When theatre nerds congregate

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In this program, sometimes bizzare things happen on stage. Usually, I turn around and ask one of my helpful theatre majors what the heck is going on, but when the actors charged at each other with cutlery, well, even they were at a loss for words. Of course, we decided to recreate this oddity the moment we went outside, but we felt the teensiest bit bad when we saw an actor on his break, so we desisted.

Other strange things: the piano scene ('nuff said), bombs going off in Richard III, an interpretive jig (jigs in general, especially when the dancers were lying dead on stage moments before), moonlight throwing a hissy fit in Midsummer's, the balloon dance, and so much more...

Hello, Will

I just got back from a three day class trip to Stratford-on-Avon (Shakespeare's birthplace) with side trips to a few castles and Oxford University. It was cool, but Stratford cracked me up--we know so little about Shakespeare and his house as an adult was burned to the ground by a later owner who was sick of tourists interrupting his privacy, so everywhere we went the guides were like, "We're here in a Tudor house. About 20% of it is actually from the Tudor period. Now, Shakespeare didn't live here or touch anything here or really have anything to do with this place, but he MIGHT have talked to the owner and eaten here and this place shows up in Scene 2 of Act 3 of one of his lesser known plays. If you read the subtext. Maybe." It got a little ridiculous (I felt they were grasping at straws) but it was kind of cool, and I got some random Shakespearean and non shakespearean facts along the way.

My favorite part was, hands down, the Windmill pub. Three words: sticky toffee pudding. Three more words: extremely attractive bartender. For real! He was highly amused at our Americanness (AKA we couldn't understand a word he said and we went through 2 bottles of ketchup), and recommended the sticky toffee pudding which is basically a moist, dense cake swimming in molten custard and the whole thing is divine--Lyndi and I all but licked the plate.

You know you're in Stratford when the boats are all named for Shakespeare's leading ladies.

So how long have you been in Oxford?

That's what the Yale students who'd been studying there for six months asked me as we all browsed for sweatshirts in a store near the university. Well, about three hours, I admitted but I wanted a sweatshirt so here I was!

Before I came here, my dad made me promise to take advantage of all the opportunities here and live life's to it's fullest. "Buy the soup," was how he phrased it, referring to a super expensive but extremely memorable bowl of soup he ate in the south of Spain. I took his advice and have bought my own variations on Andalusian soup--theatre tickets, brownies, artwork, and now this Oxford sweatshirt. It's been so much fun!

As an added bonus, my roommate decided to treat herself with me and now we walk around matching all the time. Good stuff!

English roses

Everywhere you go, gardens. They're in parks and and beds randomly all over the city, and it's so fun! One afternoon I took a train out to Kew Gardens and spent all day sniffing azaleas and roses and flowers whose names I dont' even know. It was like I was in the credits of My Fair Lady when they show all of the beautiful flowers! For real--gorgeous! I love how flowers flourish in the craziness of a city.

And every time I see a particularly beautiful bush, I think of my mom and how she loves our little garden along the side of the house. I may be far away, but my family is alive and well in my thoughts!

I love to see the temple

A member of our group organized a trip to the temple, and it was a beautiful experience! To get there we had to take a bus, a tube, a train, and a cab, but once there the temple workers were helpful and it was so great to feel peace again. I got to help out my friend Lyndi with some family names which made it especially meaningful. I was so grateful for her friendship and forever families. I love the temple!

On a less spiritual note, the floor of the font is SUPER slippery and the food from the cafeteria is amazing.

Country walk (otherwise known as 8 mile death march)

In his quest to make us well-rounded, Renaissance students (or maybe just to tear some of us away from the playhouse), our coordinator, Brett, organized a country walk. Cool. People in Britain are into walking. Or at least they walk a lot in the six hour Pride and Prejudice. Like, a very lot. Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all...

