Out of the Shadowlands

"For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move, to feel the needs and hitches of our life more nearly, to come down off the featherbed of civilization and find the globe granite underfoot and strewn with cutting flints." - Robert Louis Stevenson

Today marks the end of what has been a couple weeks of... well, a string of things that have been not-so-fun. I returned to London with three essays and an exam waiting for me, and hadn't done much to start working on any of them. What had previously been a well-spaced out schedule as far as final assessments went got compacted into two weeks of stressful scrambling, thanks to the Eljijirjlrlilthsb volcano in Iceland (editor's note: Eljijirjlrlilthsb is probably not the correct spelling. There's a reason all those BBC newsreporters just refer to it as "the volcano in Iceland"). But - and this should be read with an emphatically deep sigh of relief - as of 12:08 pm earlier today, my work as a study abroad student at King's College in London has finally, miraculously come to a close.

For those of you that are interested in my studies, here's the recap. I got an extension on two of my essays, but kept my other essay (a written analysis of an adaptation) and exam (for my Travel Writing class) as they were, mostly because I really liked the idea of finishing on May 12 and having the rest of my time abroad to spend doing what I wanted to do, on my terms. With the new schedule my extensions afforded, this was the lineup:

May 4: Jane Austen in Context essay due. Wrote about the link between Austen's female characters and the estates in her novels. A trend I've been noticing in her works since I read Pride & Prejudice for high school AP Literature. Status = a good first draft, but not sure what mark they'll give me. Personal state of mind upon completion = tired

May 5: Adaptation Assessment due. For my adaptation, I chose Patricia Rozema's 1999 read of Jane Austen's Mansfield Park, which I love, despite (and partly because of) its lack of faithfulness to the original. Status = can't remember, which is probably not a good sign. I did it in a time frame of 24 hours though, which I find impressive. Personal state of mind upon completion = perpetual academic hangover

May 10: Theology Essay #2 due. Wrote about Nietzsche's opinion of Christianity. Which is to say, I wrote about Nietzsche's deep-seated hatred for Christianity. Status = crossing my fingers for a low 2:2 (translation for the Americans: crossing my fingers that I pass that assignment). I chose the topic because I wanted to understand more about Nietzsche's philosophy of life. Turns out, no one understands Nietzsche's philosophy of life except for a few select people in this world, one of whom is grading my essay. I'm getting sick just thinking about it. Personal state of mind upon completion = incredibly embarrassed that I'm a writing major in college, but also relieved to be done with research essays this term

May 12: Travel Writing 3 hour exam. Status = killed it! I don't know how hard they grade exams here, but I finished almost an hour early and felt good about the work I did. Personal state of mind upon completion = elated. I did a victory dance in the bathroom when no one was looking. No, really.

As a little pat on my back, I decided to celebrate the end of my super-stressful two week period by pretending to be British and ask the lady at the kiosk in front of Westminster Abbey in my most convincing accent if she had a "rubbish bin" for my water bottle. She did. "Cheers." Plus two points for me. Unfortunately I lost at least forty points within ten minutes of that by going to the guards at the Parliament building to ask where I could go for the tour of the Parliament. "Home" was the guard's witty response, "because Parliament is closed due to the elections." In my defense, I did know the elections had happened, and wondered if Parliament would be operating... I just thought tours would go on regardless. Oh well. Big fat "American" stamp on my forehead. Moving on.

To console myself of my failure at the Parliament building, I went to the Tate Britain, which is basically the one museum in London I had yet to go to. This museum is my favorite of all British art museums by far, which comes as no surprise, as it houses some of the most famous Pre-Raphealite paintings as well as some great collections of Turner and Constable paintings. I ran a few errands after this, and then returned to my London dorm room, where I am now... with absolutely nothing to do. Life is beautiful.

For my time left in London, there are still a few things I have on the agenda. Tomorrow, I'm going with a friend to Jane Austen's house in Chawton (yes, again) to see their exhibit of costumes from the newest adaptation of Emma - the costumes were one of the only things I liked about that adaptation, so I'm excited to see them. The next day my friend Makini is visiting us London kids all the way from Paris, which I'm getting psyched about. Then Nadine and I are going to Bruges, Belgium for a few days, and a day trip to Cambridge is in the works, too. Other things I have to do include seeing Robin Hood at the cinemas here... seriously, it looks amazing... and going to Chipotle like five times a day. Yes, Chipotle. London is the first location outside of the United States, and it just opened up Monday. Yes, I went on opening day. I waited in line for an hour and it was totally, completely worth it. Differences between Chipotle at home... they don't have the Iced Tea (which is my FAVORITE THING ABOUT CHIPOTLE, but that's fine), and they give you the measliest portions of everything. Seriously, maybe I'm just used to the American heaps of rice and toppings, but I felt like Oliver Twist with my Burrito Bowl, in desperate need of some more. They don't have lettuce as a topping, but their chips! Oh my goodness, their chips are better here than the Chipotle chips back home. They're thinner and less limey. Oh, and their menu is so funny. All the meats have some weird explanation next to them - the chicken is "higher welfare," the steak and barbacoa is "farm assured," and the carnitas are "outdoor reared." Wow, I spent a significant portion of this post talking about Chipotle. I need to work out more.

