybody else will be just as bleary-eyed as me. I'm going to even kind of miss the stress--because it's that stress that really makes me believe I'm a student at Cambridge this summer.

i shall imagine life

i shall imagine life

is not worth dying,if

(and when) roses complain

their beauties are in vain

but though mankind persuades

itself that every weed's 

a rose,roses(you feel

certain)will only smile

-ee cummings

i have been enchanted lately by the beauty of poetry

by the way the words just fall off the tongue and the page and

then linger in the air for lifetimes at a time

i like that 

what i see is different; merely the twisted collage of something you saw

and that what you see is nothing but the blurred mirage of a vision

i maybe had

once upon a time.

Tea in Grantchester and Riots in London

"Stands the church clock at ten-to-three
And is there honey still for tea?"
-Rupert Brooke

I had tea in the orchard at Grantchester yesterday.


The orchard (owned by Kings College) was first planted in 1868. Students began drinking their tea there in the spring of 1987--and the orchard hasn't changed much since then. Rupert Brooke, Rutherford, Maynard Keynes, Virginia Woolf, A A Milne King George VI, and Prince Charles are a mere sampling of the people who have drunk their tea in this orchard. Of course, ordinary people drink their tea there as well...like me.


I ordered a fruit tea and a scone with clotted cream and strawberry jam. It was heavenly. I'd never heard of clotted cream before I'd had a real British scone, but it definitely takes those unbelievably good scones to a new level. So good. This is definitely one of the things I'll miss as far as British food goes. It was beginning to sprinkle when we got our food, so we ate in the pavilion--the same pavilion that literary geniuses such as Virginia Woolf took shelter under when it began to rain. Here's to hoping that some of that literary genius stuff rubs off. 

tea & scones.

After tea, it had stopped raining...so we began to walk back. We took a different route back, following the Cam. English countryside is so beautiful. 

katelyn, kiri, and i!
kiri is visiting katelyn (kiri also went to
hamilton high school) for a couple days. :)

English countryside.

keep your face to the sun.

[i don't want to think about leaving.
where has the time gone?]

On an entirely different, and much less peaceful, note, there has been a lot of rioting going down in London lately. Arson, looting, violence...it's spreading around England. The sale of baseball bats on Amazon has increased 8,000% in England since the rioting began. Kind of scary, huh. In fact, BYU is sending the study-abroad students in the London Center home early. 


As I was running last night, I noticed quite a few police cars sitting around in Cambridge and lots policemen making their rounds. Cambridge hasn't had any big incidents though--still feels really safe. Tourists were stopping the policemen and asking to get their picture taken with them. Kind of funny.


However, the situation itself is very sobering. It was definitely a big wake-up call--life in Cambridge has been so wonderful that I've forgotten to keep up with what's going on in the rest of the world. My thoughts and prayers go out to those affected by the violence. 

Winnie the Pooh and other books.

Today has been such a good day.

First of all, I signed up for a tour to the Wren Library in Trinity College. Trinity College is one of the richest colleges in Cambridge and it's beautiful. We got a little tour of the college before we got to the library.

The Wren library has some great exhibits--my favorite? An original manuscript by A.A. Milne (he attended Trinity College) of Winnie the Pooh!

 It was lying open in a display case, right next to the open published copy. So amazing. I read the manuscript in Milne's scrawling cursive. It was open to where Owl is writing "A Very Happy Birthday with love from Pooh":  HIPY PAPY BTHUTHDTH THUTHDA BTHUTHDY.

Talk about childhood nostalgia.

There was also an exhibit on Isaac Newton (a fellow of Trinity College) that included his famous letter with a picture showing the apple dropping, his walking stick, and a lock of his hair. Also, a first edition copy of his book Principia. It was very cool. As was the 8th century copy of the Pauline epistles, one of Shakespeare's first folios--and the many other books/manuscripts.

Another highlight of the day--I went to an old used books shop in Cambridge. I bought three books, all by British authors: an 1966 edition of The Hobbit, a 1946 edition of The Screwtape Letters (first published in 1942), and a [beautiful] 1964 edition of Wuthering Heights. They will be fun to read and reread...and I can already see them looking just great on my bookshelf. There were so many books there that I wanted to buy. Like...that great set of Charles Dickens. Or Jane Austin. That first edition copy of A Christmas Carol.  Someday.

