Tagged: travel

Cityscapes and Countrysides

Sorry for the lack of posting. I’ve been quite busy traveling lately and haven’t had a chance to sit down and actual document everything until now. So here’s a sort of two-for-one post to make up for my absence.

A [Surprisingly Sunny] Day in London Town

Last weekend, I went on a trip to London with some of my friends and wow, what a city! It’s amazing to see the old and new come together: huge brick towers from centuries ago next to newly renovated all-glass buildings. We saw all of the classic London sites: the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, the Parliament Building, Hyde Park, the British Library, and Buckingham Palace – all so much more glorious than in pictures. It’s just amazing to think how old the city is compared to places like Chicago or New York.

Aside from the historical monuments, I managed to make it to probably my favorite site in all of London: the Harry Potter Studio Tour. Needless to say, the awkwardly-excited twelve year old Muggle in me almost died when the huge doors into the Great Hall opened and I walked into something straight out of my imagination. Seeing all of the actual costumes and artifacts was amazing, but the most magical moment was toward the end of the tour. One of the last rooms held the life size model of Hogwarts and all of its grounds. As the score from the movie played and the lights changed from day to night, illuminating each detail with small lights through the windows, I cried with joy. Literally. Ask my friend, Frank. He saw. But I don’t care, because it was pure magic to me. I couldn’t have imagined a better day sipping Butterbeer and nerding out to all of my childhood dreams.

Overall, London was a really interesting place to visit, but I would never live there. It was all a bit too big and hard to navigate for me (as well as much too expensive). But you’ve got to go once, at least, if you’re in England. You really can’t say that you’ve experienced British culture without taking a trip to London.

Now I Know Why They Paint the English Countryside

After coming down from a crazy, fast-paced weekend in the big city, I decided to join another group of friends for a day trip to the beautiful English countryside. We hopped on a bus at around seven in the morning and spent three hours drifting in and out of sleep as the sun rose over all of the beautiful landscapes we passed. We finally made it to the town of Chesterfield at around noon, and jumped on another bus to get to our final destination: the Chatsworth Manor. This magnificent stately home is where Pride and Prejudice was filmed, and where many Dukes and Duchesses have lived (and still currently own). The house is grand and filled with all kinds of antiques, sculptures, and paintings. On the ceilings and walls are brightly colored murals depicting religious scenes made specifically for the prior inhabitants of the house. The display of wealth and royalty was all so much to take in.

And the garden? If you think the house is spectacular, you’ll melt when you step outside and see acres and acres of landscape. From foreign flowers to a real hedge maze, it is nothing less than heavenly beauty. I’ve never seen anything like it. I could have spent the whole day just exploring the garden, and probably still would not have seen everything that’s there. It was stunning.

I used to wonder how these royal women could spend all their time secluded, only seeing their close friends and family, always staying on their grounds. Now I understand the appeal. I could live quietly in a manor like that, writing poetry and painting, hosting the occasional dinner party or ball, watching the sun set while sipping tea in my garden paradise. What a life they must have had.

Going from the busy to the quiet so quickly made me think a lot about place and the lives we can live. I’ve always thought that living in a city would be the ultimate goal, where life is always happening whether you want it to or not. But being in the city made me yearn for the quiet cottage home, or at least the middle ground of Liverpool. My bus ride to Chesterfield took this thought further, as I watched the different towns pass before me. I saw Manchester, an even bigger version of Liverpool. I could see myself there into my mid-twenties, exploring the nooks and crannies of the city. Then Sheffield, a seemingly suburban type place. A place to settle down, start a family. And then, Chesterfield. The countryside. Spending my latter years laughing over a cup of tea with an old friend, walking with my husband on a tree-lined path, discussing how the grandkids are doing, whether Johnny will ever marry that girl he’s been going with…

It’s amazing how place can shape how you live. How it can make possibilities limited, or endless. And how uprooting your life can completely change the way you see your world.

Cheers. x

The Pool of Life

Liverpool is known as “the Pool of Life” and I definitely see why. People here know how to live, and I mean actually live. It’s not like the high-strung, over-caffinated, do-everything-now sad excuse for life back in the States. In Liverpool, shops aren’t open everyday. There’s not a twenty-four hour place to get your mocha-frappa-cappa whatever or your double-quarter-triple pounder with cheese. It takes time for the food to get to your table, and you’re welcome to sit and enjoy your meal as long as you like.

I took a walk the other day down the main street, just to take in the scenery and get out of my room for a bit. I decided I was hungry, so I stopped in a little coffee shop that I passed to get some grub. It was mostly empty, aside from another young woman studying and a cute older couple drinking coffee and doing crossword puzzles out of the local newspaper. The cafe was small and decorated sort of like a tchotchke bin from an old woman’s basement. Cute faded pastels lined the walls and tablecloths, and little lamps lit the small room. There was one woman working, my guess was that she owned the shop, and she offered me a newspaper while I sat waiting for my traditional English breakfast. While I poured myself a cup of tea (with milk and sugar, of course) and read through the British headlines, I couldn’t help but realize that this would never be something that I would do in America. To start, quaint little coffee shops have all become extinct in the U.S. thanks to the Starbucks corporation. And, at home, I would never have the time or mental ability to sit and relax, without constantly starring at my cell phone or thinking about the list of ten million things that need to be done by tomorrow. In England, you are allowed to have time to yourself, away from work and stress, in order to just sit and be. For the first time I could read through a newspaper and eat at my own leisure. I could stare out the front window into the rainy afternoon and let my mind wander and take everything in. I have time here. I can live here.

Cheers. xoxo

On a side note: for all my family members who are dying to see pictures, here are a couple. I figure I should put something more than just my babbling on here to keep you updated.

You okay?

In America, when someone approaches you and asks, “are you okay?” it usually means that it seems like something is wrong. Not in England. Here, it is simply a statement of greeting, such as, “how are you?” This is only one of many things that I have discovered about other cultures since arriving in Liverpool last Saturday.

I’ve been here less than a week, and I already feel like so much has happened! That’s why I am just starting this blog now. My goal was to start it before leaving the U.S., but alas, it is 2:30am and I am only now getting around to it. I guess procrastination knows no borders.

Although I have already met many wonderful, wonderful people all from different places, I have yet to really get to know any British students! It turns out that the halls that I’m living in are more for international students, which means that I now have a variety of new countries to visit sometime in the future. From Finland to New York, my horizons have already begun to expand. And I love every minute of it.

It amazes me how much people have in common. Even though many of my new friends do not speak English as their first language, that barrier is not nearly as large as I expected. It usually makes for many jokes and good discussions about life, love, and even the occasional youtube sensation. I think, as an American, I always thought that people from other countries would live very different, maybe even more barbaric, lifestyles than myself. In reality, we are all still a bunch of young adults trying to figure things out for ourselves and hoping to find others who are doing the same.

It really struck me tonight. I was sitting with a bunch of my new girlfriends talking about friendships and guys and drama and the other silly things that we women talk about. As I was sharing some of my own stories, I looked around at the group: a boisterous Minnesotan, a wonderful Wisconsinite, a lovely Finn, and two fantastic girls from Madrid. What I saw wasn’t a bunch of countries and states, but simply people. People who understood me even though they may not have been able to catch every English word or phrase. They understood my heart.

 

But this is only the beginning. The first post of many. I can only imagine what is yet to come.

 

Cheers. xoxo