Planewrecked in Malta

Yes, you read that correctly. Due to the volcanic eruption in Iceland, my two-and-a-half week vacation to Italy and Greece has quickly turned into a four-week vacation in Italy, Greece, and Malta. My friend Eric and I were due to return from Malta to London Gatwick airport on the 17th via easyjet, but that flight was cancelled due to the ash cloud serving as a lovely invisible European canopy.
Despite these difficulties, easyjet is my new favorite airline. You may be surprised to hear that, but this is because when all of the other airlines were leaving their passengers stranded in different areas of continental Europe, easyjet offered to cover our accommodation and meals until Eric and I could book the next return flight. As of right now, Eric and I are staying at a five star hotel in Malta - we have our own rooms, robes and slippies, and buffet style meals every meal of the day. While I can't really speak for Eric, this situation has gone from one of absolutely no certainty to one where I feel so incredibly taken care of and loved. We still aren't sure WHY easyjet offered to do this when other airlines were refusing to accommodate passengers, but we're very glad that they did. To go all "Christian" on you guys, this is serving as a beautiful picture of God's grace - something we probably don't deserve, but gets lavished upon us anyway.
The only arena where I'm still facing uncertainty is my school life - my first final assignment was due on the 27th of April, but the next flight Eric and I could get to the UK is on the 28th. I don't have any study materials with me since I was planning on completing my research and writing my essays upon my return to London. Please pray that my professors are lenient about extensions for essays so that I don't have to stress over finding sources for essays on an isolated island in the Mediterranean Sea! Speaking of the island, little known fact: the apostle Paul was shipwrecked here in A.D. 60 - for three months. Let's hope Eric and I don't stay for that long!

May Gold hold you in the palm of his hands... until we meet again.

Above is the last sentence of an Irish blessing my mom sent me via text message before leaving London on our six day adventure through Dublin and Belfast. Thanks, Mom. I think it worked. :)


As a sidenote, pictures will be in another post as blogger gets on my nerves when it comes to placing photos within text. Okay.


You could easily call this our most anticipated adventure yet, as Eric, Adriane, Nadine, and I had made these plans to go to Ireland in November of last semester. Good thing, too, because we got spaces in hostels and cheap airfare that we probably wouldn't have had we waited till studying abroad, since St. Patrick's Day is obviously a huge tourist event for Ireland and Dublin in particular. Even though we had known about this trip for the longest amount of time, the actual day of traveling to Dublin (Tuesday the 16th) was fairly stressful because it was the closest I'd ever cut it as far as flights were concerned - Nadine and I both had separate troubles on the London Underground getting to Gatwick airport, and Nadine literally arrived ten minutes before we were told the "gates would close on us" - they didn't even end up boarding people until 20 minutes after that time, but boy was I nervous waiting for her to get through security.


We successfully arrived at the Dublin Airport and waited for Eric and Adriane's flight from Edinburgh, and once the gang was assembled the four of us traveled to our youth hostel together. It was nighttime, but that proved to not be an issue. After arriving we decided to go to a nearby pub, where we ordered our first drinks while in Dublin - which was to be the last for most of us, as prices in Dublin are super expensive! And although we later found people to be very friendly in Ireland, Eric accidentally offended the bartender of the pub that first night by asking him what kind of cider he would recommend. The bartender's response? "I don't drink cider." Classic.


The hostel we stayed in is attached to an old church where they served free breakfast every morning, which was a good way to start off the day for three mornings straight. Our first full day was St. Patrick's Day itself, so we got an early start to the day so we could get good seats for the festival parade on O'Connell Street. The parade lasted for roughly a billion years and went from cool to interesting to really wack during that time frame, but I guess all of that goes to show the Irish know how to throw a party. After the parade we found Nadine's friend who is studying abroad in Limerick, and hung out for a while before going our separate ways in search of food. Eric, Adriane, Nadine, and I found a wonderful food place called Beshoff's (also on O'Connell Street), where we went again the following day because the quality of the food was great and the price was not jaw-dropping. We followed this amazing discovery by going to the Guinness Factory, where we took a tour of the storehouse and learned how to make our own perfect pint of Guinness. The Guinness Factory has seven stories, the top of which is called the Gravity Bar and affords a great view of the city of Dublin, with quotes from some great books by Irish writers involving the city: The Dubliners,Ulysses, The Portrait of the Artist as Young Man, among others (they're really proud of James Joyce in Dublin). Once we exhausted all that the Guinness Factory had to offer, we took a horse-drawn carriage ride back to the famous Temple Bar District and (after visiting our hostel to get ready) went to an Irish pub to end St. Patrick's Day on a high note. Gogarty's was the name of the pub, and while it was crowded just like everywhere else, it had some native Irishmen playing covers of great rock songs that got us excited to move to the music! Adriane was the only one of us to purchase a drink, and she almost got a heart attack when she found out how much it had cost her - consequently I don't think she drank for the rest of the time we were in Ireland haha.