(i also splurged and bought two dresses. european dresses are a 100x classier than american dresses. really. they're not indecent and they still manage to look attractive, flattering, and trendy [or vintage]. yeah. at least that's what i keep telling myself)

Gothic Architecture Class

Gothic Architecture. Oh, Dr. Oldfield. He was a good teacher. He was hilarious, although he began swearing on the first day of class and never stopped after that. He was always beating up on the system--liked to stick it to the man. He was always early for class so that he could prepare and greet us as we came in. Good class.

I've been done with the Gothic Architecture for a while now, but I figure I should probably write about the class a bit before the summer is over.

First of all, I genuinely enjoyed it. It wasn't a lot of work, but I still managed to learn a lot. I loved all the field trips we did. Here's all the churches we got to see:

1) St. Bene't and Little St. Mary's.
2) Kings College Chapel
3) Great St. Mary's and St. Botolph's.
4) Saint John's Chapel and Corpus Cristi Chapel
5) All Saint's Church
6) Catholic Church of our Lady and the English Martyrs
7) Ely Cathedral

And that's all of the field trips that I can remember. Dr. Oldfield had us analyzing churches from our very first field trip. He was very patient with us, and by the end, we had gotten much better at picking out architectural details. I notice buildings much more now. If it's medieval gothic, I can usually date whether it's early, middle, or late. I can tell where renovation/rebuilding might have occurred. I can recognize and appreciate neogothic buildings--and everything that the Gothic Revival entails-- religiously, socially, and politically.

As I was doing my research for my final paper, I realized exactly how much I had learned. That paper took me forever to write, but considering that it was our only real assignment besides our midterm/final, it wasn't too bad. That bad boy had fifteen sources. Needless to say, as I was piecing the entire puzzle together, I realized the momentous-ness of what I was doing. I was analyzing St. Giles' Church. In one paper, I had to utilize everything I had learned in the entire class. I felt like a detective. It was cool. Even though the process of inserting and citing photos in microsoft word was frustrating enough to make me want to mutter rather (really) loud angry nothings to my computer in the very very quiet Kings Library.

I'm not sure what my grade is in the class. I don't know what I got on that paper--and I don't know how I did on the final. One hour to write two essays that decide almost 50% of your grade is super intimidating and timed essays were never my strong point. But here's to hoping for the best! And if nothing else, I'm glad I took the class just because of how much I enjoyed it.

piano-pop, organs, evensong, & vivaldi

Just a quick post on some of the music performances I've been able to see here.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


1) A long time ago, Brendan had a friend of his come to Cambridge for a couple days. This friend, Dan Masterson, is spending his summer, just touring around Europe and singing different gigs, trying to promote a CD that he just came out with. Anyways, while Dan was in Cambridge, he gave a group of us a private concert. It was really good. He sang a bunch of songs from his CD (mostly piano-pop), as well as did a couple covers (i.e. Bruno Mars). It was fun--just a close group of friends, listening to some good music. Here's a link to what he sings, if you were interested. I really enjoyed it. 


http://danmasterson.bandcamp.com/album/the-father-time-ep

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2) A couple weeks ago, Rob and I were walking to Kings Library to do some studying. Graduation was going on. Therefore, there were lots of people (although only fellows&their guests) walking on the grass, lots of people strutting around in fancy clothing, and lots of celebrating going down. We got to Kings just in time to watch the fireworks show that was going on. After the show, we went to the library, only to find that it was restricted to only fellows that night (there was a special exhibition going on). We were walking back towards the gate, when we ran into Manana, who told us that there would be an organ concert going on in the Kings Chapel. We walked to the chapel. Only fancily-dressed people were going in, so we asked the lady at the door if we were allowed to enter. She paused for a moment, then nodded. 


We could go in, if we weren't too conspicuous. 


We walked in. The chapel just took my breath away. It was very dimly lit, lots of candles. There were maybe a max of 30 people in the entire chapel at a time. Men in tuxes would escort their lady friends in cocktail dresses down the aisles, looking back at the incredible sculpture work, fan vaulted ceiling, architectural features, while listening to the beautiful, throbbing organ. There were lights positioned in a certain way so that the shadow of an angel was cast perfectly in front of the choir screen. The music was surreal. We sat down. All I could do was close my eyes and listen. I've never heard anything like it. The organ was so powerful that it managed to fill and reverberate around the entire chapel. After the organ stopped and everybody left, we walked all the way up to the east end, where there was a beautiful painting of the Savior. It was so silent, with the candles still flickering in the darkness, that all I could hear was our footsteps as we approached. Somehow, words just didn't seem to fit. So we just walked and looked and absorbed, until we were told that we needed to leave because the chapel was closing.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


