Second London Trip

Tuesday we had class and ran errands and tried to get to bed early because we were headed to London again on Wednesday. I got to bed about 10:15 – a miracle for me – but had a hard time falling asleep. I couldn’t get my brain to turn off, and then I started stressing about getting to sleep because I knew I had to get up at 5 am. In the midst of my tossing and turning, I heard a little scratching noise and I froze. I was convinced I had imagined it. Then I heard it again: the distinct sound of little claws clicking on the wood floor under my bed. That’s right. I have a mouse living under my bed. I could hear it scurrying around, looking for something to nibble on, and I was too terrified to move.

Important to note is the fact that I am not normally afraid of mice. They don’t make me scream and run or jump on chairs or anything silly like that. But to hear that sound under your bed, late at night, alone, when everyone else is asleep, and your lights don’t work, is quite a petrifying experience.

I think it took me twenty minutes to get up the courage to grab my flip flops and run down to the kitchen, where I knew we had some poison under the sink. I grabbed the packet and ran back upstairs, sleep completely forgotten. I opened it, slid it under my bed and hurriedly climbed back under the covers. And shivered.

But I could still hear them (I don’t actually know how many there were). And the sound was driving me absolutely insane. So about 12:30 when our front door opened and I could hear some of the girls talking, I ran downstairs, anxious for any way out of that bedroom. Two of my roommates had gone to a late showing of Harry Potter and were just getting home. I told them my sob story of the scary mice under my bed and they were just as horrified. So we grabbed our blankets and pillows and slept on the couches of the Welsh house. I got probably 2-3 hours of sleep before we had to be up again to catch the train. It was going to be a long day.

The group I was with had plans to go to Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens, the Tower of London, and finish the day with Les Miserables at Queen’s Theatre, to which we had bought tickets two weeks before on our first day in London. Well, everyone in the program started at the Museum of London and then we split up, so we opted to do the Tower of London first since it was pretty close and Westminster was on the other side of the city.

We paid to get into the Tower, and it was well worth it in my opinion. We spent almost three hours touring the rooms and the shops and seeing the crown jewels (my favorite part!). When that was over, we ducked into a souvenir shop to grab a few things, then got on the tube to see when Westminster did their Evensong (the way to get into a cathedral for free). By the time we got there, we had only an hour and a half until we had to be back for Evensong, so we raced over to Kensington Gardens to see if we could see anything cool in that time frame.

It turns out that we couldn’t. We grabbed some food because we were all starving by this time, and ate it as we ran back to the tube station and got on the right line but going the wrong direction so we had to get off and turn around and ride another twenty minutes and then run to Westminster in time to get really great seats…at a non-choired (I made up that word) Evensong. Just our luck that the one night a week that they do a spoken-only service happens to be the night we’re there. Dandy. And they didn’t even open up the halls so we could see anything cool. No Poet’s Corner for us! I was pretty disappointed. The only monuments we could get to were to people I’ve never heard of before. And then I felt bad for not knowing who they were. Way to be a downer, Westminster.

Between Westminster and Queen’s Theatre, though, we had some time to get a real dinner. And by real dinner I mean McDonald’s. And it was packed, so we had to eat our burgers out on the street. Awesome. By the time we got to the theatre, I was ready for the day to get better. I had been tired and hot and hungry nearly all day, surrounded by twelve million people intent on running me over.

Well it definitely got better. I had never seen Les Miserables before, and this production was the way to experience it. Our seats were way up on the top tier, but we still had a pretty great view of the stage. The stage itself was pretty small, but they made good use of it by employing a big turntable contraption that must have been a nightmare during blocking, but in production was genius. The singing was absolutely amazing, the acting was fabulous, the sets and costumes perfect. I’m a big fan. I cried more than once, and pretty hard, too. Worth every single penny I paid to see it.

After the show, we all dried our tears and made our way back to the main tube station to meet with everyone else. Surprise surprise, our train to Cardiff got delayed. We didn’t leave Paddington Station until after midnight, but at least this time the train took us all the way to Cardiff. We got into the central train station at about 2:15 and started on the two mile walk home. But the day was not over.