The next day we got up to catch the free walking tour through the city of Dublin, but Nadine wasn't feeling well so she stayed in the hostel. The tour took us three hours and we came back with lunch for Nadine (from Beshoff's of course), but she wasn't in the hostel. We looked for her on our hall, in the bathrooms, in the lobby, she wasn't anywhere. So we left her her food and a map telling her where to catch up with us once she got back, thinking she had walked to the pharmacy nearby. Apparently she was in the Church area charging her phone (our room didn't have any outlets - annoying), and we had literally missed her by five to ten minutes, because she came back to the room almost as soon as we had left. It was a bummer, but it ended up being a good thing because she got hit with another wave of sickness after we would have met up with her. Before we went back to retrieve Nadine for a quiet night walking around in Dublin, Eric, Adriane, and I went to the National Library of Ireland where they had an exhibit on William Butler Yeats as well as the geneology center. I'm Irish on my mother's side, so I would have been tempted to go in and search for Carroll, my ancestor's last name, but it closed before we could get to it. I consoled myself by walking around St. Stephen's Green with Eric and Adriane, where the shades of green and daffodils were magnificent. Really truly, Dublin is a beautiful city. We went to another park where an Oscar Wilde monument is and took pictures with it where I almost got my camera robbed by two nice old ladies, one of which had absent mindedly put it in her left pocket and started walking off. She was so embarrassed when we caught up to her! We walked by Oscar Wilde's house on our way to meet up with Nadine and walk around the city at night. Dublin is by far one of my favorite cities that I've traveled to so far - reminded me of London in the sense that it has the city life while also being the site for great literary history. And Adriane would probably remind me that it was just as expensive as London, too.


The next day puts us to Friday, where the four of us took a bus to Belfast to continue the rest of our journey. Although Nadine and I were reluctant to leave the cute cash teller at the bus station behind, I think it's safe to say that this was the most interesting bus ride any of us had ever taken, not only because of the beautiful Irish countryside we travelled through, but also because of our company. Eric's neighbor was a big burly Irishman who kept on pestering him with videos on his phone when it was extremely obvious that all Eric wanted to do was read his Harry Potter book. Throughout the roughly three hour bus ride I would look over and see Eric politely responding to his neighbor and be grateful that I didn't have to put up with any invasive Irishmen... WELL God must have heard that and thought he would have some fun, because Adriane, Nadine, and I got the full experience towards the end of the bus ride. Except instead of a middle-aged intimidating Irishman, our source of annoyance sprung from the five year old Irishboy sitting in front of us. I'm not sure exactly when the change took place, but the last hour or so of the bus ride caused this boy to go from polite and obedient child to verbally aggressive admirer of American women. He called us "hot" and "sexy" while telling us that he wanted to kiss us (but I like to think he only directed the offer of marriage towards me). At one point his mother got so upset with him she spanked him and yelled, "Knock it off! You're five!" and even that was not enough to calm him down. We saw him once again after we had left the bus and were heading off to our hostel, and he made sure to stand by the door and point to each of us girls individually, saying with his little Irish lisp, "Thexy! Thexy! Thexy!" I don't know WHERE this child picked up these words since he's only five, but it made for a very welcoming entrance into Belfast.

Compared to Dublin, Belfast was not as much of a favorite for me personally. Although I didn't get the impression that there was as much to DO as other places I've visited so far, Belfast as a city has a lot of weight culturally, since it in many ways is still suffering from Protestant-Catholic conflict dating from centuries past. We took a "black taxi" tour of the murals throughout the city, which gave a pretty clear picture of the difficult relationship betwen the two factions. We also walked around a bit and explored all the city had to offer - a beautiful city hall, the fame of being the construction site for the Titanic (good one, Belfast), and some great shopping, too. Halway through our stint in Belfast I learned it is also known for being the birthplace of C.S. Lewis, which made me like the city more. Superficial? Possibly. Lame? Absolutely.

Belfast had some great surprises in store for us, however. The food was great and much cheaper than in Dublin. We found a great cupcake shop in the main hub of the city and tried Bailey's with coffee alongside variously decorated cupcakes, which was definitely a highlight. The main thing we did in Belfast was take pictures, and since there was not that much to take pictures of, we turned to ourselves for entertainment. We did some "photoshoots" at dinner and such and made complete fools of ourselves in the process. You can look to facebook for those. I'm sorry to keep this short but Italy and Greece are on the horizon and I really have to get ready for those. If there's anything I forgot or if you need to see pictures here as well as facebook I will try to do that once I return from the grand tour! Love you all, hope you had great spring breaks and Easters!

Happy Anniversary, London

It's official. Today marked the close of my second full month abroad. So much has happened in the past two months, and by the looks of things, the pace isn't showing any signs of slacking. With this in mind, I've decided to "hit the brakes" for a while - all of last week, this week, and next week, my plans involve spending quality time in England. The great thing about that decision is that the weather in the UK, with the exception of a couple rainy days, has started to clear up. Also, one of those rainy days was a day I underwent self-imposed dorm arrest in order to finish my first "essay" of the "term." Those words are in quotes because I'm trying to sound more British... "paper" and "semester" are words no one uses here and are therefore sure-fire ways of waving the big fat American flag in casual conversation. Because of differences in their educational systems, they don't call these years at school as "college," strictly referring to their coursework as "university" or "uni" for short. They also don't have majors and minors in British institutions, so the equivalent of asking someone, "What's your major?" is "What do you study?" or even "What are you reading?"

My digs. Entrance to King's College Hall.

At the request of some of my readers (yes, that's you, Grammie), I'm going to detail what my classes are like at King's. The short version is, they're great. I really have enjoyed them so far, and can't wait to see what the rest of the term holds (British brownie points for saying "term" - but Brits probably don't say "brownie," so back to square one there). Basically each of my four classes is similar in size to smaller lectures back home, with around 20-30 students in attendance. The only class that's an exception to this is my Jane Austen class, where the lecture is closer to 70 students but the seminars, smaller discussion groups that meet on other scheduled days, are more in line with the previous number.

