I'm half-way through the school term now, and I've just turned in my mid-term coursework. (Read: I've just returned from a three-day trip to completely-nutty-and-off-my-rocker land, where I somehow produced a coherent essay on the Song of Songs, and a ridiculously long data-analysis of Old-English and Middle-English verb conjugations and noun inflections (ugh!), all in between the mild hallucinations that functioned as a substitute for sleep.)
But we're done with that now! and back to my relatively sane existence, where I've been treating myself to butter-caramels and frequent bubble-baths to sooth my mildly traumatized brain. ("It's okay, sweety. It's over now.")
The weather is progressing from cold to frigid here, and I've actually begun to wear my winter coat most of the time. Every day after class, I arm myself with a large hot cocoa to help me survive the thirty-minute walk home.
The upside of this is that after the now-early sundown, many of the streets are lit beautifully with Christmas lights. The plaza of Somerset House, right next to campus, has been converted from a summertime perfect-for-coffee plaza, complete with choreographed fountains, to an enormous ice-rink, sporting a lavishly decorated and lighted Christmas tree, which might be half as tall as Big Ben. And, of course, a cute little shop with hot drinks on the side. I can't wait to go.
In other news, we celebrated November 5th (Remember, remember the Fifth of November!) about a week and a half ago. There were extravagant displays of fireworks for about a week surrounding the date, and people are still occasionally setting off their own personal fireworks. It's like a British Fourth of July. The night itself ("Bonfire Night"), people make bonfires all across the city, onto which they throw effigies of Guy Fawkes, and sometimes the Pope as well (no offense meant to Catholics, I'm sure).
On that note, I'm off for some late-night reading and tea, possibly another bubble-bath, and then my lovely bed. Catch you later, loves.
Wednesday, 14 November 2007
A to-do list that would make any english nerd drool, and one or two for the general public.
Apologies to all for my extended absence! Here are some of the more interesting things that I've been up to:
1. Westminster Abbey. (!!!) Considering that one of the things I most wanted to see in London was the Poets' Corner, and also that I basically live right across the river from the Abbey, it's really quite pathetic that it took me this long. It was well worth the trip, though. I probably spent a good three hours inside, wandering through all of the tombs and cloisters. It's quite an eerie feeling, to know that you're treading on the graves of so many of the influential people from England's past (especially knowing that the Abbey is no longer accepting people to be buried there--it's too full!). The Poets' Corner wasn't quite as impressive as I wanted it to be, but then how could it have been, when I was expecting so much? I had to laugh, though, when I saw Chaucer's grave--which is all of four feet in length. A small reminder, I suppose, of a (slightly-humorous) reality in a place that otherwise inspires nothing but awe.
There are several enclosed gardens attached to the Abbey, and as the day of my visit was cloudy and misty, I was the only one who ventured outside. It gave me an elated feeling of exploration; the gardens are overgrown in parts, with plenty of moss-covered benches, crumbling steps, and vine-entangled statues which, when stumbled upon, give the visitor the impression of having stumbled upon some ancient secret.
2. "Vinopolis." Several of my housemates and I went for a wine-tasting tour nearby, where we received a tutorial on how to taste and evaluate wine like professionals, and tried various wines, as well as a few varieties of beer, absinthe, and Scottish whiskey. And while I still don't like beer, and am not at all sure that I could tell you whether a particular wine smells metallic or not, I did make some discoveries about my preferences. Apparently, 1. I'm in love with Brazilian Chardonnay, 2. I prefer the stronger French variety of absinthe to its weak and minty Czech counterpart, and 3. Scottish "Talisker" whiskey, which savors of peat-smoke and pepper, and burns like hell-fire going down, is among the most beautiful things I have ever tasted.
And then, hilarity ensued as we walked back home through the rain (who knew? It actually does rain constantly in London!), with, of course, that lovely warm feeling in our stomachs.
3. Love's Labour's Lost at the reconstructed Globe theatre. I went to this particular event quite a while ago, but it bears mentioning. The theatre itself is a very realistic replica of the original, complete with the "groundling" area, where my £5 ticket landed me. It misted during the performance (it's open-air, of course!), so those of us not in the covered, royal seats were obliged to put up our hoods. The absence of a roof adds another quaint charm to the play: it is constantly interrupted by the presence of pigeons flying down and alighting on the stage, which problem is generally remedied by the more mischievous of the play's characters running at the birds to chase them off into the rafters (and sometimes into the crowd).
