London differs from Michigan in one crucial aspect: at least one sudden cloudburst occurs on most days, and the time or likelihood of these downpours can in no way be predicted from either checking the weather report or looking at the sky. I have been caught in several of these, without the umbrella that I thought unnecessary when looking at the sunny morning horizon.
Most Londoners, will, when the drizzle begins, quickly pull out their raincoats and umbrellas and continue on unperturbed. Of the rest, those who can afford to wait do so, huddling under bridge overpasses and streetside cafes. Some simply stick their hands in their pockets and start walking a bit faster. A few pull out their cameras to catch a shot of Big Ben and the sunlight-freckled-spires of Parliament across the river and through the mist (which I have to admit, made an amazing picture).
They are used to unpredictability, here.
Tuesday, 25 September 2007
Some other adventures and strange things...
As far as I can tell, flirtation here is an entirely different beast than in the States. As some of you have heard, last week I was confronted by an Irishman on my way home along the river, who asked me loads of questions about my studies and travels, and was forward enough to rub my shoulder as we were walking. A good ten minutes of talking later, he says, "Well, love, you probably can't help me since you're new here, but I need a banknote."
In other words, he was a bum, and that was the strangest appeal for money I ever hope to encounter.
Furthermore, earlier today, during my break from classes, I was exploring the nearby streets and happened to stop to buy several interesting-looking postcards at a newsstand. When I went into the store to pay for them, the man at the counter commented on my accent (which he said sounded odd for an American), and struck up a conversation with me, asking me what I was doing in London, where I was studying, and what I was doing right now. I replied that I was going for lunch during my break from classes.
He replied, "Oh, well I'm just leaving for my break! Let's go get lunch, then."
I decided to go along with this plan. He was, after all, very friendly, and could probably show me a good local restaurant that I would otherwise be unable to find. We walked to the nearby Covent Plaza, where there are numerous restaurants and shops. In a very "I'm the man, and must take charge and order for the lady" manner, he ordered my food (a hearty, steaming baked potato stuffed with baked beans), paid for it, and decided where we would sit. He continued to ask me questions throughout the meal: what kind of music do I like, what's my favorite food, where was I planning on travelling, etc. From here, he began to ask me about my weekend plans, and seemed to think it perfectly appropriate to suggest we go to Brighton or Edinburgh together for the weekend!
I did my best to discreetly decline; but he was very persistent, and in the end wrote down his number for me "in case I'm bored and want to go out for a drink or something."
He was very reluctant to say goodbye, but I said I had class and had to go. Still, he insisted on planting a kiss on my cheek before I left.
And all this from an innocent coversation with a cashier at the newsstand! I was very bemused after the event.
My conclusion: the men I have met thus far in England are much too touchy for my claustrophobic and independent tastes, and I will not be calling "Jazz," as my pursuer called himself.
In other words, he was a bum, and that was the strangest appeal for money I ever hope to encounter.
Furthermore, earlier today, during my break from classes, I was exploring the nearby streets and happened to stop to buy several interesting-looking postcards at a newsstand. When I went into the store to pay for them, the man at the counter commented on my accent (which he said sounded odd for an American), and struck up a conversation with me, asking me what I was doing in London, where I was studying, and what I was doing right now. I replied that I was going for lunch during my break from classes.
He replied, "Oh, well I'm just leaving for my break! Let's go get lunch, then."
I decided to go along with this plan. He was, after all, very friendly, and could probably show me a good local restaurant that I would otherwise be unable to find. We walked to the nearby Covent Plaza, where there are numerous restaurants and shops. In a very "I'm the man, and must take charge and order for the lady" manner, he ordered my food (a hearty, steaming baked potato stuffed with baked beans), paid for it, and decided where we would sit. He continued to ask me questions throughout the meal: what kind of music do I like, what's my favorite food, where was I planning on travelling, etc. From here, he began to ask me about my weekend plans, and seemed to think it perfectly appropriate to suggest we go to Brighton or Edinburgh together for the weekend!