Our route happened to take us through downtown Cardiff, where we were witnesses to all the “drunken revelry” that I’ve never really quite experienced in the States, much less in a country famed for its liquor-holding citizens. For the most part people left us alone, making fools of themselves without any regard to who was watching. But we got to Queen Street and a group of guys caught sight of us, walking en masse, fully clothed and carrying backpacks. I guess that tipped them off. Here is a sample of what followed:

“Jack, look, foreigners!”
“Oh, foreigners!”
“Ah, a school group! Nos da!”
“Maybe they’re Spanish! Buenos Dias!”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” (This yelled while doing some corruption of a jumping-jack, achieved with surprising agility considering the offender was SLAMMED)
Chorus of “Buenos Dias!”
“Jack, you plonker, I don’t think they’re Spanish!”
“German? Guten taaaaaag! Guten taaag!”
“Mate, they’re not Germans.”“Then what could they be? Guten taaaaaaaaaaag!”

We had to wait until we were two blocks away before we finally let out the laughter. If drunk people only knew how dumb they looked.

We got home and I slept so soundly that if the mice came out again, I never knew it.

Museum of London. I am skeptical that London is actually burning...
In front of the Tower of London. Sorry it's so dark.The Ivory Tower part of the Tower of LondonIn front of the Tower BridgeThe part of St Paul's Cathedral that didn't have scaffolding on itThis pedestal was just begging for a statue pose... I realize it's not the most flattering pose, but oh wellI'm in Kensington Gardens!In front of Westminster AbbeyWestminsterBig BenSitting in Paddington Station, waiting for our train to Cardiff

More Cardiff

So here’s a little bit more about our living arrangements:
Our entire group is split up between three houses: the Family House (also known as the house on Cyfarthfa) which has our program director Tom, his wife Katy, and two of the history students; the History House, which has seven history students (including me) and Tom and Katy’s daughter Zoey; and finally the Welsh House, which has the five students studying Welsh. The History and Welsh houses are on the same street, so we all get together and hang out a lot in the evenings and afternoons and whenever we’re free.

On days when we don’t travel, we have class. The Welsh students go over to Cyfarthfa with Tom, and Katy comes to the History house and we watch movies about the history of Wales. And usually make our own running commentary. We have learned that something important happened in 1066, but none of us can ever remember exactly what it was. Apparently it means a lot to the Brits. I dunno.

Monday and Tuesday of this last week were spent in class and then we had our afternoons and evenings free. We’ve done some exploring of Cardiff and going to internet cafes and watching movies on computers and talking until the early morning hours. Our entire group is just wonderful. We’ve grown pretty close in the last few weeks since we spend every waking hour together. We have running jokes about Tom’s jokes and Hannah’s vegetarianism and Camilla’s propensity toward getting lost and Shannon’s shoe obsession that are growing too complicated to explain : )

Cardiff is a pretty colorful city. We live in student housing north of Cardiff University, so there are lots of college-aged people and businesses marketed toward that age group. There are lots of Middle-Eastern and Indian people that open up Halal Butcher shops (which are apparently like kosher is for Jewish people…I think), and “American Fried Chicken” and fish and chip shops and kebabs and pizza. We don’t go hungry, that’s for sure.

We also don’t go without chocolate. I thought I liked chocolate back home, but WOW, the chocolate here is ten million times better. They can make it creamier and with a lot less wax because it doesn’t have to work for such a broad variety of climates like it does in the States. It’s amazing and I’ve never eaten so much chocolate as I have in the last three weeks. It’s embarrassing.

I’m also getting used to the whole driving-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-road thing. Not that I’ve been driving here, but my first few days were a heart attack waiting to happen; I kept thinking that cars were going to collide because they weren’t going the right way. You would think that after a few of those incidents I’d get the idea, but believe me, it’s a recent development for me to feel comfortable watching cars drive down the road.

I also love their lingo. “Cheers,” whenever you leave a café or museum or anything. “Ta-ta” is a common parting word. And the waiter isn’t being smart-alecky when he calls you “love.” It’s pretty fun to watch their reactions to our accents, especially when Shannon turns on her Texas drawl. But we’ve learned a few words to stay away from, too. You never refer to the bottom half of your wardrobe as your “pants.” Apparently that word refers to men’s underclothing. You call them “jeans” or “trousers” or anything but “pants.” And the rest of what I’ve learned…well…that’ll just be on an ask-and-tell basis, haha.

Stonehenge Pictures

I completely forgot to add these on the Cathedrals and Druids post!

Ta da!

Peek-a-boo!

Right at sunset

I'm at Stonehenge! Barefoot!

Squish!

These pictures are really hard to do by yourself...

TreTower and Hay on Wye

I shouldn’t even mention TreTower – it was closed for construction, so we couldn’t even get in. Lame.