The play itself was well put-on, I thought, and hilarious, of course. It was a bit of a shock to walk out of the theatre area and into the Globe's cafe/lobby, which is the epitome of modern sophistication. And here I'd gone and imagined myself into the scenes of Shakespeare in Love.
4. Romeo and Juliet, put on by the Royal Ballet, at the Royal Opera House. This was my first ballet, and I was up in the nosebleed seats (as you doubtless will have guessed), next to an adorable Japanese-English couple who, judging by their witty commentary, were clearly more experienced at the whole "ballet" thing than I. Nonetheless, I enjoyed the performance very much. Despite the absence of dialogue, it was absolutely hilarious in parts (my favorite being the party-crashing scene at the Capulet ball), and moving in others. I actually cried a bit at the end, which hasn't happened in a long time with this particular play.
1. Westminster Abbey. (!!!) Considering that one of the things I most wanted to see in London was the Poets' Corner, and also that I basically live right across the river from the Abbey, it's really quite pathetic that it took me this long. It was well worth the trip, though. I probably spent a good three hours inside, wandering through all of the tombs and cloisters. It's quite an eerie feeling, to know that you're treading on the graves of so many of the influential people from England's past (especially knowing that the Abbey is no longer accepting people to be buried there--it's too full!). The Poets' Corner wasn't quite as impressive as I wanted it to be, but then how could it have been, when I was expecting so much? I had to laugh, though, when I saw Chaucer's grave--which is all of four feet in length. A small reminder, I suppose, of a (slightly-humorous) reality in a place that otherwise inspires nothing but awe.
There are several enclosed gardens attached to the Abbey, and as the day of my visit was cloudy and misty, I was the only one who ventured outside. It gave me an elated feeling of exploration; the gardens are overgrown in parts, with plenty of moss-covered benches, crumbling steps, and vine-entangled statues which, when stumbled upon, give the visitor the impression of having stumbled upon some ancient secret.
2. "Vinopolis." Several of my housemates and I went for a wine-tasting tour nearby, where we received a tutorial on how to taste and evaluate wine like professionals, and tried various wines, as well as a few varieties of beer, absinthe, and Scottish whiskey. And while I still don't like beer, and am not at all sure that I could tell you whether a particular wine smells metallic or not, I did make some discoveries about my preferences. Apparently, 1. I'm in love with Brazilian Chardonnay, 2. I prefer the stronger French variety of absinthe to its weak and minty Czech counterpart, and 3. Scottish "Talisker" whiskey, which savors of peat-smoke and pepper, and burns like hell-fire going down, is among the most beautiful things I have ever tasted.
And then, hilarity ensued as we walked back home through the rain (who knew? It actually does rain constantly in London!), with, of course, that lovely warm feeling in our stomachs.
3. Love's Labour's Lost at the reconstructed Globe theatre. I went to this particular event quite a while ago, but it bears mentioning. The theatre itself is a very realistic replica of the original, complete with the "groundling" area, where my £5 ticket landed me. It misted during the performance (it's open-air, of course!), so those of us not in the covered, royal seats were obliged to put up our hoods. The absence of a roof adds another quaint charm to the play: it is constantly interrupted by the presence of pigeons flying down and alighting on the stage, which problem is generally remedied by the more mischievous of the play's characters running at the birds to chase them off into the rafters (and sometimes into the crowd).
The play itself was well put-on, I thought, and hilarious, of course. It was a bit of a shock to walk out of the theatre area and into the Globe's cafe/lobby, which is the epitome of modern sophistication. And here I'd gone and imagined myself into the scenes of Shakespeare in Love.
4. Romeo and Juliet, put on by the Royal Ballet, at the Royal Opera House. This was my first ballet, and I was up in the nosebleed seats (as you doubtless will have guessed), next to an adorable Japanese-English couple who, judging by their witty commentary, were clearly more experienced at the whole "ballet" thing than I. Nonetheless, I enjoyed the performance very much. Despite the absence of dialogue, it was absolutely hilarious in parts (my favorite being the party-crashing scene at the Capulet ball), and moving in others. I actually cried a bit at the end, which hasn't happened in a long time with this particular play.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
