Okay. I have been derelict in my updating duties. I’ve been in London for about two weeks, and this is the first time that I have had the time to blog. I’m actually leaving London tomorrow morning, heading to York, so I probably won’t post for a bit until I get stable internet access again.

London is…definitely an interesting experience. I enjoy the city, it’s filled with great museums and beautiful cathedrals, exciting shows, movie premieres, and all sorts of different ethnic restaurants. That said - I’m excited about leaving. I’m not alone on the trip either - I think most people in the group are ready to abandon the city for greener, happier places. If nothing else I’ve learned that people either really enjoy big cities or are depressed by them (god, don’t I sound like a Kansan). It’s not really depressing per se, but it’s…grimy. Polluted. Crowded, hot, and humid. On the subway system, the Tube, during rush hour, there can be literally not a place to put your foot, it is so packed. And then when it’s crowded like that, pickpocketers, which are rampant in London, have a much easier time of it. One girl on our trip, who happened to be the girl that could least afford it, got picked within the first few days of our being here, and lost over $500.

The last few days, when we’ve had more free time to roam about London ourselves, have been better. I’m not sure if it’s the pace of the city that I can’t get accustomed to, or the pace of the program - the program is scheduled just like how Mary, my advisor and one of the profs on the program, talks - quick, rapid-fire and with little pause for breath. I keep falling behind when we’re all walking as a group, because I’ve stopped to take a picture of something, or admire a strange warning sign (they have some pretty quirky ones here). I’ve been nearly hit by a bus twice, and no wildlife except for pigeons and the Tube rats exist in the city, I believe, because of the great big doubledecker buses raging about the streets, plowing through crosswalks and hapless pedestrians.

The worst thing of all, is the fact that most of the people we encounter seem to hate us because we are tourists. I have started to get irritated with them back because, hey, we tourists bring them revenue. Lots of revenue, as we keep getting ripped off at every turn. In New Mexico, I understood and sympathized with people’s distrust of tourism - there, tourism takes on a more exploitative, somewhat racist form. Here, though, I’m getting sick of being treated rudely and being given dirty looks just because I don’t know how to get to Holborn station. Hey, I come from a country where everything was planned out on a grid. It’s not my fault I can’t divine how to get to a place by knowing what flavo(u)r of scone the Queen had with her tea last Wednesday - which, from what I’ve gathered through asking locals for directions, is how they find things here.
But I’m just whining again. It has been fun. My favorite parts of the trip so far have been our day trips outside of London, like to Oxford and Canterbury, so perhaps it’s just the city that’s bugging me.

Anyhoo, it will take more coherency of thought than I have right now to organize my pictures into a neatly summarized story, so I will just post them. I was up till about 3:30 last night finishing a paper, and doing my laundry, which was the harder task - the door to the washer got stuck and to unstick it, I had to run the cycle through again. Sometimes it’s the little things, like stuck washers and strange mayonnaise, that you don’t think to prepare for, that get you the most. Since then I’ve been traipsing all over London, wrapping up a few site visits before we leave for our next destination.

Both of these are of the Christchurch College campus, in Oxford. This is where Charles Dodson, aka Lewis Carroll, taught. Apparently he was a really dull lecturer and all the students loathed his classes.

The bookstore that was the basis for a scene in ‘Through the Looking Glass’ (I don’t remember the book very well; apparently it’s the shop where the sheep is knitting its own wool?)

Parliament building, London.

King’s Cross Station, the Tube in London. I thought this scene looked so perfectly desolate and like an Edward Hopper painting, so I snapped a few photos.

St. Paul’s Cathedral, London.

View from the top of St. Paul’s. It’s a little hazy because of all of the pollution. Another girl and I, though we are both extremely claustrophobic and terrified of high, winding staircases, made it up to see the great view.

Random ruined arch near the Museum of London.

Abbey at Canterbury, which I wish I could have spent all day at, but alas, my friend and I had to catch a bus parked on the other side of town, at a location unknown to our navigationally-challenged selves.

Sissinghurst Gardens, uh…I’m not sure where. Outside of London. Anyway, a woman named Vita Sackville-West and her husband bought the property and set about cultivating a great garden area, combining elements of Roman and English gardening techniques into an enchanting, Secret Garden-esque whole.

Same garden. We were all reluctant to return to the smelly streets of London after spending time here, inhaling the fresh, rose-scented air.

So that’s my trip so far, in a nutshell. Obviously more has happened, but as I am exhausted and I still need to (re)pack, I will postpone the telling until later. Hope you all are doing well, and I’ll write postcards. When I have time, and if I can afford these bloody expensive stamps. Yikes.