3) I never got to hear Evensong in Kings Chapel. The Kings Chapel choir left on tour the week after we got there. However, I did get to see Evensong in Great Saint Mary's, which is a charming parish church in Cambridge. I had seen signs on the wrought iron fences surrounding all the churches advertising this particular even song--the Rhooden Boys Choir from the Netherlands would be singing. As we walked into the chapel, we got handed a little book, so that we could follow along. It was lovely. I was sitting in the second row from the front. The Boys Choir was incredible--the little boys just blew my mind, not to mention, they were adorable. There was some reading, some singing, some standing, some kneeling, some sitting, some praying, some reading, some pondering, all worshiping. So cool. Loved it. My favorite part?  The fantastic wink that one of the little boys threw me at the very end as they all solemnly filed down the aisle. What a kid. 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


4) Vivaldi has been haunting Katelyn and I since Rome, where we bought tickets to see a Vivaldi concert...and ended up not being able to go because our train left earlier than we thought. That was the second time we had double-booked something. Since then, we've seen Vivaldi advertised everywhere. When I first saw the posters in Cambridge, I just knew I had to go. And then one day, Caroline reminded me during dinner that Vivaldi was going down that very night. We persuaded Sean to come with us--and all three of us walked to Kings Chapel. We bought our tickets--we got the cheapest tickets, so we would be sitting in the choir seats, behind the performers. We would only be able to see their backs. 


It ended up being a wonderful decision. 


Being right behind the performers meant that we could hear everything great. We were also practically alone (maybe 30 other people in our half of the chapel), so there was less distraction. We could see the profiles of the violinists as they swayed and lived in their music.


I can't explain how beautiful Kings Chapel is. It just is. It's breath-taking in the day time. But somehow, it's magical at night. It was magical when we listened to the organ concert, and it was magical as we listened to Vivaldi. We listened to some of his concertos, as well as The Four Seasons. And we watched as the stained glass windows became ablaze with the setting sun, and then grew darker and darker, until only the tracery and sculpture on the walls could be seen by the dim light in the chapel. 


The Four Seasons has always enthralled me, at least since I could really appreciate classical music. Somehow, it manages to capture the essence of being in each of those seasons. We could see the profiles of the violinists, swaying and moving, and almost living in their music. As an observer, one would be hard-pressed to not do the same. 


Here's how the classical notes website put it:


"...first greets Spring with a profusion of birds, the breath of gentle breezes, a murmuring stream, swaying plants, a goatherd lulled to sleep and shepherds holding a celebratory bagpipe dance. Summer brings torrid heat, buzzing insects and a violent storm; Fall a harvest celebration and a hunt; and Winter chattering teeth, stamping feet, slipping on ice, shelter by an inside fire and, for a zesty conclusion, a howling windstorm. Not only are the individual verses printed in the score alongside the music they are intended to depict but Vivaldi adds further phrases ("the barking dog," "the tears of the peasant boy," "the drunkard") to clarify specific allusions. His music depicts some rather literally (accurate imitations of specific bird calls and pizzicato raindrops) and others metaphorically (dissonance to underline a winter chill, rapid scales to portray swirling winds.) While all this may sound like a dry schematic for a sound effects track, it all fits musically and centuries later is still enthralling to hear and enjoy. While the Four Seasons may have originated as a routine assignment for his girls to play once, Vivaldi clearly poured his heart and soul into this work."


http://www.classicalnotes.net/classics/vivaldi.html (accessed 8/9/2011).


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I've only listened to a fraction of the musical opportunities that are here in Cambridge. It's kind of sad, but I'm still glad I got to hear what I did. Ahhh. Just thinking about it. Makes me smile.

PKP London Trip

The PKP programme gives every student a free trip to London...I took that free trip last Saturday. Sorry about my lack of chronological order in these posts...I'm just so dreadfully behind that I get things mixed up sometimes. Anyways! 

After a brilliant but exhausting night at the Bop, I managed to get about four hours of sleep before I had to wake up again. We all met at the bus at 9:00, and headed for the great ciudad de Londres.

After our arrival,  Jenny, Rob, Jacqueline, and I all started our day in the city by walking to Parliament and Big Ben. 

Big Ben AND a red double-decker bus.
Double-win.