The local pub in Denmark Hill - no dropped calls on skype when I use their free wifi! UPGRADE!

The similarities between courses basically end there. Although I have each class only once a week, other aspects of the course are structured completely differently. My adaptation writing class splits the term in between two professors, and students are assessed by two assignments, one for each professor. We just made the transition from Teacher #1 to Teacher #2 a couple weeks ago, but our assignment for Teacher #1 is due at the end of this month, so it's a little scattered. That assignment is adapting a short story of our choice into 12 separate scenes with explanations detailing our creative process, and for right now I think I'm adapting Oscar Wilde's fairy tale of sorts "The Happy Prince." The second half of the adaptation class is focused on American film noir, and we kicked things off by taking a look at "The Maltese Falcon" in class. I'm not sure what the second assignment is, but I think we are analyzing a couple scenes of a film adaptation of either poetry or prose. Knowing me it will probably end up being from Jane Austen (whose House in Chawton, England I made a pilgrimage to last week).

Jane Austen's House in Chawton.

Which forms a perfect segway into another class, my Jane Austen in Context module. Not surprisingly, I love this course, which is great because I have it at least twice a week. Monday nights are a screening of some kind of adaptation that usually deals with our lecture on Tuesdays, and Wednesday is my "seminar" day (a seminar is the equivalent of a USC discussion section). Also not surprisingly, I've seen most of the adaptations screened for the class - the only exception to that so far has been the 1940 Pride and Prejudice with Laurence Olivier as Mr. Darcy - I'm assuming we watched that one in place of the 1995 version because we're only allowed two hours for the screenings... that was during the second week of the course, and most of them since then display a range of interpretations - Clueless, Lost in Austen, Rozema's Mansfield Park, so on and so forth. Also ALSO not surprisingly, I love my teachers for the course... not only because they're very knowledgeable and admire Jane Austen's writing as much (if not more than) I do, but because of... their names. The main instructor's name is Elizabeth, and the other teacher who is teaching a couple weeks out of the course is Jane. And Jane's last name is... Darcy. Not kidding. Had to keep my jaw from hitting the floor on that one. I know, I know, I need to get a life.

Even though I've enjoyed learning more about the books themselves, the part of the course that has actually been the most interesting has been the assigned reading. There's a lot of it, for starters. We are expected to read all six of Austen's major novels, but in addition to those are some books that are from other female authors during Jane Austen's time. I've really enjoyed reading the works of these authors because it's afforded me a glimpse into the types of books Jane Austen would have read as well as other female writers who dealt with the issue of female identity in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries - writers such as Fanny Burney, Ann Radcliffe, Mary Hays, and Mary Wollstonecraft. The reading has been very demanding for this class alone, and I have a lot to catch up on, but I'm very grateful I've read most of Jane Austen's work before this class so that it lightens the load considerably (the only book I have yet to finish is Sense & Sensibility). I hope to be able to use these readings in my assessed essay at the end of the term, which is the sole basis for my grade for the course. Our only restriction is that the essay has to be 4,000 words and due at the end of April. While our teacher has given us a list of questions we can answer, she's also given us the freedom to create our own prompt and run with it, which I think I will end up doing. The wheels are still turning in my head, but I'm feeling the pressure to make some ground on the essay because, while the deadline is far away, at least three weeks of the time in between now and then I will be traveling, so I need to make sure I give this essay the attention it deserves.

Chawton Estate Church where Jane Austen's mother and sister are buried.

My other two classes are Travel Writing and Into to Christianity, the latter of which being the class I wrote my first British essay for. We had roughly four essay topics to choose from, and I ended up writing about the importance of the doctrine of Jesus for salvation in the Councils of Constantinople and Chalcedon. I have no idea what I'll get on the assignment (sounds like they grade a lot harder here than back home), but I chose it specifically because it was an area of Christianity's history I wasn't familiar with and consequently learned a lot more about. This essay is 40% of my final mark, the rest of my grade being determined by the second paper, which is due in May at some point. This class' structure is probably the most different from any class I've ever had - we meet only once a week, but each lecture is delivered by a different professor in the Theology department - although we have had a couple repeats so far.

Travel Writing is the class I'm least motivated for, which is ironic because it's the only course I'm taking here that is technically Comparative Literature at King's (the other two English courses are ones where I cleared them with USC for Comparative Literature credit, even though they don't fall under the same category). This past week we had presentations on a piece of travel literature of our choice, and I researched Mary Wortley Montagu's Life on the Golden Horn, which is an account of this wealthy British woman's travels through the Turkish Empire with her husband and infant child in the early eighteenth century. The presentation went fine but I don't really think it matters, as this is another class where my entire mark hinges on the assessment during exam period. This class is technically my only "assessment by exam" of the four, so I'm a little annoyed with it at the moment because it's the only due date I don't know of yet and therefore can't plan the rest of my time abroad!

Okay, enough of the boring stuff - let's have some fun!

At the Sherlock Holmes Museum. Dr. Watson was such a grouch! And he looked nothing like Jude Law.

Grrrr Blogger just deleted this last portion of my post. I'm tired. Will resume in next post, hopefully before I head to Ireland for St. Patrick's Day!