The bad news: it was 8 miles long. The good news: the day was beautiful, and I totally see why Elizabeth Bennett spends a good two hours out of the six traipsing across the countryside. I may not be the biggest fan of rain, but it was all so green and gorgeous! We sang songs from obscure musicals, talked about favorite books, and took lots of pictures. ("It's just a field," said our guide, but that didn't stop us!) It was nice to get out in the country for a day.

Almost Royal

We were told to see the changing of the guard, but Lyndi and I only got around to it our last weekend. I went expecting expressionless men in funky hats. I found a crowd of hundreds pressing up against the gates as lines upon lines of guards walked and rode by.

Changing of the guard cannot always be this cool, I thought. And I was right--Lyndi and I had stumbled upon the dress rehearsal for the Queen's birthday bash next week! We spent two hours watching the horses and the riders do their thing and listening to the peppy queen's band and watching soldiers march in time. (I think I saw one smile!) And Prince Charles was SUPPOSED to show up and lead some salute from a podium about twenty feet from us, but he didn't show. Though Lyndi and I are 99% sure we saw him in the back of a limousine surrounded by a neon green motorcade. So, our accidental almost brush with royalty--London is so sweet! Thought I still have yet to see the Changing of the Guard...

Saturday in the Park (every other day too)

The people from last year's program raved about Hyde Park but I really couldn't see what the big deal was. I mean, it's a park. We have parks in Provo. (I think I was picturing a big swing set with the royal crest.) Next topic, please.

But oh no. It is not a park. It is a people watching and relaxing place with sun and shade for optimal temperature control and even a few bugs, but they're British bugs which makes it slightly cooler to squash them. I go to Hyde Park most days. Me and my journal, or me and my roommate . We talk only of the most important things--our feelings on baldness, if we'll ever feel grown up, what we would do to have a Frisbee and put on the best game of Ultimate London has ever seen.

So, when you come to this city of cities, hit the museums and catch the shows, but by all means go to the Park.

Picture compliments of Lyndi. Hyde Park is also a good place to eat Ritter Sport chocolate and pretend to be doing homework while you take artsy pictures. Lots and lots of artsy pictures.

Borough Market

I think Borough Market is my favorite place after Hyde Park. And the British Library. And Westminster... Well, it's up there.

Basically, it's an international Costco (free tasters!) but better--olives, artichoke hearts, weird cheese from Wales, falafel, olive oil, candied fruits, honeycomb dipped in chocolate, cinnamon cider... It's a feast for the eye as well as much as anything and the only difficulty is choosing between the potatoes dripping cheese, the piping Cornish meat pies, or fish and chips.

My roommates and I have already been here twice. Lyndi strategically moves throughout the stalls and tastes everything until she's ready for purchases; I follow her until I get impatient with testing and buy whatever catches my eye next. For dessert, I go with the densest brownies on the face of the planet (4 American dollars and worth every penny... or pence) or a bag of chocolate covered hazelnuts and oranges. My advice: stay away from the Welsh cheese. Took an entire falafel to get the taste out of my mouth.

Great Expectations...

The great philosopher Mark Twain said a thing long expected takes the form of the unexpected when at last it comes. And, as usual, he has it about right.

I'm in London now. I didn't expect the cherry soda to taste like cough syrup and I didn't expect it to rain every time I step out of the flat wearing sandals without my umbrella. Statistically, I think this is impossible but my drenched jeans say otherwise.

But I also didn't expect the rhythm of rain on the Thames, or the involuntary gasp when I saw Handel and the Brontes at Westminster, or the mental happy dance whenever someone calls me "love" and I realize all over again that I'm in London and the time is now.

You know in movies (well, chick flicks) when the protagonist goes to a faraway place but somehow discovers herself and they have the montage of music and foreign images while she walks the streets? (Think Sabrina.) Today that was me, and the song was "Black Balloon."

For the record: I'm spending 6 weeks in London with BYU study abroad and my friend Daniel pretty much forced me to do this blog. Over and out.