I did my best to discreetly decline; but he was very persistent, and in the end wrote down his number for me "in case I'm bored and want to go out for a drink or something."
He was very reluctant to say goodbye, but I said I had class and had to go. Still, he insisted on planting a kiss on my cheek before I left.
And all this from an innocent coversation with a cashier at the newsstand! I was very bemused after the event.
My conclusion: the men I have met thus far in England are much too touchy for my claustrophobic and independent tastes, and I will not be calling "Jazz," as my pursuer called himself.
And so it begins (my quest for knowledge, that is).
Classes started yesterday. Unfortunately, Monday morning arrived a bit later than it was supposed to, and I had failed to plan ahead for the labyrinth I was to encounter upon entering the college buildings. By the time I discovered where my first lecture was, I was 40 minutes late (out of an hour-long class), and was too embarrassed to enter.
I finally realized, however, that upon entering the building, nearly everyone (even the Brits) proceeds to the reception desk, where students are to quote the room number they are looking for, and are promptly discharged by the clerks to their proper destination. This discovery has made finding the rest of my classes infinitely easier.
My first class, Subjects of Desire in Medieval Religious Writings, is fascinating so far. Luckily the lectures and seminars are taught by the same professor in this instance, so I was able to catch up for the lecture I missed, and no harm done. This week, we will be reading St. Augustine's Confessions, which promises to be a very interesting work (from the five paragraphs I have read so far). :)
Elizabethan Shakespeare is, so far, the most challenging of my courses. We covered a very extensive amount of the historical and cultural context of Shakespeare's plays today, delving into the War of the Roses, the family trees of the Yorks and Lancasters, and the ascension of the Tudor kings. However, the professors, Sonia and Gordon, are both very friendly. Sonia is a slightly intimidating, fast-paced woman whose accent I cannot place, though it is decidedly not British; while Gordon is a frumpy, bumbling, spectacled middle-aged man who is quite British, and the easiest person in the world to approach and learn from.
History of English is a bit dry so far (to be expected, perhaps), but I am operating under the assumption that it will become more interesting as we get into the meat of the course, and the origins of the English language.
I finally realized, however, that upon entering the building, nearly everyone (even the Brits) proceeds to the reception desk, where students are to quote the room number they are looking for, and are promptly discharged by the clerks to their proper destination. This discovery has made finding the rest of my classes infinitely easier.
My first class, Subjects of Desire in Medieval Religious Writings, is fascinating so far. Luckily the lectures and seminars are taught by the same professor in this instance, so I was able to catch up for the lecture I missed, and no harm done. This week, we will be reading St. Augustine's Confessions, which promises to be a very interesting work (from the five paragraphs I have read so far). :)
Elizabethan Shakespeare is, so far, the most challenging of my courses. We covered a very extensive amount of the historical and cultural context of Shakespeare's plays today, delving into the War of the Roses, the family trees of the Yorks and Lancasters, and the ascension of the Tudor kings. However, the professors, Sonia and Gordon, are both very friendly. Sonia is a slightly intimidating, fast-paced woman whose accent I cannot place, though it is decidedly not British; while Gordon is a frumpy, bumbling, spectacled middle-aged man who is quite British, and the easiest person in the world to approach and learn from.
History of English is a bit dry so far (to be expected, perhaps), but I am operating under the assumption that it will become more interesting as we get into the meat of the course, and the origins of the English language.
Saturday, 22 September 2007
Oh, and here's my address...
Brian Creamer House
216a Lambeth Road, Rm. S10
London SE1 7JY
(for those of you who are interested).
216a Lambeth Road, Rm. S10
London SE1 7JY
(for those of you who are interested).
I'm here!
I've been in London for a week, and I'm feeling much better than when I stepped off the airplane. For those of you who haven't heard the story, I was coming down with a cold when I left the airport in Michigan, and it only got worse during the eight-hour plane ride. By the time we landed, I was nauseous, sniffling, running a fever, and half-deaf from the pressure in my ears. After dragging myself through customs (luckily, I had no problems), I got a cab, where I proceeded to throw up. When I finally made it to my dorm, I got the keys to my room, dragged my bags up the stairs, and collapsed on my glorious bed for the remainder of the day. Even grocery shopping was to wait until the morrow.