The Weekend Getaway

King's "Reading Week" ended on a good note, as I travelled about three hours to Newcastle in Northern England to spend the weekend on a trip with other USC students studying abroad in the United Kingdom. The trip started when the train rolled into the Newcastle-upon-Tyne station, and I met up with Adriane, Eric, and fellow USC student Grant as we caught the city early and explored until meeting up with the rest of the group for dinner at a Chinese buffet. While exploring, we saw the shopping district, the not-so-new castle keep and Black Gate, various churches such as St. Nicholas Cathedral and St. Andrew's, and the beautiful Millenium Bridge. Pictured below is another famous Newcastle site, the Grey Monument. Dedicated to Earl Grey, the earl who the tea flavor is named after!

Another beautiful clear sky, this time over the historic streets of Newcastle.

On the Millenium Bridge looking out over the Tyne River.

Our first night in the city was a rather full one, as the entire USC crowd gathered into a pub nearby and experienced Newcastle culture in the best way possible - ale! Newcastle Brown Ale, to be exact. Although the actual Newcastle brewery has apparently moved to Scotland in recent years, we tried the drink named after the city where it was created, and to my own surprise I found an alcoholic beverage that I actually liked enough to order again! Finally!

Adriane and I continued the night in style by going out to a club called he O2 Academy. Friday nights this is the place to be, as the club was jumpin' jumpin' - literally, there was a bounce house in the main club room! And on the top floor it got even better - a program called "Where Angels Play" where small indie rock bands come and put on concerts in a small but comfortable venue. Adriane and I had such a great time here, listening to the live music or dancing to "Riverside" by Dutch DJ Sidney Samson - which is such a big deal in the UK, by the way. Some of my friends from London have these hilarious arm motions when they dance to this song in the clubs, and although the Americans have yet to learn it, that doesn't stop us from trying to follow along!

So this is love... Adriane and I with our Newcastle Brown Ale!

After we took a walking tour of the city the next morning, Adriane and I met with more things to learn by way of the Newcastle United football team chants! The whole USC crowd got to go to a Newcastle game courtesy of USC, and it was such a riveting experience - being a few of the crowd yelling at the team and heartily singing their team chants, full of pride for their sport and country. The sea of black, white, and blue colored shirts combined with the slurred accents of Newcastle supporters wearing them made the game an event to remember. Of course we had no idea what the chants were - we can barely understand the Newcastle accent when one person was speaking slowly to us on the street - but that didn't seem to matter a whole lot. When we researched it later we found out it basically boiled down to lots of swearing, no shocker there.

Nadine and I at the N.U.F.C. stadium!

We got out of the game at around 5 and headed directly to a nice dinner at the Strada, an Italian restaurant perfectly situated outside the football stadium. I had a steak (thanks, USC!), and I can't even tell you how happy I was to not have bread in a meal for once. Bread and I are definitely in a love-hate relationship right now, and I think we need some time away from each other in order to sort out our differences.

"You are uniformally charming!" - Mr. Collins proposing to Lizzie,

at the Theatre Royal production of Pride and Prejudice

And then it happened. The last part of the schedule for our USC-at-Newcastle Saturday was to attend a play adaptation of Jane Austen's prized novel, Pride and Prejudice, while it was in its last night playing at Newcastle. Those of you that know me, know that this would be the epitome of the trip, regardless of the quality of the show. As Eric so eloquently stated on our way to dinner, "Jenna, I think with this show, you will either hate it, or love it... or maybe you will hate some parts and love others." Nadine and I gave him a hard time about that one for the rest of the night, but he ended up being right. The play was so tiring to watch because it literally felt like a marathon - tons of intricate storylines and character relationships compacted into a two hour story with scene changes and awkward humor thrown in - but the actress who played Elizabeth Bennet was good, and the way they handled the letters in the plot worked well. My main disappointment was that they only had Mary in the first scene, and never again - it was like she disappeared from the storyline, and therefore never got to display her talents at the Netherfield ball! Or pine after Mr. Collins! And Mr. Darcy was a little too giddy for my tastes... okay I'm going to stop short since half of you are probably asleep already.

We turned in to the hostel after the play and played Uno while eating cake from a nearby cafe and making toast at the hostel (hence my current aversion to bread). We woke up the next day and had a traditional English breakfast, after which the USC kids started to splinter off, as some had to head back to their respective universities at different times. Adriane and I stayed until after dinner, giving us ample amounts of time to shop at the Sunday markets and go to the Baltic contemporary art house - which was probably the highlight of the trip, as they had some funky displays there that we got to take pictures in front of. We got to the train station at around 6:30pm, when I found out that I had missed the last direct train to London by about fifteen minutes - so it was a mad dash to the train leaving in four minutes that included two changes, with one of the stops being Cambridge. It was too dark to see any of the area, but it was a nice little reminder of another place I need to visit before my time studying abroad in England is over. I got into my dorm at around one in the morning, so the whole return trip ended up being at least two and half hours longer than the trip to Newcastle - lesson learned, do not rely on the pamphlets for the available train times, always check with the station directly!

This week marks my return to the wonderful world of King's College and class - I have my first paper due on Friday in my Intro to Christianity class, and I think I'm going to write about the early Christian church and the different councils that made decisions of doctrinal import to the history of Christianity. I'm excited, but also obviously need to get my act together and write the thing - taking pass/fail classes is not conducive to being motivated for schoolwork. The next couple weeks will be me laying low in England, and I'm looking forward to the rest and relaxation. Hope you all are doing well and being able to enjoy some form of rest and relaxation yourselves!