But that meant arriving early, at 10:30 am, in Hay on Wye, a little town half in England and half in Wales that is entirely focused on the used book trade. I found some really neat books and there was one shop that sold original prints and illustrations, most over 100 years old. I didn’t buy anything there, but it sure was tempting. By 2 pm, we were all broke and started looking for Tom to tell him to take us home before we started selling body parts to buy more books :) It was really pathetic.

The local YSA group had invited us to come with them to a big regional dance in Reading (just outside London) on Friday night. I didn’t go because I was too tired and way behind on my journal entries for class that week. But when I had caught up on most of them, those of us who stayed behind watched a movie on Camilla’s computer and just sat around and talked. It was great to finally have a break from the crazy week!

Pwll Mawr

No, that’s not a spelling error. It’s the name of the biggest coal mine in Wales, and it means “Big Pit.” Margaret Thatcher closed all the remaining coal mines in Wales by the 80s, ending the biggest industry of the area for over 100 years. The miners and colliers of South Wales therefore hate her for taking away their livelihood, even if it did put a stop to all the premature deaths and dangerous conditions.

Our group got to tour the mine last Thursday, led by a former miner named Jake :) We got big leather belts with the following attached: batteries for our headlamps and rescue oxygen masks. You would think with only two items on the belts it would be an easy load. But you’d be wrong. They were really heavy. Safety measures were such that batteries – those in cell phones, watches, ipods, and of course cameras – were not allowed down the shaft, so I unfortunately do not have pictures of this outing. We got into a big elevator and descended to 300 feet below the ground, which is very shallow. Some mines go over 2,000 feet down, so I was glad we weren’t that far. I almost expected to panic at being so far underground, but the air was freezing, so I was concentrating more on staying warm than the idea that I might be claustrophobic. We got a really interesting tour, and Jake told us all about mining conditions and workers in different eras, all the way up to present day. Some children as young as six were called “trappers” and basically opened and closed doors throughout the mine, but often their parents were too poor to afford candles for them, so they had to do it in the dark. Then Jake had us all turn out our head lamps to show us what that would be like. And because I’m sure he wanted to hear all our girlish screams, he explained that rats often infested the mine, and would run over the children’s bare feet. We were quick to turn the head lamps back on.

In general I actually enjoyed the tour. How many people get to hear Eucharist in a cathedral, sit on Stonehenge, and climb through a coal mine, all in a 24 hour period?

After the mine tour, we went across the town to where the ironworks had been, the place that processed the limestone, iron, and coal from the mine. That was a decidedly chilling tour. There are a few sparse remains of the brick buildings and big furnaces, but the audio tour was intent on telling us some gruesome death that regularly occurred in each spot we stopped. I was happy to leave.
The stones in front of the big furnace got so hot they actually melted. Freaky.
To end the day we went to Caerleon, another Roman hillfort, and saw the baths and barracks that had been there. My camera batteries died, so when we got a chance to dress up in Roman armor, I had to rely on someone else getting a picture. They had a pretty cool museum filled with all the things they found in the drains of the baths when they were excavating them in the 70s. There were tons of gemstones and pottery shards and coins and such. It was a neat site, but I was kinda burnt out on Roman forts by that point. It started raining on us when we were touring the barracks, so we had to run back to the van and had a very wet ride back to Cardiff.

So ended Thursday.

Cathedrals and Druids

If I thought Tuesday was a long day, Wednesday was longer. We started at around the same time, but the drive to Winchester was more than two hours. As Tom would say, those British Miles really get you. Apparently it takes longer to drive to things here because the speed limit is lower and you have to go through so many roundabouts. Anyway, we first went to Winchester Cathedral. We couldn’t immediately get in to see everything because it was St. Swithin’s Day – their cathedral’s patron saint – so they were having a special mass. But the music and atmosphere was just beautiful. They had a bible there from the 1500s, and several other literary points of interest, including a poem by Jane Austen written in her own hand commemorating the anniversary of the death of one of her friends. My favorite part of this visit was seeing Jane Austen’s burial site in one of the main hallways. It had flowers on it, and a beautiful plaque telling what a wonderful person and writer she was :)

After Winchester, we drove over to Salisbury and saw the ruins of another Roman/Norman hillfort where the original Salisbury Cathedral was. After some disagreement between the church and some local noblemen, the town was virtually relocated from the top of the hill to the valley below, where it is now. Salisbury Cathedral has the tallest spire of any cathedral in Europe – 404 feet. It stood far above the rest of the buildings on the horizon. We drove down to it and spent a few hours looking around, then stayed for Evensong. It was quite an experience to be in a cathedral as a service was taking place, with the sound of the small and very young choir filling the cavernous space and sunlight streaming in through the stained-glass windows.