One week later, I have thankfully recovered from that lovely ordeal. I have spent most of my time here simply wandering the area accompanied by my maps, getting lost several times, and eventually progressing to the point where I can give Brits directions to locations within my district. My legs are continually tired, but I am rewarded by the friendly familiarity I have already aquired for Lambeth Bridge and its surrounding neighborhood.
I finally registered for classes yesterday, and they are as follows:
Subjects of Desire in Medieval Religious Writings
Elizabethan Shakespeare
Irish Literature and Culture
A Language of Peculiar Grace: A Modern History of English
Classes begin Monday, 24 September.
Today, I rode on the London Eye (the gigantic "ferris wheel" about fifteen minutes from my dorm along the Thames river). I must confess, the sight from the top was not as impressive as I was expecting...but perhaps I was building myself up too much. I have heard from others that the lights are marvelous if you take a ride after nightfall, so perhaps I will do so in the future.
I found out that the Museum of Garden History, near Lambeth Bridge, holds live jazz concerts most nights, and I decided to go to one. It was highly sophisticated for such a small venue, and I was provided with a full vegetarian meal and access to the bar. Oddly, the opening band was much more entertaining to listen to (at least to my untrained ear) than the star performance later. I am usually not much of a fan for jazz, but as always, live music is much better. The first band was poignant with their songs and hilarious with their antics, and the final group was lovely, if not quite as remarkable.
It is colder here; it feels like October during the day and November during the nights, and the leaves have begun to fall in earnest. As far as my residence is concerned, most or all of my neighbors are British freshmen, which, while they are friendly and enthusiastic, has made it harder to form friendships with them, especially since I cannot share their enthusiasm for spending all night (every night) at nearby pubs.
Then again, it does often take me longer than most to warm up to people, and I am sure I will meet more like-minded individuals once classes begin.
I hope I haven't bored you too much! I hope to be able to write about more exciting things in the future, but for now, goodbye, and cheers.
One week later, I have thankfully recovered from that lovely ordeal. I have spent most of my time here simply wandering the area accompanied by my maps, getting lost several times, and eventually progressing to the point where I can give Brits directions to locations within my district. My legs are continually tired, but I am rewarded by the friendly familiarity I have already aquired for Lambeth Bridge and its surrounding neighborhood.
I finally registered for classes yesterday, and they are as follows:
Subjects of Desire in Medieval Religious Writings
Elizabethan Shakespeare
Irish Literature and Culture
A Language of Peculiar Grace: A Modern History of English
Classes begin Monday, 24 September.
Today, I rode on the London Eye (the gigantic "ferris wheel" about fifteen minutes from my dorm along the Thames river). I must confess, the sight from the top was not as impressive as I was expecting...but perhaps I was building myself up too much. I have heard from others that the lights are marvelous if you take a ride after nightfall, so perhaps I will do so in the future.
I found out that the Museum of Garden History, near Lambeth Bridge, holds live jazz concerts most nights, and I decided to go to one. It was highly sophisticated for such a small venue, and I was provided with a full vegetarian meal and access to the bar. Oddly, the opening band was much more entertaining to listen to (at least to my untrained ear) than the star performance later. I am usually not much of a fan for jazz, but as always, live music is much better. The first band was poignant with their songs and hilarious with their antics, and the final group was lovely, if not quite as remarkable.
It is colder here; it feels like October during the day and November during the nights, and the leaves have begun to fall in earnest. As far as my residence is concerned, most or all of my neighbors are British freshmen, which, while they are friendly and enthusiastic, has made it harder to form friendships with them, especially since I cannot share their enthusiasm for spending all night (every night) at nearby pubs.
Then again, it does often take me longer than most to warm up to people, and I am sure I will meet more like-minded individuals once classes begin.
I hope I haven't bored you too much! I hope to be able to write about more exciting things in the future, but for now, goodbye, and cheers.
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