Chasing the Sun Through Madrid and Barcelona

I can't tell you how good it is to be back in good ol' Mother England again. As amazing as it has been traveling from London to all these new and exciting places, weekend after weekend, I have to admit that I'm getting a little worn out already. All of these experiences so far have been incredibly full and rewarding, even at their most stressful moments. I think my brain is about to explode from the reality of all of these different situations - anything from "Oh, I just took a two hour flight and somehow ended up in Madrid" to "I just saw Bosch's The Garden of Earhly Delights in person at the Prado, and it's not a 2x4 picture in an Art History text book to me anymore." They're a series of feelings that I can't describe very well except to say they're surreal. And I hate that I have to describe them that way, because what does that really mean, anyway? But there you have it.

Before the flamenco show at Casa Patas in Madrid.

My friend Melissa and I took an 8:30 am flight out of London to Madrid. Yes, you read that right. 8:30 in the morning. For those of you that know me, you know what an accomplishment that is. I decided that there was no way I would be going to sleep the night before, which turned out to be completely fine because I visited my friend Nadine as she celebrated a friend's birthday at the London club Fabric. By far the best all-nighter I've ever spent!

Melissa also decided to stay up the night before, so our first order of business upon arriving to Madrid was to get to our hostel and blend in with our host country by taking a proper "siesta." This plan got delayed, however, because about ten minutes into using the Madrid metro system to get to our hostel, I got pickpocketed! Yes, a traditional tourist experience for Jenna, woohoo... my entire wallet was stolen. I frantically called my dad to cancel my credit cards, and spent the next hour or so trying to communicate to the metro security guards and police officers in Spanish - which was a lot harder than I anticipated once I realized I hadn't brushed up on my Spanish lessons in over three years. It would have probably been a hilarious scenario had it not been me... and although it was incredibly inconvenient at the time, I'm thankful for a few things. One, most of my cash for the trip was in my backpack, so I had enough to use for the rest of the trip. Two, while the ruffian got my credit cards and driver's license, he left everything else in my purse untouched - including my passport (international crisis averted!), iPod, and student ID slash London travelcard. I'm also thankful that it happened at the onset of the trip because when I returned from my trip yesterday I had my new cards waiting for me in the mail, and if it had happened any other day I might not have come home to my replacement cards.

At the time though, I didn't really see a lot of the silver lining. I was pretty frustrated, both with the situation and myself for letting it happen. I spent most of the rest of the day dealing with the fallout of the incident (lots of phone calls, lots of stress), and consequently couldn't really enjoy the beautiful sunshine that Madrid welcomed us with. Melissa and I went to our hostel and I seriously just wanted to hide from the world and not do anything for the rest of the day... but luckily we didn't keep to that plan. Instead, Melissa and I went to a local bar for beer and tapas (traditional Spanish appetizers which turned out to be bread, potatoes, and some form of meat that translates to ham in English) once the evening started and followed it up with an authentic flamenco show at a renowned restaurant/stage called Casa Patas. The dancing and the musical accompaniment were both excellent, and it made me forget about the troubles of the past few hours, which was no easy task!

Plaza Mayor, complete with street flamenco performace.

The next day we woke up and decided that we would take advantage of our only full day in Madrid by taking a bus tour of the city. We started out from the Plaza Mayor and took both lines the bus had to offer, which drove past such sights as the Royal Palace and the Neptune Fountain leading up to the Prado Museum, pictured below. Melissa and I followed up on the bus tour by going to the Prado museum, where we stayed until closing. By far one of the most impressive museums I have ever been to as far as expansive collections go - they had some of the best works from some of the best artists - Goya, Velasquez, El Greco, Durer, Titian, Rembrandt, you name it they had it. Later that night we went with other students in Madrid hostels to some of the bars and clubs in the area for a little taste of Spanish nightlife... we got a deal with our hostel where we were able to try sangria and mojitos during the excursion, which added to the experience. The weird thing about going out at night in Spain is that, maybe in part due to the siestas everyone seems to take, people don't really start their nights until 2:30 am! Also, all of the bars we went to had people smoking all over the place, which in turn made all of our clothes and hair smell like smoke for the next day. So lesson is, Spanish partying is not for Jenna. But I'm glad I got to experience it when I did.

El Fuente de Neptuno - to the right of the picture is the world famous Prado Museum.

Our last day in Madrid was spent at the Reina Sofia modern museum, where we saw Picasso's Guernica among other pieces of relatively contemporary art. Not really my thing, but Spain really taught me to love Picasso since I also visited the Picasso Museum while in Barcelona. Not to jump ahead or anything, but while reading one of the wall panels in the room for Picasso's Blue Period, I found this quote:

"He discovered a type of literature in which sincerity is inseparable from pain; in which the art springs from sadness and suffering."

I really enjoyed the honesty in Picasso's work. He was always searching for new ways of expression, but he was always unapologetically himself.