We stopped in a supermarket, purchased food, and ate lunch on a park bench next to the Thames river. Quite picturesque, if I do say so myself.

View from our park bench.
That's the London Eye in the background.

Then we went inside of Parliament for a tour. SO cool. One of the best tours I've ever been on. We got to see so many different things...galleries, voting chambers, where both the House of Commons and the House of Lords get to meet...so many things. British Parliament has many interesting little nuances and rules--like, if something is getting voted on, a bell is rung throughout parliament (AND many of the pubs surrounding Parliament) and if you are not in the voting chamber in person within eight minutes, your vote is not counted. Interesting, huh. 

touring parliament...
with our super cool visitor passes.

After Parliament, we decided to go to the British Museum. We didn't want to buy a metro pass, so we ended up doing a lot of walking. We did see lots of  London though! Theaters, old bookstores, ice cream shoppes, bakeries, etc. We stopped for a bit in Trafalgar Square (in front of the National Gallery) to take a picture by the lions. There was a gospel group grooving out on one side of the square. Lots of hallelujahs, swaying, and head-bopping. Fun stuff.

Next to the lions.
We should have climbed it, huh.
We tried. And failed.
blahhhh.
HOW does everybody else climb the thing?!?

We finally ended up at the British Museum and met up with Aaron. We didn't want to spend all day at the place, so we had to prioritize. Of course, we saw this:

The Rosetta Stone.
Three ancient languages.
One stone.
Baller.

We also saw the Neireid Monument, the Parthenon sculptures, and the Egyptian mummies, among other things. So cool. I'll have to return sometime.

After the British Museum, we commenced to walk once more. All the way to Covent Gardens! I was thinking Pygmalion the entire time...then I got there...and instead of flower-selling Eliza Doolittle's, there were lots of street performers and commercial shops. Oh well. Guess you lose some and you win some when it comes to progress. 

The important thing about Covent Gardens is that I tried two very impressive desserts.

1) Laduree: home of the best macaroons in the world. Apparently, macaroons are rubbish anywhere else. At least, that's what Jacqueline told me. And she should know. She's lived in France for quite some time. Apparently, these macaroons aren't quite as good as the ones in France, but they were still pretty darn good. Also pretty darn expensive. I guess that's how the French manage to stay so skinny. 

Jacqueline, me, and our delicious macaroons.

2) Ben's Cookies. Aaron told us we had to try Ben's Cookies. There was a humongous line, but if there's a line that long, you know something's got to be good. We waited. Most of us ordered a cookie and a milkshake. The milkshake was mediocre. It wasn't too thick and it wasn't that cold either. But the cookie. The cookie!! It was out of this world. Richest, best, most chocolate-y cookie I have ever had. Mhmm.

Jenny, me, and our milkshakes&cookies.
Cookies, ftw.

We split up at this point. Jenny and Aaron went to go see the London School of Economics. Jacqueline and I went shopping--and Rob tagged along and was a good sport about it. I didn't buy anything, but Jacqueline got a sweet pair of shoes. We walked all the way to Saint Paul's Cathedral, poked around the outside for a while (the inside was closed), and ate supper at Pizza Express. I wasn't too impressed with the place. The pizza was neither cheap nor exceptional.

After dinner, we crossed the Millenium Bridge (HARRY POTTER) to arrive at the Globe--Shakespeare's theater! We met up with a bigger group of PKP students here to see All's Well That Ends Well. The theater looks very similar to how I imagined it would look in Shakespeare's day. So legit. We were groundlings, so we got to stand for the entire play. It was a bit hard on the knees and feet...but totally worth it. I loved the play! It was brilliant. Very entertaining. I hadn't read the play beforehand, but I had no problem understanding everything that went on. 

1) Jacqueline and I thinking about the standing for three hours
part of being a groundling.
2) the stage of the globe. some of the groundlings were right next to
the stage and could lean against it. Lucky bums.

1) more of the Globe theater.
2) when intermission came, we were on the ground in two seconds flat.
relief for throbbing knees and feet. 

After the play, we boarded the bus and headed back for Cambridge. Good conversation was to be had by all in our little group. Fantastic day, overall.

an american in great britain.

Take a moment to let your mind wander back to World War II—a time when it was the Axis powers versus the Allies. A time when England and the United States had to work together because the fate of the world depended on it. During this particular world war, almost two million American servicemen and women passed through England.

World War II was eventually won. However, that victory came at a price.