When Evensong was over, we stopped for dinner at a great little pub and then went back in the van – already very tired but with a few things still up ahead. Tom had booked us a private evening visit to Stonehenge. Most tourists get to walk by it and snap a few pictures and hear a little schpiel from a tour guide. But they opened the ropes for us and we got right up next to it – touched it, sat on it, danced around it! We roamed around the stones for over an hour, taking pictures and talking about its history and speculations on its origins and purpose. It was right before sunset, too. Talk about a once in a lifetime experience…

But we had one more stop to make before we got home. There is a site close to Stonehenge called Avebury. It’s a little village in a valley that is surrounded and filled with stones similar to those at Stonehenge, but more spread out and for the most part smaller (although we saw a few behemoths that make Stonehenge look like play blocks). These stones aren’t as protected, though. They’re scattered across lawns, fields, even backyards, with hay bales stacked next to them and sheep wandering between them. It was pretty incredible.

Then we got to go home and to bed! Whew!

Winchester
Outside of Winchester
Beautiful screen inside Winchester - the most ornate carving I've seen in my life. Sorry my camera didn't catch it too well. My hands shake and that makes the picture blurry.Me in front of Jane Austen's memorial at Winchester
I'm holding up THE Round Table! Well, the Winchester Great Hall claims it as such...

Next to the river going through the town of SalisburySalisbury Cathedral, with nasty construction going on. Boo.
Inside Salisbury. I love the beautiful blue stained-glass windows behind the altar
In the courtyard of Salisbury, which is also a cemetery. Sweet little place

Monmouthshire

On the walls of Caerwent

Tuesday was a very long day, but probably the closest I’ve had to a perfect day ever. We started early – left Cardiff at 7 am – and drove to an old Roman town called Caerwent. There were some walls left and we snapped a few pictures, but it was a little site out in the middle of the country next to some houses, so we didn’t stay long. Our next stop was Chepstow Castle, right on the River Wye. It’s huge – it took a good two hours to explore, and that was running from room to room – or should I say lawn to lawn. There are only ruins now, but you can definitely see fireplaces built into the walls of the second and third stories. Construction started on it in the 12th century and didn’t really stop until the 17th century. They just kept adding onto it. It was a beautiful castle with a spectacular view of the river and the hills. I even got some time to sit and read for a few minutes and just take in the fact that I was sitting in a castle…

Our next stop was Tintern Abbey. For those of you who know me well, this was the most important site. One of my favorite poems was inspired by these ruins, and to actually stand there was a spiritual experience. I even had the privilege of reading the poem aloud to our group, and the power of reading those words in that place was beyond description.

Following Tintern, we went to Monmouth Castle, or what was left of it. These ruins were not spectacular – there was pretty much one wall standing and then a big modern building next to it that housed a military museum. It was interesting to say the least. The museum obviously did not get very much funding and though it had some really cool artifacts, the entire establishment had the feeling of a sixth-grade history project: green felt shelving in cheap glass cases, computer-printed labels cut out by hand and held in place with thumbtacks. Kind of depressing, really.

The last place we visited Tuesday was Raglan Castle. By this point I was a bit castled out, but the ruins were so fantastic and so expansive that it was still quite impressive. This was the last castle built in Medieval England, so by then they had things mostly figured out. It had a great moat, with lily pads and goldfish and even an alligator or two. Ok, so there weren’t alligators, but the architecture was much finer and the floorplan more intricate than Chepstow, Monmouth, or Carreg Cennen. It had multiple courtyards, one originally with a fountain, and we got to climb to the top of the tower and see for miles.

Great Hall of Chepstow CastleView of the Wye River from Chepstow's wallsMe at Chepstow A view from the outside of ChepstowChecking out the view :)I'm at Tintern Abbey!perfect view of Tintern from the parking lotMore of TinternView of the once-stained-glass windows Great shot of the interiorDon't make me leave!Standing in Tintern Abbey, holding my Wordsworth One last lookAll that was left of Monmouth CastleMe on Monmouth BridgeIn front of RaglanOnly part of Raglan, fron the frontSome of the ruins from the inside of RaglanLooking down from an upper wallView from the top-most tower Side view of Raglan, complete with a lily-padded moat

Tuesday was a great day of dream-fulfilling :)