And now for my other favorite thing about Spain... KIT KATS! I'm serious. I don't know what is different about Spanish chocolate, but it is phenomenal. I had so many Kit Kats on this trip, I don't even know what to do with myself. And while even the McDonald's are expensive in Spain, they had this great deal for a euro called the "Con Kit Kat" - basically a regular McDonald's vanilla ice cream cone with a Kit Kat stuck in the middle. Words fail. I would have taken a picture of it to document the evidence for you guys (yes I would waste a picture on this, it was that good), but around this time my camera also died. So the last two pictures you'll see are still from the first couple days of Madrid. We took some other pictures throughout the trip with Melissa's camera, so once I get my hands on those I will try to add them here or something.

We ended the evening by walking off my Con Kit Kat in the Parque de Buen Retiro, a gorgeous park with a few beutiful monuments and palaces sprinkled throughout. We headed back to our hostel to grab our things and take the overnight sleeper train to Barcelona, but not before stopping to admire the beginning of Madrid's Carnival celebration in the city street Gran Via.

Melissa and I on the sightseeing bus in Madrid. Look at that sol! No wait, don't look! Ahh!

We arrived in Barcelona at around 8 in the morning to find that Melissa's bag had been rummaged through in the middle of the night. Needless to say, she was not happy about this and we had to go through the whole ordeal again - finding security guards to direct us to the police station to file declarations of theft, dealing with the language barrier on top of the little to poor quality of sleep... and this time, there was no sun to greet us. Once we were done at the police station, we found Melissa's friend Julia from USC, and we ended up having a great rest of the day. We took a day trip to the local beach town of Sitges, which was AMAZING. Without speaking for the others, it was just what I needed. It was so relaxing and it served its purpose to make me forget the incident in Madrid, which had still been hanging over me this whole time - all it took was walking around the ocean aimlessly. The ocean! That's one thing I wasn't expecting to miss about home. Hearing the waves crashing into the rocky beachside, seeing the blue water of the Mediterranean and the sun as it came out for the daytime expedition... the whole combination of circumstances made me so happy. Although I don't find the weather in London depressing and usually quite like it, there's something about sun streaming through a clear sky that just feels right.

We returned from the day trip in Sitges and spent a quiet night in Barcelona. One of the coolest parts of the trip was this night, actually. A group of kids from America and Europe were sitting in a circle in this room, trying to communicate and basically speaking a ridiculous mix of English, Spanish, and French, getting to know each other amidst multiple language barriers, and not caring if we messed up along the way. By this time I'd regained what little bit of Spanish I knew from high school classes, and it was coming in handy!

Authentic Paella Valenciana - this one's for you, Jessica!

The next day puts us at Monday, the 15th. Melissa and I went with Jacob, a friend from Germany, to the Segrada Familia, one of the multiple infamous works of Antoni Gaudi, who left his mark on the city of Barcelona and whose reputation is basically inseparable from the city. We then walked around in search of a few more sights of Barcelona - Casa Batllo, another piece of architecture by Gaudi, the shops down the Pg. de Gracia leading up to the Las Ramblas tourist district down by the water, where we took a cab up to the top of the Montjuic mountain and had a great view of not only the Castell de Montjuic, but of the entire city as well. We then took another cab back down the mountainside and spent a night in, cooking dinner (failing at making our own version of paella) and relaxing in what has to be one of the most beautiful cities in the world. We'd only cracked the tip of the iceberg by our travels that day.

And only got a little further the next day, our last day in Barcelona. Melissa and I got up and went to La Boqueria, a famous food market in the Las Ramblas area that was insane - I got a packet of freshly sliced strawberries and made a tour of the different booths - it had everything, from chocolate stores to carnicerias to bakeries. From there we walked to the Picasso Museum, which as mentioned before was incredible. Oddly enough was probably one of the best investments I made during my Spanish adventures. After that Melissa and I parted ways, her for the bus tour, and I for my walking tour. Obviously I saw less of the city going the way that I did, but I went to some of the main sights of Barcelona following only a map and my sense of direction - usually a recipe for disaster but that day it worked quite well - and saw some other hallmark symbols of the city - the Catedral (so iconic it doesn't even need a name), La Pedrera - another Gaudi building (seriously this guy is everywhere), the Arc de Triompf and the Palau de la Musica Catalana. Then I met up with a bigger group at the Park Guell (also designed by Gaudi) and turned in for a night of sleeping and skype before my plane flight in the morning back to London. I had just enough money to purchase a bus fare and a sandwhich from the Gatwick airport, and met up with my friend Sam in central London, where we took the bus home to a King's College Hall dinner and I took a well deserved, especially long shower and snuggled up in my blankets as the London sky prepared for another rainy day.

All in all, my experience in Spain was a great one. I really loved Barcelona for the simple reason that there is so much culture and life there. I would put it right behind Edinburgh and London as one of my favorite places that I've experienced since coming here. It more than made up for the mishaps of Madrid, which in and of itself had some wonderful places such as the Prado to remember with fondness. More than anything, this trip, and all of the trips I've made so far really, have caused me to appreciate London more. It's become clearer and clearer to me that as the central location for my study abroad experience, London was the best choice. It's safe, full of life, and full of past lives that enrich the city it is today. And, let's be honest, it speaks English.