In 1943, Cambridge University donated 30.5 acres of land as a temporary cemetery. It was officially dedicated in 1956. 3,158 of our servicemen are interred there. Furthermore, there are 5,127 names listed on the Tablets of the Missing.

 

Last Sunday, a group of us went to see this cemetery--the Cambridge American Cemetery and Memorial.

It is a beautiful, but somber place. The endless rows of white crosses, the chapel, the Tablets of the Missing--all of it left an indelible impression. I thought about a lot of things. Hard things, but good things.

I'm grateful for the sacrifice of our troops.

I'm proud to still support our troops.

I'm proud to be an American. In the

United States, in England, in 

France, in Spain, in

everywhere.

Reflecting pools, Tablets of the Missing, the American flag.
Inscription on base of flag:
"To you from failing hands
We throw the torch--
Be yours to hold it high."

post-finals celebration.

study break!

Module 1 is done. finished. terminated. As of last Friday.

That week was a wee bit stressful. I've been having a blast here, but especially on Tuesday night (I stayed up till five writing a midterm) and on Thursday night (preparing like mad for my final), I wished I had spent a little bit more time in the Kings library. The thing with Cambridge finals...it's impossible to cram for them. It's not memorization. It's understanding. And that only comes through lots and lots of reading and module-long preparation. Something about finals always freaks me out. Something about Cambridge finals freaks me out even more.

On Friday, the Gothic Architecture final started at 12:35. One hour. Two essays that decide 45% of your grade. GO. By 1:35 I was massaging my hand, but I was a free woman. Talk about liberation.

We just had to celebrate.

And we did.

First, we went shopping. We found a sa-weet vintage shop. We tried on all sorts of amazing items of clothing, as well as bought costumes for the Britannia Bop (it was "fancy dress"--meaning, costume party) that night.

We all met up for dinner at a Thai restaurant. I tried pad thai for the first time. I asked for it without peanuts...and it was so so so good. Amazingly flavorful compared to the cafeteria food that we usually eat. It was delicious food. Definitely something I would order again.

After dinner, we all went punting on the Cam. Since it was a bit later at night, there not nearly as many people on the river. So relaxing, punting is. For some reason, I had a harder time punting this time around...in fact, I came THIS close to falling in the river once. It was a scary moment, let me tell you.

Then...we went home to change...and all met up at The Hidden Rooms. The PKP programme had rented out an entire club for us. We danced like crazy until the place kicked us out at 12:30. It was insane. The rooms were SO hot and by the end of the night, the floors were wet with a rather disgusting mix of sweat and beer. Gross, right? It was still amazingly fun. Do it again in a heartbeat.

After the dancing, Chris (one of the great PA's here) took a group us out to The Maypole, a pub. We got drinks. Fun atmosphere. Great conversation.

I didn't get to sleep until after 3:30. Departure for my London trip was in less than six hours. Was it worth it? Oh, yes. Yes, it was.

"restricted access"

Something about those two words immediately makes you want to go in, huh. At least it does to me. My mom's always called it "reverse psychology." (I just googled it--it's a legit term).  

Oh, I can't go in? Now, I've GOT to go in! 

It's like how every time I see a "Don't Walk on the Grass" sign on the Kings college grass, I instantly want to dance all over it.

And how I've been meaning to go to the Fitzwilliam Museum for the past four weeks, but never have, just because it's right across the street, always free, and open to everybody. If it was restricted access, I would have been there within the first week, probably.

Such is life, I guess. But I digress.

I got an email one day from PKP, informing us that there would be a sign-up for ten people to see manuscripts dating from the eighth century in the restricted access library of Corpus Cristi college. I ran to the office, and got there just as they were printing off the sign-up sheet. Bless you, I was going to see those manuscripts.

When Henry VIII formed the Church of England, all the monasteries were dissolved. The master of Corpus Cristi, Archbishop Matthew Parker (1504-1575), began diligently seeking and collecting as many valuable manuscripts from the monasteries as possible before they became lost in time. When he died, he bequeathed his entire collection to his college.

The Parker library has one of the largest collections of medieval and renaissance literature in the world!! There's a sixth century Gospel book from Canterbury, Romanesque Bibles, old English manuscripts...

And thanks to the PKP programme, I saw them all!

There's something about old books that just fascinates me. I love them. I love the worn bindings, the torn corners, the fading ink, the smell, the mystery, the everything. The books were beautiful. I don't think I've ever wished I could read Olde English quite so much as today.

Needless to say, it was one heck of an experience.