No Toast, No Fries, No Manicures... Just Good Times in Paris

This past weekend marks my first expedition into uncharted territory - mainland Europe! Paris to be exact. I'd only been on either side of this area until last Thursday - United Kingdom and Russia, and was so excited I got to experience the city with Eric, Adriane, and Emily, friends studying abroad at the University of Edinburgh (where I visited last weekend). I met up with all three at St. Pancras International Terminal on Thursday night, where we caught the Eurostar train from London to Paris. I was a little nervouse because I was in a different coach than my traveling buddies, but got off at the right stop and settled with them into our adorable bed and breakfast in Vitry sur Seine. The room came complete with a few films that deal with Paris in some way: Moulin Rouge, Ratatouille, the Da Vinci Code, among others. We didn't really watch any of them while we were there, but the idea was cute!

Following Eric, Adriane, and Emily up the many steps to Sacre Coeur

The next day was nothing short of a whirlwind. The four of us got up fairly early and started the day off well with a French breakfast - crossaints, baguettes, tea, and toast with marmalade jam. We then bought a Metro Pass and from there the day really started going. First we visited Pere Lachaise, the cemetary where famous names like Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrison, and Camille Pisarro are laid to rest. After that we travelled to the Montmatre area, which is known as an art disctrict as well as the location of the actual Moulin Rouge. Also in this area is the Sacre Coeur cathedral, sitting on top of a hill that provides a beautiful view of the city of Paris. Once again, we were incredibly fortunate to have a clear day and relatively warm weather, which was perfect because that day was our day to see the any of the views that Paris could afford to spare. We also ate amazing "French food" - banana nutella crepes and hot dog chaude (which translates literally into hot hot dog). Once we had our fill of that area, we took the Metro to the Champs-Elysees, where we snapped photos of the Arc du Triomphe.

The Metro system in Paris was really easy to adjust to, since I use the London Underground practically every day when I'm going to school. It's an identical system, just in a language I don't understand. It was helpful to have Eric there, as he took French in high school and has traveled to Paris before. He was such a good tour guide slash travel agent and us three girls were very lucky to have him with us. After the Arc du Triomphe, Eric and I snuck into the Musee d'Orsay to see some great Impressionist works, and then after that the four of us closed the night out with a trip to the Louvre, which is free for students on Friday nights. We got really lucky with the timing of our trip because the first weekend of every month in Paris gives students and visitors tons of discounts on things to do in the area, so we were able to save money and still see some of the basic trademarks of the Parisian lifestyle. I can only put so many pictures on my blog, so for those of you that want to see some of these sites, you'll have to wait till I have the patience to upload them onto Facebook.

I fell in love with a Banana-Nutella Crepe. It was a short-lived romance.

Suffice it to say, by the end of our Friday night in Paris, we were pooped. Our legs were about to fall off and our energy had been spent in what could almost be called a "Paris-in-a-day-Tour." You'd think this would cause us to take a lazy day on Saturday...

The gang in front of Sleeping Beauty's castle in Disneyland Paris!

And you would be wrong. Disneyland Paris it was! We went to the two main parks of Disneyland Paris for as much as we could pack in. Disneyland Paris is similar to Disneyland in California in a lot of ways, so it was familiar enough that we knew how to structure our time... but there were some pretty awesome differences. Their Fantasyland, for example, is bomb. They have a walk through Alice and Wonderland "Curious Labryinth" and the Sleeping Beauty castle allows you to go up one level and see the story of Sleeping Beauty played out in stained glass windows. Also, they have a lot more legitimate roller coasters in the actual Disneyland park. While they had Space Mountain, Thunder Mountain, and an Indiana Jones ride, all of the rides were way more intense, and most of them went upside down. Definitely not targeted towards the younger kids! I was pleased to find that I prefer the Indiana Jones ride back home much much more than the one in Disneyland Paris. My favorite ride of the day would have to have been... Crush's Coaster from the Walt Disney Studio side park (an equivalent to California Adventure back home). It was surprisingly wild and fun where you didn't expect it to be, and I really liked that!

The weather did finally catch up to us on Saturday, as it drizzled off and on while we were at Disneyland. Somehow the other three had enough energy after all that we'd done the previous two days to go clubbing at a Paris nightclub. I don't know how they did it, but I decided to spend my time relaxing in the bed and breakfast, falling asleep somewhere around 2am. A great way to end what had been previously a mad dash across the city of Paris.

A shot of the back entrance to Versailles.

Sunday the gang slept in a little bit and then made a quick visit to Versailles before Emily had to leave to get back to Edinburgh in time for Monday class. The palace was beautiful, but we definitely came at the wrong time of year - while the interiors were beautiful as ever, the gardens were pretty barren and the fountains weren't working. The bright side is, we got in for free yet again, and the weather didn't interfere with our pictures too badly!

Sunday night was also spectacular because I finally got to meet up with Makini, a friend in Screenwriting with me back home at USC. She's studying abroad in Paris this semester, and the past few days had been disappointing because we were having trouble getting a hold of each other to hang out. Finally I figured out how to call her on my phone, and Eric, Adriane, and I met up with Makini for dinner in the Latin Quarter near Notre Dame. We took pictures by the Eiffel Tower that night, and then returned to the Latin Quarter the next day to actually go into Notre Dame.

Which puts us to Monday morning, the last day in the wonderful city of Paris. After Notre Dame we went over to the Opera House, the location that inspired Gaston Leroux to write the Phantom of the Opera. That was the end of our Parisian adventures - I took my baguette to go with me on the return journey to London, and said au revoir to Paris!

Makini, Adriane, and I in front of the Opera House.

And now, hola to Madrid and Barcelona!